Chapter 1: Sanctuary
The beat up Jeep Wrangler rumbled up the highway north as a wind blew through the dusty desert. The vehicle was a sad old thing that had seen more action than it was ever designed to see. Its red paint was chipped off in several areas exposing the shiny metal underneath and bullet holes riddled the driver’s side door and dented the right passenger side door coming out. Alex looked up at the skies. They were perpetually dark nowadays and she could never tell what time it was. The wind picked up suddenly and came through the open window to Alex’s left, blowing her long brown hair in front of her face. She moved her left hand from the steering wheel to push the stray strands aside from her blue eyes. She then focused her sight on the road before her. It was barren and the deserts around it were kicking up the beginnings of a dust storm. The skies were darkening even more than normal. She would have to find a place to stay soon enough or by the time morning rolled around her car would be completely buried with her in it. Thankfully, she knew where she was heading. And it wasn’t too far away now.
Alex rolled up the open driver’s side window but grimaced when the sand still managed to get in through a chunk that was missing in the top right corner. She recalled fondly that the window was shot up by some psycho a few days earlier over when she passed by what was left of Tucson. If that sonuvabitch aimed his shotgun a few inches more to the right, I’d be without a head, she thought to herself. A smile appeared from the corners of her lips. Those people down in the city weren’t too friendly, but then again they had reason not to be. It had been a year since the metropolis was overtaken by the infection and even now they still wandered the streets and buildings, shambling about and looking for their next prey. Time had not killed them so the 9mm she kept in her waistband served that purpose. In addition it served quite well for the human nuisances that also got in her way.
The storm was picking up now as Alex struggled to see through it, her eyes scanning the horizon thoroughly. Come on, she thought to herself, I know you’re here.
Then she saw it and a full smile broke out on her face. She’d heard rumors of it from other survivors she’d met over in Phoenix. But now they weren’t just rumors. They were true. The jewel of the desert and the home of those who still called themselves free and healthy. Kayenta.
The small town was just off of Highway 160 and far off in the distance she could see lights coming from the windows of the brick and concrete buildings. Surrounding the buildings were dozens, possibly even hundreds of tents that were lit up in the desert like lanterns on a lake. Safe at last.
After another half hour of driving she finally reached the main road and slowed down in front of a gate. She screeched to a halt and looked ahead. An aging man and a small boy were standing at the side of the entrance. Both of them were clad in plastic ponchos to protect them from the flying sand. They walked over to the driver’s side door of the car. The man held a pistol in his hand. The boy was holding a hunting rifle. Under his poncho hood Alex could see the boy was fatigued from the weight of the weapon in his small hands. She flashed them both a smile and received nothing in return.
“Where you coming from?” Asked the man.
She looked at them and answered coyly.
“Depends on whether you’re asking about just now or originally.”
“Start with just now.”
“I just got out of Tucson. The folks over there weren’t too happy about my presence.”
She gestured her head at the broken window that she was talking through. The old man shot a smile.
“Those city folk don’t trust no one.”
The man winked at her. His son smiled weakly. Alex reached into her left pocket. Lightning quick, both the man and the boy pointed their guns at her. The man spoke over the pistol he had aimed square at her face.
“Put your hands slowly on the dashboard, where I can see them.”
“Easy,” she replied calmly and slowly her hands surfaced. She put her right hand on the dashboard. In her left was half a Hershey bar still inside the wrapper. It was partially melted but still edible.
“Something for your boy,” She said calmly. The kid’s eyes lit up behind the scope of his hunting rifle. The man slowly lowered his pistol and grinned. The boy followed suit.
“Thank you, but my grandson here doesn’t take gifts from strangers.”
The boy frowned. The rifle drooped from the sling over his skinny shoulders.
“We all act different around here and it’ll take some time for you to get used to. But its kept us alive so don’t knock it.”
The man holstered his pistol and looked back at Alex. He had a kind look on his face.
“You’re good people, I’ll let you through. Report at the church immediately. Have a nice night in there. Come on, Johnny.”
The man walked back to the gate and his grandson followed up close behind. With some effort they lifted the steel gate up and Alex stepped on the gas pedal, slowly entering the town. As she passed by them she smiled and nodded her thanks.
The small village wasn’t quite the paradise the legends and rumors had described it to be. Small houses lined the sides of the roads, surrounded by makeshift cloth and plastic camping tents. Inside the tents Alex could see people sitting around glowing lanterns and flashlights, casting their shadows against the walls of their homes. Some of them were talking, others were eating and still others were making love behind the semi-privacy of their abodes. Through the darkness of the night and the haziness of the storm it looked like an ocean of light surrounded her. As she reached the end of the road a rifle toting man in a poncho signaled her to turn left. She followed his directions and drove toward a two story building at the center of town. At the top of the structure a bell tower stood. Looking around her she saw that there were cars parked everywhere. Upon a closer view she saw that entire families were packed inside each of them. As she approached children huddled closer to their parents inside their SUVs. All eyes in the area were on her beat up, bullet riddled car. The feeling of being watched made her uneasy but eventually she found a space to park at the side of the road and twisted the keys out of the ignition, stowing them away in her pocket. She pulled out the SIG P228 that she kept down the front of her torn jeans. She checked the chamber of the pistol and contemplated bringing it with her. Nah, she thought, they’ll probably search me when I go inside. She opened the glove compartment and put the gun inside; locking it to make sure no one would steal it. Taking a deep breath, Alex stepped out of the car and onto the street. The dust storm blazed on around her but besides for that there was an eerie silence in the town. She stopped at the door of the church and brought her fist to it, pausing and then knocking on the heavy, carved wooden slabs. After a few seconds the door swung open inward and a middle aged man clad in green cargo pants and a short sleeved collared shirt stood smiling at her.
“Ah, you must be the young lady Greg was talking about. My name’s Kyle. Come inside.”
Alex looked at him perplexedly. Then before she could ask, the sound of radio chatter came from behind the man. He reached behind him and pulled out a yellow walkie talkie.
“10-4, she’s right here. She’ll be down in a minute.”
Kyle looked up from the device and smiled at Alex.
“Well, no use in stalling. Follow me, we have introductions to do.”
He turned around and walked away. Looking down, Alex noticed that the man carried a CZ P-01 in the small of his back. Realizing that he was walking alone, Kyle turned around.
“Come on, I ain’t got all day.”
Alex nodded. She walked forward and headed down the candlelit stairs, the sound of her footsteps echoing against the stone walls.


