Reason To Live

by C. M. Wright

  “Honey, you okay?” he asks me.

  I give a slight shake of my head and wrap my arms tight around his waist.

  We hold each other for a few more moments until I pull away and say, “Let's go talk to the others. Maybe together we can think of something.”

  Each of us keep an arm around the other as we walk back to the group. When we arrive, I open the back door of one of the trucks and hoist myself up on the seat. My body feels drained. I just wish I could sleep and wake to find this all to be just a horribly bad dream.

  Yeah, that particular wish is one that I've wished for often. Hasn't come true yet.

  “Let's come up with a plan, people!” Will calls out just loud enough for the ones furthest away to hear. They all immediately move closer to us and no one makes a sound. After waiting for them to gather and settle in, Will asks if they have any ideas.

  The sudden noise of everyone talking at once makes me jump and my eyes actually feel as if they're rolling as panic rushes through me. Realizing the noise isn't a zombie-fight, but in reality, the big mouths of most of whom are my own relatives, my frantically beating heart begins to slow a bit.

  “Shut the hell up!” I scream, and then slap my hand over my mouth.

  With my eyes bulge in even more fear as I quickly scan the area as far as I can see. The others seem to finally remember the reason being quiet is such a necessity, and begin to search for the undead and marauders as well.

  Not seeing anything yet, I lower my hand and say, “You all can't be doing that shit. Jesus!”

  A chorus of apologies are quietly exchanged, and then everyone settles back down. Dad Rex raises his hand to signal that he has something to say, and Will nods his head in acknowledgment.

  Just loud enough for us to hear him, Dad begins to tell us an idea he's had brewing. “I say we follow them discreetly, and find out where they're holed up. Then we watch and learn before going in so that we know what we're up against.”

  “What? No! I am not going to just sit on my ass and watch while those bastards do God only knows what to Vicki,” Nick glares at my dad and I tense up, expecting him to slam a fist into my dad, which won't end well for Nick.

  “Nick!” I hiss at him. “You need to calm your ass down right now. It was a suggestion of a plan, and a fairly good one, which is more than you've come up with. What the hell do you think will happen if we just rush these people without knowing what kind of weapons they have? And you know they have them. Do you want to save Vicki, or get her killed because of your impatient stupidity?”

  I watch Nick as his anger begins to consume him, turning his flesh a bright blood red.

  “Nick, you've got to stop thinking with your emotions and start thinking strategically. All of us could be killed, but Vicki especially. I know you don't want that.”

  Nick's body shakes from his rage, but after a few long moments, he finally lets out a whoosh of air and his shoulders droop as he realizes I'm right. Cindy pulls him down on the ground to sit next to her, then wraps an arm around his shoulders in an attempt to comfort him.

  I look directly into each of the faces that stare back at me, wondering if I will soon be mourning any of them, or if they will soon be mourning me.

  Again.

  No one else can offer a better plan, so we all load up and begin to follow the line of trucks, but from a very safe distance. Before we'd even driven half a mile, all the trucks in front of us suddenly come to a stop in the middle of the road. I instruct Will to lead our group into the trees next to the road just in case they hadn't spotted us yet like I'm worried they have.

  Our vehicles are sitting at a slight incline to the trucks we've been following. I get out of the truck and raise one of the rifles with a scope up to my eye. I can clearly see that the female is Vicki, and that the big guy in the backseat is definitely not being gentle with her.

  I tighten my finger on the trigger of the gun, and in a calm voice, give an order to the others, “Plans have changed. Kill the drivers.”

  All of our guns go off almost at the same time and I watch as glass shatters, blood sprays and the drivers' lives end. We start down the hill with guns ready, but freeze when a shot comes from below. None of us have been hit, or even close to it, and no further shots are heard.

  We know their shock and confusion will help us, so we rush toward the vehicles. It doesn't take us long to surround the trucks, and not a single shot has been heard since that last random shot. Nick quickly rushes to the truck with Vicki inside, so Will and I take the next vehicle.

  I open the back door and see a young man attempting to shield a few others with his body, another young man sitting with his hands up in surrender, and an older man with most of his head blown away, and it's not one of the drivers I'd ordered to be shot. I check to be sure they hadn't moved the driver to the back, but see him lying on his side, dead on the front seat.

  I take it all in while Will covers me with his gun. I briefly wonder if the bullet had possibly gone through the driver and hit the other man, but honestly, I really don't give a damn.

  “Out. Nice and slow,” I snarl at the men inside the truck.

  The man holding his hands up slides out the door and leans on the side of the truck with his hands still up. The other man lifts himself from the others and backs out, butt first until he reaches the end of the seat. Then he lets his legs drop and turns to me, before standing next to the first man. When the people who had been under him raise their heads, my eyes widen as recognition hits us all.

  They cry out my name and burst out of the truck. I take a step back when Amy tries to hug me, as I'm not quite sure I believe that Nick was right about her. I still have some doubts that she wasn't deliberately trying to get rid of me.

  I study the other two men and listen as Eric explains that they had broken down and these guys had offered to help them; but he believes they'd really planned on killing them, my family, and taking everything we'd worked so hard for instead. I never take my eyes off the guy who had been covering them, protecting them.

  If what Eric says is true, then why would he do that?

  As I continue to study him, and try to figure out why my gut is telling me he's not the bad guy he seems to be, the other trucks are emptied of people. The voices of my people and the others are filtered in, but my attention is mostly on the situation in front of me. When Eric informs me the man – No! Boy. He's just a boy! – is the nephew of the leader of this group of monsters and also the second in command, I glare at the boy as I listen. Then when I'm informed that the dead man in the backseat was the leader, I really pay attention to the kid. He doesn't look as if he wants to kill me or get revenge because I, not only killed his leader, but also his own flesh and blood.

  To be honest, he just looks...blank.

  “What's your name, kid?” I ask him.

  “Sandro. Alessandro,” he responds in an automatic tone.

  “Are you a killer, Sandro?”

  He stares back at me for a few moments before answering, “Yes, Ma'am.” His voice holds no remorse or even shame. He still sounds like he's functioning on automatic.

  “Did you enjoy killing the people you killed, Sandro?”

  Again, a few long moments pass before he answers me. “Yes, Ma'am. I most certainly did.”

  A little more emotion this time, although not with pride or even shame.

  I wait for him to defend himself, or say something more to explain, but he doesn't. He just stands with his hands at his sides, relaxed even. His demeanor gives me a chill.

  I turn away from him and throw an order back to Will, “Kill him.”

  I slowly turn back around when Eric bellows, “No!” and find him standing in front of the kid, preventing him from being shot. The other kid who had been standing beside Sandro this entire time with his hands still up, now stands in front of both Eric and Sandro, begging us not to kill him.

  “Canada, he killed his uncle and protected us,” Eric argues loudly.

  The
other guy finally speaks up and says, “The only other person he killed was just as bad as his uncle, if not worse. If Sandro hadn't killed him, he would have killed Sandro, and I know he's killed hundreds of innocent people. Please, lady, Sandro's not a bad person. All he wanted to do was survive so that he could save us all. There are many more being held captive than you can imagine.”

  I stare at Sandro as he stares back at me. Finally, a tear runs slowly down his cheek and I feel a little better that the kid isn't as ruined as I'd thought. I shout to Gage and Dad Ben to come secure the two kids inside one of the trucks, and begin to walk toward Nick and Vicki. Will grabs my arm and pulls me behind an empty truck, his anger very evident on his face and by the strength of his grip on my arm.

  He jerks me to a stop then turns me to face him. Backing me up against the truck, he lets me have it in a low scary tone.

  “If you ever order me to kill a kid again, any kid, you and I are going to have problems. I don't know who the hell you think you are, but this shit won't fly. I'm not your bitch and I'm not killing a damn kid just because you say so. You got me?”

  I stare into his once brown eyes, but which are now a dark black with anger. I feel a chill start in my toes and move up into my hair, making it itch. I grin at him as I run my hands up his chest and lock them around his neck.

  “Don't be pissed, Will. I gave you the order because I knew you wouldn't kill him, but I needed to see him react. I needed to know he wasn't a machine, that he was still human. If I had wanted him dead, I would have done it myself.”

  Will's body remains tight with anger for a few minutes as he thinks about what I said. Finally, he begins to relax and his breathing comes a little easier.

  “Woman, you freaking drive me crazy, you know that?”

  “I know, but do you know how damn sexy you are when you're pissed?” I grin as I look up into his eyes, and grin even wider when he begins to turn red from embarrassment and rolls those particular eyes.

  “So. You're not my bitch, huh?” I ask him in a low purr.

  He nods and closes his eyes when I begin to kiss his neck and make my way up to his earlobe where I nip the soft flesh a few times. His breathing becomes quick and fast as I move my hands to his ass and squeeze as I pull him even closer to me.

  “So,” I whisper into his ear, “Tonight, if I order you to get naked and let me lick you all over, you'll fight me?”

  Will groans and I press my lips against his. Then I push my tongue between his lips and give his mouth a very intense, long, and sensual kiss. When his body begins to sway a bit, I push him lightly away from me and smirk as I look into his glazed and dazed eyes, which are now brown again, but very unfocused.

  “Admit it, Will. You are my bitch,” I tease him.

  Will begins to deny it, but then admits grudgingly, “Alright, fine. When it comes to that kind of shit, yeah, I'm your bitch. But anything else, I'm not.”

  He reaches for me, ready for another kiss, but I manage to move just in time and he crashes into the truck. I laugh as I walk away and hear his growls and curses as he's one-upped by his wife, once again.

  Chapter Two

  Before I'm even halfway to the truck Nick had pulled Vicki from, Vicki attacks me. I first hear a squeal that tears through my skull, which is quickly followed by arms, a filthy and sweaty body, and a mass of unwashed blond hair. I grab hold and just hang on. Not much else you can do.

  “Canada! Oh my god, I missed you so much. I thought we were gonna die so many times, and these people,” Vicki lowers her voice and speaks right into my ear, “Somehow, they know a lot about you and your place.”

  I jerk away from the tickle of her breath in my ear and look her up and down. She's fine; no worries there. Then I realize what she'd said and narrow my eyes as my lips turn into a smirk.

  “Hmm, I wonder how they could have possibly learned so much,” I tell her sarcastically.

  The sarcasm totally misses its mark though, and she solemnly shakes her head. “I'm sorry to have to say this, but I think you might have a spy on the inside. I'm so sorry.”

  I stare incredulously at the girl, my mouth open wide in shock at just how clueless I'd forgotten she can be.

  Wow. Just...wow.

  Fortunately, Nick saves me from the madness by pulling Vicki into his arms and laying one on her. She visibly swoons as I still stand there staring at her, still in confusion and shock. Finally, Nick notices me and gets me to moving again.

  “Canada, do you need a kiss too?” He puckers up and laughs when I grimace and walk away. I hear Vicki start in on him, and I can't help but toss back a laugh of my own over my shoulder to Nick when I hear the inevitable slap sound.

  Poor Nick will never learn.

  I notice my group has gotten the rest of the marauders secured and separated as much as possible into the vehicles. We're taking their trucks too, no use wasting perfectly good vehicles and fuel. I find the truck holding Sandro and nudge a couple of my family members out of the way so I can see him. Cindy is currently cleaning up the blood shed by his uncle and plastered all over him, and I begin to see signs that he has been abused quite badly. When she raises his shirt, I bite back a gasp at the horrible damage done to him. Cindy remains calm and says nothing to give away the horror of his wounds, but I don't miss the tears welling up in her eyes.

  His torso is one big dark bruise and obvious lashes from a whip have left deep bloody welts across his stomach, arms and chest. When he turns, his back is no better, and I even see the perfect print of a boot just above where his jeans sit.

  My heart aches for the kid, and I know I have to learn more about him. I wait until Cindy is done, then I ask her to please go check the others. She nods and blinks away her tears for the boy, then heads to the next person.

  I slide into the backseat with Sandro and pull the door shut. Sandro scoots away and stares at the back of the front seat, his fear strong enough to smell.

  “You gonna kill me now?” he asks me.

  I study him for a bit, then ask, “Should I?”

  He finally turns and looks at me, but only for a brief moment. He ducks his head and mumbles, “Probably. I've been trained to kill, to hurt people. I've done both.”

  “How does that make you feel?” I ask him, then turn my head so he can't see me as I roll my eyes.

  I sound just like my shrink and it always pissed me off when he would say that.

  “I don't know. Bad, I guess.” I give him time to rethink his answer. “Actually, no, I don't feel bad. I don't like that I've killed anyone, but I had to. I had to so that I could save myself, and everyone else. I don't feel bad. I'm sorry.”

  I burst out laughing and he stares at me wide-eyed, pressing his back against the door to get further away from me.

  I stop laughing but keep a smile on my face. I turn so that I'm sitting sideways in the seat facing him, but I still keep the distance he so desperately needs.

  “Look, kid. Don't ever apologize for wanting to live – for wanting to save others. Do you know how many people I've had to kill?”

  He immediately responds, “A lot.”

  “What? No! Not a lot, but I have had to kill a few. This is a whole different world now, Sandro. We don't have law enforcement who can protect us. We've got to do it ourselves, but some just can't do it. So the ones who can, protect the ones who can't. What your uncle did to you was wrong, no question, but he might have actually done something to help you too.”

  Sandro jerks his eyes to mine and I can see the question he hasn't asked.

  “Yes, Sandro. The ability to kill without letting a lot of emotions make you hesitate, just might save, not only your own life, but that of the others you care so much about. That's not something very many people can do, and that's why so many of us won't make it as long as we could.”

  I let him think about that for a few moments, then say, “Sandro, I want you and your friends to join our community. You have a choice, I would never force you, but I think we would be be
neficial to you and your friends, just as you will all be beneficial to us. Of course, there are others who will have to agree to let you all stay with us, but I think your chances are good.”

  I watch as he turns his head and stares out the window. I know I shouldn't push him, and I won't.

  “Think about it and talk to your friends. We'll be leaving within the hour.” I open the door and step out.

  Before I close the door again, I tell him, “You can get out. Go talk to your friends.”

  Then I walk away to gather my group so we can make plans. Before I get too far, Sandro's voice stops me.

  “Hey!”

  I turn in time to see him come around the back of the truck and hurry toward me.

  “No matter what we decide, we need you and your group's help. There are people back at the Krew's base, innocent people. I made a promise to each of them that I would save them, and I will. With or without your help, but it would be a hell of a lot easier if you all would help me. Gabe's little sister is there too. At least, we think she is. We haven't seen her in almost a year, not since our first day there.”

  I swallow back the fear that she's no longer alive and instead focus on the situation. “How many people do you think are being held captive?”

  “I'd say at least two hundred.”

  “Two– Holy shit!” I gape at him in shock, then recover quickly. “How many of your uncle's men are there?

  “A hundred and seven. That's not counting the ones you all killed today or my group.”

  “Son of a–” I spin away from him and begin to pace. “That's a lot of fucking people, Sandro! That's a lot of men to have to get through. Shit!”

  My heads spins as I imagine all the things that could go wrong in the rescue attempt. Sandro becomes agitated at my own agitation and I finally notice. I stop in front of him and force myself to breathe and calm down. My group has obviously noticed that something is wrong and begin to form a circle around us. Will's at my side, cradling his gun across his chest.

  I look deep into Sandro's eyes to let him know how serious I am when I say, “We'll help you, Sandro. We'll get them out.”