Man Eaters (Book 3): Mob Rule

by Linda Kay Silva

  “And you think raping women will do that? You’re as fucking crazy as he is.”

  The woman smiled, and Roper was reminded of the movie The Stepford Wives.

  “Perhaps I am. He is, after all, my brother. Good luck to you, hon.”

  Roper stared at the door as it shut behind the woman. The old bag didn’t realize how much she’d told Roper.

  Whoever was coming for Roper was coming tonight.

  And she’d be ready.

  ****

  Butcher convinced Hunter and Wendell to come into the prison and get something to eat and drink.

  After Hunter and Wendell were examined by Nurse Meg for any scratches or bites, they sat down and inhaled their food in silence while Butcher paced outside.

  “Let them eat, Butcher. Then you can pepper them with as many questions as you like.”

  “How can you be so flip? So cavalier? Our people have been abducted!”

  “I am neither. I just know how this works, and getting all jacked up isn’t the best use of our energy right now.”

  “I am not jacked up.”

  Before Luke could disagree, Wendell and Hunter joined them. Butcher welcomed them into her embrace. Moments later, they gathered in a conference room with Luke, Henry, and two military captains who stood in front of a white board.

  “Alright, everyone listen up. Hunter, you have the floor. No questions until the he’s done. Leave out no detail no matter how minor it may seem.” Luke handed Hunter a marker for the board. “Maps, fences, outposts, anything you can give us.”

  Hunter cleared his throat and told them what had happened. He omitted the part about Zoe killing Eddie. When he finished, the room was deathly quiet.

  “Let me make sure we’re clear about what we are up against,” Luke said. “Roper, Dallas, and everyone in the Fuchs were taken, presumably as hostages, into an encampment in Texas. Zoe stayed behind to see if she could get the lay of the land while you hustled back here. Hunter, what about your father? Any chance he is still alive?”

  Hunter shrugged. “Zoe reminded me that it’s gonna take a lot more than a bunch of dead folk to take that old bastard out, but I don’t hold out any hope that he’s alive. They don’t clean the area around the camp out like we do here, so there are a lot of eaters. A lot. I’d like to think if my dad was taken down, thereda’ been a trail of zombie bits all the way to his corpse. I’d like to hope he either got caught by this buncha crazies or is regrouping, but my experience tells me not to wish too hard.”

  Butcher nodded and motioned to the white board with her chin. “You think three Hummers full of our soldiers can take them out?”

  Hunter scratched the back of his head. Wendell answered the question.

  “Our people have been taken by survivalists who, for all we know, have resorted to cannibalism. We told you about their weapons and their tank. It would be foolish to think they don’t have lots more of those as well as other high powered weapons. My suggestion is we prepare the plane and—”

  “That’s what I want to hear,” Butcher said, jumping to her feet.

  Luke touched her hand. She looked at his hand and then at him. “I don’t really want to hear a more rational approach, Luke. Wendell’s right. They need us now.”

  The room grew quiet again.

  “Dallas left me in charge of the military, babe, and I mean no disrespect when I ask you to sit down and let me do my job.”

  The tension was palpable, but when Butcher sat down, her eyes were on fire.

  Luke rose and approached the white board. “I understand Butcher’s desire to go running into the fire, but we have to keep a level head here. Clearly, we aren’t dealing with your run of the mill survivors or outlaws.”

  “Not if they have a tank,” Henry said.

  “Precisely why going at their head first is a mistake. I think we have to assume they have other, more powerful, military weapons, such as rocket launchers, grenades, and the like.” Luke looked around the room at each person there but Butcher.

  “We need to assume they’re hostile and very dangerous. We need a solid strategy.”

  Butcher pushed away from the table and started to leave the room. To her surprise, the hand that touched her shoulder was not Luke’s.

  “You need to get a grip, Butcher,” Hunter said. “Getting emotional isn’t going to help rescue them. Those yahoos have some serious weaponry.”

  “Every second we jaw-jack is one step closer to, to—”

  “Exactly. We don’t know what we’re looking at here. Look, my dad may still be out there somewhere. You think I want to sit around here playing war games? No, I don’t. But Dallas put Luke in charge of the military for a reason. Let the man do his job.”

  Butcher’s eyes narrowed. “I’m letting him do his job, Hunter, but I have to do mine.” She turned to leave.

  “What does that mean?”

  Whipping around, Butcher spat out balls of fire. “By the time you guys get done dissecting the frog, I’ll have finished open heart surgery.”

  ****

  When the door to her cell opened, Roper wasn’t surprised to see Clint. He had two silk nighties folded over one arm and a pair of handcuffs in his hand.

  “Put one of these on,” he said and laid the nighties on the vanity.

  “Fuck you.”

  He shook his head and dangled the handcuffs. “This can go one of two ways—the easy way or the hard way. By the looks of my man waiting out there, the hard way won’t be remotely pleasant.”

  Roper leaned against the bed frame and crossed her arms. “Oh really? Is that supposed to make me quiver in my booties, Clit?”

  He grabbed the nightgowns and flung them in her face. “Don’t pull a bear’s tail, you little bitch.”

  “Bear?” Roper looked around the room. “I don’t see a bear. A pussy, yeah, but no bear. Is that why your mama named you Clit?”

  Clint clenched his teeth and pressed her against the wall. The veins in his neck protruded and his pupils were pinpricks. “You’re damn lucky Tiny gets a whack at you tonight and not me.”

  “Is Tiny what you call your dick?”

  With speed that belied his size, he backhanded her so hard that she flew over the bed and onto the floor. She wiped the blood off her lip and grinned. “I’ve been hit harder by little girls in wheelchairs. Is that the best you’ve got, Tiny Clit?”

  He brought his booted foot up to her rib cage, and kicked all the air out of her, but she managed to grab it, twist it and use his off-balance to push him back onto the bed.

  As Clint fell to the bed, Roper leapt on him. Her leg chain in her hand, she choked him with it, putting all of her weight on the chain as it dug into his neck. Clint punched her in the temple, but Roper hung on. She’d ridden far tougher bulls than this guy when she was in the rodeo circuit.

  “Is that the best you got? Come on, you dickless mother fucker. Fight like a man. If you can.”

  Clint roared like a supernatural being and flung her off of him. She crashed into the headboard, chain rattling.

  “You’re fucking crazy!” He yelled as he started for the door.

  Roper leapt on his back and clapped both ears with her open palms. He roared again, spun around and slammed her against the wall. Grabbing the back of his head, she head butted his face, breaking his nose and sending blood running into his mouth

  “Fucking cunt!” He slammed her once more into the wall. This time her head hit the wall so hard she had to let go.

  “Pencil dick,” she said as he turned to her, fist raised. “Teeny tiny pencil dick bastard.”

  His fist connected with her cheek bone and sent her crashing over the vanity stool.

  Roper got tangled up and could feel the grayness of unconsciousness threatening her. She managed to right herself enough to throw a forearm to his Adam’s apple, dropping him like a bag of rocks on his knees. As he struggled to breathe, she kicked him in the chest, sending him against the wall. Blood ran from his busted nose to his mouth
and onto his shirt.

  She stood over him, her hands on her hips and said, “Oh man, are they all gonna talk about how you got your ass kicked by a woman, Tiny Clit. You’ll be the laughing stock. You’ll never ever live that down here in Jethro Land. Nope. They’re gonna laugh and—”

  He threw himself at her like a wild man and landed punch after punch on her face until she tried to cover up like a boxer in the ring. With one punch to her gut, she lowered her arms and he beat her with his fists, breaking her nose, splitting her eyebrow, and smashing her lips until they looked like hamburger. It was all she could do to stay on her feet.

  He might have beat her to death if Tiny hadn’t entered the room.

  “Dude, what in the hell? Stop it, man, you’re gonna kill her!” Tiny grabbed one of Clint’s arms, but he yanked it back and popped Roper in the ribs. Clint might have finished her off right there had Tiny not wrapped his large arms around him and lifted him off her, throwing Clint several feet from the door.

  “Help! Someone get Sanchez! Hurry! I gotta female down here!”

  He knelt next to Roper. Her chin lay on her chest, blood poured from her busted nose, mouth and eyebrow. Blood and drool pooled on her chest as she slowly lost eyesight in her left eye as it became swollen shut.

  As the dark edges of unconsciousness crept up on her, she looked up to find Tiny’s big moon pie face looking down at her.

  “He’s…an…ashhole…”

  “Oh shit,” Tiny said, panic in his voice. “Somebody? Anyone?” He tore off his tee-shirt and stuffed it in her hand. “Hold that against your eyebrow. It’s gushing pretty—” He leaned over and vomited on her bed.

  “Ah…man…” Roper could feel unconsciousness creeping nearer. “‘Dass fut up.” Her tongue refused to cooperate and her lips felt frozen.

  “Fuck it.” Tiny said as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “This is really gonna hurt, girl, but I need to get you to Sanchez.” He grabbed the chain and pulled until the chain busted the leg off the bed. Then he gently picked Roper up and cradled her in his arms. “I’ll get you some help, girl. Hang on.”

  Her head bouncing on her chest as he strode from the room, Roper whispered, “Tiny?”

  “Yes?”

  “Stop…calling me…girl.”

  He blinked and nodded.

  As they passed Clint, who held a handkerchief to his busted nose, Roper said softly, “Got you, you cocksuckin’ son-of-a-bitch.” And then, she let the darkness overcome her.

  ****

  Zoe

  Zoe found the perfect place on top of a warehouse where she could keep an eye on the zombie those three yahoos had chained to the pole. She was surprised how many undead these stupid survivalists let live so close to them. Why weren’t they clearing them out? Why wouldn’t they make sure their area was as safe from them as could be?

  She scanned the area and saw that hundreds roamed the fence line. That was when she knew the answer and it made her sick.

  They wanted the zombies to stay around. It kept the people in the warehouse district captive, too afraid to go out on their own. Why else would they guard the perimeter but not the exterior?

  Zoe had circled the warehouse area a dozen times. There were three different zones she could get through by climbing. She knew zombies can’t climb, so it was possible no one would consider those areas weak. Of course, it was also possible they weren’t as smart as her people. Zoe had noticed the survivalists didn’t have dogs but they did have top of the line artillery. The men were well armed, wore heavy riot gear, and all had those tasers.

  It was obvious they’d knocked over a police station along the way. But that tank? That was serious business. What else did they have for big guns?

  In the couple of hours she had watched the area, she hadn’t seen one woman or one person from the Fuchs.

  That worried her.

  They were either dead or being held captive, and she prayed it was the latter.

  Zoe flattened herself against the rooftop when commotion erupted on the streets below. She watched as a large man came from a building carrying—

  “No. No, no, no,” Zoe muttered, as she watched the man carry a lifeless Roper across the street to another building. Zoe could see Roper’s battered and bloody face. “Jesus.” Zoe covered her mouth as tears filled her eyes. “Not you, Rope. I’m too late. Too fucking late.” She rolled over and laid her arm across her eyes and let the tears come.

  They’d killed her.

  Those goddamn motherfucking hillbillies had killed Roper.

  ****

  Butcher

  “I want all our best weapons, a couple of rocket launchers, a rack of grenades, and sniper rifles.” Butcher counted the items off on her fingers. “Water, flak jackets, plenty of ammo, binoculars, night vision goggles—”

  “Slow down, Butcher.”

  “We don’t have time, Colby. I need this bird in the air ASAP.”

  Colby was one of the three pilots capable of flying the plane. “You got it. How does an hour sound?”

  “That will have to do.”

  “Passengers?”

  Butcher thought for a moment. “You, me, and two others. Not sure who, though.”

  “Seriously?” Came a familiar voice from behind them. “Who would be important? Someone who knows where the hell you’re going and whose father is still MIA?”

  Colby and Butcher turned to Hunter, who stood with his crossbow in his hands and a look of determination in his eyes. “I know you, Butcher, and I knew when you left the talking heads what you were going to do. I was pretty certain you were coming here. You’re not waiting for Luke, are you?”

  “Don’t try to talk me out of it,” Butcher said. “I’m going to get my family back and we don’t have time to take the Jeeps. We need to go now.”

  Hunter nodded and lowered his backpack to the ground. “You’re not the only one whose family is out there, though. I’m going back with you.”

  Butcher touched his shoulder. “It will be really helpful having you with us.”

  “Easier to find the place, and I hear I’m pretty decent with the bow.”

  Butcher grinned. “Thank you, Hunter. It means a lot to me that you’ll go back and help me collect our people.”

  “Got room for one more?” Wendell asked, walking up behind Hunter.

  Butcher was stunned. “Wendell? You don’t have to go back. Really.”

  Wendell dropped his bag at his feet. “Are you saying that because I offer zero fighting skills and can barely protect myself?”

  “Well, not really, no. I just—”

  “I know you’d rather take a CGI and I can even see the logic in that, but there’s always a moment in every battle where brains are needed to defeat brawn. I would like to be there when that time comes. You may need what I know more than you need another machete.”

  Butcher looked at Hunter for support. He was nodding.

  “He may be bait, but I’ll take Wendell’s mind over anyone’s might any day. I say he’s in.”

  “Room for one more?” Butcher asked.

  Colby looked in the plane at the growing pile of supplies he’s been loading into the plane. “Not enough room for another person. We could dump some of the—”

  “No. That’s good. I want it all and these two are going back with me.”

  “You’re not going to leave without saying goodbye are you? Luke will spit nails if you go without a goodbye.”

  Butcher hesitated before she answered. “I can’t. He’ll try to stop me. You know he will. Meg will watch my daughter for me. I’ve got Egypt all set up and taken care of. She’s in good hands.”

  Wendell and Hunter exchanged looks.

  “What?”

  “You sure this is how you want to do this?”

  “Absolutely. I should never have been here in the first place. I belong with them. I always have. I know it’s hard to wrap your minds around, but none of this shit means a thing without them. If I could take Egypt
, I would, but I can’t. Luke’s going to have to rub his sore spot and stay here to take care of our daughter.”

  Hunter shrugged. “Do what you gotta do, I guess. I’ll never understand women. Ever.”

  Butcher grinned. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re gay.”

  ****

  “Have a seat, fellas,” JB said, motioning to the couch with his cigar. There were three shots of whiskey on the coffee table.

  Churchill sat down and dropped one arm over the back of the couch. Einstein sat on the edge of the sofa, shoulders hunched.

  “What’s the matter, boy? Ain’t we treatin’ ya right?” JB blew a bluish smoke ring.

  Einstein glanced at Churchill before he answered. “While I appreciate all you’ve done for us, I’d really like to see Cassie, sir.”

  JB took the cigar out of his mouth and leaned forward. “I get it now. That there filly’s your gal?”

  Einstein started to say no, but thought better of it. “Yes, she is.”

  “Well now, that makes sense. So, you want to be the one?”

  “The one?”

  “To impregnate her. You want her to carry your child into the future. The only problem I have with that is it goes against our rules, and men don’t cotton to newcomers gettin’ specialized treatment.”

  Einstein blinked.

  Churchill leaned forward. “We’re not sure what rules you’re talking about, JB.”

  JB jammed the cigar in the corner of his mouth and leaned back in his big recliner. “Which is why I called you here. While we got your women under control, that one named Roper was sent to the infirmary for—”

  Einstein was on his feet. “Why? What’s wrong with her? What have you done to her?”

  The guards at the door lifted their rifles toward him as Churchill grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled him back to the couch.

  “Easy, boy. She slipped and fell, so we’re having her checked out. She’ll be back at it again in no time.”

  “She always was a tough one to handle,” Churchill said, cutting his eyes over to Einstein.