Chapter 53- Off ramp

A sign above us read "Elm Street 1/2 mile" and I moved over into the right lane. I could see the off ramp in the distance, packed with abandoned cars. The virus must have mutated just before the peak of rush hour because there was a significant number of abandoned cars lined up as though waiting their turn to exit. I felt a pang of sorrow for the fathers who would never see their families again, for the children who wondered why mommy never came home. How many children were unintentionally abandoned, like Oliver was, and how many more watched as their loved ones were attacked by these monsters, only to have the blood stained faces turn and slowly approach them next?  The cries of a child being attacked by its own mother sent a shiver up my spine and feeling of nausea in my throat.  

I moved my head from left to right, trying to get a better view of the traffic congestion ahead. Most of the vehicles seemed to be lined up patiently, waiting for their turn to exit, but it was apparent that the change had caught a few by surprise. I slowed down as I passed a minivan burned to a crisp. It was still smoldering, the entire front half crumpled into the back of an SUV. I did't have the stomach to look inside the windows. Another car had climbed up over the barricade, it's front wheels hanging idly in the air. The driver's side door hung open and I could see deployed airbags hanging limply from the steering wheel and dashboard.

"Where'd they all go?" My young passenger asked. Oliver's voice was filled with that wide eyed wonder characteristic of boys his age, where curiosity always overpowers danger. I steered the car between a large truck and an overturned motorcycle. "They're probably all looking for food." That satisfied him, probably because he imagined cute little families rummaging about the local grocer, helping themselves to the abundance of food abandoned by the world's conversion. Conversely, the thought immediately put me on edge, knowing that these drivers and passengers had probably been changed into infected ghouls, hell-bent on attacking any soul who hadn't been changed by this latest mutation of the virus. What my little companion didn't realize was that, the "food" these monsters were looking for was the few remaining people like us, and that by charting our course into the city we were practically driving onto a dinner plate. Unlike the relative safety of staying along the bypass that circled the city where we could maneuver around a few stragglers, we were now willfully advancing into the heart of the population where we would be in almost constant danger, trapped between towering buildings and countless abandoned vehicles. Compared to the numbers we'd encountered the previous day on the road we would be faced with hundreds more, and the false sense of security created by this vacant scene only meant they may have collected in even greater numbers deeper within the confines of the city.

 I bit my lip, thinking of Tracy. Had she even made it to our supply cache? Would she still be there? The thought of stepping foot in what would most likely be not just my death but the demise of my new young friend gave me pause. What if she wasn't there? Was I unnecessarily putting our lives in jeopardy for mere hope? No, not hope, but something stronger, something that drives me to survive.  I realized Tracy meant more to me than mere companionship, she and I had a deep connection, something neither of us had dared to speak of but I was sure we both felt.  It was more than romantic love, more than lust or infatuation, and I found my heart yearning for her, to protect her, to be near her, to keep her safe at all costs.  At this thought I steeled my resolve.  She wouldn't abandon me, and I certainly wouldn't abandon her. Resolutely I turned off the road, guiding our vehicle slowly and deliberately through the maze of empty vehicles on the off ramp.

The buildings of the city poked up from the ground like thick spikes, their steel and glass facades quietly reaching skyward, but their interiors teeming with certain danger. Could they get out, or were they trapped inside these man made prisons, unable to retrieve the cognitive power to use simple mechanics like a elevator button or stairway door handle? What were they doing right now? Wandering mindlessly about the office like the group we ran into on the freeway, or were they actively pursing the last remaining survivors, those poor souls who locked themselves in a supply closet or made their way to the roof? I wondered about that moment of change, when smiling men and women in their cubicles put down their phones and abandoned their laptops, and began staring at the wall. I thought of my own office, the round glass conference room where the managers spent hours debating various issues and pouring over detailed analytics. I thought of a manager standing at the front of a conference room, trying to direct attention to his carefully prepared PowerPoint presentation while the department heads stared at him blankly. Did he notice their eyes changing color? Did he think they were playing some sort of prank on him? Did he demand at the top of his lungs that they "cut out this nonsense!" and focus back on the company's top priority, some obscure financial goal that now meant nothing? I thought of the Jeff, Marcie, and Dwayne. Did they all change too, or stand around in curious shock when it started? As the transformation completed did they realize what was happening in time or were they run down near the water cooler or devoured by the copier? I shuddered and focused back on the vacant scene ahead.

As I neared the bottom of the off ramp the freeway loomed above our heads ominously. The massive cement pillars cast deep shadows across the road, making it difficult to discern the way ahead. We pulled around a large floral delivery van and immediately had to stop. Cars occupied all three lanes and a fourth had pulled around them onto the shoulder, stuck solidly in a space that was clearly too small to fit through. An impassible barricade, this obstacle would require we either abandon our truck or find a way to move a few cars out of our way. I pulled to a halt and opened the door, stepping on the door sill and standing up to get a view of the road beyond. Past the blockade the road was almost vacant, a few cars here and there but a clear way to move deeper into the city. There was no sign of roaming monsters that I could see, but the large buildings of the downtown area cast massive shadows in which almost anything could hide.

"What do we do?" Oliver asked, leaning over onto the driver's seat and looking up at me where I stood. "Stay in the truck," I commanded. My eyes scanned the shadows, looking for movement. I looked back at Oliver, expecting to apologize for my harsh tone but smiled as I saw him sitting back in his seat, hands gripped firmly around his hammer. A small, confident smile sat in his lips as he vigilantly looked through the front windshield. He looked strong, capable, and confident.  I was impressed with his ability to cope with the atrocities we'd encountered thus far, especially when you considered what trauma he had been through just before we met.  He was stronger than I was, stronger than anyone I knew.  He was meant for this new world, and the thought of that scared me.