Page 26 of Outbreak

Pulling over to the side of the road when I come to a seemingly safe clearing, I unfold the creased paper, spreading it out on the steering wheel. When I navigated us away from the grocery store earlier, I took some roads I hadn’t mapped out. Now, with the sun setting soon and no cell service for the GPS to work, I’m using an old school paper map.

It’s not ideal, but it looks like I’m going to have to get on a main highway to cross over to another back road along our route. Unease settles in my gut, taking root and making itself at home. The goal is to avoid the main roads as much as possible. People are panicking, and the roads will become congested and unpassable soon.

Fuck it. It looks like I don’t have a choice. The paper crinkles as I fold it up, tossing it on the dash. It’s only a short distance on the highway—less than ten miles to the next exit we need to take. I’ll figure it out as I go. I slide the truck back into drive and getback on the road. There’s a town up ahead, past the highway, but it’s too populated to risk passing through. We’re getting into the heart of Mississippi, and while some towns are small and safe, it’s not a risk I’m willing to take.

Coming to the off ramp that leads to the highway, I slow down and assess the area. Vehicles are moving along the highway at a normal speed, suggesting there’s not a backup of traffic in the direction we’re heading. The southbound lane looks clear; no cars in sight.

I’m still on edge from earlier, but I shove it down. The sooner we get to the cabin, the better. Speeding up, I take the ramp and merge onto the highway.

We’re not even halfway to our exit when my stomach drops into my ass.

“Goddamn it!” Coming over a big hill, I can see cars for miles at a dead stop, blocking the highway.

“What’s wrong?” Rue grumbles, turning on her back and raising her seat.

“I’m not sure. Traffic is stopped,” I say, slowing down and coming to a stop behind a silver minivan that’s overflowing with what appears to be everything the family inside owns. “Stay in the truck; I’ll see what I can find out.”

“What? Wait…” she says, grabbing my arm, sleep still heavy in her eyes. “I– I don't want to be alone.”

“Hey. Just walking to the car ahead of us to see if they know what’s going on. Just keep your eyes on me. I’m not leaving you,” I promise her, picking up her hand that is clinging to my sleeve and kissing her knuckles. “Stay in the truck and lock the doors.”

I turn the engine off when she nods reluctantly and take the keys with me. I’m not sure if this is an act, though I don’t think it is. But better safe than sorry. I can’t risk her playing me. I don’t trust her anymore. She’s gonna have to work hard to earn thattrust back. Fool me once; shame on you. Fool me twice… Yeah, I’d rather we not have to find out what happens.

Peering inside the packed minivan, the first thing I see are the children. My stomach sinks because I know the reality of them surviving if things keep going like this… is slim to none. And that makes me feel sick. I can’t even fathom if I had a child in this right now.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tap my knuckles on the driver window, leaning down to see a mid-aged man sitting behind the wheel and his wife beside him. He cracks his window about an inch, backing away in trepidation.

I don’t blame him.He doesn’t know if I’m infected. To be fair, I’m wearing a mask.

I take a step back from his window out of respect anyway. “Excuse me, do you know what’s going on?”

Before he can answer, an armed soldier steps around the vehicle with his weapon raised, and the man rolls his window down further.

Military checkpoint. Shit!

“Sir, do you know how much longer it will be? My kids are scared, as you can see.”

“Stay in your vehicle, sir,” the soldier orders rudely, waving his gun around, ignoring his question as he turns his weapon to me. I know Rue is watching and probably freaking the fuck out. I need to get back to the truck before she gets out. I saw how the military handles shit firsthand in New Orleans. If he lays a hand on her, I’ll snap his fucking neck quicker than he could think about pulling the trigger. “Get back in your vehicle and do not exit again until you reach the checkpoint.”

Deciding it’s best not to argue, I turn back for my truck, climbing inside as he continues patrolling on foot down the broken white center line.

“What’s going on?” Rue asks as soon as my door is shut.

“It’s a military checkpoint. We have to stay in the truck until they check everyone through.”

“Can’t we just turn around and leave?” She turns around, checking behind us. I already know what she’s going to find. I saw the vehicles blocking us when I turned around.

“Can’t get out,” I state flatly. I don’t want her to panic again. Though I wouldn’t mind reenacting the last remedy that helped her. But now really isn’t the time or place to be distracted, not with the trigger happy assholes walking around and the dead lurking around, ready to pop out at any moment.

She takes a deep breath, seeming to come to a decision to put her big girl panties on and face the situation head-on. I want to tell her how proud I am of her. But I don’t. She doesn't need the praise right now. She wouldn’t accept it. She can’t. That would be admitting she needs me. And she’s not there yet. I know she feels weak for breaking in front of me. I’ll let her feel like she has some control over this for now.

“Okay,” she says, letting out a steadying breath before she turns around and starts digging in the back seat. “Are you hungry? I’ll figure out some food. You figure out where I’m going to pee if we can’t get out of the truck.”

“Peeing? That’s what you're worried about?” I can’t help but laugh at her. She’s the queen of distracting herself when she’s feeling out of control or overwhelmed.

“Well no. I’m more worried about when the next time I can wash my ass is.Smartass,” she sasses, rolling her eyes as she pulls out some protein bars from the box and grabs two bottles of water.

“Keep rolling your eyes at me, and I’ll pull you over my knee and spank your ass until it needs more than washing.” She locks her eyes on mine, the brat she wants so bad to release swirling around in the icy depths. She settles for no response, shoving thewrapped bar into my chest and tossing the water at me before she sits back down and pulls her legs in the seat crisscrossed.

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