Daughter of a Dixon ✔️

48: The Tipping Van

Dad and I followed the crossed car all through the night, and didn't stop until daylight came that next day. At some point in the night, I must've succumbed to exhaustion and not even realized it. One moment, we were riding down an abandoned road under the moonlight, and the next, Dad was shaking me like a rag-doll.

He scared me without meaning to, and I jumped in the car seat, gasping quietly. I looked over to him, looming over the passenger's side of the car and peering down at me. "Car's outta gas, we gotta keep goin'. Come on," he said, patting the hood of the car as he began to step away.

I rubbed my eyes quickly and stood up to follow him, trying to figure out where the car had led us. After looking at my surroundings, I was quick to realize that we were back in the great city of Atlanta.

"Where'd the car go?" I asked Dad, jogging to get beside him.

"Don't know; we're gonna head to the city, have a look around, see what we can see," he explained.

I nodded, looking down at the highway below us as we walked over a roadway bridge. "Do you have any idea where the car came from?"

"Nah. Not a clue."

"Well... the white cross must be for something. Not a church, they don't have community cars like that. Maybe... some sort of rehab. center? Some sort of-... wait, Dad, loo-..."

"Hold up," he said, putting a hand in front of me.

"But, Dad, there's-..."

"Hush!" he told me harshly, and I sighed. I saw he was looking out in front of us, and I followed his gaze to a small herd of walkers on the other side of the bridge. They were walking perpendicular to it, and Dad and I stood absolutely still until they passed it. Dad let them get a safe distance away before he turned to me, sighing.

"Now, whaddya need?"

"I was just gonna point out the fact that there's a van over there with the exact same cross on it as the cars that took Beth," I said, pointing to the opposite end of the bridge.

He followed my finger, and when he saw the van perched precariously over the edge of the bridge, he let out a breath. "Sorry," he apologized quietly.

"Mhmm," I said pridefully, nodding my head.

Still being wary of the walkers, Dad and I carefully made our way over to the van. When we got to it, I saw that it was mere inches away from tipping over the edge of the bridge, and plummeting down onto the highway below. I knew that Dad and I couldn't both get in the van to investigate, and since I was lighter, it made more sense for me to go.

"We can't both go in there... let me go, I'll just have a quick look around," I said, nodding my head.

I could tell by looking in Dad's eyes that he was extremely reluctant about the idea, but knew that it was the only possible way to figure out where the crossed cars belong.

He let out a sigh. "Be careful, aight?"

I nodded, and carefully put two hands on the back of the van, clambering inside. I stayed down on my hands and knees, crawling around the back of the van and looking for anything of significance.

Once I got a little further inside the vehicle, I saw an old, weary medical stretcher, and printed on the side in big, black letters were the words Grady Memorial Hospital.

"Dad, I think the cars come from Grady Memorial! That's what this stretcher says," I called to him.

"Aight, good job, Sid. Now, come on out, real slow," he told me.

I nodded, and began to back up, but then something on the floorboard of the driver's side caught my attention. It was a white bag with a red cross on the front, and the thought crossed me that it was a bag of medicine.

"Hold on, Dad... there's a big bag of medicine down here, let me grab it real quick," I told him, beginning to scoot forward cautiously.

"Sidney," he said, using the typical, authoritative, parental tone of voice.

"I've almost got it, Dad, just give me a second," I said, reaching the console of the van.

"One Mississippi."

"Stop it," I said, rolling my eyes and exhaling slowly.

Being extremely cautious, I climbed into the driver's seat. As soon as I put my full weight on the seat, the van lurched forward, and I grabbed onto the door. I sat completely still until the van stopped moving, and inhaled deeply once it did.

"Sidney Rose, get out, now," Dad snarled, sounding more frightened than anything.

I pretended not to hear him, and slowly reached down to the floorboard. Holding onto the grab bar, I leaned down and swiped up the bag quickly, and sat it in the driver's seat.

As soon as I pulled myself back up into the seat, though, the van lurched forward again, and that time I heard a crash from behind me. I snapped my head around to look, and saw that the stretcher had rolled forward, stopping in between the driver's and passenger's seat. I muttered a curse under my breath; the stretcher had blocked my way out.

"Dad? What do I do now?" I asked him, heavily regretting not listening to him.

There was no response, except for the sound of the van door slamming shut.

"Dad?!"

Still, there was nothing.

"DAD!"

Then, something rammed itself into the back of the van, and I let out a gasp. It echoed against the van's metal doors, and I felt the vehicle jolt forward.

And that was all it took for it to topple directly over the edge of the bridge.

A/N: I'm sorry this is so short!