I regarded the sparse forest flanking the three-lane highway with approval. It was a welcome relief to finally see real trees instead of stunted shrubs. Ironically enough, the same trees were hindering our attempts to drive in the ditch and bypass the clusters of abandoned vehicles clogging the road.
Long grasses and saplings brushed against the sides of the truck as we slowed down. Three cars blocked our path, with more vehicles blocking this section of the highway. I didn't see any way around it, so we were going to have to do this the hard way. As I jumped out, Daniel's door opened.
"I can move them if you want to drive," he offered.
"That works for me," I said, more than ready to take the easy way out.
I claimed the driver's seat as Daniel tried moving a car out of the way. His first light push did nothing; the vehicle was in park, the two tires I could see were flat, and the grass had mounded around them over the years. Daniel shook his head and simply flipped it on its side and shoved it out of the way.
As I drove past, he jumped into the back of the truck. I returned to the pavement to avoid a fallen tree and zigzagged through the narrow path between vehicles, conveniently losing most of the zombies who wanted to greet us.
I managed to drive almost two minutes before I had to slow down and let Daniel clear another roadblock. This part of the highway wasn't too bad, but I could see the edge of the city behind the vehicle-filled overpasses, and I knew we'd be walking soon enough.
"At least this bridge is still standing," I commented as we got closer. "Is it feasibly possible to get any more vehicles on it?"
Daniel once more jumped out. "If you stack them, yes."
I snorted and idled behind him as he flipped smaller vehicles on top of their neighbors. Glass shattered and metal protested against his heavy-handed method of clearing a path. Slowly but surely, we crossed the bridge above the shallow creek and reached less crowded roads.
"Oh, look. Our first Runner," I said, nodding at the incoming zombie. "I was beginning to wonder where they were. I don't smell anything unusual, nor am I picking up that metallic undertone, but I think I'd have to be fairly close to detect that."
"I was just thinking it was strange that we hadn't seen one yet," Daniel said. "Turn down this off-ramp. There's a few labs and research buildings in this city. Judging by the map, most of them are by the river, so I'm hoping we don't have to go too far. If nothing else, we can check the university's lab rooms. It might have been overrun too fast for looters to grab stuff."
"In a city this big, pandemonium would have hit fast and hard," I said, glancing at the vehicles we passed by. Their contents were stacked haphazardly, as if they had been hastily thrown in before the drivers tried escaping the city.
"That's why I think we stand a decent chance of finding the equipment and parts we're after," Daniel said as we reached another blockade and he jumped out of the back.
He growled at the Runner, which then decided the truck was more interesting. When it reached the open window, I also greeted it with a growl. It actually took heed of my warning and climbed into the back of the truck, trying to locate the source of the human scent.
Daniel finished moving the cars and regarded our new hitchhiker unfavorably. Before the Runner realized what was happening, it was lightly tossed into the middle of a vehicle pileup. I kept driving as the zombie scrambled to its feet and tried to climb over the dusty hoods.
The smaller roads were just as congested as the major highways, and our progress soon slowed to a jogging pace with occasional pauses. Daniel seemed content to act as a bulldozer, and there weren't overly many zombies at the moment, so I kept driving.
He shoved a bus through a chain-link fence, and the bumper crumpled as it hit the side of a building. The leaning brick wall groaned and began shifting forward.
"Look out!" I shouted as I quickly reversed the truck, although Daniel was already dodging out of the way as mortar and pieces of brick began raining down. With the heavy whoomp of brick hitting pavement, the building settled amidst a huge plume of dust.
I eyed up the fifteen-foot-tall pile of brick, wood, and twisted metal spread across the road. "Let me guess, we're taking a different route?"
"Preferably," he replied, too used to Nicky to pay any heed to my smart-aleck comment. "If we find enough supplies, we'll have to make several trips, and it'll be easier if we get the truck closer."
I reversed the truck back to the last intersection, only scraping the paint a few times. Daniel winced each time the metal squealed at the slow impact, but with my reversing skills and the narrow path, he was lucky I wasn't playing bumper cars with every vehicle I passed. Even the Runner got out of my way.
Daniel headed down another road and moved a van out of the way, letting me drive past. The Runner ran after us and tried to climb into the back of the truck again. I ignored him since there were at least a hundred regular zombies already navigating around the vehicles in an attempt to follow us.
Not many were around the truck yet, but I could see more were ahead and coming down the side streets. Many houses and stores flanking this road had fences, and quite a few had zombies pressed against them. At least they weren't about to join the ones closing in around me.
As we drove deeper into the city, more zombies discovered our presence and surrounded the truck. Before too long, the horde became more of a roadblock than the vehicles Daniel was pushing out of the way.
There was just something wrong about driving over a zombie, especially since they ended up under the tires and I didn't feel like having their blood splattering against the truck. I edged forward slowly, letting them part and come around the sides, but there were dozens more behind them, forming an endless roadblock.
Daniel noticed I was falling behind and looked back, tilting his head for a moment. He gave a pointed stare to the side and gave a sharp hunting growl. The sound caught the attention of most of the zombies, at least the ones who'd discovered the truck wasn't edible, and they turned to face him.
Daniel sank into a crouch and stalked behind a transit bus to the side. Most of the zombies decided to join the hunt—or at least scavenge some leftovers—and began heading to where he had disappeared. The same Runner that had been chasing us the entire time remained in the back of the truck, not willing to follow the Terror in case he got more flying lessons.
I eased the truck through the remaining zombies and soon caught up to where Daniel had stopped his road-clearing efforts. He must not have been thinking, because one rusted-out truck stood between me and at least a couple hundred feet of open pavement.
The thudding of feet on hollow metal had me turning my head as Daniel ran along the top of the bus to evade the zombies he'd lured away. Without slowing, he jumped down and ran toward the rusty truck blocking my path. With a powerful kick that pretty much destroyed the door, he knocked the obstacle well to the side.
I accelerated through the opening, although I had to slow down since my delay had let more zombies close in. Daniel ran to the next vehicle blockade, leaving me to swerve around them and listen to the Runner in the back fall over onto the mattress. In the mirrors, all the zombies Daniel had lured away were once more in pursuit.
Another Runner finally caught up, and I growled at it, echoed by the hitchhiker in the back. The new arrival didn't appreciate our welcome and tried to First Strike the one in the back. Since I didn't bother slowing down to let them have their spat, the hitchhiker missed. Still, his nails came close enough to make the other one back up.
I turned the wheel to veer around more zombies, sending the hitchhiker falling backward onto the mattress once more. Daniel pushed a bus out of the way, revealing a massive sinkhole ahead that spanned the entire street.
I stopped the truck beside him, asking, "Do we detour or go on foot?"
He glanced back at the zombies streaming after us. There had to be close to a thousand of them, if not more. There was no way we'd be able to return to the previous intersection until they cleared out. I considered that as my answer and got out of the truck.
As I closed the door, the Runner in the back looked up, chewing on a packet of dried jerky that must have come out of the corner I'd hidden it in.
I crossed my arms as I regarded the pesky thing that had accompanied us our entire trip through the city. "What? Are you going to guard the truck for us?" When he gave me a blank stare with the wrapper still in his mouth, I shook my head. "You know what? You sit right there until we come back."
I started walking away, leaving Daniel to turn the air valves on the wood gas canister, but his disbelieving stare had me quickly turning around to see the zombie awkwardly settling down on the mattress, still chewing on the plastic wrapper.