Love and Decay, Volume Seven (Episodes 5-8, Season Three)

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Love and Decay, Volume Seven (Episodes 5-8, Season Three) Page 23

by Higginson, Rachel


  “One of Matthias’s?”

  Vaughan nodded. “We need to distract him.”

  “I could flash him.”

  Vaughan blinked at me. “Was that a joke?’

  I shrugged one shoulder and felt some of the air return to my lungs. “I think so.”

  “I know you’re nervous, but it’s going to be okay. We’re going to get out of this alive, Ty. I won’t let anything happen to you or my family.”

  I nodded, feeling a fresh wave of tears threaten to break free.

  Something caught my attention in my peripheral vision. I glanced over to find an arm waving in the air from across the road.

  Hendrix.

  “Vaughan,” I whispered. “Your brother.”

  He looked over and I watched his shoulder sag with relief. “Thank God.”

  Reagan popped her head up and waved at us. Miller stood in the back behind King and Harrison. I wanted to wring my little brother’s neck, but the relief that swelled through me made my hands numb.

  Andy’s hiding spot was a couple buildings down. He had demanded to stay near the vehicles just in case things went south and we had to flee again.

  Well, things had definitely gone south. But I wasn’t sure any of us were ready to give up yet.

  Vaughan and Hendrix started talking with their hands and their guns. I had no idea what they were saying or how they could tell what the other was saying. They pointed a lot at the sky, which I understood was code for the sniper on the rooftop.

  Hendrix stepped forward, seeming to test waters. Immediately gunfire assaulted his position and he had to jump back to keep from getting killed.

  He turned his head and started talking to his brothers.

  The alley between the two buildings on either side of the street was very narrow and none of these buildings was tall. They were all separate structures and only a few of them had a second story, each of them painted a different pastel. On the far end was a small white-washed church with dilapidated Spanish shingles and a bell tower.

  At one time, this tiny town could have been a postcard. Now, the end of the world had faded the paint, condemned the buildings and turned the man who ran it into an evil, manipulative tyrant.

  Still, it was better than home.

  On the other side of the street, a few yards toward the shooter, was a car that had been parked a long time ago and abandoned. The old, rusty station wagon had lost its wheels and sat directly on the ground. The windows had been bashed in at some point, possibly today, and the hood had been propped open and left that way. It was one of the only things taking up space in the streets. Diego kept the rest of his vehicles parked together, in a dusty grass lot that used to be a soccer field. The goals were still set up and in a few places I could still see the white paint etched into the dirt.

  When Diego had walked us up and down the main street and explained how Matthias would come into town and where our best options to fight him would be, I hadn’t paid much attention to the car. It was an eye sore and completely useless.

  I had been wrong.

  The car was not completely useless and it was the only thing that could save Hendrix’s life.

  I had one moment of clarity before Hendrix and Vaughan’s half-cocked plan flew into motion. I felt my mouth drop open when Vaughan held up his hand and counted down from three. Hendrix burst from the alley like a bat out of hell, his arms pumping as fast as they could go, his feet flying over the debris-littered ground.

  I held my breath the entire time he made a run for that car. He ran faster than anyone I had ever seen run before. His long legs carried him in a quick zigzag, somehow managing to keep him just ahead of the furious bullets that followed him in rapid succession.

  Vaughan stepped out of the alley too and I could have killed him myself. He hadn’t warned me. He hadn’t even turned around to tell me he loved me one more time!

  I felt righteous anger burn through me. I rushed to the edge of the alley and watched Vaughan raise his arms and start shooting. When he realized he wasn’t close enough, he sprinted forward just as Hendrix dove for the cover of the car. Vaughan kept shooting, never slowing or stopping his attack.

  I could see the gunman now, perched on top of a metal overhang. I could tell he picked his spot because he had been able to use the railing beneath it to hoist his body up, and the main roof of that building provided more metal protection, but looked unstable enough that it wouldn’t hold his weight.

  As soon as Vaughan stepped out, the gunman turned his attention on the eldest Parker. A headache inched into my tightly furrowed brow; I clasped my hands together in front of me and started whispering prayers to a God I hadn’t talked to in years.

  Hendrix started firing as soon as the shooter’s focus shifted to Vaughan. The sniper ducked down before popping back up to take a quick shot at Hendrix. Both of them missed. But while Hendrix distracted the guy, Vaughan started shooting again.

  Vaughan was now standing in the middle of the street, completely exposed from every direction. Hendrix used the car for cover, but popped up again often to keep up his attack. Vaughan continued to walk closer. When he emptied one of his guns, he threw it on the ground and grabbed the one he’d taken from the dead guys.

  The sniper needed to readjust his rifle, but with two Parkers shooting at him constantly, all he could do was lay his head down flat on the roof and hope they didn’t hit him.

  Another one of Matthias’s men stepped out from a different alley and took aim at Vaughan. I started shooting before I had even consciously made the decision to, but it wasn’t my bullet that killed him. I was too far away to get anywhere near the bastard.

  Harrison and King and exploded from the alley providing backup to the Parkers and taking out the rooftop sniper.

  “Oh, my god,” I winced, positive one of these boys was going to die.

  Hendrix stepped back into the street, no doubt trying to lure the shooter to lift his head. Vaughan took a few steps closer, trying to do the same thing.

  When the shooter finally took the chance to kill someone, it was Vaughan he aimed for.

  Vaughan dove out of the way just as bullets exploded from his barrel. I felt my heart slam into sternum and pull apart. I thought this had to be the most painful thing I’d ever gone through. Every single ounce of my body ached from too much adrenaline. I wanted to sink to the ground and never stop crying.

  Vaughan had managed to dive out of the way just at the same time Hendrix fired off a kill shot. The sniper had one last goodbye shot that barely missed Vaughan before Hendrix nailed the guy right in the temple.

  The breath from my lungs released more than oxygen; it was something infinitely more important. I had never been more afraid; I had never believed Vaughan could step so close to death.

  While I tried to reconcile the fact that Vaughan was still breathing, the war continued to wage. The sniper might have died, but he was just one of many that were here to kill us.

  Vaughan scrambled to his feet without giving the gunman a second thought. Vaughan didn’t have time for second thoughts. More men trickled out of buildings and Vaughan and Hendrix were caught in the middle of the road.

  I jumped from the alley and surprised a man that had been slinking down the side of the road. We were close enough that I didn’t stress out about my aim. I lifted my gun, pointed it at his chest and fired.

  Vaughan had taught me that. The chest was a bigger target than the head.

  He had been right.

  I managed to nail the guy right in the center of his chest. The closeness of the shot forced him to jerk backwards before collapsing on the ground. Blood had sprayed everywhere, coating me with a thing dusting of it.

  I wanted to be grossed out about it, but I still had Diego’s blood covering my arms up to my elbows, so really I had no room to complain.

  This was the world I lived in.

  I had just killed a man.

  I didn’t have time to have a nervous breakdown about it now though. I
would save that for later. And I would comfort myself by saying it was okay if I never recovered from it.

  God, that was traumatizing.

  I didn’t have a second to think it over before something grabbed me around my throat and knocked all the sense out of me.

  I was hauled up against a mammoth body; his tree-trunk sized arm attempted to squeeze the life out of me. I slapped at the arm and choked, struggling to breathe. My right arm flew in the air and I lost the slippery hold I had on the gun.

  It landed somewhere behind me, useless and abandoned.

  Shit.

  “I got her!” The deep voice boomed in my ear.

  “We got the kid and the girl!” Another voice shouted from across the road.

  I worked to focus my hazy vision on the alley across the street. Sure enough, Miller and Reagan were in similar positions to me, except that Reagan’s arm had been pulled behind her body in a stronghold. She must not have lost her gun like an idiot.

  My hands were obnoxiously sticky now that the blood was drying, so I found it more than irritating that the gun had slid right out of my grasp.

  “Stop shooting or we’ll kill them!” someone else shouted.

  Vaughan and Hendrix swung around with guns raised to find us trapped. King and Harrison hurried to join their brothers in the middle of the street. The gunfire ceased and the world stilled.

  I didn’t know how many of Diego’s men were left and if they were trying to fight for us or if they’d gone back inside to wait this one out.

  With Diego out of commission, they didn’t really have a reason to fight this battle other than for revenge. I didn’t know if Diego would make it or not and I doubted his men had more hope than I did. I didn’t think they would remain invested in our conflict with my dad if they didn’t have to.

  And I didn’t blame them.

  Maybe I should have stayed to take care of Diego. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with a stinky, sweaty gorilla holding me against his disgusting body.

  Not one of the Parkers dropped their weapons, but they didn’t move either. Their eyes darted all around the main street, searching out their biggest threat.

  They didn’t have long to wait before he appeared.

  Matthias stepped out of a building that used to be a grocery store. There was still a deep freezer that once sold ice cream positioned out front. His sadistic smirk was back on his face, and his hands were clasped arrogantly behind him.

  “Why is it that I don’t have to worry about any of my men dying until I come around you people?” Matthias asked loudly enough for all of us to hear.

  I gurgled out a nasty reply that nobody could understand because as I talked, the chokehold around my neck got tighter and tighter until I thought my eyes might pop out of their sockets. I kicked back, hoping to get his kneecap or junk, but he jumped out of reach just in time.

  “Don’t hurt her,” Matthias commanded as he walked by.

  Immediately the tight hold relaxed and I gulped in air only to cough it right back out. My throat burned from his arm and my fingernails were filled with blood and skin from where I’d tried to dig his arm off me.

  “Put the guns down boys or I’m going to shoot your girlfriends.” Matthias’s instructions were clear, but not a single Parker moved to obey.

  I knew they would do whatever it took to keep us alive. I also knew that they didn’t believe giving up their weapons was the way to do that.

  Hendrix turned slightly to make sure his weapon was trained on Matthias. Vaughan, King and Harrison kept up a constant flow of movement to make sure their guns were consistently hitting any threat.

  Even in the midst of my worst fear, I couldn’t help but admire the military machine the Parkers were. They were fierce killers in their own right, but together they were almost invincible.

  This world had stretched and fine-tuned every little thing their father had taught them. They were confident and they were precise. That combination alone made them unstoppable.

  For a split second I wondered how they used to function in a pre-Zombie world. They were so good at this apocalypse stuff. They were born for it. Bred for it. Yet at one time, they had walked around without weapons and hadn’t looked at every single person they came into contact with as a potential enemy.

  “Put the guns down!” my father repeated. I could tell that his patience had worn thin. His sanity hung on by frayed threads.

  “No.” Vaughan’s response was so quiet I almost didn’t hear him. But I did. And the weight of his rage carried with that one word and sent a chill down my spine.

  Matthias would pay for this. Vaughan would make certain of it.

  “No?” Matthias lunged forward, thrusting his fist through the air. “Have you given up the idea that you will all survive? Have you realized how stupid it was to run from me? How futile all of your efforts were? I told you I would find you. I told you there was not a place you could run to that I would not hunt you down. You took everything important from me.” He glanced back at Reagan and then deliberately over at me. “And now I’m going to take what’s important to you.”

  I thought Vaughan or Hendrix would respond to that, but a guttural shriek pierced through the air and shattered whatever poignant moment Vaughan could have used to his advantage.

  I felt the guy behind me still. His head strained to the side, listening for the sound again.

  A temporary peace treaty unwillingly descended on us. I heard one of the guys holding Miller say, “What the hell?” when a second shriek joined the first.

  In the next second there was not one or two voices screaming violently, there were many. The ground rumbled beneath my feet unsettling the top layer of dust and warning me of what was to come.

  The smell rolled in like a slow tide before any of us saw them. They appeared at the edge of town, shadows at first, but as they grew closer their mangled, rotting bodies took form.

  There was enough blood and guts scattered over this town to bring Feeders from the four corners of the earth. I could smell their hunger from here, their greed and addiction. Their mouths salivated with black puss and their crimson eyes blinked their unwavering intent.

  “Where did they come from?” my dad asked to no one in particular.

  Nobody had time to answer him. We were too busy running for our lives.

  Chapter Four

  The horde of Zombies looked more gruesome than usual, but it might have been the already dire circumstances that painted them in that light.

  The guy holding me had to let go to grab his gun and protect himself. We parted ways as the first wave of Zombies reached us.

  I had just enough time to reach down and grab my backup gun out of my ankle holster before I needed to start shooting.

  The Feeder reached out his mangled arm to grab me when my first bullet penetrated his neck. He jolted backwards from the hit, but didn’t die. I breathed through my panic, readjusted my aim and this time got him right in the eye.

  I would have been proud of how quickly I took him out, if he hadn’t been just inches from slicing his yellowed fingernails through my heart.

  I tried not to gag on the overwhelming stench of death, but it was hard with so many Feeders running these streets.

  For a split second I tried to figure out where they came from, if someone had sent them here on purpose or if they had smelled the blood and guts dripping all over this town.

  But after that whole half a second, I had to get right back to work.

  I shot another, smaller Feeder in the ear when she turned her head to snap it back and eat my face. She dropped to the ground; I moved my wrist to the left six inches and took out another Feeder with half of his face sliding off his skull.

  My aim wasn’t good, but it was getting the job done.

  I tried to see through the clusters of Zombie and Colony men, but I couldn’t make out any of my friends. I desperately searched for Vaughan, but the Feeders kept me unfairly busy.

  A quick glance at my blood-d
renched hands told me why I was such a favorite today.

  I was so frustrated with that! I needed to find Vaughan and I needed to see my brother. My fear for those two guys was enough to nearly paralyze me, but I had to keep fighting or I would die.

  And that was unacceptable.

  I dodged one of my father’s goons and jumped out from another Zombie’s clutches. The Feeder was undeterred by losing me, choosing to go for the guy chasing me.

  A few gunshots went off while I continued to simultaneously shoot and search for Vaughan and Miller. I was trying to make it across the street to get to Reagan, but there were so many Feeders in the way.

  I felt something slice through my thigh and my knee gave out from the pain. I dipped low and wobbled unsteadily. When I turned my head, I saw a Feeder. I recoiled backwards, stumbling to get out of the way.

  I tripped and fell flat on my back. I kept a better grip on my gun this time so when it leapt for me, I lifted my gun and started shooting.

  Nothing happened.

  My gun was freaking empty!

  My scream tore through my chest and drowned out everything else happening around me. My entire body tensed, waiting for the Feeder to land on me and start tearing into my flesh.

  I threw my hands over my face and I waited. And waited. And when another second went by and I wasn’t made a Feeder feast, I finally opened my eyes to see what had held him up.

  He lay to the side of me. Dead.

  “Come on,” Vaughan panted over me.

  I lifted my hand and let him pull me to my feet. I stared at him, dazed and wondering. “Where did you come from?”

  He ignored my question. “Come on,” he repeated.

  We left Matthias’s men to deal with the Zombies. I grabbed my third gun, the one I had forgotten was tucked into my tight waistband, and made sure it was ready to kill.

  Vaughan’s aim was so much better than mine. He didn’t second guess his shots or flinch when he pulled the trigger. Each of his bullets went straight to his target.

  He killed anything that got too close to us, even a few more of Matthias’s men.

 

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