Snippet #2230441

Natalie Williams sank lower in the passenger seat of the car as the convoy of military vehicles thundered past her along the highway. She wasn’t a wanted felon or anything but she’d learned that life was easier if you avoided the military or other government operations. They weren’t all bad but she’d seen the results of some of their more vicious raids. There had been a high body count.
So she waited in the car sitting on cinderblocks on the side of the road with its fuel gauge on zero until the last army-green jeep was a dark smudge in the distance before she got out of the car. A lone infected, alerted by the sound of the engines ran stumbling along the road ahead of her in the direction the trucks had gone. It would continue after the convoy indefinitely if something else didn’t grab its attention. Something like Natalie.
She slammed the car door and gripped her crowbar more securely in her gloved hands. Her sawn off shotgun stayed sticking out of the rucksack slung across her back the Glock stayed tucked in the waistband of her jeans. Ammo was valuable and the crowbar was her only constant.
The infected halted with a wobble, turned its ravaged face towards her and groaned. Then it started to run. As it quickly closed the distance, misshapen hands clawing the air in front of it and its hungry mouth hanging open trailing dark vicious liquid down its neck, Natalie hefted the crowbar up waited until she could see the dull lifeless pupils of those yellow eyes and swung. As usual, and due to months of practice, the hit landed true, square in the head. The body fell to the side of her with the momentum of the blow and the contents of its skull proceeded to ooze out onto the bitumen. Natalie wiped the crowbar on the infected’s once-was-a-shirt-rag , stepped past the body and continued her trek along the highway.

It had been four months and she was heading back. Well at least she thought it was about four months since the events in Highgate, it sometimes became difficult to keep track of the days. And of course she was heading back to Highgate itself, the town that was now crater in the ground.
After being separated from her fellow Highgate survivors she’d followed her original plan and headed across state to find what had become of her family. Her house had been empty; the place had shown evidence of looting but not of tragedy. She’d taken a family picture and some of her own clothes, enjoying the familiar environment. Then she set out again.
It had been easier getting home. Fuel was still easy to come by and the infection had only just begun. Now travelling was hard and dangerous, and not just because of the infected but because of people. Survivors could be desperate and ruthless. Some thrived in the anarchy left in the wake of the infected decimation. Some created their own fortified and defended safe communities. Others stayed on the move. There were travelling bands that fought constantly against the infected, or packs that attacked weaker groups for supplies.

Natalie heard the heard the bikes coming and deciding they weren’t dismissed her initial thought to hide. She pulled the Glock out with her left hand, which felt a little unnatural still, clicked off the safety and held it close to her side facing the ground. She unhooked the crowbar from her rucksack and continued walking down the middle of the in the direction she’d been headed.
The noise was amazing close up. Several screamed past her blasting horns and driving close enough that that she’d barely need to reach out to touch them.
Eventually one of the bikers cut across the front of her and braked. Natalie stopped and gave him blank-face defiantly. He smiled and it was an expression that was very male and hungry in a way that made her shiver. His smile grew. A couple more stopped beside him.
“No Angus,” said one of the newer arrivals, a large older man with dark blond hair.
“You claiming her?” asked the first with a snarl.
“I’m defending her.”
The first huffed and revved his engine taking off after the others.
A woman rested her chin on the shoulder of the third biker, “Don’t worry, honey. He can’t touch you now. And Henry here won’t try anything.” She gave a sad sort of smile as she looked towards the dark blond.
So she’d ridden with Henry and the gang, and they’d been good to their word. Despite what she’d expected the most fearsome hadn’t been the gang of bikers. Well-armed and clad in their leather leathers they had been an intimidating sight. But they travelled with their family and wore several different patches, united in their survival.

“You look like his daughter did,” Kate whispered in Natalie’s ear as they hugged. She was the female biker she’d met their first day, weeks ago. Natalie looked at Henry whose expression was solemn as she said her goodbyes. Everyone was looking for family, even those with no family left to find. She went to him and he held out the gloves. She took them and caught by surprise when she hugged him.

In the end they'd parted ways, following their own paths. Natalie looked down at her fingerless leather gloves. Her hands had been getting pretty worn out from using her crowbar and mad scrambles up the sides of buildings; the gloves protected her hands. The bikers hadn’t been really been scary.

Scarier were the children. She’d encountered a group of kids, the oldest and sixteen year old boy who ruled as king. All had either lost their parents to the infected or the infection itself or simply been separated in the panic. Quite a number had killed their parents themselves after mummy and daddy had tried to eat them. They had their dad’s hunting rifles or the kitchen knives or there baseball bats, they were pitiless and to reason with. Their king ruled with violence, having killed the last kid who was leader. A young girl had been constantly by his side; she had been fifteen maybe hopefully older because she had held her hands to her flat belly protectively.

So some she’d stayed with a while and others she’d avoided, but she always learnt what she could, collected what supplies she could, and kept an ear out for word of her family. That’s how she’d heard about the other Highgate survivors.

So now she travelled east again.