The Dead Saga (Book 6): Odium VI

by Riley, Claire C.

  I wasn’t quite sure how he hadn’t bled to death yet, but I was guessing that since those bitches were cannibalistic psychopaths they must have had a trick or two up their sleeve in keeping people alive for longer than was reasonable when you were chopping parts off them for your Sunday lunch.

  Standing back up, I started to pace the cell again, unsure of what to do for the best—for me and for him.

  Should I kill him now, before he wakes back up and tries to eat me? It’s gotta be better for him than turning into one of the deaders, right? Or should I try, probably in vain, to patch him up and keep him going a little longer in the hopes that his men come back to get us? But for what purpose? By the looks of that wound in his stomach, he isn’t going to last much longer. But I could be wrong.

  Shit, I just don’t know anymore.

  Maybe it was the fear talking for me, or maybe it was because I didn’t like the idea of having to kill anyone, but something was holding me back from doing anything. And right then, doing nothing wasn’t an option. I had to do something, because if I didn’t, I was dead anyway.

  *

  Drag groaned and rolled onto his side. “Fuck, brother, am I not dead yet?”

  “Not unless I’m dead too.” I shrugged, part of me wishing that I was.

  Drag chuckled and pulled out his cigarettes. He put one in his mouth and struck a match before trying in vain to light it for several seconds. When he couldn’t manage it, he glared up at me. “Well don’t just stand there with your dick in your hand—help a brother out.”

  I walked over and pulled the cigarette from his lips and lit it for him before handing it back over. He offered the pack to me but I shook my head.

  “I’ve been thinking of quitting,” I replied, and he chuckled.

  “Seems a strange time to quit the only good thing going in your life.”

  I shrugged again. “I don’t even smoke.”

  Drag chuckled some more, but his laughter turned into coughing.

  “I need to take a look at that,” I said, pointing to his stomach.

  “Not much point unless you’re a doctor. Bitch carved a chunk out of me and then cooked it right in front of me. Think she made salami out of it or some shit. So unless you got something to fill up this big ol’ empty space inside of me, I’m not much use for anything but worm food.” He blew out a mouthful of smoke and smirked. “Probably not worm food though, right?” He chuckled again and winked.

  It was a front. All of it. I could see the terror in his eyes; the fear of dying and turning, or worse still, of being cut up piece by piece and eaten alive. It didn’t matter who you were or what you’d done in your life—you couldn’t deny fear like that.

  I stared at him in silence, horror and the sickening reality of the situation settling on my shoulders. “We’re not getting out of here alive, are we?”

  He blew out some more smoke, grinning between the clouds. “Of course we are, brother. I found the exit.” Drag coughed, bloody spittle splashing across his lips. His smile fell and he looked away from me, spitting out a mouth full of blood. “All we gotta do is wait for the right time and get the fuck goin’.”

  I nodded in agreement, yet worry still burned through me and I found that if anything, I felt worse than before when we didn’t know the way out. The fear of being caught and ending up like Drag, chunks carved out of me while I slowly bled to death and left to turn into one of the deaders, was a very real situation, and one I couldn’t deny.

  “What?” Drag snapped, his temper flaring. “You thinkin’ of sticking around for a little while? Maybe Aife’ll let you stay alive and be her plaything instead of her dinner? Can’t really blame you. I mean, there’s worse ways to go out than as someone’s concubine. But lemme tell you a little secret…that ain’t how it’s gonna go down. In fact, I’d be surprised if she didn’t cut off your big guy and feed it to you while they hack you up to make themselves a tasty stir-fry. That is if I don’t turn into one of those rotting meat sacks and chew off your face first, brother.” He glared at me, his anger and fear all rolling into one. And for the second time since I’d met him, I saw his vulnerability. Yet as soon as I saw it, it was gone, replaced by anger again. “I’m getting’ the fuck outta here, and you’re gonna help me. That ain’t a choice. Ya’ hear me?”

  I nodded again, that time in total agreement, despite the fear. “I hear you,” I growled out. “We’re getting out of here.”

  “Fuck yeah, we are.”

  I glanced down at the mess around his stomach. “Going to have to do something about that first, though.” I shrugged out of the dirty checkered shirt and sweat-stained T-shirt I was wearing. “Sit up, if you can.”

  Drag complied, his hands clutching at his stomach. He gritted his teeth, curling his hands into fists that were so tight his knuckles went white, and he grunted as I folded my tee and pressed it against his stomach and then wrapped my shirt around him before tying it tightly. He cried out before biting down on his own hand to stop his screams from attracting attention.

  It wasn’t anywhere near what was required to stop him bleeding to death, but it might just keep him going long enough for us to get the hell out of there. I wiped my bloodied hands down my jeans and then helped him to his feet.

  He plucked his cigarette butt from between his lips and threw it to the side. “All right, reckon we better get a move on before those bitches come back,” he said, and that time there was no emotion in his voice. His face was equally expressionless, and I figured it was probably taking everything in him to not collapse to the ground and let death take him. Sure as hell would have been easier for him.

  I helped him stand and then leaned him against the wall while I started picking the lock. My hands trembled and I tried to grit my teeth against the panic that ran through me, but no matter how hard I tried, my hands still shook. I shook them out, swiping away at the sweat that ran down the side of my face.

  “Chill out, brother,” Drag grunted.

  I took a deep breath and mumbled an apology.

  “Keep your apology and just get us outta here. This ain’t the way I’m supposed to go, ya hear me? This ain’t fuckin’ it for me.”

  I shifted my gaze to him while I flexed my hands and tried to stop their shaking. “Wish I had your confidence.”

  “Ain’t confidence, it’s the truth. Dated this chick when I was twenty-one and she told me how I was goin’ out of this world, and it wasn’t like this.” He reached into his cut and pulled out another cigarette. The man seemed to have an endless supply.

  “Wouldn’t have taken you for a man to believe in all that crap,” I replied, turning back to the lock.

  “Neither would I, but everythin’ that bitch told me has come true, so you see, it’s hard not to.” He blew out a mouthful of smoke and I glanced back at him.

  “Everything?”

  He nodded. “Everythin’. Bitch even predicted the end of days, the rising of the dead and my mom bein’ killed by the virus. Never really believed much of it until things started to come true. Part of the reason I ended things with her—she’s the only woman that’s ever scared the shit out of me.” He chuckled. “Apart from Aife, that is.”

  I stared at him, my jaw slack in surprise. He nodded toward the lock and grinned, and I went on picking it. I’d never believed in fate or palm reading or the alignment of the stars having anything to do with life, but Drag seemed so convinced that it was hard not to have a little faith in what he was saying.

  The lock flicked free and I pulled open the door slowly, checking both ways to make sure no one was there, and then I looked back in at him, steely determination now running through my veins. Because hell, if Drag could have a little faith that we’d survive this, how could I not? He was the one with a huge chunk missing from him. He’d been beaten, tortured, and God knew what else, yet there he stood, smoking a cigarette and grinning at me.

  We were getting out of there.

  I was going to survive.

  And then I
was going to get so drunk I blotted out this nightmare from my memory forever.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  I put an arm under him and I took his weight. “Hell yeah, let’s get out of here.”

  “Mikey?” Drag fumbled at the back of his jeans before pulling out a sharp, seven-inch, handmade blade. “Probably gonna need this.”

  I took it from him and examined it. It was sharp as hell and made of a material I’d never seen before. Not steel or any other metal, but something else—something more human. I glanced at him.

  “Took it from one of those bitches as they carried me in here,” he said bluntly, and I knew then exactly what I was holding.

  I ignored the shiver of fear that crawled my spine and I tucked the blade into my back pocket. “Let’s do this,” I grumbled, more than ready to either die or live. This in-between shit was driving me crazy.

  “Atta boy,” Drag chuckled.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Nina

  If battling the dead were an Olympic sport I would totally have already won a couple of awards for it. I even had my acceptance speech all planned out in my head and everything.

  Thank you so much for this. I’d like to thank my mom for teaching me to never give up on my dreams. My dad for teaching me self-defense, because in a tough world like this a woman can never be too protected. But mostly I’d like to thank Denise for knocking my lunch tray out of my hands in tenth grade because you heard that Archie liked me more than you. Because you taught me never to take shit from anyone…I hope you got that front tooth I kicked out fixed.”

  I kicked my heavy boot into the stomach of the deader I was fighting, ignoring the squelch of decomposing stomach matter as I did. It was best not to think about things like that and instead imagine it was Jell-O and not stomach goo. Gross.

  “You good?” Axe growled out as he swung his hammer into the head of a deader that had surprise-attacked him from behind like a ninja zombie.

  “No,” I grunted as I slapped the deader across the face with a large tree branch, making its head whip to one side. It didn’t do much to kill the stupid thing but I’d dropped my machete a few minutes earlier, which was a rookie thing to do. My hand had fumbled around on the ground for it and instead come back up with a tree branch. An actual freaking tree branch. It worked pretty well, though, à la Rapunzel and her trusty frying pan style. Still, I really needed to find that damn machete again.

  The deader came at me once more and I growled in annoyance. “Just die already!” I grabbed the end of the branch and swung at its head over and over again until all that was left was a misshapen, gunky mass. It was still standing, arms hanging by its sides while it gurgled some aberrant noise from somewhere within the mess of its head.

  I swung a final time, sending it falling backwards, and then I slammed the end of the branch right through its brain, finishing it off completely. I let go of the branch and scanned the ground for my machete while I caught my breath.

  “Took you long enough,” O’Donnell said with a grin as she kicked my machete over to me.

  I gave her the middle finger and picked it up before slotting it back in its sheath. “Ughh, I’m covered in gunk now.”

  “You and me both, girl,” she replied.

  “You two done chit-chatting?” Axe grumbled. “Can we head back in and get something to eat now?” He started to make his way back into Haven with a shake of his head, his strides long and heavy.

  Aiken had made us a deal: a hot meal and fresh supplies for the trip home if we killed the deaders at the front of their headquarters. Everything came at a price in Haven; nothing was for free. O’Donnell didn’t need to assist, but she’d decided to anyway. I hated that she was so damn likeable.

  We followed Axe, and despite the heavy tension, I found myself smiling. As the gates swung open to allow us back in, I looked up and saw some of the citizens of the place watching us with calm expressions on their healthy faces. That was what that place was—health. Everyone looked well-fed and cared for, and happy. It wasn’t the forced happy or the fake happy either—it was the real deal. Plenty of sleep, vitamin D, and being happy with your co-workers in that place. It was kinda cool to see.

  With the heavy gates shut behind us, we were sealed into a better world. Women, men, and even children were treated as equals. Everyone had to earn their keep by working hard in whatever job they were given. And jobs, I thought with a shake of my head. Everyone had a job there depending upon their skill level. They shared their things, they shared their knowledge, they shared their lives. And most importantly, they kept each other safe and protected.

  It was an amazing place and I wished I could stay.

  Moo, a girl of around twelve or thirteen, fell into step beside me. “You’re pretty good with that.” I’d seen her watching me, her gaze straying to the machete at my side.

  I smirked at her youthful arrogance. She reminded me of me. “Thanks.”

  “Who taught you?”

  I thought about that for a moment, thinking of all the people that had helped me learn to wield that piece of metal and turning it—and me—into a deadly weapon. There were too many to mention. And sadly, most of them were dead.

  “I was self-taught,” I finally replied. “Though I had a little help along the way.”

  She nodded approvingly. “Me too.”

  I couldn’t imagine that kid fighting deaders and humans alike, but I didn’t need to. I’d seen it with my own eyes earlier on. The kid was a total badass, no doubt helped by the fact that her mom was a badass too. They’d been training together on the top platform above the wall, their movements fluid and deadly as they’d sparred together. Love, happiness, and mad training skills all rolled into one.

  Moo smiled at me and headed off to the left. I hadn’t figured my way around the place yet, but I’d given it a quick once-over when I’d checked the perimeter earlier. It was big, but manageable. The walls high and deep, kind of like the Highwaymen base, but better because this wasn’t just a self-built post-apocalypse place. The NEO headquarters were already there when Aiken found it, apparently, and they just built upon the pre-existing town, securing it further by thickening the walls, adding platforms, extra security surrounding the town and more. Though Aiken didn’t go into too much detail about the “more” part.

  Aiken was standing waiting for us, his matchstick still in place. He held out his hand and Axe took it and shook it. “We’re loaded and ready to go. Food is being served up for you both, with extra rations packed up for you to take on the road when we leave. Come on.” He turned and headed back into town and I looked at O’Donnell, checking that she was still happy with the situation. She nodded and I felt more at ease.

  As much as I liked Aiken, I didn’t fully trust him yet. I’d been let down by too many people in my life already and I wasn’t about to let my guard down with a new person right away. O’Donnell, however, I found I trusted.

  “I’m going to say goodbye to some friends. I’ll see you by the entrance in twenty,” she said, and took off toward a group of women. They hugged her as she got to them, their happy voices filling the air and making my stomach sour in jealousy.

  We moved through town and over to a small building with a table and chairs outside. Aiken pushed open the door and we continued to follow him inside, taking our seats at a small square wooden table with a floral tablecloth over the top. I smirked at the normality of it all and sighed.

  Axe hadn’t batted an eyelid at any of it, and instead picked up his knife and fork as he waited less than patiently for something to eat, all but demanding they hurry the hell up like a spoiled kid waiting for his dessert. A tall, willowy woman came through the kitchen doors carrying a tray of food and another man followed her, his arms laden with a tray carrying a jug of water and two glasses. My mouth started salivating as the smell hit my senses.

  “Damn, that smells amazing,” I commented.

  Axe grunted something as the food was placed down in front of
us, and he started to eat like he’d never been fed, stabbing his fork right through the center of a piece of meat and biting a chunk out of it.

  I looked down at my plate, at “real” food—veggies, meat, and potatoes—and smiled. But then my eyes fell on god’s-honest salt and pepper shakers on the table. I choked on a sob and tried to shake it off as I picked up my cutlery and started to cut up my food. I stabbed my fork through a cooked tomato, my eyes watering as I thought about Mikey. About the future. About the past. About what I stood to lose, and to gain, and all that crazy shit in between.

  “Your boy had the same response,” Aiken said, coming to sit at the free seat on our table. He’d turned the little wooden chair the wrong way around and was straddling it, leaning over its back.

  I took a bite of my food, refusing to be baited into talking about anything Mikey-related. Especially in front of Axe. I’d noticed him look up briefly as he ate at the mention of Mikey’s name, but I couldn’t think about any of that right then.

  “I was actually just thinking how much I used to hate tomatoes and now they’re considered a luxury to me,” I lied. “Weird, right?” I said, taking a bite of it and groaning as the juices ran across my tongue and down my throat.

  A slow smile rose to Aiken’s face, but he didn’t call me out on my bullshit, thankfully. He plucked the matchstick from between his teeth and let his tongue drag over his bottom lip before speaking. Aiken was a handsome man, there was no denying that. But like most men that had survived the end of the world, there was something dangerous about him too. I guess that was to be expected, really. You didn’t survive the end of the world by saving kittens and running from your demons.

  “I like you,” he said, pointing at me and chuckling.

  “You might be surprised, but I seem to be getting that more and more recently.” I shrugged nonchalantly.

  Aiken threw back his head and laughed loudly. “You’re a likeable woman, that’s why,” he said, clapping his hands together.