For Children of Sands

Head down on a pillow of concrete
I won't rest in peace either way
And I won't be forgiven
And I will never give in
I'll give you something if you wanna believe

The entrance that the gang had made into Kansas could have been easily compared to being engulfed then spat out of a tornado, in the most metaphorical sense. Within the first ten miles a battered corpse had to be manually dislodged from Ash, a pair of parasitical jaws had been only inches away from clamping over one of CC’s biceps and for the first time the gang had the privilege of hearing Jinxx scream, or shriek rather girlishly, as he tumbled into a mounted pile of corpses.

Other activities consisted of racing on foot away from hoards of the undead across deserted highways after stealing spare components off cars. Somehow, with a spit of luck, they always made it in time. If this had been cinema fiction, the montages of the gang bounding across the scrap littered tarmac and shoving their way into the confines of their beaten vehicles would’ve almost seemed comical. If only it was fiction.

It was impossible to dream about fiction though when the monsters were coming to life. The majority of the gang half expected the rest of their childhood beasties to leap off the screen.

Gradually, after two more speeding getaways, three more spare tires crushed into the car boots and an oil drum filled with petrol thrown into the mustangs backseat, a problem began to arise.

Across the intercom, CC’s usually calm voice stuttered, “Um- I think we have run out of water. Well, uh- almost.”

Silence.

“A word of warning; we are vouching on killing Andy first.” By ‘we’, CC had meant him, Jinxx and Jake.

Andy and Ash glared down at the intercom for a moment in disbelief before Andy forced his foot down onto the gas peddle of the mustang (which made Jake yelp as he fell from the gap between two metal barrels on the back seat where he strategically curled up like a cat on the sun heated patch of a sofa and remained silent) and made a speeded pursue after the cadillac which calmly ploughed on ahead. Once the vehicles were side by side Andy fumbled for a scrap of junk around the car, then rolled down his window and threw what he presumed was a crushed can against the force of the oncoming wind at the cadillacs drivers window where he saw CC’s grinning features.

CC soon returned the gesture with what seemed to have been a hubcap (wheel cover). Before the hunk of plastic could shatter his skull, Andy rolled up his metal grill reinforced window which only just deflected hubcap and let it harmlessly fall into the dust.

After a series of hollow insults and inappropriate gestures they had established that no one will be killed and that no one had a clue where the fuck they were. There had been no signs plotted along the red sandstone roadsides, except for one, but it had been swiped clean off its stubby rusting feet by a fleeting vehicle which had flipped in the air and crashed in an inferno off the road. It was still freshly cooked when the gang had pressed on the breaks to gloat on the still screaming barely recognisable remains of a human that crawled away from the wreckage. The screaming thing was being devoured by a small gathering of parasites. Even as the ribs were snapped and the intestines were pulled out from beneath the red flesh, it kept on screaming.

The dining parasites took no notice of the pausing vehicles. Fresh meat was hard to get by for them, despite that the virus had only spread through the span of three years the fuckers had managed to wipe out over 50% of the American population, this meant that the parasites would leave even a scrap of fresh warm meat to waste. But they wouldn’t pursue a moving car in the obtained knowledge that it would be pointless.

Those who hadn’t yet turned away from the sight turned sickly shade of green and felt a sour taste on their tongues. The cadillac was the first the speed away, it ripped away from its spot leaving black tire marks and a cloud of dust which hung in the air for a moment until the mustang hollowed the dust veil.

As the gang began to delve further into Kansas, veins of monstrous canyons began to branch throughout the dry empty lands. Without a closer look or a shaper eye, they could’ve been missed completely as the crevices seemed to merge with the identical flat lands speckled with colourless shrubs and grey skeletal saplings. They must’ve entered the tourist country, that could only explain the new brand of parasites; most of the undead that dragged their lifeless limbs along the roads wore tatters of branded beige clothes and neat polo shirts from beneath which bulged rounded stomachs which either were fattened up by excessive amounts of junk food or screaming human meals.

Before any other member of the gang could revert into theatrical hysterics along the lines of ‘I always thought that I would die in battle with a fucking parasite or an action packed pursuit!’ (The gang got tired of it after the first ‘Now a whimsy little thing like lack of fucking water is going to kill Rambo!’) The dusty landscape regurgitated a small town on the verge of tipping into the endless crevesse of a canyon.

It was a gathering of shabby houses, bars, convenience stores and a gas station. It looked like any other lone town in the middle of nowhere which had been cleansed with a good dose of C.P.V., but an tang of unease still held in the air.

There had been no protests when Ash had volunteered to investigate the gas station, even as he refused to take any weaponry with him. There was a fair amount of sensible logic behind it; Small towns such as this had experience waves of looting throughout the plague, along with the virus, of course. Any how, because of the looting the survivors of these towns would become hostile with any passing by fellow survivors and would rather shoot them than an approaching parasite.

Today, it seemed to be such a case.

As soon as Ash pulled on the handle of the gas stations backdoor he came face to face with the barrel of a shotgun. In the canopy of darkness stood a young woman, couldn’t have been any older than twenty six. Fearful deep set pale blue eyes stared at Ashley from beneath greasy tendrils of red hair, her hands were steady on the shotgun and her stance was defensive.

Slowly and calmly, Ashley raised his hands in the air and spoke, “I don’t mean you any harm, please, put the shotgun down.” With every word one hand lowered towards the barrel, but before he could clutch onto the metal the flick of the safety catch caught him in the limelight and the red-headed woman screeched at him.

“Keep your fuckin’ hands were I can see them! I know what you are here for,” The red-head glance at gang who had scuttled out of their vehicles as soon as they saw that Ashley was in danger. “Fuckin’ dogs. I’ve seen lot like you. Come and go. Worse than the dead fuckers.”

Ashley finally managed to find a grip on the shotgun which waved from him to the tensed gang which kept rooted behind him. “We don’t mean you an harm, we will be on our way.” Ashley tried to calm the clearly traumatised woman who seemed to edge onto the brink of hysterics. The easiest approach became to treat her like a scared animal.

A bullet whistled through the air, only clipping Ashley’s hair, he lost his touch on the barrel again. “The hell you are!” The woman shrieked, she then swung the weapon aiming to knock Ash unconscious but he ducked just in time and stumbled back as the crazed red-head swung at him again. Before another below could come down onto Ash, who was completely defenceless, with ease he swatted the weapon from the woman’s hands onto the ground.

A flicker of fear had flashed over the woman’s face and instantly sought for shelter in the gas station. It seemed to have became the last of her as she merged with the shadows.

“What the-“ Before whom ever had spoken could finish the sentence an engine roared to life, and it hadn’t been the cadillac or the mustang.

“You are gotta be kiddin’ me.“ Ashley’s eyes widened in fair state of horror then turned to the gang as he sprinted towards the nearest vehicle, “Get out the fucking way! Andy! Get into the other car!” He didn’t begin to explain but Andy wordlessly followed the orders with haste.

As soon as the engines coughed to life they all saw the source of Ashley’s terror. A heavily battered (clearly not local) SUV emerged from the corner, behind the wheel they could only assume was the crazed red-head who had been threatening Ash.

The on foot remainder of the gang sprang away from the SUV’s path and towards the gas station. The cadillac and the mustang made their u-turns and raced away from the oncoming four by four which showed no sign of logic or sanity behind its assumed aim.

Across the intercom, through gritted teeth Ash made his further instructions to Andy, “Drive towards the canyon, ninety miles per hour tops, when I tell you to turn, turn left!” Without waiting for a reply the radio link died and Ash jammed his foot down on the gas peddle. Beside him, in the other vehicle, Andy did the same.

The SUV kept on breathing down their necks, even as it oversteered and wavered out of control it showed no sign of slowing down. The speed kept on climbing and the monstrous car kept on coming closer along with the faint sign of the canyon edge.

Just as the cadillac - which was forced to its limits by Ashley - felt the SUV’s nose crash into its rusting rear, Ash yelled “Turn!” across the intercom. The mustang sharply turned left and vanished out of view in the cloud of red dust and rocks which had been ripped out from the ground. It left the other vehicle to plough on ahead on its own, refusing to turn away from certain death.

“Ash! What the fuck are you doing!?” Andy gravelled voice came through the intercom when only mere metres were left between the canyons edge and the remaining speeding vehicles.

Seconds left between the edge and the crazed drivers. Five… Four… Three… Two…

Ashley let go of the steering wheel kicked open the useless, broken to the seven hells door and and leaped out of the car and began his fall. Unfortunately, he seemed to have miscalculated as only his finger tips came into contact with the edge of solid ground. With a pounding heart and a desperation to live a day more, Ash scrambled towards his salvation atop the cliff. He only just caught himself from falling, but he could feel the stone and sand fall away from beneath his touch. He could hear the vehicles tumbling down, hitting jagged rocks which crushed the metal exteriors like fragile porcelain. There were also the echoing, animalistic, enraged screams of the red-head. She was moments away from death, Ashley knew he would soon join her and cursed himself; so he would die in an action packed pursuit.

Just as Ashley thought this was really it, the end of the journey with the sand grains shifting his fingertips toward the edge, he felt a pair of hands wrap firmly around his wrists and pull him to safety. As soon as Ashley’s feet hit solid ground his fell into Andy’s arms. Still shacking and unsure if this was afterlife, Ash relaxed into the embrace and closed his eyes, taking deep unsteady breaths and clutching tightly onto the loose fabric which hung off Andy’s back.

“You crazy idiot!” Andy yelled at him, clearly angry and distraught at any thought of losing Ash. “You are not actually Rambo.” Andy pulled away, his voice soft now, locking his fierce gaze with Ashley’s. “You do know that… right?”

“In that case, you are not batman.” Muttered Ash and instantly fell back against Andy’s chest.

“Touché.” Andy shrugged and spoke no longer.

Ash didn’t know whether or not he should have mentioned the bite that he had seen on the psycho-woman’s thin, bone white wrist, not that it would change anything. She hadn’t been infected, it had been obvious by the very sight of her. She must’ve been half way there, already losing her consciousness in the burning pain and the clouding of the mind, but not yet quiet yet lost. Ash had seen it before in Los Angeles, within the last few hours of being infected people would do many crazy things, they would turn into murdering suicidal maniacs. Negotiating had never worked, a simple shot to the head would be the only option. Unfortunately it took a little more than that this time. A damn good car and an even better fright.

It had not been the first time that this stunt had been pulled by Ash, but the previous time he had used a dirt bike which was cheap, perfectly suitable for one suicidal use and it was jam-packed with explosives. Years earlier, Ash had used it to wipe out a hoard of no less than a hundred parasites in Montana, it was effective, and he had also been younger then. It was sad to part with the shitty thing, Ashley even admitted he missed hauling the feather light thing on his shoulders through ditches and crashing it over and over again.

Ashley’s and Andy’s peace was short lived as complaints began to be sounded the approaching gang. There are five of them, remains of supplies which took up no less than half a car, two canisters of gas and only one car. The stupidity (besides the obvious) of Ashley’s plan began to emerge and the certain fact that the gang had returned to their primitive ways of transport.

Notes