O’Shea nodded. I left the room with Gibson as Tess and Crystal came in. Cindy was right. We needed info from those punks. We’d been feeding them long enough.
I found a pair of leather work gloves, slid them on, and stepped into their dorm. At first, they started to bitch about the food, but when I grabbed the youngest by the hair and pinned him to the wall, they both shut up. Gibson held the muzzle of his pistol to the face of the guy tethered to the wall. I worked on the other one.
My first punch broke his nose. My second splattered his lip. I unloaded pistol shot between his legs so he could feel the concussion against his balls, and he messed himself in a hurry. I dragged him from the room and got the information I asked for. Names, places, connections. First, he rolled on Rick Mueller. Asshole had set up the Zed ambush. From there, we got the network of scavengers and what they provided. One guy specialized in young girls as sex slaves. Boys, too, if the client wanted them.
Enough for now. I tossed the punk back into the room and told him to clean up. He was going for a ride.
“Where you takin’ him, Cap’n?” Gibson asked.
“I’m tired of babysitting him. I’m giving him to Tom. Between us, we can shut this supply chain down.”
“Let me know, and I’ll have my troops ready.”
From the sleeping room, I heard retching, followed by low moans. I heard enough sounds of women puking when Jenny was pregnant. Pepper's had been worse. I didn’t need to listen to it today.
“When he gets cleaned up, drag them both out to the Humvee. Make sure they can’t see anything. You can come with me.” I turned and headed for the exit. Someone was puking again as I left the building. I didn’t need the memories.
Chapter Twelve
Pepper stood in the nursery. She held Michael, and Ella held Rachel. In the basement, Bill held a flashlight. He flipped on one fuse after another in the breaker box. When all were in position, he radioed upstairs. He turned the lights on in the basement. Light flooded the dim room. He looked around him, mouth agape and eyes wide. He switched off the flashlight.
On the first level, he heard his wives. Heather and Sandy shouted as they danced around. First from one room, then to another, they turned on all the lights. Holding his breath, Bill turned on the gas main to the hot water heater. With a long barreled lighter, he held a flame to the pilot light. With a whoomph, it sprang to life. Now the house had hot water, too.
Upstairs, with a trembling hand, Pepper reached for the switch. After a short pause, she threw on the lights. Fixtures sprang to life. Ella grinned, ducked into the hall, and switched on those lights as well. Each room worked. Tears ran down Pepper’s face as she snuggled Michael to her. Ella ran in with Rachel and flung her free arm around the others.
“We won’t freeze to death this winter,” Pepper murmured. “We won’t freeze. Thank God and the Army Corps of Engineers.”
Michael giggled as he blinked up at the ceiling. It was the first time he'd ever seen indoor lighting. Rachel clung to Ella and patted her sister’s face. Pepper turned off the lights before they went downstairs to join the celebration.
The Army Corps of Engineers, what was left of it, now consisted of twenty men and women from the Arsenal. They were under Tom’s command, and they’d been working off and on all summer to reset the power plant on the Illinois River. Today, all the towns on the cooperative that owned the plant had power again. Not that it mattered in Lacon, most of which had burned the year before, but Henry was aligned with Snareville, and they had juice now, too. Hennepin was still unoccupied but for a few stray Zeds, and Princeton was the last town on the line. Each occupied burg would contribute people to maintain the plant and patrol the fences.
Bill waited in the basement for a few minutes, then, when satisfied that the circuits weren’t going to blow, he headed upstairs. For a moment, everyone stood silently and stared at the lights as if they'd been transported back to their grandparents' generation, back when those good folks first electrified the valley. Then Heather turned on a faucet and giggled when water blasted from the fixture on a day not even scheduled for their house to have water.
“We can vacuum the rugs now!” Sandy cried suddenly. She dashed to a closet.
“And mop,” Pepper added, ducking into the garage to find a bucket.
Bill rolled his eyes.
“Leave it to women,” he muttered as he reached for his .22 rifle. “I’m gonna go kill somethin' and bring it home for supper.”
Heather kissed his cheek and shooed him outside. Inside, the vacuum cleaner came to life. Bill listened to the cheers of joy and shook his head, smiling. He’d never understand women. He heard dishes clattering into the sink as his feet found the road.
He passed through the gates on the edge of town. The twenty-foot-tall berms formed the last line of defense against the Zeds. Before anyone got to the berms, they had to cross two woven-wire fences topped with barbed wire, then climb through a dry moat ten feet wide and seven feet deep in most places. It reminded him of the old walled towns he'd read about in his history books.
Behind the berms lay the gardens and homes of Snareville. On the other side lay the wild and wooly unknown, full of barbarians and things that wanted to eat them. With electricity now, Bill thought he could live with that.
Danny sat on a high ridge on the Farm property. Across his knees rested a British SMLE Mk-4 sniper rifle he’d found in a private collection when they did a sweep last month through Andalusia. It fired a .308 round, same as his AR-15 battle rifle, so he'd immediately laid claim to it. The Brit was modified for its sniping duty, but it still had a ten-round mag. As he peered through the scope, the crosshairs came to rest on a female Zed’s eye as she gazed up the ridge. He squeezed the trigger, and the last round in the magazine blew the woman’s head to bits. She fell in a pile with the others on the road.
“Good shot,” Gibson said. His voice rumbled low though the woods, nearly taken away by the wind. “Let’s see if I can match it. Opposite eye you took, on that fat boy standing on the far side of the road.”
They waited. The big deader shuffled two feet closer. Gibson started to take the slack out of the trigger of his own rifle. His was a modern Marine Scout Sniper rig that could cut clover leaves at three hundred yards. Their targets were only a hundred and fifty out. Easy pickings.
Danny watched through the scope. Now the rotten corpse stood beside the woman, looking down at her. He nudged her with his foot, then turned to look uphill at the duo. Gibson blew the back of his head out to match.
“Good shot,” Danny muttered as the Zed collapsed on the asphalt.
Gibson elbowed Danny and jerked his head down the hill toward the barn. “We got company.”
Danny dropped his magazine as Cindy picked her way up the hill. He started stuffing rounds in as Gibson stood to make his way away.
“Tonight, right?”
“Tonight. Ten.”
“We’ll be ready. Troops are chompin’ at the bit to go on this one.”
“Good.” Danny looked back down the hill. “Probably oughtta get the skid loader on that mess and clean it up.”
“I’ll get Zisky on it. He’s a sick fucker. He likes that kind of shit.”
“Yeah, glad he’s on our side.” Danny glanced over. “Hello, Cindy."
Gibson nodded to the girl as he picked his way back down the hill. For a big man, he was eerie-quiet in the woods. Years of training and months of dodging zombies.
Cindy sat next to Danny. He still marveled at the change in her since the anti-virus. Her face no longer wore her weariness all the time. She no longer looked drawn-in. Her hair had picked up a golden sheen it'd been missing before. The biggest change happened in her eyes. The gray cataracts no longer dulled them. Her eyes had gone clear and blue.
She looked completely normal. It was a nice change.
“How you doing? Feeling okay?”
Tess and Cindy had survived the treatment. Crystal, the most damaged of the three and the weakest,
died while the anti-virus was still working its way through her system. They buried her in the old back yard at the Farm. A simple wooden marker covered her resting place.
“I’m fine. A little tired, but not zombie-tired. Tired from being up so much.” Cindy smiled. “It’s strange seeing you without seeing your heat.”
Danny grinned. Below them, the skid loader pulled out of the gate. Zisky was on the job.
“Do I look better or worse?”
“You look tired. Have you been sleeping?”
Danny turned away. “Good as I can.”
“Oh.”
“We’re going out tonight. We’re busting the slaving ring. You can come with if you want.”
“I don’t know much about military and stuff.”
“You can shoot. Just don’t shoot us, and stay in my hip pocket.”
Cindy cocked an eyebrow at him.
“You know what I mean.”
She smiled. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
They chatted for a few minutes. O’Shea was working on an aerosol version of the anti-virus, but they needed a delivery system. A lot of ideas had been tossed around. Everything from crop dusters to Hudson sprayers. Nothing seemed quite efficient enough. O’Shea and Penmachan had also been busy sending their data to other researchers across the country and around the world. Now that they had the cure, they needed to grow it and distribute it.
Cindy fell silent. She watched down the hill as Zisky rolled the last corpse into bucket of the skid loader and hauled it away.
“Did you mean that kiss the other day, Dan?”
“What kiss?” he asked.
“You know perfectly well what kiss. I know you’re just buying time, and I don’t blame you. You’re trying to deal with losing Jen and finding me.”
“Wow. I think that’s the most words you’ve strung together in all the time I’ve known you.”
She managed a smile. “I think without the virus eating me, my mind’s clear again. Stop avoiding the question.”
Danny leaned over and drew Cindy to him. Their lips met—softer than before. Hers were warm this time. A small sound came from the back of her throat as she opened her mouth to welcome him. Danny took the invitation and slid his tongue inside to meet hers. He didn’t know how long they held the kiss, but eventually, he pulled away, breathless.
“Yes,” he murmured, “I did mean it. And yes, I’m having trouble dealing with it after losing Jen.”
He stood and held out his hand.
“We better get back down the hill and get some rest if we’re going on a raid tonight.”
Cindy took his hand, stood, and wrapped him in her arms. With his free arm, he returned the hug.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?” he asked.
“For not treating me like some tame Zed pet before. You and your family treated me like a friend, not a walking sideshow.”
“You’re welcome.” He kissed the top of her head. She was probably more damaged than anyone else he'd met. He laced his fingers through hers as they walked back to the Farm.
Pepper sat at the computer. It was nice to have the thing in her own house now, instead of having to travel elsewhere to log in. Their wireless system was up and running now. Right now, they were tapped into the military system Tom had set up when he started using Snareville as a base.
She typed her letter as the babies slept. Nursing them both made her tired and ravenous. She was glad Rachel was taking formula now. Ella bounced into the room with her strawberry hair pulled back in a ponytail.
“You talkin' to Dad?”
“Just sending him a letter. He’ll be surprised to see when it was sent.”
“You gonna tell him about the power?”
“No. He’s coming home this weekend. I want to surprise him.”
“Cool. Cindy’s cured, huh?”
“From what Danny says, they found a way to kill the Z-virus. We just have to find a way to get it out there.”
“Mom… is Dad bringing Cindy home?”
Pepper paused, fingers over the keyboard. “He hasn’t mentioned it.”
“I don’t mind if he does. She’s nice. What do you think?”
Pepper listened to the seconds click by on the battery-powered clock in the kitchen.
“I don’t know,” she said at last. “I just… don’t know.”
Ella rested a hand on her mother’s shoulder and deftly changed the subject.
"What should we have for supper? We have deer and rabbit and ground pork in the freezer now."
Pepper finished the letter, sent it, and went with Ella to help with the meal. The girl's question continued to bounce around in her head.
Most likely another mouth to feed. Most likely another wife in their lives.
She'd wait to see what Danny’s return brought home.
Danny checked his inbox before he bedded down. An email from Pepper popped up. He cocked a brow. There were designated times for computers usage in Snareville, unless it was an emergency. And this was no emergency. The babies were fine. Ella was having a crush on Dustin Jaques and trouble with math. The house had put up twenty pints of applesauce so far.
As he read, Danny realized how much he missed his family. The letter sounded like life had never changed. No plague, no taking life in hand upon leaving the village, no raids on sex slavers in the night.
He sent a quick note back to let Pepper know he was thinking of her and loved her. He logged off.
His alarm went off at midnight. Danny silenced it, rolled over, and geared up. Ten minutes later, he stood with his men as the Marines dressed and made ready. He found Cindy. She slept in a different room shared with Tess and Trevor. For a moment, he watched her in the dim light from the hall. Only her chest rose and fell with her breathing. She was a beautiful girl. Even more so now that she was healthy again.
She stirred in her sleep, uncovering a shoulder. Danny reached out and gently nudged her.
An eye fluttered open. “Danny?”
“Yeah. You goin’ with?”
Cindy sat up. The sheets fell from her body.
Oughtta be illegal for a girl to sleep in a tank top and panties, Danny thought.
“Yeah. Give me five minutes to get dressed.”
"Come out to the security area, and we’ll gear you out.”
She nodded as he left. She pulled on jeans and a bra. It'd been cooler these last few nights, so Cindy grabbed a sweatshirt as well. In the guard’s area, Danny handed her a flack vest. She pulled it on over her clothes, then added a jacket that patched her as a Raider. One of the Marines found a helmet that fit her and showed her how to work the NVD system. With a flick of the switch, they could see in the dark like cats. They gave her a military-issue riot gun, as it was shorter and easier to use. With any luck, Cindy would never have to pull the trigger. Let the professional killers do the work tonight.
They could hear something. The guards at the gate in Milan glanced at one another in the darkness. Something was moving out there. Diesel engines carried a distinct sound, especially when nothing else was moving. But it was still pitch dark. No moon, no streetlights. Nothing but the flashlights they had in their hands, and right now, nothing showed up at the far reach of the beams. Those trucks could be anywhere.
When they heard gravel crunch on the street in front of them, they knew they were in trouble. Still, no shots had been fired yet, and zombies didn’t drive. One guard raised his rifle. The other raised his flashlight. The weak, yellow beam reached out and touched the front grill of a green Humvee. All the lights flashed on from the trucks.
Both guards tried to block out the light. Over the engine noise, they heard the actions of guns being cocked. Boots tread on the pea gravel in front of them. Three shadows emerged from the glare.
“Good mornin’ to ya,” the lead shadow said. He was dressed in old-style, green-and-brown camouflage from the eighties. Two gold bars were pinned to his collar. Above his shirt pocket, his nametag read Death.
The patch identified him as a Raider, and he carried an AR-15.
“Good morning,” the guard to the left stammered. A large black man, more muscle than anything, he held an SKS rifle in one hand and flashlight in the other. “Help you boys?”
His eyes fell on the other two. Both wore dark green digital camouflage. One had two red-and-gold stripes up, one rocker down. The other had three gold stripes up. Marines. The guard figured they were in a world of shit.
“We’re here to carry out a warrant,” the leader said. “I’m Captain Death. You boys are…?”
“I’m Ronnie White,” the black guard offered. “My partner is Jim Black.”
Black was a skinny white man, all of a hundred fifty pounds soaking wet.
“You guys work that out ahead of time?” Captain Death asked with a chuckle.
“Nosir, just happened that way.” Black managed a smile. With quick, nervous eyes, he glanced at the three troops, then the small convoy behind them.
Danny watched them for a moment. “You need to open the gate and let us through. Lance Corporal Jeffers here will help man the gate. The other one of you needs to take Sergeant Moody to your town leader and serve her with the papers.”
“Sir, I’m not sure—” White began.
Danny’s hand shifted on his rifle. “Is there a problem here, Mister White? We are authorized by the Northern Illinois, East Iowa Alliance to carry out this warrant.”
Both guards swallowed and glanced at one another.
“Yessir, Captain Death,” Black said.
He stepped back and started to swing the gate open. Danny raised his hand, and the headlights snapped off. Back in the dark, four Humvees drove though. Death mounted up in the first one, night-vision glasses flipped down over his eyes. The gates closed. Lance Corporal Jeffers stayed at the gate with Black. White took Sergeant Jessica Moody to Mayor Olivia Van Wassenhove’s house.
They rolled down the main street behind the defenses in darkness. NVDs were the handiest thing invented in awhile. The military liked to say American forces owned the night. With gear like this, Danny could understand why. While things had a greenish cast, the picture was clear as noon. They stopped the rigs four blocks from the target house.
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