Free The Great Wreck by Jack Stewart

something that would haunt
me for the rest of my life.
                On the
overpass that we had just gotten off of, I could see the people running west.
Then I saw someone jump on one of the people fleeing, then another, then
another. Then I saw a huge mass of people, bleeding, torn, torsos open, faces
half gone, arms gone, eating the
people who fell under the mass of those behind them. I shook my head. I wiped
my eyes and when I looked back again the scenes of carnage had been blocked by
the curve of the road. I couldn’t have seen that, right?   I must be hallucinating from seeing the army
crush those people back on the highway, right? Right?
                It
didn’t matter, I needed to focus on the road and get us up into the mountains
and to safety. So I kept my eyes on the road ahead of me and would not look
back until Grants was far behind us.
                The road
was completely empty of cars and people so I sped up to fifty and held it
there. I didn’t want to put the Bronco in the ditch or fly off a curve. If we
got stranded there was no one who was going to help us, so I kept the old girl
steady, my hands on the wheel, and my eyes on the road ahead of us. We soon
left all traces of Grants behind us as we entered the Taylor Wilderness and
into the foothills of the mountains. I slowed down even further as the grade of
the road became steeper taking the curves slowly and navigating the path as
though our lives depended on it. We soon came up on an overlook and I decided
we all needed a few minutes to get out of the Bronco. No one disagreed as I
pulled off onto the gravel turnout and we all piled out from the truck.
                Tony and
Greer walked arm in arm over to the highway rail and sat down heavily. Greer
was crying openly in great heaving sobs as Tony tried to comfort her. Dreysi
stayed in the car staring straight ahead saying nothing while Nicky and I
walked away from everyone and sat on the edge of the road.
                “What’s
happening, Casey?” she whispered as the tears slid down her face.
                “I don’t
know, Nick,” I said, “I think the infection has gotten out of control.”
                “But the
soldiers, why would they do that? What could scare them so much to make them
run? The infected? The panicked crowds?”
                I didn’t
have an answer so just shook my head and took Nicky’s hand, “We’re OK now.
We’ll get to the cabin and let this blow over. It will be all right.”
                I could
see that Nicky didn’t believe me. I didn’t even believe me. We sat there for
maybe twenty minutes looking over the steep canyons covered with pine trees
that stretched out below us and into the desert plains to the south. Thankfully
the ridge of mountains to our right blocked the view of Grants, but I could see
drifts of smoke high up in the sky and knew Grants was burning. After a while,
we all silently piled back into the truck and headed deeper into the mountains.
                A few
miles later we came to the first line of cars parked on each side of the road,
“What’s this?” I said to no one in particular as I slowed down and looked for
anyone who might step out in the middle of the road. Every type of car, truck,
SUV, camper, and trailer was parked front to back along both sides of the road.
We rolled by them looking in the windows for anyone who might be inside but saw
no one. Five miles later we came to the first major trailhead in the park.
                “What
did the guy at the gas station say?” Tony said, “Folks were heading into the
hills, right? This must be them.” I guessed he was right. We passed the parking
area of the trailhead a few minutes later and it too was crammed to overflowing
but not a soul was in sight. We moved on.
                A few
miles later we came across another line of cars, then another, and