Deadland Rising (part 3 of the Deadland Saga)

Uncertainty (Chapter 4)

Minutes before we headed out the following morning, I faced a recurring debate with Jase.

"Fox Park is hidden," Jase said, his eyes pleading with me. "All anyone can see from the road is miles and miles of wilderness. I know it'll be hard, but we can make it work."

I put a hand on Jase's shoulder. "We'll make it back there. I promise. Just be patient a little longer, okay?"

Jase muttered something under his breath and went back to cramming his sleeping bag into his stuff sack.

I wanted to go back to Fox Park, too. More than anything, I wanted to return to something I knew. I also craved to be enveloped in the easy safety of New Eden. A familiar home versus trusting a man I'd known for barely a week. It was a tough choice. And I worried that we weren't making the right one.

My mood became monotone after that. We drove for hours, stopping only to refuel from the gas cans we carried onboard. Every gas station we came to had been drained, with the exception of one that looked like it had gone up in a massive explosion.

As we covered miles on the westbound I-80, I stared out the window at the landscape. Leaves had long since turned color. What few crops were planted before the outbreak were now brown and well past ready for harvesting, and I wondered if we could use it for food or seed in the spring. Most of the fields remained unplanted and were already returning to their natural state of prairie grasses and weeds.

However, the biggest difference in the landscape from that of a month ago was the distinct lack of zeds. Before the massive migrations, zeds dotted the landscape, with herds grouping around towns. These days, I saw the rare corpse, recognizable as once human only by the tattered remnants of clothing draping it. The landscape was devoid of life, with most animals being taken down by zeds or wild wolves and dogs. Before the outbreak, I'd imagined hell as a desert-like environment, full of fire and brimstone. Now, I knew exactly what hell looked like. It looked like wherever I was.

Jase and Hali were sound asleep in the front seat next to Griz, who was behind the wheel. "Do you think we're over the hump?" I asked Clutch, who sat across from me in the backseat. "That maybe we don't have to worry about the zeds coming back?"

"I think that's wishful thinking," he replied before adding, "But it'd be nice."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." I continued to watch the landscape passing by outside. I looked back inside to find Clutch watching me with concern.

"It's only natural to worry," he said, as though reading my mind. "It means you're human. Just don't let it screw with your head out there."

My brow rose. "You're telling me that you worry?"

"Of course. I'm only human."

I watched him for a moment before giving him an almost-smile. We were the lucky ones. We were part of a small world of survivors, who were still capable of thought. That was, if my prior assumption about zeds still held any weight. "Henry really came out of left field," I said.

Clutch nodded slowly. "Yeah. I didn't see that one coming. But it doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?" I asked.

"Believe me, if I could change the past, there'd be plenty I'd do differently." He shrugged. "But, I can't, and you can't either. We have to accept things as we see them and keep on living."

"Yeah, but what if there are a lot more zeds like Henry who can think and feel. What kind of hell must they be going through? Or, even worse, what if all the other zeds can think and feel, but can't control their urges?"