The next morning flew by in a rush. I had finished most of the packing the previous day, so that wasn't so much the issue. We both were reluctant to leave our safe haven. Being on the road meant being out in the open and who knows what was out there. I pulled the couch away from the door and fresh air swept through the musty room.

By the time we were done, the car's trunk and back seat were crammed full. We looked like we were living in our car, which I suppose was the case. I always thought I would be destitute after finishing school with all my loans, but I never pictured it like this.

"Bailey!"

I turned to face Chloe, who was pointing at an infected that had decided to wish us farewell. I picked up my axe and started towards it.

"Get in the car!"

I didn't bother to look back, instead keeping my eyes on the creature in front of me. It was an old lady once, her purple suit stained with blood. It snapped its teeth and made a low rasping sound as I approached.

"What? No goodbye?" It took me a minute to realize I had said that out loud.

I raised the axe and brought it down square in the middle of the things forehead. It dropped like a sack of potatoes and I yanked my axe free. I had raided the houses nearby too for supplies and if I had to guess, this one was a resident of the teapot wallpaper house. But I must have missed her when I did my earlier sweep. I wiped my axe off on the overgrown lawn and went back to the car. Chloe had gotten in the passenger's side. I slid into the drivers and started the Mazda.

"You ready?"

Chloe nodded and I reversed out of the driveway, taking one last look at our temporary home. We were followed out of town by investigating infected drawn by the noise. The mob behind us almost made me feel like I was being run out of town. All they needed were torches and pitchforks. A short laugh escaped my lips and Chloe sent me a questioning glance.

"You have the maps?" I asked, more as a way to distract her attention.

She held them up, "Yep."

Chloe unfolded the Louisiana one that I had planned our route on. Using what John and Taylor had taught me about reading maps, I figured that we would get the majority of our interstate driving done today, landing one town away from New Orleans outskirts. Gas was precious, so I couldn't speed excessively, keeping the odometer at fifty miles per hour. Strangely, that speed felt relatively fast, I guess anything would when you weren't driving alongside other vehicles.

I had forged a circle on the area of the laminated map where I guessed John's shop to be. All I needed to find was the Brookshire grocery store we had raided that first time and I could backtrack from there.

The interstate was barren; any vehicles on the road were unmoving and looked long abandoned. There were a few infected that had managed to get themselves onto the highway, but we easily avoided them. It was around any turnoff that the road started to become congested and I had to carefully maneuver around parked vehicles.

As we inched past a blockade of left behind cars, an infected threw itself at the passenger's side door and Chloe screamed. I reared the Mazda to the right and squished the infected against the car it had popped out of. A nasty crunching sound, like cracking all your knuckles at once, echoed into the cabin of the car. Chloe's window had become a mess and I had to pull over once we were on another clear stretch of asphalt.

I took out a handful of napkins I had found and got out of the car. We couldn't afford for my vision to be impeded. The side of the car was scratched up from my defensive driving, the red primer showing in spots. I hope John wasn't too attached to this paint job. I threw the messy wad of napkins on the ground before entering the car again.

"That was gross." Chloe pulled a face.

"I agree."

I was about to hit the gas when my eyes landed on a marking along the interstate floor. I got back out to take a better look. In red spray paint, the image of a crudely drawn hand with an eye in the center looked back at me from the pavement. It reminded me of a pendent I saw once with the evil eye symbol, except this drawing was much more simplistic.

"What is that?"

I turned to see that Chloe had gotten out of the car and was staring at the graffiti.

"I have no idea. And stay in the car, please."

She looked at me and then back at the drawing one last time before she returned to the vehicle. Then I followed suit.

"Do you think that was supposed to be the hand of God?" Chloe asked.

"I'm not one for religion, but I don't think that symbol was from the Christian faith."

"What do you think it means?"

"The mark of the evil eye."

Chloe looked at me, like I had said something odd, "Isn't that a look you give someone?"

"I guess, but it's also a symbol." Not a good symbol to get, mind you.

"Why would someone draw that then?"

I sighed; it looked like I was in for another fun filled game of twenty questions.

"I don't know, maybe to ward off evil or maybe even curse people. I'm not from the south, but aren't some people here big into voodoo?"

I don't know why I was asking a nine year old about this, but Chloe knew some odd stuff for her age.

"Once Ethan let me go into a voodoo shop in downtown New Orleans, it smelt like smoke and stuff. They had dolls with pins in 'em and stuff in jars. The lady at the counter had no hair and spoke weird. Ethan said the place was a tourist trap."

I grinned at that. I could see Ethan trying to explain the store contents to Chloe so that it didn't frighten her.

"Well, he was right."

I drove right over the symbol as I continued on our journey. Chloe looked through the back window, "Drivin' over it was probably bad luck."

I didn't think my luck could turn anymore sour, so I just shrugged. Maybe it was a gang marking their territory, but there was no writing like, "Westside 4 Life," near it and didn't gangs usually like to identify themselves? It was a rather odd thing to have in the middle of the road, it was like whomever put it there, really wanted it to be seen.

The trip was taking longer than normal since I was trying to conserve gas by going slower. Every once in a while, the sloshing of the extra gas in the canisters would reach the cabin as if to remind me of why I was going so slow. We needed this gas to last as long as possible. I didn't have the body strength to break into the underground tanks at gas stations, so I would have to stick to syphoning gas from abandoned cars. I was getting really sick of the taste of gasoline.

"Why are you smilin'?" Chloe asked me.

I hadn't even realized I was. "I was just thinking of our supply run a while ago. I said something snarky to Taylor about sucking on hoses."

"I don't get it."

"And you won't for a few years either."

She crossed her arms and made a 'hmph' sound. My thoughts soon drifted towards Taylor. His final resting place had been the cabin. Would we ever be able to return to his grave? We had not always seen eye to eye, but I would like to be able to pay my respects and I know John would not just leave the grave to be lost.

If he was still alive.

I tried to push the thought from my head. I wanted to believe they were all alive, that they had survived the cabin being overrun. They just... had to be alive. I mean I lived and managed to get Chloe out too, so they must be fine. They were a hell of a lot more qualified than I was.

"Look."

The turnoff sign for Gretna loomed from the side of the interstate. The steadily declining sun was reflecting off of the metal sign, like a glass shard on a beach. This would be our stop for the night. There was no point in crossing the river and getting caught up in the city when the daylight was starting to fade, we would be dead in the water.

As I went to take the turnoff, a dark figure flew out from seemingly nowhere to block my path. I had to slam on my brakes and we were jerked against the seatbelts. Well, that was one way to get yourself run over. When I looked up, I could see that it was a man dressed in all black. He didn't have his weapon drawn, but I could see an automatic rifle resting in his left hand.

"Please turn off the car," the man yelled, still blocking my path. He was close enough that I could hear him even with the window rolled up.

I was having flashbacks to when we first ran into Riley's gang at the police station and I was not appreciating the reminder. I briefly contemplated running the guy down, but the car clearance was too low and this was a live body, not a dead one. All I would do is mess up the front end.

I looked over to see Chloe staring wide-eyed at the man, her little hands gripping the dashboard so hard her knuckles were white.

"Whatever happens, do not get out of the car," I instructed Chloe. "Nod so I know you heard me."

She gave me a nearly unperceivable nod. My hand reached for the handgun in my bag and I shoved it into my waistband right before I got out of the car.

"Some reason you're playing border patrol?" I asked, having to clear my throat a couple of times.

"Yeah, we got people in town and we need to monitor who comes and goes." He wasn't drawing his weapon, but his stance seemed aggressive.

"Fair enough, but it's a free country, pal."

"Not anymore. We can give you refuge if you submit to a person and belongings search beforehand."

"Just you?"

He bristled at my comment, "Not just me."

He whistled loudly and after a few seconds, two more bodies appeared from further down the turnoff ramp. It was another man dressed in black and a woman. Now that I got a closer look, I could see that they were wearing black Kevlar vests. I didn't think that was necessary, I wasn't that unhinged. Maybe they had been attacked before for them to take such precautions.

"Are the bullet proof vests really necessary?" I was being rather antagonizing; maybe I should tone it down.

"There are a lot of dangerous people out there and some want what we have made for ourselves." My guess that the one was a female turned out to be correct, as the voice was distinctly high pitched.

"Alright, I'll submit to a search, but if you try to help yourselves to our stuff-"

"We're not bandits," the man cut me off.

"I want to see your faces too." I was playing a bold card.

They all had on something to obscure their faces like bandanas or giant sunglasses. The man looked back at the others and the female shrugged and pulled down the cloth covering half of her face. The others copied her actions and three regular faces stared back at me. The main man had dark skin, his age showing in the lines marring his forehead. He must have been in his late thirties or early forties and worked a good portion of his life outside, judging from the roughness of his skin. The other two looked like generic office workers that you would see at the post office or bank.

"Happy?" the jaywalker asked.

"Not the word I would use," I muttered.

"You have a kid in there?" the woman asked, peeking into the car.

Her accent was distinctly Eastern European. Her hair was once blond, the old die sinking further down on her straight hair and the brown natural color taking over. Dying your hair became the least of your worries now-a-days.

"Yes, and I would appreciate you putting away your weapons so you don't scare her any more than you already have."

A flash of guilt passed over her face and she set down her weapon, as did the others.

"I'll check the car." The woman walked passed me and I took a step towards the vehicle.

"You stay here," the main guy walked up to me and started to pat me down.

He easily found the gun and pulled it from my waistband.

"I thought you weren't bandits?" I raised an eyebrow.

"You'll be getting this back, don't worry. For now, we're going to hold onto this."

He confiscated my gun and deemed me clear. I looked back to see the woman gently coaxing Chloe out of the car. These guys didn't give off a dangerous vibe, just a scared one. Like they had been screwed over one too many times and now won't trust that easily again, kind of like a rescue animal. Chloe looked at me and I jerked my head, telling her to come to me. She got out and shot the lady a venomous look, running over to me. She stuck her little hand in mine and stayed close to my side.

"Hello there, what's your name?" asked the man who confiscated my gun.

"What's yours?" Chloe countered and I grinned.

The man smirked, "Roy. And this is Tim and that lady you met was Karla."

Roy extended a hand to me, and after a beat, I took it. "Bailey and this one is Chloe."

"Nice to meet you two. As you can see, we have some tight security, but it's for a good reason. Would you like to meet the rest of our camp?" Roy asked politely.

I guess having a kid around had its benefits; people tried to be on their best behavior around them.

"Did you guys take over the whole town?" I asked, genuinely curious as to how they did that.

"No, but you'll see for yourself. We have a truck at the bottom of the ramp. Grab your car and follow us."