Dead South | Book 4 | Dead Love

by Bohannon, Zach

  "So, we've already discussed the option of going and getting rid of Malcolm," Brooke said. "And we can talk more about what that would look like. But I think we also have to consider leaving."

  Crossing his arms, Raylon rolled his eyes. He let out an audible sigh of frustration.

  "I'm only saying we need to discuss it,” Brooke said. “We should explore every option and put everything on the table."

  Jon listened as his friends talked about the different options. Terrence felt strongly that the group should leave the area. Citing how the weather would shift soon and it would get cold near the mountains, he suggested they make their way to Georgia or Florida. Internally, Jon had considered this option, as well. Marcus had told him where Los Muertos were headed to, and they could try to meet up with them. At least they'd be heading somewhere that they knew they had allies. It was definitely something they'd need to think about.

  Raylon, on the other hand, wanted to stay and fight. He was sure he could convince Lennox that he'd been in the wrong, thinking that turning Jon over to Malcolm had been the only solution. In fact, Raylon made the argument that Lennox might already be in that mindset since Raylon had made such a firm stance over sticking with the Hope's Dawn survivors instead of returning to Freedom Ridge.

  Through it all, Brooke chimed in occasionally, but Jon remained silent. It wasn't until the debate hit a wall that Brooke turned to Jon again.

  "You've been quiet," she said. "What are you thinking?"

  All three of Jon's friends looked at him. Clasping his hands together, he stared down at the ground as he considered the options. Each had its own advantages and disadvantages, and his counterparts had made respectable arguments for each. But Jon had to go with his gut.

  Looking up again, Jon hopped off the hood of the car. He glanced at the faces of the three people in front of him.

  "I can't in good conscience leave this area right now, knowing that psychopath is here terrorizing everyone." Jon looked at Raylon. "If I were you, I wouldn't leave family behind, either. Especially that little girl. But either way, Malcolm has to die, whether we have the help of Freedom Ridge or not."

  "I agree," Brooke said.

  Jon next looked at Terrence. Raising his eyebrows, Jon nodded for his response, waiting for the approval or disapproval to come from him. "We aren't doing this unless all four of us are on board," Jon said.

  Terrence shook his head, looking down at the ground. Then, he looked up with a slight smile on his face. "What the hell am I supposed to say? Yeah, I'm in."

  Raylon clapped his hands. "Hell yeah. So, let's figure out how we're going to do this."

  "In the morning," Jon said. "We should rest for the rest of the night. We're going to need it."

  Figuring out how to handle Black Hill was going to be the hardest part, but Jon knew they didn't have any other options.

  Malcolm had to die, whatever the cost.

  12

  Brooke ran her hand through her son's hair as he drifted off to sleep. Using the blankets from the bed she'd be sleeping in, she'd made a pallet for him on the floor next to her. It was possible that she would be cold that night as a result, but she didn't care. All that mattered to her was that her son would be safe and comfortable, and that they were together.

  When she knew Lucas had fallen into a deep sleep, she gently slid his head off of her lap and pushed herself up. The boy didn't awaken, and she stared down in his direction. Though it was difficult to see him with no light, she knew he was there, and she listened to his heavy breathing as he dreamed.

  A knock came at the door then, and she went and opened it, being careful not to wake Lucas. The old door creaked, but not enough to disturb him. Jon stood in the doorway, a candle in his hands illuminating his face.

  "Hey," he said. "I hope my timing is alright. I was scared you were going to be putting him to sleep."

  "It's perfect, actually. He just went down."

  "Good." After a brief pause, Jon said, "I just wanted to check and see how you're doing. I know it's been yet another crazy day."

  "I'm good." Brooke looked around. "This place isn't exactly a house in Beverly Hills, but it'll do for the time being."

  "How are you feeling about going back to Black Hill?"

  Brooke shrugged. "I don't think we have much of a choice. We can't up and leave with that psycho still around. As you said, he's crazy enough that he'd never stop chasing after us."

  The last thing Brooke wanted was to go back to Black Hill. The scars from that place would never leave her. Seeing those men toy with Lucas right in front of her eyes, and with Malcolm allowing the zombie to come within only inches of taking Lucas' life. The psychological torture they'd put her through. And, of course, watching Terrence be beaten nearly to death right in front of her eyes, and then being a witness to Hugo's last moments of life.

  Jon nodded. "I wish there was another way, but there's not. It's what we have to do." After another moment of silence, Jon said, "Well, like I said, I just wanted to check—"

  "Will you stay with me tonight? With us, I mean—me and Lucas?"

  Jon said nothing, only nodding. He entered the room and set the candle down on the dresser. He took off his long-sleeved shirt, keeping on his pants and undershirt. With no blankets on the bed and the window open to air out the aroma, Brooke had kept all of her own clothes on.

  The two got into the bed, lying on opposite sides. But Brooke didn't hesitate to move over, backing herself up to Jon. He wrapped his arm around her, and the two said nothing to one another.

  Brooke closed her eyes, reveling in the comfort of Jon being next to her, and she drifted off to sleep as the sounds of chirping crickets came through the open window.

  At least there aren't zombies screaming out there, was her last thought as she drifted off to sleep.

  When Brooke opened her eyes the next morning, the sun was already up and coming in through the window. She rubbed her eyes and reached down to her stomach, not feeling Jon's arm wrapped around her anymore. She rolled over to see him, but he wasn't there. Instead, Lucas had moved up onto the bed next to her. She smiled, running her hand through her son's hair as he lay there, still sleeping. Then, she pushed herself out of bed without waking her son and left the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.

  She walked downstairs and saw Lisa, the quietest woman in the group, sitting in the living room by herself. Lisa pointed toward the back door. "They're outside. I think they're waiting for you."

  "Thanks."

  Brooke yawned, still trying to wake up as she reached back to throw her hair into a ponytail. She pushed her way through the back door and saw Jon, Raylon, and Terrence hanging around the same spot where they'd met the night before. Jon was even sitting on the hood of the same car.

  "Good morning," she said.

  The three men waved at her, each one obviously tired. Because of the smell and the dirtiness of the place, she doubted they'd slept well. She had somehow ignored that, likely because she'd been so thankful to have Jon next to her, and because she'd known her son was safe. But even she knew she couldn't handle too many more nights there, and that they'd have to find somewhere else soon, or even better, be taken back in by Lennox and the people at Freedom Ridge.

  "We've only been out here about ten minutes," Jon said to Brooke, "but we've been chatting about a few things."

  "Okay. What have you got?"

  "At some point, Raylon is going to go back to Freedom Ridge," Jon said. "Try to talk some sense into Lennox."

  "But we can't bank on him coming around to doing the right thing," Terrence said.

  "I think he will," Raylon said. "But until we're sure, we also need to come up with a back-up plan. We don't want this group to get caught in another predicament."

  "We need food, and we need guns," Jon said. "We're going to have to teach the others to shoot."

  "Everyone had some firearms training at Hope's Dawn," Brooke said, "but they could probably use a refresher. Those women haven't h
ad to fight very much."

  "We should split up and try to tackle both tasks at once," Raylon said. "I can walk across the road and go hunt. That way, whoever's going to go look for weapons can take the van."

  "I can get out and go help hunt," Terrence said.

  "Are you sure?" Jon asked.

  Terrence nodded. "I'm going to go nuts if I hang around here and sit on my ass much longer. I'm feeling a lot better after sleeping last night and finding some aspirin in the cabinet."

  Raylon stuck his hands out to his sides. "That still leaves the question of where we're going to find guns and bullets."

  "I'm already one step ahead of you," Brooke said. She looked at Terrence, then at Jon. Terrence's face was the first to light up.

  "Of course!"

  She looked at Jon next, realizing it was still taking him a moment.

  Brooke then raised her eyebrows and said, "They might've burned down the houses in Hope's Dawn, but they didn't burn under the ground."

  13

  Jon could feel the tension emanating off of Brooke from the passenger's seat. He tried to focus on the road in front of him, but couldn't help noticing how uncomfortable she was. He glanced over to see her staring out the window with her chin in her hand. She was tired. They were all tired. Jon wondered if there would ever come a day when things would be normal again. What the hell would 'normal' even look like, though? He didn't know, but he hoped they could create some kind of new normal once Malcolm was out of the picture.

  But he was done trying to predict the future. He could try to analyze what tomorrow would look like, but once it came, the day would look him in the eyes and tell him to go fuck himself. That's how it had been lately, at least. Tomorrow was nothing more than an unrelenting force with the sole purpose of trying to bring Jon down. Still, he was determined to stare it down and persevere, no matter what was thrown his way.

  He had to. For himself, for his friends, and most of all, for Brooke and Lucas.

  That weight he felt coming from Brooke grew even heavier, the closer they got to Hope's Dawn. She hadn't been back to the camp since she'd been knocked unconscious and dragged away by Malcolm's people.

  Of course, Jon had been back, and he wondered if Brooke would be prepared for the devastation she'd witness.

  As they approached, Brooke looked up and out the windshield. She removed her hand from her chin and simply stared.

  Jon placed his hand on her leg for a moment before grabbing her hand. She gripped it tight, her palm clammy and slick in his. But he squeezed, vowing to be there for her.

  He held her hand all the way through what had once been the front gates of Hope's Dawn. The grip on his hand tightened as he brought the van to a stop just inside of the camp.

  Coming back wasn't even easy for Jon, but that's not what he was concerned about. In this moment, he wasn't even concerned about finding the guns. All of his focus was on Brooke.

  Letting go of his hand, she opened the passenger side door and got out of the van. Brooke's eyes never wandered; she only stared out in front of her.

  Jon exited the van, leaving the door open as he stepped around in front of the hood. He stopped there, watching as Brooke trudged into what had once been Hope's Dawn, the place she had helped build and had called home when society had come to an end.

  Now, it was nothing more than a pile of bricks and wood. And she was seeing it in this state for the first time.

  When Brooke had wandered some fifteen yards from the van, she stopped. Her head didn't move from side to side—she only looked out ahead of her.

  Jon wanted to call out to her. He wanted to go to her. But he decided it was best to simply give her her space. So, in lieu of doing anything else, he stayed back and watched her. But he could feel a certain tension in the air, and he was worried for her.

  Then, she hit the ground, falling down onto her knees. Jon ran to her.

  She was crying, and Jon realized it was more than from only seeing the destroyed camp. A few feet in front of her, Jon noticed a pair of legs hanging out from under some rubble.

  Jon dropped to a knee and wrapped his arms around Brooke. He pulled her into his chest, turning her head away from the devastation. She cried as Jon held her, letting her get it out. Comforting her, he ran his hands through her hair.

  It took her a few moments, but she calmed down. She breathed steadily and wiped her eyes as she pulled away from Jon and stood up.

  "You alright?" Jon asked. "If you need to, you can go sit in the van. I can load the stuff on my own."

  "We can't leave them here."

  Jon's brow furrowed. It took a moment for it to settle in, what she was saying, but then he knew.

  "We have to bury them," Brooke said.

  14

  Brooke stared down at the eight lumps on the ground, observing from where she leaned on her shovel's shaft. Her hands burned, but she knew they would hurt worse later. Right now, pain was the last thing on her mind. All she could think about was how so many of her friends had been needlessly slaughtered.

  At least now they can rest in peace.

  It had taken at least an hour to find everyone and move their bodies to the burial site, and that was only for the people they'd found. She knew more lay under the debris, and that she and Jon wouldn't be able to take the time to find them. It had taken another two hours to dig the shallow holes and bury them.

  Sweat ran down Brooke's forehead and onto her cheek as the pain came. Soreness radiated in her arms, and her body felt tired. But they still had one more thing to do before they could leave Hope's Dawn. The whole reason they'd come was to get into the storage bunker where they kept all the guns.

  Brooke removed her weight from the shovel and let it fall to the ground. "Let's grab the guns and get out of here."

  Jon put his hand on Brooke's shoulder. "You sure you're alright?"

  Glancing down at the graves again, Brooke said, "I'm better now."

  She turned and made her way over to her house. The house was one which had mostly survived the fires. The invaders had smashed the windows and broken down the front door. Seeing that concerned Brooke. She hoped the men hadn't found the hidden hatch under the rug in the living room and stolen their guns and ammunition. Brooke didn't know what they would do if the supplies weren't there. Finding weapons in the area would be impossible, meaning that they'd only be left with the option of getting Freedom Ridge on their side if they were going to take out Malcolm.

  Entering through the busted down door, Brooke looked around. While the place hadn't burned down, it had been ransacked it. That didn't surprise Brooke. It would have been stupid of them to come to the camp only to murder, without looking around for resources. She'd already noticed that the people had stolen their food, gasoline, and other essential supplies which had been left out in the open. She held out hope that they hadn't found the weaponry stash.

  As she moved into the living room, she saw the rug still in its place, with the hidden door hatch underneath it. The coffee table on top had been knocked over, though.

  Please still be under there.

  Jon pushed the fallen coffee table out of the way, and Brooke grabbed the edge of the rug. With the table moved, Brooke rolled the rug up and revealed the closed door underneath.

  Brooke stared at it for a moment. It just being closed now meant nothing. It was still possible that someone had gotten inside.

  But she knew there was only one way to find out.

  Bending down, Brooke pulled up on the trapdoor. It creaked as she opened it, the black hole beneath it revealing itself. Without Brooke having to ask, Jon pulled out the flashlight and shined it down into the hole.

  Brooke sighed.

  The guns were there.

  She shifted onto her stomach and reached inside, grabbing the weapons and pulling them out one at a time. She also grabbed boxes of ammunition as she found them by reaching around with her hands.

  "Let me see that flashlight," she said, reaching her hand up towa
rd Jon.

  Jon placed the flashlight into her hand, and Brooke shined it into the hole. She had found all the guns already, but used the light to find a couple more boxes of ammunition.

  Once she knew she'd emptied the space, Brooke pushed herself up. The selection of guns lay on the ground, boxes of ammunition around them. She'd found some rifles, handguns, and even a handful of grenades.

  "This isn't a lot," Brooke said.

  "It's more than what we had," Jon said. "We'll have to make do."

  "We're at least going to need to find more bullets."

  Jon clicked his tongue. "That's not going to be easy. But we'll work with what we've got."

  It wasn't enough. Brooke knew that, and she understood that Jon did, too. But he was right—they'd have to work with what they had. She still hoped Lennox would come around, and then all this would be less of a problem. The weapons they'd found here would be a bonus, but they'd still need the help of Freedom Ridge.

  "Come on," Jon said. "Let's get this loaded up in the van and get back. Something tells me we'll still need to go hunting today. I doubt Raylon and Terrence have caught shit yet."

  Brooke picked up several guns and a few boxes of ammo. Between the two of them, they loaded everything in one trip. Brooke wished that weren't possible, but as Jon had said, it was more than what they'd had before coming back to Hope's Dawn. She was just thankful that Malcolm's people hadn't found them. She hoped to make them regret not checking the place over more thoroughly.

  "You ready to get going?" Jon asked Brooke.

  "Almost." Brooke turned to look at the graves again.

  She walked over to them and stood before the small cemetery she and Jon had made, right where the center of Hope's Dawn had once been. She took several moments to observe each grave, remembering the person who lay under each mound of dirt. Brooke came to Garrett last, who they'd buried in the grave to the far left.