The Great Wreck (8 page)
I
watched as a military convoy blasted through town heading east and heard Tony
behind me ask, “Do you think those were the guys on the radio?”
I saw a
big ‘S’ painted on the sides of their vehicles, “I think so.”
“Oh,
god. That means whatever they saw is close,” Nicky said.
“What’s
close!? What’s fucking close!?” Dreysi screamed.
“The
dead,” Greer said simply.
I watched
as a guy standing next to his broken down car try to wave the convoy down. He
waved his arms frantically back and forth, and seeing that the lead vehicle was
not slowing down stepped out in front of it to try to get them to stop. They
never slowed down or even tried to swerve and smashed into him. The force of
the impacted sent pieces of him flying across the highway in a red spray.
Nicky, Dreysi and Greer finally agreed on one thing and started screaming. Even
Tony lost it as the guy’s body parts showered down onto the highway.
Up ahead
of the convoy I could see a nasty traffic jam on a small bridge that cross a
large arroyo. There was no way the convoy was getting across that. I saw the
lead jeeps stop as the soldiers contemplated what to do. I figured they might
get out and push the stalled vehicles out of the way and pick up the stranded
people who were jumping up and down and waving at the soldiers. But no,
whatever was behind the soldiers had terrified them to their core and they were
getting out of here and damn anyone who got in their way. I could see the
soldiers talking on their radio, then watched as three massive tanks pulled
around the jeeps. I hit the brakes of the Bronco and we all got out of the
truck and began screaming at the soldiers, “No! NO! NOOOO!”
But the
big tanks speed on heedlessly. People jumped out of the way of the huge metal
monsters or they got crushed. It took only a second of seeing the tanks
ruthlessly run down bystanders to let the people in the cars stuck on the bridge
know they needed to get out. Everyone tried to get out at once but the cars
were packed so tightly that many were trapped. I watched as the tank hit the
first, empty car and smash it flat. People trapped in cars a little further
down the road started screaming and howling. It was the worst sound I had ever
heard. The tanks never slowed even for a second but just plowed over the
traffic jam. I watched them crush dozens of people trapped in their cars,
watched as their bodies ruptured and blew sprays of blood out of the collapsing
cars, watched as limbs and torsos from people half out of their cars get
severed by the tremendous weight of the tanks. And then they were through, a
string of a dozen or more cars crushed flat behind them. Once they had made it over,
another tank, this one with a huge bulldozer like blade came through and pushed
the flattened carts out of the way followed by the jeeps. And then they were
gone.
We stood
there, crying and speechless listening to the cries of pain, horror, and grief
form those who were injured and those who had just seen their families
ruthlessly crushed then pushed aside like so much trash.
“We have
to help them,” Nicky said as she began walking towards the carnage on the
highway across form us, “We need to help them.”
“Nicky!
We can’t help them!” I said grabbing her by the arm, “Whatever scared those
soldiers so bad that made them do that,” I said pointing towards the blood and
gore covered road, “Is moving towards us now! We have to go or we will not make
it out of here alive!” I noticed Dreysi had already gotten in the truck, “Tony,
Greer, get in the car!”
They
scrambled to get in the car as I pushed Nicky in through the driver’s side. As
we closed the doors, I looked west again and saw another military convoy. On
this one the vehicles had a great big “W” painted on their sides, “Whisky,” I
whispered as I put the Bronco in gear and we surged forward. I drove as fast as
I could through the wreckage and chaos of Grants looking frantically for a sign
that would tell me where route 547 was, “Keep your eyes open everyone and yell
out if you see out exit!”
I dodged
left and right trying to look everywhere at once and not go off into the ditch.
Somewhere off to the west, I heard people screaming. Hundreds, thousands? I
didn’t know but it was like a wall of sound that filled the world and soon I
saw that everyone who could walk, crawl, run, bike, ride, or drive heading west
in a great panicking mob. I could also see further ahead that the mass of
people were spilling into the west bound lanes and would soon envelope us and
cut us off.
“There!”
Nicky cried pointing to an off ramp that had Route 547 on it. I gunned the
truck and we made it just as the panicked crowds rushed by us. We flew down the
ramp and onto 547 north jetting past a few more wrecks and burning buildings
until the road quickly emptied out again.
“Everyone
OK?” I said looking back in the rearview mirror. Nicky nodded but was weeping
silently as was Greer and Dreysi. I spotted Tony with his hands covering his
face, then looked back in the mirror again and saw something that would haunt
me for the rest of my life.
On the
overpass that we had just gotten off of, I could see the people running west.
Then I saw someone jump on one of the people fleeing, then another, then
another. Then I saw a huge mass of people, bleeding, torn, torsos open, faces
half gone, arms gone,
eating
the
people who fell under the mass of those behind them. I shook my head. I wiped
my eyes and when I looked back again the scenes of carnage had been blocked by
the curve of the road. I couldn’t have seen that, right?
I must be hallucinating from seeing the army
crush those people back on the highway, right? Right?
It
didn’t matter, I needed to focus on the road and get us up into the mountains
and to safety. So I kept my eyes on the road ahead of me and would not look
back until Grants was far behind us.
The road
was completely empty of cars and people so I sped up to fifty and held it
there. I didn’t want to put the Bronco in the ditch or fly off a curve. If we
got stranded there was no one who was going to help us, so I kept the old girl
steady, my hands on the wheel, and my eyes on the road ahead of us. We soon
left all traces of Grants behind us as we entered the Taylor Wilderness and
into the foothills of the mountains. I slowed down even further as the grade of
the road became steeper taking the curves slowly and navigating the path as
though our lives depended on it. We soon came up on an overlook and I decided
we all needed a few minutes to get out of the Bronco. No one disagreed as I
pulled off onto the gravel turnout and we all piled out from the truck.
Tony and
Greer walked arm in arm over to the highway rail and sat down heavily. Greer
was crying openly in great heaving sobs as Tony tried to comfort her. Dreysi
stayed in the car staring straight ahead saying nothing while Nicky and I
walked away from everyone and sat on the edge of the road.
“What’s
happening, Casey?” she whispered as the tears slid down her face.
“I don’t
know, Nick,” I said, “I think the infection has gotten out of control.”
“But the
soldiers, why would they do that? What could scare them so much to make them
run? The infected? The panicked crowds?”
I didn’t
have an answer so just shook my head and took Nicky’s hand, “We’re OK now.
We’ll get to the cabin and let this blow over. It will be all right.”
I could
see that Nicky didn’t believe me. I didn’t even believe me. We sat there for
maybe twenty minutes looking over the steep canyons covered with pine trees
that stretched out below us and into the desert plains to the south. Thankfully
the ridge of mountains to our right blocked the view of Grants, but I could see
drifts of smoke high up in the sky and knew Grants was burning. After a while,
we all silently piled back into the truck and headed deeper into the mountains.
A few
miles later we came to the first line of cars parked on each side of the road,
“What’s this?” I said to no one in particular as I slowed down and looked for
anyone who might step out in the middle of the road. Every type of car, truck,
SUV, camper, and trailer was parked front to back along both sides of the road.
We rolled by them looking in the windows for anyone who might be inside but saw
no one. Five miles later we came to the first major trailhead in the park.
“What
did the guy at the gas station say?” Tony said, “Folks were heading into the
hills, right? This must be them.” I guessed he was right. We passed the parking
area of the trailhead a few minutes later and it too was crammed to overflowing
but not a soul was in sight. We moved on.
A few
miles later we came across another line of cars, then another, and another as
we moved up the mountain. I began to wonder if we, too would have to park a few
miles away from our trailhead and hike that much further to get to Tony’s
cabin. We also started seeing cars on the side of the road with their hoods up.
I worried that if there were any big wrecks up ahead we might have trouble
getting past them.
Twenty
minutes later, I was proven right when we came upon a large mobile home type
trailer jackknifed in the middle of the road.
“What a
cluster fuck,” Nicky said beside me, “Who drags behind them a fucking train
sized camper up into the mountains?”
“Apparently
these people did,” I said as I put the truck in park and got out. The trailer
had completely tipped over on its side so we were not going to be able to roll
it out of the way.
Tony had
walked up beside me, “What do you think? Can we squeeze around it?”
I looked
at the wreck and shook my head.
The back
end of the trailer was firmly wedged against the steep side of the mountain and
the front end stretched across the road leaving about five feet between it and
the guard rail, “I don’t think so. We can’t make it up the bank and there’s not
enough room between it and the guard rail.”
Tony
nodded then began walking towards the overturned camper, “What are you doing?”
I asked.
“Checking
inside,” he said as he climbed up on the side of the trailer and opened the door.
He immediately dropped the door back shut and staggered back away from it
nearly falling off of the trailer, “Oh, god,” he said and puked all over the
side of the trailer.
I ran to
the side and yelled up at him, “What the fuck, Tony! You nearly fell off. Get
the fuck down, man!”
Tony
wiped his mouth off and quickly climbed down the side and walked quickly away
from the trailer, went over the guardrail and promptly puked again. I jogged
over to his side and put my hand on his shoulder, “You OK?”
Tony
just shook his head and leaned against the rail. I sat next to him trying to
figure out a way around the wreck when he finally spoke up, “Lot of dead people
in there man.”
“Dead?”
I said looking back over at the tipped trailer, “It doesn’t look that bad. I
mean, yeah it tipped over, but they couldn’t have been going that fast.”
“I don’t
know but there’s like five or six people in there and at least one of them had
their head shot off.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, I
could see what was left of the front half of their skull had three neat, round
holes in it. The others looked like they had been torn apart. It was a fucking
slaughterhouse in there, And the smell. I think they’ve been there awhile.”
I looked
back over at the trailer then got to my feet, “Don’t go in there man,” Tony
said as I walked towards the rig.
“I’m
not. I just need to look at what’s on the other side,” I said as I walked past
the trailer. I could smell just a hint of what Tony must have smelled when he
opened the door to the trailer. A sweat, sickly smell of rot drifted around the
trailer. I walked past it and saw that the truck that had been pulling it had
driven directly into the side of the rock bank that the road had been cut from.
The smell coming from the cab let me know there were likely rotting bodies in
there as well. I pulled my shirt up over my nose as I looked inside. I could
see that the driver’s head had smashed into the windshield but he must have
survived since there was no body. I looked in the back of the cab and saw that
there was blood, chucks of flesh, and scrapes of tissue everywhere. What the
fuck?
I walked
along the side of the truck back to the bed. It was packed full of gear:
camping gear, rifles, ammunition, tents, water, food, everything. These folks
were heading into the hills for the long haul it seemed. I walked back to the
tailgate and saw that the truck was still hitched to the trailer. If I could
start the truck, I might be able to drag the trailer, even on its side, far
enough away from the guardrail to let us through. I grabbed a tarp from the bed
and walked back to the driver’s side of the cab. I opened up the tarp and laid
it down over the pools of dried blood and viscera scattered across the front
seat, then gently sat in the driver’s seat. The battery would probably be dead
and we’d have to try to push the trailer out of the way with the Bronco or try
to pull it out of the road with the Bronco’s winch.
