Dead South Rising (Book 2): Death Row

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Dead South Rising (Book 2): Death Row Page 22

by Lang, Sean Robert


  The boy frowned, obviously disappointed in himself for not being able to answer his hero’s question. “She didn’t tell me. She just said to come and get help. Then she went back into the woods to help Miss Jessica.”

  David and Lenny again exchanged worried glances. And he could tell Lenny was thinking the same thing he was.

  Was it a shuffler? Did she get bit? Did it finally happen?

  It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. David could never live with himself if the last words spoken between him and his cousin were slathered in anger.

  Get out.

  It simply couldn’t end that way. With Natalee, their last conversation had been an argument. And that was putting it tamely. His last interaction with his daughter Karla had been less than pleasant as well. It couldn’t be that way with Jessica, too.

  The Janitor walked up on the trio. “Everything alright?” He locked his gaze on David.

  David stood, laying a blood-crusted hand on Gabriel’s arm. Urgency roiled his tone when he spoke. “You got this up here?” He was already moving his feet toward the tree line.

  Gabe nodded. “Infirmaries already fighting and bickering among themselves. That little demonstration did it, Dave. Got ‘em thinking ‘bout things.”

  “Good.” David was glad to hear it, but was anxious to get moving. “Listen, Jess and Taneesha might be in trouble—”

  “Go, go,” the Janitor said, shooing them like flies. “I’ll watch Bryan.”

  “Thanks,” David said. “And don’t let anyone touch that box against the front wall. I’ll get it later.”

  A nod and another wave.

  David called across the front courtyard. “Randy!” Then to Lenny, “You don’t happen to have a flashlight on you, do you?”

  Lenny shook his head.

  Turning his gaze to the darkening dusk, David added, “Still got a little daylight left. Ten, fifteen minutes tops, maybe. Hopefully won’t need one.”

  “Right.”

  David had already started heading into the field and into the high grass. “Randy! C’mon!”

  “Coming.”

  Since Luz was proven a phony, that left Randy as the highest ranking, most knowledgable medical professional on site. He wasn’t great with a rifle, and he was even worse with a pistol. But he was good with his healing hands, and depending on what they found in the woods, it’d be best to have him there. His skills could mean the difference between life and death for Jessica or Taneesha. Or both.

  Within seconds, Randy had sidled up to Lenny and David. “What’s up?”

  “Jess and Taneesha may be in trouble,” David said, now power-walking in the direction of the tree line.

  “What kind of trouble?” Randy tried to wipe off the blood and bits of flesh from his shoes by dragging them through the grass, all the while trying to keep up.

  Pointing, David told Lenny, “Ten o’clock.”

  “Got it,” Lenny replied, striding up to the perambulating menace that once delivered mail, come rain or shine. When it was alive. He yanked his hatchet, hitching the blade deep into the former postman’s forehead. The sloppy, wet thud still made David’s stomach turn, despite just having ground up a couple hundred of the beasts himself. He shook his head, tossing the thought and vision from his mind, and refocusing on finding Jessica.

  He increased his pace to a springy trot, just slow enough for Randy and his bulk to keep up.

  Having been interrupted by the dead, Randy reiterated his question.

  David replied, “Could be a run-in with shufflers.”

  Lenny chimed in. “They was supposed to wait down near the stock pond, but with what just went down—all the ruckus and all—I’m sure they come out of hiding. Probably scared up some rattlers, too.”

  Almost to the fence, David said, “Eleven o’clock.”

  “On it,” Lenny said, his hatchet already cocked high. He brought the blade down hard, splitting the beast’s skull like a ripe cantaloupe, minus the pleasant smell. He yanked out the blade, flinging blood to the ground. The body crumpled, it’s ghastly eyes rolling toward the first star of the evening.

  “Trail’s there,” Lenny said, pointing with his scarlet-streaked axe.

  David pulled a magazine from a pouch on his gun belt, reloaded El Jefe. After chambering a round, he pried open the barbed wire fence for the other two men.

  Randy went through first, ripping his shirt on the barbs, then stumbling out the other side. “Damn.”

  Lenny then helped pry the wire, and said, “Go on. I’m going over the top.”

  No time for niceties, David slipped through the strands.

  Lenny hiked his leg over the fence, clearing it without issue.

  In another second, the three men were moving again, single-file down the path, David leading the way.

  “Jess?” Randy called. “Jess? You out here?”

  “‘Neesha? Where you at, girl?” Lenny hollered.

  They continued pressing into the gloom, their footsteps heavy on the dry, compressed dirt, the light now dimmed thanks to the natural roof above.

  David’s nerves were winding up again. He couldn’t help it. Jess was it, his only blood family left. That he knew of, anyway. Both his parents had passed years ago, and he had no siblings. He considered Jess more than just a cousin. She was his sister. His inspiration. His conscience. She had saved him, physically and emotionally. He needed her. And now she needed him.

  The prospect of having to navigate the world without her only served to heighten his anxiety. And that sudden surge of guilt racked his mind and body. Would the last words spoken between them be ones full of anger and insult? He would apologize to her, take everything he said back the moment he saw her.

  “You hear that?” Lenny said.

  David and Randy halted. Listened.

  Laughing. Someone was actually laughing.

  Despite the dropping darkness now challenging his vision, David started to run. It was a dangerous thing to do, running through the woods. Very recently, he’d experienced first-hand the dangers of trying to negotiate the forest in the dark. Like in many a child’s nightmare, things jumped out and screamed boo! and tried to sink their teeth into you. A most unpleasant experience, to say the least.

  Laughter?

  “Jess!” David called.

  Women laughing?

  “‘Neesha! That you, girl? ‘Neesha?”

  Randy said, “Are they laughing?”

  Lenny cupped his hands around his mouth, his voice booming like a megaphone. “‘Neesha!”

  “Over here!” It was Taneesha’s voice.

  David started toward her voice right away.

  Thank the heavens and universe and Karma and any other force responsible for what little good was left. I owe you big time.

  He sped up, almost tripping over his own feet. “Is Jess okay?” he called.

  “She’s alright.”

  Thank you, thank you, thank you. Finally, something good.

  After another twenty seconds, the three men found the women. And an unexpected surprise.

  Chapter 25

  A picnic. They’re having a goddamned picnic out here.

  Of course, David knew better, but he couldn’t help thinking it when he spotted the women. He rushed up to them, his gun drawn, clutched in both hands, ready to fire on any threats—living or not. Bryan had implied they were in serious trouble. Or David had just surmised as much from the boy’s words. Bryan never said they were definitely in trouble, just that they might be. And according to Bryan, it had actually been Taneesha who said Jess might be in trouble. But in this world, one had to just assume the worst…

  The two women sat blocking the path, legs crossed beneath them. Taneesha was holding Jessica’s hand in a consoling manner, her other hand rubbing her back. And, strangely, they were both smiling.

  David lowered his pistol, glancing around. “Are y’all okay?”

  “We alright,” Taneesha said, head rocked back so she could look up at David
. “We handled it.”

  “That’s my girl,” Lenny said, as if the women had just won a Saturday afternoon baseball game.

  Two bodies nearby snagged David’s eye, though in the deceptive, wan light, he assumed they were dispatched shufflers, no longer a threat. Normally, the pungency would register, a full assault on the olfactory nerves. But after getting a whiff of two-hundred-plus dead shufflers, his sinuses were saturated with stink.

  Relaxing slightly, David holstered his pistol. “So neither of you are hurt? You’re okay?”

  The girls swapped quick glances. “Well,” Taneesha said, “we had a run-in with somebody.”

  “Who?” Lenny asked. He stood behind David, the path too narrow for them both.

  Taneesha dipped her chin toward one of the bodies. “Him.”

  “Who’s ‘him’?” David asked. “Was he alive?”

  The girls both nodded. Then Taneesha said, “Still is.”

  David stared hard at the women, his eyes questioning and brimming concern. Who living would attack them? And why? The only person he could think of—

  “Doc,” Jessica said through a hoarse croak. She rubbed her neck. “He attacked me.”

  David’s eyes fluttered. “Wait, Doc? Attacked you? He’s here?”

  “Right there,” Taneesha said, this time pointing him out. “I done coldcocked his wannabe cowboy ass.” She huffed. “Laying hands on a woman. From behind, no less. Ain’t no kind of man. Pitiful.” She turned to Jessica. “Ain’t too late to cut his nuts off and feed ‘em to him.”

  The comment ignited another round of giggling until Jessica’s laugh morphed into a violent coughing fit.

  David’s jaw locked in disbelief. Could it be? Could it truly be that the man causing him so much pain and grief was lying unconscious right in front of him? Could it really be this easy? A slew of bad thoughts spiraled through David’s mind. Torturous thoughts. Evil thoughts. Desires that made killing hundreds of shufflers seem like a day at the deli.

  “Need to tie him up or something, though,” Taneesha said when her laughing subsided. “I knocked his ass out good, but ain’t sure how long he’ll stay that way.”

  Randy piped up. “What are we gonna do with him?”

  Jessica said, “I say we—” She broke off into another hacking fit, groping at her throat.

  Taneesha finished Jessica’s thought for her. “We think we oughta tie his ass up to a tree and leave him for the rattlers. Aint’ that what you did to some bad dudes, David?”

  He didn’t hear them, their voices sliding away in an echoey mush. Completely within himself, David mulled over all the things he planned to do to Doc. Not simply bad things, but deserved things. How he’d make the man suffer, how he’d make him hurt, inflicting hellish pain little by little. He’d erase the man from this earth—one fingernail, one knuckle, one toe at a time.

  He felt weightless again, floating above the path. Gravity no longer applied to him, the only thing anchoring him to the trail were the heavy thoughts burgeoning within his vengeful mind.

  All eyes were on David.

  Finally, Randy said, “Um, we didn’t go through with it. We let them go.”

  “Oh. Well, seemed like a good idea, anyways,” Taneesha said, a tinge of disappointment in her tone.

  “So we gonna carry him outta here?” Lenny asked. “Or we gonna leave him for the rattlers?” The second question landed with an eerie thump on the ears of the group. Lenny simply wasn’t the type to even consider such an option—let alone recommend it—given his kind and caring disposition.

  Without warning, David reached across his body, ripped his 9mm pistol from its holster, and strode over to Doc’s supine body. He stood above the man, straddling him, glowering down at him. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he white-knuckled the gun dangling at his side.

  Anxious, tension-filled eyes darted around.

  Lenny sidled up to David, his voice low. “You okay, bro?”

  David simply continued to glare down at Doc, lost in himself, oblivious to anything and anyone around him. A shuffler could have had at him, and he wouldn’t have noticed. He was too busy dreaming. He dreamed of horrible things, excruciating things. Things that would leave Doc begging for a swift death. But David would not grant such a merciful reprieve. He wanted Doc to suffer forever. If that meant keeping him ‘alive’ in this purgatory they now found themselves in, so be it.

  With a cold and steady hand, David slowly aimed his pistol at Doc’s face.

  But instead of seeing a killer’s face, beautiful images of Natalee glowed on his vision. Once again, he was on that awkward date with her. Meeting her parents. On one knee. At the altar. In the hospital, holding Karla for the first time. Celebrating their five-year anniversary. Their ten-year anniversary. Mourning Karla’s death together. Then he saw her tied to a chair in their home, Sammy brushing his fingers against her cheek. Her dismembered hand in a cardboard box. Her heart…

  “Whoa, bro…” Lenny said. He laid a hulking hand on David’s shoulder. Leaning in close, he said, “I ain’t gonna tell ya how to handle your business. He’s a bad dude who’s done some bad stuff. I’m sure he deserves whatever dish you gonna serve him.” He glanced over his shoulder at the women. “But at least wait ’til we get the ladies—”

  David dropped to his knees, straddling Doc’s midsection, completely ignoring Lenny. Well, not intentionally ignoring him. His emotions were now piloting his plane, and he simply no longer heard the former pro-wrestler. Nor did David hear the gasps when he leaned forward, stabbing El Jefe’s barrel under Doc’s jaw. And he didn’t hear his own cruel words as he cursed the killer beneath him.

  He couldn’t feel the ground against his knees or the body beneath him breathing shallow breaths. He couldn’t feel the coat’s leather lapel in his tightly clenched fist. He didn’t feel the earth vibrate as Lenny stepped away. He couldn’t feel the tears tracking his cheeks. He felt no pain, no fear. Nothing. He could only feel the gun gripped tightly in his hand, and the hurt in his heart. He was distant and far away from those around him—on a magic carpet ride high in the sky.

  No one moved toward him, only away. There were whispers, low tones. Then silence. No one tried to stop him, only waited for the inevitable.

  And then, seemingly in an instant, everything came rushing back, like the earth to a free-falling skydiver. Things started becoming clear, visible. He heard the cicadas and crickets. The mosquito buzzing his ear. He saw the dirt path again, trees, and Doc below him.

  David’s head swiveled, and he glimpsed four silhouettes in the deep gray stillness, looming and unmoving. Leaves whispered and gossiped above, and somewhere, a twig snapped.

  “We’re taking him with us,” David said coldly. Something sinister swirled in his tone.

  “Alright,” Lenny said, “whatever you say.”

  David bristled, and a dangerous temerity surged within him, fueled by finding his wife’s killer unconscious in the middle of the woods. Fueled by standing up to Luz, knocking her off her self-proclaimed throne. Fueled by eliminating two-hundred-plus undead threats in one fell swoop. Despite all the bad, despite everything that had happened, he suddenly felt very much on top of a shitty world.

  * * *

  It seemed fitting, to David at least, that the same room used to imprison him and Gabriel now interned Doc. The modest space comprised four walls, a single door, and a cot. No windows, no closet, no other permanent furniture. Not even a clock on the wall. It worked well for solitary confinement, and David suspected that the architects designed the space as a storage room. Whatever the original purpose, it now served an important role. For David’s intentions, anyway.

  Randy being Randy suggested keeping Doc in the infirmary, near the nurses’ station. Specifically, in the room next door to David’s. Said that all the necessary tools and equipment to monitor the prisoner’s health were right there at his disposal, should the need arise.

  David reminded Randy that Doc was just that—a prisoner.
As such, Doc had no needs and no rights, other than confinement until further notice, which meant until David carried out Doc’s sentence. Those in the group assumed that meant death. Evidently, he made his point quite convincingly, because he got zero pushback from Randy.

  “He gonna live?” David asked. He stood behind Randy, who was again checking Doc’s vital signs. Above the men, a fluorescent light hummed steadily while washing the room in a sterile glow. Only one switch was on to conserve power.

  “Taneesha whacked him pretty hard.”

  “Is he gonna live?” David asked again, resting his hand on the butt of his holstered pistol. He respected Randy immensely, but sometimes the big man could frustrate him with his around-the-world answers.

  Apparently, Randy sensed David’s impatient agitation. “Yeah. He’ll live.”

  Randy scooted the stool back, pressed to his feet with a grunt, peeled off a latex glove. Adjusting his thick framed glasses, he said, “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t shoot him in the woods.”

  “I’ve got some questions he’s gonna answer first.”

  “Like?”

  David shot Randy a frigid look. “Like where the rest of Natalee is, for starters,” he said, his tongue a sharp blade of sarcasm.

  Randy twisted his lip, feeling the cut. He should have known better than to ask such a question. Speaking before thinking was something he needed to work on, even during the end of the world. “Right. Of course.”

  The knock at the door saved Randy further embarrassment, and they both turned to acknowledge the visitor. Randy seemed relieved.

  “Hey, Janitor,” Randy said.

  “Randy. Dave.” He dipped his chin at both men.

  “Gabe.”

  “So how’s he look?”

  Randy said, “Still out cold, but stable.”

  Gabriel took a step into the room, a wary eye on Doc. “Tell you what. Forget Texas. The bumper sticker should say, ‘Don’t mess with Taneesha.’”

  “You got that right,” Randy replied. “Lenny said she pitched a rock at him, then whacked him with a whiskey bottle. He really needs stitches, but David won’t—”

 

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