What Now?

He had wanted to go after her, but what good would he be to Tara if he became walker food? As soon as he had gotten into the RV, he locked the doors and scrambled into the cab to wait for her.

He sat there leaning forward, looking out the windshield as well as both the driver’s side and passenger’s side windows. He had waited for what seemed like forever. She didn’t show. Was she dead?

For a few seconds, he fought with himself on whether he should get out and go look for her. The undead horde banging and bumping along the sides of the camper squashed any thought of doing that, rather quickly. What could he do? She wasn’t coming. Tara was a capable survivor, but could she survive a fall like that?

The seconds ticked by, and the walkers continued to surround the vehicle. Soon it would be impossible to drive off. They would start breaking the windows and would swarm him.

Still no Tara. He couldn’t wait…

He started the vehicle, cursing the entire time, and pushed the gas pedal all the way to the floor. The vehicle lurched forward, crunching over the handful of undead corpses that had crowded around the front bumper. The others that were at the sides of the RV were forced back into the rest, knocking several over in their wake.

The RV sped away from the bridge carrying Heath with it. He swiped the sweat out of his eyes, but it did nothing to cure the blurry vision. His glasses had been knocked off his face by the decaying masses that had surrounded him as they tried to snatch at pieces of his flesh. He had no time to stoop to recover them. He had barely made it into the RV after Tara had fallen off the bridge.

He’d just have to go somewhere to wait out the walkers and then go back and look for her. Maybe if he drove a few miles out, took some turns and stopped for a moment they’d eventually wander away from her, (without coming after him) and he could go back for her. If there was anything left to go back for.

“Shut up,” he grumbled to himself.

He couldn’t think that way. Tara would make it. He knew she would.

As soon as he came to another road, he turned onto it and traveled on it for about a half mile before finding another road that took him deeper into the trees. He followed the road for a while as it winded its way through the thicket, taking it slow because of how sharp the turns had started to become.

He had wanted to stop on a straight stretch of road. He wanted to make sure he had line of sight in every direction as not to be surprised by more walkers, or even other living people. Unfortunately for him, there seemed to be nothing but curves and hills on this road.

He had just come around another curve when he saw something up on the hill ahead of him. He had to squint to make out exactly what it was. As it barreled closer to him, he could make out that it was a dark colored vehicle. A truck or a van. He couldn’t tell which, but he knew that it was big.

As it came upon him, it suddenly swerved right in front of him, causing him to slam on his brakes.

“What the hell?!” he was jarred forward into the steering wheel as the RV screeched to all halt.

He pushed himself back and looked out the windshield at the other vehicle. Nope, that was a dump truck. He could see it better now and there was no mistaking the shape. The back of the vehicle was nothing but a large dark blur, but he could clearly see two blobs in the front seats. The passenger door was pushed open slightly, but no one got out.

He retrieved his gun from the holster at his hip and clutched it tightly in his hand as he waited for someone to come out. It made him nervous. Normal people didn’t just sit in their vehicle just staring at the other person that they had forced off the road. He pushed his gun down into his lap, careful to keep it out of sight as someone finally climbed out of the truck and slowly approached the RV, their own gun drawn.

“Get out of the vehicle.” The tall dark-haired man shouted at him, though it was muffled by the fact that none of his windows were open. He got the gist, though.

Heath shook his head, “Nah, I’m good, thanks.” He called back after cracking his driver’s window slightly, “Could you move, please? I need to get by you.”

The man stared at him and stopped right in front of the camper’s bumper, “Get out of the vehicle. Now.”

Grimacing and cursing again, Heath sat staring out at the blurry figure, debating. What were his chances of running this guy over and racing off up the hill? He had no idea how many men were in the dump truck with him, other than the one in the driver’s seat. Would he be gunned down before he could get past it?

“Not asking again.” The man threatened as he leveled his gun on Heath’s face.

Panic started to rise in him, bringing with it the bile from his stomach. He bit back the urge to vomit and swallowed hard, pushing the contents of his breakfast back down into his gut.

Damnit. What now? What choice did he have, now? He’d have to get out, wouldn’t he? But did he need to? Did he really? He had not put the vehicle in park. He could easily take his foot off the brake and gun it. Consequences be damned…

Without further thought, Heath quickly moved his foot from the brake and slammed it down on the gas pedal. The RV launched forward, knocking the man off his feet and back a few yards. The impact wasn’t enough to kill him though, because he rolled off the road as Heath careened past him.

There was the unmistakable sound of gunfire seconds after he sped off, followed by the terrifying sound of blown tires. He tried to regain control of the big vehicle as it screeched along. He turned the steering wheel into the skid and brought the camper to a halt.

“Damnit!” he hit the steering wheel with his opened palm. He put the vehicle into park, just as two more semi-blurry figures popped up on either side of it.

“Hard of hearing?” one figure yelled at him, as he pulled open the driver’s side door and yanked Heath out from behind the steering wheel.

This man was bigger than the man he had almost run over and was able to wrench the gun from Heath’s hand and had him on his knees in seconds. He waited there with bated breath as he watched a couple other blurry people open the doors to the RV and raid the inside for its contents.

“That was a mistake.” A low voice came from somewhere behind him. He heard a dull thunk, and felt a sharp pain against the back of his skull.

Then all was darkness.

**

When Heath came to, he was confused because it was still dark except for a small slit of light somewhere beside him. His head felt heavy and throbbed dully. Was he awake? Was this a nightmare?

He lifted his hands and felt around him. Metal floor. Rippled metal walls. The room was long and narrow, wherever he was. He tried to stand, but the dull ache in his head suddenly gave way to waves of pain that brought him back down onto his rear-end.

He sat there, catching his breath as he waited for the pain to ease up. It took a minute or two, but it finally fell back to a dull roar in the back of his head.

He was about to slide toward the double doors beside him to peer out of a small slat between the two, when one door swung open. Standing above him was the tall dark-haired man, and a woman with oily blonde hair pulled into tight buns on either side of her head.

“Ah, you’re awake.” The dark-haired man spoke up first.

“Where’d you find this one?” the woman knelt next to Heath to get a better look.

Heath had to resist the urge to jerk back from them.

“Driving around aimlessly. Tried to run me over when asked to exit vehicle,” he grunted.

“Ouch… Did you really try to run him over?” the blonde asked, tilting her head to the side.

Heath didn’t answer. He didn’t know if he could even if he wanted to. The pain in his head wasn’t quite as intense as it had been, but it was still enough to keep him quiet. The blonde continued to stare at him. Though it was not an unfriendly look, it was not a friendly one, either. She seemed more indifferent to Heath’s plight than anything else.

“Don’t want to talk? Okay, fine. Here’s lunch.” She tossed a plate of sandwiches into the room next to Heath and looked back at the dark-haired man, “Needs to be kept healthy. Jadis will want to trade him.” She said as she shut the door in Heath’s face.

“That’s the plan, Tamiel. I brought him back here because he looked like a good one.” The male voice replied.

“Any luck getting the goods from the boat?” Heath heard the woman ask before the voices became too muffled to understand.

Heath listened to their voices as they faded away, and squinted down at the plate next to him. He picked a sandwich up and smelled it. He was instantly repulsed and lowered it back to the plate as he fought off waves of nausea.

What the hell was he going to do now? Where was he? What about Tara? Did they get her too, or was she killed at the bridge? These questions ran through his mind as he gently leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, hoping to ease the pain in his skull.

What now?