Dead South | Book 3 | Dead Hope

by Bohannon, Zach

  Jon heard people moving around the house, and soon the door opened. Lennox entered and stood in the doorway. He stared at Jon for a moment before telling the guards to get out of the house.

  The guards walked away, and Jon heard the door at the front of the house closing behind them. Lennox walked all the way into the room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

  “You comfortable?” Lennox asked.

  Jon scoffed. “Fuck you. Don’t come in here and act like you give a shit about how I’m feeling or if I’m comfortable.”

  Lennox paced, clenching his fists tight. “You don’t understand the position you’ve put me in here, Jon. We thought you were dead. Then, you walked back up in here after being infected by one of those dead things. What the hell else am I supposed to do besides lock you up?”

  “You could try listening. Did Raylon talk to you? Did he tell you what I told him?”

  Lennox nodded. “Yeah, he told me.”

  “Then, maybe you could try having a little faith. You act like it’s not possible I’m immune.”

  “I’ve got a daughter, man. You of all people should—“

  “Don’t you fucking dare use that against me.”

  Lennox sighed, shaking his head. “I just have to do what I’ve gotta do to protect the people here.”

  “And how are you gonna do that when that Malcolm asshole comes after you? You don’t think that time is coming?”

  “We have an agreement. And besides, you don’t know if he had anything to do with this. You don’t know anything about him.”

  “You’re right. I don’t. But you said yourself the guy is dangerous, and you didn’t even want to work with us because of what we did to the Vultures. Because you’re scared of him.”

  Lennox hesitated, and then went to the door. He slammed it shut before he turned back to Jon.

  “You don’t know a goddamned thing.”

  Jon stood up. “So, let me go. I’ll take my shit and I’ll go find my friends on my own. Hell, maybe I’ll go and get help from that ‘Mexican biker gang’ you don’t trust. But either way, I’m not going to live in fear, especially when I should already be dead.”

  Lennox took a few deep breaths. He reached down to his waist, where he had a gun inside a holster. Then, he looked up at Jon.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  Jon’s face tightened. “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t just let you go. You don’t understand the risk I’ve already put Freedom Ridge at, put my daughter at, by helping you.”

  “The way I remember it, you didn’t just help us. You guys had been looking at that prison for a while.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about, Jon.” Lennox exhaled.

  Jon looked at the gun on Lennox’s hip, waiting for him to draw it and shoot. But it didn’t happen. Instead, Lennox simply opened the door. He stood in the doorway for a moment, his hand still on the gun just in case Jon tried to make a move at him. Then, he turned around.

  “I’m sorry about what I have to do, Jon.” He shut the door, locking it behind him.

  Jon paced the room for several minutes, hearing the guards come back. Sweat dripped down his face. After the anger built, he kicked a hole in the wall before finally taking a seat on the floor again.

  23

  Brooke couldn’t stop thinking about her son. She was so thankful he was alive, but it wasn’t enough. The image of his face as the zombie came within only feet of him, ready to devour him, would be etched into her mind forever. And she knew that wherever he was now, he had to be terrified. She only hoped they hadn’t left him alone, and that he had others from Hope’s Dawn there with him.

  She regretted so much. For one, she wished she’d been at Hope’s Dawn when the attackers had come. She could have protected Lucas, and perhaps she’d be with him now. Maybe they’d even have found a way to escape before being taken captive. If she ever got out of here, Brooke promised herself she’d do a better job of being a mother. Assuming they could rebuild or find another community to live with, Brooke would spend less time on runs and more time with her son. She’d always felt guilty about the thought of not pulling her weight, but what about the guilt of not being a good mother and being there for her son? And if it was only going to be her and her son moving forward, so be it. They would find a place far away from here to settle and be together.

  When she got out of here—and it was a matter of when and not if—she vowed to do better.

  But getting out of this room, which had become a prison and her own personal hell, was another matter. The isolation in the darkness had begun to take its toll on Brooke. It was doomed to drive her mad eventually, and she could feel herself slowly unraveling into that state. When she was anxious, Brooke would often pace a room, but even that had been taken from her. She had no choice but to sit chained to the wall, barely able to stand. Everything on her body hurt, though nothing hurt worse than her soul.

  She wished she could sleep, but her anxiety wouldn’t allow that to happen. And she knew that if she did manage to fall asleep, all she’d dream about was Lucas’ face as he sat there helpless, thinking a zombie was going to eat him alive.

  A commotion sounded outside, startling Brooke. It heightened her senses, and she felt her heartbeat pick up its pace.

  The door swung open to show the figure of a man standing there. She could tell from how he stood and his stocky figure that it was Bennett, the burly man.

  He breathed heavily, and she heard him spitting. Clearly, from the way he’d thrown the door open, he wasn’t happy. He marched across the room and threw the curtains open, shining the sun’s bright light into the room. Then, he made his way over to Brooke. Reaching down, he picked her up by the collar of her shirt.

  Brooke shuddered, unsure what to think of the sudden violence. “What’re you doing?”

  Without hesitating, Bennett slapped Brooke across the face. She had never felt anything like it in her life, the impact feeling hard enough to have given her a concussion.

  If he hadn’t been holding onto her still, Brooke would have fallen to the ground. Her legs wanted to give out on her, but the strong man wouldn’t allow her to fall.

  “Don’t you say a goddamned word, you lying bitch.”

  Brooke’s brow furrowed. She almost questioned him for calling her a liar, but caught herself, which likely saved her another slap in the face—or perhaps something worse and more painful.

  “You’d better stop with that fucking face,” Bennett said. “You know exactly what you did, leading us on a goose chase.”

  Brooke’s lips parted, confusion racing through her head. “I—I don’t know—“

  The man hit her again with an open palm to the same cheek he’d struck before. Somehow, he’d hit her even harder this time. The tears came now from the pain, and Brooke feared for her life in a way she never had before. She wanted to beg for them to take care of her son, but worried what saying another word at that moment would do.

  “Well, you’re going to pay for the fucking lies you spat at us—that, I can assure you.”

  Brooke shook her head. She couldn’t understand what the man was saying. She hadn’t told him any lies. Everything she’d told them about the prison had been true. She thought back, trying to think if she’d left any important details out.

  Bennett cocked his head to the side. “You’re still confused? Well, let me enlighten you. That kitchen you led us to? We found zombies there, but they were all dead. And guess what? There was no sign of your boyfriend there. Nothing.”

  It took a moment for Bennett’s words to set in. She glanced at the ground, unable to find the words she was searching for.

  He could be alive.

  It was impossible. The last time she’d seen Jon, the demons had been about to swarm him. She couldn’t think of any conceivable way that he could have gotten away from them. And even if he had, there was no way he’d have been able to kill two dozen zombies with nothing but a hatchet and a bas
eball bat. They hadn’t left him with the ammo to shoot them. Of course, the people of Freedom Ridge might have gone against his wishes and gone back to help him. But even though Raylon didn’t understand why they had seemed pretty adamant about honoring what Brooke and Terrence had told them, she’d thought he’d trusted them.

  Bennett laughed as he backed away. She nearly hit the ground when he let go of her collar.

  “You shouldn’t have lied to us, you dumb bitch. But we’ll see if you ever do it again.” Bennett whistled.

  There was a noise outside, and two men came into the room dragging Terrence across the ground. He had a sock in his mouth, and his face was bruised from beatings.

  Behind him, two more men entered dragging Hugo. Brooke hadn’t yet seen him till now, and hadn’t even known he was alive. He’d been beaten just as badly as Terrence.

  The people placed both men in the middle of the room. They put them on their knees, forcing them to sit up straight even though it was clear both men were tired and in pain.

  Behind them, Bennett reached to his waist and retrieved a pistol. He assured himself it was loaded and clicked a round into the chamber. He looked at Brooke, and gestured with the gun to the two men in front of him.

  “Black or brown?” he asked.

  Brooke stared aimlessly at him, and then glanced back and forth between her two friends. It took a moment for what he was asking to settle in, but when it did, she could hardly breathe.

  “Choose,” Bennett said.

  “Please, don’t do this.”

  “You better fucking choose. Remember what happened the last time you didn’t listen to us?”

  Brooke looked back and forth between both of her friend’s faces. Both breathed heavily, their eyes wide. How was she supposed to choose who died? Especially when she hadn’t lied to begin with. She’d told the leader of these terrorists the entire truth. She’d expected them to find Jon’s lifeless body on the floor in the prison’s kitchen. Tears flowed freely from her eyes, and she shook her head. “Please.”

  “Fine,” Bennett said, shrugging. “I’ll choose.”

  “No!”

  Not taking his eyes off of Brooke, Bennett pointed the gun down to his right. He didn’t hesitate, pulling the trigger.

  Blood sprayed, some of it landing on Brooke as she screamed out.

  Hugo was dead before his body ever hit the floor.

  24

  Malcolm paced his room. Other than when he’d found out Judah had been killed, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this angry. Ever since the zombie virus had spread, leaving the world in a chaotic state, he’d remained several steps ahead of others. He’d founded Black Hill and established himself as more than just a leader to the people there. He believed they even saw him as something of a prophet.

  Through it all, he’d become accustomed to not only getting his way, but also being in control. The events that afternoon at the prison had shaken him. The woman lying had pissed him off, and beyond whatever Bennett was doing to her now, he was going to make her pay. He didn’t know what the new Vulture leader was doing to her, but it didn’t matter. The only restriction Malcolm had put on him was that he keep the woman alive and not harm any children. Other than that, Malcolm didn’t care. But he knew it was only the beginning for her.

  It still wasn’t enough, though; he wanted to find the Savage.

  The mere thought of the man set Malcolm off again, and he slammed his fists down on his desk. It shook the contents on top, even upsetting a little cup that held his pens.

  A knock came at the door as Malcolm stood, moving into the middle of the room and trying to calm himself. “Come in.”

  Bennett entered the room. Malcolm could relate to the man’s expression; he looked equally as frustrated, his lip curled. He had spots of blood on his cheeks and held a red-stained towel in his hands. Wiping his hands and arms with the towel, he next took it and ran it over his face to get the blood spots he’d missed.

  “Did you send her a message?” Malcolm asked.

  “You could say that. Whether she was lying to us before or not, she sure as fuck won’t now. If she does, you may as well let me kill her—because we won’t be getting anything out of her if she doesn’t tell us the truth from here on out.”

  “Good.”

  “So, what do you want to do next, boss? Dead or alive, our guy is still out there somewhere.”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  Malcolm had thought about this a lot since they’d failed to find the Savage at the prison. He knew there was a distinct possibility that the woman had been lying to them. That made Malcolm think the man was alive and that she was protecting him. Why else would she have lied and put herself, her son, and her friends at risk? But he knew above anything else that he needed to find the man and bring him to justice for what he’d done.

  One thing he knew was that most of the people they had captured from the camp were of no use to them. He wouldn’t kill the children, however. He had a soft spot for children, and had even talked with Judah about them having their own someday.

  “I think we’ve gotten everything we’re going to get out of the people we’ve kept alive,” Malcolm said. “They’re doing nothing at this point but eating our food and taking up space.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “I want to have a public execution. I think it’s time to remind the people of Black Hill what I’m capable of. To make sure they remember why it’s important not to cross me.”

  Bennett smiled. “Want me to make the arrangements?”

  Malcolm nodded. “Leave the women alone. They’ll be useful around here. We can find things for the kids to do, as well. Most of them are likely innocent in this situation, simply guilty by association with their ignorant parents.”

  “You want me to give the bitch the option?”

  Malcolm crossed his arms, placing one of his hands on his chin. The mere thought of Brooke disgusted him. If there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was a liar.

  “We’ll take fine care of her son for her,” Malcolm said. “She goes with the others.”

  “With pleasure,” Bennett said. “I’ll get started on it now.”

  Another knock came at the door before Bennett could leave. The door was already open, and Bryce entered.

  “Good, you’re both here,” he said.

  “What is it?” Malcolm asked.

  “We just got a message from Lennox. He wants to meet.” Bryce grinned, raising his eyebrows up and down a couple of times. “Says he has something we might want. Well, more specifically, he says he has someone we might want.”

  Malcolm and Bennett shared a glance. They both knew who it had to be.

  The Savage.

  “Set the time at the meeting spot,” Malcolm said. “And make it soon.”

  “On it,” Bryce said, leaving the room.

  “Put a hold on those arrangements,” Malcolm said. “It’ll still happen, but I want you with me for this meeting.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll go prep a vehicle now.”

  Malcolm was alone again, then. He hoped for Lennox’s sake that he had the Savage. Otherwise, things were going to get ugly fast.

  25

  Jon completed his third set of fifty squats, his legs beginning to scream at him. He refused to sit around the room doing nothing. It was essential to stay in shape, and being held captive in handcuffs was no excuse for getting lazy. After about a minute of rest, he hit the ground, assuming a push-up position again.

  The handcuffs forced him to hold his hands close together in a diamond shape. Throw on top of that the wound to his arm, and it all brought a new challenge to doing push-ups. His arm didn’t hurt as much as it had the previous day, but it still irritated him. Jon fought to avoid the pain while exercising. He had so much adrenaline flowing through him that it wasn’t difficult.

  The spike in adrenaline stemmed from his anger. Jon still had unanswered questions as to why he was there. It didn’t mak
e sense for Lennox to keep him a prisoner unless he was considering trusting Jon. Otherwise, why hadn’t he just let Jon go and told him not to come back? At this point, if Lennox came to Jon and decided that he’d made a mistake and wanted to help him, Jon wasn’t sure he would accept. How could he trust Lennox at this point? Jon had come clean about his bite. He’d told the truth about why he hadn’t said anything before or during the prison raid. He’d known that to do so would put not only Brooke’s life in danger, but the lives of others. More so, in his opinion, than if he’d told them he’d been bit and that he could turn into a zombie at any moment.

  Trust was something hard to earn from Jon South. Especially since the outbreak, he’d kept his guard up. It’d been part of why he’d kept his family away from survivor settlements and then remained a hermit after Carrie and Spencer had passed. The people of Hope’s Dawn had earned his trust, but he doubted—after how he’d been treated here—that it would happen again.

  So, he’d decided that when he saw either Lennox or Raylon again, he’d tell them to just let him go. It was clear the bond with Freedom Ridge was broken, and Jon would find his friends on his own. Once he found them, Jon thought it might be time for him to take Brooke and Lucas and leave the area. Perhaps they’d leave Tennessee altogether.

  He finished his push-ups and got to his knees, feeling the burn in his shoulders and catching his breath. A courtesy knock came at the door, and it opened. Raylon ordered the guards to leave before entering the room and shutting the door behind him.

  Jon continued to catch his breath as Raylon stood there and looked down at him. When nothing was said, Jon finally broke the silence.

  “If you’re not gonna get to the fucking point, then let me say mine.”

  “What is it?”

  Jon wiped the sweat from his brow with his bound hands as he stood up. “Just let me go. It’s clear this relationship is broken, so there’s no point in you keeping me here any longer.”