Brian stood outside the motel, waiting for Osborne to back the RV out of the corner.
A thought struck him, and he turned to Kelly.
“Why are all the cars here empty?
Did you drain them?” “Yep.” Kelly leaned against the wall, her expression sour as if remembering something unpleasant.
“We got here yesterday, figured we’d fill up.
But some jerk had already drained the gas station dry.
So we spent the whole day searching the motel, finding every set of keys, and siphoning whatever was left in the tanks.
There wasn’t much.” She glanced at Brian and Sarah with a hint of relief.
“Good thing you showed up.
Otherwise, we’d have to risk going into town for gas today.” Brian rolled his eyes.
Great.
We’re delivery service now.
Osborne pulled the RV up to the convenience store and waved the kids inside to load supplies.
Oddly enough, while the gas station was completely empty, the convenience store hadn’t been touched.
Not a single can of food was missing.
They spent the next hour hauling supplies into the RV.
Osborne siphoned the remaining gas from Brian’s shot-up car.
By the time they finished, everything was packed, and Osborne took the wheel, merging back onto the highway.
Brian sat in the passenger seat, exchanging information with Osborne.
He learned the full story of why the man had been so wary of him and Sarah.
Osborne and Kelly had lived in Round Rock.
Their house was remote, rarely visited, so when the outbreak hit, they didn’t panic and flee like everyone else.
Instead, they stocked up at the nearest supermarket, boarded up their windows, and waited for rescue.
A week passed.
Water, power, internet—everything went dark.
No rescue came.
Then one day, a few children knocked on their door, begging for food.
Osborne’s heart went out to them.
He let them in, fed them, gave them shelter.
But kindness was a weakness.
That night, the children unlocked the front door and let in a dozen armed men and women.
Osborne and Kelly were taken completely by surprise.
They woke up to find themselves overpowered.
From the intruders’ conversations, Osborne learned the horrifying truth.
The group wasn’t a family or a community.
They were three families who’d fled their homes and banded together.
At first, they cooperated.
But as food ran low, tensions rose.
No one dared venture into infected areas, and safe places had long been picked clean.
Facing starvation and internal conflict, someone proposed a terrible solution.
Send the children to knock on doors.
Find houses with survivors.
Gain their trust.
Stay the night.
Then, in the dead of night, open the doors and let the adults in.
Overpower the unsuspecting homeowners and take everything.
It worked.
Before Osborne, they’d done it to at least a dozen houses.
The original owners were killed and dumped outside.
Osborne had never imagined that, in just days, these people would become monsters.
He kept his rage in check, bided his time, and managed to free himself and Kelly.
While the group was distracted, he slipped out of the house.
He sealed the doors from the outside and set the house on fire.
He listened to their screams as they burned.
Then he and Kelly left Round Rock, heading for Dallas.
Their car ran out of gas, so they stopped at the service station, where they’d found Brian and Sarah.
Brian listened to Osborne’s story in silence.
It was the first time he truly understood the darkness people could sink to in a disaster.
He’d seen it in movies and read it in books, but hearing it from someone who’d lived through it was different.
He leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and tried to empty his mind.
Slowly, exhaustion pulled him under.
Beep…
beep…
When Brian opened his eyes again, rain was falling outside.
Soft music played from the RV’s speakers.
The atmosphere was peaceful.
He checked his watch.
Eleven o’clock.
He’d been asleep for nearly two hours.
Osborne noticed him stirring.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” Brian sat up and stretched, clearing the fog from his head.
Through the rearview mirror, he could see Kelly and Sarah lying on the beds in the back, murmuring softly to each other.
Kelly caught him looking and shot him a glare.
“What are you staring at?” Brian turned away, focusing on the road ahead.
They were on Interstate 35.
He turned to Osborne.
“Where are we now?” Osborne’s tone was grim.
“Past Waco.
Shouldn’t be much further.
The outbreak is worse than I thought.
Every city and town we’ve passed is completely gone.
I don’t know what we’ll find in Dallas.” Brian thought for a moment.
“Dallas is practically in the middle of the country.
Even if the outbreak is bad, the government wouldn’t just let it fall.” Osborne raised an eyebrow, impressed by the boy’s insight.
“True.
But Dallas isn’t alone.
Fort Worth and Arlington are right next to it.
If they abandon Dallas, they lose all three.
That’s a massive chunk of the state.
Unless the infection is completely out of control, they won’t give it up.” “Then what are you worried about?” Osborne’s smile faded.
“It’s not the infection I’m worried about.
It’s the people inside.” He explained.
“Quarantine measures hurt people’s livelihoods.
Some of them won’t take it lying down.
They’ll protest.
March in the streets.
And criminals will use the chaos as cover.
I’m afraid of what we’ll find when we get there.” Brian understood.
It was like the pandemic from his past life.
People would complain at the first sign of inconvenience, demanding their “rights” while ignoring the bigger threat.
Politicians would pander to them for votes.
“But if they keep making noise, aren’t they just spreading the infection faster?” Brian asked.
Osborne’s smile turned bitter.
“People don’t understand fear until disaster knocks on their door.” “Hey.
Look.” Brian pointed ahead.
As they rounded a bend, the highway opened up.
A line of cars stretched for miles, bumper to bumper.
Military trucks patrolled both sides of the road.
Helicopters circled overhead.
At the end of the line stood a massive quarantine wall.
Soldiers patrolled its length.
Two people in hazmat suits scanned each vehicle with handheld devices before waving them through.
Brian and Osborne exchanged a look of pure relief.
“They made it.”