“Just what in the hell are you wearing?” she rasped.
“Long story,” Jenny said.
“Well, I ain't hugging you,” she said.
Jenny smiled. “Hey Rosie.”
She pointed her cigarette at the Thumper dress. “Is this about that business with Sully?”
“He told you about that?”
“Damn fool can't keep his mouth shut to save his life. Dangerous in his line of work.” She offered a pack of smokes and Jenny took one and handed back the pack. Rosie pulled a silver lighter out of her bosom and lit it for her. Jenny inhaled, closing her eyes. “You been with those Thumpers a while then?” she said.
“Three days,” Jenny said.
“Without a smoke?”
“Smoking's a sin, apparently.”
“What isn't?”
“Hey, you know anyone who can get me another Thumper dress?” Jenny said.
“What, you're going back?”
Jenny shrugged and exhaled smoke. “I have to.”
Rosie shook her head. “Look, honey. I don't know what you're looking for that's so damned important, but you're going to get your ass killed. What you're doing is dangerous. Even for you. You're a tough bitch, but you're testing fate.”
“Fate?” Jenny said.
“Yeah, fate,” she said, grounding out her cigarette in the dirt. “I can believe in fate.”
“I'm almost done,” Jenny said. “I just have to make sure.”
She breathed hard out of her nose and eyed her. “Whatever. No skin off my nose if you get yourself killed.”
“I'll be careful. I promise.”
“Youth is wasted on the young,” she said. She pointed over her shoulder with her thumb. “There's a guy over there who keeps a few things in the back. As in, not for sale.”
“He's a cozzy?” Jenny said.
“That he is,” she said. “Came out of his tent the other day dressed like a damn ballerina. Weirdo. Keep your knife handy. I think he gets some of that shit on the Black.”
“Sully in his usual spot?”
“You know it, sister,” she said. “Watch that guy. I don't know him as well as you do, but I get the feeling nothing he says is straight, you know?”
“I know the feeling,” Jenny said. “Stay safe, Rose.” She ground out her own cigarette and turned to go.
“Will do, doll. Hey, wait a minute.” She pushed something into Jenny's hand.
“Oh, Rose, I don't...”
“Shut your mouth,” she snapped and pointed a finger at her. “Don't tell no one I gave you one for free. I'll be tits-deep in Heathens wanting a handout.”
Jenny smiled and shoved the jerky up her clean left sleeve. “Thank you.”
Rose frowned. “You're skin and bones. Eat some damn food.”
Jenny nodded and went to find Sully.
Four kids in ripped-up leathers were trying to scam him for a bashed-up generator. It was obvious that the damn thing hadn't run in years, probably decades. Sully folded his hands on his rotund belly as he looked at it. A pair of round spectacles sat on his nose. His gray hair was tied back in a ponytail. Jenny watched, eating her jerky. She hadn't had real meat in months. It was gone way too fast. She couldn't help but wolf it down. It tasted a little dusty, but meat was meat.
“This is a gas generator,” Sully said. A girl stepped forward. Her blond hair was cropped on the sides and hung down her back in the middle. “Not diesel, either. Just gasoline.”
“So?” she said defiantly. “Still works. You just need to find gas to run it.”
Sully rolled his eyes. “Ain't no gas, lady. Ain't been gas since it all went sludgy in the first year.”
“It'll come back,” she said, but she didn't meet his eyes. “Someone will figure out a way.”
“And I'm just supposed to hang onto this junk until the world reboots and someone starts bleeding oil from the earth again?”
“Please?” one of the guys behind her said. His voice was softer than hers, less defiant. “We got people in Atlanta. We just gotta get there.”
“So I'm just supposed to give you an alternator? Just because you're asking real nice?” The kid shrugged and Sully crossed his arms over his chest, staring the kids down. They all looked like shit. Like none of them had slept in a week. They were dirty and had a hungry, desperate look. “Give me your leather,” Sully said after a long silence.
“What?” said the blonde girl.
“Your leathers. Give them to me,” said Sully.
“You'll give us the part?” said the soft-spoken guy.
“For all your leather. I can't sell them, but I can use them to make...I dunno. Something. I'll figure it out.”
All four kids hurriedly took off their sweaty, torn jackets and thrust them toward Sully. He took them and tossed them on the ground behind him. He picked something up off the table and tossed it at the girl. She caught it like it was priceless and held it out to look at it like it was the holy grail.
“Get that piece of shit out of here,” said Sully, gesturing at the generator. “I'm not a junk hauler.”
“Thank you,” said the blonde. There was sincere gratitude on her face.
“Didn't do you any favors,” said Sully. “I'll make a good trade off those leathers.”
The kids went away, looking every bit like they were walking on air. Jenny saw a smile cross Sully's face as he watched them go. He glanced over and saw her watching and arranged his face into a frown. Jenny laughed.
“I saw what you did,” she said, coming over and sitting on his table.
“I didn't do a goddamn thing,” he said. He started arranging the shiny parts on the table, picking one up to polish on his shirt. “Just an even trade.”
“I don't know anything about cars,” Jenny said, “but seems to me you just traded shit for a fucking gold nugget. What are you going to do with those coats? Make a hot air balloon?”
He looked at her and narrowed his eyes. “The fuck happened to you?” he said, noticing her state of dress for the first time. “Maybe you want to buy a coat to cover up all them rotter guts.”
“I need to talk to you,” she said. “In the back.”
“Oy, Frank,” Sully shouted. “Watch my stuff, would you?”
“Yeah, whatever,” said a guy in the next booth over around the stub of a cigar in his mouth.
“Milady,” Sully said, gesturing toward his tent.
Jenny headed toward the tent. Once inside, she pulled up her skirt and took out the knife, turning quickly and surprising Sully as he untied the flaps to give them privacy.
“What the fuck, Jenny?” he said, raising his hands in surrender.
“You told me Casey was in that tunnel,” she said. “He's not.”
“Is that rotter blood?” he said weakly, looking at the blade.
“Fucking right,” she said. “Took me a long damn while to get here.” The blood and guts and saliva of a rotter was a death warrant. You died painfully and sometimes slowly from an infection or a virus or whatever it was. No one had ever really figured it out. When it hit the air and dried it was harmless. Gross, but harmless. But the what-ifs were usually what got most people. And Jenny knew that Sully was one of those people who got real edgy around anything that had to do with rotters, dried or not.
“You walked from the Underground?” Sully said, his eyes bulging even more than they usually did. “By yourself?”
“Why did you say Casey was down there, Sully?” she said, her voice shaking and high-pitched. “Where the fuck is my brother?”
“Jenny, calm the fuck down!”
“I've been in that hellhole for three fucking days. And frankly, it's a hell of a lot more pleasant to spend quality time with rotters. Three days with those freaks and I have not seen anything to suggest Casey is or ever has been there. So you're going to tell me how you fucking know he's down there.”
“Jenny, you know I can't –”
“Where is he?” she yelled.
“Okay
!” Sully shouted back. “But sit the fuck down and put that thing away. You know what'll happen if you get caught threatening me. You'll never get in here again.”
“Fine,” she said. She let her arm drop, but kept holding the knife.
“Jesus Christ, Jenny,” Sully said, wiping sweat from his forehead. “You are one scary bitch when you're mad, you know that? I almost pissed myself.” He walked around her, not taking his eyes off the blade, and sat down heavily on a cot. He had a few impeccably clean rugs thrown down to make it homier, with several chests surrounding the area of the interior of the tent. One of the chests sat next to his cot and was stacked neatly with a barely-used ashtray, an old cigar box, and a couple of nudie magazines. The cot itself was perfectly-made, the blanket without a crease or a wrinkle.
“I forgot what a clean freak you were,” said Jenny.
He shrugged. “I like a tidy home. Or tent.”
“You got tobacco in that box?” she said.
“Help yourself,” he said. “But put your fucking knife away. I'll tell you what's going on. Should have told you before. Guess I didn't think you'd believe me.”
Jenny sheathed her knife, aware that Sully looked away as she did so, avoiding looking at her legs. She always got an odd feeling around Sully, like something wasn't quite right, but then, she got that feeling around most people. Everyone was fucked up in some way these days. She flipped open the cigar box and rolled a cigarette quickly and skillfully despite her shaking hands. She picked up the box of matches and lit it, then sank down on the chest, pushing the old girly mags away. She inhaled and blew out the smoke roughly. It went down like sandpaper and came back up the same way.
“Talk,” Jenny said.
“You know he's down there, don't you?” he said. “A feeling in your gut, am I right?”
She shrugged and took another drag. “Maybe. How do you know?”
He looked at her as if trying to decide on something. Finally he sighed. “You ever hear of The Thirteen?”
“Everyone has,” she said. “It's a fairy tale. They don't exist.”
“They do,” Sully said. “I'm looking for them.”
“You looking for Superman, too?”
“Laugh all you want, J,” said Sully, “but The Thirteen exist. And I'm going to find them.” He hesitated, his eyes watching Jenny. She shifted uncomfortably. “I have it on good authority that your brother was running with them.”
“The Thirteen?” said Jenny. “Casey is some kind of super zombie?”
“I also have it on good authority,” said Sully, ignoring her, “that he was seen right outside that tunnel you've been hanging out in for the last few days. And no one's seen him since.”
“Who's this good authority?” said Jenny, suddenly serious.
“None of your damn business,” he said. “You can cut me if you want, I'm not saying.”
Jenny sighed, turning the cigarette in her hand, watching the ash fall from the cherry onto the floor. Sully stared at the fallen ash, looking twitchy. After a long silence, Jenny asked the question.
“Do you think he's dead?”
“Do you?” Sully said, raising an eyebrow. “You could feel him down there, I know you could. Or else you wouldn't be so batshit crazy mad at me. It's not like you to lose it, Jen. You know he's there.”
“What about you?” she said. “Why are you looking for these...people?”
“The Thirteen?” he said. “I got my reasons.”
Jenny punched the cigarette down into the ashtray. “And those reasons would be?”
He swallowed heavily and looked at her somberly. “You're not the only one who's looking for answers, Jenny.”
“You're looking for someone?” said Jenny.
“You could say that,” said Sully.
“Or are you running away from someone?” she said, eying him. “You seem more like a runner than a finder to me.”
“Fuck off,” he said. “You don't know me as well as you think you do.”
“I don't know you at all,” said Jenny. “But you seem to know me more than I know myself, and everywhere I turn, there you are. Seattle, Detroit, and now Chicago.”
“What are you trying to say, Jen?”
“I'm not saying anything,” said Jenny. “Just seems convenient that you're always here, telling me what to do. If you and I weren't friends, I might think it's suspicious.”
“You think I followed you to Chicago.”
“I know you did.”
Sully worked a muscle in his jaw. “There's another explanation.”
“I'd love to hear it.”
“I can't tell you.”
“Fuck, Sully!”
“It's not what you think,” he said. “It's not you, Jen. I told you who I'm looking for. It's just that you have a connection.”
“Connection,” said Jenny. “To The Thirteen?”
“Casey's with them,” he said. “I know he is.”
Jenny frowned. “You really believe that, don't you?”
“Yeah.”
“Why are you looking for them?”
“I have my reasons.”
“I'm risking my life,” said Jenny. “On your information. I think I deserve to know.”
Sully shook his head, suddenly sad. “It's not The Thirteen I'm looking for. Just someone who might be associated with them. I don't think they've found her yet, but...they will.”
“Who?” said Jenny. “You have a kid or something?”
Sully pursed his lips, looking her over. Finally he nodded curtly. “I have a daughter. Somewhere. Her name is Caroline. I think that your brother's people will find her someday. And when they do, I want to be there.”
“My brother's people?”
“The Thirteen.” He sighed. “Look, don't believe me, Jen. I don't care. The fact remains that your brother was seen outside of that subway. And you and I both know that he never left. So ignore everything I say, except for that. You want to find Casey. I know where he is. That's all.”
“How do you know these people are going to find her? Your daughter, I mean.”
“I just know,” said Sully.
“That's illuminating.”
“I'm sorry, Jen. I can't tell you everything. She's my daughter, I don't want to put her in danger.”
“So you want to find these people...”
“The Thirteen,” he said.
“The Thirteen,” Jenny repeated. “So you're using my obsession with finding Casey because you think he knows them.”
“I wouldn't say it like that,” he said.
“And somehow you know that Casey will meet her. Your daughter. So you want me to find Casey so you can keep an eye on his friends.”
“Yeah,” said Sully.
“You made me pay for that last tip about the tunnel,” she said.
“I know,” he said. “I'm some kind of bastard.”
“Yeah, you are.” She shook her head. “Look. I'll help you because I want to find Casey, and you seem to know a lot about that. And I'll help you find Caroline if you want me to. But I'm not putting Casey in danger if I find him. I don't know about all this Thirteen bullshit, but I don't like how you played me.”
He smiled a smile. “You gotta be a shark, J. You know that as well as I do.”
“I guess I do,” she said. “But don't pull that shit again. Understood?”
“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry.”
“And you owe me. That guy behind you has a Thumper dress. The cozzy. You need to get it for me.”
He sighed. “I hate talking to that guy.”
“That's not my problem.”
“Yeah, okay,” he said. “Look, I'm sorry. I'd do anything to find my family. I think you understand that.”
“Yeah,” she said. “I don't like how you did it.”
A boot scuffed behind them and a shadow fell over Sully.
“Should have known you'd show up,” Sully said. “Come to yell at me, too?”
“I'm looking for a girl,”
said a familiar voice. “Heard you might have one.” Jenny smiled as Declan Munro stepped into the tent. “Goddamn, Jen. You are the most ravishing woman covered in zombie guts I've ever seen. What is that perfume you're wearing?”
“And what took you so long?” she said. “You almost missed me.”
“Good thing I'm here now,” he said. He held out his hand and pulled Jenny to her feet. And then he kissed her hard, guts and blood and perfume and all.
THREE
“I don't like it, Jen. I don't want you to go back.”
They were alone in Sully's tent. Declan had his determined face on.
“Too bad,” she said. “Sully says Casey's down there for sure. I just need one more day. I know I can find him. Just one more day, Deck. Then I'll be done, whether I find him or not.”
Declan was pacing the floor in front of her. He always got twitchy when he didn't get his way. He scratched his beard, his dark hair standing on end. Declan took off his leather and threw it on the bed. His shirt was wet with sweat, but Jenny knew the thick coat was necessary. It was insurance. She never should have left the subway on her own. It was stupid. She had no leathers, no weapons but her knife. If she'd met those rotters further away from Expo, she'd be walking-around-dead by now. The infection took some right away. Others, the strong ones, it took up to a week. But dead was dead. If the rotters infected you and your body was still in once piece, you became one. Declan stopped pacing in front of her and narrowed his eyes, mouth open to speak.
“You know, Lucy has more faith in me than you do,” she said, interrupting.
“You know exactly why Lucy wanted you to go,” Declan said. “And it had nothing to do with faith. She doesn't really make a secret of it.”
“She doesn't like me,” Jenny said. “Whatever. I don't care about that. But she told me she was sure I could pull this off.”
“Jen, pull your head out of your ass,” he said harshly. She flinched a little. “Lucy wants you dead. She doesn't give a shit about you or what you can do.”
“What, she thinks getting me killed would give her a chance with you?” she said.
“I didn't say she was smart,” he said.
Jenny Undead (The Thirteen: Book One) Page 2
