The Virus Within: Third Wave (Book 2)

Chapter 45

I pulled the socket wrench out, but before I had a chance to think about where to put it, another bump elicited a tiny screech somewhere in front of me. The one in my hand had been innocent after all. I put it down beside me and fished around between the mattress and the side of the truck box for the next possible cause. A crowbar came out next, and I waited to see if that solved the problem.

Screet.

I grumbled and set the crowbar beside the socket wrench before reaching for the next one. Next time, I'm wrapping these wretched things in rags...

After I pulled out the sixth tool, Nicky sat up to watch the proceedings in faint disbelief. As if checking something, she pulled the side of the mattress away from the truck, revealing the three heavy metal objects I'd hidden there.

"What kind of packrat are you?"

"One that likes to be prepared," I muttered, now digging beneath the mattress since I noticed the wrecking bar was absent from where I recalled placing it.

Nicky held up an oversized hammer in one hand and a small sledgehammer in the other. "Prepared for what? A competition revolving around one-way boomerangs?"

"And the person who throws them the fastest wins," I retorted.

My hand finally found the handle of the wayward mutant tool, and I pulled it out into the light of day. We hit another small pothole, and this time, there was no squeak.

"What is that supposed to be used for?"

"I have no idea, but I bet it'll do some damage if I throw it hard enough."

"Are you sure about that?" Nicky asked sarcastically. "You've got blunt force trauma on one end and a stabby thing on the other."

"It'll suffice," I replied shortly. "I'll just hide these under the sleeping bags for now, but I'll have to find something to wrap them in later."

"Thanks," Daniel murmured, likely too quietly for our companions to hear.

I wedged a few tools back into their hidey holes, but spread the rest on the mattress, making sure they didn't touch or rattle before piling the sleeping bags on top of them.

"That wasn't what I wanted to see," Daniel said, slowing the truck down.

"What?" I asked, already dreading the answer even as I turned around to see it for myself.

"The road is washed out."

Sure enough, farther ahead, a large portion of the road was absent. The original riverbed was dry, and the water that should have been flowing there was busily undermining the asphalt.

Even as we looked on, a car-sized section of dirt and pavement slid into the fast-moving water. The truck rolled to a stop with plenty of space between us and where the road suddenly dropped ten feet into the water.

"That's got to be at least two hundred feet wide," I said. "You'd need a ton of trees to even attempt a bridge."

"The water also looks fairly deep, so even if we tried to pile them, they'd likely float away." Daniel opened his door to take a better look at the unwelcome obstacle.

Can you call the lack of a road an obstacle since there isn't anything physically stopping you? Or would it be called an absence? Either way, it was a problem that had Daniel frowning. As he walked closer to the edge, Nina pulled out her map and began tracing alternate routes.

It didn't take Daniel long to come to the obvious conclusion and return. "Is there another bridge nearby? I can't see us spending five hours building a bridge that might not work."