Zombie survivor

[69] Explosive welcome

The bumpy path through the valley was rougher than expected. The RV groaned and rattled with every pothole and dip, the suspension barely holding up under the weight of its passengers and supplies. Ms. Heather gripped the wheel tightly, her face pale but focused. The teens bounced around inside, muttering complaints and jokes to mask their growing unease.

"Damn, Ms. H," Tyler called from the back. "You trying to put us in orbit with these bumps?"

"I-I'm trying my best!" Ms. Heather stammered, her voice tense. "This road is awful, and I—oh gosh—there's another one!"

The RV lurched violently over a hidden hole, causing everyone to jolt in their seats. Ahead, Morgan's motorcycle zipped over the uneven terrain, her figure steady and composed as if the harsh road didn't faze her at all.

Jean clung to the edge of his seat, his eyes darting between the RV's interior and Morgan up ahead. "She makes it look so easy," he muttered, gripping tighter as the RV swayed again.

"Yeah, well, she's not driving a tank," Brad muttered, crossing his arms as he braced himself against the jolts.

Morgan raised her hand, signaling for the RV to slow. She maneuvered around a particularly rocky section of the path, her eyes scanning for anything unusual. The RV followed cautiously, its massive size making it difficult to avoid every obstacle.

Just as Ms. Heather eased the RV forward over a patch of seemingly flat ground, there was a deafening boom.

The world tilted.

The RV rocked violently to one side, the force of the explosion lifting it off the ground. Inside, screams erupted as the vehicle capsized, flipping onto its side and rolling down the uneven terrain like a clumsy juggernaut. Supplies spilled everywhere—bags, cans, weapons—tumbling chaotically as the passengers were thrown against walls and each other.

"Fuck!" Brad yelled, gripping the seat in front of him as he was slammed sideways. "What the hell was that?!"

"Hold on!" Ms. Heather shrieked, but her voice was lost in the chaos as the RV completed another roll before finally coming to a bone-jarring stop on its side.

Morgan, already off her bike, sprinted toward the wreckage, her boots crunching over the uneven ground. Her sharp eyes scanned the RV, smoke billowing faintly from its underside. She cursed under her breath as she pulled her handgun, carefully approaching the shattered window nearest to the driver's seat.

"Is everyone alive in there?!" she barked, her voice cutting through the ringing silence.

Inside, groans and coughs answered her. Jean's voice was the first to rise. "We're alive! I think... shit, I think we're alive!"

Morgan didn't wait for more details. She holstered her gun and used the butt of her knife to knock out the remaining shards of glass in the window. "One at a time. Move."

Inside the RV, the teens were scrambling to orient themselves. Jordan rubbed the back of his head, wincing. "Yo, what the fuck just happened?! Did we hit a goddamn nuke?"

"Probably a mine," Jean said, his voice shaky as he climbed toward the window. "We must've run over one. Shit, this is bad."

"No shit, Sherlock," Tyler snapped, clutching his arm, which was scraped and bleeding. "How do we even get out of here?"

"Move, now!" Morgan's voice barked again. "We don't have time for this!"

Jean reached the window first, hoisting himself awkwardly as Morgan grabbed his arm and pulled him through. "One down," she muttered, setting him aside before leaning in again. "Next."