𝑟𝑢𝑛٫ 𝑟𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑖𝑡٫ 𝑟𝑢𝑛; 𝑡𝑤𝑑

Chapter Seven ￫ -ˋˏ Between Mile Markers ˎˊ-

ʚїɞ

They had been on the road for what seemed like hours. The midday sun hung high in a cloudless sky, turning the stretch of road ahead into a shimmering mirage.
The warmth shone through the windshield as the world outside the truck's windows blurred into shades of brown and gold.

It was nearing autumn, the trees already donned their fiery cloaks which they would soon shed in the coming weeks, yet this was an abnormally warm day nonetheless.

Luella leaned her head against the dusty glass, the faint vibrations of the engine numbing her cheek. The air inside the truck was musty, thick with the scent of sweat and sun-baked vinyl seats. Her dad had the window cracked, but the breeze that slipped through was sparse and offered no relief.

Her eyes traced the distant horizon, where the asphalt seemed to melt into the sky, the monotony of it all making her feel trapped in time. She shifted uncomfortably, her shorts twisted at an uncomfortable angle.

Boredom weighed heavy, the rhythmic hum of the wheels beneath them the only sound breaking the silence. The RV ahead rolled steadily, and Luella's stomach twisted slightly each time she thought of the infected man that lay inside.

She glanced at her dad, his hands gripping the wheel, eyes fixed ahead. He hadn't spoken in a while, not since checking on her the morning after the camp attack.

Luella sighed, letting her eyes fall shut, the steady roll of the road beneath lulling her into a restless daze, her thoughts drifting with the endless highway.

Suddenly, Mark did something that took her by surprise. He slipped a cassette from the glovebox and slid it into the stereo, which crackled to life and began to play ACDC's Highway To Hell.

Mark only ever played music in the car when he was in and exceptionally good mood, and this didn't seem like one of those times.

Still confused, Luella decided to simply shrug it off, allowing her eyes to drop closed as she fell asleep to the sound of static filled rock music— Mark never did get around to fixing the radio speakers before the fall.

ʚїɞ

She was jolted awake by the truck coming to a sudden stop. Blinking through bleary eyes, she peered through the dusty window and found that they had pulled over to the side of the road behind the RV.

As she exited the truck, she witnessed Rick and Shane carrying Jim— now looking extremely sickly and barely breathing— to a tree just at the edge of the woods lining the road.

Luella waited by the truck as the group said their goodbyes, cringing as the familiar sound of her father's lighter clicked from behind her and the foul scent of tobacco hit her nose. 

She'd always hated the smell, it was heavy and acrid and lingered in her throat with a bitterness that refused to fade. It clung to her clothes too, and it meant people had avoided her in school, pointing and whispering and mocking her for the smell.

She was about to get back into the truck before Rick caught her attention.

"Hey Luella," the man called, tilting his head to gesture for her to come over. Confused, she looked to her father, who just nodded and so she made her way over to where the group were gathered in a small cluster just by the edge of the grassy verge.