Hope and Undead Elvis - By Ian Thomas Healy Page 0,35

that's bothering me." Hope brushed her hair out of her face. In the indeterminate time they'd been on the road, it had gone from blonde to a dingy brownish gray color, and seemed only a night or two away from turning into dreadlocks. "If we stay safely behind whoever's setting travelers on fire, we're only going to find more ashes and more dead. No food, no clean water, no hope."

"So we pass them."

"That's probably going to be a lot harder than it sounds. To cause this kind of devastation, I bet there are quite a few of them." Hope gazed across the smoky landscape. "Normal fires aren't this thorough. I saw a few in Nevada. They jump around. They leave things untouched. Whoever is doing this is in love with fire."

"Mercy said they were called the Righteous Flame."

"Yeah, that sounds like someone with a real hard-on for burning." They crossed the last hill and saw The Way, untouched where Hope had parked it, much to her relief. "So if we do manage to get past them, they'll still be behind us, and what if they ever catch up?"

"What if they do?"

"You're doing it again, Elvis."

"Sorry, Li'l lady."

Hope climbed in behind the driver's seat and sat, staring off toward the smoky horizon. "We have to stop them. For good. But we can't stop them. We've only got three bullets and a car between us. And you, but only because you can't be killed."

"You're an asset as well."

Hope shook her head. "I'm no fighter. I'm actually scared shitless."

"I think you're very brave."

Hope looked at him. "No, I'm not, Elvis. You know why I didn't pull that trigger just now and eat a bullet? Because I was afraid. I'm afraid of dying. I'm afraid of the pain of death. And I'm afraid that with the way things are all screwed up in the world, that pain won't go away afterward. What if there's an afterlife? You think I want to spend it remembering I killed myself?"

Undead Elvis shrugged. "You're much braver and stronger than you realize, Li'l lady."

"You should see things from my point of view. You might think differently. I'm thinking we have to try to get past these Righteous Flame people. Maybe we can find help ahead on the road. Or if not, at least warn people that they're coming. Keep anyone else from being burned alive."

"Sounds like a good plan to me. Uh-huh."

"Let's see what we're up against. I guess if worst comes to worst, we turn around and run. Maybe we can clear that bridge a second time if we have to."

"Maybe."

"You don't sound convinced."

"I'm not."

"Well, I'm not either."

Hope let out the clutch and The Way rolled on down the road through the smoky air. One thing about the smoke, she reflected as she drove. It made for a gorgeous sunset. Brilliant oranges and reds filled the sky as the Sun dropped low behind them. But then the oranges became sulfurous yellow and the reds darkened to brown and she remembered that no matter what, it was still ugly.

She resisted the temptation to turn on the headlights as the sky blackened. A hazy half moon rose and gave her just enough light to see the road before her. The unsettling orange glow along the northern horizon spoke of a great wall of flame somewhere ahead.

Despite hours of driving, Hope didn't feel tired. Perhaps the idea of doing something instead of letting things happen to her had lit a fire beneath her ass. Bad metaphor, she thought, as she spotted a distant flicker of actual flame ahead. She slowed way down, not wanting to run into the middle of a group unprepared.

A few minutes later, she spotted a pair of vehicles ahead on the road and stopped The Way. "Come on," she said. "I want to get a closer look at these so-called Righteous Flame people."

The two trucks crawled forward at a walking speed, surrounded by pedestrians. First was, of all things, a fire truck with its lights sparkling red and blue counterpoint to the glare of the firewall. A single man stood on top of the engine on a makeshift platform and shouted at the walkers through a megaphone. Hope couldn't hear his words with any clarity, but from the way his cadences rose and fell, she suspected he was preaching.

A steady stream of exhausted-looking people trudged to the second vehicle, a ten-wheeled fuel truck. Each walker bore a tree branch or other flammable item. A crew on the