After 30 Days

Thirty-Nine Day 59

Our second morning waking up on that wretched stretch of road was even less pleasant than the first. My muscles ached and my mouth felt as dry as it had when we had run out of water in the late summer heat. We were all chilled to the bone and wet again from the early morning dew. Even Rex was miserable, staying curled up with his tail across his nose, brown eyes shifting to follow me as I paced around the camp.

Bill still hadn't come back.

We were going to have to leave. The water was gone and everyone was thirsty, and it was still a long walk before we would even have a chance to find more. The day before, things had devolved into an all out screaming match that had only ended when we had drawn the attention of a trio of zombies. Marcus had insisted on leaving. I had told him in not very flattering terms what I thought of someone who would leave part of their group behind. It had been ugly, and only the zombies had stopped things from getting worse. By the time that we had dealt with the walking corpses, no one was shouting any more.

But it was the next day now, and even I had to admit that we couldn't wait any longer. I finished up with the giant arrow that I had been using a rock to draw on the road. Next to it I quickly wrote Bill's name, hoping that he would come back, see the message, and know for sure that we had continued on toward DC. Maybe he could catch up to us.

Shawn brought Bill's backpack over and dropped it next to the arrow. I smiled at him faintly as I got up off of my knees. "Maybe he'll still come back."

"Maybe," he agreed with me in a neutral tone.

This morning, no one was talking about the obvious implications of Bill's continued absence. Dropping the rock, I grabbed up my own backpack and nodded to the men. It was time to go.

Walking away from the site without two of the most important members of our group was surreal. Marcus again took the lead. Sam followed a few steps behind him, and Shawn and I walked side by side at the back. We kept an eye out for any sign of our missing friend as the miles passed, but saw no sign of other people at all. At least being on the move helped fight off the damp chill, and I tied the second shirt around my waist when I got too warm to keep it on.

We'd been walking for a while when a thin trail of smoke going up into the air ahead of us brought our forward progress to a halt.

"It's a campfire, right?" Sam kept his voice low as we all stared at the smoke in the distance. "I mean, it's not enough smoke to be anything big burning. Like a house, or something."

"Yeah," Shawn whispered back. "It looks like a campfire. Whoever it is obviously thinks they're all alone out here." He paused, "Or maybe they don't care if someone else sees them."

My heart jumped in my chest. "Maybe it's Bill!" I couldn't help the flare of hope that the smoke was a signal fire set by our friend in an effort to help us find him.

"Maybe."

Shawn didn't sound like he shared my optimism.

"We should keep an eye out, just in case," Marcus spoke up.

The two other men both nodded, still watching the smoke curling into the sky. In silent agreement we moved forward again, but this time cautiously. I knew we were getting close to whoever was out there when Rex began to sniff  at the air. The tiny bit of hope that it was Bill  was dashed when the dog growled lowly and took up a protective spot at my side.

There was a run down roadside diner ahead, just coming into view. The one story building sat in the middle of a small parking lot, the forest closing in on three sides. The source of the smoke looked like it was a fire burning in an old metal barrel that was sitting near a dirty pickup truck.

A red haired woman was tending the fire, but noticed us watching her, and bolted inside the diner. Her long greasy hair disappeared through the door and it slammed shut. We were still at least a hundred yards away, but I thought I could hear someone yelling from inside. In a matter of seconds the door opened back up and a small group of people came out.

We were still standing where we had stopped. Nervously shifting from one foot to the other, I wasn't sure if I should stay put, or run for cover. When I noticed Shawn edging his way to stand in front of me, I knew he was wondering the same thing.

The other group didn't outnumber us by much. Two men and three women had come to stand in a loose cluster by the back of the pickup. Even from the distance it was obvious that all of them were just as dirty as the original woman had been. Stringy hair, scraggly bearded faces, and dirt stained skin framed hollow cheeks and haunted eyes.

Glancing at Shawn I wondered if we looked like them.

Looking back, I noticed that the woman we'd first seen wasn't with their group. None of the  people who did stand silently in front of us had red hair.

I was peering around Shawn's shoulder, he'd managed to successfully move between me and the strangers, as the gaunt man at the head of the other group slowly raised a hand in a wave.