Apartment 905, Sahin, Ned [black female authors .TXT] 📗

We pass by the Utah state border. It’s a straight road surrounded by sparse bushes in brown and yellowish. Mountains on the horizon complete the final touches of the postcard-like view of this deserted area.

Kathleen is still driving. She only slows down when we see stalled vehicles in our way. She gets around the vehicles and speeds back up to 100 mph.

“I always wanted to drive recklessly,” she says and chuckles. The excitement shines in her eyes. She has been looking forward to straight asphalt without any sort of radars to catch her.

“Well, with this speed, we’ll be knocking on your grandparents’ apartment by midnight,” I say sarcastically.

She chuckles again. I know that she is trying to distract me from the pain I feel deeply after losing Toshi. I try to stay in the moment and revisit memories later.

“I think we better take a break and continue in the morning though. Getting into downtown at dark would be risky,” I say.

“Totally.” Kathleen checks both sides of the road for a good place to pull the Humvee over. It’s a flat ground all around. There is nowhere to hide. We will have to be in plain sight. At least the truck is light brown. It should blend in with the environment well.

She slows down and goes off-road a few yards into the bushes before stopping the truck. We get on the ground to stretch our legs. It’s a warm summer evening with a clear sky. A light wind whistles through the open land. I wish we were standing here for a photoshoot instead of taking a break during a survival trip.

I wore a dark green military t-shirt I found in the truck. Otherwise, it was going to be hard to make a good first impression on her grandparents at Salt Lake City.

A shower following a warm cup of soup with a side salad and garlic bread would feel a lot better right now. Instead, we sip water from the bottles we took from the compound and eat the last sandwiches in our backpacks.

I can’t forget Toshi’s face. I remember the hate on his bloody eyes mixed with sympathy for his old friends. At least, that’s what I tell myself. I want to think that there is still humanity and kindness of my best friend left in that body.

Maybe that state of the soul is reversible. Somebody may find a drug to bring Ricas back to normal. If it happens, I know where to find him.

We lie down on the ground a few feet away from the truck. I close my eyes to rewind everything that happened today.

“I know, you are thinking about him... Please don’t forget, I am still here for you,” Kathleen says. We didn’t talk about Toshi on the way. I am not sure if I want to open up right now. I have never been good at talking about my emotions. I have avoided situations like these all my life. I decide to do the same. I will sweep my feelings back in my mind and focus on our survival.

I remember the bites on the compound residents who turned to Ricas.

“Do you think he is the only person who could turn others to Ricas?” I ask. There might be something about his DNA that caused the virus in his body to mutate. I haven’t seen or heard any Rica turning others before.

“Could be. I mean… I hope it’s the only case. The virus has been deadly enough.”

“We will find it out once we get to Salt Lake City, I guess,” I say.

I am afraid of going downtown, not only because of the Ricas, but also because of the virus itself. I am not sure how much longer my mask will stay effective, but I can’t talk Kathleen out of this. I know how much she wants to see her grandparents. They are the only ones left in her family.

“Tell me about where your grandparents live? Is it a big apartment complex like the one we lived in?” I ask. I remember our time as neighbors in Charlotte. We have come a long way since we first met. Everything we went through during this trip built a bond between us. I trust her like she is my family.

The last time she visited her grandparents was about two years ago. She told me everything she could remember about the city and their apartment building. It’s not a big city compared to the major metropolitan areas we went through, but there must still be a lot of sick or dead people around.

I wonder if there is some kind of gang or militia controlling the city like Saviors controlled most of the East Coast. If there is one, and if they are as cruel as Saviors, we may need to pass the city to save our own lives. However, if they are like Herington Rebels who are open to making deals, then we can find a way to get to her grandparents.

Another possibility is the Ricas roaming around the entire city. That would be the worst scenario we could run into. We don’t have any kind of firearms to fight with them. Our Humvee can provide some level of safety, but we may still get stuck in the narrow streets if we run into an influx of Ricas.

We start making a plan about how to get to her grandparents’ building. We draw a simple version of the street map of the city with stones and pieces from the meadow.

The building’s central location is not making our job easier, but we can quickly get to the place and take her grandparents with us if the city roads are open.

“Let’s get some rest.” I stand up to go back to the truck. We will find out answers to all of our questions tomorrow.

Chapter 33

We hit the road with the first sign of light in the morning. We will be in the city around noon. If everything goes as