The Undead World (Book 6): The Apocalypse Exile (War of The Undead)
Page 32
His face had clouded over and his eyes had darted to the side. Something was wrong and not just with her. Deanna really looked around for the first time since she had awoken. The renegades were in what looked like a very large warehouse. The corrugated metal walls were sixty feet high. There was plenty of room for the five-ton trucks and...and a fuel truck? When did they get a fuel truck?
“Where are we?” she wondered aloud. There hadn’t been any warehouses of this size in the Duke’s town.
“Wichita,” Grey answered.
She was still a little jumbled in the head; she knew Wichita was in Kansas but didn’t know where, exactly. And there was another thing bothering her that was more pressing than the fact that they were in Wichita. “What happened to me? And what’s wrong with Marybeth? I can tell by your face something bad has happened.”
There were bags under the captain’s red-rimmed eyes and he was as pale as she had ever seen him. And his hair! It looked as though he had given himself a haircut with a knife. He told her their story and, as he spoke, she slumped further and further until she was as hunched as the letter ‘C’.
“Kay is missing? And Jillybean? This is a disaster. And I just can’t believe Eve is gone. Eve, I can’t…” Her throat threatened to lock up and her eyes wanted to spit tears. She was only barely able to blink them back. “What about Marybeth? Is she going to die?” Deanna asked in a whisper. Marybeth was on a mattress thirty yards away. Her husband, Michael was holding her hand while her eldest daughter, Anne fanned her with a towel.
“The truth?” he asked, just as quietly. “Probably. The bullet just nicked her liver. It bled like nothing I’ve ever seen and all I can say is that I hope I patched it up right. I’m not a surgeon so I just don’t know. And it wasn’t just the liver. I had to remove about three feet of her small intestine. There will be complications, that’s a guarantee.”
“I’m sure you did the best you could,” she said.
To this, he only shrugged. “I was just going to go down for a quick nap before I headed out. Both Marybeth and Becca are in need of some serious antibiotics.”
“You’re needed here,” Deanna said. “Someone else should go.”
Grey was just about to say something, but he ran a hand through his botched hair and then stopped and patted his head as if he had just remembered that it looked like a wolverine had sharpened its claws on his scalp. Deanna pretended not to notice.
“Uh,” he stammered. “There are teams out right now, but it’s very dangerous. It’s been so hot that the stiffs are lurking indoors and they’re acting...I don’t know, strange. They’re extremely quiet which means our people don’t hear them until it’s almost too late. We’ve had a few close calls. Neil thinks the heat is making them sleepy.”
“Well, I will go with you when you go out,” Deanna said. “I’ll keep you safe.” She gave him a smile, but it felt odd on her face as though her muscles were still not hers to control.
He grinned at her. “I can’t pass up a guarantee of safety from you, but first let me check you out.”
Obediently, she stuck out her tongue, followed his finger with just her eyes, allowed him to inspect her ears, nose, throat and beneath her eyelids. He felt along her neck and spine, but for what she didn’t know. He checked her reflexes with the knife edge of his hand and then he checked her abdomen.
“A little stiff, but that’s to be expected.” The remark went right over her head. He sat back on his heels. “You seem no worse for wear, however, I don’t think you should go out on any of the scavenging missions. There’s no telling if there will be any short term side effects and it would make zero sense to endanger yourself or your team by going into the field too early.”
“And I’ve been carried around for the last two days like a bag of dirty laundry. I feel restless, like I’ve sat around too much already. So…I’m going and there isn’t much you can do about it.” She raised an eyebrow to forestall any argument he might have.
He only shrugged as the air seemed to run out of him like a deflated balloon. “Ok, just wait until I’ve had a few minutes to rest. Don’t go anywhere without me. Promise.”
She promised and he offered only a small smile before he went to his mattress and slept. His mattress was three feet from hers. He was asleep in seconds, breathing deep and even. She found herself watching him as he slept; she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of him. She studied his features: his strong jaw, shadowed with two days of growth, his nose, thin but with a slight bend to it from a long ago break, his eyebrows, thick and dark. All of this was offset by the strange haircut which gave him a boyish look. It made him look young and less gritty than she had ever known him. She liked it, though she knew he was embarrassed as hell by it.
At some point in her vigil, she fell asleep. She didn’t think that was possible since she had already slept for two days, but then she was awake again and blinking in puzzlement, her mind slow to focus. There were voices around her only they were mumbles as though she was hearing them from underwater.
Deanna sat up and the motion seemed to stop the voices; more blinks and her eyes grew more attuned. William Gates stood with his mouth in its usual propped open position. Ricky was there, half listening and half giving Sadie a lecherous eye. Sadie was pretending not to notice.
The Goth girl was in her customary black garb. Unlike Grey, who looked years younger, the Goth girl no longer looked like the teen she was. A decade of worry and fear and sadness had descended upon her. It was a wonder she hadn’t gone grey overnight at the loss of Eve. Sadie had been dependent upon the baby to help her deal with her own issues and now that crutch was gone.
Normally, she would’ve turned to Neil, however he had gone through a transformation in the two days that Deanna had slept. There was an obvious wardrobe change, yet the big difference was his eyes. They were still baby blue, but the soft, almost naïve, look she was used to was gone, replaced by something hard and steely. It was a look that left no doubt that, although Neil was a small man and delicately cast, there was a depth and strength to him. Deanna also saw that he possessed a reserve of anger she hadn’t known before, and there was a coldness to him that was frightful if seen full on. She caught only a glimpse, but it was enough.
Grey was first to notice that she was awake. He caught her eyes but said nothing. Neil was talking and there was a sharpness to his voice that was as new as his outfit.
“I’m sorry, Grey, but we have to wait until sunset,” Neil said in a voice that brooked no argument. “The truck I saw was definitely one of the Duke’s. I remember it clear as day. They either know we’re here or they’re scouting. One way or the other, we can’t afford to give away our position no matter what.” Grey bristled and Neil’s eyes grew colder still. The smaller man wouldn’t back down. “No matter what.”
The soldier wasn’t so easily cowed and he knew Neil’s soft spot. “Even if means more deaths?”
Neil was a block of ice. “Yes.” Grey set his teeth for a fight but Neil held up a hand. “We have three hours before sunset. Use that time to get your teams up to speed with what they can expect. Three hours won’t…” Neil stopped abruptly as he saw that Deanna was awake and watching him. The ice in him thawed in a blink. It was disconcerting. Was she looking at Neil or some strange politician?
“How are you feeling?” he asked, with the warmth of his old self.
“I’m good, thanks. I just feel like so much has happened that it’s just…weird. I mean look at you.”
Neil glanced down at himself. He was wearing fatigues that he had cut at the wrists so that they wouldn’t hang half a foot over his fingertips. A belt cinched the baggy camouflage trousers at his waist. A green bandanna dangled from his neck as though he were one quick move from robbing a bank. The biggest difference in his attire was in his footwear. Gone were the crocs. In their place he wore sturdy Army regulation, jungle boots.
“I guess it was time to give up the sweater vests,” he said. “They never served the
ir purpose, anyway.” There was enough of the old Neil for him to glow a shade of pink as he admitted: “The truth…I thought they made me look bigger. You know, stronger. That’s why I always wore the thick ones. But that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”
No one had an answer for this. Deanna would’ve disagreed. Projecting strength was even more important now than before the apocalypse. Now, a man needed to provide and protect, while a woman…well, Deanna wasn’t sure what a woman’s role was in this new undead world. Babies weren’t valued in the least and neither was a college degree or her knowledge of books and current events or her smooth, sophisticated banter that had made her a hit at dinner parties.
For a second Deanna found herself floundering, while Neil, this tiny man who was maximizing every talent he possessed, only smiled at her, making her seem smaller than he was.
“No, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore,” she said, wearing what she felt was a pathetic grin.
Grey saw through it, though he couldn’t guess as to the cause—even after a year she still felt lost and grasping at who she should be or what she should be doing with herself. “You ok?” he asked, concerned.
“No…I’m good. It’s just Neil in army clothes! What’s the world coming to?” She gave a little laugh. The others laughed along with her. For a moment, Sadie dropped the ten years hanging over as she punched Neil on the arm hard enough for him to wince.
“Ok, that’s enough,” Neil said, rubbing his arm. “You each have your jobs. Let’s do them and get out of this in one piece.”
They nodded, all save Deanna who was sure she didn’t have a job, just as she was sure she didn’t have a role. Neil left first, then William, and Ricky. Sadie watched them walk away and then sighed as if under a ton of bricks. “See you in a couple of hours,” she said and then left. She didn’t go far; there was a mattress lying on the ground against the wall. She sat on it with her knees at the height of her chin and dug through her pack.
Grey paused long enough to catch Deanna’s eye. There was a moment between them where their connection flared up. As usual it made him uncomfortable and he was quick to make an excuse to leave. “I’ve got to go check on Becca and Marybeth,” he said. “You should get something to eat and scrounge up a weapon if you’re coming out with us tonight.”
“Sure.”
Food was easy—if one liked corn. Two of the renegades, Travis and Veronica, had roasted about a hundred ears; there was plenty to go around. It needed butter, badly, though Deanna wasn’t going to complain, she was famished. When the corn was gone she drew two quarts of water from their dwindling supply.
She drank one quart and bathed herself with the other. After that she went to her mattress and decided to wait for Grey to return. She did not wait long. Not because he returned quickly but because, as she sat there in the lowering light, all she could think about was Eve and Jillybean and Kay...and her own baby.
“Emily,” she whispered, rubbing her stomach which felt strangely stiff and a little sore. She remembered Grey saying that’s to be expected. “That’s weird,” she whispered to herself. “I’ve never been stiff before. I wonder what...”
She looked down at herself. She had noticed that she was wearing an unfamiliar baggy dress and had assumed that someone had changed her clothes at one point when she was out cold. She looked around for her jeans and then she remembered the blood. There had been blood on her jeans! “Was that a dream?” she asked, feeling her belly, low down.
The last thing she recalled before her drug-induced coma was having dinner with the Duke and then leaving and feeling sick and woozy. Vaguely, she remembered there had been blood on her jeans. It had seemed like a lot.
“Oh no!” Gingerly, she began prodding her stomach; something was definitely different. Something very bad.
Across from her, Sadie stood and slung her pack over one shoulder. She was leaving. Deanna jumped up and ran to her but only took a few steps before Sadie spun with a Glock speeding into her hand.
“It’s just me,” Deanna said, stopping with the barrel a foot from her nose.
“Sorry,” was all Sadie said, before holstering the gun. “You need something?”
Deanna looked around, suddenly embarrassed and shy by what she was about to ask. No one had known she was pregnant—no one except the Duke, that is. “I need to ask you a question about...about the other night. When I, uh, was drugged.” Sadie’s eyes darted away telling Deanna all she needed to know.
“My baby?” she asked.
Sadie looked confused. “You don’t remember? It was the Duke. You should never have told him you were pregnant.” Deanna wanted to ask how she knew anything about the conversation, but Sadie cut her off. “Jillybean was in the room that night. She saw almost everything...only it wasn’t really Jillybean, if you know what I mean.”
Deanna didn’t have a clue what she meant. Just like those moments after she had left the Duke, her mind began to swim. Strange images flashed in front of her: the blood, the way everyone whispered and pointed, Neil rushing around, Captain Grey kissing her and whispering: It’ll be alright.
“But it won’t be alright,” Deanna said. Her hands clutched the lower part of her abdomen where Emily should have been growing. She was empty, hollow. She was no longer a mother. Her child had been killed before she had a chance to take her first breath. Deanna began to cry. She wept huge, fat tears and a wail of despair began to build within her.
Sadie cut it off. The teen grabbed the taller woman by the shoulders and shook her fiercely. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded. The angry tone and the hard fingers digging into her arms stifled the wail before it started. “Do you think crying is going to do anyone any good?”
“I...I...”
“The answer is no. Look around you, damn it. Now is not the time to be acting like you’re the only one who’s lost someone. Marybeth is about to die. Becca is probably going to lose that leg if we don’t find antibiotics. Travis had a three month old child who was killed. Neil’s parents and his wife and daughter are dead. We’ve all lost people close to us. You’re not the first and you won’t be the last, so you can either wallow in pity and bring down the group or you can grow a pair.”
Deanna was shocked at the girl’s tone but was even more so when Sadie pulled out her Glock again. She turned it to the side and said: “You know what I like about the Glock? There’s no safety. There’s no dicking around with this baby once you pull it. I suggest you get one and if you find yourself in the same room as the Duke, you put a bullet in his eye.”
“I can do that,” Deanna said, stiffly. Her face was an angry red and now the tears were purest fury. Sadie was right. Tears for the dead were a waste. The dead deserved loving memories and sweet revenge.
Chapter 28
Captain Grey
In the hour before they left, Grey drilled the twenty seven renegades. They were broken down into nine teams of three, each with their own destination and each with their own objectives.
Some were going to the homes of veterinarians in search of antibiotics, surgical supplies and pain killers, while others were going to strip-malls that had been home to electronic stores. These groups were looking for two-way radios and all the batteries they could carry. Neil’s group which included Sadie and Connie had one of the harder jobs. They were going to Town East Square, a mall that was billed as the largest shopping district in Kansas. Again radios and electronic supplies were what they were after.
“I don’t get it,” Randy said. “You want me to go to a vet’s house? Wouldn’t it be smarter to go to a normal doctor’s office or to a hospital?”
Neil shook his head. “No. All those places were inundated with patients when the virus broke out. They were mad houses and if they had anything left when things calmed down, you can bet the Azael raided them later. Few people remember that vets made house calls, especially out here in farm country.”
“I think it’s a genius idea,” Veronica said.
“Jillybean,” William spat. “Good riddance.”
Neil glared at him. “What happened to Marybeth wasn’t her fault. If you don’t have the wit to blame the Duke, then blame me. Jillybean was the way she was because of me.”
“No one’s blaming anyone,” Grey said, coming between the two men. He stared them both down and then gave the others a once-over. “Veronica, you look too...well you still look like a woman. Stow the cleavage and add more ash to your face. This isn’t a beauty contest for zombies.” She pouted but without much conviction. Grey guessed that the cleavage had been exposed quite purposefully.
He turned to Deanna, last. She was in a quiet mood and he hoped that it was only the morphine wearing off. “You ok?” he asked. Her eyes were red and there was an angry cast to them. She replied with only a nod.
When everyone had passed inspection, Grey nodded to Neil who clapped his hands to get their attention. “Ok, we all have our maps, our routes planned, and our contingency plans. Remember, if you run into any of the Duke’s men you run and hide. You should all be confident enough now to be able to slip into any zombie horde. Now, let’s mount up.”
Grey’s group, consisting of himself, Deanna and Travis, had the most dangerous job. They were going to make an attempt on McConnell Air Force base which was located in the southeast quadrant of the city. The group was low on ammo and they were too lightly armed for any major confrontation with the Duke’s men. He could only hope they were going to get as lucky as they had at Fort Campbell.
They took the first truck in line and as soon as he had two of the teams in the back, he rumbled the engine to life. When he heard the other trucks turn over, he flicked his light at the main set of doors where Joe Gates was waiting. Immediately the boy began hauling on the chain and the door slowly began to slide upward.