“Do you know where we are, Chad?”
“You’re not from Missouri.” He doesn’t ask a question.
“Not originally. I was hoping to make Rolla my new home.”
“We’re the cave state. This’s the famous hideout of the outlaw, Jesse James.”
“Meramec Caverns. Fitting for this group of vagabonds,” she says.
“It would be a secure location from the biters. Plenty of fresh water.” Chad closes his eyes.
“They’re raiders. Took me and my friend.”
“I was never your friend, Regina.”
In the dim light, Chad spots the fresh bandage on the arm of the man at the cell bars.
Guards shove him in and lock the door.
“New guest. You attempt to woo him to your cause, Regina?”
“I see you did no better with our host than I did, Kale.”
He slides down the wall, so he has Mary’s eyes level in his view. “Well, turns out our brother, Kame, may have fucked us all.”
“You said fuck.” Mary’s eyes grow to saucer size. “You don’t swear.”
“Before the fall of Fort Wood, Kame knew about this place. While doing his supply runs, he was trading goods, equipment and sometimes for women to satisfy his disgusting fetishes. Had the world not ended, the serial killer would be in prison,” Kale says.
“We’re both still in this cell, so he left a debt you can’t cover.”
“Seems redneck brothers stick together. Kame was killed by the same man who murdered Kade. I speculate when he killed Kame, he murdered his men and the men they were meeting from this camp.”
“And one of the dead men was the brother of the guy who runs this place.”
“Bingo, Regina. Only I’ve no proof of this lone murderer, and now they hold a grudge against the Bowlins.”
“They have plans for us?” Mary asks.
“I offered to provide compensation and information about the real killer,” Kale says.
“That’s when they put you back in here,” Mary says.
Chad says nothing. Luckily, his bruising face hides his shock. He thinks of the old movie he watched with his grandfather. The classic. The one set before WWII in…where was it? No matter, it’s the line about being in all the gin joints at the same time.
No matter. Protect the baby.
ETHAN STEPS FROM the SUV. Fifteen cars line both sides of the two-lane blacktop. He calculates fuel lost in turning around and discovering another route, or if moving some of the thirty cars is faster. He’s not sure if they’re placed here intentionally or they got stuck in some botched evacuation attempt.
Gentarra peers into the back of the SUV. “You stay here.” She warns the professor, now with a taped nose and racoon eyes matching Chet’s. She joins Ethan.
“Gentarra, take the wheel. Serena, stay on my six right here at the end of the cars.” One quick swipe of a biter pinned under the car and your bare legs are toast. Ethan draws the M&P from his left thigh, transferring it to his right hand.
Ethan makes each hobble step prepared to repel an ambush. The cars covered in the dust of half a year indicate a lack of people. I don’t like how they’re parked in a perfect line.
A trap? Who sets a trap like this here in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere? If the cars were abandoned, who parks them as if they used a ruler?
“Do we get some people to move some of the cars?” Gentarra calls after him.
He waves his left arm to signal her to be quiet. She should know better. He brushes away some of the white dust from a window. The backseat has luggage. If we move the cars, we should check for gear. Ethan counts twenty pairs of cars before they disappear over the knoll. Damn, this could take all day. But we don’t spend gas going around.
He marches back to the SUV. “Have Shayne and the knights run a perimeter. Let everyone stretch their legs. Have a few inspect these cars for anything useful. No one leaves this spot. Before we move any of the cars, we check how far this line goes over the hill. Beware trapped biters.”
“Why would anyone do this?” Serena asks.
“I don’t know. It’s too far out of a populated area to be a trap. I think they were escaping and got stuck,” Gentarra says.
Ethan marches toward the hill. If five biters popped out right now, I’d feel better than none at all. Hell, even vagrants would make me feel better about this line of cars.
Ethan meets with Shayne. “Do you know this area?”
“No. It’s outside our range of scavenging. You were making good time.”
“Ever see anything like this?”
“Plenty of fleeing cars blocking the road.”
“It’s a staple of many cities, but these are in a straight line. They were parked this way. No deviation.”
“We can spend hours moving them, or detour.”
“Detour, if it’s faster,” Shayne votes.
Ethan slips a Garmin from his vest. It takes several minutes for it to acquire a satellite. “It needs updated, but I doubt the roads have changed.”
“Handy device. I would’ve thought they stopped working with no one to maintain the satellites. Their orbits have to be adjusted frequently,” Shayne says.
“I don’t know how long it takes for a satellite’s orbit to decay, but as long as it’s close, it’s something. Besides, I never stopped at a convenience store to pick up an Arkansas map.”
“One of these cars has to have one in the glovebox.”
“Were you guys into Renaissance reenacting before?” Ethan asks.
“We did weekends playing knights and LARP fighting. We were traveling for a big week-long Renaissance Festival when the plague unleashed. We plan it every year. It’s our vacation away from our families.”
“You don’t know?”
“We know.” Shayne lowers his head. “Without us there to protect them, they’re gone. Two of our buddies left and have never made it back. The armor and horses need a supply base. We can’t travel far with all this gear, and we need it for protection. If we thought there was a chance they were alive, we wouldn’t be here.”
“We all have family to search for. But by now, they’re gone. Or what they’ve done to survive makes them people we wouldn’t recognize,” Ethan says.
“The old world’s over. The sooner people accept it, the better. We’ll carry some of the guns you get. But we stick with our blades. They don’t draw as much attention as a blast of thunder.” Shayne pats the hilt of his sheathed sword.
“I find it effective to take them down quick. Even if it draws more in, they aren’t fast.”
“You’ve never seen a fast one?” Shayne asks.
“Some fresh ones have speed, but none I couldn’t pop.”
“Not these fuckers. We’ve encountered a few. And this one chased down a horse at full gallop, leaped and brought down our man and his mount. It’s the only death our remaining group has had. They can’t bite through the armor, but they chewed on his feet. We can’t armor the bottoms of our feet. Or shins. We lost our friend and horse. Both are irreplaceable.”
“I’m sorry you lost a friend.” Ethan punches in Fort Wood, then seeks alternate routes. “We need to locate a motorcycle and scout some of these side roads. If this bridge is gone, we’re right back here moving cars.”
“If we shove the right lane into the ditch, we can squeeze through.”
“Spread your knights out to protect those moving the cars. I’m going to scout ahead. I don’t like this layout at all.”
BOOM.
Ethan crouches between the cars. He slips the GPS in his pocket before drawing his Magnum. People from the camp race to a fallen member.
“He shot himself,” Shayne says.
“Get your knights and patrol. The shot might draw biters.” Ethan races to the fallen man. “Gentarra, any of your people medics?’
She pulls an orange bag with a caduceus emblazoned on the flap from the SUV.
“Put pressure on the wound,” Ethan orders as he pulls the M
16 from the fallen man’s hand.
“There’s blood everywhere.” Serena panics.
Ethan, never in a panic or hurry, folds the towel given to him.
Much like water boiling over in a cooking pot with an ill fitted lid, blood squirts up, spills out, then a few seconds pass before more splashes out. He covers the hole. “Press down on it and don’t let go or move.”
The victim grunts from the pressure.
“I’m hurting him,” she protests.
“Good. Means you’re clamped down tight enough to stop the blood flow.”
“We don’t have a real doctor.” Gentarra opens the bag. It spreads out flat, allowing for access of all tools at once.
“I’m only a basic medic. I’ve no knowledge on how to sew the kid up,” Ethan admits.
“Is he going to die?” someone in the crowd asks.
“He’s lost a lot of blood. I think the bullet nicked a vein, and that requires a surgeon to repair.” Ethan would rather Gentarra draw her own conclusions. My camp has two surgeons, a medical staff and a dentist. Accidents like this don’t happen. No one carries until they’re certified by a military instructor. “The kids going to die.”
The professor stands over Ethan. “You caused this with your guns and taking my people from their home.”
“You got any medical training?”
“No. My doctorate is in academia.”
“Then shut the fuck up.” Ethan and Gentarra both say in unison.
“Ethan, save him,” Serena whispers. “He’s not breathing.”
Ethan draws his Magnum—a bit of overkill for this job at this distance.
Gentarra slides between him and the boy. “Wait, you’re going to shoot him without attempting CPR? You said you had medical training.”
“I never took an oath to do no harm. You want to be performing mouth to mouth when he wakes up a biter? Stand aside, woman.”
Ethan lines up the sights. “I promise you a clean death.”
The thunder echoes throughout the parked cars.
Serena hands Ethan a pair of binoculars.
He scans the lake. “Four, no, five house boats lashed together and anchored.”
“No biters could reach it,” Serena says.
“There’s a canoe. And no movement.”
“I can swim it,” she offers.
“No. There’s nothing worth it out there.”
“How can you be sure?” she asks.
“I can’t, but I’m betting any gains aren’t worth the risk. I don’t even see biters, so the people abandoned it, or ended it after all their supplies were used up. It’ll take hours, and at some point, the super herd’s going to break up, and I plan to be well north of it when it does.”
“I thought there would be some guns. You said we need all we can get.” Serena storms off.
“What the fuck did I do?”
“I think you bonded with her and now you hurt her feelings,” Gentarra says. “She needs to be useful. She could do nothing to save Jonny.”
“Is this one of those things I’ll never understand about women?” Ethan asks.
“She needs you to be proud of her. She hurt her ankle. It almost dumped you in the Mississippi. You found her with Chet. She believes she’s responsible for Jonny bleeding out. She has guilt.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
“No, let it go. At least for now. Wait for a moment. From what I know of you, you’ll know the correct one,” Gentarra says.
“It’s not a good idea. And it’s too early in the day to camp and let her try.” Ethan visually inspects the boats again.
“Why would they abandon it? Why tie off five boats for a few people?”
“Room. Storage. Space. It’s cramped, prevents cabin fever. They scavenged after more supplies and got killed,” Ethan says.
“The more time I spend with you, the more I think you were born for this. What did you do before the end?” Gentarra asks.
“You need to get into the betting pool at Acheron,” Ethan suggests.
“I doubt they’ll let me. I’m humping their boss. Unfair advantage.”
“That’s going to break a lot of hearts.” Ethan smiles. His thoughts again turn to his shitty luck with women before the apocalypse.
ZEKE PLACES HIS tray down before slipping onto the bench seat welded to the table frame. He glances around the cafeteria before working his legs under. I hate to eat here. The constant reminder of the once happy place for children to have lunch ruins my appetite, despite it now being the community building for Acheron. I wish they’d cover the remains of the mural of contented children of every ethnicity playing as if in a Small World ride.
He rereads the rules of Acheron, scrolled over whitewash.
Rule #1: Biters are NOT people. Infected will be executed immediately.
Rule #2: All citizens, once properly certified, will carry arms.
Rule #3: Everyone works: Everyone Eats.
Rule #4: Punishment of violations will be severest as to the crime.
Rule #5: Protection of the Compound circumvents all other rules.
He bangs his knee. “What are these seats for—elementary kids?”
“They are. Don’t you eat down here often?” Jada sinks her teeth into a square-cut frozen pizza slice.
“I thought the tank was cramped. I remain at the dam end of the camp. Not many of us are capable of driving the iron beast.”
“We spend all days together, you think you’d want to socialize with others.”
You’re losing her. If she ever even glanced at the hook. “How’s the girl?” Numbskull, you’d have done better if you remembered her name. Should know all those rumors about her and Ethan.
“Emily? Weak. She was weak before the attack. I don’t know how she faired so well. But she has spirit. I train her.”
“You skipping guard duty?” You’ve got to come up with better questions.
“She must recover. Beginning will be slow. It will not affect my duty.”
Don’t ask if she’s ugly now. “Were her wounds bad?”
“Arm will heal. Her face, I’ve not seen it without the bandages.”
“She’ll be fine with you teaching her to fight.”
“It’s not about fighting. I never enjoyed pounding some weaker opponent.”
“You didn’t know they were weaker until they faced you.”
She nods approval. “I trained to be better than I was yesterday.”
“It paid off. You’re here and alive.”
Jada smiles. She tosses her half-eaten slice of pizza on the tray. “I eat this shit because it’s all we have. Next year, I’m expecting to eat more garden-fresh food. What got me here was blind luck. My time in a fighting cage served nothing.”
“I would have thought it would have prepared you for this new world.”
“Glance around. We’re stuck on boring guard duty because we lack useful skills. Carpenters. Welders. All get moved into personal quarters first.”
“I hadn’t noticed.” Which is crazy because north of the dam are dozens of camping parts and storage units for campers.
She sips from her cup. “No, you’re too busy staring at me. You going to ask me out or not, white boy?”
“What!?” Zeke’s left hand clamps the end of the table. His mouth hangs agape.
“I’m not blind. But you lack stones.”
“You knew I wanted to ask you out.”
Jada smiles.
“I don’t…I want to…it’s not like there’s a movie to take you to.”
“You could workout with me.”
“As long as it’s free weights. I might be able to keep up with you, but if you wish to spar, we’ll be spending the rest of the evening in the infirmary.”
“You come up with something interesting, and I’ll spend the evening with you.”
Zeke smiles. “I’ll come up with something to knock your socks off.”
SERENA SLIDES OPEN the cabinet built below the cabin cruiser’s
bench seat. She falls back with the teeth of a five-year-old sinking into her forearm. She kicks her legs, propelling herself backwards. The tiny space gives her no room to escape. Ethan draws his gun. The cramped chamber will damage their hearing and alert the others on shore. He slides his knife into the back of the child’s skull, puncturing her lizard brain. Black oil oozes from under the little, undead girl’s head, soaking her pigtails.
“I’m going to become one of those monsters. Promise me you won’t let me!” She paws at Ethan’s arm.
He grabs her by her shoulders, pinning her against the seat.
Ethan considers slapping Serena the way the line of passengers did in Airplane! for the hysterical woman. “Listen.” His clamping hands squeeze until the pain brings her attention to him. Her emerald eyes are beautiful, even full of tears. “At the military base, they experimented on a girl who was bit. The cure made her sick, near dying sick, brought her close to death.” He slips a case from the edge of his vest.
The container resembles a diamond tennis bracelet giftbox. He cracks open the clam shell.
“My guess is you’re willing to try. But this must be our secret. If it works, I don’t have enough for everyone. If it fails, you die anyway. I was hoping more could be synthesized.”
“I should’ve listened to you. I’m dead. Stick me. I’ll die fighting.”
“That’s my girl.”
Ethan stretches out her bleeding arm and thumps her skin before the elbow. The veins perk. He sticks the capped needle in his mouth and pulls out the razor point. Sliding it under her skin, he injects two ccs of the twenty-cc syringe. Spitting out the cap, Ethan also ejects the sharps. “I’ll have to find more needles.” He snaps the clam shell closed around the syringe and secures the case in his vest body armor.
“I feel sick.”
“You will. Sicker than any other time in your life. We’ll have to find some way to filter water.” He tears a sheet from the bed to make a bandage. After wrapping it tight to staunch the blood, he seals it with duct tape. “Tell them you fell on something rusty. We’re super worried about infection because you don’t know when your last tetanus shot was.”
No Room In Hell (Book 3): Aftershocks Page 33
