Zombie Soap 3: Revolution

Two

Diego

Without electricity to power the streetlights along the lonely highway, the only visible source of light came from the waxing moon and glittering stars. The truck jolted over every pothole and stone, sending everyone bouncing in their seats. At one point, something slammed against the passenger-side front corner with a loud thump. Diego pressed the gas pedal harder, praying whatever he'd hit hadn't been human.

"Are they still tracking us?" Abby turned in her seat to stare into the back.

Diego shrugged, unsure himself if Benson's cult had pursued them this far out or how far they were willing to go to retrieve their rogue party. "I don't know. We need to put as much distance between us as possible though." He didn't add how afraid he was of what would happen if those soldiers did catch them.

"We need to find a fuel source," Monica added quietly. "Colorado is a long drive."

Indeed. It wasn't like they could pull up to a gas station and fill up. "I'll see what we can find in Elko. We have enough to get there, so hopefully, there will be enough abandoned cars to siphon fuel." The other alternative was to hotwire another vehicle.

A few minutes passed when Abby squirmed in her seat. "I really need to pee."

Diego held in a groan. "Can you hold it? We don't know what's out there."

"No, and I don't have the convenience of peeing in a bottle either," she snapped.

This time, he sighed. A road sign promised a gas station, so he took the next exit and followed the signs, only to find what used to be a road stop. All that remained now was a crater with still-smoking debris and noxious fumes.

"What happened here?" Abby asked as they slowed to a stop outside the destruction zone.

Twisted metal and rubble lay scattered like toys carelessly tossed around a child's bedroom. A small section of foundation marking the building's location sat in smoldering ruins, now a heap of wreckage on the lonely highway.

Diego chewed his lip and weighed his options before grabbing the gun Sergeant Ackerman had left for him in the glove box. A full magazine had already been loaded into the receiver, and he flipped the safety switch to the off position. Facing Abby, he said, "Make this quick. Animals are susceptible to the virus, and anything could be in the dark."

Abby whimpered, but opened the door and slid out. "Am I supposed to just go in the open?"

Diego pursed his lips. It was a reasonable question from a child, and it would take time to adjust to their reality, but annoyance flared inside his chest anyway.

Monica saved him from responding and scooted to Abby's side, also opening her door. "We've got no other options. Just be quick."

"What about toilet paper?"

Diego twisted in his seat and opened a backpack one-handed, searching for a roll. Then he tossed it in Monica's direction, where it bounced off her shoulder and against the backseat with a crinkle. "Be quick!" he whispered, "Benson's guys aren't far behind us, so unless you want to face them or zombies in the dark, move your butt so we can get back on the road."

Abby shot him a glare, but disappeared behind the truck. Diego then passed his gun to Monica and spoke when she cast him a dirty look to rival the teenager. "You can gripe at me later. It's not safe out here."

"You didn't have to be rude," she muttered, taking the gun and swinging around to face her surroundings.

He sighed. "You know I'm right."

Still gazing outside, Monica shrugged. "I didn't see you treat Taylor that way when he ran off that first day. We're all stressed, and Abby is a young girl who's been through a lot. You can be stern without acting like a dick."

The words stung. Until he'd met Taylor, Diego had worn his hardened exterior like an armored mask. In his line of work, cops had to hide any emotions and compartmentalize them if they wanted to survive. They had to assume ninety-nine of a hundred people wanted them dead, and the only thing people responded to—for better or worse—was a show of strength. Though he hadn't liked the blatant corruption within his ranks, he realized he was no better as he demeaned his companions.

"I deserve that," he mumbled before chancing a glance at Taylor, who lay on his stomach, breathing shallowly. Stroking the back of his boyfriend's head, he whispered in Spanish, "Hang in there, leoncito. Hold on for me."

As if Diego's words cast the magic words to undo a curse, Taylor groaned and opened his eyes. "D?"

Diego shifted into a more comfortable position, but not before checking his surroundings outside his window. "I'm right here," he assured him in a soothing tone, "We're not leaving you."

"It hurts," he replied with a whimper as he closed his eyes. "I'm so tired of this nightmare. I just want to wake up in my own bed, yell at Jayson's stupid ferret for squeezing under my door again, and cook a proper dinner for you."

Monica leaned back and patted his leg, but didn't interrupt. The lighting was too dim for Diego to be certain, but he thought he saw the ghost of a smirk cross her delicate features. Then she leaned forward and called in a hush voice, "Abby, are you almost done?"

When Abby responded a muffled affirmative, Diego caressed Taylor's bruised cheek. "We'll have that dinner, leoncito. The moment you're back on your feet, we can make it together."

"Okay." Taylor inhaled deeply and grimaced. "Will you be here when I wake up?"

Fear that Taylor might not wake up threatened to overwhelm Diego, stealing his breath. Somehow, he swallowed past the panic and utter a single word as he blinked away tears. "Always."

He quickly faced the wheel again at the same moment Abby climbed into the truck and shut the door. "I'm ready now."

Monica secured her door next and handed the gun back to Diego, but he waved her away. "Hold on to that. You might need it later." Then to Abby, he apologized. "I'm sorry for being a jerk. I'm just trying to keep us all safe."

She nodded in his peripheral vision while buckling her seatbelt. "It's okay."

It wasn't okay; those were the automatic words kids said after a lifetime of conditioning to never question adults. So grown men and women like him could bark orders and not feel bad. "No, I should have been nicer," he confessed, putting the car in reverse and easing back onto the main road. "I forget sometimes what it's like to be human and show compassion."

Nodding silently, Abby crossed her arms and rested her head against the window.

He couldn't reasonably expect her forgiveness, but her calm acceptance humbled him, making him vow to be better as they traveled. Things would only be more difficult from that point moving forward, but they could still survive as long as they relied on and respected one another.

When his gaze traveled to the rearview mirror, Monica made eye contact and gave him an encouraging smile. Mimicking her, he stepped on the gas and sped toward Taylor's last hope in the dark night.