Apocalypse Journeys (Book 2): Finding AJ

by Melrose, Russ

  Jules felt clearer. Keep him talking. "Why did you give the charm to Bethany?" she asked. Jules was surprised the sentence had come out as cleanly as it did.

  "What? Oh my." And he drummed his fingers on her chest again. "I'm really going to miss you, Jules. How in the blazes did you figure that one out? Oh, wait. I know. You talked to Caleb. Very clever, Jules. Now, I will admit giving Bethany AJ's charm was a mistake, but I wanted to be able to see it whenever I could, and she wore that bracelet her dear daddy gave her all the time. Every time I'd see that charm, I'd get chills. It never grew old." He shrugged his shoulders. "Seemed like a good idea at the time. An innocent gift. Who would notice?

  "Everything was going so well till stupid, bungling George messed everything up. I was close to wrapping things up. One last episode and a little DNA inadvertently left at the scene, and George would have earned himself a long, well-earned vacation.

  "That reminds me," he said, shaking his head and smiling. "I do believe it was your old buddy Beckerman who got George infected. When Beckerman came to the station that last morning, he was wheezing and coughing up a storm and not making a lot of sense. Heath and I both kept our distance. Of course, we just thought he had a cold. What did we know? The thing is, I'd thought I'd gotten rid of Agent Beckerman. Conflict of interest and all that. Don't you Feds ever follow the rules? Five minutes after he left, I drove past George's place. Had a feeling in my gut. And sure enough, there was Beckerman's Impala parked in the driveway. He wasn't going to give up. I thought I was going to have to deal with Agent Beckerman, but then the world fell apart and, well, here we are.

  "Back to Addy. Where is she, Jules?"

  This time Jules didn't say a word. She stared up into the random assemblage of leaves above her. The leaves possessed a dreamlike quality as they fluttered lightly in the wind. It was as if they didn't have any interest in Jules and Dallin at all.

  "Not going to tell me where Addy is? I see."

  Dallin's hand was over Jules' mouth and nose before she knew what was happening. His hand smothered her mouth, and he pinched her nose between his thumb and the side of his forefinger. His grip was airtight. Jules tried to wrench her head back and forth but Dallin only tightened his grip. His knees dug into her sides, and he stared intensely into her eyes.

  Jules tried to draw air into her lungs but there was nothing there. She could feel the scarcity of oxygen in her lungs as if they were empty tombs. The feeling of emptiness frightened her. After an eternity without air, she started to panic and her throat and upper chest began to constrict. And she was acutely aware her eyes were bulging. She tried kicking her legs to get him off her.

  "Yes," he said as he removed his hand. He was breathing excitedly and it took him a minute to calm down, but he kept looking into Jules' eyes the whole time.

  It was the fear that drove him. Her fear. Jules coughed and gasped for air. When she got enough air into her lungs to speak, she told him, "Never."

  He laughed. "I know, Jules. I know," he said. "I knew you'd never give her up. I just wanted to give you an appetizer. A little preview of what's to come. Besides, when Addy finds out that we've found the killer …" Dallin glanced in Heath's direction, "… there won't be any more reason to hide. Simple as that. And I suspect young Addy will need a shoulder to cry on. Maybe I'll volunteer."

  As her lungs filled, she felt as clear-headed as she had for a while. She had a headache, but her mind was getting clearer by the moment. "Asshole," she called him.

  "What?" he chuckled. "Oh, Jules. Now that's not very nice. I expected more from you than name-calling."

  A tear formed in her eye. She wasn't sure if it was from the anger she was feeling or the helplessness. Jules also felt her old friend stubbornness taking up residence within her. She wasn't going to give up. She wasn't ever going to give up.

  "I suppose you'd like to hear about what happened to AJ. I'll give you that. You've earned it, Jules. I never told the others the whole story. There was no point. They wouldn't have cared or understood. In a roundabout way, I guess you've finally solved the mystery. Kudos to you, Jules. Not that you'll be able to share it with anyone. But, hey, we'll share it together. It'll be our little secret. I think it's only fitting."

  *****

  He paused and gazed out into the woods but didn't see a thing. He was adrift in the past, living in it. It was where he felt most at home. His face softened. "I still visit her at least once a month," he told her, almost whispering. He swallowed and felt his Adam's apple bob gently up and down. It was the first time he'd ever been able to talk about her, and he wanted to savor each moment. "Stopping by keeps the memory fresh. I always had a bit of a crush on AJ, but she was too young for me, so I never really gave her a second thought. Not till that day. That day changed everything.

  "AJ was running off, leaving Gideon behind, and who could blame her? Not me, that's for sure. Fate brought us together. AJ up on the freeway, me cruising by in the squad car at exactly the right moment. I was headed down to St. George to pick up some office supplies. Can you believe that? Office supplies. AJ was standing on I-15, suitcase next to her on the side of the road, thumb sticking out. She must have just gotten there. She wasn't afraid. She was a lot like Caleb that way. Stubborn and willful. She wore an ivory summer dress with roses printed on it here and there. Pink ones and red ones. I can see her clear as day in that dress. And she had on chestnut-colored cowboy boots, all polished up. AJ was a country girl. After it happened, a part of me wanted to keep the dress. She looked so beautiful in it. But that wouldn't have been smart.

  "Should have seen the look on her face when I pulled over. I asked her where she was headed, but she didn't say a thing. I told her I'd have to give Caleb a call. And I would have. But she begged me not to call him. She was all flustered and her face turned all rosy. She kept saying, 'Please.' She stared down at her boots for a minute or two, then she kind of mumbled she'd have sex with me if I'd let her go.

  "I couldn't believe she'd said it. I hesitated, but I couldn't help but think about it. It was risky, but I knew she'd never tell Caleb. I felt jittery and conflicted, but she was so beautiful. Finally, I said, 'Okay.' I knew exactly where to go. When we got there, I led her into the back seat. 'And you'll give me a ride to St. George and not tell anyone?' she asked me. I said 'sure' and I meant it. I could tell she was real nervous. We were in the middle of it when she started crying and tried to push me away, but I was too strong. She started screaming for help. I knew no one could hear her—we were in the middle of nowhere—but I got scared anyway. I put my hand over her mouth so no one would hear her and I kept going. I couldn't stop. Her eyes were open and I kept looking into her eyes. I didn't even notice when she stopped pushing me away. When I finished, that's when I saw the change in her eyes."

  He was only half-aware he'd moved his hand to a position over her mouth. He held it there loosely. He'd finished the story, and he could feel a taut erection pushing down his inner thigh. It felt warm and full against his skin. His breathing was short.

  He looked into her eyes. They were calm for now. He yearned to be inside her, but he knew he had to stay disciplined. If someone else came along—unlikely but possible—he couldn't be caught with his pants down. He'd have to kill anyone who stumbled upon them, and that wouldn't be easy with his pants wrapped around his ankles. If he did have to kill anyone, he would blame it on Heath like everything else.

  He clamped his hand over her mouth and pinched her nose shut. It would be now. It had to be. As much as he liked Jules, he couldn't put it off any longer. He leaned over her like an incubus and arched his back. Every muscle in his body became tight as a bow string. He held his hand firm against her mouth till she couldn't move it at all. There would be no reprieve. Not today. He watched her eyes expectantly, waiting for the change to come. Like the others, she wriggled a little underneath him. But something was off. Something in her eyes. A glimmer. He noticed her cheeks were bunched up and her shoulders shook convulsively. Then he rea
lized she was laughing.

  He wouldn't let her ruin it. He took his hand off her mouth. "What the hell are you laughing at?" he asked her.

  *****

  Jules coughed in jagged spurts and wheezed air into her lungs. It was painful. She struggled to get the air in. A few residual laughs trickled out, sounding like hiccups.

  Dallin looked serious and confused, and he was waiting for her to answer him.

  He shook his head, his face red with strain. "Why are you trying to make this so hard? And what the hell's so funny?" he asked.

  It took several moments for Jules' breath to settle. She took a deep breath and did her best to conjure up a smile. "You're Ch-Ch-Chester," she stuttered, and then she laughed again.

  Dallin's lips curled inward. His body torqued and a looping fist came at her in a blur. The fist cracked her hard in the jaw. Jules was stunned by the blow. An auditory vibration pulsed in her right ear, and she could feel a dull aching from the tip of her jaw up to her ear. She wanted to touch her jaw but had no hands to touch it with. Right before the blow, Jules thought she'd heard a sound she couldn't identify. She assumed that she'd imagined it till she saw the look on Dallin's face. He'd heard it too.

  Dallin turned toward the sound. "Shit!" he exclaimed.

  Jules could hear the sound better now. A low growl accompanied by the rapid tamping of paws on the hardened earth. She angled her head and saw Rusty hurtling toward them.

  Dallin sat up from Jules and reached for his revolver. Jules gathered herself and kneed him as hard as she could between his legs. The revolver slipped from his hand and nestled into the tall grass. Dallin was bent over, moaning and cupping his groin with both hands. Rusty sprang into the air and crashed into Dallin. They rolled well past the rifle laying on the ground.

  Dallin used his forearm to try to fend off the dog, but Rusty sank his teeth into Dallin's forearm and jerked his head back and forth, growling.

  Dallin found his balance and started clubbing Rusty in the face with his free fist, but the dog refused to let go of his arm. Dallin howled but got to his knees and grabbed Rusty by the neck and picked the dog up as he rose to his feet. With a maniacal grunt, Dallin turned and used his momentum to sling Rusty hard into the tree. Rusty's shoulder took the brunt of the blow, and he yelped and fell to the ground. He crawled away, then struggled to get to his feet and slowly limped off, favoring his left front leg. Every time his paw touched the ground, a high-pitched yowling cry would come from him.

  Dallin staggered away, holding his bleeding arm, opening and closing his fist. "Shit!" he muttered to himself. "Fuck! God dammit!"

  He turned and headed toward Jules, his face sweaty and drawn tight, a resolute determination written in his taut features. He smiled bitterly. "Don't worry, Jules," he said. "This will only take a minute."

  He lifted the rifle out of the grass and raised it slowly with rote meticulousness. He settled his chin onto the rifle's stock as if it were a part of him. He took aim at Rusty. He stood erect and perfectly still for several seconds.

  Jules closed her eyes.

  A shot rang out, and another, but the shots weren't from Dallin's rifle. They came from a Glock. Jules was certain of it. And she could still hear Rusty whimpering. She opened her eyes. Dallin had turned and ducked. He was facing the same area he'd come from, a look of surprise on his face.

  Jules followed Dallin's gaze. Cole was walking steadfastly toward them, a Glock in his outstretched hand. He had to be a hundred feet away. He stopped and fired again and the Glock jumped wildly in his hand. The bullet struck the tree Jules was handcuffed to and made a sharp cracking sound. A chip of bark landed next to her in the grass.

  Cole's firing posture was all wrong, and he wasn't using his off hand to support his gun hand. Still, he strode purposely in a straight line toward them, exposing himself as an easy target. Cole being Cole. Jules wanted to yell and warn him but thought better of it. She didn't want to distract him, and she thought he'd ignore her anyway.

  "I know what you done, you son of a bitch," Cole hollered.

  Jules was certain Cole was going to get himself killed.

  *****

  Dallin gathered himself. He ignored the pain radiating from his forearm and Cole's silly rambling. He raised his rifle casually, snuggled his chin onto the stock, and took aim at Cole's upper right arm. He thought it a good place to start. Cole fired first, and Dallin heard the bullet's high-pitched whine as it passed by. It didn't bother Dallin. To him, Cole was little more than a bothersome gnat. He would take pleasure in picking Cole's wings apart before smacking him out of existence. It would be fun. He waited for the silence between breaths and squeezed the trigger. The bullet struck Cole on the outside of his upper arm, filleting a piece of flesh from his arm as if he'd been bayoneted. The purpose of the shot was to simply relieve him of his gun. And as he'd expected, it worked perfectly. The gun jumped out of Cole's hand, and Cole grabbed his upper arm.

  "Damn it!" Cole cried out as if he'd simply been unlucky. Luck, of course, had nothing to do with it. Dallin watched with a degree of satisfaction. Cole's hand covered the wound on his arm. He slowly angled his hand away from the wound and took a quick peek. He shrank back from the wound and closed his hand back over it again.

  Dallin smiled and zeroed in on Cole's left thigh. It would be good times to see him hobble around like a chicken with one of its legs cut off. He took a breath, relished the even, deliberate flow of air into his lungs, and waited for the moment to come. Instead, he paused and frowned. He had to stay focused. Playing around with Cole wasn't a part of the plan. He needed to get back to Jules.

  Cole was eyeing Dallin nervously, his mouth open. He kept sneaking glances at the gun that lay on the ground a few feet in front of him.

  Dallin couldn't help but chuckle as he took aim. He would end it now. Go ahead Cole, Dallin whispered to himself, go for it.

  *****

  Cole drop awkwardly to his knees. Every move he made was clunky and slow. He fumbled for the gun and the Raiders' cap toppled off his head. Jules heard a belly laugh coming from Dallin. Cole corralled the gun and flattened his body to the ground and rolled twice to his right. When he stopped, he fired off two shots. Dallin had fired a shot too.

  Time moved sluggishly if at all. Neither of them moved. Jules was puzzled. The sound of the river rushing by below was the only thing that let her know that time hadn't stopped.

  Then everything happened at once. Dallin took a step back. He dropped his rifle and his hands went to his throat. His shoulders were huddled into his body. Jules heard gurgling sounds. Blood slipped through his fingers unabated. She looked into his eyes. They were wide with fear and surprise. His body stiffened and he stumbled forward and fell to his knees. A moment later, he fell face first to the ground. One of his hands had dropped away from his throat as he fell. Once he was down, he didn't move. His eyes were open, staring at nothing.

  Cole canted his head as if he were suspicious of what he was witnessing, as if he didn't believe he'd actually shot Dallin. He nearly tipped over getting to his feet. When he was stable, he picked up his flattened cap and slapped it against his leg and a cloud of dust drifted away. He put the cap on his head and took a few cautious steps forward, keeping the gun pointed at Dallin's prone body.

  He crept along slowly, his shoulders and neck hunched forward. He held the gun in his right hand while his left hand covered the wound on his arm. He stepped lightly as if he didn't want Dallin to hear him coming.

  Jules couldn't believe it was over. She took a breath. She was acutely aware of each parcel of air she drew into her lungs. The thought crossed her mind that Dallin's laughing at Cole had cost him his life.

  Cole couldn't take his eyes off Dallin. When he got close, he asked, "Is he dead?"

  "Yes. He's dead," Jules told him.

  Cole straightened up but kept his eyes on Dallin. Then he looked over to Jules. He muttered something unintelligible and quickly looked away. "I didn't see nuthin'," he said.
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  He looked around sheepishly and spotted Jules' clothes. He gathered them up and set them next to her, keeping his head turned away from Jules, his eyes closed.

  "The keys are probably in his pocket," Jules told him.

  "Oh. Okay. I'll get 'em."

  Cole found the keys and unlocked the handcuffs.

  As Jules was pulling her jeans back on, Cole stood over Dallin, staring down at him. "I ain't never killed no one before," he said quietly. "Not even a zed. It don't seem real."

  "You didn't have a choice, Cole. He would have killed us both." Jules paused. "And … I want to thank you for saving my life, again."

  "Yeah. Well. That's okay. Way I figure it, you and me are even-steven right about now," he said.

  Rusty limped over to Jules and nudged her arm with his snout and groaned miserably. Jules knew what he wanted. Jules stood up but felt light-headed. She stood in place several seconds till she felt in balance with the movement of the earth. A trace of fog lingered in her head, but she was okay.

  "You sure he's dead?" Cole asked doubtfully.

  Jules crouched next to Dallin, one knee touching the ground, and placed two fingers on his carotid artery. There was no movement at all. She looked at Cole. "Yes. He's definitely dead."

  Cole's mouth shifted uncomfortably. "Okay. Just wanted to make sure."

  Rusty was whining and barking to get their attention. He'd taken a few steps toward the path. He was still limping but was able to put more pressure on his injured leg.

  "What the hell's up with him?" Cole asked.

  "Caleb," Jules said to Cole. "Dallin shot him."

  Jules retrieved her Glock and they followed Rusty. Jules wasn't wobbly but didn't feel rock steady either. They were on the path above the dam when they spotted Caleb. Rusty had already limped off after him. Caleb had managed to make it down to the path from the tree cover and had come nearly halfway. He lay on the path not moving.

  A number of infected still lingered on the path to the dam but most had made their way back to the campsite. Jules didn't see the alphas anywhere.