He eyed the green energy field more closely, noting that it sizzled with electricity. Ralph continued to moan with anger and sadness, whimpering, Connie’s name eternally on his lips. Brandon and Norah didn’t move. Norah’s eyes were stern, hard, as if she’d seen battle before. And Daniels moved closer to Alayna, placing a hand on her back.
“What the hell are we going to do now, Sheriff?” Brandon asked, breaking the silence. Clay turned to face the group.
As if on cue, howls and screeching rang through the air, reminiscent of the crazed monsters in the town. Clay whipped his head back toward the energy field, watching as three of the once-humans crawled from the interior of the smoking SUV at the side of the road. One had a broken neck, and his head lolled from side to side as he stretched his limbs toward them. The other two with him, both young men, began to wail and rush forward. Alayna and Daniels ran to stand beside Clay as a first line of defense. They lifted their guns.
“Shoot them in the brain,” Clay said. “When they get close enough.” The unarmed people in his group cowered behind the military vehicle. Ralph continued to weep.
When the approaching crazed were mere feet away, Clay swallowed sharply, his Adam’s apple catching. He could see into the window of these monsters’ eyes, almost sensing what kind of men they’d been before they turned into their manic forms. He was going to kill sons, fathers, brothers—men of his beautiful town. And he couldn’t afford to think about it.
The moment Clay was about to shoot, the first monster blasted into the energy field. Just as Connie had done moments before, he disintegrated immediately, his crimson blood blasting like a bomb through the air. The other two followed along the same, mortal path. Their brittle bones coated the grass on either side of the energy field and splattered over Clay’s pants. Clay leaped back, feeling the strength of the blast. He blinked toward Alayna, noting that her nose dripped with blood.
“What the—?” Ralph cried again. “What the hell is going on?”
But in the silence that followed, Clay couldn’t find words to console his group. The crazed individuals who had been meant to remain on the inside of the energy field were now on the outside. It seemed that Colonel Wallace’s plan hadn’t panned out precisely as they’d all hoped.
And Clay didn’t even want to consider what that meant for the rest of the world.
Chapter 51
After several minutes of stunned silence, Clay turned on his heel and strode back to his cruiser, swiping his arm through the air. “Let’s . . . get away from here. Let’s go back to the hotel,” he said. “Come on.” His hope wavered, but his motions were sure, disguising his inner turmoil. As he watched the group of stragglers meander toward the vehicles, Clay considered the fact that those rescued over the last twenty-four hours might now be an elite group of survivors, no longer misfits that were left behind. He knew he had to get them away from that energy field and out of the open, where they seemed like fresh meat for the virus-impaired crazed.
Alayna guided her patrol car back toward town, Clay and Daniels following close behind. They sped through the deserted streets, continuing to disobey common traffic laws. Clay and Brandon didn’t have words for each other. What they’d just seen was treacherous, dramatic—but certainly not as horrible as Brittany’s death earlier in the afternoon. Clay couldn’t bring himself to think about Valarie and Maia, hopefully tucked away safely in Austin. He felt the weight of his phone in his pocket, remembering that the cell phone towers were no longer operable. He just wished he could talk to them—hear their comforting voices. But he was alone, isolated. He and his group of survivors had nothing but each other.
The three vehicles parked outside the hotel, finding crooked spots on Main Street. The group rushed into the hotel, breathing heavily. Ralph stomped directly up the steps and toward the bar. His unsteady hands wrapped around a large bottle of bourbon, and he tilted it back quickly. Clay watched him from the corner, inhaling sharply, sure the man would lurch forward, vomiting.
Finally, Daniels reached forward and snuck the bottle away from Ralph, leaving the man gasping. No one spoke. They turned toward Clay, assessing their leader. He could sense their thoughts. What the hell were they going to do?
He swiped his hand over his balding head and eyed the clock. His mind was pulsing with fear, and he couldn’t calculate how much time they had left. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem like enough.
“We don’t have a way to contact the government,” Clay finally spoke, realizing honesty was essential. “The cell towers are down. And our walkie-talkies simply won’t reach that far. Without Lieutenant Daniels’s device to get us out . . .” His words drifted off.
Daniels took a hearty sip of the bourbon and swiped the back of his hand across his mouth with a violent motion. “He’s right. But do we even want to get out of here?” he said gruffly. “Whatever those things are out there, they are just as rampant as the ones that were inside the containment zone. There’s no telling which is the safer play.”
Norah collapsed onto a barstool, her white, permed hair lopsided on her head. She clacked her knuckles against the bar counter, and Ralph handed her an entire liter of vodka. She uncapped it with a flourish and sipped from the bottle. It was clear: she felt she was nearing the end of her life after a long, hard road.
“Whatever,” Brandon scoffed, sitting next to Norah and pouring himself a glass from her bottle. “Maybe we should all just give up and die. It’s not like we have a lot to live for anymore.”
The air was tense with low morale. Everyone except Daniels, Alayna, and Clay seemed to drink quickly, allowing the comfort of alcohol to fold over them. Clay felt too guilty to drink and too tense to eat. His stomach flipped as he eyed Alayna. With her hands stuffed in her pockets and her nose toward the ground, she looked defeated, a shell of her former self.
“I just wanted to find her,” she whispered. “You don’t think she went toward the energy field, do you?”
“We can’t know anything,” Clay said. “We didn’t see any sign of her. It’s no good to think the worst. Hope is the only thing we have.”
“And we don’t have a whole lot of it,” Brandon blurted, tilting his head back for another sip. “Hope won’t bring back my sister or my parents. I’m alone now, without anyone to call my own.”
Clay didn’t speak. Brandon’s snide tone cut through him. Beside him, Daniels leaned toward Alayna, sadness in his eyes. “You know, Alayna,” he began, “I’m really sorry for everything that happened. I mean, how I treated you. Not listening to you. And then—and then becoming a part of you and Megan’s fight—” He paused, his voice haggard. “I didn’t mean for this to come out of it.”
Alayna turned away from him, blinking wildly, hiding tears. “Whatever, Lieutenant. You cocky bastard. You thought you could save us all. But all you did was ruin my life.” Her voice was wistful, almost lost. She lifted a finger high in the air, gesturing toward Ralph. “Pour me one of those, will you?”
Ralph bowed his head, pouring the drink and sliding it across the countertop. Alayna wrapped her hands around it, sipping it with closed eyes. With that single motion, Clay felt her slipping away.
Suddenly, Clay noticed movement out the window. Something white flashed across the corner before darting out of sight. He rushed forward, pressing his nose close to the glass. “What the hell,” he muttered.
“What is it?” Daniels asked, joining him.
There, in the center of Main Street, stood a tall, dark-haired man wearing a long white medical coat. He held his chin high as he moved, walking in great strides with a sense of immediacy.
“Who’s that?” Daniels asked, eyeing Clay. “You know everyone in this town, don’t you?”
Clay shook his head, trying to get a better look at the man’s face. “He’s a stranger.”
“I thought you swept the town clean?” Brandon asked.
Clay turned from the window, questions running through his mind. He charged toward the staircase, Daniels hot
on his heels. Who was this mysterious man wandering through Carterville?
Chapter 52
Clay and Daniels bounded from the hotel and ran down Main Street and toward the white-coated man. The moment their boots hit the pavement, the man heard them and began to run, his coat streaming behind him like a cape.
“HEY! WE’RE NOT THEM!” Clay cried. “WE WANT TO HELP!”
Daniels grunted. “I don’t think he thinks we’re going to eat him. He’s avoiding us for some other reason. Come on. He’s fast.”
They bolted down Main Street, past the toy store and the church. Clay’s lack of sustenance made his limbs quake. He stretched his legs farther, watching as Daniels skirted ahead of him, chasing after the mystery man. He watched as the white coat turned at Moe’s Candy and bounded up the steps.
Clay and Daniels reached the entrance right before the white-coated man tried to lock the door. Beneath his dark hair, he wore a panicked expression, assuring Clay that something was amiss. In this desolate scenario, why would anyone run from a sheriff?
The man began to back through the candy store, busting his elbow against various containers. Gumballs and licorice and chocolate balls scattered to the ground. A smile stretched across his face, showing bright white teeth—so strange and stark amid all the candy.
“Stop right there,” Clay ordered. “We’re just here to save you. You have nowhere to run.”
The man’s eyebrows rose high. He took another step backward, knocking into a large jar of jelly beans. They spilled to the floor, raining oranges and reds and yellows. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man whispered, His voice ominous.
Daniels lunged forward, reaching toward the tall, lanky man. Just as his firm fingers wrapped around the man’s upper arm, the man reached behind him, grasping at what appeared to be a hidden door. He lunged against Daniels’s grasp, huffing. “Let go of me,” he protested.
“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” Daniels blared, shaking him. “Didn’t you get the evacuation notice? Don’t you know you shouldn’t be here?”
Clay stood beside him, then, glaring at the stranger. “We don’t want to hurt you. Just tell us what you’re running from. Why are you here? What’s going on?”
The man bolted back toward the door again, grabbing a large jar of jawbreakers and throwing it at his pursuers. It smashed against Daniels’s face. He surged for the door again and rushed into the darkness. After a split second of panic, Daniels yanked him back into the light and punched him, first in the stomach and then across his temple. The man skidded back, flailing against the store shelves and shattering more jars of candy. His eyes closed, and he fell from consciousness.
Clay gripped Daniels’s arm, flustered. “Why the hell did you do that?” he cried.
“What do you mean?” Daniels asked, incredulous.
“Why’d you punch him? Why’d you knock him out? You had him in your grasp,” Clay said, scoffing.
“I don’t know what the big deal is. We got him, didn’t we?”
“Sure. But he’s still civilized,” Clay said, gesturing to the man slumped on the ground. “This guy, he wasn’t showing signs of the crazed. I don’t think he was going to eat us or anything.”
“But he was up to something, or why would he run and put up a fight?” Daniels said, shrugging. He lifted the man up by his armpits before flinging him over his shoulder.
“Well, that’s not the tactic I would have used,” Clay sighed, eyeing the devastation of the candy store.
“He’s nothing but a schmuck, Clay. Let’s get him back to the hotel and wait for him to wake up there. Then we question the hell out of him.”
Daniels retreated from Moe’s Candy and began to retrace his steps, the body of the white-coated man flapping against his back.
Chapter 53
Daniels carried the unconscious man up the steps and into the hotel bar, where the other survivors awaited them, sipping languidly from their drinks. The moment Clay appeared, Alayna stirred. She knocked the rest of her drink back before slurring, “Who’s that?”
“Don’t know,” Daniels offered, dropping the man into a chair at the center of the room. “We should tie him up.”
“Tie him up?” Alayna asked. “What do you mean? Why is he unconscious?”
“It’d take too long to explain,” Daniels said gruffly. “This one’s sour. That’s all you need to know.”
Alayna searched Clay’s face, her lips parting with confusion.
“But he’s left behind, just like all of us,” Ralph mumbled. “What we should do is get him a room to sleep it off.”
“He assaulted us and tried to flee,” Clay said, reaching for several towels draped across the bar. He wrapped them around the man’s wrists, tying him to the wooden chair. “We need to talk to him before anything else.”
“Jesus,” Brandon scoffed. “What kind of loonies are you?”
Clay poured a large glass of water, sipped a bit from the top, and then tossed the rest over the unconscious man’s face. After a second, he began to sputter and cough, finding consciousness again. He blinked rapidly, assessing his surroundings.
“Who are you?” Clay asked him, his voice stern.
The man coughed again, stomping his feet on the ground, realizing he was tied. “Get me out of here!” he cried.
“Who are you?” Clay asked again, leaning toward him, his face mere inches away from the stranger’s.
“I don’t understand. I haven’t done anything wrong,” the man spat. He’d looked strong, dominant, and tall during his rush toward the candy store. But now he looked weak, like a child. “Let me go.”
“Listen here,” Clay said, his eyes flashing. “I’ve been a sheriff here for nearly fifteen years. Which means I know just about everyone here in Carterville. And guess what? I don’t know you. I don’t recognize your face.”
“What of it?” the man said.
“Tell me your name. Tell me who you are and why you ran. And then, maybe, I can consider letting you free.”
The man sighed, his eyes glancing toward the door. After a moment of brimming silence, he answered. “My name is Leland Jacobs. You don’t know me because I’ve only just moved here. For a job.”
Clay scoffed. “For a job. I’m assuming that’s selling sweets, then? Because you sure as hell don’t look like you belong in a candy store.” He assessed him, turning his eyes from his white shoes to the top of his gleaming forehead. “You’re dressed more like a scientist than anything. But we don’t keep your stock around here in Carterville.”
The man smiled, showing those bright, ominous teeth again.
“Yeah. Come to think of it, you don’t look like anyone I’ve seen around here, either,” Ralph said, coming out from around the bar. He stumbled but caught himself before falling to the ground. “And I’ve lived here my entire life.”
“Never seen him either,” Norah said, her eyebrows slanting.
“Tell us the truth, Leland,” Clay said, leaning even closer. His eyes penetrated Leland’s, causing the intensity to mount.
“Like you said, I work at Moe’s. My name is Leland Jacobs. And I’ve only just moved here,” the man said, brimming with confidence. “That’s about as much as I can tell you. Just like you, I am a simple man with simple habits.”
Clay crossed his arms over his chest and made momentary eye contact with Daniels, who made a slashing motion across his neck. It was clear this man wasn’t telling the truth. But why in the world would he be lying? Again, his gut felt stretched, giving him the sense that something was amiss. The Carterville he’d grown to know and love wouldn’t host someone like this. Leland Jacobs was surely a fraud. But how could he get to the bottom of it?
Chapter 54
Suddenly Daniels reached forward, grasping Leland’s forearm with tight fingers. The skin surrounding his grasp turned pale white and Leland’s eyes closed with pain.
“You’re going to tell us the truth now, Leland,” Daniels said coldly. “We’re done fuc
king around. You understand?”
Clay took a step forward. The tension in the room was palpable. “That’ll be enough, Lieutenant.”
But Daniels pressed on, ignoring Clay’s order.
“There’s . . . nothing . . . to tell,” Leland winced in pain. “I have nothing to tell you.”
These words fueled Daniels, causing him to untie the towels from the man’s wrist and lift him into the air once more. Anger made his muscles writhe. He began to stretch Leland’s arm behind his back, twisting it. Beside Clay, Norah placed her fingers over her mouth in horror.
“Jesus,” Alayna gasped. But still, Daniels stretched the arm back farther. Leland’s face drained of color. He looked moments from passing out. He began to squeal with pain, the noise echoing off the walls.
Brandon ran from the room, storming down the hallway. He slammed a door, clearly frustrated. But Ralph egged Daniels on. “We don’t have time for this. Break his arm! He’s a coward and a criminal.”
Suddenly Alayna burst forward, wrapping her hand around Daniels’s massive arm, shaking her head. “Stop, Adam,” she whispered, her voice like a lover’s. “Please.”
Daniels’s grip immediately loosened. Leland closed his mouth, halting his scream. Alayna peered at him with calm eyes. “It’s clear that he’s hiding something, but torture is not the way. Not today,” she said. “Maybe we isolate him in a room while we work some things out. We can’t be rash.” She gave both Clay and Daniels a dark look, causing Clay’s stomach to flip. His anger receded evenly. “Both of you should know that,” she said firmly.
“I’ll take him,” Clay said, stepping forward and grasping Jacobs’s arms, pulling them lightly behind his back. Something about Alayna’s words remained in his mind, spinning, causing him endless shame. Always he and Alayna had been united. Did she see him on the other side, with Daniels? He hated the prospect.
“And if there’s one, there might be more,” Daniels said, eyeing Jacobs with a sideways glance.
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