"Attention, all vehicles, please form an orderly queue. Medical personnel will conduct inspections. Any refusal to cooperate with lawful duties will be severely punished."
The night sky was vast, and the moonlight bathed the interstate in a silvery glow. Cars on the road turned on their headlights, and soldiers on the barrier wall switched on their searchlights, sweeping the dark corners to prevent anyone from sneaking into the city under the cover of night.
"Once you're inside, what are your plans?" Osborne, leaning back in the driver's seat with a yawn, asked Brian what he intended to do next.
Interstate 35 was the fastest route from the southern region to Dallas. Before they arrived, the road was already packed with cars. The slow, painstaking process of checking each vehicle at the entrance meant that even after waiting for nearly nine hours since noon, they had barely reached the barrier.
Behind them, more and more cars kept arriving from all directions. The line of vehicles stretched as far as the eye could see, seemingly unchanged despite the long wait. Yet, despite the long wait, no one in the cars honked their horns. Everyone was willing to wait patiently, hoping to get into the city.
Brian gazed out at the night, thinking for a moment, then said softly, "When we were in Austin, we met an old man named Arman. He invited us to come to Dallas with him, but we had to look for Sarah's family, so we didn't go with him..."
He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. "But he gave us his address. I thought I'd try to find him, see what he knows about the situation inside. Then we can figure out how to get to Washington to find my parents."
After sharing his plan, Brian asked, "What about you guys? Do you have a place to go once you're in?"
"Not yet," Osborne shook his head with a sigh. "I'll contact my old buddies first, report what happened in Austin. Don't worry about me. Worst comes to worst, I've got this RV."
Brian nodded and didn't say anything more. As the vehicle in front of them finished its inspection, he turned and clapped his hands inside the RV. "Ladies, we're up next. Get ready."
The RV slowly pulled up to the checkpoint. A soldier in a protective suit walked over to the window, knocked twice, and gestured for the window to be rolled down. As the window lowered, the soldier looked inside and was taken aback. There was a middle-aged man and three kids. For some reason, his expression softened, and he said kindly, "Sir, please step out of the vehicle. We need to inspect you and the vehicle."
"Sure," Osborne replied.
Once the four of them stood by the RV, Brian saw a soldier holding a rectangular device walk over. It had a cylindrical part on top, which he knew was the "infection scanner." Two other soldiers got into their vehicle to search for anyone who might be hiding inside.
The soldier with the scanner moved behind the group, placed the cylindrical end on the back of their necks, and pressed the button. With each scan, the device beeped twice and announced that the person was not infected.
After confirming that everyone was clear, another soldier with a logbook asked them detailed questions about their names, ages, previous addresses, relationships, and whether they had any family in the city.
After ten minutes of this, the soldier finally let them through, radioing the control booth to open the barrier and let them into Dallas.
The military wasn't about to let newly arrived survivors wander around the city unchecked. When the RV reached the designated area, a soldier in a small car drove in front of them, waving for them to follow.
Dallas wasn't as good as it looked from the outside. In open areas like parks, there were rows upon rows of tents. Even from inside the vehicle, they could hear the sounds of sorrowful crying. After driving for nearly half an hour, it was clear that with fewer places to house survivors and more people arriving, Dallas would soon be at capacity.
The guiding car led them to an abandoned factory. The large, open area was divided in half by a barbed-wire fence. The left side was filled with tents, while the right side was reserved for RVs, with white lines marking spots for each one.
"Strange, why are there so many RVs here?" Brian wondered aloud.
"There's nothing strange about it. Regular cars are just cars, but our RV is home," Osborne explained. "What can you expect in a country that prides itself on democracy and freedom?"
After parking the RV in the designated spot, the guiding soldier got out, handed Osborne a pamphlet and four ID cards, and said, "These are what you'll need to get supplies. Dallas is under martial law right now. There's a curfew at 8 p.m., and there are many other rules listed here. Remember, don't cause any trouble."
With that, the soldier turned and drove away.
"Hey, I've got new neighbors!" As soon as the soldier left, the owner of the neighboring RV stepped out. He was a disheveled old man, holding an empty bottle of booze. He plopped down on a nearby chair and waved at Brian and the others.
"What's he doing?" Kelly asked her dad, puzzled by Brian's sudden interaction with the stranger.
"Oh, he's gathering intel," Osborne replied, ruffling his daughter's hair. "Alright, let's get some sleep. We've got other things to worry about tomorrow."
Sarah, however, didn't follow them into the RV. Instead, she sat on the step, quietly watching Brian's profile.
The old man guzzled the bottle of booze Brian had given him. Suddenly, the kid seemed pretty likable, and he answered every question Brian had.
"The army distributes supplies in the central district at 9 a.m. every day, but keep an eye on your ration card. Those soldiers only recognize the card, not the person. And always bring a gun when you go to collect supplies; otherwise, they'll be stolen..."
"There are protests here, but let me tell you, don't join them. It's a foolish thing to do..."
"Your place should be in the North District. It's not far from here. Just turn right when you get out and keep going straight, and you'll find it..."
"I don't know how to get out of here, but let me tell you, don't bother. Don't believe what those people on TV say about the infection being under control. It's chaos out there... How do I know? Heh, I came from the west. What don't I know? But it's the same everywhere!"
The old man didn't know much, but whatever he did know, he explained in great detail.
After learning the general situation in Dallas, Brian helped the old man, Antoine, back into his RV.
"Hey, Sarah!" Brian turned to go back into the RV but noticed Sarah staring at him from the doorway. "What's up?"
"Ah, nothing!" Sarah quickly snapped out of it, her face turning a little red. She quickly covered it up and asked, "So, did you get any important info?"
"Not really. I think we might be stuck here for a while," Brian replied, looking troubled. His earlier suspicions were confirmed; the pandemic was getting out of control, which meant other places wouldn't be safe either. He was hesitant about whether it was worth risking leaving.
"What do we do next?" Sarah's heart, for some reason, felt a little relieved at the thought of not leaving. She had lost her family and didn't want Brian to risk going out there, but she knew he had to find his own family. So she kept these thoughts to herself, knowing she would follow him wherever he went.
"Let's sleep on it. We'll look for Arman tomorrow and see what he says," Brian sighed, checking the time. He took Sarah's hand and led her into the RV. No matter what, they would have to wait until tomorrow to make any decisions.