Wildfire Book I - Survival Instinct

Sedalia

All hope abandon, ye who enter here.
― Dante Alighieri

The drive over the country roads was quiet and surprisingly pleasant. But Grace felt Daryl's gaze clearly on her every now and then, whenever he could risk turning it off the road. Anger was still seething inside her. His patronizing behavior. His tirades of insults to her - what had she done to him? It was as if he couldn't decide whether to be nice to her or push her away and insult her again. At least she could use the time to brush her completely matted hair and free it from the remains of the forest that still clung to it. With fresh, appropriate clothes on her body and brushed hair she felt better, but what would she have given for a hot shower?

She was grateful to have Jess between her and the redneck. She was so angry that she didn't have time to process what had happened. She didn't have time to surrender to the fear, the overwhelming panic that she should have felt at that moment, in that parking lot. The arrow that had pierced through the monster's skull, its blood still stuck to her shirt and skin. Only now did the shock creep up her back. Wrapped itself around her body like a snake, choking the life out of her. She felt as if she could no longer breathe. Her fingers went numb and the world seemed to revolve around her. Maybe this man was just sick. Maybe he was in desperate need of help. That would mean Daryl murdered him in cold blood. But what if he didn't? Would that guy have just killed her?

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when the pickup slowed down significantly and maneuvered through a motorcade as they passed the Sedalia, Georgia, town sign. With her mouth slightly open, Grace watched the surreal image. Again, thick black smoke rose above the small town and spread through the streets like dark fog.

"No drivin' through that. We're on foot from here," Daryl then said as the vehicles prevented any further travels.

"Ah boy... bet them psychos came here, too," Jess gave back with a sigh and rubbed his forehead. Grace couldn't help noticing how badly he was sweating and how high his fever was now. They urgently needed to find antibiotics and something to treat the wound - an ointment or something similar. The bite seemed to have become badly infected. Jess tried hard not to let it show. She admired how tough he was. She did not know how she would have acted in his situation. She was sure she would have complained about it non-stop...

Once again she noticed how different the worlds they lived in were. These people certainly didn't have much wealth. Or a very privileged life. That must have made them hard - perfect for situations like this. Perfect for survival. Grace was soft, she was scared, stuck-up, and not very confident. She a thought Daryl was right, she was actually a liability for her little group. She stayed, not to help them. She stayed because she needed those two men. Because they were her only chance.

"Yeah. Maybe. Town circled their wagons, you see? Looks like a damn DMZ," Daryl said, and Grace couldn't help noticing the main road, which was blocked by two trucks. Had people tried to barricade themselves in here? Build a wall between themselves and these... freaks? It was even worse than she thought.

"If there's any gas left, it'll be at Lucky's. I'm gonna stay at the truck, make sure it's not looted or stolen, maybe check the nearby area for supplies," Jess suggested, and Daryl just nodded his head with an approving growl.

Grace got out of the truck, the rising panic long since repressed. But the unpleasant feeling remained. A feeling of danger. A light summer breeze blew and drove away the sultriness of the afternoon a bit. But it also transported a disgusting mixture of smoke and the sweetish smell of decay. Inevitably she put her hand over her nose and mouth the impulse to gag... to swallow it back down. The stench drove tears into her eyes, as if it was burning not only in her nose but also in her eyes. The city seemed deserted, dead quiet. Not even the chirping of the birds could be heard. Like a graveyard, it shot through her head. On the street there was a considerable amount of dried blood, a lantern had fallen down - a car had crashed right into it. There was also blood in front of the open driver's door. She didn't want to imagine how it might have got there.