“It's a heat seeking tracker,” he said.
“I'll show you, Mommy.”
Fei Yen aimed the device around the tavern. As she passed the outside wall, it revealed dark movement.
“What's that?” Ming asked.
“That's them,” Hunter replied. “It has a range of fifty feet or so. There must be more approaching.”
There was the sound of gunfire. Hunter offered a smile and pointed to the roof. “They're on top of it.”
Ming returned the device. “We'll let you get some sleep.” She looked at her daughter. “Say good night to Hunter.”
“Good night, Hunter.”
“Good night, dear.”
†
Twenty or more zombies piled against the entranceways on both sides of the hotel. More aimlessly wandered the grounds. The hotel appeared peaceful despite the groans of the zombie horde. A small group of zombies knelt over a dead man and picked him apart. As they feasted on his flesh, the man twitched and sat up. Most of the flesh on his face was missing, revealing his jawbone, cheekbone, and left eye socket. His right arm was torn off, and most of the flesh was missing from his left thigh. As he stood, his insides spilled out onto the ground. The group of zombies surrounding him suddenly lost interest in this one as their snack. They stood and roamed around aimlessly with the others.
†
Jetta and Bishop entered the well-appointed guestroom with two queen beds and a view of the ocean. Jetta turned on the light and looked around while Bishop shut and locked the door behind them. She had never been inside the guestrooms before. The guestrooms were actually rather stunning with expensive bedding, tasteful furniture, and exquisite artwork. Of course, for what they charged for the rooms, Jetta assumed they should be stunning.
“You have to admit, the look on Carter's face was priceless,” Bishop said with a devious grin.
“I can imagine mine wasn't far from his,” she replied. “I appreciate your assistance in sticking it to Carter, but a little heads up would have been nice.”
“So you're assuming my offer was just to annoy Carter?” he asked.
She cast a glare at him and sharply raised her brows. “I suggest you stick with that story, if you know what's good for you,” she replied with a tiny smile on her face.
“After the day I've had, you'd actually inflict bodily pain on me for wanting a little sympathy sex?” Bishop remarked then shook his head.
“Tread lightly, Bishop. I've had a bad day too.”
Bishop sighed and removed his jacket and shoulder holster. “On that note, I guess I'll settle for a couple hours sleep before our guard duty shift.” He carelessly tossed his jacket and shoulder holster onto the foot end of the bed.
Jetta approached the first bed and collapsed on it with exhaustion. Bishop removed his shirt then opened his pants. Jetta suddenly glared at him.
“What are you doing?”
Bishop gave her a serious look. “This is how I sleep,” he informed her and allowed his pants to fall to the floor. “You don't scare me.”
Jetta couldn't help but catch an eyeful of his sexy, black boxer briefs, which resembled a sexier, cotton version of bicycle shorts. Bishop had an athletic build with broad shoulders and just enough chest hair to hold her interest. There was no denying it; he was stunning! She looked away in what she hoped came off as casual disinterest, but the image was already burned into her mind. In all her encounters with her father's men feeling liberated to strut around the house in their boxer shorts during visits, she didn't remember any of them looking quite like that. Although most were muscular in build, their floppy, no-frills boxer shorts held no appeal. Bishop slipped under the covers, propped himself on his elbow, and eyed her with a sly smile. She hoped he hadn't noticed her quick, once over of him in his underwear. She'd never be able to live that one down, not after the other day in the helicopter.
“Is that how you intend to sleep?” he asked with a little too much enthusiasm.
“Unlike you, I don't want to be caught with my pants down,” she remarked.
“And unlike you, I'm confident we're safe here.” Bishop patted the bed alongside him with a devious grin on his face. “But if it makes you feel better, you can snuggle against me. I'll keep you safe.”
“You're just begging to be hit.”
“Just trying to be nice,” he replied.
“I seriously doubt that.”
He maintained his smile. “If you need me, you know where to find me,” he teased.
Bishop then turned onto his side facing away from her. Jetta stared at him a moment longer and considered his invite. It actually sounded pretty good. Cuddling with a man while she slept was something she wanted to do, but it always seemed to come with certain strings attached. One of her father's buddies pulled that stunt on her a few years back. Apparently, ‘cuddle’ actually meant ‘sex’, even if he swore it didn't. Their ‘cuddling’ didn't end well for him. The wrath of the admiral was nothing compared to the wrath of Jetta. Perhaps that was military men, but Bishop did seem a lot like them in many aspects. She dismissed her overtly sexual thoughts and opted to get some sleep instead. The image of Bishop in his black, boxer briefs kept flashing through her mind, almost taunting her to join him. She groaned softly, turned on her side, and buried her head in the pillow.
Chapter Twenty-five
The tavern appeared peaceful as everyone attempted to sleep in chairs and on the floor. One of the men sat before the window on guard duty with an assault rifle across his lap. He nodded off in the chair several times while attempting to stay awake. The sounds of gunshots coming from the roof had ceased. All was quiet. Hunter slept in his chair twenty feet from the door. He twitched in his sleep to the sounds of explosions, screaming, and gunfire. He was once again fighting the war and sacrificing himself for his team. The nightmare was never-ending. It was a battle he lost every night; one he never meant to survive. A strange slurping sound was heard as a breeze blew past him. He jerked awake from his nightmare, clutched his rifle, and stared into the dead eyes of a gruesome zombie only inches from his face. In a split second, he had the zombie by the throat and his pistol drawn. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger and shot the zombie in the head.
The sound of his gun firing in close quarters woke everyone. Their frightened gasps turned to horrified screams. Two zombies were already devouring two others who had been asleep, which was the slurping sound he'd heard in his sleep. Hunter jumped to his feet with his assault rifle grasped firmly in his hands and looked at the open door. He should have heard it being opened, but he hadn't. The sound of rock music suddenly blared from the sports car just outside. More zombies filtered into the tavern. People screamed as others grabbed their weapons. Hunter rammed the butt of his assault rifle into the face of a zombie eating one of the men near the door. As the zombie fell to the floor, he shot it in the head. It seemed as if his gunshot started a chain reaction among the others. Several men began firing and bullets appeared to fly randomly around the crowded room. Chaos erupted as people screamed and ran in every direction. Hunter watched in horror as a few fleeing people were struck by stray bullets. A zombie pounced on one of the women, who fell to the floor after being shot, and tore into her face as she attempted to fight it off.
“Cease fire! Cease fire!” Hunter yelled, but no one heard him over the screaming and gunfire.
A zombie jumped on one of the men near Ming and her daughter. As the zombie knocked the man across the pool table, Fei Yen watched it tear into the man's forearm. Fei Yen screamed and ran across the room.
“Fei Yen!” Ming cried out and ran after her.
A stray bullet whizzed past Fei Yen's head. She ducked while continuing to scream. Another stray bullet struck Ming and forcibly knocked her against the wall. A zombie grabbed Fei Yen's hair as she ran past. A small tuft of hair, ripped from her scalp, was all the zombie got from the fast moving little girl. Fei Yen ran for the open door and darted out of the tavern. Ming straightened while clut
ching her bleeding arm and saw Fei Yen running from the tavern. Ming appeared horrified, screamed for her, and ran out the door after her daughter.
As Ming emerged from the tavern, the sports car burned out in the parking lot and nearly struck her. She dove out of the path of the car and rolled across the gravel parking lot. She painfully moved to her knees while clutching her arm and saw Daniels behind the wheel. The car spun out from the excessive pressure on the gas pedal, jetted forward, and struck a truck. The car burned out in the gravel but appeared stuck against the truck. Ming saw her daughter running across the parking lot and ran after her. Fei Yen dodged several zombies before stopping by a pick-up truck to cry. Ming ran for her and was almost to her when zombie Brian grabbed Fei Yen and pulled her off her feet. Ming attempted to pull her daughter from the zombie's grip. Fei Yen and Ming both screamed as zombie Brian's mouth neared the back of Fei Yen's neck.
The muzzle of an assault rifle was rammed into Brian's mouth, forcing his head back and away from the little girl. Hunter fired a shot through Brian's mouth, exploding the back of his head. Ming pulled Fei Yen from the falling zombie's hands and fell with her to the ground. Two more zombies were suddenly hovering over them, preparing to pounce. Ming screamed and clutched her daughter, shielding her where they half lie on the ground. Hunter spun into a high, roundhouse kick above Ming's head and struck the first zombie in the face. He spun toward the second one almost on top of Ming, tossed his rifle aside, and broke the zombie's neck with one motion. As the first zombie attempted to move back to its feet, Hunter threw himself to the ground, grabbed his discarded rifle, and aimed it at the first zombie. Ming saw the rifle close to them and again shielded Fei Yen. Hunter shot the zombie twice in the head from his position on the ground.
Once the firing ceased, Ming uncertainly looked at Hunter on the ground near her. Their eyes met only briefly. Her gratitude was almost overshadowed by her shock of the impressiveness of his combat skills. Hunter stood and pulled Ming to her feet.
“Get her inside.”
Ming grabbed Fei Yen and rushed her back into the tavern. The man on the roof finally woke and began shooting random zombies. Hunter looked up, shook his head with disgust, and muttered a curse. The sports cars engine was still heard revving. Hunter casually walked toward the car attempting to pull free from the pick-up truck. Daniels looked out the window and appeared to panic as Hunter approached. The sports car broke free and flew backwards into another parked car. It then burned out and jetted past Hunter. Hunter removed a grenade from his pocket, pulled the pin, and casually tossed it through the sunroof as the car raced past him. Hunter walked back to the tavern while lighting his cigar. He paused, puffed on his cigar, and blew out smoke. The sports car spun onto the paved road and exploded. Hunter smirked and continued into the tavern.
†
The tavern door was crudely sealed. Several people lie dead and others were injured either from friendly fire or from zombie attacks. Eight zombies lie mangled on the floor. Hunter sat in a chair across from Ming, who clung to her daughter, and patched Ming's injured arm. Despite their situation, Hunter was unusually peaceful. Palmer, on the other hand, was a raging bull. Sheriff Palmer paced the tavern while shaking his head and gesturing wildly at several men standing before him. Each man kept his head down and appeared ashamed.
“Idiots!” Palmer cried out. “Who the hell fires a weapon in a crowded room with innocent people running every damned direction? If I have my way, I'll see to it that none of you yahoos ever gets a damned hunting license again!” He threw his hands around while gesturing wildly. “Let's get these rotten bastards out of here before they stink up the place!”
Palmer was playing bad cop enough for everyone, so Desmond went the direction of good cop and attempted to keep the remaining patrons calm.
“If you've been hurt, see the field medic,” Desmond announced between Sheriff Palmer's continual outbursts.
Hunter looked over his shoulder and eyed Desmond with a curious look. “We have a field medic?” He wondered why no one told him.
“Yeah--you.”
Hunter smirked and shook his head. Palmer continued his pacing and ranting with no letup in sight. Perhaps if there had been coffee for the good sheriff, he wouldn't have lectured as long as he had. Hunter looked at Ming across from him and offered a tiny, pleasant smile.
“You're very lucky the bullet only grazed your arm,” he informed her. “You should probably have stitches, but scars build character.”
Something clicked in Hunter's mind. He uncertainly looked around the room. He was sure he was forgetting something. He looked back into Ming's big, brown eyes as she stared helplessly at him. Those eyes of hers melted him.
“Thank you for saving my daughter,” Ming said timidly. “I don't know how I'll ever repay you.”
A thousand thoughts flooded Hunter's mind. He entertained one or two of the less appropriate ones, but her innocent beauty chased them away.
“Invite me for dinner, and we'll call it even,” he said with a warm smile.
“I'd be honored,” she replied warmly then blushed with embarrassment.
He was captivated by everything about this woman. She was too beautiful for words. He was sure they had met before, but he was having a hard time remembering where. Hunter took her hand, suavely kissed it, and excused himself. He needed to get away from her before he forgot they were in a combat situation. Beautiful women were distracting to soldiers, and he'd seen too many men die because they allowed themselves to be distracted. Ming could easily distract him. He walked toward Desmond and several others who were injured. Desmond appeared tense and pulled Hunter away from the injured people and closer to Palmer, who reloaded his gun. His rant had apparently exhausted him.
“Four of the injured were bitten,” Desmond said softly. “We have maybe an hour before they turn.”
Palmer groaned and rolled his eyes. “Well, this just keeps getting better and better,” the sheriff snapped while slinging the gun's cylinder closed. He immediately fidgeted, stared at Desmond, and attempted to keep his voice down. “What do we do now?”
“There's the radical solution,” Hunter replied.
Desmond and Palmer eyed Hunter with shared looks of horror. Hunter stared back at them and wondered why they were looking at him like that.
“No way,” Palmer growled lowly. “We don't shoot our own citizens.” He paused and appeared to reflect the last twenty-four hours. “At least not the live ones.”
“Then we need to isolate them, wait for them to turn, and then humanely put them down,” Hunter informed him.
“Show some respect,” Palmer snapped. “These people are my neighbors.”
“In less than an hour, your neighbors are going to bite you in the ass,” Hunter remarked casually.
“He's right,” Desmond replied with a defeated sigh. “We need to isolate them and deal with them when they turn.”
Palmer subconsciously rubbed the day's growth of stubble on his face with the barrel of his revolver. “I'm really starting to hate my job.”
Shelly approached them while clutching her bleeding arm. “Sheriff,” she said gently.
Palmer turned, looked at Shelly's bleeding bite wound, and groaned softly while looking away. He fought his sorrow, replaced his gun to its holster, and then looked back at her while putting on a false look of hope.
“How's the arm, Shelly?” he asked gently.
“It feels like it's on fire,” she replied. “I'm going to become like Wes--like those outside, aren't I?”
“It's not an exact science,” Palmer fumbled over his words and attempted not to cringe from his lie.
“You're a terrible liar, Sheriff,” she remarked gently then drew a deep, shaken breath. “If it's all the same, I'd rather you didn't wait until I turned.”
Palmer appeared horrified at the suggestion then turned stern with her and shook his head. “No, that's not happening. We're going to wait.”
“Sheriff--” she protest
ed.
“We don't know for sure,” he insisted.
“Sheriff, please,” she begged. Shelly took a deep breath and fought her emotions. “Then give me a gun.”
“No, I'm not doing that either,” Palmer informed her. “We'll isolate you and the others and wait. Someone may come along and rescue us. There could be a cure.”
“You know better,” she remarked. “You heard what Daniels said. There is no cure.”
Palmer shook his head defiantly. “No, I'm sorry,” he announced firmly. “We're waiting.”
Shelly frowned then turned to Desmond. He stared at her with the same horrified expression then lowered his head and looked away. She appeared frustrated then glanced at Hunter, who watched her closely. His expression was hard to read.
“Will you give me a gun?” she asked.
There was no hesitation. Hunter removed the semiautomatic from his shoulder holster, checked the click, and cocked it. Desmond and Palmer jumped with surprise and attempted to protest as he handed Shelly the gun. She took the gun, offered him a tiny, grateful smile, and headed for the kitchen. The three others who were bitten solemnly followed her. Desmond stared at Hunter with his mouth hanging open while Palmer began another rant.
“I can't believe you did that!” Palmer shouted. “You may as well have pulled the trigger yourself! What the hell is wrong with you?” He suddenly shook his head and threw his arms around. “Scratch that, I know what's wrong with you!”
“She's dead either way, Sargent,” Hunter informed him firmly. He outranked this soldier. He didn't know why he felt the need to justify his actions to his subordinate. “She should be allowed to die with a little bit of dignity. It is, after all, her decision, and I commend her for living and dying on her own terms.”
Palmer glared at Hunter and appeared unable to come up with a response. There was a moment of eerie silence throughout the entire tavern. The semiautomatic was heard firing from the kitchen. Everyone flinched. Three more shots followed. Everyone stared at the kitchen with the horror evident on their faces. Palmer and Desmond sadly looked down. The silence that followed was deafening. Hunter stared at the guilt-ridden looks on Palmer and Desmond's faces.
Insanely Deadly Page 18
