Survivor (A Glenn Rhee fanfiction)

Self Help

Chapter 57: Self Help
Kadyn's POV

I watch the trees and fields pass by out the window of the bus. Glenn's hand rests on my knee as he chats with the rest of the group.

As positive as I want to be and join in the discussion, however, I can't get my mind off of Baylee. She could be anywhere. She could be dead. But I have no way of finding out, because I'm currently on a bus to Washington.

"Maybe they're just behind us." Glenn murmurs to me. "Maybe they took the map, found some cars, and they're just down the road."

"They'll be able to catch up." Tara adds from in front of us. "We're just clearing the road for them."

We pass a small herd of walkers. The corpses snarl at us as we drive past, outstretching their arms and grabbing at the air, gnashing their teeth at the bus.

"How long will it be?" I ask Eugene. "After you get on that terminal and do what you have to do?"

Eugene turns to face me. "Depends on a number of factors including density of the infected around target sites worldwide."

"Wait, target sites? Are you talking about missiles?" Tara questions.

"That's classified." Eugene states plainly.

"I thought we were over that." Glenn says. "What if we all live? The secrets will matter then?"

"They might." Eugene replies. "Anyway, the speed with which things normalize depend on a number of factors including worldwide weather patterns, which were modeled without the assumption that cars, planes, boats, and trains wouldn't be pouring hydrocarbons into the atmosphere this long. Changed the game quite a bit when it comes to air-transmissible pathogens."

A moment of silence passes before Tara speaks up. "Why the hair?"

"Because I like it." Eugene shrugs. "And no one is takin' scissor or clipped to it anytime soon. Do you hear me, Miss Espinoza?"

"Yes. Loud and clear." Rosita chuckles from the passenger seat.

"Y'all can laugh all you want." Eugene states.

"No one was makin' fun." I reassure him.

"The smartest man I ever met happened to love my hair." Eugene comments. "My old boss, T. Brooks Ellis, the director of the Human Genome Project. He said my hair made me look like, and I quote, "a fun guy," which I am. I just ain't Samson."

The ride is somewhat quiet again until the engine makes a popping noise. The second time, we swerve out of control.

"Bitchnuts!" Abraham yells from the driver's seat.

The speeding bus turns over, crashing on the road harshly.

The engine hisses, and the bus is smoky on the inside. I struggle to stand up, grabbing my bag that had landed nearby.

Glenn grabs my arm and pulls me up. I stand and look around.

The bus was sideways, and everyone else is starting to get up.

"Hey, is everyone alright?" Glenn asks.

Several murmurs of "yes" follow back, although Abraham just nods a little. He had a gash on his head that was starting to bleed.

"The engine's on fire. We have to get out of here!" Rosita reports.

The walker herd from before must have caught up to us - I can hear them snarling outside.

"The walkers," I pant. "they're here."

We quickly move to the emergency exit.

"Alright, you and I go first," Glenn tells Abraham. "Knock 'em back and clear the way for Kadyn and Rosita to get out, then we all start hitting them."