Charlotte Hoaks. . . .(C. A. Hoaks)

They rode in silence for nearly thirty minutes before Randy pulled his foot from the accelerator and elbowed a dozing Miguel.

“Sí.” Miguel said then cleared his throat when he realized he’d nodded off. “What is it Señor Randy?”

“Ahead.” He answered.

They both looked toward half a dozen cars scattered across the road. Doors had been left open. The vehicles had been abandoned, no people living or infect seemed to be around. As they rolled closer, Randy pulled his handgun from the holster at his waist and slid it at the side of his right leg, next to the center console.

Miguel rolled down the window and laid his rifle on the window ledge. Randy glanced in his side mirror and noticed another rifle extend out the window of Pablo and Hugo’s truck. Randy drew closer to the vehicles.

“See anything?” Randy asked.

“No. I no see anyone.” Miguel answered.

Randy slowed as they rolled past the first car, an SUV. The white vehicle showed signs of abuse. They saw splotches of dark brown on the shattered head lights and along the front side panels and hood. The doors were thrown open. Inside, bags were torn open and the contents scattered. The back door gaped open with clothes hanging out.

Randy whispered. “There’re keys in the ignition.”

“Out of gas, maybe?” Miguel answered.

The trucks eased past the SUV and they drew near the next stalled car. It was an older sedan with a shattered grill and front end damaged. The doors were closed and again, no sign of the driver or occupants.

“What do you think?” Miguel asked.

Randy made a quick shrug. “No idea.”

He eased the truck around three more vehicles then a massive pileup came into view. At least a dozen vehicles blocked the road. The two vehicle at the front had crashed head on with several other vehicles slamming into the first car. The crashes were so violent none of those involved remained intact; all were reduced to massive piles of twisted and destroyed metal. Many had burned.

The road was completely blocked. The debris stretched from fence row to fence row. Among the crumpled metal was moving and thrashing bodies. The road was impassable. One side of the road was a wooded briar tangled wall. The opposite side had once been a pasture but now was tangled with massive stands of mesquite and clusters of cactus.

“What we do now?” Miguel asked.

“Get wire cutters out of the tool box behind the seat.” Randy answered. “Let’s get Pablo to come up and drive this truck. We’ll open the fence over there.” He pointed to an expanse between two fence posts with a shallowing of the ditch.

Miguel leaned out the window and waved at Pablo. “Vienen aquí Pablo!”

Pablo jumped from the truck and jogged toward the pickup.

Randy stepped out of the truck. “Tu disco.”

“Sí, I drive.” Pablo answered as he slid behind the wheel.

After putting on a pair of leather gloves, Randy pulled two machetes from behind the seat. He passed one to Miguel then turned to Pablo.

“Follow, but not too close. Let us pick a way through the mesquite. Don’t run over any of that shit. I don’t want to be changing a tire out there. We don’t have a clue where all those people went.”

“Sí, Señor Randy.”

Miguel and Randy walked to the barbed-wire fence.  Miguel cut the top strand next to a cedar post. Randy grabbed the end and pulled it back to the nearest post and tied it off. They repeated the procedure two more times. Randy waved for the trucks to follow.

Randy and Miguel walked to the south and led the trucks around a massive stand of mesquite. The trucks rumbled after the men barely out of idle. Past the mesquite stand was open grass for nearly a quarter mile then they faced with a massive rock formation.

Randy called out to Miguel. “Check to the north, I’ll go south.” He held up his had to stop the truck. “Wait.”

The truck stopped and Pablo threw a wave from the window and called out. “Be careful amigo.”

Randy called out.“Miguel, don’t take any chances. We don’t know what happened to the people from the accident and stalled cars.” Randy called out.

“Sí.” Miguel answered as he disappeared around the outcropping.

Randy walked a hundred feet before he noticed the first few drops of dark brown in the sand. He walked another thirty feet before he squatted and picked up a pencil of mesquite and poked at a dark puddle. The pool broke into pieces leaving chunks of white chips and a few unidentifiable chunks.

He stood and began following a trail of brown droplets. A stand of mesquite had long ago sprouted at the base of the rocks. Randy walked toward the edge of the mesquite. He walked to the edge and headed around and suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Ahead, Randy saw the remains of several bodies lying in the sand and rocks where Behind them was a solid wall of stone. The bodies were covered in wounds. Flesh was torn from the bodies, limbs separated from torsos, leaving the remains barely be identified as human. The stench rolled over him in a blanketing cloud of disgusting smells.

Randy gulped and the remnants of breakfast spewed from his lips. He leaned over propping himself up with his hands on his knees. He stood for several minute, struggling to control the dry heaves tearing at his stomach. When he finally got himself under control he pulled his elbow over his lower face and stared at the remains.

The survivors of the car crash had escaped through the fence and out into the brush and mesquite. They were being chased by infected. They ran and were slaughtered when they reached the wall. Even in the sorry state of the bodies as Randy stood there, heads turned his way, mouths opened, and teeth gnashed.

Randy looked around, suddenly frightened. Sand, desert, the infected. Where were they? He turned and began retracing his path. He could feel eyes bearing down on him and quickened his step. A few minutes later he was jogging then, running. He felt as if he could feel hot breath on his neck. He met the trucks and jumped into the passenger seat of his truck.

“Drive….” He called out as the first of the infected appeared in the distance. “Follow Miguel.”

The truck tires spun into action at Randy’s harried command. “Go!” He ordered. “They’re coming!”

Both trucks roared past the rock formation. They accelerated until they saw a man jogging toward them in the distance. The familiar shape of Miguel walking toward them made Pablo slow the truck.

Randy opened the door and Miguel slid in next to Pablo.

“It’s open ahead. Straight shot back to the highway.” Miguel announced.