“I know.”
“And like he said, what else is left? Even if he was willing to let us leave, where could we go? We can’t take Allie, and I don’t think you’re willing to leave her behind or kill her.”
“I’m not,” Mackie said. “Not yet.”
“You really believe that bullshit he tried to sell you about how she might get better? That some doctor or scientist might show up one day with a cure?”
Mackie leaned forward against the bookshelf at Kara’s back. He propped his forearm against a stack of books and rested his head against it. All that knowledge pressed between the covers meant nothing now.
“I understand what he wants to do here,” Mackie said. “The few people that are left, they’re scared and they’ll follow along. He has guns to protect them, drugs to keep them pliable, and he’ll also control the food supply. His guns will give them a false sense of security. But what he said about the possibility of other survivors joining up, about finding someone that may have answers—”
“It gives you hope,” Kara said. “For her.”
“It shouldn’t. But yeah, it does. I just...I can’t help but think it’s possible, maybe, that when word gets out that we have a sanctuary, someone will find us that can help her. And beyond that, at some point we have to start over. Together, as a human race.”
When Kara spoke again, the stale air inside the library seemed to dampen the volume of her words. “I think you’re a fool, Mackie. You’ll play along with this and do whatever that bastard tells you. She’s not getting better on her own, and if you think someone’s gonna show up here one day with a magic pill that will fix her, you’re as delusional as Krider.”
“You think there’s a better option right now?”
“We kill him,” she said.
“That man with Krider. His name is Herrera. I’ve seen what he can do. Before he joined with Krider, he did things with a Mexican cartel that would keep you up for weeks if you knew about them. He’s the worst possible human being that could’ve survived the storms and made it here with Krider. I’ve never seen a predator like that man before, and Krider exposed me to plenty of bad people. Trust me, if Herrera stays close to Krider, then there’s no chance either of us could get close to him.”
“So we take our time,” Kara said. We plan. “We wait for the best moment. I think we could get through to those three National Guard soldiers. Maybe convince them to side with us. I don’t think they have any real loyalty to Krider. Then that would just leave the three goonies: Krider, this Herrera, and the other man with them.”
“McRae,” Mackie said. “I don’t know him. Have no idea what he’s capable of. But Krider doesn’t surround himself with weak links. I was considered the weakest of that group, and believe me, I killed plenty of people. What you’re talking about here is something that will only get you killed.”
“You can do what you want,” Kara said. “But now that Krider’s here, I’m going to find a way to kill him.”
Mackie sat down beside Kara. “I get that you’re angry and looking to have your hero moment here. But you’re not enough to stop these people. I’m not enough.”
Kara lowered her head, stared at the floor. “If someone did come along that could help her, how do you know he’d even let them? As long as she’s sick, he can play you, string you along. Or he can just threaten to kill her if you don’t play ball.”
“I don’t think you’re wrong, Kara. I just don’t know what else to do.”
She lifted her head and met his eyes for the first time that day. “We do whatever we need to do to take out Krider and his men. We can stay here with the other survivors. We can have a community. And if you want to take care of Allie, you can do that. But it can’t happen with Krider here.”
Mackie remembered that Kara’s wrists were bound behind her with a zip tie. “Lean forward,” he said. Kara did so, and Mackie touched her wrists gently. The zip tie bit deeply into her wrists, and her hands were red with pooled blood trapped inside and denied circulation.
“I’ll find something to cut this off with,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.”
He expected to hear Kara call after him, say something to the effect of “You know I’m right, Mackie. You know what we have to do.”
But the only sound was his feet echoing in the vast stacks.
9.
Plunk-plink-twunnng.
The strained notes resonated through the high-ceiling library.
Mackie found Herrera lounging on a sofa near the circulation desk. The bastard was awkwardly plucking a Metallica riff on Allie’s acoustic guitar. A railroad spike of cold anger pounded through his forehead, adding percussion to the atonal music.
“Put that down.”
Herrera looked up and grinned. His automatic rifle was beside him on the sofa. He continued plucking out the riff with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. The strings buzzed from the clumsy positioning of Herrera’s fingers across the frets. He stared off to the side as his fingers moved along the fretboard. “That’s the one thing I miss with the power off,” he said wistfully. “Music. Not a fan of ‘Enter Sandman,’ bro?”
“I said put it down. That doesn’t belong to you.”
Herrera’s hands went still. His eyes bore the calculating glare of a snake that had just spotted a salamander crawling through wet grass. From her seat at the circulation desk, Rebecca stared nervously.
“Well, sure, bro,” Herrera said softly. “Since you’re in charge and all.”
“Just put down the guitar, Herrera.” Krider stepped out of the office behind the circulation desk. “Let’s keep this friendly.” Herrera shrugged and tossed the guitar aside, his eyes never leaving Mackie’s. It landed with a hollow thud and the tinny resonance of vibrating strings.
Krider emerged from a wing of offices. “You think about what we discussed?”
“I want that zip tie cut from Kara’s hands.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea right now. She was pretty violent when we found her earlier.”
“Just cut her loose. I’ll make sure she behaves.”
Krider shrugged. “Okay, then. Take care of that, Herrera.”
Herrera stood, pulled a folding knife from his pocket, and then strutted slowly into the stacks.
“So, are you in?” Krider asked Mackie.
“I won’t help you hurt anyone. But if you’ll see that Allie is safe and cared for, I’ll stay and do what I can to help. Not for your benefit, but for hers. And the other people here.”
Krider nodded. “In that case, there’s just one more piece of business to discuss. If you’re going to stay, you need a clear head. No carelessness like before. No mistakes. I realize I gave you some potent shit last night, and I’m sure you’ll want more. But you don’t get more. No pills either.”
Mackie’s heart felt like it had fallen into his gut. “I can’t go cold turkey.”
“Starting now, you’re enrolled in the Lucas Krider rehab program. You want to be part of this community, then you need to prove you can be a productive member. You can take a few days to deal with the withdrawals if you need to. But from this point forward, you’re clean. No exceptions.”
“Macklin?” Mackie heard the voice coming from the stairs leading to the second floor. He turned and saw a familiar face on the stair case. Dr. Carl Lehman, head of the Evans-Lawson English department. Friend and mentor from better days.
“Dr. Lehman,” Mackie said. “My God.”
“What are you...you were here when all this happened?” Lehman’s bearded face carried a look of surprise that suggested he’d fallen farther down the rabbit hole than he’d expected. He reached his hand out to shake. It was a gesture that had served as an opening for many of their lengthy discussions in Lehman’s office both during and after Mackie’s student days. It was a comforting piece of normalcy.
“No, I made it here after the storms.” Mackie gripped Lehman’s hand firmly. “You’ve been here this whole time?”
/>
“I was at my place on Faculty Hill when it hit,” Lehman said. “I came to see if I could help any of the summer students. The only few I found alive...they wanted to kill me. They chased me here to the library. I discovered Rebecca upstairs, and we stayed here until these men showed up.”
Mackie nodded. “Did anyone else survive on Faculty Hill?”
Lehman’s face fell. He hesitated. “I’m not sure. I don’t think so. I knocked on a few doors, but no one answered. I was afraid to go inside any of them.”
“We need to check out those houses later, look for food and other supplies,” Krider said.
“Have you met Lucas yet?” Lehman asked Mackie.
“Yeah.”
Lehman’s eyes narrowed as if unsure how to respond. “But why are you here, Mackie? I thought you were still in Florida.”
“I came here to see Allie.”
“Allie Williams? Is she—”
“We’re looking after her,” Mackie said, and let it go at that.
“But she’s alive?”
“Yes.”
Before Lehman could ask Mackie to elaborate, Krider said, “I think we should all head to the dining hall and have some food.”
“You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up in a few minutes,” Mackie said.
He returned to check on Kara. She was sitting where he’d left her earlier, rubbing her raw wrists gingerly. Herrera had cut the zip tie with his knife, but Mackie wasn’t sure where he’d gone afterward.
“Does it hurt?” Mackie asked, taking her hands in his.
Kara nodded.
“I can get you something if the pain’s bad enough.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Everyone’s headed to the dining hall for food.”
“Okay.”
“You should go,” Mackie said. “You probably haven’t eaten for awhile.”
“I’m not breaking bread with that son of a bitch.”
Mackie crouched next to her. “I’m sure he won’t let me near a gun any time soon, so we’ll have to do it another way. Overpowering Herrera or McRae or one of the guardsmen and taking one of their weapons...there’s too much risk involved. We’ll have to be cautious, take our time with this. Either way it rolls, you need to keep up your strength.”
“So you’re on board with this now?”
“I never really wasn’t on board. But you have to understand what we’re up against here. We have to do this in a way that minimizes risk.”
Allie’s prone, blanket-covered form trembled slightly, but the Haldol kept her mostly calm. Her face twitched as if she was having a particularly lucid dream.
“I found a friend of mine here a few minutes ago,” Mackie said. “A professor. He survived the storms and he’s not a Zaphead. Now it’s about more than you and me and Allie and a bunch of kids I don’t know. I have to protect him, too.”
Desiree appeared at the far end of the row, a thick book in her hand, one thumb inserted to mark her place. “I’ll stay here with her,” she said, tilting her head toward Allie. “You guys get some food. I’ll go when you get back.”
Mackie stepped forward and extended his hand. Desiree shook it lightly. “Thank you for this,” Mackie said. “Thank you for looking after her.”
“I don’t mind a little peace and quiet after all of that craziness,” she answered. “Plus I need to finish up my masters thesis.”
Mackie smiled politely at the joke. He couldn’t tell whether Desiree was afraid of him or just freaked out by the whole doomsday scenario unfolding around her. At least she’d found a piece of the old reality to carry along as baggage and keep her moored to sanity.
Mackie and Kara left the stacks and headed toward the library’s front entrance. Outside, the sun had yet to burn away the thick smears of gray from early dawn. They followed a small procession of survivors heading for the dining hall. Mackie spotted a new face in the group now; a tall, sinewy kid with the look of an upper-classmen.
So far, including himself, Allie, and Kara, Mackie counted a dozen warm bodies on campus.
When he had arrived here the day before, the place had the feel of a countryside mausoleum blown apart by a storm, its corpses scattered haphazardly. The bloated bodies were still present, but the campus had a more animated feel now. It was a skewed, perverse sense of normal, but it was close enough to give Mackie some comfort. Whatever else it became, at least this passed for some kind of society.
Inside the dining hall, Rebecca and the couple Mackie saw seated on a bench earlier were at a table to the right. The sinewy upper-classman sat at the table directly behind them. The despondent young man with glasses from the library was seated alone at a table in the rear. Krider, Herrera, McRae, and Sayles took a table in the center of the room. Meredith and Dante headed toward the kitchen area to search for non-perishable food.
Mackie and Kara took a table far from the others. “We have to get them on our side,” Kara said. She was referring to Meredith, Sayles, and Dante, the soldiers.
“I spoke with the girl, Meredith, earlier,” Mackie said. “I tried to warn her about Krider, but she seemed willing to overlook the things I told her, circumstances being what they are. I doubt her loyalty to Krider is iron-clad, but I know she’s grateful to him. He and Herrera and McRae helped out her and her friends with some Zapheads earlier.”
“They stood there and watched while Herrera beat me,” Kara said. “They didn’t look particularly comfortable with it, but they didn’t step in to help me out, either. Of course, I did have a gun and I tried to attack Krider when I saw him. Maybe they’re fine with martial law.”
Meredith and Dante emerged from the kitchen area, their arms loaded with canned items and economy-sized bags of cereal.
“I can try to talk to them,” Mackie said. “But if they’re too far up Krider’s ass, it won’t matter what I say, and they sure as hell won’t go along with a plan to overthrow Krider and his men based on my word alone. And if word got back to Krider, you and I would be dead by the end of the day. I don’t know anything about Sayles or Dante, but Meredith, I get the feeling she might be the most reasonable one.”
“What if you could somehow get a weapon from one of them?” Kara asked. “A pistol, something small you could easily conceal.”
“Maybe. All I’ve seen so far are automatic rifles, but maybe one of the guardsmen at least is packing a handgun of some kind. And I’m sure Krider, Herrera, and McRae brought handguns from their safe house. My Glock’s still floating around somewhere. Herrera probably kept it after he took it from you.”
Meredith and Dante distributed cans to each occupied table. Corn, carrots, green beans. Chef Boyardee noodles, probably raided from Allie’s room. Meredith opened one of the cereal bags and poured small amounts of the contents into Styrofoam bowls for each diner that requested one. Herrera used his folding knife to open the cans, punching holes in the lids and sawing in a clockwise motion to create openings large enough to empty the contents.
A guttural roar echoed across the dining hall, and Mackie and Kara turned to see Despondent Guy from the library on his feet shouting into Meredith’s face. She had approached him moments earlier with two cans and a bag of cereal. He swiped one of the cans from her hand and sent it sailing across the room. The other can fell to the floor and Meredith stumbled backwards.
Herrera hurried toward the commotion with his knife, and McRae rose from his seat.
Despondent Guy gave Meredith a hard shove and grabbed a chair from his table, swinging it into a window to his left. The glass spider-webbed and bulged outward but came short of fully shattering. He flung the chair aside and shouted incoherently.
“Cool it.” Herrera held his knife at his side, and Mackie stepped between them. Herrera thrust a palm into Mackie’s solar plexus. Kara attempted to sidestep the path of Mackie’s backward momentum, but she wasn’t quick enough. Mackie tumbled into her and they both toppled.
Herrera grabbed Despondent Guy’s shirt collar and jabbed the tip o
f the Ka-Bar knife under his chin. “Time for you to cut that shit out. And I mean pronto. Zaps will hear you.”
Despondent Guy sputtered something Mackie couldn’t make out. The rest of the dining hall was completely silent. Krider sat impassively, watching the scene unfold, his face revealing neither concern nor even mild curiosity.
The king and his court jesters.
Mackie climbed to his feet and eased forward. “He’s freaked out, Herrera. We all are. Just let it go.”
Herrera ignored him. “I need a firm commitment from you that you’ll calm the hell down,” he said to Despondent Guy. The kid’s eyes were wide and panicked. His head jerked and twitched and he made mewling sounds that never quite coalesced into intelligible language. He wasn’t quite college-aged. Probably a local.
“Firm commitment, last chance.” Herrera dug the knife’s tip deeper into the flesh beneath the kid’s chin.
“There’s something wrong with him,” Mackie said. “He probably doesn’t even know what he’s doing. C’mon, Herrera. Stop this. Nobody needs to get hurt.”
“Anybody know this freakshow?” Herrera asked. No one responded. His grip on Despondent Guy’s collar tightened. Their faces were now barely separated by an inch.
“No one’s gonna vouch for you, so you get one more chance to tell me what I need to hear,” Herrera said to him. “Give me a firm commitment that you’ll calm your ass down. Won’t ask you again.”
Mackie turned to face Krider. “Lucas, stop this.”
Krider said nothing.
“Firm commitment, yes or no?”
“Herrera—”
“Firm commitment, yes or no?”
More incoherent sputtering from Despondent Guy.
With one smooth motion, Herrera swiped his blade across Despondent Guy’s throat.
A red gash opened across his neck. Herrera released Despondent Guy’s collar, and he stumbled backwards. He looked confused for a moment, and then he raised his hands as if to probe his sliced throat.
Bone And Cinder: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Zapheads Book 1) Page 6
