Which ultimately meant it was time to part ways.
Cory drew in a fresh lungful of smoke. Over the past few days, Jesse had been giving off a weird vibe. He was hiding something. Exhaling, Cory told himself it really did not matter, because soon they would both be on their own.
Finished with the butchery work, Jesse flung blood off the knife and signaled it was time to go. He wiped the blade on what little remained of the raptor's hide and headed back to the GTO. He returned and neatly wrapped the meat in a plastic drop cloth then carried it all back to the car. Finally, he came over to where Cory was waiting and stood in silence beside him.
Cory pretended to ignore him and savored the last drag on his cigarette.
“Thanks for all the help,” Jesse said dryly.
Cory flicked the cigarette butt and waited for it to land before pushing away from the fender.
“I need the crowbar,” Jesse said.
“Why?”
Jesse hesitated. “Just follow me.” He led Cory to a mid-sized Toyota truck. “Pry up the seat. Break the bolts.”
Cory stood motionless.
“Just do it, K?”
Nodding apathetically, Cory got to work. Once the seat had been removed from the truck, they worked together to haul it over to the GTO and shove it under the right rear wheel, which had become buried in the soft dirt. With a hand resting on the rear quarter panel, Cory scanned the distant tree line for movement, waiting for Jesse to get back inside the car. The door slammed shut and GTO started up and clunked into gear. The rear wheels spun once, twice, and then the one nearest Cory caught on the seat frame and sucked it under the tire. The car pitched forward in starts and stops then found the traction it needed and climbed out of the hole. It continued up the embankment until crossing back onto the pavement. Cory wiped his hands on his pant legs and stopped to readjust his sunglasses. He walked up the trail and got in the car. Signaling to Jesse that he was ready, he set one end of the crowbar on the floorboard, rested the other between his legs, and resumed spinning the bar between his palms.
The GTO rolled forward at an idle, building speed. Dirt clods slapped and pinged underneath. They continued up the road for another two hundred yards and into the center of the retail shops before Jesse brought the car to a stop in a pool of sunlight. Long shadows grew from the buildings and stretched across the street, looking like fat, square teeth. A hardware store was to the left and a barbershop and nail salon to the right. A hundred feet ahead on the right-hand side of the road was a Starbucks.
“Might as well see what's what,” Jesse said. “You check those.” He pointed with his chin at the barbershop and nail salon. “I'll check the hardware store. We can meet up at the Starbucks. Wouldn't mind a cup of coffee.”
Saying nothing, Cory got out of the car. He went to search the first building. On one door leading into a back room, he found thick grooves carved deeply into the wood. He traced his fingertips over the jagged marks and measured the spread. They were wider than his hand. Whatever had made them must have been big, really big. He came across nothing else of use, unless he had a sudden need for hair care products. But he did find some lollipops stashed in a cash register along with a pack of chewing gum. He pocketed the gum for later and took the box of lollipops. He unwrapped one and stuck it in his mouth.
It tasted like watermelon.
When he returned outside, he found Jesse kneeling behind the GTO and removing the rear license plate with a screwdriver.
Cory pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and waved it in the air.
“Anything?”
“Nope,” Jesse said. “Not a thing. Someone's already cleared them out.”
“Why the license plate?”
“We're from California.”
“Is that still your plan?”
“Yeah.”
“Not going to work,” Cory said then put the sucker back in his mouth and started rolling the stick between his fingers.
“Huh?” Jesse turned and looked up at him. “Why? You're still in this, right?”
“Yeah.”
“You gotta be fully committed if we are going to do this. These people are dangerous.”
“Then Eve and Kate are dead already, or will be soon. We can forget about them.”
“That's a load of bullshit. Don't go saying that. You'd better be with me on this, fully. Okay?”
Cory hesitated and checked his words, choosing to remain silent. Soon, he reminded himself and walked around to the passenger side, figuring a day or two, max.
“Hey,” Jesse said, coming up from behind.
Turning, Cory found the barrel of a shotgun aimed at him. He pulled the sucker out of his mouth and raised his head, exposing his neck. He tapped it with his middle finger. Jesse licked his lips and seemed to consider his actions. The pissed-off grimace on his face melted, and he lowered the shotgun.
“We need to do this,” he said. “Please.”
“Why?”
“Because I promised them, goddamn it. It's as simple as that.”
Seconds passed between them.
Cory realized he could stand and argue about where they were going all he wanted, but what was the point? He had done so several times already with the same outcome. It just went back and forth. Jesse's mind was made up and so was his. He sucked a sharp breath through his nose.
He was rewarded with a warning, the barely detectible stench of death.
“Smell that?” he asked.
Jesse went instantly alert. He listened, sniffed the air himself, and checked in different directions. He pointed with the shotgun. “Coming from over there.”
At the far end of the block near the Starbucks, there was movement.
Dozens of raptors.
Both he and Jesse rounded the GTO on opposite sides, got in, and slammed their doors shut simultaneously. Cory looked at Jesse then at the way ahead. The roadway was clear but would not be clear for long. From the left, raptors were streaming through the shadows and racing toward the car, being careful to avoid the pockets of sunlight by staying in the shadows.
“I hope you didn't plan to stay here tonight,” Jesse said. “I didn't like this town much. Too small for my tastes. And probably no coffee.” He shifted into gear.
“Hold on.”
Tires peeling, the GTO sped away from the approaching raptors. They blew past them then past the far end of the community and back onto the desolate road. As they drove on further, the sour odor grew steadily worse.
Jesse let up on the gas and slowed the car.
On the left-hand side of the road, stacked into a pile about three feet high, were at least ten dead raptors in differing states of decay. The sun was shining on the pile, almost spotlighting it. The bloated pale corpses reminded Cory of giant maggots rotting in the sun. Swarms of insects rioted above the pile in shifting black clouds, and scores of birds, both small and large, had landed and were picking at the dead.
Cory pinched his thumb and index finger together and gripped the plastic frames of his Ray Bans. He shifted the lollipop to one side of his mouth, keeping the white paper stick clenched tightly between his teeth. Slowly, he lowered his sunglasses. They moved a fraction of an inch, then a fraction more. Finally, he stopped when the bridge of his glasses rested on the tip of his nose.
He peered over the dark lenses at the mysterious pile.
What the—?
-28-
CROSSROADS
JESSE KEPT THE GTO hovering over the double yellow lines painted on the blacktop. Purposefully, he avoided looking at Cory in the seat beside him.
“Yes, it will work,” Jesse said through clenched teeth. “We just—”
“No, you need to forget about them. They are dead, lost.”
“How the—?” Jesse did not hide the incredulity in his voice. He was losing his temper again. “Seriously, man, what special kind of asshole are you?”
“The kind who knows.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
/>
“Fine,” Jesse said. “How about I drop you off here then? How about you walk to your damn ass to the bunker?”
“How much farther?”
“Further to what?”
Cory said nothing.
Jesse gripped the steering wheel and squeezed it beneath his hands until they turned white. “So you can go chase your virus? That's a line of bullshit you've been fed. Get over it. There is no virus. Nothing will kill those things.”
Cory said nothing.
The casual indifference was what Jesse hated most. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel and swore under his breath. An overturned UPS van was growing nearer on the road. He turned the steering wheel slightly in the direction of the van, wondering if it would be better to crash the car into it. He knew he could not go after Eve and Kate alone. He needed Cory's help, and after days of trying to persuade him to come along, he found they both returned to the same old, tired argument. It was like telling the crazy captain in that whale book he'd read in school to forget about the goddamned white whale.
“You know your problem?” Jesse said. “You don't value people.”
“I have traveled…never mind.”
Jesse braced himself and stood on the brake pedal.
The car came to a skidding stop, drifting sideways in a haze of gray tire smoke.
Cory pushed himself back into his seat but did not speak. Jesse shut off the ignition. Except for the ticking sound of cooling metal, everything in the car was silent.
“Get out,” Jesse said.
“What?”
“I said…get the hell out. You like walking. You don't want to help. So, about time you started walking.”
Cory rubbed a spot above his eyebrow. While Jesse could sense the hatred coming from the guy, he did not want to acknowledge it. The guy was an asshole. Cory reached into the back seat, grabbed his bag, and yanked it next to him.
“Enjoy whatever the hell you find out there,” Jesse said, wrenching his hands on the wheel.
After opening the door, Cory glanced back once and nodded. He frowned and got out. On the right-hand side of the road was a grove of evergreen saplings. To the left of that was an open field. Jesse knew this was a bad place to leave him. It was far too exposed, but this was all part of the plan. He was pissed at Cory, but only half of the outrage was actually real. He just needed Cory to buy into it for a little while longer. He leaned across the seat and pulled the passenger side door closed then clunked the car into gear and jammed the gas pedal against the floor. The tires spun, slewing the car to the right. He let the car go a hundred yards down the road before glancing in the rearview mirror and slamming on the brakes again.
Cory walked down the centerline as if he owned the narrow ribbon of blacktop. Jesse put the car in reverse and backed up until Cory was next to the driver's side window.
“Get back in the car,” he said, taking the anger out of his voice. “In ten minutes we'll reach a town. From there, you can make your way on your own if you want. This is a bad place here.”
Wordlessly, Cory continued walking.
“Come on, get in,” Jesse said again.
Cory remained silent, but he came around to the passenger side and got in. Jesse let off the brake and the car slowly built speed.
Miles passed between them in silence.
As they neared the intersection with the main highway, a gas station appeared on the right. Across the street from it was a metal storage building. In the Y-shaped intersection just ahead, Jesse spotted what he'd been looking for over the past few days.
“Let me out here,” Cory said.
Too late.
Just around the corner were two vehicles, a car, and a pickup truck. Even from this distance, Jesse could make out the familiar sun and ray logo painted in yellow on the side of the truck. Two men stood tall in the load bed of the pickup. Both looked over in surprise at the idling GTO.
“Let me out,” Cory said and cracked open his door.
“No.”
Before Cory could jump out on his own, Jesse drove the GTO up next to the men and leaned out the window, pretending he was lost and asking for directions. It must have seemed odd to them. No one greeted anyone else so casually, not any longer.
They all scrambled for their weapons.
“Hey there,” Jesse said in a friendly tone. “Glad we finally found you.”
A man with a rifle came back from the car and pointed his gun at Jesse. The man had a white ribbon tied around his arm, as did the men accompanying him.
“Whoa,” Jesse said, “no need for all that.”
“Out of the car,” the man said. He was large and had frizzy gray hair and a dirty black beard. He wore a thick leather motorcycle jacket. The white ribbon on his arm had a strip of red on it. The others were plain white.
Jesse stepped out with his hands raised, keeping them away from the Beretta on his hip.
“Okay, okay, no need to be rude,” he said and glanced quickly at Cory, using his eyes to tell him not do anything stupid.
Cory raised his hands and stepped out. He remained near the passenger side with the door open.
“What the hell are you two doing here?” the frizzy-haired man said.
“Came to find you,” Jesse replied. “All the way from California, we are. Heard about you guys. Wanted to join up.”
“What about him?” the man said, indicating Cory. “He doesn't look too happy to see us.”
“No?” Jesse said. “He is. That's just how he normally looks.”
The man gave up his rifle, came over, and took Jesse's M9. “Nice,” he said as he tested the weight. “Now, stand over there.”
“I'll be wanting that back,” Jesse said, moving to comply.
The man in the motorcycle jacket chuckled and flashed a smile filled with broken and missing teeth. He returned to his group and stopped to slap the shoulder of the guy next to him. Jesse hated parting with the gun, and hated even more that it had been so easily taken from him. He was also not overly fond of the guy who had taken it, but he would have to endure. He hadn't been shot yet, either, so he was already way ahead of where he thought he might be.
He was taking this big chance.
Swallowing his disgust, he went to the side of the road. He stood where the man had indicated, watching for signs the others would simply shoot him and leave him there. He was counting on Cory to have learned his lesson from last time and not go crazy and try to take everyone out.
Nice and peaceful.
Two men searched the GTO while another kept his rifle up and ready to fire, finger straight next to the trigger.
“Shotgun! Mine!” one of the searchers said gleefully. He stepped away from the car and fiddled with the shotgun, cocking it and checking the feed. He bent to pick up the ejected shell.
Jesse stepped toward the guy.
“Stop!” one of the men said. The guy with the shotgun stumbled to get the gun up and pointed at Jesse.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa…come on,” Jesse said. “We're all friends here.”
“We ain't your friends,” the fat man said.
“Should we kill 'em, Jax?”
The fat guy, Jax, considered this for a few seconds. Then he smiled. “No, not yet. Any more weapons?”
“Shit, I so want to shoot 'em. Come on, Jax. Lemme.”
“No, you ain't shooting them. Not now, not ever,” Jax said. He pulled at his beard. “We need a couple of volunteers. These jokers might be perfect.”
“Oh, yeah,” the man snorted, “that.”
Stepping to the front of the men, the guy who had taken the shotgun pointed it at Jesse's head and then at Cory and said, “Hope ya'll are fast runners.” He lowered the gun and returned to the truck.
Jesse wondered what he meant by that and suddenly worried this might not have been such a good idea.
Jax examined Cory, head to toe, left and right. “Why are you dressed like that? You look like a damn vampire. That what you are? A vampire?”
&n
bsp; Getting no response, Jax snatched the Ray Bans from Cory's head. Cory did not flinch or move at all, and Jesse couldn't keep himself from smiling a little.
“And where did you get that ugly head wound? Looks nasty.”
Cory said nothing.
Jax nodded and peered through the lenses of the glasses. He put them on as another man went through Cory's pockets.
“Smokes!” the guy cried.
“Give 'em here,” Jax said.
“But I found 'em, fair and square.”
Jax pushed the man and snatched the cigarettes from him. He tapped one out and stuffed it between his lips. “Find a lighter?”
The man searching Cory kept probing and filling his hands with what he found.
“Hey, check this out.” He held up Cory's skull and crossbones Zippo lighter. “Cool.”
Jax took the lighter and something else. He unfolded the second thing he had taken, not so carefully.
Jesse saw Cory stiffening, preparing to strike.
A picture?
Cory inched closer to the man, scowling.
“You like the car?” Jesse said to diffuse the tension. “You want it? We can reach an agreement if you help us out. Show us how to join up.”
“Yes, yes, we can.” Jax said, chuckling from the belly. He looked at the picture and grunted. He held it in one hand and removed the cigarette from his mouth. He started to bring them both together while watching for a reaction from Cory. The burning tip moved to within half an inch of the photograph. It was close enough to it that the photo began to singe.
“The car,” Jesse said, interrupting. “Like it right?”
Jax swiveled to face Jesse. “Yeah.” He turned back to Cory, who was standing there expressionless. But Jesse could see through it. Cory was preparing to strike. Jax only needed to move an inch or two closer.
He didn't.
“Nice picture,” Jax finally said and absently tossed the photo at Cory.
Red Asphalt: Raptor Apocalypse Book 2 Page 23
