Dead South | Book 4 | Dead Love

by Bohannon, Zach

  "That's not happening," Lennox said, backing up a couple of steps. "This situation with Malcolm might be salvageable, but not if we let you in here. I'm sorry, but while Raylon can stay, the rest of you are on your own." Lennox looked at his cousin. "Come on. We've got a lot to talk about."

  Raylon stepped to the side, putting himself between Jon and Brooke again. Raylon clenched his jaw, his posture stiff.

  Without saying another word, Raylon turned his back to his cousin and started back to the van.

  "Are you serious right now?" Lennox asked after him.

  "Are you?" Raylon snapped back. After a moment of silence between the two men, Raylon said to Brooke and Jon, "Come on. We're leaving. This was a waste of time."

  Jon shifted his gaze from Raylon back to Lennox. The two men shared a dark glance before Jon shook his head and also turned his back to head back to the van.

  "Hold on a second," Lennox said.

  Jon didn't turn around at first.

  "I think you might want to take this with you," Lennox followed up with.

  Jon turned around to see a man rolling his bike through the small crowd at the gate. Jon hesitated, assuming it was some sort of trick.

  "I don't want any evidence that you've even been here," Lennox said.

  The man parked the bike halfway between the van and the entrance to Freedom Ridge. Once it was in place, they headed back into the camp, shutting the gate behind them.

  4

  Holding her son in her lap, Brooke sat in the front seat as Raylon reached the end of the dirt road. He pulled out onto the highway, the van's tires squealing as they peeled out on the pavement. The engine of Jon's motorcycle roared in the open air as he followed the van. Brooke glanced over her shoulder to search the faces of the others in the back of the van.

  Their faces were empty, and Brooke understood. These people had thought they were going to have a new home at Freedom Ridge, only to be shunned at the gates. It frustrated Brooke that Lennox had been so dismissive and, in some ways, selfish. Deep down, Brooke understood the man was trying to protect his own people. But it didn't seem right to push their group away. Hope’s Dawn would never have done that. If there'd been good people who'd needed their help, then Hope's Dawn would have been there for them.

  Brooke next turned her attention to Raylon. Beads of sweat slid past his brown eyes and down his cheek, and Brooke could see how tightly he gripped the steering wheel. She didn't even see him blink.

  "Where are we going?" Rosa asked.

  "There's nowhere for us to go," Leslie said.

  People talked over each other, the three kids in the back growing nervous and borderline hysterical.

  "Everyone, calm down," Brooke said. "We'll figure it out." She glanced over at Raylon. "We should pull over."

  Raylon kept driving, his grip on the wheel seeming to increase.

  "Raylon," Brooke said more sternly, though without yelling.

  Raylon exhaled and slowed down, pulling the van over to the side of the road. Saying nothing to the others, he hopped out of the vehicle. Brooke peeked over her shoulder at Terrence. They shared a worried glance over Raylon. Terrence gestured to the outside of the van, clearly asking Brooke if he should go out there with her. Brooke shook her head. He needed to rest.

  Jon pulled the bike past the van, parking it and getting off. Brooke shifted her son off of her lap so she could slip out.

  "I'll be right back, sweetie." She opened the door and stepped out.

  Raylon had moved several yards away from the van and had his hands on his hips as he kicked at a pile of dirt. The dirt stirred into the air like a mini cyclone, and Jon waited for Brooke to join him before approaching Raylon. Together, they made their way over to their friend.

  "You doing alright?" Brooke asked.

  Raylon didn't respond, keeping his eyes focused out toward the trees.

  "I really appreciate what you did back there," Brooke said. "I know that couldn't have been easy."

  "I don't know what the fuck has gotten into him," Raylon said. "He's not the same person he was before."

  "None of us are," Jon said.

  "I know, but this is different. And I'm really worried it's going to get him and a lot of other people I care about killed."

  "So am I," Jon said. "But for now, we've got to figure out where we're going to go. We've got a van full of worried people in there, including scared kids."

  "I know Malcolm well enough to know he's going to have scout crews crawling all over the place looking for us. Especially after he goes to Freedom Ridge and finds out we aren't there. Jesus." Raylon put his hands in his hair, holding it tight as he looked at the ground. "What the fuck is he thinking? We need to go back."

  "That's not a good idea," Jon said. "Lennox isn't thinking right, and as you said, that's the first place Malcolm and his crew are going to check. We don't want to be lingering around outside arguing when they show up."

  "Do you think Malcolm will attack Freedom Ridge?" Brooke asked Raylon.

  "At this point, I don't have a clue what's going to happen."

  Jon put his hands on his hips. "I know it's hard and that waiting sucks, but the best thing we can do right now is to find somewhere safe that we can regroup. Then, we can figure out what our next move is going to be."

  "But where do we go that they won't be able to find us?" Brooke asked. "Raylon said they're going to be searching all over the area."

  "We’re not leaving," Raylon said. “Now with knowing Freedom Ridge is in danger."

  "We never said we were leaving, Raylon," Jon said. "We just need to think about where we can go."

  An extended silence followed the comment. Brooke knew it was going to be difficult to find somewhere in the area where Malcolm couldn't find them. The man wouldn't stop until he found them and killed them—especially Jon. There were many houses, former businesses, churches, and a slew of other buildings they could go to. But they had to find somewhere off the grid. They had to go somewhere that Malcolm and his people ultimately wouldn't think of checking, or didn't know about to begin with.

  As she thought about the places they could go, she looked over to see Jon grinning.

  "I think I know just the place," he said.

  5

  Malcolm sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor, his eyes closed as he meditated. He focused on every breath, counting each inhale and exhale alike. Anytime Malcolm needed to calm and focus his mind, he could rely on meditation. But he found it hard to focus now. His throat still hurt from where the Savage had nearly choked him out. And when he would briefly open his eyes, simply looking around the room would remind Malcolm of what had happened. He felt hot and irritated, and found it impossible to concentrate. Eventually, he gave in and jumped to his feet.

  After pacing the room for a few minutes, Malcolm sat down on the edge of the bed. He dipped his face into his hands, breathing heavily. Once his breathing slowed, he sat up straight and looked around the room again.

  Some of the furniture remained knocked over from the scuffle. No matter where he looked, he had cause to think about the Savage. He hoped killing the man would alleviate the feeling. Otherwise, he might burn the entire church to the ground just to rid himself of the memories this place now held.

  The longer he sat, the more impatient he became. He needed to get out of the church. He needed to go face his people and assure them he was okay. The last thing Malcolm wanted was any of the people of Black Hill thinking he was weak.

  Standing, Malcolm grabbed his jacket and put it on as he walked toward the door. Before leaving, he went and checked himself in the mirror. He looked tired, no doubt. But the only real sign that he'd been in a fight was the red mark on his throat from where he'd been choked during the night. He didn't want anyone to see that, so he zipped up his jacket, adjusting the collar so that the mark wasn't visible. Then, he headed out the door and into the church's sanctuary.

  Sunlight came in through the windows, lighting up the large sanctua
ry. Malcolm walked down the center aisle toward the front doors, the commotion outside hitting his ears immediately. He wasn't exactly sure what he was walking into when he left the church. Surely, word had spread around Black Hill by now about what had happened. But what would that mean for the morale of his camp and, more importantly for Malcolm, would the incident make people look at him differently?

  He'd have to make sure that wasn't the case.

  Malcolm opened the large double doors of the church and stepped through. He stopped at the top of the church stairs and studied his surroundings.

  To his left, more than a couple dozen people loitered in front of the laundromat. The group appeared to include most everyone who lived in Black Hill. At this time of the morning, however, everyone had jobs to do. The camp couldn't sustain itself, and more than that, Malcolm couldn't keep order unless every individual pulled their weight. The days started early at Black Hill, even before sunrise for some. But no one was working right now because everyone was curious about what had happened in the dead of night while they'd been sleeping.

  He stood at the top of the steps, staring at them. No one had noticed him as far as Malcolm could tell, and he simply watched them. He pondered what they could be chatting about. Were they doubting his leadership? Malcolm had allowed one man—one single man—to break into the camp in the middle of the night and get a dozen people out. Word had obviously gotten around about that by now, but had people learned of Malcolm's failure to kill the Savage? In all likelihood, only Bennett knew about what had happened inside the church, and even he couldn't be stupid enough to talk about it with the others. Although, even if he did, Malcolm wouldn't be able to make an example of him. He needed Bennett in whatever he was going to do to kill the Savage.

  In fact, as he watched the people loitering in the street, Malcolm realized just how much he needed Bennett. He saw homemakers, children, and scrawny men. These people weren't fighters. Malcolm had been lucky to keep up the front after the incident with the Vultures, but with them now essentially gone—aside from the weaker version he had kept going with Bennett—Malcolm wasn't sure how long it would be before outsiders caught onto the ruse.

  But if there was one thing he knew above all, it was that he couldn't show his doubts to the people here at the camp. They couldn't know that he was worried about anything. And, above all, he wanted them to fear him… to always be a bit on edge when he was around.

  He had to show them that now.

  Somewhat self-conscious about the marks on his throat, Malcolm adjusted the collar of his shirt again and marched down the steps. He kept his head up and his eyes focused on the group standing around.

  He'd made it about halfway to them when Corey, one of the men in the group, noticed him. Corey's eyes got big as he turned back to the rest of the group and said something to them, obviously warning the others that Malcolm was coming toward them. It was a pathetic attempt to act like nothing was going on.

  The group grew more nervous as Malcolm approached. He could see it in the way they only sneaked a peek over towards him. A few people scratched their faces or rubbed their arms—sure signs that they were nervous.

  Malcolm kept his eyes forward, his muscles engaged to show his confidence with proper posture. As he got closer to the loitering people, he never changed course to go around them. Instead, they realized he would not move and stepped out of the way, creating a path for the Black Hill leader.

  Other people in the camp showed up in Malcolm's peripheral vision, but he kept his eyes ahead of him. He didn't stop until Bryce and Bennett stepped out onto the road to meet him.

  "We were just coming to update you on the camp," Bryce said.

  "Yeah?" Malcolm asked. "Well, I think I can see all that I need to since everyone is standing around with their fingers up their asses instead of working."

  "Get your asses back to work!" Bennett yelled, not hesitating to put them in their place and appease the group's leader.

  Malcolm heard feet scatter as people scrambled to do as they were told. "Make sure everyone is staying on task," Malcolm said to Bryce. "If you see even one person slacking off, send them to the jail for the rest of the day without food. Make an example. We can't let these people think they can walk all over us because of what happened here last night."

  "Yes, sir," Bryce said.

  Malcolm next turned his attention to Bennett. "Grab two men and a vehicle. Make sure you're armed."

  "Absolutely, sir. Where are we going?"

  Malcolm narrowed his eyes. "We're going to go knock on the door at Freedom Ridge and see if that bastard is there."

  6

  Jon rode down the highway on his motorcycle while the van followed behind him. After what had gone down with Lennox, Brooke had taken over the driving from Raylon. He'd been understandably emotional after their encounter, and likely not in the right headspace to be driving. With Brooke driving, he'd have the chance to calm down some. Hopefully, after they got to where they were going, everyone would have some time to settle down and they could decide what their next move should be.

  There were a few different places that Jon had thought to take the group to, but only one place seemed like the safest in his mind. He hadn't told Brooke or the others about the house he was taking them to. All he knew was that the place was off the grid and had been vacant of people the last time he'd been there. Those two things combined made it the best bet in his mind for where they could hang low for a while.

  Even though Jon had only made the journey to the house a few times, in order to scavenge parts for his bike, the ride was a familiar one. He remembered exactly how to get there, recognizing familiar landmarks such as a fallen speed limit sign just around the last turn before their arrival at the house.

  As he approached the dirt road that led to the house, past the aforementioned tattered road sign, Jon pulled over and waited for the van to pull up beside him. It came up next to him, Brooke looking out the open driver's side window with her arm hanging over the side of the door.

  "This road will take us to the house," Jon said. "But I just wanted to warn you that the last time I was here, there were zombies."

  "How many?" Brooke asked.

  "Half-a-dozen or so," Jon said. "Not so many that I couldn't take them out on my own."

  "But you're sure this place is safe?" Raylon asked. "That it's vacant?"

  Jon nodded. "I've been out here a few different times to grab parts for my bike, and I've never seen anyone out here."

  "Let's check it out," Brooke said. "Worst-case scenario, we have to find somewhere else."

  "Alright, follow me." Jon revved the bike and took off, turning down the dirt path with the rear tire sliding out.

  The house was maybe a half-a-mile down the road. Jon hoped he was right, and that it had remained empty. Considering the poor condition of the place, he assumed it would be. And while Jon didn't think Malcolm's crew would find the place to begin with, if they did happen upon it, it was unlikely they'd believe that Jon and the others would pick this house to stay in when there were so many other better options available in the area. Part of Jon thought they could stay wherever they wanted to simply because Malcolm and his crew could never check all of the houses and buildings around. But he wanted to take extra precautions. He refused to underestimate Malcolm. Also, Jon was familiar with the location of this house and could navigate to anywhere he wanted to go from here.

  As Jon approached the house, he knew for sure that Malcolm's gang wouldn't bother stopping if they happened upon it. He'd forgotten just how much of a dump the place really was. The only reason they might stop was if they noticed all the broken-down vehicles littering the back of the property. But with how tall the grass had grown and the fence surrounding the lot, it would be difficult to see all that. But generally, Jon didn't worry about them coming across the place. It would be perfect for them to hang low for a while.

  He slowed the bike, revving the motor a few times as he turned onto the gravel drivew
ay, which had grass growing between the rocks even though the path was still visible. After driving about halfway down, he stopped. The van pulled up on his left side and Raylon rolled down the passenger-side window.

  Raylon pointed at the house. "This is the place?"

  "This is the place," Jon confirmed.

  "Are you serious?" Samantha asked from the back of the van. "It looks disgusting."

  "Trust me," Jon said, "this is a great option for us. The entire backyard is littered with vehicles. We can hide the van back there, and they'll never know we're here. Besides, it's only temporary."

  "Jon's right," Brooke said. "This place is off the grid, too. I've been on many scavenging missions and never been back here."

  "I've definitely never been here," Terrence added. "And I don't think I would've thought to stop if I rode by."

  "I’ve never been inside, but I’m pretty sure it’s empty."

  Jon said. "I looked through the windows once, but the place was so trashed that I didn’t bother to go in. Based on your reactions, it's doubtful anyone is going to pick this place to squat at. But I guess there's only one way to find out." Jon pointed ahead. "Follow me up here and we'll break into the backyard fence so we can park behind the house and out of sight. Then, we can head inside."

  Jon jumped on his bike and cranked the engine again. He turned the throttle and headed up the driveway. If anyone was inside, they should have known by now, for sure. He couldn't see anyone peeking out the windows, though, so he didn't worry. Honestly, he was more concerned about zombies being inside the house or nearby. The motorcycle would draw any occupant's attention.

  They arrived at the fence. The corpses of the couple of zombies Jon had eliminated previously still lay near the fence. The fence remained broken from where he'd crawled underneath, as well. A chain with a lock on it wrapped around the fence, keeping it secured. Turning around to Raylon, Jon grabbed the bolt cutters they'd used when inside Black Hill.