The City

bright brake lights of the vehicle in front. Keeping a sensible distance between them the survivors watched as the transport drove around to the right and then to the left. Two hundred meters further down and the track narrowed and became even more rough and uneven. The sides of the road became steep banks, leaving Michael with no option but to keep moving forward and temporarily blocking their view of the soldiers ahead. The motorhome was not made for travelling over such harsh terrain. One of the front wheels sank down into a muddy pothole causing the vehicle to lurch to one side and its chassis to scrape along the ground momentarily.
    ‘Christ,’ Emma moaned. ‘This isn’t a good idea. As soon as we can we should get off this track and…’
    ‘We’re fine,’ Michael snapped, annoyed and trying hard to concentrate. ‘It doesn’t matter what happens to this thing. It’s not like we’ve got garage bills to pay or anything. As soon as we find where these soldiers are hiding out we can clear our stuff out and ditch it.’
    ‘I know but we don’t know how far away they are…’
    Emma let her words trail away. The banks on either side of the track quickly dropped down again as they drove through an area of woodland. Brittle branched trees suddenly surrounded the motorhome and the military transport ahead, reducing still further the already low light levels. The track curved and twisted in apparently random and unexpected directions. Still not prepared to use his headlamps, Michael was forced to slow down to almost walking pace.
    A random body smashed against the side of the motorhome.
    ‘Jesus Christ,’ cursed Emma as she stared at the figure in the side mirror. She watched as, in silhouette, it turned and stumbled after them.
    The transport disappeared from view momentarily. With relief Michael caught sight of it again as they emerged from the  small forested area. He steered through a narrow gateway and over a cattle-grid which shook and rattled the struggling machine. Once through the gate they were suddenly free to travel across an otherwise empty and featureless field. In the near distance the transport began to slow down. Michael gently eased off the accelerator as he began to catch up with the vehicle in front.
    ‘But there’s nothing here… he whispered.
    ‘There’s got to be.’
    The powerful military machine stopped. Concerned, Michael stopped too.
    ‘Shit,’ he cursed. ‘They’ve seen us. They must have seen us.’
    His heart began to pound in his chest as he stared at the motionless grey-green machine just ahead. His concentration was so intense that he failed to notice the three bodies which dragged themselves across the empty field and moved towards them. When he did finally catch sight of them he paid them little attention. They didn’t matter.
    ‘What’s going on?’ Emma asked, cold with nerves and afraid.
    ‘Don’t know. I think they might have……’
    Without warning the transport began to move again. With a sudden loud roar and a belch of dirty grey exhaust fumes it began to power forward with unexpected speed and force. It drove up and over a grassy ridge that had been unnoticeable in the low light, and then disappeared down a steep incline and out of sight.
    ‘That’s it,’ Michael said, forcing the motorhome forward again. ‘That’s got to be it.’
    He approached the ridge with dangerous speed and mounting trepidation. Both of the survivors knew the importance of the moment.
    ‘Careful,’ Emma hissed as the motorhome dipped to one side as one of the back wheels clattered through another deep pothole.
    Michael didn’t respond, fixing his concentration on following the soldiers instead. Not knowing what was on the other side of the ridge he accelerated hard again. With his heart in his mouth he pushed himself back in his seat as the front of their vehicle climbed up momentarily before dropping down into the darkness 234
    like a stomach-churning fairground ride. At first all he could see were the lights of the soldier’s vehicle. Seconds later they had gone, swallowed up by something unseen in the blackness.
    ‘Where did they go?’ asked Emma.
    ‘How the hell should I know?’ Michael shouted in reply. The velocity of the motorhome increased as they sped down the incline. He fumbled with the switches at the side of the steering wheel, trying desperately to turn on the lights whilst maintaining control of the vehicle. Seconds later and the ground levelled