G Hopf: Driver 8: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel

“That’s true,” Kyle said.

“I can’t thank you enough. Your friend said you were the hero type, I guess he was right after all,” Candace said flanked by twenty-two women and girls.

“I’m not so sure about that. You’ve got enough vehicles and weapons?” Kyle asked.

“Yep, we’ll be fine. And you’re sure you know where you’re going?” she asked referring to the Generate encampment.

“Yeah, I know it’s not exact coordinates, but I’ll find it and hopefully, Portia.”

Unable to resist, she leaned in and gave him a hug, “I hope you find her and if you do, tell her Candy did her part.”

“I will,” he said touching Portia’s ring that now hung from a leather strap around his neck.

“If you ever find your way back here, you have a place to stay, I circled it on the map.”

“Sounds good. I’ll say goodbye then,” Kyle said and hastily walked away. He wasn’t a fan of farewells so he always tried to shorten their duration.

“Goodbye… Kyle Grant,” Candace said.

Portia sat up and opened her eyes. Around her was open desert. “Where are we?”

“You have been out for a long time,” Jacob said.

Portia rubbed her eyes and stretched. “This is so barren, dry. Are we in Arizona?”

“That’s what it used to be called, it’s now called Sinaloa. How nice they name their new country after themselves,” Jacob quipped.

“I’ve never seen the desert,” Portia said.

“Nothing here, makes for a boring drive but the bonus is we can go a hundred miles per hour,” Jacob said.

Portia leaned close to the windshield and gazed towards the southern horizon. “Is that blue sky?”

“A sliver, we get more glimpses of blue the further south we go.”

“I’ve seen it, just not all that much in Prime. I remember the sky was always blue when I was a kid, now it all seems like a dream, like the gray has been there forever.”

“I hear the sky is a deep blue in Paradise,” Jacob said.

“I can’t wait,” Portia said drawing her knees close to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

“Listen, when we get to Puerto Penasco, we won’t have much time to board the boat and leave,” Jacob warned.

“Why?”

“On the account I lied to our cartel contact.”

“What did you tell them?”

“They allowed the boat to dock in exchange for a large food shipment from The Collective that I’m sure we’re not going to get. Tommy, a Leviathan who was doing a job in The Collective, was bringing a truck load to us. I haven’t heard from him so I can only assume he’s dead.”

“Why don’t we wait?”

“It’s best to leave, get on the boat and set sail before the cartel knows we’ve lied.”

“Okay, whatever you say,” Portia said reaching up towards her neck to play with the locket that normally hung there. When she recalled it was lost, she sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“You look upset,” Jacob said.

“I had a locket from Kyle but it was stolen. I’m just sad that I don’t have anything of his except memories.”

“Be happy, that’s more than most have. At least you had a decent life.”

“The Collective was horrible,” Portia countered.

“I know that’s your perspective but look at the world you were almost sold off into. Whatever you dealt with paired in comparison.”

She thought about his comment and concluded he was right. “Sorry, I’m just being a baby, I miss Kyle and just wanted to have something of his, something tangible.”

“It’s just about perspective, that’s all, soon enough we’ll be on our way to a new home.”

“I’m excited,” Portia declared.

“Me too.”

Just when Kyle thought he was lost he saw thin wisps of black smoke rising from the adjacent ridge line. He looked at the map and determined it had to be the Generate camp.

Unable to take his truck, he parked it in a thick massing of tall shrubs. Like he’d always done, he disabled the truck by removing the battery and several spark plugs. He could never be too careful.

The hike to the camp was a haul, after first descending five hundred feet, he made that climb plus another three hundred by his estimates.

The distinct smell of burnt embers hit his nostrils telling him he was close. He made the last dozen feet and stood on top of the ridge. Below him a large clearly spread out and the obvious remains of a Generate camp lay before him. To his right huts and to his left lay huge heaps of charred blackened wood and ash. Between it all were bloated bodies. It was clear the Generates had been attacked and he could only assume it was Leviathan. He trudged to the huts and began to search, he turned over every female body he came upon until he reached the makeshift tables and grills used for their ceremonies. Flies and other insects swarmed over the burnt human remains that lay there. Unable to go further because of the putrid smell, he pulled out a handkerchief and tied it to his face.

From the remains there were at least seven or eight bodies that had been dismembered and cooked.

Was one of them Portia?

He thought. Putting aside his revulsion he went through the pile of limbs and torsos looking for something that would tell him she was among the dead. He started at the first table and moved left. As he headed to the last table his eye caught the glint of something in the tamped down grass. He picked it up and instantly recognized it as Portia’s locket. His legs began to feel weak and his stomach tightened. He fell to his knees and vomited. There was no doubt she was dead; and worse, murdered and consumed by savages. Deep sorrow overwhelmed him as he began to sob. He’d come so far only to find that the worst possible thing had happened to her. There would be no happy reunion, no, his life was forever changed. There was no amount of revenge that could temper the feeling of loss, but he’d try either way. He got to his feet, put the locket around his neck and headed back to his truck, an empty man but one with a new purpose; kill every Generate and slaver that crossed his path.

Upon seeing the expansive sea, Portia froze and stared in amazement. Having lived her entire life in the mountains the sight was beautiful and foreign, a feast for her eyes. The salty air filled her nostrils and washed over her face. Unable to resist, she removed her shoes and stepped out across the sand towards the water.

“You were serious when you said you’d never been anywhere other than The Collective,” Jacob said watching Portia walk towards the lapping water.

“It’s so beautiful. Is this the ocean?” she asked stepping into the warm water.

“Not technically, it’s the Sea of Cortez, or that’s what it used to be called.”

Her feet disappeared under the shifting sand and water. She wrapped her arms around herself and instantly thought of Kyle. Her heart ached knowing he was dead. If only he could be there with her to experience this.

“I know this seems nice, but where we’re going it’s a hundred times nicer,” Jacob said.

“Are you sure? How can such a place exist?” Portia asked her eyes still fixed on the horizon.

“That’s why they call it faith.”

She looked at Jacob over her shoulder and said, “I’m not sure I can thank you enough for saving me.”

“It’s what we do. Now come, the boat is ready,” Jacob said motioning towards forty foot sail boat tied to the side of the dock.

“I’ve never been on a boat before,” Portia said.

“It’s fun.”