The Left Series (Book 3): Left On The Brink (44 page)

I studied the map and looked at the top of Scotland towards the Highlands and remembered a TV show I’d watched some time ago about the remote villages and towns up there.

“There are plenty of islands up on the northern coast,” I said. “Maybe we should try heading toward there. There’s not much of a population up there. It’s going to be fucking cold but at least we won’t be overrun with zombies.”

Cordoba looked up at me with a sorrowful expression.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

I shook my head. “It’s not your fault,” I sighed, on the verge of tears myself.

“We can still go on that dinner date, eventually,” she whispered, with a smile on her face.

“I’m still looking forward to that,” I said.

Cordoba took a left turn at the entranceway and drove back along the road we’d traveled on. We took a left at the next roundabout with the intention of heading towards the Scottish Highlands, with its harsh environment but limited population. The snowstorm increased in intensity and Cordoba struggled to see through the windshield, slowing the bus to a crawl. Huge snowdrifts piled quickly at the edges of the road and the howling wind rocked the bus from side to side.

“Looks like the snowstorm followed us from Canada,” Cordoba said, with a little humor in her voice.

The gas warning light flashed red twenty minutes later. I glanced at the map once more and saw we were close to the city of Glasgow. I didn’t relish the prospect but realized we’d probably have to venture into the city to top up the gas tank and maybe hole up until the blizzard passed.

I put my idea forward to Cordoba, Milner and Smith and noticed the reluctance on their faces but they all agreed. We didn’t have much choice.

Cordoba followed the road signs for Glasgow and my mouth and throat went dry as I wondered what horrors awaited us inside that city. 

THE END