DEAD IN BED By Bailey Simms: The Complete Second Book

PART 13, SECTION 4

We reached the Muldoon Quarantine Zone's eastern checkpoint just before sunset.

Ian had been driving the pickup, and I'd fallen asleep on his shoulder. I'd been dreaming that Ian and I were having a picnic together in a field of wildflowers, but nuns kept wandering by lifting their habits and flashing us.

He shook me gently awake.

"We're here," he whispered. "Looks like we're the only ones here."

The encampment that had gathered outside the checkpoint had completely cleared out. Every RV, tent, and Port-A-Pottie was gone. Only scattered trash and trampled sage brush remained. There wasn't a single soul.

Slowly, Ian drew the pickup closer to the barricade and the eastern checkpoint.

The National Guard was gone. The gun turrets were empty. The gate stood wide open.

"It's totally abandoned," I said. "Where is everybody?"

"This is what we hoped to find, right?" Ian didn't sound quite as hopeful as he was trying to be. "I mean, the idea was that if TGVx spread, there would be no more need for the quarantine zones. And we'd be free to go home."

But I couldn't stop thinking about the expired nuns. And I could tell that Ian wasn't convinced that our plan to save the world had worked so quickly either.

We drove through the abandoned checkpoint in silence. Ian headed straight for Muldoon.

"When we get there, duck down," he said. "No one will recognize who I am with my beard and hair like this. It's a risk, but we have to find out what's happening in town."

The streets of Muldoon were completely empty except for the abandoned cars that sat rusting in the fading sunlight. The warm air had broken up the ice in the river. It now flowed freely. The cottonwoods and willows were heavy with budding leaves. As we reached the bridge where Main Street crossed the river, we saw the first signs of life.

Muldoon has a little unnamed riverside park at the banks of the river; light from briquettes in the public barbeques illuminated the picnic benches, where people sat eating and chatting.

It was a surprisingly heartwarming sight.

My home town hadn't been abandoned after all. The people of Muldoon were still living. And still pressing on.

Ian parked in the shadows of a willow tree, far enough from the park where we wouldn't be seen.

"I don't see any Home Guard anywhere," Ian said, surprised.

Still, we had to be careful. I opened the camper trailer and quietly woke Chris.

"We're here," I whispered. "We're in Muldoon."

"We're inside the quarantine zone? Already?" Chris rubbed his eyes and sat up. "How the hell did that happen?"

"No Guard, no nothing." I shrugged. "We just drove right in. How's your headache?"

Chris stepped out into the dusky evening and stretched. 

"Totally fine now," he yawned. "Slept like a baby log. Best sleep I ever had, actually."

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