Cynthiana by Dark

On the Road

Allen took the agreements, freshly thumbprinted, and stuffed them into a leather briefcase that seemed more scratch and scuff than briefcase. "Archive,"
he explained, as if it would make sense to the girls.
The older woman fussed with the box while Allen watched from the rearview mirror.
"You got any idea what's in there? What we really came out of safety for? Wasn't for you."
The way Allen pronounced "wasn't"-"wan't" was confusing his meaning to the Northern girls, until he spoke on. "It has a weapon. And it ain't our weapon. You mean you never tried opening it?
"I-we were strictly told not to. We thought there might be poison or something."
Driver swerved a bit to the right to avoid a large flatbed hauling fresh cut wood.
"See that? People getting desperate. Thinking those will cut down into wooden spikes or stakes or somethin'. But it's evergreen from the roadsides here. Evergreen wood is useless as a weapon. That's why it's still growing along the road to FC...Fortified Cynthiana. Useless. " Driver spat out the last word, and concentrated on the road again. "'Course, at least people are trying. Gotta give them that. But if they don't get Fortified, or make it to a Fortified city, not a lot of hope. If those monsters don't get you, the Workers will trap you. You two...you ain't been out of a Fortified city before, have you? You know what Workers are, right?"
The girls shook their heads in nearly eerie unison, hands to the box.
Driver quirked a brow. "Did the people that sent you tell you that the box was a holy relic, that it would protect you?
Well, shit.
They wanna get rid of you two for a reason?
They're gonna be comin' after us hard, once word gets out. We don't make it to FC by dark, we don't ever make it. That's why we don't stop for nothin'. Workers are human, but act on the orders of the bloodsuckers. Like worker bees, they gather food-other humans- for the vampires. They don't try to escape. They want to do what they're doing. And they'll do it to you, if you get out of this car for any reason. Ok?"
The girls nodded, wide eyed and pale. This is not what they were told.
"A broken down car is the latest trap." Allen turned around and offered the girls some water. It was cool, dripping with condensation. The girls hadn't seen cold, pure water in ages. They took the bottles, but soon handed them back for Allen to open. He grinned and twisted the tops, watching them with a twinge of sympathy as they drank. Why these girls? They were going to be a liability if there was trouble.
"Broken down caravan."
Allen nodded. "Yeah, those would be deadly. Couldn't get around them. Have to get out."
"No, Allen. Broken. Down. Caravan."
Allen turned. A gaudily painted set of vans were blocking the road.
And they had an hour and a half to go.