Daniel didn’t realize he’d dozed off until a radio crackled in his ear - Radley was standing next to him, the CB strapped to his hip rambling away in an eldritch thing of whispered words and static. Slowly, Daniel straightened up, steadying himself against the van’s near constant rocking as it rolled down the road. One hand went to his gun. “What is that?”
Radley blew air through clenched teeth. “Walkers. It’s gibberish, but it’s pretty unsettling.”
Now awake, Daniel could pick through the static to confirm Radley’s reply. Most of the chatter made no sense at all; only here and there could Daniel pick out real words. “Where would walkers get a radio?”
“If a radio spikes it gets pretty loud. If it goes off in the wrong place at the wrong time, well.” A ghoulish sound left Radley’s mouth, one painted finger drawing sharply across his throat. It only took a moment for Daniel’s imagination to fill in the gaps.
Swallowing the lump in his throat, Daniel leaned forward to look out a window. There was nothing but the night out there, plunging in every direction, soaking to black among the trees. They’d cut the headlights to avoid drawing attention, and eventually, their eyes adjusted. It was easiest to go out on a full moon.
But something about traveling beneath one left stupid, superstitious jitters with all of them. KEEP READING.
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