This Is Our World Now -A Walking Dead Fanfiction

Chapter Seven- Caravan

The empty city streets hook onto the freeway, I-5, and an hour down that road is Sea-Tac Airport. That is where our caravan of trucks is headed.

The cityscape rushes by us for about fifteen minutes before it changes to scrubby, thin trees and squat suburbs. The journey is eerily quiet, nobody wanting to mention the horrors we left behind.

I sit in my corner at the back of the bus, leaning up against the side of the truck bed. I watch the remnants of my city fly by. It's beautiful, actually, so quiet and peaceful. But I cannot get the thought of Nora out of my head. I need to know she is alright. She is my best friend, and I cannot lose her after all this.

I sigh and pull my gaze away from the scenery and look around at the people surrounding me. There are maybe fifteen to twenty of us all thrown in here. Most people are lazily looking at the passing city ruins, which none of us have seen in almost a year and a half. One or two people are napping, and some people have there heads between their knees, just folded up like an accordian.

I take note of where we are and I estimate that it'll be maybe twenty more minutes to the airport. Knowing I have time to kill, I rummage through my backpack for a book, but I forgot to pack one. I toss my bag to the side and slump down. I realize that I don't know just how many trucks, and therefore people, got out. I grab hold of the truck roof and pull myself up. I stand up tall, wind whipping through my hair. Brushing it away from my eyes, I squint and count seven trucks behind ours. I pivot, and count four in front of us.

Plopping down on my rear end again, I quickly do that math and figure that a little over 200 of us made it out. Barely 10 percent of the whole school's population.

The caravan makes a turn right off the highway, and we slow down and drive down the main road off the airport town of Sea-Tac. Sea-Tac is the suburb between Seattle and Tacoma, and the airport just happens to be in that town.

Masses of abandoned vehicles are piled here and there. Decay and detereoration is everywhere. Parking garages caving in and blackened on one side, hotels riddled with bullet holes. However, the trademark of the zombie apocalypse is the most prominent feature here- the scarred, bloodied bodies.

The bodies are all over the streets, grass, and sidewalks. Each time our truck rolls over one, I feel a sickening bump.

The low chatter that occupied the air for the past hour has died down as everyone takes in the gruesome scene. We are glad that we weren't here when this place was hit. I wonder ifthis is what the rest of the world looks like now, or are there still people searching, like us? I am pulled from my thoughts as my eyes lock onto the sign that may as well have read "Paradise," but instead it reads:

"Sea-Tac International Airport."