“Big,” I sigh. “I trailed the group back to the underground compound but I never got inside. I just staked the place out for a day, watched trucks coming and going. Security was tight. I’d guess he has to have at least two or three hundred people in there. Could even be a lot more than that.”
“Where?” Lorento asks.
“Near Springfield. It’s one of those massive storage and manufacturing facilities built into the rock.”
Lorento turns her head and stares at the trees and considers the information. After several moments she lowers her gaze.
“Anything else?” she adds.
“Sorry, that’s everything I know,” I say.
“You’ve been a big help, Scout,” Lorento smiles.
“Wish I could help more,” I sigh.
“Maybe you can. Do you remember how you got to the compound?”
“Sort of. I’m sure I could find my way back there, but I don’t remember the names of any of the roads to give you directions.”
Lorento crosses her arms and stares down at her boots and considers my response.
“You mind if I ask you something?” I say.
“Depends on the question,” she says. “But you can try to ask me anyway.”
“What do you guys want with Bishop?”
“It’s kind of a long story,” Lorento smiles. She clearly finds humor in throwing my own excuse back at me.
“Give me the short version,” I insist.
“Let’s just say he has something of mine,” she says. “And I want it back.”
The door of the clothing store swings open and James steps out onto the porch. I get up from the bench when I see Fawn pushing through the door behind him. She peels a pair of bloody latex gloves off her hands and tosses them on the ground.
“He’s going to be okay,” Fawn sighs and wipes the sweat from her brow with her forearm.
I spread my arms and wrap them around her and pull her close.
“Thank you,” I say. “You’re amazing, Fawn.”
“I bet you say that to all the paramedics,” Fawn laughs. “Now, he’s pretty banged up and lost a bit of blood, so it’ll be a few days before he fully recovers.”
“Can I go see him?” asks Stevie.
“Sure,” smiles Fawn. “Just stay quiet and let him take it easy so he gets better.”
Stevie nods, and then he runs inside the store.
“You must be James,” Agent Lorento says. She moves past me and extends a hand out toward James.
“I am,” James smiles. He slowly reaches out to touch her delicate hand.
“Agent Jessica Lorento,” she announces. “Scout tells me you’re the man in charge.”
James glances at me. He smirks and crosses his arms.
“I guess you could say that,” says James. “But I like to think we’re all equals here.”
Lorento nods.
“I just want to say I really appreciate what you did for Scout and Steven. There aren’t too many people willing to stick their neck out to help someone else anymore.”
“That’s very true,” agrees Lorento.
“So, if there is anything we can do to repay you, just ask. We don’t have much of anything to offer in the way of supplies.”
“Actually,” begins Lorento, “I was hoping you might be willing to come along with us. The fact is we have a common enemy and so the smartest thing we can do is work together.”
James shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans and sighs. His brown eyes stare down at his cowboy boots for a long moment as he considers the offer.
“I see,” James says. “We’ll need a minute to talk it over.” He looks at me and jerks his head then moves toward the doorway of the store.
“Of course,” Lorento agrees. She turns and heads back toward the soldiers gathered near the military vehicles.
“I’m not sure about all this, Scout,” James says.
“We don’t really have a choice. Bishop knows we’re in this area,” I explain. “He’s going to come looking for us soon. At least with these guys we stand a fighting chance.”
James settles his gaze on me. His weary brown eyes plead with me to say something that will convince him of the right decision.
“Bishop isn’t a guy we can reason with. Steven and I would be dead if these soldiers didn’t show up,” I say. “We can trust them.”
“All right then,” James agrees. “Let’s load up.”
Seven
There is hardly room for all of us after we load the pickup and the military vehicles with our supplies. I help Stevie climb into the front seat of the bullet-riddled truck and hand Fawn the keys.
“I’m going to ride in one of the Humvees,” I tell her. “See if I can find out some more information.”
“I’m still not sure about this,” Fawn sighs. “These guys want us to fight with them. We’re not soldiers. We are doing just fine on our own.”
“No,” I tell Fawn as I close the truck door. “I know how you’re feeling, but we were not fine. We need all the help we can get.”
I give her a hug and as I look over her shoulder I notice Hoff and the two women from the diner getting into the other truck.
“It’s going to be fine,” I assure Fawn, then I let go of her and walk toward the Humvee.
I still haven’t had a chance to talk to the women from the diner either. Lorento seemed to think they are probably harmless, but I have to find out what their deal is, and whether or not we can actually trust them.
“You riding with us?” Hoff asks me as I approach him.
“You got room?” I ask him back.
“Sure,” Hoff says. He turns to Morris in the passenger seat and jerks his thumb and the soldier gets out and heads for the other Humvee with Lorento and the rest of the squad.
I climb into the truck and glance back at the two women from the diner in the backseat. Now that I actually take a closer look at them, I notice the bruises and the red marks around their wrists. It makes me curious what kind of nightmare they went through, but also a little afraid to ask.
“I never caught your names,” I say.
“I’m Val,” says the young girl with a long brown ponytail. She looks up from her hands that are tucked between her thighs and looks at me. “Valerie. That’s Nicole.”
“I’m Scout,” I smile. “Are you doing okay?”
“These seats are brutal,” Nicole complains from the backseat. “But other than that.”
“We’re fine,” Val says. “Now that we got away from those assholes.”
“Lorento tells me you were inside their compound?” I ask.
Valerie nods. Hoff starts the truck and I wait for the loud engine to turn over and begin idling to speak again.
“What was it like in there?” I wonder.
“Horrible,” Val shudders. “It’s the worst place imaginable.”
“Quit being so dramatic,” Nicole snaps. “The worst thing about that place was having to listen to her whining the whole fucking time.”
“Shut up, Nicole.” Val brings a hand up and wipes a tear from under her eye.
“Listen,” Nicole says to me. Her gritty voice grates my ears like sandpaper. “There aren’t exactly any four star hotels around anymore. It’s safe there. As long as you keep your mouth shut and do what you’re told, you get to live.”
It almost sounds like Nicole would consider going back if she could. Maybe they didn’t have it good there, at least she was alive. For some people surviving is all that matters. It was less frightening than facing the uncertainty of the world outside.
“Do you have an idea how many people are there?”
“A lot,” Val says. “A couple hundred men are in the militia. The rest are just regular people.”
“Why don’t they do something about Bishop and his thugs?” I ask.
“The militia keeps them safe,” Val says. “The only reason they are there is because they aren’t the kind of people that can survive on their own. We all kno
w Bishop is a monster, but he was also our only hope to stay alive.”
“At least they had cigarettes there,” Nicole adds. “Don’t suppose you got any of those? I get real cranky if I don’t have some.”
That explains a lot.
“Sorry, I don’t smoke,” I tell her. “But I’ll see what I can do.”
Nicole murmurs and sighs and turns her head to stare out the window again.
“They have a lot of supplies there?” I ask Val.
“Sure,” says Val. “They’ve got everything. Clothes. Food. Anything you want as long as you have something to offer them.”
“Like what?” I say, but Val doesn’t need to answer. She looks down at the floor and presses her lips together.
“The things I would do for a pack of smokes right now,” Nicole sighs.
Hoff folds up the map in his hands and glances at the side mirror to see if the rest of the trucks are ready to go. I can’t tell for certain if he was paying attention to the conversation at all. He clears his throat before he reminds us to buckle up.
“You think they’d at least put a little cushion in these things,” Nicole complains as she shifts in her seat.
“Get comfortable being uncomfortable,” Hoff says as he shifts the truck in drive.
We drive a few miles in silence down the open country road. I glance over at Hoff and notice the name stitched on his uniform. It is different from the name Lorento called him by. His eyes stare at the road before him without moving or blinking for some time.
“Why do they call you Hoff?” I finally ask him.
“Huh?” he says. The soldier takes his eyes off the road quickly to glance in my direction.
“The name on your uniform says Lewis,” I say over the noise of the engine. “So why does everyone call you Hoff.”
Hoff grins. The question seems to lighten his mood a bit.
“You ever seen Knight Rider?” Hoff laughs. He turns the wheel and accelerates onto the highway.
I shake my head.
“You know David Hasselhoff?” He turns his head to spit a sunflower seed shell out the window.
“I think so,” I nod.
“Well, David Hasselhoff plays this guy with a talking car. When I first joined up with the squad the guys always made fun of me for talking to Lucille. That’s what I called her. Lucille was a real beauty, a 69’ Camaro SS, all black,” he grins.
I return his smile and shrug. I don’t know shit about cars.
“So anyway, they started calling me Hasselhoff, but eventually that got shortened down to Hoff.”
“I see. Does everyone have a nickname?”
“Sure,” Hoff nods. “Like Morris. We call him Motown on account of his singing.”
“He can sing?” I say.
“No,” Hoff grins. “He most definitely can not sing.”
We both laugh.
“Everybody gets a nickname. We still got to pick one for Hernacki. He just joined up before the shit hit the fan so we haven’t figured out what to call his dumb ass yet.”
“What about Piper?” I ask. “How’d he get that nickname?”
“You don’t want to know.” Hoff laughs and shakes his head.
“You’re probably right,” I blush. “I don’t think I want to know.”
“What the hell kind of name is Scout for a girl anyway?” he asks. “Is that your real name?”
“Real enough,” I say.
Hoff grunts. He steers the car into the opposite lane to avoid a corpse in the road.
“I’m still kind of surprised,” I change the subject. “We didn’t think there was any government left.”
“What makes you think there is?” Hoff asks me.
“You guys seem like you’re following orders of some kind,” I explain. “That means there must be someone calling the shots, right?”
“Hardly,” Hoff shakes his head. “We haven’t had contact with any military or government personnel since we left Chicago. Personally, I don’t think there is any one left to give orders.”
“So what are you guys doing out here?” I ask.
“That’s classified.”
“Who cares? You just said there is nothing left of the government.”
“Classified is still classified until someone says it isn’t,” Hoff explains.
“Forget I asked.” I roll my eyes. This conversation is getting me nowhere. The truth is I don’t really care about what Lorento and the soldiers want to accomplish. It doesn’t matter anymore. No one can fix this deep shit we’re in. It’s too late for that. The only thing that matters now is that we might stand a better chance of surviving tomorrow.
Hoff steers the truck to the right onto a country road heading north and keeps his eyes on the road to avoid my stare.
“You planning on staring at me the rest of the way?” Hoff finally asks.
“Maybe,” I tell him.
The soldier grins and shakes his head.
“Can you at least tell me where we’re going?” I press him. “I don’t like being left in the dark.”
Hoff glances over at me and considers my expression for a moment. Then he turns and spits a sunflower seed out the window.
“Iowa,” he says. “We’re headed to Iowa.”
“Iowa?” I ask. “I thought we’d be headed to the military base. What the hell are we going to Iowa for?”
Hoff takes his gaze off the road and raises an eyebrow at me.
“Right,” I grunt, and roll my eyes. “Let me guess. It’s classified.”
“You catch on quick,” he laughs. “Sorry Scout, if you want more info you’ll have to grill Lorento. She’s running the show.”
“Something tells me that won’t go too well,” I mutter.
“She’s a real piece of work, ain’t she?” Hoff laughs.
“I thought she was just having a bad day,” I say. “Please don’t tell me she is like this all the time.”
“No,” he says. “She is usually way worse than this.”
“Good to know,” I laugh.
“Just be sure to stay on her good side,” Hoff grins.
Eight
We ride along the empty road through the Mark Twain National Forest without any signs of trouble. I know the rest of the trip is probably not going to be this easy. The drive to Iowa might have only taken six hours or so before, but now it might take several days if we’re lucky. There is no telling what we might run into along the way. The dead swarm the streets of every small town. We could try to stick to the backroads, but even that isn’t exactly safe.
As nightfall approaches, Hoff pulls the Humvee to a stop in front of a small tire shop that sits about a quarter-mile down the road from a small town. The population, according to a sign on the side of the road, used to be nearly seven hundred people. It doesn’t seem like a lot until you see their bodies all prowling the street in search of food.
“Looks pretty good,” Hoff says as he shifts the truck in park.
I get out the truck and scan the area. The windows and front door of the building still appear secure. June bugs buzz in the surrounding trees. The pink clouds in the west shroud the setting sun. I stare at the sky a few moments. Fireflies flicker in the dusky light. It looks like I will make it through another day.
Barely.
“Check it out, Hernacki,” Lorento says. She slides out of the passenger seat of the other Humvee and glances at the surrounding trees on each side of the road.
Hernacki straps on his helmet and readies his rifle with precision as he hops off the rear of the truck.
“Move it, kid,” Lorento urges him. “We don’t have much daylight left.”
The rest of the soldiers remain stationed with the vehicles as Hernacki approaches the store. Lorento folds her arms across her chest and leans back against the passenger door of the truck.
“You a meteorologist or something?” Lorento asks me.
“What?” I ask.
“You keep looking up at the sky,” she says. “I notice
d you doing it several times already. At first, I thought maybe you were praying, but you don’t strike me as the religious type.”
“No, I wasn’t praying,” I shake my head. “I watch for vultures.”
“Vultures?” Lorento cocks an eyebrow at me. “I never pegged you for a birdwatcher.”
“Not like that. It seems like the birds have started to follow the dead around,” I say. “They stalk the large crowds. A few will also hang around if one of the stiffs gets stuck or can’t move. They feed off it for days until there is nothing left but bones.”
Lorento glances around the treetops as she listens.
“If you see vultures,” I continue. “There’s trouble nearby. The more you see, the more trouble you got.”
“And when you don’t see any birds around you know it’s clear?” Lorento asks.
“Well, no,” I concede. “It might just mean you have a different kind of trouble to worry about.”
“You’re pretty resourceful,” admits Lorento. “I hadn’t noticed that about you.”
“You seem to be paying pretty close attention,” I say.
Lorento flashes a smile then turns her head to watch Hernacki as he emerges from the shop.
“We’re in luck,” Hernacki says. I turn to see the soldier holding the front door of the building open. He grins and waves us over. “The door wasn’t even locked.”
“Keep it down, Hernacki,” Hoff scolds. He closes the door of the Humvee and drapes the strap of his rifle over his shoulder.
“All right, clear the entire building and get the trucks in the garage,” Lorento tells the men. “Don’t screw around. It’s almost dark.”
The soldiers ready their rifles and line up on each side of the entrance. One by one the men vanish into the darkness of storefront. Lorento retrieves a satchel from the back of the Humvee and pulls out some kind of electronic device. She stands at the back of the vehicle looking at the screen with her brow furrowed. At first glance it looks like a cell phone, but when I look more closely I notice it’s something else. My curiosity gets the better of me and I decide to approach her. Lorento notices me out of the corner of her eye as I get close and she quickly shoves the device back in the satchel and pulls the strap over her soldier.
Rise of the Dead (Book 2): Return of the Dead Page 5
