Murphy's Law (Roads Less Traveled Book 2)

by Dulaney, C.

  After the last shot was fired, I turned my back to Michael and his men and motioned for the others to join me at the door. I stood at the exit and waited for them to gather around, my arms crossed and my old nail-biting habit rearing its ugly head again.

  “What’s wrong?” Zack asked.

  All of them looked concerned; brows furrowed and mouths set in deep frowns. I took a deep breath then pointed between Mia and Jake towards the fence near the gate where a couple deadheads still clung to the wire even after their brains had been blown out.

  “We’re in deep shit here, guys,” I finally said.

  They looked confused for a second, most likely thinking I meant with the prison folk. It wasn’t until they saw where I was pointing that they finally got it. It hit them in the face like a brick, that sense of security we’d felt since arriving flying right out the window. Now they were thinking about what had happened in the goddamned IGA. Evidently it wasn’t an isolated occurrence.

  “What are we gonna do?” Jake asked.

  I stared at Nancy, who had been quiet the whole time, and waited until she met my gaze before dumping the question on her. She was skilled, smart, and had kept up so far, but these “runners” were another deal altogether. Let’s face it, Nancy wasn’t a spring chicken. If—and it was a strong if—we decided to move on after the convicts, I would’ve preferred it if Nancy stayed behind, safe behind these walls.

  “What do you think, Nancy?” I said, not a question as much as it was an order.

  “Let’s talk about this later,” she said. Michael was walking over to us. His snipers had reloaded and were pulling Pepsis from their coolers, trading good-humored jabs about the others’ shooting skills.

  “Shirley, get the clean-up crew over to the south gate,” he said into his radio.

  “Will do, Control out,” Shirley answered.

  He stopped and sighed heavily next to Jake, clipped his radio back onto his belt, then passed a hand across his forehead.

  “Let me ask you something, Michael,” Zack said.

  “Sure.”

  “You see many of those fast ones? I think you called them runners.”

  “Not until after the thaw. I’d say we kill four or five a week, until now that is.” He jerked a thumb behind him, gesturing towards the now very-dead pile of deadheads. “We’ve never had that many at once before. And we’ve never had problems with them climbing over the outer fence.”

  Zack and I looked at each other, his jaw working like he was grinding a piece of jerky, then around to the others, who were all in different states of subdued alarm. Michael watched all this with sympathetic understanding, waited until after we’d suppressed the panic and terror we were all feeling, then led us off the roof without a word.

  * * *

  “We need to find out if this guy knows anythin’, then get on the road. Time’s wastin’ here,” Jake whispered to Zack.

  Michael was giving us the tour of the compound, introducing us to everyone we ran into, and making his daily rounds before lunch. The incident earlier didn’t seem to have much of an effect on the people here; just another day in the joint I suppose. It had also seemed to distract him from our conversation earlier; he hadn’t said another word about it since. I was walking ahead of the others, next to Mike, so I wasn’t quite sure what Jake was on about, but I was sure it was pressing; he was whispering so fast he sounded like a balloon with a hole in it.

  “Just chill your ass out, Jake. I’m sure Kasey is working on it,” Zack replied.

  “I’ll chill your ass, you tell me that again. We should’ve been outta here already, but instead she’s takin’ her sweet damn─” Jake was hissing, until Nancy gave him a swift backhand to the head. He made a face and rubbed the back of it.

  “You shut your mouth, Jacob. Any more of that and you’ll get more than a smack upside the head,” Nancy said, chin stuck out.

  Jake was still pouting when I turned around to see what all the commotion was about. Nancy threw a smile on her face immediately, like nothing had happened. Michael had led us to a picnic bench in the center of the courtyard, so I decided to leave it alone for the time being and sat down next to him, the others piling in around us.

  “Well, it certainly seems like you’ve got things under control here,” I said.

  The weather was getting steadily warmer, temperatures well above normal for this time of year. The trees were in full bloom, leaves starting to replace the dead appearance of the woods. Flowers were blooming as well, and the first new grass of the season was already ankle-high. The smell of fruit trees carried through the air on a slight breeze. Pre-Z, this would have been a beautiful day. Still was, if you could forget about the horrors outside the walls of the prison.

  “Well, thank you, Kasey. We do what we can around here, but it wasn’t always like this. After…it first happened, things were pretty crazy. Chaos, that’s the only word to describe it. Luckily there were a few in town who kept their heads on straight those first few days. The mayor called a town meeting, and that’s when it was decided everyone would pack up what they could and come on over here. He’d been in contact with the warden, so it was all squared away by the time we finally got folks together and moving.” He stopped and seemed to drift away for a moment, no doubt remembering what it had been like that first week or so.

  I waited for what seemed like a reasonable amount of time before cutting through the bullshit and getting to the point.

  “Listen, Mike, like I said before, we’ve been on the trail of a group of prisoners, not from here, from over in Cedartown. We’re guessing they were headed towards the river, to cross into Ohio. That’s what we were doing when you and your men found us.” I figured that was a good reminder.

  Michael stared at me so long after I finished I thought he was having a petit-mal seizure or something. I was about to snap my fingers in front of his face when I saw his jaw clench, then he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Yep, that had jogged his memory.

  “Yeah, I know just the fuckers you’re looking for.” He jerked to his feet and started off towards the housing section of the complex.

  “What? Was he done?” Mia asked.

  We were looking at each other, once again with that what-the-hell look all over our faces, which I’m sure would happen plenty more before this never-ending carnival of horrors was complete. I shrugged and wiggled my way out of the bench, pushing Zack and Jake out of the way, and hurried to catch up with Mike, gesturing back at the others for them to hustle. I caught up with the seething man just as he entered the building. Instead of taking a left towards the sleeping quarters, he took a right, and strode straight to a door at the end of the hallway.

  He fumbled with a large key ring until he found the right one and slipped it into the lock. By this time everyone else had caught up and was holding their breath, watching and waiting to see what had crawled up Michael’s butt. I was a little shocked when I saw what was on the other side of the door, but really, I don’t know why I would have been. It was a prison after all, and just because the world had gone to hell didn’t mean crime was taking a vacation.

  “This way,” Michael said, barely missing a beat. The door swung wide and he stomped briskly to the end of the right-hand row of cells.

  The others hung back a bit, leaving me to catch the brunt of whatever was about to blow. He came to a stop at the very last cell and kicked the bars with his steel-toed boot.

  “Hey! Get your ass up, you got visitors!”

  There was a man lying face down on the bed. The guy was big, and dressed in a filthy orange jumpsuit. I don’t have to tell you what was written across the back.

  “Son of a bitch.”

  I took a step closer to the bars. Michael was standing off to the side, his arms crossed and looking mad as hell. I glanced at him when the prisoner didn’t respond.

  Michael just tipped his head in the guy’s direction and flared his nostrils. “This guy was with the bunch you’re looking for. They cam
e through here a few months back, intent on raiding Blueville. What they hadn’t counted on was us being there. Call it luck, call it coincidence, whatever, but we were there, loading up more supplies for this place, when they came through. Let’s just say not many of those thieving bastards survived. A few of our people died, and a few of them got away, but this piece of shit was found among the bodies afterwards.”

  No wonder he was pissed. I knew the feeling well, and was getting reacquainted with it when Jake appeared at my elbow. I knew what he was thinking, because I was thinking the same thing. It wasn’t until he put his hand on mine that I realized my fingers had been curled around the butt of my pistol.

  “Not yet,” he cautioned.

  I gritted my teeth and glared at him. Still, I knew he was right. We’d be screwed if I went all OK Corral on the prisoner. Michael was fumbling with the keys again and mumbling something, so Jake pulled me away from the bars. Michael unlocked the cell, opened the door, and stepped inside. Zack, Mia, and Nancy had finally come up behind me, just in time to see Michael grab the prisoner by the hair and yank him right off the bed. The guy yelped and grabbed at Michael’s hands, but was tossed around like a rag doll. This dude was twice as big as Michael. Don’t ever say anger makes you weak.

  “Stand up!” Michael shouted again. He grabbed the prisoner around the throat with his other hand, his fingers still curled in the big guy’s hair, a nice old handful he threatened to rip out at any second.

  “‘Fuck you want man? I didn’t do nothin’!” the prisoner shouted back.

  That was a mistake.

  With reflexes that would’ve made a cat jealous, Michael let go of the guy’s throat and grabbed the other side of his head, yanking down hard as he brought his knee up. Nose and knee collided with a sickening crunch. The prisoner started screaming and tried to put his hands over his nose, but Michael sucker-punched him in the guts and then kicked him in the right kneecap. Now the prisoner was howling in pain and kneeling on his good knee, his other leg stuck out stiffly to the side, blood gushing from his nose, and fighting back the urge to puke after the gut shot.

  “Now, you’re gonna answer the lady’s questions, or I’ll throw your bleeding ass over the fence.”

  I was at a loss for words after seeing that. Sure, the prisoner deserved that and more, but damn. The prisoner shuffled himself around until he was looking in my general direction. I cleared my throat a few times, not wanting to appear weak in Michael’s or my friends’ eyes, and asked the first thing that came to mind.

  “Where are the others?”

  “I don’t know, man, honest to God I don’t.”

  “Bullshit. Where are the others?”

  “Aw shit, I’m tellin’ ya, lady, I don’t know,” he whined.

  Apparently Michael didn’t like his tone with me; after the lady bit, he kicked him in the back of his left thigh. The prisoner screamed again, then started crying. I was disgusted with the scene he was making.

  To Michael I said, “Might as well throw his ass over the fence. He’s no use to us, and all he’s doing for you is eating up your supplies and wasting space.” I turned my back and acted like I was leaving, convincingly enough that Nancy, Zack, Mia, and Jake started to follow me.

  “Noo, NO! I’ll talk, I’ll talk!!” the prisoner cried, attempting to scramble away from Michael. I turned around, held up a hand to stay the others, and raised an eyebrow at the beaten prisoner.

  “I’m listening.”

  * * *

  “Gus!” I barked on my way to the barn.

  He’d been playing in the courtyard with the only kid I’d seen in this place. The others followed me, practically jogging to keep up. Michael had disappeared somewhere near the Control Room. I really didn’t care. Bigger fish to fry and all.

  “Wait a second, Kase, let’s talk about this,” Mia was pleading.

  We were in the barn by this time, Mia grabbing at my elbow trying to slow me down. Nancy wasn’t sure what to think. Jake and Zack were quiet as well, but not Nancy-quiet. Theirs was a little more intense. I walked straight through the barn and out the door on the far end; my horse was in the pasture behind. Zack and Jake followed my lead and grabbed their own mounts by the halters, then without a word, followed me and Daisy back inside to get saddled up. Our gear had been stowed in an empty stall, so after getting my horse saddled and ready, I dug around our supplies and took what I would need.

  “Mia, get your horse,” I said after she finally piped down.

  She frowned, but went back into the pasture. The guys were ready and leading their horses outside. Gus and Nancy simply watched, waiting for me to fill them in on their part of the plan. I waited for Mia to saddle her mount and stuff some supplies into her saddlebags, then handed her my reins and told her to take Daisy out, I’d be there in a minute. With a curt nod, she joined the boys outside.

  “Nancy,” I said and took the woman by the shoulders. “I want you to stay here. It’s nothing against you, or your skills. But we’re going to be hauling ass, and if something happens to one of the horses, and we have to run…” I let the rest of my statement hang in the air. She knew the second we stepped foot in this place that she’d be staying if the rest of us left.

  “Just take care of Gus, and we’ll be back before you know it,” I said, then squeezed her shoulder and turned to leave. Nancy grabbed my arm and spun me around, wrapping me in a shockingly strong bear hug. I wheezed and crushed her in return.

  We walked out together, and she smacked me once on the hip when we parted ways and went to her grandson. I checked my weapons, made sure they were all locked and loaded, and double-checked my supply of ammo.

  “I’m assuming you’re going to let us all in on your plan, right?” Zack murmured next to me.

  I nodded, then looked over at Mia; she was going through the same pre-game warm up. She finished and returned my stare before saddling up. Jake and Nancy said their goodbyes, he tried to pretend he wasn’t embarrassed, then she called Gus and they walked off. That little four-legged bastard didn’t look back. Not even once. I tried to tell myself that was a good thing, that he knew I was coming back. At least I was hoping that’s what it meant.

  “Kasey!” Michael shouted. I saw him jogging across the courtyard with three other men. Zack and Jake mounted up while I waited to see what this was all about.

  “Glad I caught you,” he panted, then motioned his men over to me. “Here, take these. I noticed none of you were carrying melee weapons, so here you are. I hope you don’t need them.” Michael handed me a hammer. I looked at it stupidly.

  “Are you kiddin’ me? A hammer?”

  Yes, I’d read The Zombie Survival Guide as many times as the next guy, but my whole Z-Plan revolved around not getting close enough to the deadheads in order to fight them in hand-to-hand combat. Eww, no thanks. Just stay the hell away and put one between their eyes from a safe distance. A hammer, or a nice hatchet, would have been really handy back at the grocery store. I sure wasn’t going to admit that.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking about getting one of these ever since what happened back at the IGA, remember, Kase?” Zack said. I rolled my eyes and sighed.

  “Yeah, I remember.” I took the hammer and slipped the handle through my belt so it hung by the claw end. “Thanks, Michael, we’ll be back as soon as we can. But if something happens, you take care of Nancy, alright?”

  “Of course, don’t worry about a thing. They’ll both be well taken care of. Keep your eyes open, ride hard, and there’ll be a place here for you when you get back.”

  He straightened and gestured towards the three men with him, who’d just finished doling out a few hand weapons to the others; a machete for Zack, a policeman’s nightstick for Mia, and a crowbar for Jake. The guys were happy, turning the heavy steel in their hands, a disturbing smile curling both sets of lips.

  Mia, on the other hand, not so much.

  “Uh, thanks. Don’t plan on getting that close, but thanks,” she said and s
tuck the nightstick in a leather loop close to her saddle horn. The man closest to her tipped his hat and walked over to where Michael and I stood, along with the other two men.

  “This is Calvin, or Cal, one of our best marksmen. And that’s Martin and Smith. I’ll gladly send them with you, if you think you’ll need extra backup,” Michael offered with a worried look in his eye.

  “No. I appreciate that, but no. You need all the rifles here you can get. We’ll be fine.” I waved the men off with gratitude and mounted up.

  “Open the gate,” he said into his radio.

  I tried to smile, failed miserably, and led my gang through the courtyard. I heard someone sigh behind me, someone else clear their throat, and various creaking sounds of someone getting comfortable in a leather saddle. I took my own deep breath as the heavy steel gate was slid open and we rode through. One of the folks there, a woman, threw her hand up in goodbye. I jumped a little when the gate slammed shut behind us.

  Halfway to the fence gate I turned around for one last look back. Michael and Nancy were on the north wall next to one of the watchmen, above the entrance gate, watching us leave. The guards opened first the inside, then the outside gate. They said a few bye-be-carefuls to us, which we thanked them for, then turned our eyes to the winding, down-sloping road ahead. Once the prison was out of sight, Jake spoke up, breaking the deathly silence that had fallen over all of us.