Murphy's Law (Roads Less Traveled Book 2)

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Murphy's Law (Roads Less Traveled Book 2) Page 12

by Dulaney, C.


  I snorted when his face twisted with hate. The sniper on the other side of this idiot laughed too, but tried to stifle it as best he could. A few of the others down the line were smiling; it was obvious no one liked this asshole and was glad to see him getting back what he dished out.

  “What’s wrong, Warden got your tongue?” I egged him on, wanting him to react. Hit me, pull a gun on me, anything. I was past caring. His anger was fueled by his embarrassment, knowing the others were watching the new girl make a fool out of him.

  “You just keep talking, whore.” His voice lowered to a hiss. “You think you’re safe here? Just wait ‘til you’re not on this wall, then we’ll have a little fun.”

  I rolled my eyes dramatically and laid a hand on my chest. “Oh no, please don’t hurt me.” I suddenly leaned closer to him and clenched my jaw. “You just try it. Oh please give me a reason to blow your cocksucking face off.” Then I spat at his feet.

  The sniper on his other side stiffened, but kept his eyes glued on me. The idiot’s eyes grew wide and his cheeks flushed red. He drew back from me like I’d slapped him, his hand reaching for his sidearm.

  “You worthless cu─” he began, but was cut short by a barrel pressed between his eyes.

  The sniper behind him jumped to his feet. All down the line the others ceased their chuckling, shocked by the quick turn of events. I pressed harder and stared at the man in front of me. I noticed John come striding along the wall, one hand on his own pistol, the other wrapped around his radio. I took a breath and bent close before John could arrive to break us up.

  “Do it.”

  Harvel’s man stared back, all color having drained from his face. His eyes flicked to his gun hand. I could almost read his thoughts. Am I fast enough? Can I beat her?

  The short answer was no and he knew it.

  “Come on, you chickenshit. Draw your weapon.”

  Crimson flooded his cheeks and I saw something change in his eyes. Something snapping inside.

  He’s actually going to try it.

  “What the hell’s the problem here?!” John had arrived. He jabbed a thick finger at me. “Holster that piece! And you,” he kicked the bitch’s chair, “get that hand away from that grip and get the fuck off my wall!”

  Neither of us wanted to be the first to give in. It was a Mexican Standoff. We stared each other down, me intent on not lowering my weapon until Hell froze over, the bitch intent on coming out of this the victor.

  “Don’t make me repeat myself,” John growled.

  Harvel’s man actually smiled and moved his hand away from his sidearm, shoving his chair to the side.

  “I’ve had enough of you pussies, anyway.”

  John watched him until the bitch was halfway across the courtyard, and then he turned his steely gaze on me.

  I didn’t apologize, didn’t make any excuses. I holstered my weapon and waited for the verdict. The sniper who had witnessed most of the argument stepped up next to John and stood at attention.

  “I know you didn’t ask for my opinion, sir, but he had it coming. He was going for his sidearm. She was defending herself,” the sniper said. Murmurs of agreement from the other watchmen echoed behind him.

  John continued to stare me down, though I was beginning to have the feeling he wasn’t entirely unhappy with me.

  “You’re a pretty fast draw, young lady,” he said after a moment’s consideration. His voice was deep and gravelly, and I noticed for the first time he was old enough to be my dad.

  “Yes, sir, when I have to be.” I never broke eye contact with him. He didn’t scare me. Hell, after today, nothing much scared me anymore.

  “Are you as good with a rifle as you are with a handgun?” he asked. I patted the butt of my rifle.

  “Yes, sir, even when I don’t have to be.”

  “Are you going to be a problem?”

  “No, sir. As long as you or any of your men don’t ever try pulling a gun on me like that piece of shit did.”

  “Well, Miss, I don’t believe we’ll have a problem then.” The corner of his mouth curled just slightly, then he turned and barked out an order to the shooters down the line. “Eyes front! Show’s over, people!”

  John Solice turned his head and nodded once more to me, then walked down the wall to his place by the stairway. I watched all this with a raised eyebrow, completely surprised I wasn’t being led off to a prison cell for assault with a deadly weapon or some such shit. The sniper who had been sitting next to the idiot chuckled and got my attention.

  “Don’t worry, ma’am, you did us all a favor. Do you have any idea how long we’ve been waitin’ for someone to put that peckerhead in his place?” He stuck out his hand. “Name’s Lyle.”

  “Kasey,” I said, accepting his handshake.

  Well, one down, one to go. I only hoped everyone would react as reasonably when I buried lead in the Warden’s brain.

  Chapter Seven

  March 24th: Sometime Before Dawn

  “Psst, Jake,” Mia whispered. She’d been relieved from watch and had walked over to the west building to find her friend.

  She’d found him, sound asleep in a lawn chair with an empty Budweiser bottle between his legs and his rifle laying on the rooftop. His head was tipped back and he was snoring lightly, his arms slack and hanging off the sides of the chair, almost touching the gravel that layered the entire roof. He and Kasey had hit the alcohol hard after Zack’s funeral. The only difference was Jake had to report back for watch duty, Kasey had not. After much debate between Michael and the Warden, Harvel had finally been convinced to go back to shifts so people could get some sleep. The Watchers, as Mia called them, needed to be rested and sharp when the swarm finally arrived, and that wouldn’t happen if they were all forced to keep watch twenty-four hours a day. It was ridiculous, and she was happy Michael had gotten his way. So now Kasey was back in her room sleeping it off, and Jake was passed out drunk on the roof.

  Great.

  “Jake,” Mia said again, this time a little louder, and kicked the leg of the chair. Jake stirred slightly but quickly went back to snoring.

  “Might as well give it up, he’s been like that all night,” said a voice in the darkness off to Mia’s right. She turned and saw another watcher walking over, her rifle propped over one shoulder. “Are you the relief?”

  “No, I was on the east building. Just got relieved myself, thought I’d come over and see if he was free to leave or not. Apparently not,” Mia said and looked down at Jake. “I’m Mia, he’s a friend of mine.”

  “I’m Abigail, nice to meet you.”

  “How the hell am I gonna get him off this roof?”

  Abigail shrugged, then lowered her rifle and jabbed Jake in the ribs with the tip of the barrel. He grunted and rolled to the side, wrapping his arms around his middle, then proceeded to fall out of the chair. After a string of nearly inaudible cussing, Mia kneeled next to him and pulled back on his shoulder.

  “Hey, dude, let’s get you to your room, huh?”

  Jake mumbled again, trying to push himself to his feet but still too inebriated to do anything on his own. Mia snorted, glanced up at Abigail, who was smiling, then took a firm hold of Jake’s arm and pulled until he was on his feet. Swaying back and forth, he finally opened his eyes and noticed he had company.

  “Heeeeyyy, Miiaa! Where you been, girl?” His words were slurred but full of cheer. He clumsily grabbed her shoulder with one hand and searched the air wildly with his other. His half-closed eyes found Abigail, who he greeted just as warmly.

  “Abbyyyy!”

  She turned to walk back to her post. “You better get him to bed.”

  “Easier said than done,” Mia grumbled to herself, then bent to pick up Jake’s rifle.

  “Whoa…are we on a boat?” Jake swayed back and forth after Mia let go of him. “‘Fuck are we doin’ on a boat, dude?”

  He was about to fall backwards when Mia grabbed him by the shirt collar. With his rifle slung over her should
er, she wrapped his arm around her and started dragging him to the rooftop access door.

  “Come on you drunken ass, work with me here.”

  Jake was cackling and pulling this way and that, so drunk he had no idea where he was or what he was doing. His swaying caused them both to slam into the door, which brought another round of swearing and laughing from Jake. Mia just gritted her teeth, held her tongue, and did the best she could to get her drunken friend down three flights of stairs, across the courtyard, and into the residential building.

  She’d have to be an idiot not to understand what had caused him to drown his sorrows, it was the same reason she didn’t lecture Kasey on drinking again after so many years. Zack’s funeral had been very nice, but horrible at the same time. All this was obvious, but she had underestimated the effect it was going to have on her friends. She hadn’t really known how deeply it had affected Kasey until word had spread of her “confrontation” with Harvel’s man on the wall. She figured Jake would be okay, but she was afraid Kasey was beginning to self-destruct.

  All this was beside the fact that Harvel and his man would now be gunning for her. Granted, no one here liked the man or supported him, so most likely there would be a mutiny of some sort if he went after Kasey. But then again, these people didn’t know Kasey, and therefore had no reason to show loyalty to her instead of the Warden. Mia decided as she was dragging Jake up the two flights of stairs to the temporary quarters, that she would have to be extra careful and keep her eyes open, not only for herself, but for Kasey, Jake, and Nancy as well.

  “Alright man, here we are,” she said, struggling to turn the doorknob of the bedroom she’d been sharing with him and Nancy.

  She propped him up against the wall and finally got the door open. She hit the light switch, rested the gun in the corner, and walked over to his cot to pull the covers back. She had already moved her own cot into the room Kasey was sleeping in next door, stowing Zack’s gear and cot in the closet so Kasey wouldn’t have to look at it. There were only the four of them now, and she wanted to be close enough to her best friend that she could keep an eye on her and be there for her when she woke up in the middle of the night, which was bound to happen. Jake was mumbling to himself and chuckling in the hallway.

  “Did you see that duck?” Jake asked when she went out to retrieve him. He was staring down the hallway at nothing with one of those I’m-wasted-and-amazed-at-everything looks.

  “Yeah, I saw it. Big sonofabitch. Now come on.”

  “Heeyy, you’re not gonna take my clothes off, are ya?” Jake giggled, his eyes already closed when Mia threw him down onto the cot. She lifted his feet up and shifted his legs around, then took his boots off.

  “Nope, just your boots. Night, Jake.”

  She hesitated at the light switch and looked back at him. He was suddenly quiet and staring at the ceiling. He sniffled once, wiped his nose with the back of his hand, then rubbed his face.

  “Night, Mia,” he mumbled and drifted off to sleep.

  She hit the lights, pulled the door shut, and went to her new room next door.

  * * *

  “Dear God, how much did I drink last night?” I leaned against the bathroom sink and splashed water on my face.

  Mia leaned in the small doorway, finding far too much amusement in my suffering. “Too much. Come on, we’re gonna be late for breakfast.”

  “Don’t mention food.” I had to force down bile that had risen in my throat. My head was pounding, my guts were churning, and I think I was still slightly drunk. What had I been thinking?

  “Still, we need to get moving. I’m going next door, check on Jake,” she said and pushed herself off the door frame.

  “Yeah, yeah.” I splashed more water on my face.

  Nancy had already left for her shift in the infirmary that morning, and the three of us were to report for watch duty, except we were all on the wall this time. Made sense to me. If the swarm was tracking us, and no doubt they were, they’d eventually come at us from the front, which would be the northern face of the prison. It seemed logical to place all the best shooters on that wall, but then again, no one ever claimed the Warden had an overabundance of brains. It sounded to me like Michael and his men had finally gotten their way, again. It also seemed to me too much precious time was and would be wasted consulting, carrying out, then scrapping the Warden’s orders. One thing at a time. He would be dealt with eventually.

  After making sure the danger of puking had passed, I dressed, slung my rifle, grabbed my ammo, and headed out. I could hear Mia riding Jake’s ass next door and snickered. Poor Jake. Gus ran out of the room ahead of them, jumped against my legs in his customary greeting, then ran down the hall. At least someone was hungry.

  “Stick a cork in it, Jake! Let’s go!” Mia yelled and stepped out to join me in the hallway. She jerked her thumb in his general direction. “Puking his guts out, poor bastard.”

  “He deserves as much for getting me shitfaced last night,” I complained. My voice was hoarse and I was surprised by how tired I sounded.

  It was obvious we were joking about the situation to cover the real reason for it. Normally I’d be the first person to use comedy as a relief valve, but I just didn’t have it in me. Mia picked up on this pretty quickly and just grunted her agreement.

  “Alright! Jesus! Let’s go.” Jake finally stumbled out of the door.

  His clothes were wrinkled and messy from sleeping in them, and he had to jerk his rifle sling over his arm three times before finally settling it into place. I watched him patiently with a crooked grin. He stood there a moment, his eyes darting between me and Mia, then he jerked on his sling one last time.

  “What?”

  Mia and I chuckled, then we all headed for the cafeteria.

  * * *

  Gus had his nose to the ground, running ahead of us across the courtyard. Every few steps he would stop and raise his head, breathe deeply several times, then resume his tracking behavior. He wasn’t the only one who smelled it. The thick stench of death hung heavy in the morning air. It reminded me of what our local meteorologist used to say during the weather report on a particularly humid day: “The air you can wear.” Disgusting analogy, but fitting all the same. It sure as hell didn’t help my upset stomach.

  “They’re close.” Mia’s words were muffled by the hand she held over her nose.

  “No shit,” Jake replied. She elbowed him and walked on.

  The three of us kept looking up at the north wall without knowing we were doing it, our noses wrinkled and brows drawn together. Not everyone had reported yet for watch duty, though there were a few already at their posts. We passed more as we neared the cafeteria; all in a hurry and all carrying nothing more than a rifle and an ammo box.

  Gus was sitting obediently by the large doorway, waiting for us when we got there. That’s when I knew for a fact there was no way I was eating that morning; after getting a dose of rotten meat outside, then smelling eggs and bacon inside, I was shocked I wasn’t throwing up all over myself. I hung back a minute to allow my stomach time to settle, then followed a few steps behind Jake and Mia as they got in line with their trays.

  There were more people in the cafeteria than I had expected, and I didn’t recognize any of them. My head was pounding, I was feeling quite contrary, and all I wanted was coffee, so it seemed natural that everyone’s face was a blur as I bypassed the tray station and headed straight for the coffee table. I didn’t notice Michael making a beeline for me from across the large room, and I sure as hell didn’t notice the Warden and his bitch coming at me from the other direction. I was deep in thought, amazed at Jake’s ability to keep a straight face around food all the while knowing he was feeling as miserable as I was, when a large hand fell on my shoulder and spun me around.

  “Morning, Warden,” I said, annoyed not only by the hand on my shoulder, but also by the fact I held a steaming cup of joe in my hand.

  Gus growled at my feet, the hair between his shoulder blad
es stood on end, and he took one step towards the big man who was threatening his person. I stuck my foot out and touched him on the chest to stop him, never taking my eyes off the bastard who still had his meaty paw on me.

  “I want you out of my prison,” he hissed.

  The man beside him simply smirked, his hand resting on the pistol at his side. A repeat of the day before. I moved my eyes to the hand clamped on my shoulder and left them there until he got the hint. After a moment he let it drop to his side, but not without first giving me a little shove backwards. Gus growled again, and I was tempted to give him permission to attack. If the asshole standing next to the Warden hadn’t had his hand on his gun, I might have done just that.

  “Is that so?” I asked.

  It was slowly dawning on me that everyone in the cafeteria had suddenly stopped what they had been doing and was staring at us. Everyone, that is, except Mia and Jake. They’d dropped their trays onto the rack and were ready to fight. Both had their sidearms drawn and poised at their sides.

  “You’re damned right. You assaulted a prison guard, and if this were normal times I’d have you locked up so quick you wouldn’t know whether to shit or go blind. But since these are… abnormal times, well, I’ll settle for you getting your ass out of my prison. Right now.”

  As he spoke, he stepped closer to me, close enough that his stinking breath washed over my face. Just another addition to the rainbow of aromas my stomach couldn’t handle right now. I gritted my teeth, ran a dozen scenarios through my mind, painfully aware that everyone was watching and knowing that whatever happened next would seal my fate with these people.

  I took a deep breath, motioned Mia and Jake to stand down, and returned Harvel’s glare. Michael was standing behind me—at least I thought it was Michael—and his men were gathering around us in a loose circle. I opened my mouth before my brain had time to process the words coming out of it.

 

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