by Isla Jones
If we stopped, chances were rotters would hear the Jeep engine and come for us. If we kept going, we’d run out of fuel before the morning sun rose. Our only option was to find somewhere safe to park the Jeep for the night.
The dirt roads that wound through the forest seemed endless, and none of them had signs. It made it difficult to know where we were on the map propped up against my knees.
“Find anything?” asked Castle. His voice was as flat as a sheet of ice.
“A bunch of roads we could be on,” I said. “Until we see a road sign or landmark, I won’t be able to find our position on the map.”
“We don’t have time to waste. Look for the lake and the cabin.”
“There are about a dozen water marks on this map,” I said. “I don’t know which one was our lake. And I can’t find any cabins on here, either.”
I saw the shadows of the dark lick up his profile. He frowned and exhaled a long, drawn-out breath.
My eyes moved back to the map as I snatched another damp-cloth from the packet between us. “We just have to keep driving until we know where we are, or find somewhere safe to stop for the night.”
I wiped the cloth along my jawline, scraping off the rest of the blood. There was only so much wipes could do for dried blood, but I had to get as much of it off of my face as possible.
The road curved off around a bend and stretched out ahead into more trees. We kept driving, and I silently decided that I hated trees now.
“What was that back there,” I asked.
Castle spared me a curt glance. “Those were infectees.”
I made a face at him. “You know what I mean, Castle. That woman—she wasn’t behaving like rotters do.” I looked up at the side of his face. “You said you’ve seen them like that before. When?”
Castle turned left onto an asphalt road—one that held the promise of old towns and an escape from the forest. “When we—the group and I—were in Arizona, we were separated.”
I remembered. I wasn’t there, but I’d met Leo’s branch of the group not long after.
“It was a nest that broke us up,” he said. “There were only a dozen of them, but they were organised. Nothing like we’d ever seen before. They operated like those back at the cabin—a few attacked to separate us, some stalked, and a few his for their moment to attack. The first move was a distraction.”
“The child-rotters,” I said. “They moved against you first. But they didn’t come for me.”
“They were decoys,” he said. “They were only meant to break us off from each other. It would leave you unguarded from the other one.”
The image of her standing still, watching me suddenly flashed in my eyes. “The woman.”
He shook his head. “The man,” he said. “The alpha of the nest was the one watching you. The man was waiting for its moment to take you.”
“Take me?”
“They do that,” he said, “when they want to take someone back to their nest.”
I grimaced at the thought. Before, I’d just thought rotters took people to their nests to feast on them slowly. But then Castle told me the real reason, and it somehow seemed more terrifying than what I’d thought up myself.
“It’s their way of recruiting. The nests compete against each other for food—the larger the nest, the better their chances.”
“That’s what they wanted with me,” I said, frowning. “But why me?”
Castle’s jaw ticked; the shadows deepened on his face. “Because you are weak,” he said. At my scowl, he added, “It noticed your injuries, saw them in the way you moved. It knew that you’d be easier to take to its nest than …”
“Than you,” I finished for him. As I touched my gaze back to the map, I said, “When I shot her—it—turned on me. I tried to attack me.”
“Infectees are still what they are,” he said. “Infected. It thought of you as an easy recruit, but when you injured it you became prey again; a threat.”
“I didn’t know they could work like that.” The disbelief clung to my whispered words.
“Stop thinking of them as mindless rotters, and see them for what they are—an infected pack of wolves. They have their hierarchies, strategies and needs. That’s what makes them so dangerous.”
“How do you know all of this?” I asked, eyeing him with unveiled suspicion.
Castle made to reply, but his gaze then sharpened and he tilted closer to the steering wheel. I traced his gaze through the windshield and squinted.
Through the fog of night, the outline of the road forked into two. And right in the middle of the separation was a building.
Castle eased his foot on the pedal and we crept further along the road. When we neared, he turned off the engine and the tyres rolled. The engine didn’t make a sound.
The blur around the building faded, and the sign in front of the driveway cleared.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I whispered.
Castle turned to face me; we looked at each other for a moment, faces hard and stunned.
And then, wide grins lit up our faces and we glanced back at the sign.
‘TOYS FOR BOYS’
I watched as Castle pushed a unit against the door.
“It’s sexist,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. “Women have guns too.”
Castle looked over his shoulder at me, his brow arched. “Did you?”
“Well, I didn’t,” I said. “But I’ll bet Lisa and Tatiana did.”
Despite that I’d used them as examples, their faces had already begun to blur in my mind. I’d only met them the night of the attack at the farmhouse, and it hadn’t been for long, but it still frightened me that I was forgetting people so quickly.
I tried to summon Cleo’s face. It worked; the tension in my shoulders eased. As long as I never forgot Cleo, it didn’t matter who I forgot. But then, Leo’s name sprung to mind—I stomped it back down to the place of pain.
“Tatiana,” said Castle, pulling from the door, “was a personal shopper before all this.”
My lips thinned into a tight smile. “Yeah, right.”
Castle strode past me, further into the shop. He jumped over the counter—glass that looked down a spread of weapons—then looked up at me. “If she’s still alive, and we see her again, you can ask her for yourself.”
He disappeared. Castle ducked down behind the counter, and the sound of rummaging followed. When he remerged, he was holding a small set of tiny keys.
“Adam guessed her profession a while back.” He tried the keys in the small locks on the counter. “And Lisa was a bartender at a pretty rough part of her town. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’d had more than a few guns stashed away.”
“See,” I said smarmily. “Lisa had guns. Therefore, guns are toys for boys and girls.”
“Not quite as catchy,” he said.
“I’ll take all-inclusive language over catchy slogans any day,” I snapped.
“Let me guess,” I said, lifting myself onto a unit. “You were from a state like this one and—“
“A state like Oklahoma?” He unlocked the case.
“You know what I mean,” I said. “A southern state.”
The implications hung in the air. Republican, gun-slinger. He just lifted the case and pulled out the handguns and revolvers, piling them on a wooden display slab at his right.
“Well?”
“Well what?” He asked. “Your guess is vague.”
“Am I on the right track?”
He looked up at me and stared for a moment. “I’m from Texas.”
I clicked my grimy finger. “I knew it.”
He inspected the guns. “Leo is, too.”
My brows raised at the mention of Leo. “Is that how you met?”
“We signed up together.”
“And advanced together apparently.”
All Castle did was nod. “Come here.”
With a huff, I slipped off the unit and limped over to the counter. He handed me a silv
ery gun.
“It’s a semi-automatic,” he said. “And those,” he said, pointing to the wall—on the fixtures were black machine guns that looked like modern versions of the AK I’d used, “are M4s. I’ll show you how to use them in the morning.”
The question was in my eyes; why?
His eyes were blocks of green ice when he said, “I’d feel safer knowing you can shoot with your eyes open.”
Castle showed me how to dismantle the handgun and clean it, how to reload it, and what bullets to use. We must’ve cleaned guns for two hours before a familiar heavy tug pulled at my stomach. It twisted and, suddenly, it was as if a knife stabbed into my lower stomach. I winced and pressed my tummy into my hands.
Castle ran his eyes over me. “What’s the matter?”
I grimaced and got to my feet, taking my bag with me. “There’s gotta be a toilet,” I said, glancing at the door behind the counter. Castle hadn’t wanted us to open it, but it was a need or bleed sort of situation.
I patted my bag and gave him a steady look. He understood; he got to his feet and stride to the counter.
“If there is a toilet,” he said, “it won’t work.”
“I just need to sit on it,” I said. “While I ... You know.”
Castle screwed a silencer on the silvery gun. “Who’s embarrassed now?” he said, a hint of smugness in the way he looked at me.
He handed me the gun before fixing a silencer onto a second one. We were armed and ready when we got to the door.
Castle turned the handle and slowly opened the door. It creaked in a whisper.
I did what I always did in these situations—rapped my weapon against the panel.
Castle stilled and I didn’t think he was too pleased by what I did. But nothing came jumping out of the dark corridor.
Just silence and abandonment.
I shadowed Castle further into the hallway. There were only two door, one to the right halfway up and another facing us from the end of the corridor. We checked the first one—it was an office with a dirty mattress on the floor. It hadn’t been used in a long time.
We crept up to the other door. I reached out to tap the door again, but Castle’s free hand shot out and snatched my wrist. I shot him a scathing look and made to speak, but his eyes touched to mine—the gleam of danger alarmed me. He shook his head and looked back at the door. I tiptoed closer and hovered my ear next to the wood.
And then I heard it. A rustle, like the sound of a newspaper being opened.
There was something in there.
Castle released my wrist and guided me behind him. I inched closer to his back, the gun clasped in both of my hands.
He coiled his fingers around the doorknob and turned—it swung open.
Castle didn’t move. I stared at his back, waiting for the all clear. But instead, a rough voice said, “Drop them.”
TOYS FOR BOYS
ENTRY NINE
Castle didn’t drop his gun. I could almost feel the tightness of his muscles as I tucked myself closer to his back. My body tilted and I peeked around his arm. A greasy man held a shotgun, aimed at castle’s torso. His beast eyes darted to mine. “You too, pretty. Or your boyfriend here gets his guts all over you.”
I stepped out of Castle’s shadow slowly and lowered my gun to the floor.
The man looked at Castle but he didn’t budge. The barrel of his gun pointed at the mans head.
“Did you hear me, boy?”
“I’m not your boy,” whisperer Castle. It might’ve been a whisper but the danger in his voice halted me. I crouched, frozen, with the gun in my hand a foot off ground.
“Don’t think I won’t blow a hole in your stomach.”
“I’ll think what I like,” said Castle. “For several reasons.”
“And whit are those?” spat the man.
“For one, you know that if you pull that trigger, I will too. We will both die. Then there’s the business with the noise that gun will make—noise that will attract unwelcome visitors. And,”said Castle in a firm voice, “your shotgun isn’t cocked.”
The man lifted his chin and looked down the barrel at Castle. “How you know that?”
Castle’s voice was void of fear; “You didn’t cock it.”
My eyes darted between the two; and I got to my feet. The crouching position has been aching my ankle. The gun was tucked in my hand.
The man grinned—he didn’t have most of his teeth. I pursed my lips and tried not to show the disgust on my face.
“All right,” he said and lowered the shotgun. “You got me.” He placed the shotgun on the floor and put his hands behind his head. “Now what do we do?”
Castle didn’t consult with me. Though, I’d be surprised if he did.
“She needs to use the toilet,” he said. “It’s sort of an emergency. You got one?”
He took a slow, purposeful step to the side. Behind him, I saw a storage room—one with a toilet stuck to the wall at the far back. I groaned.
“Go,” said Castle. He gestured for the man to move out of the doorway. I slinked behind castle then into the storage room. I shut the door behind me.
Castle had tied the man up at the front of the store. I was glad. The mans eyes followed me wherever I went and I knew that look. I stayed close to Castle.
He sensed my unease as I followed him around the shop, and checked to make sure I was still with him every other second.
“What are we going to do with him?” I whispered as Castle browsed a rack of holsters.
“That depends,” said Castle. He plucked a thin black strap from the rack and inspected it. “How squeamish are you?”
“I don’t support killing people in cold blood,” I said. There was doubt in my tone; the fear induced by the man’s hungry gaze. I wonder if he has seen a woman since the end of everything.
Castle handed me the holster. “Good for knives,” he said. “You should put it on.”
I took it and looked back at the man tied to the chair. He leered across the shop.
“You plannin’ on payin’ for that?”
“Yeah,” I said and glowered at him. “I won’t break your nose for looking at me the way you are—how’s that?”
Castle snorted.
The man gruffed and shifted in the chair. But his space was limited with all the wire and duck tape around him.
“Sounds like a damn good deal,”said Castle. He handed me another holster, but one for a handgun instead. “I’d suggest she cut that smile off your face.”
My lips twitched into a smirk, but then Castle strode down the low shelves and I scurried after him. He slowed his pace for my limp to keep up.
“How long you gonna stay in my shop taking what you please?”
“It’s not like you’re using any of this,” I huffed. “Have you just been here hiding for this whole time?”
“It’s the end of the world, sweet lips. What else is there to do?”
“Find people. A purpose. A group.”
“Never liked people much. Just fine out here by myself.”
Castle tugged me closer. “Don’t talk to him,” he said quietly. He guided me further down the shelves to the boxes of ammo. Then he started to stack them in his left arm. “We’ll be taking these.”
“We can’t carry all of that,” I said. “The Jeep is crammed as it is.”
“We need it. We’ll make room.”
“I don’t think we need as much as you’re taking.”
Castle sighed and looked back at me. “At the farmhouse, the infectees came first. You know why?”
I shook my head.
“To flush out our ammo. They stripped our defences down to swoop in after and steal the cargo. And if they didn’t get it, they’d have a lesser threat attacking again.”
My lips formed an O. “I guess we can put it in the boot and we’ll just sleep in the front seats.”
He nodded and gestured for me to help.
Castle stacked the ammo and guns into a bag that he
was also stealing. I’d wandered over to the front window and peeked through the black curtains. There were no rotters roaming the road but I couldn’t rid myself of the churning feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something just seemed off.
The man tied to the chair was too calm. He was either confident we’d let him live or had something brewing in his head. I couldn’t be sure.
Castle suspected the same. He didn’t tell me that, but I felt his gaze switch from me to the man every other second. He was on edge, too.
My gaze scanned the road and trees again. The Jeep was parked behind the building to hide it from passerby’s. After all, the other group was still out there; the defected deltas.
I tensed. Castle appeared behind me. I hadn’t heard him approach; I must’ve been so lost in my thoughts.
“I’m going into the storage room to see what’s in there—you’ll need to watch him.”
I pulled the gun from my holster and nodded.
Castle went out back and I perched myself on the wooden shelf, facing the old creep. The gun hung limply in my loose grip and my steady gaze stayed fixed on the man.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?” He said.
“Not sweetheart,” I said.
He gave me a toothless grin. “I’m Billy.” He nudged his head to the back door. “He with you?”
“Obviously.”
“You banging?”
I curled my lip at him. “Even if we weren’t, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
He ran his tongue over his wrinkled lip. A tremor ran down my spine, but I didn’t show it.
“I can be persuasive,” he said.
“I doubt that.” My tone was as icy as my eyes—something I likely mastered in Castle’s company. I shot the door a glance, hoping he’d come back soon. Even with Billy tied up, I didn’t feel safe. It was as if I’d been transported through time to my days on the streets. Men like Billy were no stranger to me.
“Not a good boyfriend, is he?” Said billy. “Leaving you alone with me. I could be a bad man.”
“You are.” My words came out firm. “And I’m the one with the gun. Don’t flatter yourself.”
