by Mary Martel
Agreeing with the ramblings going on in my thoughts, his dark-haired brother, Gideon, suggests, "We have to get him the antibiotics, or he's going to die."
The sheer panic in his voice takes me back to the very first day, having to listen to my sister die feet away from me. My heart drops to my stomach as I realize that I'm signing up to go before I even make the decision. Who would have ever thought...little book nerd solo survivalist putting their name first on the list to potentially die? Stupid shit, really. This is why I said I didn't want to get involved.
Graham ushers us out of the room, shutting the door behind him. The three of us lead the strangers into the usual meeting spot around the table, and he waits until we've all taken a seat before he starts talking.
"I don't have the right medicine to treat..." he starts, then looks to Gideon, "John, right?"
At the man’s nod, he adds, "I think we all know what will happen if we don't get those pills."
Sam, Dex, and Russ have moved to stand in the space between the kitchen and living room to listen, but it's Kemp's words that give us all pause.
"People die everyday, doc. It's the world we live in now. We don't know these people, so why should we stick our own necks out for them?" he asks harshly.
I can't say I don't agree with him at least halfway, but I'm not looking at him when he says them. No, it's the faces of the two strangers in front of me I see. The blond wearing an expression of outrage, while his dark-haired counterpart shows utter defeat. Internally, I groan at the pitiful state of my sympathy for them. After so long of kicking ass and chopping the stinking corpses to bits, I never thought I'd risk being eaten by one all to wash away that look on Gideon's face. There's something else we all need to take into consideration too, and Sam beats me to the punch by airing it out there.
"How do we know this isn't some setup?" he demands. "This entire thing could be a fucking sham to draw us out into the open. How do we even know that's his brother lying up there and not some member of their cult being sacrificed for the greater good?"
Eyes turn to Noble who stands rubbing his chin. More than one set turns to the strangers, mine included, waiting to see if they'll defend themselves. It doesn't take but one intake of air in blondie's lungs.
"You guys are just as sick in the fucking head as the asshole we just left if you think we'd risk a life for something as stupid as some shit like that," he rants, voice rising to the occasion and bristling Kemp's metaphorical fur.
Before either can jump into battle, Gideon stops them. In his voice, there's more defeat and exhaustion than what he wears on his face. "John is my true blood brother. We've both still got our wallets and IDs if you want to check them. We're only sitting here because of him, so I don't care what I have to do to prove ourselves. I'd sell my soul to the devil to keep him alive. Please help us."
First appearances have never been so deceiving in my life. Gideon was the one to strike Joseph. The tattoos running from fingertips to god only knows where added to the piercings makes him look like a man capable of violence. More so than his lighter partner. To hear this man practically on his knees begging us to save his brother's life breaks something in me.
Flicking my gaze to Noble, I can see the same emotions weighing him down, and it makes me wonder who he lost when shit hit the fan. A question saved for later when we don't have so much going on around us.
Sweet Dex is the first to step up to the plate. "I'll go."
Turning my eyes in his direction, I catch the short smile he sends me before nodding to Noble. It's a given the big man is going as much as it is for the doc to stay. Both Sam, Kemp, and blondie volunteer to go too. My choice is taken from me the moment Kemp decides to leave. There's no way in hell I'm leaving some of our weaker people to defend themselves. The wild man knows it too because he flashes me a pearly white shit eating grin. Fucker. I still owe him that swim.
"Okay," Noble announces, "Kemp, Sam, Dex, Colten, and myself will all be going into town. Quick stop to the pharmacy and that's it. There and back. No other stops. No bullshitting or fucking off. We pick up what we need and come straight home. And we stay together."
The last is directed toward blondie who shrugs as if he doesn't mind the rules.
"You've got to leave immediately," Graham warns. "If he goes into septic shock, there may not be anything I can do for him at all."
It's not the way Noble normally runs, but even he can't argue. I just hope we aren't going to regret this rash decision.
Colten
The way these people decide things and work as a unit reminds me a lot of a family. Not a lot of that going around these days. I didn't really know what that truly meant until I hooked up with Gideon and John. Growing up as a troublemaker in the system, I got tossed from home to home until they said fuck it and threw me in a group home at twelve. At that point, I spent more time running from the cops trying to drag me back than I did in the actual place. Eventually, they gave up, and so did I. Having to steal for food and clothes and shit, I was the furthest thing from an upstanding citizen as I could possibly be. That's when I met John. He reached out in one of my darkest times and saved me from the hole I’d found myself burrowing into. He offered me a place to stay with him and his brother Gideon as long as I cleaned up and got a job. Things had been turning around for me, even had a date set for the Friday after the city turned on itself. Needless to say, that never happened. After everything and surviving the cannibalistic nightmares of what once were friendly faces, at least we still had each other.
Falling in with that shithead gang was an accident, and we'd tried to leave from the first day. It's just hard for people who aren't in our shoes to understand. Once they say you belong to them, they fucking OWN you. We had to sit back and watch as others tried to leave, and it didn't end as well as our escape did. The one that'll stick with me longer than any of the others is the man whose old lady was being raped by the head honchos. He'd tried to sneak off in the middle of the night to save her. In the end, it got both of them killed. They beat him to a bloody pulp then waited until he was conscious again to make him watch as they took her over and over for more hours than should’ve been humanly possible. Once they were done, she got a bullet to the back of the head before they beat him again, and he ate his own bullet. They'd made everyone watch as an example of what would happen if we disobeyed and tried to leave.
I'm a fucking coward for not stepping in to do something or try to stop them, and I'll live with that the rest of my life. Then again, they'd have punished John and Gideon with me, so I can't say I wouldn't do the same thing all over again. These dark memories carry me out the door of this little safe cabin they've got set up, their home, and into the quiet cab of a nice ride. Silence from all of them is a luxury within itself. Less talking from them means less I have to do.
That façade is shattered as the crazy-looking dude with the crossbow spins in his seat to face us in the second row. "Whatever happens out here, make no mistake, I have no reservations about killing you. So don't give me a reason to."
The bald leader's eyes meet mine in the mirror, and I shrug. Hadn't planned to, but the savage in me makes me want to challenge his attitude. Grinding my teeth to keep my mouth shut, I stare out the same window as the pissed off dude to my right, but not before I catch the hoodie-wearing one on my left shaking his head at his friend. Whatever. If it was just me I had to worry about, this drive would be ending completely differently. Unfortunately, I've got John on one shoulder and Gideon on the other, which means none of the usual stupid shit. I can almost hear John whispering the words in my head.
Trying to calm the raging inferno the bow-toting redneck sparked to life, I think about their woman. That's right, dickhead, sit up there in your holier than thou bubble while I summon some ideas to jerk off to later. Blurred landscapes pass us by as a flash of that tight ass of hers in those jeans makes me start going stiff in mine. Crazy bitch took us down with some ninja swords in the woods and I'll be damned if that d
idn't make me want to throw her down in the leaves until she cried out my name. Consensually, of course. I'm not a sick fuck like the gang. Given the proper amount of time to get to know each other, I guarantee I could make her forget whichever of these dudes she's with and have her screaming under me. My only competition might be the crazy one in the front seat they called Kemp. He seems like the possessive type.
I blame my overly perverted thoughts on the fact that I haven't had sex in what feels like fucking ages. In the before, I took that shit for granted. Living on the streets has many drawbacks, but the amount of girls lined up to jump on my cock was no different either way. Terrance and his douchebag followers probably hadn't been laid years before this mess. It's almost no wonder they've become what they have. Pussy withdrawal is an actual thing. Probably even once a diagnosed thing. Fuck knows they diagnosed everything else.
Man, I might as well be a dog with no bark. That chick obviously belongs to one of these dudes. I might talk shit to start trouble, but I'm not about to be breaking up their family. Will I be thinking about her later with my palm riding my dick just as a small ‘fuck you’ to the dude in the front? Oh yeah. I'll tell him too if he wants to keep pushing. Might even give him front row seats. Wouldn't be the first time a dude's watched me jack off. One of those things I never thought I'd find myself thinking, but not much comes as a surprise anymore when you've lived on the streets and had to do some deplorable things to survive.
Once the scenery starts going from the tree-lined street to houses casually spaced out, I decide it's best to start paying attention. These guys know where they're going, but I know where Terrance had the sentries posted last.
"Avoid the main street," I warn Noble. Kemp side eyes me like I just told him I fucked his mom, but the other guy listens. The vehicle slows down to a crawl before he parks it off a side road behind a crop of bushes.
Killing the engine, he spins in his seat, asking, "Are there lookouts in town?"
I nod. "Yeah. I don't know if they're still in the same spots, but I can tell you where they were."
"Do they normally change locations?" the hoodie-wearing dude asks.
Shrugging, I admit, "Normally, no, but Terrance is unpredictable when people piss him off. And trust me when I say, our leaving has him hotter than Hell."
Guy on my right snorts angrily like he can't believe he's doing this. Well, guess what, bucko, didn't ask you to and if it wasn't for the man who chose me for family dying right now, I'd be as far away from here as possible, never having set foot on your doorstep.
"Where?" Kemp demands.
Instead of jabbing an elbow in one of their temples like my temper wants me to do, I answer, "Top of the supermarket, above some old nail salon, and inside that bar across town. They're holed up at that school over that way."
Noble and Kemp dip their chins at each other in understanding before the doors are popped open, and we step out into the dying light. It almost feels like a bad omen to be trying this right at dark, but John can't wait ‘til morning. The four of them go around to the back of the Hummer. All of them are carrying various forms of weapons, but I didn't think they'd let me have one, being a stranger in their midst and all. Surprise hits me hard when Noble opens the back so that Kemp can reach in to grab an old wood-splitting ax. It's similar to the one their buddy was carrying out in the woods, but this one has tape wrapped around the bottom, making it an easier grip.
"That's mine, so don't lose it," Kemp tells me, forcing the words through his teeth. In reply, I simply heft the heavy as fuck thing up on my shoulder and shoot him a grin.
Seeing that I'm not immediately going to start chopping them up into pieces, Noble relaxes a bit. "Okay, listen. The pharmacy is on this side of town, so as long as we avoid the main streets, we should be able to avoid the lookouts. That'll mean taking some of the alleys. It's going to be dark soon, so stay together and watch each other's back."
I nod when the other three do, finding it easier than I thought it would be to follow his orders. I'd bet my left nut the man was military. Just like a few of the ringleaders in the gang, only less fucked in the head from it.
"In and out. Quick and quiet," he tells us before turning on his heel and taking off at a jog, using the shrubs for cover.
The other two are fast to fall in behind him as Kemp and I pull up the rear. Didn't think they'd leave me at their backs, and I can't say I'm completely confident with him at mine. But this is what you do for family. No matter how uncomfortable or dangerous, family is always more important.
By the time we make it to one of the side streets, darkness has started to claim the landscape around us, turning all the shadows into enemies. Noble stops and crouches, and we follow diligently as we scan the rooftops for movement. How fucking sad is it that we're all more worried about the living than the dead in the zombie apocalypse? Who's to say humanity didn't deserve this eradication?
Everything is quiet, and the only sound is the leaves rustling softly in the wind. I catch sight of one of the zombies down at the end of the street, but he's no cause for alarm. Stick to your end of the road, buddy, and we'll both live to see another day. Well...
I almost snicker at my own joke, but we're moving before I can. Noble is true to his word and keeps us between buildings as much as possible, only stopping to scope out the buildings on the new streets. Sooner than I thought, we're standing at the back entrance to the Rite Aid. There's a padlock on the outside, but Noble's big ass guns go to work with a crowbar one of the other's is carrying. He's got that sucker popped open in less than thirty seconds. The door opens with a loud screech that has us all cringing.
Spotting an old cement block against the wall, I move it to the corner of the door, stopping it from shutting after us with that squeal. Noble gives me a quick nod of thanks before he slips through the crack barely big enough for his shoulders to fit through. I take a deep breath and let it out as I follow the other two inside.
If the quiet outside was creepy, it's even worse in the store where there used to be humans wandering the aisles in search of shit they likely didn't need. Out in front, Noble flicks on a small light barely strong enough to light any of the space around us and Kemp does the same at my back. Must be some of that military bullshit that I can't say I'm complaining about at the moment. Better than walking this place in the dark. Some of the shelves still hold most of their contents like diapers and baby toys even if the food is gone. Who gets desperate enough to eat baby food? Fuck if I know. God fucking forbid someone be raising a baby in this shit hole of a world now. Other shelves look like they were hit by literal bombs. Mainly cold medicine and the like, which isn't a surprise. A backwoods town like this, at least one meth head probably survived. Judgmental of me? Maybe. Do I give shit? No.
Passing a couple shelves of vitamins, I grab a few of the men's smaller bottles to shove down in the pockets of my pants. I know Kemp saw it but doesn't comment. If I double back around and add some boxes of condoms to my pockets, I'm sure that'd get a rise out of him. Fortunately for everyone involved, I don't have a death wish today.
Our feet disturb small containers strewn across the floor as we come around the pharmacy counter. I accidentally kick one hard enough to send it flying across the small space, making the others turn and glare. I'd tell them I didn't mean to, but it's not like they'd believe me anyway so what's the point? I just shrug and bend down, using Kemp's light at my back to examine the labels on the bottles. I'm neither doctor nor pharmacist, so thank God theirs told us what to be on the lookout for.
I watch Noble pocket some of the shit off the floor, and I just imagine the list he received from the good doc is a little longer than the rest of ours. Though, I will say, a common item I notice missing more than anything else is pain killers. I've not seen the first bottle, which honestly doesn't come as all of that big of a surprise. Shit. Half the assholes that run the gang are addicted to one thing or another. Whether it's pills, booze, or sex. Sometimes they'll take it anyway they can
get it.
Noble snaps his fingers softly, drawing our attention to where he stands in the corner holding up a small white bottle in triumph. He shoves as many as he can grab in the pack he's carrying, adding the shit from his pockets. The other two are still looking through the shit on the floor, picking up a couple things here and there to add. It's important they take everything we might need now because if Terrance and his men have been through here, which it looks like they have, it won't be long before they come back for the rest.
We got the meds we came for, so I won't rush them on this. It's only a few extra minutes between us getting home to John. That's what I'm thinking as voices float in through a broken window from the front of the store. No time to even look at each other before both lights get shut off, leaving us in the pitch-black darkness. Back here where even the moonlight can't reach, the dark is creepy as fuck. Especially since we all know there's something to actually be afraid of that could hide in shadows.
As the voices move closer, I swear I can recognize them both. Other than Terrance, they're my two least favorites that could be approaching right now. Issak and Matthew. Two of the meanest sons of bitches in the gang who don't go anywhere without their little pet project. Roger or some stupid shit like that. Dude is fucking weird. Like killing things for fun, psychopath weird. And there's only one place they can be headed.
"We need to hide. Right now," I whisper urgently.
Trusting me with the call, Noble follows up my command with one of his own, "Move."
I turn to find Kemp standing guard on the other side of the counter, but we hit a new snag when one of the others toes one of the many bottles at our feet. It goes rolling across the floor, sounding as loud as a gunshot as the pills rotate inside. Shit. There's no way we're getting out from behind here without our lights or a shit ton of noise.
