by Downs Jana
“It’s not a washcloth, but it’ll do for a cum rag,” Matthew said. He winked at him. “I’ll wear my spare.” He ran a finger down Marcel’s cheek. “Thanks for including me. That was perfect.”
Marcel swallowed. “You’re welcome.” He glanced over at Andrew and sat up. “Looks like he enjoyed himself, if that expression is any indication.”
Matthew chuckled, cleaning off Marcel’s gel and then his own. “No joke. We’ve killed him.”
“Happily dead,” Andrew rasped, not bothering to open his eyes. Matthew handed him the rag. “Thanks.”
A branch snapped from somewhere behind them, and fear doused Marcel’s insides. Fuck. He rolled, grabbing his discarded gun as he went. There was no time to put on his clothes, so he just leveled his weapon in the direction of the sound. He barely breathed as he waited for another sound to alert him to whatever came at them. Matthew stepped beside him, doing the same, and Andrew knelt on his other side, pistol drawn as well.
A voice sounded, making him jump. “Don’t shoot!” From behind a tree stepped an exhausted-looking guy who was covered in dirt and filthy clothes. It was impossible to tell exactly what color the guy’s hair was originally, but it looked like a light brown from here. He held up his hands in a universal sign of surrender, his eyes trained on the ground. “I’m sorry. I tried to wait as long as I could. They’re headed this way. Markus knows I took the AV north. If you don’t move soon, they’ll be on top of you with no time to run.”
Matthew snorted. “And who the fuck are you, and how the hell do we know you’re human?” Marcel cut a glance sideways at him in surprise only to chastise himself for the internal question. They’d heard Necros talk today. It only made sense to make sure one didn’t infiltrate the camp. As unnerving as it was, the world had suddenly gotten a hell of a lot more dangerous.
The guy shrugged. “The ones that can talk have markers. The eyes for one. All of them turn these weird shades. Brown turns gold. Blue turns sky blue. Green turns turquoise. They’re all some kind of jewel tones.”
“How can we trust what you say is true?” Marcel asked. “What proof do you have?”
The guy growled. “Unless you have a fucking chemistry set on you, I can’t prove shit. However, I didn’t sneak up on you while you guys were boning like horny apes in the middle of an infected zone and try to eat you. Those are some points in my favor.”
Andrew actually laughed a little bit, trying to cover it up with a very bad imitation of a cough. “He has a point.”
Matthew sighed. “Marcel, keep your weapon trained on him while I and Andrew dress. He comes toward us, shoot his ass.”
Marcel nodded, and the man swayed a bit before leaning against a nearby tree. Marcel’s eyes narrowed. “What’s your name?”
“Derek. Derek Potter.”
“What are you doing in the middle of the wilds, Derek?” Making conversation seemed preferable to staring down the barrel of his gun and holding his breath to see if the guy made a move.
“Is that where we are?” Derek asked, looking only mildly surprised. “What sector are we near?”
Marcel gave him an incredulous look. “Did you materialize in here or something?”
“No,” Derek sighed. “I ran in here. Been running for a long time. It’s hard to keep track of where I am. I just move, and they follow. I doubt rabbits at a fox hunt pay much attention to the scenery, either.”
Marcel’s eyes narrowed. “You’re the reason they’re here?”
“Why else?”
“What sector did you start out in?” Marcel asked.
Derek leaned against the tree at his back, rubbing his dirty pants leg where the material was ripped. “Sector seven.”
Surprise flickered through Marcel. That is almost a hundred miles from here. He must’ve escaped during the meltdown. “Why would a mob that size be following one man?”
“When the Necro King commands them, they go anywhere he pleases. He’s different from the rest of them. I have a theory as to why, but I can’t say for sure. Every infected he turns is like him to one degree or another. They’re all smarter.” Derek groaned and straightened his leg out. “Damn leg cramps.”
“I’ve got some potassium water tabs in my backpack,” Andrew said, coming to stand beside him. He smiled up at Marcel. “You can go dress now.” Marcel nodded and handed his gun over to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek before grabbing his discarded pants and pulling them up his hips. He reached for his shoes next.
“I would appreciate them and a suture kit, if you have one,” Derek said. “I jumped out of a tree earlier and sliced my thigh on a branch on the way down. Not my most graceful escape but effective nonetheless.”
Matthew knelt beside Marcel as he laced up one boot. “I don’t trust him. His story is ludicrous. No way a mob would follow one man through a territory so devoid of humans. It’s sheer chance the run was held here. The infected don’t stay places so unpopulated.” The whispered words made sense. However, there was so much about this situation that was too atypical to judge.
“You’re applying hard rules to a situation where the guidelines are all blurred. Until today, we’d never heard of a Necro talking, either. Yet we heard two of them talk. I don’t think he’s infected,” Marcel murmured. “He’s tired, too tired to be one of them.”
Matthew shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out soon whether or not he’s on the up and up.” He lifted his head and stared at their new arrival. Louder he said, “If you scratched it on a branch, it needs to be cleaned before you sew it. I’m a medic. I’ll take care of it. We’ll flush it out and then get moving.”
Derek looked relieved. “Okay. Thanks. We’ll need to cross the river. Do you have someone picking you up soon?”
“Yeah,” Marcel answered without thinking. “I guess it’s lucky that we came along. It must’ve been a long time coming for a rescue.”
He visibly paled. “No. No. I can’t. He’ll find me. I can’t be the reason another sector falls.”
Marcel’s eyes widened. “You’re the reason sector seven fell?”
He nodded, looking sick. “I went into the city, thinking I’d be safe from them. But Markus’s mob clashed with a smaller mob outside the city, and it spilled over into the sector. By the time he was able to pull his Necros back, it was too late. The infection spread, and the whole place went to hell. By the time the military showed up, it was just in time for cleanup. I can’t go into the cities. Bad things happen when I do. He can control them for the most part, but they follow him.”
Matthew opened his bag and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant wash and the suture kit. “Why does it follow you?” he asked, straightening so he could walk over to where Derek leaned against his tree. “If he moves, shoot him, Andrew.” He ripped the man’s pants open further, and Derek hissed as he applied the disinfectant to the gash he exposed there.
“I’ve got it,” Marcel said, tugging his shirt the rest of the way on. “Pack the bags, Andy.” There was no way he would make Andrew take a shot if it was necessary. Derek was way too human, and Andrew was just a run kid. He didn’t need that on his conscience.
Derek closed his eyes tightly, speaking through gritted teeth. It looked like it hurt like a son of a bitch. “I have no idea why Markus follows me. He just has been for almost a year now. I was relocating to sector forty-one from sector forty-three for a job. All the new hires were put on buses and transported via the old highway system. As you know, the wilds run all the way through forty-two. Our buses were swamped by Markus’s mob, and he was the one who dragged me off of the bus. Long story short, he didn’t kill me and I took off. He followed. The end. Fuck that hurts.”
“Almost done,” Matthew murmured.
“The UMF will want to hear about this,” Marcel said, knowing there was something more going on than what any of them may have known. “You can tell them when we get our pickup. They’ll protect you.”
“I…” Derek paused, seemingly waffling. “Okay. At least t
hat way I’ll get a rest for a while.” Marcel pitied him in that moment. Being on the run from the infected had obviously taken its toll. The guy seriously didn’t believe that an entire army could protect him from the smart-as-hell Necro and his mob. The hopelessness the guy must’ve been feeling was intense.
As if on cue, Matthew’s com vibrated to alert of an incoming communication. Matthew clipped the thread, and it roped back and forth, filling in the area between the stitches with a weblike material that would repel water and keep the wound together in the meantime. Over the next week, they would dissolve and accelerate the skin’s healing process.
“So what are you guys’ names?” Derek asked as Matthew walked off a few paces and answered the communication. His voice was soft in the background, clearly not wanting Derek to hear the location of their pickup.
“I’m Andrew Ainsley,” Andrew said, hoisting his backpack up on his shoulder and extending his hand in a shake.
Derek took it and smiled. “Nice to meet you. It’s weird. I haven’t talked to a human in a really long time. It’s so weird.” He frowned suddenly, looking perplexed. “Are you the runner Andrew Ainsley?”
Andrew nodded. “Yeah.”
Derek’s eyes widened. “Oh, wow! That’s cool. I used to follow your runs before all this. It’s really great to meet you.”
Marcel’s chest swelled with pride. He’d always been proud of Andrew’s accomplishments. The man didn’t take near enough credit for himself, and he had no ego to speak of despite being one of the most popular and highest paid athletes in New America. He’d told him once that running wasn’t his job, it was what he was. He was a runner. It only made sense that he did it for a living. He really didn’t think his talent was all that great. It just was. The attitude had baffled Marcel for years.
He glanced over a Matthew. He supposed Matthew was the same way. He was a field agent because that was what he was. He didn’t see his accomplishments as anything special, either. It was mindboggling. Out of the three of them, Marcel was the only one who didn’t feel like he was born to any certain thing. Well, he amended. Maybe I feel born to take care of Andrew and Matthew to a certain degree. It startled him that his feeling of responsibility now extended to Matthew as well. Just as with Andrew, the connection had formed quickly. Andrew had been right. Their relationship already felt more intense than it should’ve, given the length of time and the situation at hand.
Derek’s attention turned to Marcel. “And are you one of his handlers?”
Marcel shrugged. “I’m on his run team, yes. Marcel Carter.” They shook.
“Nice to meet you,” Derek said. He pushed off the tree and shifted from foot to foot. “We need to get moving. They’re really close now.”
“How do you know?” Andrew asked. “I don’t hear anything.”
Derek shrugged. “The forest. All the insects have gotten quiet. They don’t want to attract their attention any more than we do.”
“We’ll head east,” Matthew said, rejoining them. “I’ve got the coordinates for our air pickup.”
Relief filled him. Thank God. He wanted nothing more than to get home, and he didn’t mean his apartment. He wanted to be safe and relaxed enough to enjoy the two men that fate had seen fit to dump in his lap. He grabbed his pack off the ground and turned to follow wherever Matthew led them.
“Do you need pain meds for the leg?” Andrew asked as Derek walked after Matthew, a slight limp in his step. Andrew always did have a big heart.
“I can’t take any. My body doesn’t possess the enzymes to break down most pain relievers. I O.D. every time and end up acting like a drunk lunatic if I’m lucky, or worse, they make me catatonic. Either option isn’t very good.” Derek cracked his knuckles, the gesture a nervous one. “No worries. I won’t slow you down. I’ll be just fine.”
What a weird guy.
“Let’s move, people. We’ve got a dozen or more heat signatures coming from the south, and I don’t reckon they’re friendly,” Matthew barked, increasing his pace. Marcel clutched his weapon in hand, keeping his eyes trained on the surrounding forest. He’d used surprisingly few bullets this trip. He hoped it stayed that way.
Chapter Seven
Matthew trusted his gut, and his gut said something about this place was fucked up beyond all reason. His gut told him that they should’ve left Derek where he’d found them and gotten the hell out of Dodge. Unfortunately, his gut and his sense of duty conflicted. He couldn’t leave a civilian behind. It went against all the training he’d ever had. Besides that, it went against his own moral code. Damn nobility to hell. It didn’t pay to be the good guy in a zombie crisis.
The pickup spot wasn’t far off, and Daniel had said that it would be there in the next fifteen minutes. He just hoped that the air transport made it there before the infected did.
They broke the clearing where the air transport would pick them up, and Matthew lowered his com after a quick glance revealed there were a few heat signatures past the clearing but none of them looked like they were actively heading in their direction. The ones to their flanks would reach them first at the speed they were moving, but hopefully they’d be gone before they caught up with them.
“Keep your weapons at the ready,” he commanded. Assuming the position of lead agent came easy to him. It always had. “Derek, do you need a gun?”
“Um, sure.”
“What kind of answer is that? Do you not want a weapon?” Matthew asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Derek looked panicked for a second. “No. No. Definitely want a
weapon. Weapons are useful.”
“Uh-huh.” Christ. Now I don’t even want to give him a weapon.
Still, against his better judgment, he took the .357 sig out of his belt holster and handed it over. Even if the guy had shitty aim, if he got close enough, it would definitely blow a hole in something. He just hoped he wouldn’t drop the damn thing on the recoil. If he was so jumpy around guns, how the hell had he made it through basic gun training? Classes and mandatory gun range time was required in all the sectors until the age of eighteen, as far as he knew. Something
about this guy just didn’t add up.
A shrill whistle filled the air, making the fine hairs on his arms
stand on end. “What the hell?” He glanced up in time to see infected
dropping by the dozens out of trees. “Fuck! Since when do infected
climb fucking trees?” He took aim, fired. One dropped. Did it again.
And again. But it was pretty useless. There were too many of them.
His heart was heavy as he kept firing rounds into the circle of infected
that were just pressing closer. They were completely surrounded. They all backed into a tight circle so none of their backs were
exposed as they fired into the crowd. His stomach twisted at the sight,
his com screaming a high alert beacon as they pressed forward. He
spared a glance at his two lovers. At least I felt what it was like to be
loved once. It was a sad thought. The potential and possibility of a
future that included all three of them faded from his mind as he
prepared to die.
Andrew’s breath seemed harsh to his ears. He was about to panic.
Matthew could feel it. “Easy, love,” he said over the gunfire. “Don’t
worry.”
“So many. So many of them.” His voice was almost indiscernible
as he spoke. Ah, that’s right. He’s scared of crowds. His gut twisted.
He didn’t want this for him, didn’t want him to die like this. He sent
up a quick prayer to whoever was listening that his dad would be all
right once he was gone.
They weren’t very far now, only ten feet maybe. He sucked in a
breath. “I wouldn’t want to die beside anyone else,” Marcel shouted,
firing three rounds in quick succession before dropping his gun and
pulling another. “I know we didn’t have long together, but I love you both.” Despite the situation, Matthew found himself blinking back
tears. He’d waited a really long time to hear someone mean that. Another whistle sounded, and every infected near them froze. He
didn’t care what the reason was. He emptied his cartridge at them and
then pulled another clip out. It seemed like he repeated the motion a
thousand times by the time all his weapons were empty. No matter
how many he shot, he never could clear a space so they could run
through. The last bullet sounded from Marcel’s gun, and the clearing
was silent.
Matthew had never been more terrified of silence in his life. “Are you all quite finished?” a voice asked. The infected parted
like the sea, and the being from earlier walked forward into the circle,
stepping over dead bodies of the infected like they were nothing. He
was just as handsome as he’d been on the vid earlier. However, this
close it was easy to see the predator in him. Unearthly golden eyes
stared unblinkingly at them. Matthew didn’t understand what the hell
was going on. He tried to step in front of Marcel and Andrew, but
they weren’t having it. They stubbornly remained by his sides. Derek stepped out in front. “Yeah. We’re done. Let them go,
Markus.”
“Why should I?” the Necro King asked. “I’ve won. As they say,
check mate, pet.”
Derek swallowed hard, and Matthew wrapped an arm around
Andrew’s shoulders, and the man gulped in air like a fish out of
water. Marcel even reached around Matthew and gave Andrew’s arm
a squeeze.
