The Run

Missing,the run #5

Anna was gone.

 Mac sat bolt upright and threw off his blankets. All traces of sleep had disappeared fromhim instantly, replaced by a rush of panic. Where could she have gone? Maybe she justneeded some time to herself, he thought, but the idea rang hollow in his head. His creepingdoubts from the night before returned. 

Anna had been wounded by a zombie. Was she infected? Was she already one of them?What should he do? What could he do? 

"I have to find her," he said to himself. But did he have to go alone? Mac thought for aminute. He definitely didn't want to bring Jeremiah into harm's way, but he also knew thathe and Dennis should not leave the young boy all by himself. 

Mac gritted his teeth, clenched his fist as if to prove he could use it, and let out a sigh. Itwas now or never. 

He fumbled around for the tiny key chain flashlight they had grabbed at the gas station. Hewished desperately that he had something bigger. The light of the tiny beam barelyreached his own feet when he pointed it down at them. Kneeling, he swung the flashlightacross the dirt around Anna's blankets and finally saw the footprints she had left in the softground.

The footprints looked strangely uneven, and he felt his stomach drop when he realized thatshe must have been dragging her injured leg heavily to make such long, deep marks. Hewondered if she was as scared as he was. He began to wonder if people stopped beingscared once they turned into zombies, then shook himself and stood up. If there was anychance that he could still help Anna, he needed to move fast.

 Walking parallel to the footprints, Mac set off into the woods. He took one last look back atthe pile of blankets were Dennis and Jeremiah were still asleep, trying to will them not tonotice his absence. He crept along slowly as the trees grew thicker around him. He movedslowly to avoid making noise, but thoughts screeched through his head at dizzying speeds.He tried to convince himself that it might not be too late. Maybe Anna was fine. He workedto summon his earlier hope that she had just gone for a walk, but it seemed less and lesslikely. What would he do when he found her? If worse had come to worst and Anna hadbecome a zombie, would he be able to bring himself to fight her? Even scarier--did he haveany chance of winning? 

As he walked, Mac began to hear the faint sound of running water in the distance. Herealized that he must be nearing a stream or a creek. He followed the noise and was soonable to make out a soft glow: moonlight reflecting on water. He drew in his breath when thebeam of his flashlight passed over what he knew instantly was a human--or zombie--shaped figure. Mac stood as still as he could, trying to decide what to do. The figure wasbent over and seemed to be looking down, unaware of his presence. 

Mac paused. If the figure was Anna, he didn't want to startle her. But if it was a zombie--orworse, a zombified Anna--he didn't want to get within arm's reach. He checked hisshoelaces to make sure they were tied and braced himself to run away if necessary.

 "Anna?" he called softly.

 --- 

Dennis awoke with a start. It took him a moment to figure out where he was and why hewas sleeping on a pile of dirty tarps. "Should've stayed asleep," he mumbled to himself asthe grim details of the previous day came back to him. He thought about trying for somemore rest, but his stomach objected with a loud growl. They had been too exhausted to eatbefore bed, and now he was starving. He shook Jeremiah gently. He could use the boy'shelp to get a fire going. Jeremiah only muttered and rolled over. Maybe Mac would be morecooperative. 

The hunger in his stomach turned into cold fear. Mac's blankets were empty, and he wasnowhere to be seen. Anna was gone, too. He knew that Mac wouldn't have left withouttelling him unless something was seriously wrong.

 "Jeremiah," he hissed, "you have to get up now. Something's wrong."

The boy sat up and rubbed his eyes, hair sticking out in all directions. "What is it?" heasked in confusion. 

"Mac and Anna," Dennis replied, "they're gone." 

Jeremiah blinked. "Maybe they went for a walk?" he suggested hopefully.

 Dennis shook his head. He didn't want to alarm Jeremiah, but there was no time for falsehope. He considered the possibilities. Had zombies gotten to Mac and Anna while theywere sleeping? He doubted it. Zombies weren't known for their stealth--he definitely wouldhave woken up to their loud groans and heavy, clumsy footsteps. That meant that Mac andAnna must have left of their own will. But why? 

He shook his head again. At this point, all that mattered was finding their friends. "Let's go,he told Jeremiah, pointing to the truck. Sensing his urgency, the boy cooperated withoutfurther protest. He gathered an armful of blankets and secured them to the bed of the truckwith the ratty old rope that had held the bundle together. 

Dennis paused. Which direction should they go? As Jeremiah hopped into the truck'spassenger seat, Dennis strode over to collect the blankets that Mac and Anna had slept in.There was no point in abandoning their few supplies. As he bent to gather them up, hespotted the imprint of a shoe in the dirt. Tracks! Just one pair of footprints at first, startingfrom Mac's blankets, and then another starting from Anna's. Dennis frowned. Where theyjoined up, the two sets of footprints were strangely close together--too close for two peopleto have been walking next to each other at the same time. One of them must have left thecamp first, then the other followed later. But why?

 Brow furrowed, Dennis hurried to the truck. He remembered how worried Mac had beenthe night before, even after they had used the hand sanitizer to clean Anna's wound. Hehadn't seemed to share Dennis's relief that the sanitizer would kill any germs that mightcause an infection.

 Infection. The word rang in Dennis's head. Of course! Anna had been injured by a zombie.Wasn't that how the plague spread? Was she a zombie now? If so, could she--would she--infect Mac, too?

 Dennis leapt into the driver's seat and peered out, tires whirring against the soft dirt. Hesteered the truck along the path of footprints as quickly as he could amid the thickeningtrees. The bumpy ground jolted the old truck around, and Jeremiah squealed as aparticularly nasty bump lifted him straight off his seat and practically out the window.

 "Buckle up," Dennis ordered, "this ride may get even bumpier."

 As they progressed, Dennis felt breathless--a combination of the truck's jostling and hisown rising panic. They had no weapons, no way to defend themselves. He ran through amental list of the items they had grabbed from the gas station, but none of them would help. Out of habit, he punched on the radio, then remembered that it would just producestatic. Petey "Muskrat" Coltrain's bluegrass station and all the others had ceasedbroadcasting weeks ago as the plague intensified. 

But it wasn't static. Somehow, it was playing music! And not just any music, but a livelybluegrass tune that he recognized from his time listening to the Muskrat's station while heand Mac were back at the farm.

 "Well, at least we have a soundtrack," he said to Jeremiah, strangely cheered by thefamiliar song. Jeremiah seemed unimpressed. Turning his full attention to the path ahead,Dennis focused his gaze and braked slightly. Ahead and to their left, he could make out astream flowing through the trees in the distance. He squinted. Something was moving nextto the water. Were those people? They were--it was Mac and Anna!

 Dennis and Jeremiah stared in horror. Anna had a hand firmly around Mac's throat.