Chapter 11 :THE ROAD NORTH

We left the farmhouse as dawn was breaking.

The fire had spread to the east fence but not touching the stone walls that protected the house. It didn't matter. The farmhouse had already suffered an attack and from now it was compromised. Plus, the Syndicate knew where it was and an airborne virus was spreading throughout the valley.

I heard myself saying, "Everyone grab a bag, we are going to the mountains. It will be a while before we reach new land, so we only take necessities, nothing else", while standing by the jeep.

Martha got to work quickly, tossing in baby formula and diapers and a couple of packs of flour. Chloe only stuffed a small plastic pouch containing a picture of Ben and her. Trent, however, went searching in his room and came up with a duffel bag full of clothes and a bottle of whiskey that had been hidden at the back of his closet.

"No!" I snapped, grabbing the whiskey from his hands and throwing it on the dirt, "Alcohol dehydrates you, we need the water".

His face reddened in anger but he didn't say anything. He just took his bag, tosses it on the floor of the Jeep with a resounding thud, and sat on the back seat.

Adrian hoisted the last of the fuel cans in the Jeep's trunk and took the passenger seat. "Where to?"

"To the mountains there is a Syndicate safe zone", I said.

We headed north taking the backroad to avoid the traffic jams that had formed on the main road. The world passed us by in slow motion. Rusted vehicles littered the street and fresh bloodstains stained the pavement on either side. Every few miles we would come upon a group or two of the infected swaying slowly from side to side, the whites of their eyes glowing as they searched for prey.

The children slept in the back seat clutching each other. Martha looked absently out the window. Even I felt weary. We hadn't stopped since dawn. The only thing keeping me awake was the thought of the Syndicate and their disease.

After a few hours we pulled into a gas station to fill the tanks. I kept a firm grip on my crossbow while Adrian filled the canisters.

Trent came out of the Jeep stretching, his legs stiff from sitting in one place for so long. The empty landscape impressed him. "This is crazy, you know. Last week I was sitting on a boardroom drinking scotch and now I'm chasing zombies and sleeping in cellars."

I had nothing to say to him.

You know, what you said about me? That I was good for nothing?

I turned to look at him. The look in his eyes was sincere.

I want you to stay out of trouble and do as I say. Can you do that

"Sure", he said, "I can do that".

"Good, because if you don't, we'll have problems".

It took us another six hours to reach the edge of the map. As darkness approached we came upon an odd sight. A great concrete wall some twenty-feet high pierced the mountain side. Heavy floodlights lined the treetops and soldiers in military gear walked up and down the structure.

Adrian pulled the Jeep closer and whispered, "There is the northern safe zone".

I looked at him surprised. "How are we getting in?"

"We have to go through the front gate and they will probably scan us because of the virus. If we make it through the inspection we will have to pay a toll. Food, weapons, whatever they want."

I looked back at the group in the Jeep's back seat. They were a sad bunch. More tired than anything else, but I had plenty of supplies to pay the toll.

Adrian must have thought the same thing because he looked at me and said, "So, what are we going to do?"

"Go over the wall when it's dark".

I pulled the Jeep over to the side of the road and disappeared in to the woods. The darkness hid anything beyond ten yards and a small grove of trees masked the Jeep from the guards stationed along the wall. Adrian followed close behind, a couple of the night-vision goggles dangling from the straps around his neck.

"Be careful where you step, there are blind spots on every wall", I said to him, "See a good one and let me know, I'll help you over on the other side".

We were at the wall before sunrise. The soldiers patrolling the top paid us no mind.

For almost an hour we crept along the base of the concrete structure. The guards changed shifts with military precision, but the area just beyond the treetops near the wall's northeast corner was still the best place to cross. A fallen tree along the base had cracked the cement, and that in addition to a tangle of vines and bushes, provided ample concealment from the guards.

"That's our opening", I whispered, "once we get past that tree we can climb the wall".

Once we were on the other side, the soldiers on the roof were still oblivious to what we were doing.

Crawling hand over hand we pulled ourselves up and over the top of the wall and landed in a small alley between two warehouses.

I was the first one to peek through the gap, scanning the street beyond to see if any soldiers were walking this side of the map. The Syndicate safe zone stretched out before us, covering an expanse large enough to fit half the city and more. Strange, this didn't seem like a place ruled by terrorists, but it should have been. It was crowded and there was smoke on the wind. It looked less like an occupied town and more like something that had grown out of control.

"That way", I said pointing toward a collection of tarps, wagons, and shacks. There was an uneven patchwork of pavement with a couple of food stalls and more guards making regular patrols around the area

Adrian took the lead, ducking back and forth between the boxes and stacks of supplies. There were families here, mothers trying their best to comfort children who should have been sleeping in the safety of their own beds. Soldiers checked off names from clipboards and stamped papers before handing them over to people who were more interested in eating than listening to them. It all struck me as oddly ordered - like someone had carefully arranged chaos into a more manageable form. I shook my head, trying to understand what government official could possibly organize something so insane, when we came to a wide street backed against a row of larger tents, the last of which was marked with a red cross.

Adrian turned to me asking, "What are we doing here?"

"Looking for the commander's tent", I replied. "If there is one here the Syndicate is in charge".

We back away into the shadows but just then a new sight appeared before us, something else worth pursuing.

In the distance a man standing off to the side wearing a nicely tailored suit, a clean shave, and freshly combed hair. He looked like he belonged on Fifth Avenue sipping a martini while smoking a cigar. Only this man had a few guards posted beside him instead.

My hand tightened over the grip of my gun as he laughed and joked with one of the soldiers. I couldn't believe it. Here he was, and the only thing that had changed was his wardrobe

"Change of plans", I muttered, "Let's pay my ex-husband a visit".