The Undead Survivor Series (Book 2): Undead and the City

by Radke, K. E.

  She stared at him directly in the eyes to make sure he understood what she meant.

  Lincoln chuckled, “Is that why you’re being so nice?”

  Whispering, she threatened, “Keep your voice down.” A smile slipped out from the serious expression on her face and she feigned annoyance adding, “Wake me up again like that and I’ll kill you. Try and play nice with the others or I’m telling your mother next time she’s awake. My nice attitude just expired.”

  Lincoln took one look at his mother and then crossed the hall and took the room offered to him. Instead of resting, he cracked the door open just enough to see the entrance to Gloria’s room, sat in a chair and waited.

  Half an hour later Heather showed up and inspected the area to make sure he was gone. She took tentative steps before racing inside to check on her patient.

  Instantly on his feet, he made it to the doorway at the same moment she was rounding the bed. Their eyes locked as she hesitated at the foot of the bed and glanced at his mother again as if to ask for help to deal with her unruly son.

  Just to be an asshole Lincoln leaned in the doorway, so she had nowhere to run. Her shoulders drooped just a bit before she stood up straight, looked him in the eye and said with a demanding tone, “Excuse me.”

  “You’re excused.”

  Confused by his answer she said, “I need to get by.”

  “No.”

  Flustered by his reply, a deep scarlet colored her cheeks and her voice came out strong and cold, “Do you get off on trying to scare women? Because I’m not scared.”

  “No,” the answer was one word said in a bored tone.

  “Then get out of my way. This place doesn’t run itself.”

  “They can spare you for five minutes. And I’m pretty sure everyone is still asleep.”

  “I don’t want to waste five minutes of my time with you.”

  “Too bad.”

  “You’re not going to move, are you?”

  “Nope.”

  Rolling her eyes, she said, “I seriously have better things to do than stand here and talk to you.”

  “Then shut up so I can apologize, then you can be on your way,” he muttered and lowered his eyes to the ground hiding the shame in them.

  Stunned by his brashness she stuttered, “W-what?”

  “I threatened a young lady earlier,” Lincoln began. “I’m not proud of it but my mother needed your help and I didn’t know how else to get you to look at her without being there in person. I had to get supplies and I didn’t trust anyone else to do it because I knew if you had food, you’d help me. If I’d been able to talk to you in person, I wouldn’t have been such an—.”

  Heather interrupted him, “Asshole.”

  Lincoln gave her a wisp of a roguish smile and murmured, “I do apologize for my asshole behavior.” He entered the room clearing the doorway and gestured she was free to go. Just for a second, she stood there letting the situation sink in, and then stumbled forward and exited the room as fast as she could.

  TWENTY

  S lumped over on the bed, Lincoln woke up startled with a crick in his neck. A blanket had been placed over his back and fell as he sat up to stretch. He peered at the wrinkled hand in front of him and slowly brushed his fingertips over hers, daring to touch it. She stirred, causing his hand to jerk back automatically. If she caught him touching her she’d probably break his fingers. The thought filled him with sadness as a chuckle escaped his lips.

  “What the hell am I going to do with you? How do I fight the disease in your head? How do I take care of you if every time you look at me, all you see is your worst nightmare?” he whispered emotionally.

  “You can hold her hand if you want,” Heather’s voice made Lincoln stiffen. He clinched his hands into fists and tried to remember what he normally did with them. Heat rose up his neck and he refused to glance at her shuffling around behind him. “She won’t be waking up for the next couple of hours.”

  Of course, the first time he wanted her to run away as quickly as possible, she decided to stay. Standing next to him she abruptly took his hand and gently placed it over Gloria’s, folding his fingers around it. He immediately disentangled his hand from his mother’s, embarrassed by the intimacy, and patted her hand twice before sitting down again.

  Heather’s eyes trailed up his arm and she examined the miniature white scars in the shape of thin lines that erratically covered it.

  “What happened to you?” she whispered with wide eyes blatantly staring.

  Under her gaze Lincoln squirmed and leaned away from her. No one ever asked about his scars, everyone always assumed it was a forbidden topic. But she had already heard his confession, so he shrugged and murmured, “She doesn’t see me as her son anymore. I can’t blame her if wants to defend herself from the man she hates.”

  Heather’s heart warmed and split into pieces at his revelation. She bit her lip before admitting, “That’s actually super sweet, and must be really painful. Mentally and physically.”

  “She never drives the nail file in too deep. And the nurses always cleaned me up at the nursing home.” He refused to gaze in her direction hoping she’d leave as soon as possible.

  Instead, she pulled up a chair next to his and relaxed. “I’ve seen tougher men than you falter the moment their mother is in trouble. The connection has always fascinated me. Boys and their mothers. Girls and their fathers.”

  Lincoln tried to keep his expression neutral by her willingness to be in close proximity to him. The tension relaxed in his neck and he leaned back with a nervous chuckle, “I never claimed to be tough. I’m just a man with a will to survive. And you? Are you a daddy’s girl?”

  “No. He destroyed my mother when he left us. And I hope he’s dead,” she meant every word. Not a hint of anguish or regret crossed her face when she said it.

  “Thank you for helping her,” Lincoln’s voice rumbled gently. “And fixing Wyatt. He has a little girl at home waiting for him.”

  “Thank you for keeping Jule alive,” she replied in a soft tone. “And the food. We would have died if it weren’t for you.” Neither of them budged an inch from staring straight ahead. The awkward silence stretched between them and Lincoln knew if he stayed quiet long enough, she’d leave.

  Her voice filled the quiet room, “Wyatt never mentioned he had a daughter. He only talks about the little girl waiting for you at home.”

  Lincoln stood abruptly knocking his chair over. He skidded to a stop in front of Wyatt’s room and burst inside.

  Groggy with a huge grin across his face, Wyatt’s head slowly rose as he squinted at Lincoln standing in the middle of his room. The room was identical to Gloria’s. Only Wyatt was wide awake, happy as can be.

  “You! I love you. Come here. You need a hug,” Wyatt waved Lincoln over, and stretched his arms out to embrace him.

  “You-uh, OK? In any pain?” Lincoln asked once he surveyed the room and found nothing suspicious. Something brushed against his arm and Heather appeared next to him.

  Wyatt tapped his heart whispering, “Distance is pain.” He stretched out his arms again waiting for Lincoln to hug him.

  “Is there a reason you almost gave me a heart attack back there?” Heather inquired confused.

  “I thought he was going to commit suicide.”

  She hit Lincoln on the arm and he leaned away from her wincing. The bruises and scratches Gloria left from earlier were still sore.

  “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. I should probably clean those,” she stepped away from him with both hands over her mouth.

  “It’s just a few scratches,” Lincoln grumbled pulling down his sleeve.

  “You scared me! We were talking and then you hightailed it out of there like the building was on fire. I thought you heard those things breaking in or something. Why the hell do you think he’d commit suicide?”

  “Because he said I had a little girl at home.”

  “Did he tell you about Charlotte?” Wyatt questioned huggin
g himself happily.

  “Charlotte?” Lincoln muttered more to himself.

  “Yes, she’s waiting for you,” Wyatt said in a singsong voice.

  “No she’s not,” Lincoln scoffed.

  “She never let’s go of his hand,” Wyatt told Heather in a loud whisper. “Follows him around everywhere. And the way she lights up when he talks to her.”

  “What are you talking about?” Lincoln asked bewildered.

  “If he’s delusional then I might need to check his head,” Heather stepped forward, but Lincoln blocked her with his arm.

  “Charlotte is real. But I’m not her father,” Lincoln answered slowly. He tried to remember if there was any truth to Wyatt’s drug induced tales, but all he could remember was a scared girl who refused to talk to him.

  “So you do have a little girl waiting for you at home,” Heather said with an edge of sadness. She tried to hide it by tipping up the left side of her mouth. “And you’ll probably be leaving soon.”

  Fixated on the fact Wyatt can’t keep his trap shut, Lincoln asked uncomfortably, “Has he said anything else to you?”

  “Like all your deepest, darkest secrets? I know all of them,” Heather teased rubbing her palms together like an evil mastermind. “Are you two besties?”

  Wyatt said yes at the same time Lincoln said no. At the top of his lungs, Wyatt started singing a song about them being the best of friends.

  “You see what you started?” Lincoln gave a tired sigh and let his head hang for a moment.

  “Don’t worry your secrets are safe with me,” Heather winked at Lincoln, a smile spreading across her face.

  “Did you tell him?” Wyatt whispered loudly to Heather. His eyes twinkling with excitement.

  Lincoln lifted his head, his eyes darted between them alarmed, “Tell me what?”

  Heather’s voice overpowered the room, “Okay! The patient needs his rest. Apparently I can lower his drug dosage now.” She tugged on Lincoln’s arm signaling it was time for him to leave, but he didn’t budge.

  Concerned about the information Heather was trying to hide and Wyatt was about to spill, Lincoln stepped forward. His gut churned uneasily, and he wanted to check on his mother convinced whatever they were hiding was about her. Keeping his voice level, Lincoln questioned, “Tell me what Wyatt? What’s she not telling me?”

  “Someone in this room likes you. And it’s not me,” Wyatt whispered loudly for everyone to hear. He mouthed ‘I heart you’ and made a heart with his hands.

  A questioning eyebrow rose, his gaze pinned Heather with confusion and then he caught the tinge of crimson heating her cheeks. She busied herself with Wyatt’s sheets and tucked him in refusing to make eye contact with Lincoln. The corner of his mouth tipped up at the realization and he asked roguishly, “You told him you liked me?”

  “I may have mentioned you—once—or twice,” she admitted casually and shrugged trying to hide her embarrassment. “In my defense, I thought he was high on drugs and wouldn’t remember a thing.”

  “She asked why she was always attracted to the bad ones,” Wyatt revealed flopping back on his pillow. Humming his best friend song Lincoln watched him close his eyes.

  Since he wouldn’t be divulging any more information, Heather turned on her heel and exited the room. Lincoln let her flee the embarrassing situation grinning behind her, but he couldn’t help sending these words after her, “Guess I ruined my bad boy image when I apologized.”

  “Nope. Jule did that for you,” she replied with an aloof attitude.

  “Hey, she said we would never speak of that ever again,” Lincoln almost followed her out but Noah blocked his path.

  Entering the room, Noah plopped down in the only chair available and got right down to business, “What’s the plan?”

  “Noah? Is that you?” Wyatt asked his eyes half lidded with a loopy grin across his face.

  “No,” Noah answered.

  Wyatt squinted at the motionless, blurry images in his room. He shrugged his shoulders and decided to believe the voice that sounded like Noah’s. Drowsily closing his eyes, he hummed his best friend song.

  “That’s all it takes?” Lincoln questioned in disbelief.

  Noah shrugged. “I’m a little jealous of his drugs.”

  “It makes him talk too much.

  Noah leaned forward in his seat and said, “While you’ve been holed up in Gloria’s room, I’ve been playing nice with the others.” Noah’s desperate eyes locked on Lincoln’s. “I’ve already taken provisions for all of us and found an exit strategy.”

  The anxiety and restlessness pierced through his calm demeanor. Noah felt like a caged animal and wanted to be free as soon as possible. Most of the people here depended on Heather, Jule and Russell to lead them. The only one with survival experience was Russell, and he’d given Noah the impression he wouldn’t be sticking around in the near future.

  “We have to figure out when Wyatt can travel. I’d prefer to leave on a day my mom can handle it, but let’s face the facts, that may never happen,” Lincoln admitted with a sigh.

  “Oh thank God,” Noah exhaled in relief. “I thought you’d try to chase that ass and stay here.”

  “Careful what you say around Wyatt. He’s repeating everything he hears,” Lincoln warned.

  “Who would believe anything he says?”

  Lincoln changed the subject. “When you said you have provisions for everyone . . . who did you include?”

  “You, me, Wyatt, your mom.”

  “Not Heath,” Lincoln stated.

  “I’m pretty sure he’s hooking up with Haley, the woman that kicked ass while singing the baseball song.”

  “Lucky son of a bitch. Her swing was rock solid,” Lincoln agreed.

  “If she was ten years younger you might have had a shot,” Noah said. “Being a mama’s boy didn’t help.”

  “You only get one mama,” Lincoln replied sincerely. “Let’s give it another day to rest and pack up. It’ll give Wyatt time to be weaned off the drugs and Heather can teach you how to work a needle because I’m going to need help sedating my mom. Now tell me how the hell you plan on getting us out of here.”

  

  Heather agreed to give everyone a lesson in shots in the employee lounge. Proudly showing off her medical knowledge, Lincoln learned she’d been an attending and worked in the emergency room. She’d been stuck inside the building when they declared it was under quarantine.

  After the lesson, Lincoln waited until everyone left and cleared his throat to get her attention, “You didn’t happen to come across any flesh eaters with red eyes, did you?”

  A curious expression crossed her face before it disappeared. Her movements slowed and her voice sounded guarded when she said, “There were rumors.”

  “Care to share what the rumors were?”

  She stopped folding the bandages in her hand. The lesson over shots became a basic first aid class. Probably due to the fact that they had nothing else to look forward to. Narrowing her eyes suspiciously she asked, “Have you seen one?”

  “Yes.”

  “Prove it.”

  “What do you want a picture? Fresh out of cell phones,” he said raising his arms with his palms out.

  “What do they eat?”

  “I have no idea. I’ve only seen them try to crack a head open.”

  Her voice came out in a whisper, “For brains.” She seemed embarrassed by the answer she gave and quickly added, “That was the rumor. It sounded like a horror movie, something completely implausible, but—.” She finished her sentence with a shrug. “The person to ask is Jule.”

  “A teenage girl?”

  “That teenage girl was the daughter of two—not just one—two renowned doctors that lived in this hospital. So yes, if it’s secrets you want. Jule is the only one alive that can tell you them.”

  Lincoln finally understood the authority Jule held over the others. Heather was putting the last of the supplies away that she used in her demons
trations and Lincoln quickly examined the room to make sure it was still empty. He’d probably never get her alone again so he took a deep breath and shyly stuttered, “I-uh-you can’t stay in the hospital forever.”

  She tilted her head a little, sticking unopened supplies back in their drawers, and carefully said, “It’s safe for now. If this is an attempt to ask me to stay you don’t have to ask.” Hope seeped through the uneasiness she felt as her eyes flickered to his.

  “Or you could come with us,” he blurted out and felt the heat raise up his neck.

  “All of us?”

  The question that always got everyone killed.

  Lincoln exhaled prepared to answer. “No, just you. There are eighteen people here not including my group and only four volunteered to fight to survive. The second food starts getting scarce you will see what humans a truly capable of, especially parents.”

  “We were fine before you got here.”

  “Did you?” Lincoln questioned. “Because the moment you ran out of food, they sent a little girl out to find some.”

  “No one can tell Jule what to do, she’s impossible. She decided to go out on her own. We tried to look for her, but she knows the hospital better than anyone,” Heather argued curtly.

  “And when she didn’t return—who else volunteered to search for food?”

  Heather pursed her lips and tried to hide her shameful expression.

  “There will be a point in your lifetime when you have to decide to save yourself, or everyone else. If you wait too long the decision is made for you.”

  “Is that what you teach the little girl waiting for you?” Heather challenged.

  “Yes. Because if I don’t, she won’t survive.”

  “You would leave Wyatt and Noah behind if the situation called for it?”

  “No. They’d tell me to go, just like Wyatt did the moment he found out he couldn’t walk.”

  “But you didn’t leave him.”

  “If he dies, I promised to watch his little girl. So it’s in my best interest to keep him alive,” Lincoln said letting the lie easily roll off his tongue.