I only drew a deep breath when I saw a highway patrol car pull in behind the accident.
Evan’s eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. Seeing them spotlighted that way, I noticed how dark the skin beneath his eyes had gotten. Did he even sleep the night before?
I climbed into the bench seat directly behind Evan. “How we doing?”
“It’s past lunch time. We’d made some good time then we hit a snafu. I think we’re going to have to pull off the road for some time. We’ll do as long as we can, but when the troopers and cops and sheriffs cars call it a night, I say we do, too. Don’t want to have a problem and be stuck out there as if we’re wild game.”
I swallowed hard. Wild game. That’s what we are now.
“Another hour? Two?”
He shrugged. “No clue. Just keep clocking law enforcement cars for me. When you notice the numbers start dropping off, let me know.”
We were slowing again. A military checkpoint. Evan let out a sigh and said, “Everyone dig out your identification.”
I went to the back of the bus, dreading having to wake up Sally and talk to Taylor who was still staring out the back window.
“We’re going to need our ID,” I said softly. “I’ll just—”
He shook his head, digging in his army coat. “I have hers. Let her sleep. Unless they make us wake her up.”
I nodded.
He handed me her driver’s license and his ID. It wasn’t driver’s license; it was a city jail temporary ID. My face went hot as my stomach plummeted.
“I—okay, thanks…”
His dark eyes found mine, and he said softly, “I did my time. Now I’m trying to make things right by getting my cousin’s wife and unborn baby to the rest of our family. Please don’t judge me.”
He looked away and continued to stare out the window.
I felt bad, but I also felt paranoid. I wanted to believe he’d done his time for…whatever it was, and he was now doing exactly what he’d just said he was doing. Trying to make things right. Start anew. Even if our world was a bit shittier than it once had been.
“Were there a lot? In jail?” I asked. I’d heard horror stories about the ones who’d gotten infected in jails. It had been a full-on massacre until the jails were able to segregate those infected from those not.
He gave me a brisk nod. “About half the prison population. It was…ugly until they figured it out.”
“Ugly,” I echoed.
“Lucky me, I hate beef. I usually just ate the sides on beef nights.” He gave me a grimace that was meant to be a smile. “A man who hates beef, all my life I’ve gotten shit for that. It ended up saving my life.”
I opened my mouth to reply. Maybe to say “You were lucky”, but Evan called out: “Eleanor. I need those IDs.”
“Coming.” I hurried away, grateful I didn’t have to keep talking to Taylor. I didn’t know what to say.
“Here,” I said, thrusting my passport and the stuff Taylor had given me into Evan’s hand.
He glanced at them, and his eyebrows went up. “We’ll talk,” I muttered.
One of the soldiers rapped on the bus door and Evan pushed it open. The man boarded, did a quick visual sweep and nodded to me and Evan.
“Folks, ID, please.”
Evan handed them over, and the soldier checked it out. His eyebrows went up too, and he shot a glance to the back to Taylor who was still looking out the window. Despite it being a prison ID, everything must have been in order because he handed everything back to Evan.
“The stop is to inform folks up ahead there were two attacks. Hollows coming out of a nearby abandoned apartment development. They came down the hills from the town above and ambushed a car. They usually shy away from the freeway because of the noise, but people still tend to be afraid because they feel exposed. Chances are it was a fluke. Chances are nothing else will happen, but we want everyone to be aware.”
Evan nodded. “Let me ask you, sir. If we want to get off the road for the night, is there a best place to go?”
“If you’re looking to get off the road around the same time patrols drop off…”
Evan nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The soldier, whose tag read Macpherson, rubbed his chin. “There’s a truck stop about an hour or so up the road. Big Rig something or other. They usually turn it into an impromptu stop over. Since it’s an actual truck stop, it’s on local patrol, state patrol and a lot of us roll in to have a meal. That would be a good place to circle the wagons.”
Evan exhaled. “Good to know. Thanks sir.”
Another round of glances and Macpherson disembarked. I gave him a wave and went back to Taylor, turning over the IDs.
“I think it’s a good idea,” he said. “People are going to be twitchy after this stop. Every little thing is going to rile them up.”
I agreed but said nothing. He took his ID and shoved it in his pack.
I didn’t know what to say so I simply said, “Obviously we’re rationing but if you’re hungry or if Sally wakes hungry, there’s some food in that plastic container. Protein bars, noodle packs, tuna pouches. You know…shit.”
That made him smile. “Much obliged.”
The bus pulled forward, and I headed toward the front, toward Evan.
* * * *
Big Rig Stop and Sip was huge. I hadn’t been at a truck stop since I was a kid and on a road trip with my grandparents. I had visions of a greasy spoon, big bathrooms with attached shower rooms, rows of lockers and a gift shop stuffed full of candy I’d never seen anywhere else again. And I planned to buy a bunch of it.
“We going in?”
Evan’s eyes went wide. “Seriously?” he asked.
It dawned on me then. We’d have to leave the bus. We didn’t know these people—not really. And we did know more about Taylor Brown now. Like his last name. That was printed on his
prison
ID. Unless Sally had kept her maiden name, she’d be Brown too.
“Oh.”
“We can all go in,” Taylor said from the back.
I turned to him, trying not to let him see the worry on my face. “I can just run in and get some food—”
Taylor nudged Sally. “Sal? Wake up. We made a stop.”
She roused and blinked, hands going to her face as she stretched and yawned. “My god. Did I sleep the whole time?” Then she sat up straight. “I’m sorry!”
I laughed. “Why? You’re pregnant and riding in a bus. Why wouldn’t you take advantage and sleep?”
“I just feel bad…”
“Stop,” I said.
“Yeah, stop. Now come on. I bet you could use a bathroom.” Taylor stood and offered her a hand.
“Why are we stopping.”
“For the night. The roads are…the roads are better traveled earlier in the day. We went about three hours. Good start.”
“Three hours?” She looked confused.
“Three hours in about six,” I said. Slow traffic, accidents. We had a stop. So now we’re hunkering down for the night.”
“We’re going in,” Taylor said. “All of us.”
I caught the accent on
all.
I wasn’t sure if Sally had.
At the front of the bus, Evan stood and stretched for about a year. I heard something in his back pop, and I winced, but he groaned with pleasure. “That’s what I’m talking about,” he sighed, then bent over to touch his toes.
“I could have driven some,” I snapped, suddenly feeling bad. And worse—useless.
He grinned at me. “I know. But we’re two peas in a pod.” He snagged me around the neck and pulled me in to plant a kiss on my head. It was both annoying and endearing. “Control freak, meet control freak.”
He stuck out his hand, but I punched him lightly in the ribs. He laughed and let me go. We all got off the bus together, and Evan locked her up tight. That was another thing my father and Mr. Peterson had added. An extra lock on the outside. Good thinking.
Chapter Thirteen
“How many of those are you going to buy?” Evan watched me load my arms with pecan nougat eggs.
“As many as I can carry. Put your arms out.”
He shook his head. “Oh, no. I won’t be party to your tooth decay.”
“Evan!”
He snorted and thrust them out so I could fill them with a bunch of eggs. He cradled them and followed me to the register. It seemed The Big Rig still took money, but also offered trade. People coming through didn’t always have cash, and money had sort of taken a nose dive in value depending on where you were in the country.
“Cash, trade or work?” the clerk said. Larger banks were still operational for the most part, though many small ones had fallen due to workers being infected. ATMs were not available in many places since they were easy pickings for robbery. Often establishments on the road would offer travelers the option of work or barter. Charge was starting to go the way of the dinosaurs as more and more people feared economic collapse. They wanted their money or they wanted work or goods in return. No more promises of payment.
I swallowed hard remembering when it had been cash, check or charge.
“Cash,” I said.
She started to ring the eggs up and paused to look at me and smile. “I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you like these things?”
“I grew up eating them. I fucking love them.”
Evan jostled me.
“Sorry,” I said, blushing.
“No problem. I have seven brothers and work in a truck stop. I’ve heard that word.”
I glared at Evan, and he chuckled.
“Was your meal okay?” She gave me a total, and I paid it.
“Great, actually. Nice to eat something that isn’t reconstituted.”
Fresh food was often scarce. It depended on who could truck what where. If you grew your own, you had a better chance. But you might even have poachers in your garden. Sick ones—since hollows would eat anything—or well ones who were just plain hungry.
“It was probably just reconstituted
for
you.”
“Actually, I got the giant salad with the eggs…”
“Ah, good choice.”
I took the bag from her, wished her a good night and we went to find Taylor and Sally. He was outside smoking a cigarette. She was in the bathroom. Again.
“Woman has a bladder the size of a peanut,” Taylor said. But he said it with affection.
“It’s the baby. Pressing on it.”
Back at the bus, we climbed onboard. We’d killed several hours in the truck stop, eating, wandering and shopping. Now the sun was going down, and I was tired. Tired from traveling. Tired from thinking. Fuck, tired from just existing lately.
I yawned, and they all followed suit.
“I’ll take first watch,” Evan said.
I shook my head. “You drove. I can—”
“Too wired to sleep,” he said.
I offered Sally the bed, and she refused. Taylor helped her get into a recliner to sleep, and he took the other when we insisted. I shut my eyes and figured any moment the fatigue would take me under. Evan sat up behind the driver’s partition. I couldn’t see any part of him but for his boot and the tip of his rifle.
I was so tired my eyes burned, yet every time I shut my eyes, they popped back open as if self-propelled.
Taylor was already snoring, and Sally was definitely out. I listened and heard the rumble of diesel engines and the pop and crunch of tires on gravel. Off in the distance, I heard sirens and even though that was an utterly normal sound now…it triggered anxiety in me.
I tried to breathe—failed.
I held my breath, blew it out, tried again. I got a breath, yes, but it was shallow. Not enough air. Not enough.
I got to my knees, crawled across the bed and tiptoed up to Evan. I hated being needy but maybe it wasn’t needy, maybe it was just a backup. Someone to have my back. Why did I have to put such a negative spin on simply being human?
Lost too many already.
He sat up straight when I showed up. “Eleanor—”
I pushed my finger to my lips. “Shh. I can’t…” I shook my head as another flare of anxiety burned through the center of me.
I was kneeling by his legs, and his eyes were lit by nothing more than the occasional sweeping illumination of headlights. The neon truck-stop sign painted a rainbow behind his head on the headrest of his seat.
“I can’t breathe,” I whispered. I put his hand to my chest and let him feel the chaotic beat of my heart.
“Panic attack,” he said, smiling. “It will pass.”
I nodded. I knew he was right, but it didn’t help me with that claustrophobic feeling in my lungs. I put my head in his lap and just sat there while he stroked my hair. Every brush of his fingers over my head soothed me. Loosened my chest a bit more.
I shut my eyes, letting my body relax. He always stroked my hair that way when I needed it. It was Evan’s magic touch—kindness, caring.
“It will be okay,” he said. His voice so soft it was barely audible. “It will, El. You’ll see.”
I nodded, and when I did, I felt the firm curve of his cock beneath my cheek. I smiled. Wiggled my head.
“El,” he chuckled.
“Shh.” I said it this time. I found his zipper and pulled it down. Taylor’s snores soared and then stopped, and I froze—we both did—until he started again. They were asleep.
“Eleanor, I’m supposed to be—”
“So watch,” I said. “Just watch while I do this for a minute.”
I found the head of his cock with my lips, my tongue and thrilled when he groaned softly and stifled it with obvious difficulty.
“In a minute, I might drop dead from how good that f—”
“Shh,” I said again around his girth. It made him sigh softly, that rumbling vibration from my mouth. I raised my head. “You might wake them,” I whispered.
There is something to be said for stealthy sex. Sex where you must be quiet. It’s a big, fat secret you share. And the secret is all about titillation and pleasure.
I stroked his balls by sliding my fingers into his gaping fly. I sucked and ran my mouth down as far as I could go on his shaft. My lips pressed his pubic hair. My eyes prickled with water from nearly triggering my gag reflex. He tasted of soap and salt and cotton.
I inhaled deeply, the scent of my Evan, and licked up his length to run my tongue along the smooth-as-silk ridge of his cockhead. His fingers tangled in my hair, and he gripped hard enough to make pain shiver along my scalp. Between my legs, I went wet and needy.