"It’s not gangrenous, but you were sure close. It’s mostly healed except for the surface. You keep tearing it open. Colleen swears she will take my knees out if I give you any of our limited ration of antibiotics, but she at least agreed to an expired prednisone shot, so that’s a plus. It’s not as effective as it was new, but we take what we can get.”
“So he’ll live?” Colleen asked with an air of disappointment in her words.
“I’d say so. He’ll have longer than when he first rolled in here. It certainly will be painful without meds, though.”
A bitter smile inched its way between her lips, “What a shame.”
“Don’t take that as carte blanche to torture him. You’ve got five minutes. I’ll wait outside, still in earshot of any blood-curdling screams. Remember, I’m still a doctor and I took an oath.”
Colleen acknowledged him but maintained her haughty stare on Lito. He opened the door and walked out, looking back only to point at the group, mouthing the words, "be good."
Once he was out the door, Colleen rubbed the back of her neck, like she was trying to soothe her anger away. She got up and began pacing a circle around Lito’s bed silently.
“You are making me nervous; spit it out,” he demanded.
“Ha! Nervous?” A maniacal burst of laughter escaped her tight lips, “You don’t get the right to complain about being nervous.” Anger flared in her eyes. If looks could kill, he would be a dead man.
“You never gave me a chance to explain why I did what I did.”
Colleen’s breathing became labored, each breath appearing intentional. She ran a hand across her forehead and staggered over to take a seat in the ripped vinyl chair, positioned in the room's corner.
Looking down, she rubbed her hands down her thighs, “I'm sorry, I was too busy running for my life. Besides, there’s no explanation you can give that would justify what you did. If they would’ve caught me, I would've become the next night's communal spaghetti. So no, I don’t want to hear your reasons.”
“I never meant to—” he paused, seeing her face boiling red hot.
Colleen balled her fists up, squeezing her palms until her knuckles turned alabaster white. After taking a few breaths, she released her grip, letting the blood flow again. “This isn’t productive. I could tear you a new one all night long, but that won't change the past and it won't help in our current situation. Just tell me this, how many people are we up against? There’s no way he brought more than a few people with him. It would be too many mouths to feed and not enough bodies to cook.”
“Nine,” he mumbled. Colleen slapped a hand over her mouth and looked away.
She swallowed, “Nine now, or originally?”
“Nine originally. There’s seven of them now that I’ve left and Joel’s dead.”
“Do they have a plan, or are you keeping that one close to the vest?”
“If they have one, I was never told. Truthmore won’t give you any warning before he attacks. He’s going to try to be slow and methodical until his hate makes him impatient. He knows he has a disadvantage in terms of body count, but in terms of pure hatred and planning, this place is no match.”
“So, what do you suggest we do? You know we can’t whip all these people into cold-blooded killers in a—” Colleen pressed her lips together and put her hands out, palms up, staring at Lito.
“A day, at most,” he said, obeying her command.
“A day! Are you serious? We’re screwed,” she turned around, running her hand roughly through her short hair.
They weren’t prepared for anything close to what Lito suggested was coming. The whole reason people had settled here was that they were tired of the endless rat race of survival. Yesterday’s game wasn’t supposed to be a drill, but it might as well have been.
“You have to hide,” Lito said, pushing himself up in bed. “Not you specifically, but everyone living here has to hide if they want to live. You might think that you have numbers on your side, but as you said, your people aren’t trained for these situations. I’ve got to leave in a few hours to report back on what I’ve seen, or they will get suspicious.”
“Report back?” she said, trying not to yell, “I thought you were on our side.”
“I have to give him something. I’ll do my best to misdirect him, but he's going to know if I hold out,” Lito said, giving her a shy smile and shrugging his shoulders.
“Fair enough. What did you have in mind?”
The two of them tossed ideas back and forth, each of them immediately dismissing the other's suggestions. It soon became a reality that regardless of whatever they planned, Truthmore would see through the facade.
“Truthmore’s not falling for any of these," Colleen sighed dejectedly, “I still think isolating him from the rest of the group is our best idea. If you can convince him that I’m hiding on the 11th floor, he won’t be able to resist the urge to tear off and take me out.”
“No,” he snapped, “that is practically suicide. I can’t let you—”
“It’s not your choice. Plus, who would I be if I backed down?”
Colleen pondered the thought. On the one hand, she had never backed down from a fight, but there currently was more at stake than her own life, and because of that, she wouldn't start today. On the surface, hiding would look cowardly, but people would live. Also, she was in her element in the dark, and if she gave Truthmore any invitation for a fight, he would surely answer. The real question now was, who would bunker down and who would stand with her?
Colleen met with Dr. Vasquez, and he agreed they should call an emergency meeting of the compound; everyone's attendance would be mandatory. She told Chenoa and Cooper to spread the word of a meeting in one hour. No one could be late.
Everyone trickled in as soon as they got the word. Colleen knew by the look of fear on the people's faces that she had her work cut out for her. The small crowd all exchanged glances and murmured, each person trying to figure out why they were all there on such short notice.
They had lived in peace until Colleen had shown up a few months ago. Now, they faced the idea of defending themselves against an enemy who had no conscience. She knew deep down that they wouldn't be here, possibly about to go to war, had it not been for her arrival.
She walked to the front and cleared her throat, giving everyone a weak smile, “You all lived here in relative harmony for months before I came along. Everyone was wonderful without me, but I soon realized I am not the same person without you. You’ve given me the family I sorely missed and have become the people I count on the most. You took me in not knowing my demons, my fears, and what I was running from. Well, today, one of those things has caught up with me, Corbin Truthmore.”
Everyone in the room exchanged glances, but not a single soul made a sound.
“I never thought I’d see him again, and certainly not this soon, but evil people have a habit of catching up with you when you least expect it. He’s here for me, and that is what he will get. I can’t risk the lives of everyone here just to satiate my desire to fight back.”
Colleen wiped her eyes, still looking down, “I appreciate what all of you have done I—"
Cooper stood up and with his left hand, waved her off. “This isn’t how it's going to end, so you can just ride off into the sunset like you are some sort of lone cowboy. You don’t have to die for the sins of some psycho. If for one moment you think you are on your own, you aren’t. We are family, and we will help you take this guy out.”
“We aren’t a defensive fortress, we'd be fifteen bodies strong, desperately trying to keep an eight-story building secure from the nine people trying to kill us. Once he knows you’re helping me, it’s all bets off, and he will attempt to kill everyone here. No matter how long it takes.”
Marisha gathered herself and stood up, “You know you have me.”
“Same here,” said Dr. Vasquez.
Colleen shook her head, letting out an emphatic, “No.”
The doct
or stared her down and shook a finger, “You need me.”
“Of course I need you, but I need you doing what it is you do best, saving lives and leading this place. If you kick the bucket, then I’ve got to trust John in the boiler room to keep us alive. He may keep that boiler running, but I’m not so sure about a heart.” She pointed to John in the back, “No offense, John!”
“None taken,” John said, laughing.
“Then, who do you need?” Chenoa asked.
“Right now, just me, Marisha, Cooper, Chenoa, and Lito.”
There were hushed tones in the crowd, many voicing their displeasure. Marisha made her way up to the front, keeping her distance away.
“Is Lito the spy we caught?” Chenoa said, “I don’t know about you all, but I don’t trust him. The last thing we need to do is put our faith in a traitor.”
“I hear you,” Colleen said, raising her shoulders slightly, “It’s not my first choice, but we’ve got limited time. It’s a risk I’m willing to take, and another reason we are taking fewer people.”
“So, where do you expect everyone to hang out while you risk your lives?” John asked, standing up in the back of the room.
“I know this won’t be the popular choice but—”
“Don’t say it,” John sighed, closing his eyes and slumping his shoulders at the idea.
“If you all could bunker down in the morgue—” Everyone sighed and complained. Many people shook their heads, rejecting the idea, while others rolled their eyes. “Listen, I know it isn’t everyone's favorite place…” Colleen tried to continue.
The morgue had always been an unpopular choice, but when a roving band of desperate thugs rolled into town, it was easier to hide until they moved on.
“That’s an understatement of epic proportions. Do you have any idea what it smells like in there?” said Samara, John’s wife, who had been showing very early symptoms of the terror. Her symptoms had appeared shortly after having their second child. The pregnancy had been later in life and especially hard on her, but she had taken everything in stride, “It smells like death and farts. It’s truly awful.”
The room filled with laughter, and Colleen couldn't help but join in,
“Okay, okay. We’ve gotten a little off track. All joking aside, I need to know we are all on the same page. They’re coming to kill us, and we don’t have much time. I need you all to do exactly as we say.”
She spent the next fifteen minutes going over the plan, ignoring raised hands, and people as they looked around confused.
Colleen watched as everyone filed out of the room, their faces as if nothing had changed. She wasn’t sure how her sense of urgency had failed to register with the room, but hoped that she was making the right call. Everyone would know soon enough. Marisha lingered for a while, and yet Colleen couldn’t look at her, not right now at least. She had to save this place, but as time ticked, the more bottomless the pit in her stomach grew. Someone was going to die today, and all she could hope for is that it would be her nemesis and not someone they loved.
Ten
Truthmore
“He should be back by now,” the tall, thin man said. His perfectly trimmed facial hair and tailored clothes failed to hint at his ruthlessness. His tone of voice remained unconcerned, almost amused as the corners of his mouth turned up, “The little weasel never struck me as very loyal, only as loyal as his options, I suppose. You don’t think that he’s grown a conscience, do you?”
“No, mister Truthmore, I believe he’s late as usual. If I hadn’t been at the warehouse on time, who knows how this whole mission would have turned out.” Without looking, the sharpshooter placed the well-worn barrel on the rubber mat. Next, in one swift motion, he removed the trigger mechanism, setting it to his right. Running a cleaning cloth through the rod, he continued, “Honestly, I don’t know why you sent him. We already know where they are and who’s protecting her.”
“You might be right, but I’m an old-fashioned guy. I want to know my prey has a sense that I’m coming. I need to know she’s squirming a bit.”
A cry came from the lookout stationed outside their camp. Truthmore looked up and saw a cloud of dust approaching; its rapid pace increased as it barreled down toward them. He could just barely see a black hoof and an arm swinging in the air as the gray dirt enveloped it. He listened closely and could hear a battle cry resonating off the walls of the valley they have made their camp in.
The closer it got, the more clear it became that it was Lito and shadow; he always knew how to make an entrance—that was for sure. The horse and rider stormed through the camp, halting in front of Truthmore before doubling over and coughing. Spitting up a mix of fine sand and saliva, the young man struggled to catch his breath.
“Lito, nice of you to join us. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up. Figured you had kissed and made up with your little pseudo-girlfriend. I was about to send someone out after you. Did you two plutonic love birds make up? I hear she’s not really into pocket-sized guys anymore.”
He watched as Lito flared his nostrils and narrowed his eyes. The young man twisted the reins in his hands until the knuckles turned white. A smile twitched at the corners of Truthmore's lips. He knew the boy couldn't be trusted—not with how much the girl obviously still mattered to him.
“Don’t be so dramatic. Does it hurt that she doesn’t play for the same side you had hoped?”
Corbin Truthmore stared the boy down, enjoying the show. Watching the boy squirm in anger was pleasing, but shorter lived than he would've wished. Brushing the lock of hair that had fallen over his left eye, he waited for a response to his unsolicited question.
“After this long,” Lito took a huge breath and closed his eyes, “you now begin to doubt my loyalty?”
“It’s not a scenario that’s completely beyond the realm of reality.”
“It’s not worth it. You want to bait me, Truth? I’m not taking it. Find someone else, but what I will tell you is this: They have no idea what is going on. The plan they have drawn up is pathetic at best. They don’t stand a chance, and I know exactly where to hit them the hardest. So, when you're ready to talk, let me know.” Lito spun his horse around and slowly began to walk away.
"Wait," Corbin called out, "I want to know everything."
Eleven
Chenoa
There was a metallic BANG as the last of the steel desks were piled against the back door of the hospital’s first floor. They knew they wouldn’t be able to keep Truthmore and his crew out forever, but Dr. Vasquez could at least ensure that they got bottlenecked.
The morgue resided on the basement level, allowing those holed up within its walls to stay easily protected. There were no windows, outside entrances, but also no way to escape if something went terribly wrong. Even if the attackers knew where to look, they would still have a heck of a time getting through the reinforced steel doors that would be locked from the inside.
Chenoa rounded everyone up, prodding them into the room, “How long are we going to be in here? What if we have to go to the bathroom?” a disgruntled voice said.
“If everything goes as planned, we can get you all out of here by morning.”
“Morning!?” the woman holding a latched infant yelled, “Do you expect us to hold it until then?”
Chenoa tried to keep a straight face, even though every nerve in her body was terrified. The hide-and-seek games Colleen played weren’t supposed to become a reality. She forced a fake smile to form on her face and hoped it was convincing enough.
“We left you a bucket. You’re just going to have to make due. Please trust us.”
Chenoa stared off at the caged light fixture fainting swinging above the metal mortuary table in the back of the room—anything to keep her face from letting on to her own uncertainty.
“Oh my bad, how could I forget about that. All is well with Mr. bucket in the corner,” John said as he hugged the bucket, feigning a kiss.
“Well, I’ll l
et be the first to let you know just how bad it smells after twelve hours. John had some goat cheese for lunch today, I’m sure that won’t come back to bite us all,” the nursing mother said.
Chenoa rubbed her temples with her middle and index fingers.
“You know what else? He may be small, but you wouldn’t believe the awful things he,” she said, looking down at the infant, “leaves for me in the morning. And does John help? No, he’s too busy working in the basement on the boiler and generator. Seriously, how long does it take to keep them running? You’d think he’s married to it with as much time as he spends down there.”
“I volunteer as tribute,” he said, “I’ll take a bullet if you need me to, anything to…” John put his head in his hands and refused to say another word.
Samara tapped a finger against the stainless steel tray hanging over the embalming table, the sound amplified through the hole used to gather bodily fluids. “And another thing—”
“Samara, I’m not here to counsel your marriage issues. No one likes this scenario, but as of right now, it’s our only option. You can serve us all the best by keeping quiet. Once I walk out this door, you need to lock it and open it for no one. I don’t care if the Virgin Mary herself knocks on that door. Don’t open it until morning.”
Chenoa began to walk back to the exit but, Jackson spotted her and began to cry. He wound his way between the people milling about, making his way to the front.
“I’m sorry, sweet boy,” she said as he pressed his nose to the outside of her thigh, “you’ve got to stay here. We need you to be their ears. You can do that, can’t you?”
After the long trip Colleen had taken him on, Jackson’s aging body had taken a toll. Even in just the last few weeks, they had all noticed he had lost a step. More often than not he stayed behind, but right now, he was needed inside that room.
The Maddening: Book 2 in the Terror Saga Page 6
