“Would have been nice to know that before,” I say.
Lorento notices the anger on my face and glances at Hoff.
“I’m not sure what you’re upset about, Scout,” Lorento smiles. “It’s not like I was hiding it from you. Did you have someone you wanted to call?” She holds out the satellite phone to invite me to take it from her.
I realize her point. A satellite phone wouldn’t be particularly useful to me.
“Couldn’t you have called for help before now?” I ask.
“Who exactly do you think is in any position to help us?” Lorento turns the question back on me. “We’re mostly on our own.”
“So who are you calling?” I ask.
“You’re not ever going to trust me, are you, Scout?” Lorento says. “That’s a shame.”
She turns and hobbles toward the back of the delivery truck and it takes a moment before I stop feeling like a jerk and realize she managed to get out of giving me any information. That sneaky bitch.
“Who is she calling?” I ask Hoff.
“You think I know?” he laughs. “That’s above my pay grade.”
I squint my eyes at him to get him to fess up if he is lying to me, too.
“What?” Hoff says. “I’m serious. I don’t know shit.”
“You better be telling the truth,” I warn Hoff.
Hoff holds his hands up in mock surrender, and then he steps away to help Fletcher prep the Osprey. I debate trying to go eavesdrop on Lorento by sneaking toward the back of the truck, but then I hear Stevie calling my name behind me.
“Hey kiddo,” I smile. I crouch down so that our faces are just a few inches apart. “What’s up?”
“Are you going to fly in the helicopter with me?” he asks.
“Not just yet,” I tell him. “First you and your dad are going for a ride, but later you will come get me and then we can go for another ride together.”
Stevie frowns and lowers his eyes to stare at his sneakers. I glance up at his father beside him. It isn’t hard to see he wants to say something to me as well.
“I really wish you wouldn’t go in there,” Steven says.
“I’d rather not go down there either,” I admit. “But I’m the only one that has been around that area before. I have to go.”
“I got a bad feeling about it,” Steven says.
“You always—” I begin.
“I know,” Steven says. “I always say that. But this time it’s different.”
Even though I don’t want to admit it, I know that he is right. This time it is a lot different. We aren’t just dealing with some mindless zombies. These are real people and that makes them much more dangerous.
“You’re right,” I agree. “I’m scared, too. But as long as I know Stevie is out of danger and he will still have you there to protect him, I know I can deal with whatever might happen.”
The sound of laughter makes us turn our heads and we watch as the dog chases after the little boy with the ball. The two of them being oblivious to the mood of everyone around them reminds me why I need to fight to protect that innocence, even if it means risking my life.
“He needs you,” Steven says. He lowers his gaze and shoves a rock around the tarmac with the toe of his boot. “More than me. More than anything.”
“No,” I shake my head. “He needs a world where hope still exists. Where he can have a chance at a normal life someday. That’s what he needs most. That’s what I’m fighting for.”
Steven stares at the pebble for a long moment. I anticipate him coming up with some other excuse to try and change my mind, but when he lifts his head he just stares into my eyes and nods. I stretch my arms out and wrap them around his shoulders and give him a hug. At first, the gesture seems to have taken him by surprise, but a moment later I feel his hands on my back.
“I don’t even care what happens to Bishop,” Steven whispers. “Just come back in one piece, Scout.”
“Don’t worry,” I assure him. “I’ll be fine. And, we’re going to kick his ass.”
I release my hold on Steven and try to smile to keep him from seeing how close to crying I am. Before he notices I turn and scoop up my pack and head toward the back of the truck to get myself ready to leave. I can only hope this won’t be the last time I get to see him and Stevie.
Thirty-eight
Even though the inside of the black van is still drenched in blood, the six of us cram inside the vehicle, along with the smelly dog, because it makes less noise and will be less noticeable in the darkness. We head out in the late afternoon, which will allow us a little time in case we run into trouble. Nothing is guaranteed anymore.
Quentin steers the van down the rural highway cautiously to avoid the debris in the road and keep an eye out for any possible threats. As we get closer and closer to the compound, the likelihood increases that we will run into one of their patrols. If that happens, it won’t just be the patrol we have to deal with. If they happen to tip off Bishop, we will lose the element of surprise and the whole operation could be in jeopardy.
“Can I ask you something, Lorento?” Blake says as strokes the scruffy hair on the skull of the dog.
Lorento waits for a long moment before she answers.
“Sure,” she says.
“How long did you know that massive horde was headed this way?” Blake asks.
“What makes you think I knew anything about that?”
“You didn’t seem at all surprised,” he says. “You also weren’t the least bit shocked when I told you how bad things had gotten on the other side of the Mississippi. So you must have known about all of it.”
From behind her sunglasses, Lorento stares through the windshield at the road.
“You’re a smart guy, Blake,” Lorento compliments him. She pauses to consider her words before speaking again. “I still get intel on a daily basis, and those briefings often include what has been observed from satellite surveillance.”
“How many of those things are we talking about?” Blake asks.
“It’s a sizable crowd,” Lorento says and brushes back a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “At least two hundred thousand. Maybe two or three times that many. The number grew substantially when the pack moved through the St. Louis area.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I interrupt. “You knew this whole time and you didn’t warn me about it. After everything I did for you?”
“Would it have made any difference?” Lorento asks.
“Maybe,” I snarl. I’m not sure how to answer her.
“Would you have decided to skip town instead of helping me, Scout?” Lorento asks.
“That’s not the point,” I say. “You lied to me. People died because I thought I should trust you.”
“God damn,” Quentin gripes. “Calm down.”
“You might not agree with the way I do things, Scout,” Lorento says. “But I never lied to you. I might not have told you everything, but I never lied. I don’t care what your opinion of me is. At the end of the day, I did what I had to do to try and save my country. I can live with that.”
Her speech makes me realize just how expendable we all really are in her eyes. At the same time, I can’t help but respect her sense of duty. In her mind, she has always done what she felt was best for everyone, even when it cost those around her their lives. I wish I could believe in what we are doing that much, but I am not sure I ever will. To me, this whole thing is personal. It always has been.
“Take this exit,” I tell Quentin.
“You sure?” Lorento asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “Bishop probably has eyes along the highway heading into Springfield. We can take the backroads.”
Quentin steers the van onto the exit ramp and we turn onto a small country road that runs for miles beneath the shade of towering trees. When we reach highway 65, I tell Quentin to take a left.
“This will take us straight into Springfield,” I say. “The entrance to the compound is just off this r
oad at the edge of town.”
The mood in the truck is tense with each passing mile. Natalie pulls a piece of gum out of her pocket and pops it in her mouth. Danielle chews on her bottom lip anxiously. I watch as Blake notices her tension and reaches out to grab her hand.
“We’re going to be okay,” he whispers to her.
He catches me staring at the two of them and he gives me an awkward smile and releases her hand. I almost want to apologize for staring. If anything, I wish he would have kept holding on to her hand. For some reason, just watching them was making me feel better, too. When I look through the windshield, I can see we are approaching the expressway along the north side of town.
“Pull over here,” I tell Quentin and direct him to a cemetery on the left.
“The cemetery?” Quentin asks. “For real?”
“We can’t drive any farther on this road,” I say.
“At least we know we won’t run into Dom in the cemetery,” Danielle says. I don’t understand why, but Blake and Quentin seem to find her comment pretty damn funny.
Quentin steers the van through the gates and drives through the rows of graves toward the back of the cemetery. We are greeted by the sound of crickets and buzzing cicadas as we get out of the truck. Night is not far off. There isn’t a lot of time left before we have to make our move.
“So how long did you know about that massive crowd heading this way?” Blake asks Lorento once again.
“About a week,” Lorento admits. “But I was never sure they would make it across the rough terrain out here. It seemed like hitting the Mississippi could potentially stop them altogether. But that only thinned their numbers slightly.”
“Guess we’re lucky some of them made it,” Blake says.
“Only if this operation works,” I say. “Otherwise we’ll be dead along with everyone inside the compound.”
“It will work,” Lorento winces. She retrieves the bottle of pain killers from her satchel and dumps a few in her hand. She quickly tosses them in her mouth and swallows them with a gulp of water.
“Easy,” Danielle snaps. “Christ, how many pills did you just take?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Lorento says. “I can take care of myself.”
“Oh my god,” Danielle rolls her eyes. “It’s not you I’m worried about. If you can’t think straight down there—”
“I appreciate your concern,” Lorento interrupts her. “But we don’t have time for this. Let’s move out.”
We grab our weapons and ammunition out of the truck and follow Lorento as she walks toward the road. Her shape is just a silhouette against the giant orange setting sun on the horizon. Even with a bullet wound in her leg, she moves along quickly, driven by a compelling urge to finish her mission.
“Anyone else a little worried about her?” Danielle asks.
“I still like our chances better with her here,” Blake says.
“Is she always so pleasant?” Natalie asks.
“You should see her when she isn’t on painkillers,” I say. “It’s not pretty.”
We move toward town through the woods alongside the road. Stitch leads the way, weaving between the trees and pausing now and then to lift his nose toward the sky and sniff the air. The pain medication seems to kick in and Lorento starts to move more fluidly as we tackle the tricky terrain. It makes me feel a little better about the amount of pills she took. Maybe she knew she couldn’t physically handle this otherwise.
We come to an overpass above the highway along the edge of town. A pair of parked humvees sit sideways in the road. We pause before we reach the edge of the tree line and wait for darkness to fall. As the sun dips below the horizon, the clouds turn orange, then blood red and finally cool to a soothing violet. A lone bullfrog that lurks nearby begins to croak.
Along the highway a corpse in a filthy denim shirt and ripped khakis shuffles past our position. The thing spots the soldiers on the overpass through the stringy strands of dark hair dangling over his face. It slowly wanders up the exit ramp toward the roadblock. One of the sentries eventually spots it and takes it out with a shot from a sniper rifle. The corpse falls to the ground immediately, but the sound of the gunshot lingers for a few moments in the air.
There isn’t another corpse to be found anywhere. The fact that Bishop was able to clear out this entire town is pretty remarkable. There must have been over a hundred thousand people living in this city before the outbreak. Somehow Bishop and his group not only survived here, they’ve actually started to rebuild.
“What happens if the dead go by north or south of here?” Blake asks. “They could miss this town completely.”
“They won’t,” Lorento assures him.
As though to explain her certainty, bright lights power on along the roadways that lead toward the underground office facility. The sounds of generators humming fills the dusky air. It looks like they have construction light stands along all the roads for several blocks around the entrance to the underground facility. The sight is pretty amazing after weeks of spending nights in total darkness.
“Pretty ballsy,” Quentin says. “Every corpse for miles is going to see and hear that.”
“Seems like they’ve done okay so far,” Danielle says. “It’s kind of amazing.”
“They haven’t dealt with anything like what is coming this way tonight,” I say.
The sound of twigs snapping draws my attention to the woods behind me. Stitch lets out a little whimper and sniffs the air. I listen closely for more sounds from the forest. It doesn’t seem like that horde could have gotten here so quickly.
“Is that them?” Danielle asks.
No one needs to ask what she is referring to. We all listen quietly for a moment.
“No,” Blake says. “We’d hear a lot more noise from a group that size.”
“It won’t be long before they do get here, though,” Lorento whispers. “Let’s get moving.”
Thirty-nine
We slide down the grassy slope toward the highway in the darkness. I keep my eyes on the overpass and the men that linger near the Humvees and exhale smoke from their cigarettes into the night air. The bright light from the portable construction lamps might make it easier to monitor the overpass, but it also makes it less likely that they will be able to see us moving through the darkness beyond.
After we cross the highway, we come upon a chainlink fence surrounding a factory. Quentin reaches into his pack and pulls out a pair of heavy duty clippers and begins snipping the metal to create an opening. The sound of the metal snapping seems so loud in the surrounding quiet. I keep my eyes trained on the sentries, listening to their voices as they talk casually. If I can hear them, it seems like they will certainly hear the noise we are making if they stop talking long enough to notice it. One of the men must have cracked a joke, because I can hear the sound of several people laughing in the distance.
“Got it,” Quentin whispers.
He pries the fence open to create a space for us to move through and holds it for us as we pass through into the empty lot. Even though we’re a block from the main road where all the lights and blockades are positioned, we could still run into trouble on our way to the compound. This is no time to get careless. If something happens to tip Bishop off, we might not have a chance in hell of walking out of there alive.
I follow Lorento along the side of the old brick factory and step through the glass of the broken windows as quietly as possible. We reach the front of the building and wait while Lorento scans the road. Once she is sure it’s clear, she scurries toward the street. I crouch down and hustle along behind her, keeping my eyes glued to the intersection to my right. There is another blockade, but I don’t see any signs of activity as I hurry to get to cover again. Once we all reach relative safety once again, we continue our advance along the corrugated steel building until we come to an open field.
We make our way through the tall grass cautiously. The rocky ground is tricky and full of ruts. I catch the scent of
pond water in the air and hear the sound of more frogs croaking in the darkness. It’s just a little further now. We eventually reach the end of the field and find ourselves in a lot with about a dozen trailers parked in the side by side. Crouched down between the large tires, we look beyond the trailers at a junkyard filled with the remains of damaged and cannibalized vehicles.
“How much further?” Blake asks.
“The back entrance is just on the other side of the road,” I say. “The sinkhole is just passed the train tracks a couple hundred yards beyond it.”
“Quiet,” Danielle whispers. “Do you hear that?”
We all listen in silence. The faint sound of distant moaning can be heard coming from the direction of the highway behind us. It’s a sound that you might not notice if you weren’t listening for it, but the second I heard it a chill runs down my spine. The dead are returning to take back this town.
“We need to hurry,” Lorento says.
She advances toward the front of the junkyard, crouching as she creeps alongside the rusty cars and trucks. We follow along behind her in a column until we reach a garage beside the road. From the back corner of the building we can see the rear entrance to the underground facility. The back loading bay doors are barricaded by eighteen-wheelers, but only a handful of men stand guard.
We move to the front of the building and duck across the road and use the tall weeds for cover. Beside the driveway of the back entrance there is a steep drop-off to a small pool of water. We make our way around the pond, keeping low and moving fast. My hands start to get slick with sweat and I can feel my heart racing in my chest. As we slip past the rear entrance, I begin to hear the sound of the massive crowd of the dead approaching. The radio held by a guard outside the building comes alive with chatter. Any minute now all hell is going to break loose when they figure out what is headed this way. As much as I want Bishop to get what is coming to him, some feelings of guilt creep up inside me when I think of the innocent people that have no idea what is coming. Maybe they aren’t any more innocent than us. I push the thought away. There’s no time for that now. Focus. People are still counting on me.
Rise of the Dead (Book 2): Return of the Dead Page 24
