Bone And Cinder: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Zapheads Book 1)

by Nicholson, Scott

  “Is he dead?” Kara asked.

  “I don’t know,” Mackie said. “He’s hurt, but he got away.”

  Mackie swung his Glock toward the door at the sound of footsteps. It was McRae.

  “Where is he?” Mackie asked.

  “He took off. I fired on him, but he was in the woods. Bastard kept shooting back, too. But he’s hurt. He won’t make it far.”

  Meredith flinched and cringed when McRae stepped into the room, silhouetted with the smoldering sink fire throwing shadows around him.

  “It’s cool,” Mackie said. “He helped us.”

  “So what you said is true?” McRae asked. “Artiss thought he’d pull a coup with Herrera?”

  “Yeah. Why do you think he wanted to kill me?”

  “Everybody wants you dead, Mackie.”

  “That’s what Artiss told me, too, right before he felt me up with his sicko little fingers,” Kara cut in. “Said he was going to come back and do it right once Herrera was on the throne.”

  “We need to find him, then,” McRae said after Mackie finished. “If he’s not already dead, we need to put him down. If he makes it back to the campus, no telling how he’ll spin it.”

  “The other thing he said, that’s true, too,” Mackie said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “About me wanting you, Krider, and Herrera dead.”

  McRae tensed and raised his rifle. “Think you need to explain.”

  “I don’t know you, McRae. Don’t know shit about you. But I do know Krider and Herrera, and I know that unless they’re dead, they’re a threat to all of us.”

  “So, what, you think you’re just gonna take us all out and run the show yourself?” McRae said.

  “That’s the plan pretty much, yep,” Mackie said. “We need to stand together against the Zapheads. That’s the real threat. And anybody trying to control us is just going to make that job harder.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be that way now,” Meredith interjected. “Sounds to me like Artiss is the problem. If what he told you is true, then Herrera doesn’t even know about his plan.”

  “Doesn’t change anything. Doesn’t make Krider and Herrera any less dangerous.”

  “I don’t understand who the hell you think you are,” McRae said. “Making a decision like this like you’re God or something.”

  “He didn’t exactly make it alone,” Kara said. “I’m part of this, too. I know what Krider is, and I know we can’t let him live.”

  “And I know I can’t be responsible for taking someone’s life based on your word alone,” Meredith said.

  “You got balls talkin’ like this with me standing here, holding this rifle,” McRae said. “Is there any reason why I shouldn’t just kill you right now, considering you were willing to do the same to me?”

  “Like I said, McRae, I don’t know you. Maybe you’re not as bad as Krider and Herrera. Maybe you can understand why I think they should die so some good people here can stay safe. You’ve got no reason to be loyal to them now. But it’s time to choose sides for real.”

  “I wouldn’t put too much faith in me being any better than they are,” McRae said. “I’ve done plenty of bad shit.”

  “So have I.”

  McRae didn’t reply. He lowered his rifle, and then after a moment he said, “So how could you tell?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “How could you tell?”

  “Tell what?”

  “You wouldn’t be talking to me like this if you didn’t think I was somehow different than they are. Krider and Herrera.”

  “So are you? Different?”

  “Not a good person, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “I wasn’t. I know you’re bad. I am, too. My question is ‘Are you as bad as they are?’”

  McRae’s chin dipped. “I was supposed to help bring them down,” he said softly. “That was my job.”

  Mackie’s head suddenly felt light. “What did you say?”

  “It was my job to bring them down. And I didn’t.”

  What the hell?

  “Undercover?” Mackie said. His voice was barely a whisper. “FBI?”

  “Nope. ATF.”

  Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms. The wild card in the fed law enforcement poker hand.

  “How’d that work out?”

  “My handler down in New Mexico, he tells me how the ATF’s declared open season on Lucas Krider. They wanna go after him under the RICO Act and they think I’m the guy that can get close and deliver the goods. I mean, I wasn’t some piss-ant snitch looking to trade weak info to save my own ass. I was tight at this shit. I had the rep for high volume, high quality info.”

  “A professional informant. And this was an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.”

  “It’s kind of a shitty life, man. But you’re good enough at something, it’s hard to just stop doing it.”

  True enough. Mackie understood a little about the distinction between garden-variety snitches and professional informants. Solid PI’s took pride in building their credibility and resumes with a skill set that allowed them to gather valuable, real-time intelligence and move easily within a criminal organization. It was all about tradecraft and developing a reputation for results and trustworthiness.

  But the best PI’s were rarely junkies. Junkies were hardly credible, after all, and PI’s value to law enforcement was directly proportional to their credibility.

  Hadn’t Artiss said something about McRae getting high with Todd and Emma?

  “But you couldn’t do your job, could you?” Mackie asked, wondering if Artiss had fled back to campus to rat them out to Krider. Not much they could do about in the dark, except hope that Artiss’s wounds were too severe for him to walk. “Because you got in with Krider’s crew and developed a taste for the junk.”

  “I was supposed to be able to handle it.”

  Yes. You always think you can.

  “And pretty soon, Krider and Herrera and that life was all I had. My handler found out I was on the junk, and the ATF knew they couldn’t trust me after that. They cut me loose.”

  “You’re lucky they didn’t kill you sooner,” Mackie said. “Krider takes a dim view of junkies in his employ. He wanted me dead for that same reason.”

  “He didn’t want you dead because of the pills. He wanted you dead because you were careless. I may’ve had a taste for the junk, but I didn’t make the kind of mistakes you made.”

  “There are a lot of good people here,” Mackie said. “And they’re gonna get hurt or a lot worse if we don’t do something about Krider and Herrera. We don’t even know how many people are left on this planet. Maybe there are other groups like us, and if we can survive long enough to find them—”

  “Yeah,” Kara said. “We’ve got to get back to campus.”

  McRae laughed again. “You think I’d even consider going up against someone like Herrera? He’s less human than these fucking Zapheads. There’s no chance of that happening.”

  “You’re holding an M16,” Meredith said. “You’re a trained killer.”

  “And that’s supposed to make me less afraid?”

  “You want to be a coward, that’s fine,” Mackie said. “But we can’t wait any longer. Krider’s going to wonder what’s up.”

  “Do you really think it’s a question of courage versus cowardice? Do you really think not being afraid to go up against Herrera is gonna make you any less dead once you do?”

  “Never said I wasn’t afraid. Hell, for all we know, Zapheads could be surrounding this house right now. Could be thousands out there. Maybe millions. And if they don’t kill us, we still have to figure out how to make it day by day for the rest of our lives.”

  McRae fell silent as the horror of their new world settled upon them all. Then he said, “I can’t let you do whatever it is you’re thinking of doing, Mackie. If Herrera finds out I knew about this and didn’t stop you—”

  “You think maybe the same thing would happen i
f he found out you’re a snitch?”

  “He ain’t gonna know. Because I’m not letting you walk out of here.”

  “They know, too.” Mackie gestured to Kara and Meredith. “You gonna kill us all? Women, too? A kid? That’s what you’re willing to do to save your ass, you cowardly piece of shit?”

  McRae’s face hardened and his grip on the assault rifle tightened so hard the barrel shook. “Dammit, Mackie. If you can’t live with Krider and Herrera, then just freakin’ leave, man. Go. Take these people with you.”

  “I’ve got a girl on campus,” Mackie said. “And she’s sick, and I can’t travel with her. This is the safest place for her right now. And I love this place, McRae. It was home to me once. I can’t let men like Krider and Herrera taint it. I can’t let that happen. It deserves better. If we have any chance at something better, it’s here.”

  McRae’s face twisted with an agony that only someone with no good options could understand. He lowered the rifle. “All right.”

  “What?”

  “Go on. I’ll stay here and protect the others.”

  “No way,” Kara said. “I’m in on this, too. After what Herrera did to me?”

  “No, Kara. You’re out of this now. Meredith, too.”

  Meredith, who had been keeping watch from the window, turned and said, “We’re in this together.”

  “I know we are,” Mackie said. “And we’ll need you. The campus needs you. Alive.”

  “I’m going, too,” Jason said from the doorway, holding a bulging backpack.

  Exhaustion weighed on Mackie like a stack of wet furs. “I want you all to stay here. Until I come back for you.”

  “So, what are you going to do?” McRae asked. The fire in the sink had burned low, and the people in the room were little more than silhouettes now. Mackie couldn’t make out their faces.

  “The old plan...that’s out now. Artiss, if he’s still on his feet and breathing, he’s on his way to find Herrera. I’d worry that he was going after Allie, but he doesn’t know where she is. There are too many places she could be, and he’s too hurt to look. Once he finds Herrera, who knows what’ll happen? Maybe Herrera will decide to kill him then and there. But using a diversion to lure them out and then pick them off...I don’t think that’ll work now. Either way, Herrera will be looking for us.”

  “Unless you can find Artiss first,” Kara said.

  “That’s possible. And he may be bleeding out on the ground anyway. Either way, the best option now is to find Herrera and Krider and open fire as soon as I lay eyes on them. No tricks, no bullshit. I’ve got a better weapon now. I think this is the way to go.”

  “And maybe they see you first,” Kara said. “Maybe they shoot first.”

  “Sure. Maybe. But I need this to be over. If they get me, I want you two to find Dr. Lehman, Rebecca, Desiree...gather everyone and leave as soon as you can. Put as much distance between yourself and Krider and Herrera as possible.”

  “And Allie?” Kara said. “If we leave, you know we can’t take her with us.”

  “Then tell her I love her. Tell her I’m sorry. She won’t hear you, but tell her anyway. I want her to hear it, at least once. And make it quick for her.”

  A pungent scent wafted in through the broken window.

  Mackie’s heart rate punched up a few notches. “That jar of—”

  “The gas,” Meredith said. “I dropped it outside when Artiss—”

  What Jason tripped on earlier, just outside the cottage. The sound his foot made when it connected with the object. Mackie hadn’t placed it at first, but he understood now what he had heard.

  The sound of glass.

  Oh, God.

  Meredith patted her pockets frantically. “The lighter. He took that, too.”

  And just as Mackie knew it would, smoke trailed the gasoline vapors through the shattered windowpane.

  21.

  “You can come out or burn up in there!”

  Artiss’ feverish voice rang out from the woods. “Don’t give a shit which.”

  Thick trails of dark smoke poured in through the window, punctuated by the first crackling of heat.

  “We go outside, he’ll pick us off with the rifle,” Mackie said.

  “We can go out the back door, or climb out of a window in another room,” Kara said. “He can’t guard every door and window.”

  “We’ll be easy targets against the flames, and he’s in the dark where we can’t see him,” McRae said. “He’s got the advantage, big time.”

  “We can’t just sit here and burn,” Meredith said with a cough.

  Mackie leaned against the wall beside the window and lowered himself until his head was level with the sill. He jabbed the Glock’s barrel through the broken glass and squeezed off two rounds. He had only a vague idea of Artiss’ location, but the burst might buy them a little time and force Artiss under cover.

  “Go,” Mackie hissed at Meredith, Kara, and Jason.

  “I’ve got the front,” McRae said, dashing into the living room.

  Flames crackled as they ate through wood. Mackie fired through the window again, wondering how many rounds remained in the clip.

  Some pro you are. Can’t even count anymore.

  “He wants you and Kara,” Mackie said to Meredith, keeping his voice low. “He won’t shoot either of you. Go out there, try to talk to him. Stall him.”

  “No! Mackie, he’s—”

  “He won’t have a chance to hurt you. I’ll circle around and put a bullet in him. But you need to keep his attention focused on you. Don’t let him walk around back.”

  “Artiss, we’re coming out,” Kara called through the window.

  “You send the guys out first, bitch,” Artiss responded.

  The smoke poured in thicker now, and bands of heat spread across Mackie’s face. The fire crept up the walls and would soon penetrate the framing.

  “Artiss, we’ll come out and we won’t fight you, okay?” Meredith said. “We’ll do whatever you want.”

  “I don’t give a shit! The guys come out first.”

  “Artiss, please. I promise...we’ll do anything you say. Whatever you want from us, we’ll give it to you.”

  “She’s telling the truth, Artiss,” Kara shouted, crouching behind a dresser. “We’d rather be with you guys back on campus where it’s safe. We don’t want to die.”

  Artiss went quiet. Mackie wasn’t sure if he was thinking it over or had just chosen not to respond. It was too much to hope that he’d passed out from blood loss.

  Finally, Artiss said, “Okay. But I want the guns tossed outside first. Then they come out the front where I can keep an eye on them.

  Kara looked desperately at Mackie, her eyes practically screaming What-the-hell-do-we-do-now? Waves of red and yellow and black coruscated over her face from the firelight.

  Mackie gave her a nod. “Okay,” he called out to Artiss. “I’m gonna toss the guns out the front door.”

  “The rifle and the Glock. Keep your fingers far away from the triggers.”

  “Huh-he’ll kill us,” Jason said.

  “Maybe, but we’ll burn up if we don’t do it.”

  “We can make a run for it,” McRae whispered from the front door, barely audible over the crackling flames. “He can’t get us all.”

  “The women and Jason are unarmed. They wouldn’t have a chance.”

  Mackie motioned the group to the front door, where the flames had not yet spread. The roof popped and cracked above them, the asphalt shingles likely spewing sparks like a volcano. If they didn’t move soon, the house might collapse. Mackie wiped the sweat from his face and swallowed hard, dragging his backpack to his shoulder.

  “It’s okay, kitty,” he said to Sabbath in the backpack, but the animal squirmed and kicked in distress.

  “You sure about this?” McRae said. “You know that little shit is going to kill us both, no matter what. Maybe all of us.”

  “You were an agent. Whatever happened to ‘Serv
e and protect’?”

  “This isn’t a fucking TV show, Mackie. And this fire is probably attracting Zap freaks from all over. Even if Artiss doesn’t kill them, they’ll never make it back to campus.”

  “Hurry,” Meredith wailed. “I can’t breath.”

  Mackie parted the front door about a foot and tossed out the Glock. The cool air from the open door was welcome and almost worth losing his weapons. The heat inside was stifling and everyone coughed from the thick layers of smoke hovering in the room.

  “Your move,” Mackie said to McRae. “I can’t make you play along if you don’t want to.”

  McRae glanced at the two women huddled and panting in the heat, then at Jason’s scared young face. “Shit.”

  He parted the door wider and hurled his rifle into the yard.

  “We’re coming out now,” Mackie called out the open door. “Don’t shoot.”

  Artiss didn’t respond.

  Mackie led the way, bracing for a swarm of hot lead to rake across his chest. McRae was just behind him, then Jason, Meredith, and Kara.

  Artiss stood at the edge of the house fire’s glow, pointing his assault rifle, face and arms scraped raw and bloody from his dive out the window. The wounds were glistening wet in the light. A shard of glass protruded from beneath his right breast. His smile looked diseased and almost comically large for his face, teeth stained pink with blood.

  “You’re not looking so good,” Mackie said. “You might want to grab some gauze from the nurse’s office, maybe lie down for a bit.”

  “Sure, Doc. Anything you say.”

  The southern side of the cottage was almost entirely consumed by flames now. The wood crackled and snapped, threatening to ignite the nearby trees. And there was no fire department to keep the blaze from spreading across the campus. Nothing, really, to stop it from eating the August-dry mountains around them.

  “Get over here, away from the guns,” Artiss said.

  “You don’t even need Herrera,” Meredith said, trying to flatter him. “Look who’s brave. You could’ve run far the hell away from here. Somebody like you should run this show.”

  “Yeah?” Artiss ran his slobbering tongue over his top row of teeth. “You wanted me, baby, and now you got me. True love doesn’t run.”