It didn’t.
The tunnel was dark, and he was damn near deaf. It was time for a tactical retreat. Tanner carefully slid four fresh shells into the shotgun and slowly backed the rest of the way out of the tunnel.
Samantha hurried over to him.
“Are you okay?”
“I am if I still got all my fingers and toes,” he said, looking down warily at the hole in his boot. He handed her the shotgun. “Cover me for a second, will you?”
She slipped her own rifle over her shoulder and gripped the shotgun with both hands.
Tanner set his pack on the ground and dug around until he found a flashlight. He stepped to the edge of the tunnel and switched it on. The beam barely illuminated a dark shape lying on the floor about forty feet inside.
“What is that thing?” she asked.
“Some kind of crocodile, maybe.”
Samantha saw him contemplating his next move.
“Are you crazy? Leave it. It might not be dead.”
He considered her words. She was right, of course. But it did nothing to satisfy the curiosity gnawing at him.
“The gun,” he said, holding out his hand.
She handed the shotgun back to him.
“Okay, but if you die, I’m putting this on your headstone.”
“Oh really? What’s it gonna say?”
“It’ll read: Here lies Tanner Raines, killed because he was dumb enough to go back into a dark tunnel to fight a dinosaur.”
“That’s a big headstone.”
She squinted at him. “I’ll write small.”
He reached over and tousled her hair.
“Just cover me.”
Samantha slid the rifle off her shoulder and took aim at the dark shape. As Tanner started into the tunnel, he thought he heard her tell him to be careful, but when he looked back and nodded, she only made a face like she didn’t know why he had stopped. That, he thought, was classical Samantha.
Keeping the flashlight pressed tightly against the muzzle of the shotgun, he swept the light across the shape. The creature didn’t move. It was lizard-like in appearance, ten feet long and weighing a good one hundred and fifty pounds. The creature’s skin was thick and coarse, and it hung from its body like an oversized suit of chainmail. Its hands resembled that of a human’s except for the huge curved claws. A baseball-sized hole gaped on one side of the creature’s belly, and wet innards bulged out.
Tanner stepped a little closer and gingerly kicked it in the head. It didn’t move. It was either dead or one hell of a heavy sleeper. Brushing aside the bats, he walked deeper into the tunnel and retrieved Samantha’s flashlight. Then he stepped around to the back of the creature and lifted its heavy tail over his shoulder. Its skin felt cool—definitely a member of some cold-blooded family of animals. He slid the monster around and began dragging it out of the tunnel, like a fisherman bringing home his catch.
As soon as Samantha saw the beast, her eyes grew wide, and she stepped back, giving it a wide berth.
“It was a dinosaur,” she whispered.
Tanner dropped the tail, and it hit the ground with an indignant clop.
“Nope, but close. It’s a dragon.”
“A dragon?” She searched his face for any sign that he was pulling her leg.
“A Komodo dragon to be exact. One of the nastiest creatures on the planet.” He sat down on a nearby rock and pulled off his boot.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure he didn’t nick me. Their mouths are filled with bacteria, and I don’t want to wake up in the morning to find my foot oozing all manner of pus.”
She looked over his shoulder.
“Did he get you?”
“Nope. I’m good,” he said, sliding the boot back on.
Samantha knelt down beside the creature’s armored head. A forked yellow tongue lay dangling out of its open mouth. The creature’s razor-sharp teeth were lined up in uneven rows, like that of a shark, each partially embedded in the gingival tissue.
“Was this what killed the bighorn?”
“I’d say.”
She stood up and looked around, wondering if there might be others lurking in the shadows.
“I don’t like these creatures.”
“Darlin’, their own mothers don’t like these beasties.” He tossed her the flashlight that she had dropped. “What do you say we get out of this forest before something else tries to have us for dinner?”
Samantha took one last look at the dragon and shook her head. All her life people had been telling her that there were no such things as monsters. Clearly, they didn’t get out much.
Chapter 9
The sun started its slow descent as Mason, Leila, and Bowie made their way deeper into Lexington. The closer they got to the center of the city, the more complete the devastation became. Nearly every building around them was damaged, many with collapsed walls or roofs peeled away. Power poles leaned over the street, held upright only by the heavy transmission lines stretched between them. Cars were bunched together in mounds of crumpled metal, tossed around by the blast’s incredible shockwave. It had been nearly thirty minutes since the helicopters had passed overhead, and in that time, they had not seen another living soul. Anyone who had survived the blast had either gone into hiding or fled the area entirely.
“How exactly are we going to find Lenny?” she asked.
He stopped and turned.
“We?”
“If you don’t mind my company a bit longer.”
“I thought you were taking photos for history’s sake.”
“I am. But after what you told me, I think I need to find Lenny as much as you.”
“Why?”
“If the newly appointed president used a nuclear strike to cover up his crimes, my government needs to know about it. Such a man could be a threat to Israel, and it’s my duty to get to the bottom of this.”
Mason didn’t bother arguing the point, as he understood duty better than most.
“My plan is to go that way,” he said, pointing in the direction that the helicopters flew.
“Because you believe that those men are out looking for him too?”
“I’m certain of it. I’m also equally certain that they won’t hesitate to kill anyone who gets in their way. This is going to be dangerous, Leila.”
She gave him a playful smile.
“Marshal, are you always so concerned for others? Or is it simply because I’m a woman?”
It was a good question, and one that he didn’t have a quick answer to.
“I don’t know,” he said, feeling a bit frustrated. “I just don’t want to see something happen to you.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve had dangerous assignments for most of my career.”
“Given your country’s history, I guess that’s no surprise.”
“You know of our history?”
He shrugged. “I know that ever since Israel was founded in 1948, it has been plagued by conflict—the Arab-Israeli War, the Six-Day War, Operation Entebbe, the Lebanon Wars. I could go on.”
“Israelis are peaceful people, but our enemies are many.”
Mason wasn’t about to debate the politics of Israeli relations with its neighbors. Besides, he suspected that the pandemic had accomplished what nearly a hundred years of peace negotiations had failed to bring. With so few people in the region left alive, they would all have to come together if they wanted any chance at survival. Boundaries, pride, and prejudices would all need to be put aside. Peace was always most attractive when it was brought on by necessity.
“So, it’s agreed then? We’re partners for a little while?” She extended her uninjured hand as a way to seal the deal.
As he looked into Leila’s eyes, Mason saw a sense of purpose that was as sure as his own. Such commitment was rare and never to be refused.
“Agreed,” he said, lightly shaking her hand.
Bowie gave a short woof, adding his confirmation of the teaming arran
gement.
“All right, partner,” he said. “Let’s go see if we can find Lenny.”
As they continued along Winchester Road, their pace slowed considerably. Not only did they have to weave their way through the pileup of cars and trucks, they also had to tread carefully through rubble that had fallen into the street from collapsed buildings. Lamp posts, street signs, broken glass, and chunks of cement all blocked their way.
A housing subdivision off to their right looked as if it had been hit by an EF-5 tornado. Unable to withstand the shockwave and high winds, walls had collapsed, roofs had blown off, and buildings had fallen in on themselves. A debris field of vinyl siding, timber, fiberglass insulation, and furnishings lay spread across half a mile in every direction. Despite the dog’s eagerness to explore, Mason made Bowie stay close to ensure that he didn’t pick up a nail somewhere along the way.
They passed several auto parts stores, a fitness center, and a pizza joint, all of them destroyed. At a used car lot, dozens of vehicles had been tossed into the air, some landing on top of one another to teeter as precariously as a Jenga tower. Further up was a computer service center and camera outlet. The computer center was little more than a pile of rubble, but the camera store had fared a bit better. Its large plate glass windows were shattered, but the brick and stucco remained mostly intact.
“Murphy’s Camera,” Mason said, reading what was left of the bright red letters on the front of the building. “Would you like to stop in and see if we can find that spare memory card?”
Leila seemed surprised by the suggestion.
“I would love to, but you’d better stop taking such good care of me.” She winked at him. “A girl can get spoiled.”
He grinned. “Okay. I’ll watch it.”
The front of the building appeared to be structurally sound, but a thick layer of broken glass covered the sidewalk. As Mason felt shards of glass crunch beneath his boots, he waved Bowie back. The dog whined, obviously not wanting to be left out.
“I know, but you’ll cut your paws. Sit tight until we get back.”
Bowie reluctantly sat down and watched as they gingerly stepped through what remained of the plate glass window.
The inside of the store was divided into several areas, each with a different customer in mind. To the left, kiosks had been set up for viewing digital prints. Most of those had toppled over, and the few that still stood were bashed beyond repair. To the right was a long glass counter used for showcasing some of the store’s pricier items. The counter had also been smashed and presumably cleaned out by looters. The only goods that remained were hanging on small circular racks scattered about the store. Those goods, however, consisted mainly of smartphone cases, lens wipes, and photography manuals—nothing of any real value to post-apocalyptic survivors.
“I’m not sure we’re going to find much here,” he said, spinning one of the racks.
Leila motioned to a doorway behind the counter.
“Perhaps they didn’t clean out the supply room.”
“Worth a look, I suppose.”
They walked around the counter and through the open doorway. As soon as they entered the storeroom, they detected the stink of human decomposition.
She made a face. “Something died in here.”
“More likely someone.”
The back room was lined with tall metal shelves. Some remained upright, but many had tipped, crashing into nearby walls or falling to the floor. Most of the room had been emptied, but a small assortment of inexpensive lenses, disposable cameras, and film lay scattered on the floor. Leila stepped around the fallen shelving, occasionally bending over to pick up and examine something that looked interesting.
Mason headed down a different aisle, searching out the source of the smell. What he found surprised him. The corpse of an elderly woman sat in a wicker chair wearing a fancy yellow dress and a lacy wide brim hat. She had been dead for at least a month, and her body was dried and withered. Her jaw had been strapped on with bailing wire, but the flesh on her face was slowly decomposing, leaving behind bloodstained bones and small patches of dried skin. Strands of gray hair hung down from under her hat, carefully draped across the front of the dress as if she were preparing to go to a special Sunday service for ghouls.
A startled scream sounded from the other side of the room. Mason turned and raced in Leila’s direction, gripping his rifle with both hands. As he rounded a set of shelves, he saw her facing off with an old man dressed in a three-piece navy blue suit.
“Thief!” the man shouted, rushing toward her.
Leila ducked under his outstretched arms and spun around with a short left hook to his jaw. The blow was precise and quick, and it caught him below his right ear. He stumbled sideways, reaching out for something to keep him from falling. Before he could regain his balance, she front-kicked him in the ribs, sending him tumbling to the painted concrete floor. When he didn’t try to get up, she stepped back but didn’t lower her hands.
Mason swept the area with his rifle. There didn’t appear to be any other threats. He lowered the muzzle and turned to Leila. Her face burned a bright red, and her nostrils flared as she struggled to contain the adrenalin.
“I would ask if you’re okay, but I think the question might be better directed at him.”
“He attacked me,” she said, stabbing a finger at the man.
“I got that much.” He turned to the old man sitting on the floor. “Who are you?”
When the man looked up, his eyes were a little glassy.
“I’m Joe.”
“Okay, Joe. Why all the violence?”
Joe rubbed behind his ear.
“Ask her. She’s the one looting my store.”
Leila lowered her hands.
“I had no idea this place was occupied.”
“Well, it is. And I don’t like people stealing my things.”
“We’re not here to loot your store,” Mason assured him.
“And how do I know you’re not lying?”
“I would remind you that you’re the one sitting on his backside.”
“Good point,” he said, cracking a smile. He extended a hand toward Mason.
“Do you promise to behave?”
“Yes, yes, just help an old man up already.”
Mason pulled him to his feet and helped to steady him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I think so.” He cut his eyes accusingly toward Leila.
“No hard feelings?” she offered.
He snorted. “What were you looking for anyway?”
“I thought I might find a memory card for my camera.” She tapped the camera case hanging from her shoulder.
Joe mulled it over for a moment while he licked blood from his lip.
“I may have something.” He turned and started to walk away. When they didn’t immediately follow, he added, “Well, come on. You might as well meet the missus while you’re here.”
They followed Joe around a maze of shelving. When he stopped, he was standing in front of the desiccated body that Mason had discovered earlier.
“Elsa, we have customers. What’s that? I don’t know where they’re from.” He turned to Mason. “She wants to know where you folks are from.”
Mason had seen his share of crazy to be sure, but this was the first time he had ever seen anyone talk to a prune-faced mummy.
Leila gently grabbed his arm and gave it a little squeeze.
“We’re from North Carolina,” she said with a warm smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Elsa.”
Joe turned back toward his dead wife.
“Yes, yes, I know she’s pretty. But believe me, she’s got a mean streak too.”
He paused as if giving her time to speak.
“I will not.”
He paused again.
“Fine.” Joe turned to face Leila. “Please accept my humblest apologies for my face being in the way of your fist.” He cackled and glanced back at his dead wife. “What?
You insisted.”
“How long have you two been married?” asked Leila.
Joe reached out and gently brushed a small clump of hair from Elsa’s yellow dress.
“Forty-three years last Sunday,” he said, beaming. “We married right after I returned from the service. In that time, we’ve raised three beautiful children and eleven grandchildren.”
“That’s lovely.”
“She’ll always be my bride.” Joe’s voice broke, and before Leila could say another word, he leaned down and kissed the dead woman softly on what remained of her cheek. When he turned back to them, a small piece of flesh was stuck to his lips.
Leila and Mason both swallowed, partly because it was so sentimental, mostly to keep from gagging.
“Now, where were we? Ah yes, memory cards.”
Joe walked over and began rummaging through a box tucked between two shelves. When he returned, he was holding a small blue memory card.
“Is this what you need?”
“That’s it,” Leila said with a thankful nod, “but I don’t have much to trade.”
“Well, I’m not about to give it away. A business isn’t run on—” He looked back at Elsa. “I’m not being rude. We can’t very well give everything away. Yes, I know they’re a nice couple, but—” He sighed. “Fine.”
He held the card out to Leila.
“Consider it a wedding gift from Elsa and me.”
“Thank you. I wonder…”
“What?”
“I wonder if I might get a photo of you and your lovely wife.”
Joe’s eyes opened wide. “That’s a wonderful idea.” He stepped behind Elsa’s chair and gently rested his hands on her fragile shoulders.
Leila took a couple of steps back and readied her camera.
“Okay,” she said. “Smile.”
Chapter 10
Tanner and Samantha hurried out onto Canal Road, only stopping when they were safely away from the thick crop of trees behind them.
Battle Lines (The Survivalist Book 5) Page 8
