“I’m glad that’s over,” Raven said.
“The hunt for Dregan? Or the four wheelin’?”
“Both.”
“Bad news,” Cade said. “To get to the junction, we’re going to have to go back around behind the garage, across the field, and through the culvert.”
Raven made a face and sank into her seat. Nonplussed at the thought of riding a bucking and wallowing Black Beauty through that thing again, she crossed her arms over her chest, closed her eyes, and let the thrum of the tires on smooth asphalt serenade her.
***
Twenty minutes after leaving the ice cream truck in the rearview mirror, Cade was nosing the Ford off the access road running behind the auto body shop. He slowed considerably to navigate the field north to south. Pulling parallel to the culvert, he braked and threw the transmission to Park.
Raven opened her eyes, saw the culvert, and her hands shot for the grab bar by her head. Realizing her dad was waiting to commit, she asked, “Why are we stopping here?”
“To conduct a quick recon,” Cade said. “You see anything?”
She leaned over the dash, pointed south, and said, “There’s a white truck parked at the 39/16 junction.”
“Good eye,” Cade said. “Binoculars, please.”
The Steiners hit his upturned palm and Raven stated, “I can tell without using those that it’s not Jamie and Lev in the Raptor.”
Though the pickup was parked where the school bus used to be, just south of 39 on a flat parcel of ground, it was smaller and mostly obscured by the gently sloping westbound stretch of 39.
Cade was glassing the truck when the Thuraya emitted its shrill electronic trill.
He said, “Answer and put it on speaker.”
As soon as Raven had complied with her dad’s order, she let her eyes roam the mirrors, then rose up off her seat and checked all points of the compass. Seeing no threats to report to her dad, she settled her gaze on the distant pickup.
The same female voice as before said, “We see you, Grayson. We’re in the white Tundra at your eleven o’clock. We already drove 39,” she said. “The herd is still a half-mile out. What are you waiting for, the Second Coming of Christ?” The sheriff laughed at her own funny.
A real comedienne, Cade thought. Steiners still aimed at the truck, he said, “There’s a drainage culvert we need to negotiate first. Wait one. We’ll get there.”
As Cade set the binoculars aside, Raven’s hands went back to the grab bar. “Make it quick, “ she begged. “Just power through it. Down and up.”
“And buck Dregan out?”
“Fine,” she said, her lower lip jutting out. “You’re bound and determined to get your daughter her very own puker patch, aren’t you?”
“Nothing could be further from the truth,” he said. “The tire is holding air. No sense in inviting Murphy to deal us more vehicular issues.”
Raven stared at her dad side-eyed as he maneuvered the Ford down one side of the culvert and up the other. The whole way she was swinging from the grab bar like a monkey at the zoo.
As the truck leveled out, Cade said, “You survived. How ‘bout that.”
“I’m about to hurl,” she said. “How ‘bout that.”
“Like the last time you rode the Mad Mouse rollercoaster?”
The lip came out again. “I miss Oak’s Park,” she declared. “Think they’ll ever get the rides going again?”
“Lots more important things on the government’s plate than getting our old amusement park up and running.” In his mind he was wondering how far inland the PLA had pushed in Oregon and Washington. Reports out of California suggested their landing had been thwarted. Or at least repulsed. What he feared was the West Coast invasion had just been delayed and that their major landfall would now occur north of San Francisco, or, worst case scenario, Astoria, Oregon, or Long Beach, Washington. If that came to fruition, going home would not happen anytime soon. Which nixed the possibility of setting eyes on the Mad Mouse, let alone riding the thing.
“You know what I miss about Oak’s Park?”
Raven said nothing. Just stared at him as he wheeled the truck along the edge of the culvert heading toward the state route.
“Winning those goldfish for you. They didn’t live long, but you really squealed when the ping pong ball landed in the cup.”
“Remember how I stopped naming them until they lived at least a week.”
He nodded.
“You named the last one Connie. It lived a year or so.”
She made a face as the truck eased back onto the two-lane. As Cade stopped on the road facing south, she said, “Why did I do that again? It wasn’t because Connie is a girl’s name. Mom said something and I misinterpreted it.”
“You hadn’t mentioned the fish in a few days and me and Mom figured it had died. So she grabbed the net and went to your room. I remember her calling you up from downstairs. When you got there thinking the worst, Mom said, ‘Wow, Raven. This one’s got a heck of a constitution’.”
“That’s it … Constitution.”
Cade chuckled. “Since it was the day before the 4th of July, you thought it had to have something to do with the Constitution. You named the fish Connie right then and there. First goldfish of yours to get a name.”
Smiling at the memory, Raven released the grab handle and put the binoculars to her eyes.
“What do you see?”
“Two people. Driver is older than Mom and younger than Glenda.”
“That’s more than a twenty-year gap,” he said, “So you think our sheriff is about fifty?” Which, incidentally, was the age he’d assigned her when he glassed the pickup earlier.
Raven said, “Yes. Around fifty. She has the gray hair to support it.”
“Good,” he said. “How about the passenger?”
“He’s a guy your age. Mid-thirties. Blond hair. Soft face. He hasn’t seen and done all the things you have. Before all of this … I bet he was a fast food worker like Wilson. They both have long guns. I see the muzzles sticking up over the seatback.”
“Good eye,” Cade said. He drove in silence as they crossed the short, flat bridge spanning the culvert. Once they were on the south end and the angle on the pickup was better, he said, “Glass them again. You missed one important detail.”
She left the binoculars alone. She said, “I saw him. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Maybe my age.”
“Think it’s Peter?”
She nodded. “Why in the hell would they bring him here?”
Language, Cade thought to himself. Then, in his head he heard Brook say: Choose your battles wisely, Cade Grayson.
He said, “Maybe they didn’t know we were bringing the body back with us.”
“Probably thought you wouldn’t find him alive or dead.”
She’s channeling Brook, thought Cade. And she’s wise beyond her years.
“Maybe he’s training as a junior deputy, or something.”
He said, “Let’s go find out,” and accelerated southbound on 16.
***
In less than a minute Cade was steering off of 16 and onto the grass infield. He parked the larger F-650 broadside to the Tundra and buzzed his window down.
The sheriff’s window was already down and she’d removed her ball cap.
From his elevated perch in the F-650, Cade saw the bespectacled sheriff wore a tan uniform. The pants bore sharp creases. The breast pockets on the blouse were trimmed with dark brown flaps, both ironed flat. MacLeod was stitched in red on the tan fabric strip curling over her left breast. Though the uniform wasn’t standard issue, it said the woman meant business. That she was taking the new position seriously. Cade introduced Raven, then himself. Afterward, acting purely out of habit, he scanned the road all around for threats. All was clear. Just the thrum of the big V-10 keeping them company.
“We’re clear,” MacLeod declared. “Me and Deputy Hunt cleared the roamers off of Main and Center before I called you.”
Cade said, “The hordes sure did a number on Woodruff.”
The sheriff nodded. Grabbing her hat, she said, “Let’s take a walk.”
Cade looked to Raven. Mouthed, “Stay frosty,” as he grabbed his rifle. He pulled his hat down tight on his head and zipped his jacket to his chin.
He met MacLeod on the infield. They were standing on the parcel of ground where the school bus used to reside. Virtually on the same spot where his wife was bitten by the crawler weeks ago.
Now wearing a powder-blue medical mask, MacLeod spoke first. Voice a bit muffled, she said, “Thanks for bringing Dregan back with you.”
“It’s what we do,” Cade said. “He was a friend to us.”
“He spoke very highly of you. Of all of you there at Eden. That’s why I met you here instead of letting you lead the procession of dead south and doing the handoff at Bear River.”
Though Cade had a hunch where this conversation was heading, he looked a question at the sheriff.
Chin upthrust and staring him directly in the eye, she said, “Gregory Dregan has a posthumous request.”
Cade arched a brow.
MacLeod said, “He just asks that you honor his father’s wishes and take his brother, Peter, back to Eden with you.”
Cade said nothing. Shifted his weight and stared out at the Bear River Range.
“He’s just turned thirteen. He needs to be around kids his age,” the sheriff pleaded. “Bear River is made up of childless young people and people my age. Most of them drink to pass the time. Nearly all of them are sick with the flu right now.”
Looking to the Tundra, Cade asked, “Is he sick?”
She shook her head. “He isn’t running a temp. And he’s been isolated from the population. Alexander made sure of that. Then Gregory stayed away once he got really sick.”
“Gregory turned last night?”
MacLeod nodded. “Peter doesn’t know yet. First his uncle succumbs to the flu. Then his dad goes on the suicide mission. I couldn’t do that to him. So … mostly he’s been drawing and reading comic books in his room. He’s a talented artist.”
Cade clasped his hands behind his neck. Staring at the gray sky, he spun a slow three-sixty.
“I’ll get him,” MacLeod said.
“Help me with the body first. It’s going to take the three of us.” Cade paused and stared her in the eye. “The boy can’t view the body.” Whispering, he added, “Dregan tried to end it himself and failed. The Zs ate most of the left side of his body before he turned. It’s going to give me nightmares. I’m sure of it.”
“We’ll have Peter stay in the truck, then.”
Looking the sheriff in the eye, Cade said, “Nobody but us needs to know how Dregan went out. Understood?”
She nodded solemnly.
It took Cade, MacLeod, and her deputy, Hunt, working together, to transfer the limp, dead weight from the Ford to the Toyota.
Finished, Deputy Hunt walked Peter to the Ford. In the officer’s hands were two bulging sports bags. Halfway to the Ford, Peter broke away and ran back to the Tundra. He threw down the tailgate, crawled into the load bed, and wrapped his arms around his father’s tarp-shrouded corpse.
MacLeod allowed Peter a couple of minutes to mourn. Then she gave him a medical mask and escorted him to the Ford.
Cade and Raven had already mounted up, Peter’s bags were stacked on the back seat, and the passenger’s side rear door was hanging open.
Before buzzing his window up, Cade said, “Oh yeah. I almost forgot.” He reached across the space between the trucks and handed MacLeod the safety-orange Screamer. He gave her a quick primer on how to activate and deactivate the compact device.
“Just like the Pied Piper, eh?”
“Keeps them locked on you,” Cade promised. “It’s loud as hell though. If you don’t have a pair already, I’d fashion some earplugs out of something.”
MacLeod flashed him a thumbs-up. She pulled the mask to her chin. “Thank you,” she said and started the Tundra rolling toward 16.
Cade watched the pickup turn left at the juncture and drive slowly up the gently sloping stretch of 39. Once the Tundra was out of sight, he wheeled the Ford in a big sweeping one-eighty, bounced onto 16, and drove north toward Woodruff.
Chapter 32
State Route 39
The hidden gate to the Eden compound’s feeder road was hinged open and Wilson was working the 4Runner through a stilted three-point turn.
Stopping with the bumper pointing down the feeder road, he threw the transmission to Park, set the brake, and leaped from the cab.
Wilson started spouting orders at once. “Tran, grab a leg. Taryn, you get the other.” Hooking his fingers under Sasha’s armpits, Wilson stared down into her green eyes. A cold ball forming in his gut, he said, “Hang in there. You’re going to be fine.”
“Don’t lie to me, Wilson. You don’t know that. You’re not a nurse. All of the nurses are dead or gone,” she reminded him. “So I’m pretty much effed.”
Tran said, “Best to be positive, Miss Sasha.”
Taryn said, “On one,” and began counting down from three.
They lifted Sasha onto a tarp spread out in the cargo area. Wilson climbed in and pulled the tarp until Sasha was clear of the rear-hatch door.
“Close it up,” he said to Taryn. “Tran … radio Seth and have him meet us at the RV. Have him bring water and blankets.”
Three minutes later, after closing the gate to 39 and negotiating the middle gate, the SUV was parked beside the RV with the motor stilled.
Wilson slid from behind the wheel and alit on the soft ground. He looked all around. “Where’s Seth?”
Taryn shrugged.
As Tran was plucking the radio from a pocket to hail Seth, Max came roaring across the clearing. He was bounding through the tall grass, showing above the bent stalks and then disappearing momentarily. As he drew near, it became obvious his white muzzle was stained red.
Blood, Wilson thought as all hell broke loose across the clearing.
***
Forty-five miles north of the 16/39 junction, Jamie was pulling the Raptor onto the cement pad fronting the brown house on Bear Lake’s southern shore. She stopped a foot shy of the garage and shut the truck down.
In the Raptor’s load bed, Lev was sitting between the passenger’s side wheel well hump and tailgate. His back was pressed to the sheet metal and his M4 rested across his extended legs. On his face was a pained expression. He wiped away beaded sweat with a sleeve, only to feel more appear seconds later.
“What is this place?” asked the woman who called herself Fiona. The three kids were huddled around her. Clinging to her, actually. Strangely, during the short ride from the cul-de-sac to the lakeside house, they hadn’t gravitated toward either of the male survivors. As Lev expected, they had stayed as far away from him as possible and avoided eye contact—until now.
Now the kids were wide-eyed and staring at him. They seemed eager to hear what the man with the big gun had to say.
“It’s a safe place,” Lev answered. “The owners were either moving in or out when the crap started. The garage is full of boxes and some furniture. Carpet upstairs is plush. You’ll have great visibility. And there’s a rowboat lashed to the dock out back.”
The woman listened but didn’t reply.
“I’m Michael,” said Parkour Guy. He stuck out his hand.
In too much pain to move, let alone reach across the load bed, Lev shot the man an abbreviated salute. “I’m Lev. Jamie is our chauffeur.”
Bearded Guy had been staring at Lev for the duration of the ride. All of a sudden, when Lev introduced himself, the man perked up and wagged a finger in the air. “I know you. You set me free from Adrian’s people.” Forgoing the handshake, he added, “I’m Payton. My dad was a big Colt’s fan. Owned a diner Archie used to frequent occasionally.”
Lev nodded. He grimaced as the slight head bob resulted in a fresh explosion of pain at the base of his spine. Thr
ough clenched teeth, he asked, “Do you remember my friend? The tall guy?” He was being vague about the details on purpose.
Eyes misting over, Payton said, “Rasta-looking black dude. I’ll never forget him.”
Jamie was standing beside the truck and playing peek-a-boo with the youngest of the three kids. Hearing this, she looked to Payton. “Have you seen him since?”
Payton grabbed at his beard as he shook his head. “Nope,” he said, “After he freed me, I took off to find Fiona and the kids. I was worried sick about them.”
Remembering how the kids had seemed a bit aloof toward the men, Lev asked, “So they’re your kids?”
Hands up in mock surrender, Payton said, “No, sir. Michael and I were thinking about adopting before all this happened. Now … I wouldn’t wish that on anybody. This world is no place to raise a kid.”
“I took it upon myself to raise them,” Fiona said. “The littlest, Sabrina, is mine.” She patted the other kids on the head one at a time, saying, “Harley … he’s six. Quinn here is nine. They’re siblings.”
Michael said, “She’s the bravest woman I know. Killed one of Adrian’s watchers and spirited the kids away. We all met up at this little drive-in not too far from here. Some of Adrian’s people caught me and Payton there.” He pointed to Fiona. “She shot her way out and made it back to the kids. When me and Payton came back to the cul-de-sac to look for food, Fiona was already there with the kids.”
Lev asked, “Adrian was already gone?”
Nodding, Payton said, “Her people must have come and took her down minutes after you and the others left.”
“Daymon wanted to kill her,” stated Lev. “He was overridden because another of our people wanted her to get bit and turn. So she could spend a little Hell on Earth time.”
“And we all know how that ended up,” Jamie interjected.
“Adrian always referred to the cul-de-sac as her Satellite Outpost,” Fiona said. “It was unfinished when you attacked. I bet they just decided to abandon it and go back north and lick their wounds.”
Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse (Book 13): Gone Page 21
