The gunman turned his eyes to the bearded man and Scab Girl. “Let’s go.”
“Wait!” Summer said, ignoring Krista’s advice to keep silent. A different approach was needed. “We have casualties in the back. At least let us bury them first.” She glanced at Krista with a raised eyebrow, hoping the Security Chief would understand why.
Krista pinched her eyes and sent back a subtle head nod.
The gunman stopped his feet, never taking his aim from Krista, his finger still resting on the trigger. “Fine. Get them out. We don’t need to be ferrying a bunch of corpses anyway. But like I said before, no sudden moves. I’ll shoot if I have to.”
Krista took the lead, setting a path to the transport with her arms raised. Her feet moved with purpose, each foot plant looking measured. If Summer didn’t know better, she would have thought Krista was stalling until she could come up with a plan.
Summer followed a few paces behind, feeling the weight of the gunman’s eyes on her back. She figured he was close, keeping her and Krista where he could see them.
“Hold on a second,” the gunman said as Krista put her hand out to move the hanging tarp on the rear of the truck. “I wasn’t born yesterday. You need to take a step back. Slowly.”
Krista and Summer moved away, giving the man access to the tailgate. He put his hand inside and pried the tarp up, never taking his eyes from Krista.
Just then a snarl of slobber and teeth came up and clamped onto the man’s wrist. The gunman screamed in pain as Sergeant Barkley tore into his flesh.
Krista didn’t hesitate when the gunman dropped his guard to whirl around and deal with the dog. She charged him, then jumped into the air with a fist raised above her shoulder. She brought the blow down hard, hitting the back of his head with a wicked strike. It was sheer violence in action.
The gunman’s face slammed into the upper edge of the metal tailgate, making a ringing sound. His body went limp an instant later, hanging from the tailgate with his wrist stuck in the mouth of Sergeant Barkley.
CHAPTER 2
Krista bent down and snatched the gunman’s weapon from the pavement, then spun to face the Scab Girl and the bearded guy, wondering which one might make a move first. “Freeze!”
Scab Girl kept her snarls in high gear, trying to wriggle herself free from the clutches of the bearded man.
Krista kept the gun aimed at the cannibal, her index finger straight and resting just outside the trigger guard. If she saw so much as a flinch, she’d already decided to shoot them both. Twice to the chest and one to the head—a triple-tap called The Mozambique, something her Drill Sergeant in Basic had preached endlessly. “Better keep your meat-eater in check, or I’ll sic ours on her. Trust me, yours will lose that battle. Sergeant Barkley loves fresh meat. Especially young Scab meat.”
Right on cue, the dog poked his head out from under the tarp, his chin resting on the top of the tailgate, with teeth showing and drool mounting.
Krista couldn’t believe the wounded animal understood exactly what she needed him to do at that moment, all while he was in pain and weak from the knife wound to the hip. “All I have to do is say the word and your pet there is toast.”
“Look, we’re sorry,” the bearded man said. He pointed at the other guy lying on the ground. “The ambush was all Lipton’s idea. He held a gun on us, too.”
Krista gritted her teeth with her jaw sticking out. “Bullshit. You were working together. Coordinated.”
“I’m telling you the truth. Lipton threatened to shoot us if we didn’t go along. We just need some help, that’s all. Lipton is the one who wanted to steal your truck.”
Krista pointed at the blonde with a set of ravenous eyes locked on her. “Yeah, what about her? The last thing on her mind right now is asking for help.”
“It’s just instinct. If you put the gun down, she’ll calm down.”
“Yeah. That’s never going to happen.”
“Trust me. She’s one of the good Scabs.”
“There’s no such thing.”
Summer stepped next to Krista and touched a soft hand on Krista’s forearm. “It’s okay, Krista. Let me handle it.”
“That’s a bad idea, boss. We need to dispose of these three and get back on the road.”
“No, we’re not doing that.”
“Look, they initiated the threat, so now we end the threat. It’s all part of the Rules of Engagement.”
“I know what I’m doing, Krista. It’s time for you to trust me for a change. I’ve spent far more time out in the wild than you. I have a good sense for these things. So right now, I need you to put the gun down. I’ve got this.”
Krista hesitated for a beat, working the scenario through her head. Her brain was telling her to shoot all three of the attackers and leave them to rot, but her sense of duty wouldn’t allow her. She let her gun hand drop to her side. “Yes, ma’am.”
“What’s your name?” Summer asked the bearded man.
“Horton,” he said, turning his eyes to the Scab Girl. He wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “This is Helena.”
“Helena? You gave it a name?” Krista asked, not believing what she was hearing. Or seeing.
“We had to call her something.”
“But Helena? Seriously?”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ll bet.”
“It doesn’t matter, Krista,” Summer said, shooting her a look to back down.
Krista couldn’t help herself, speaking again to Horton, only this time with sarcasm fueling her words. “So, what? You two are a couple?”
Horton took his arm from Helena and moved a step away, standing gingerly on his bad leg. “No. She rescued me when Frost tried to kill me. I owe her.”
Krista smirked. “Okay, that’s a first. A Scab helping a human. Usually, it’s teeth first and then ask questions later.” She let a round of silence hang in the air, then said, “So let me get this straight. She just shows up out of the blue and saves you from Frost.”
“Yes, that’s basically what happened. If it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”
Krista didn’t buy it. Not for a second. “How do you know she’s not a plant? Setting us up for some kind of Scab ambush. We’ve seen it before.”
“She’s not. Her kind is hunting her as well.”
“Why would they do that?”
“My guess . . . because she’s unique. Maybe the only one. Girl, I mean. I’m pretty sure they are going to want her back.”
“Again, hard to believe,” Krista said, flaring an eyebrow at Summer.
Summer motioned to Horton’s leg. “What happened there?”
Horton pointed at the truck. “Frost’s dog.”
Krista laughed. “I’m more impressed with that mutt all the time. That dog has good taste, so to speak.”
Summer turned and shot a look at the gunman lying unconscious on the ground, then back at Horton. “What’s his story?”
“That’s Doc Lipton. Our chief tech.”
“One of Frost’s guys,” Summer said in an affirmative tone.
“Okay, at least I’ve heard of him,” Krista said. “A bit of an asshole, from what I hear.”
“That part is true,” Horton said. “But he also defected from Frost’s camp. In fact, he went out into the cold in search of me.”
Krista thought for a moment about believing him, but then her training kicked in, analyzing the ambush and everything that had happened since she’d stopped the truck. “And yet he held a gun on you and the Scab. I’m sorry, but that doesn’t jive in my book.”
“It was only after we refused to do what he wanted. That’s when he turned on us.”
Krista shook her head but didn’t respond.
“Look, you don’t know Lipton like I do. He’s more than brilliant, but he has the patience of a gnat. When things don’t go his way, he makes bad choices.”
“Apparently,” Krista said. His story seemed a bit over the top. Su
mmer’s face indicated she was cool with his story, but something was off. Krista could feel it.
Horton continued. “Like I said before, this was Lipton’s idea. He was the one holding the gun.”
Krista pointed with her thumb. “Why didn’t you just sick Miss Ugly Teeth over there on him? That would have put an end to the threat.”
“She’s not like that anymore.”
“Yeah, right. So now you’re saying a Scab has had a change of heart. Not buying it.”
“It’s true. Why else would all of us be standing here, together? If she was still all instinct and attack, that would never be the case.”
“Nice try. Sorry. Nobody changes like that, least of all a Scab. Even if she’s the only female, they can’t change their true nature.”
“Look, in the end, the three of us are all on the same side. We need each other. Even Lipton.”
Krista pointed to Summer and then herself. “And that matters to us, how?”
“We have inside information that Edison can use. That has to be worth something, right? All we need is a little help. That’s all. Then we’ll be on our way.”
Krista angled her head to the truck. “Edison didn’t make it.”
“I’m in charge now,” Summer said.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I always liked the Professor.”
“So you’ve met him?” Krista asked, her gut telling her to continue to vet the man’s story.
“Not exactly. But I was part of Fletcher’s security team a few times at the Trading Post. I got a good sense. From a distance type thing.”
Krista studied the man’s face carefully, while searching her memory. “Hmmm. I was there for every monthly meet. I never saw you there.”
“No surprise. I was usually tasked with guarding the vehicles.”
Krista huffed, turning her focus to Summer. “You don’t believe any of this bullshit, do you? He’s obviously lying.”
“I don’t know. Sounds genuine to me.”
Horton continued. “Just so you know, Helena has saved me more than once. Lipton, too. She can sense when the Scabs are about to attack. I’m sure that kind of skill would come in handy for your group. Right?”
Krista peered at Summer, wanting to make sure their new leader wasn’t going to fall for this man’s tricks.
Summer let out a thin smile, her eyes obviously asking for confirmation of the claim.
Krista shook her head at Summer, then returned her attention to Horton. “That’s all fine and well, until she gets hungry. Then what? We can’t have a wild animal running loose in camp, snacking on little kids or whatever.”
“She’s right,” Summer added.
Krista continued, tugging on Summer’s shirt sleeve. “We need to leave. Now. They’re not our concern. We’ve wasted enough time already. We’ve got wounded in the truck, in case you forgot.”
Summer took a few moments before she answered. “Okay, I’ve made my decision.”
Krista brought the gun up, hoping to get the order to terminate all three of them. If nothing else, leave them behind.
Summer once again put a hand on Krista’s arm, pushing it down. “We take them with us so Liz can patch them up. Then we send them on their way with food and supplies. Give them a chance out there. It’s the right thing to do.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“I am.”
“Edison would never have done that.”
“Yes, he would. He would never turn his back on those in need. And neither will we. No matter what side they used to be on. That’s what June would have wanted.”
“That’ll give away our position.”
“Not if we blindfold them.”
“Jesus, Summer. It’s still a huge risk.”
“You can tie them up, if that makes you feel better.”
Krista didn’t answer, only shaking her head. She didn’t have the words.
Summer’s voice turned stout. “You said you’d back me up. Well, right now I need you to back me up. So what’s it gonna be, Krista? Can I count on you, or do I need to make it a direct order? Again.”
Krista didn’t want to agree, but Summer was the boss. There was no denying it, no matter how stupid or risky the decision. In the end, duty called. “The others are not going to like this. Especially bringing back a Scab girl. How are you going to explain that? They’ll never trust her. Or you, after that point.”
“Not sure yet, but I’ll think of something.”
CHAPTER 3
Stanley Fletcher took a step back to allow his new second-in-command, Stan Greco, aka “Dice”, to lower the front bucket of Heston’s backhoe and push the last body into the oversized grave they’d dug with the twenty-four-inch bucket.
Fletcher shook his head, knowing that calling it a body was a stretch. It was more along the lines of a thirty-pound hunk of meat, completely unidentifiable, as were most of the other pieces already in the hole. Many of the parts belonged to friends of his, though it was impossible to know which chunk belonged to which friend.
The Scabs had shredded the men on all three sides of the monthly meet: Heston’s, Frost’s, and Edison’s, using their collective power to destroy almost everyone. It was a strength in numbers approach—their usual tactic.
Or perhaps the correct analogy would be it was a function of physics—an unstoppable force type thing. Fletcher wasn’t sure. Regardless, the Scabs’ sheer, overwhelming numbers had resulted in an army of scrawny muscles and jagged teeth coming together in unison, mowing down everything in their path.
Even if some of his former colleagues had survived, Fletcher wasn’t sure how many of them would have stood behind him when he announced that he was taking over. Some may have stood firm and pledged their allegiance to Frost, even after the man’s early demise.
Either way, Fletcher wanted to grieve for them, but he couldn’t allow his heart to go there. A warrior must continue on. Never show weakness, no matter what happens.
The four-wheel drive John Deere backhoe had done an admirable job cutting through the hard-packed ground behind the command post, near the rear of Heston’s compound.
Its turbo-charged engine and extend-a-hoe upgrade was precisely what they needed to complete the dig. Dice ran the machine with obvious expertise, sitting inside the cab, working the control sticks with ease until the job was done.
“Gotta love life’s little ironies,” Fletcher said in an amplified voice after Dice throttled-down the hydraulic beast, letting the sarcasm bleed through his words.
Dice turned off the engine and unbuckled the seat belt, then got out of the cab and climbed to the ground. “What do you mean?”
“Just last month, I questioned Frost about the extra fuel delivery to Heston. Had I only known then what I know today, I never would have said dick.”
“It was a risk, no doubt. I’m sure there have been plenty of our brothers who wanted to question that man over the years.”
“Slayer’s name comes to mind, for one. Poor bastard.”
“And Horton, too.”
“Roger that.”
Dice nodded. “At least you took action.”
“Almost too late.”
“Hey, we’re the ones still breathing. That’s all that counts, even though things didn’t exactly go according to plan.”
“True. But the first rule of survival is to stay alive. Then regroup and reassess as needed. We accomplished that, at least.”
Dice gave him a fist bump. “Now we just have to convince the others that Frost’s death is a good thing.”
“They’ll fall in line. They won’t have a choice.”
“Are you sure we should rebuild this place?” Dice asked. “With Edison gone, I’m not sure keeping the Trading Post alive is a good idea.”
“There’s still a benefit. If nothing else, it stabilizes things. A return to normal, so to speak. That’s important until we launch Phase Two.”
“I’m still not sure why you decided to use the repellant on Edison’s p
eople. Seems a little counterproductive.”
“Keeping an enemy an enemy enables them to remain hyper-aware. Never a good thing.”
“Ah, you want them to let their guard down. If they think tensions are less now that Frost is history—”
“Roger that. It diffuses their mind-set, providing an opportunity when the time is right.”
Dice paused for several beats, then nodded, his face letting go of the concern. “At least we took care of the biggest problem.”
“An imperfect plan for an imperfect situation.”
“You got that right, boss. On both counts.”
Fletcher smiled, appreciative of Dice’s loyalty and the man’s candor. Both were valuable, more so since he was going to need Dice to rally support within the remaining ranks. There would be resistance. That much he expected, but Dice had the ear of the others, secretly laying the groundwork for weeks, ever since Frost tipped his hand.
Fletcher walked alongside Dice as they walked to their vehicles parked to the east, his mind slipping into analysis mode.
No matter what history might say about Simon Frost and the way he managed his men, their former commander was never afraid to charge ahead and complete a deal he’d made.
That part of his reputation had remained intact until his very last breath, as brutal as it was. However, as it often turns out, a leader’s relentless reputation is also that leader’s greatest weakness. It makes them easy to anticipate.
In Frost’s case, his gung-ho, ‘kill everyone who pisses you off’ motto was precisely the reason his undoing was possible. The man never saw it coming. He was too consumed with finding a reason to justify taking out Edison and assuming control of everything.
Even his dog saw the end coming and defected. That said something.
* * *
Doctor Liz Blackwell tore through the hallway that connected to the stack of switchback stairs leading to the surface of the silo. She’d traced those same stairs many times before, but never with the type of news she carried today, the weight of it pressing on her chest.
She’d thought about reversing course on the way up as her feet pounded at the metal steps, not wanting to relay the news boiling her heart.
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