Page 80 of Glass Rose
At least a dozen military and civilian vehicles form a tangled mass of metal and glass a hundred yards ahead. Bodies,or parts of them, litter the ground. Some still move, crawling or staggering between the wrecks.
“Peachy,” John says.
“Can we get through?” I ask.
Gavin studies the wreckage. “If we stick to the shoulder and move slowly. But it’ll be tight.”
“Do it,” John says. “Longer we sit here, more chance of company.”
I spot movement in my side mirror, shadowy figures appearing from the tree line, drawn by the sound of our engine. “Speaking of company…”
Gavin threads the SUV past the concrete barriers, navigating the shoulder that’s barely wide enough to contain us. Branches and debris scrape against our sides as we inch forward, until we reach the pileup’s edge, and he jerks the wheel hard. The SUV lurches partially onto the grassy verge, tilting at an alarming angle while the tires spin for purchase in the soft earth.
“Hold on.” He guns the engine.
The frame scrapes against something metal with a sound that sets my teeth on edge. An infected, once a soldier, judging by the tattered uniform, slams against my window, milky eyes fixed on me. Its teeth clack together as it paws at the window, leaving smears of black fluid across the surface.
I meld into the seat.
The SUV breaks free with a final screech, careening back onto the pavement. Gavin accelerates, putting distance between us and the wreckage.
“That was too close,” John mutters. “We got lucky.”
Luck. Such a strange concept now. Is it lucky to survive in a world where death might be kinder? Is it lucky to witness the collapse of everything you’ve ever known? To lose everyone you’ve ever loved?
Maybe luck isn’t surviving. Maybe luck is havingsomething worth surviving for. I gaze at Gavin. Without him, I’d probably have already given up.
The outskirts of the city come into view, not a major metropolis, but large enough to have everything we don’t want to encounter. High population density and abundant hiding places for both infected and hostile survivors.
“Harbor’s on the far side.” Gavin takes us down side streets whenever possible. “Five miles through the city center.”
“Wonderful.” Every shadow moving between buildings makes my heart race faster. “Love a scenic tour.”
Scenic isn’t underrated. Broken windows, abandoned vehicles, makeshift barricades erected by people who thought they could wait it out. The streets grow narrower as we penetrate deeper into the commercial district, forcing us to slow our pace.
“The roads open past downtown,” Gavin says. “Harbor Bridge has four lanes. If we can reach it, we’ve got a straight shot to the marina.”
“Big if,” John comments as we pass an overturned city bus, its windows shattered and interior dark. Something moves inside. Many somethings.
I force a smile. “Maybe our luck hasn’t run out yet.”
The words have barely left my mouth when we round the next corner and encounter what the man at the barricade warned us about.
Harbor Bridge, our direct route to safety, stretches before us, completely blocked by the most colossal traffic jam I’ve ever seen. Cars, trucks, and buses sit bumper to bumper for as far as the eye can see, many with doors hanging open where their occupants fled or were dragged out.
And moving between these vehicles, a sea of infected. Dozens, maybe hundreds, wandering aimlessly. Some still wear the remnants of military gear—bulletproof vests, helmets, and utility belts with weapons still attached.
Gavin brings the SUV to a stop. “Fuck.”
“We can’t handle that.” I glance back at our injured companion. “He needs real medical attention soon.”
John straightens in his seat, face gray with pain but eyes clear. “I can handle whatever I need to. Don’t make decisions based on me.”
“If we proceed on foot, we can weave between the vehicles.” Gavin scans the blockage. “Stay low, stay quiet. It’s about two miles to the marina from here.”
“Two miles through that?” I gesture at the infected. “We might as well shoot ourselves now and save them the trouble.”
“They’re scattered,” Gavin says. “Not clustered. Most are trapped between vehicles. We stay alert, move carefully, we can make it.”
