I placed my elbow on the door handle and leaned my forehead against my hand. Everything was unraveling. Everything seemed so bleak. There were zombies close to the safe haven we led the survivors of North Platte to. If even one of those things got into camp and bit one person, it was over. Even if they stopped the threat, Quinn and I were done. No one would trust us, and they would probably blame us for not warning them. Florida was on the warpath and had the people, weapons, and technology to take us down. Liet escaped. I knew he wouldn’t rest until he made Quinn and I pay. I didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to us. I didn’t say it out loud, but Quinn was right. We should have attacked North Platte and Florida at the same time.
CHAPTER 6
A bump caused my head to hit the window, and I jerked awake. I hadn’t realized I fell asleep. I stretched and glanced over at Quinn. His eyes were focused on the road, his jaw muscles still prominent. He was still upset, still thinking about what happened in Dashton. Again, I tried to think of something to say. Still, nothing came to mind. I glanced out the windshield. Casper lay stretched out in front of us. A horde of zombies milled on the horizon. I thought back to the last time we were at the mall. Hundreds of them had converged on our position, ready to attack and eat anything that ventured into the parking lot. Luckily, the survivors in the mall were prepared for such an occasion. I could still smell the blood and feel the slick gore as we hurried across the parking lot. The gun made quick work of their rotting flesh. I wondered if it was possible to mount a mini gun on a semi. Then, someone could ride on top and just fire at will. Maybe it was something we could contemplate when we started killing zombies.
Quinn pulled onto the exit that would take us to the mall. My stomach fluttered. The people weren’t very happy the last time we happened onto their sanctuary, I could only imagine what they were going to say when we pulled up again. Would they believe us when we told them about the helicopters? Would they be willing to leave?
“What do you think they’ll say?” I turned to look at Quinn.
He blinked and shook his head. “I don’t know.” He looked at me. “We have to try, though.”
“I know.” I cleared my throat and wiped my sweaty hand on my pants. “Even if they don’t believe us, if the helicopters do show up, they’ll know what to do.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything.
We pulled into the parking lot. Six zombies milled around, obliviously walking in circles, waiting for prey to chance by. They would be easy to take care of. I could still see the mess from our last visit. The asphalt was stained an unnatural brown. Chunks of flesh and body parts had been dried by the sun, they were shriveled and wrinkled, the skin colored like tanned leather. The smell of rotting flesh faded, but was still present. It drifted into the cab. I gagged. Quinn shut off the engine, staring at the building.
“How do you want to do this?”
He leaned forward. “I say we take care of the zombies from the truck. Fire out the windows. Then, we walk in again, just like we did last time.” He glanced at me.
“Okay. Sounds like a plan.”
He reached for his door handle.
“I’m sure you were right,” I blurted out. I didn’t know where the words came from, and I didn’t know why I picked that particular moment to say them, but they had to come out.
He froze, his forehead wrinkled. “About what?”
“About Bill and Kyle. I’m sure The Families haven’t hurt them.”
He sighed. “I wish I could be so sure.”
I stretched across the seats and wrapped my arm around his neck. His arm encircled my waist. I knew he was worried about them. I knew when he said that at camp, it was more for his benefit and not mine. I could tell when he confronted Tanya, the rage burning in his eyes, that he didn’t know what happened to them. He was great about keeping his emotions in check, which was needed when we had a job to do, but he also had emotions, and they always found a way to the surface.
He buried his head in my shoulder. I stroked the back of his hair. We sat like that for several moments. Eventually, he lifted his head but didn’t pull away.
Resting his forehead against mine, he gazed into my eyes. “We can’t worry about them now. They know how to take care of themselves. As much as I want to help them, we have others to help first.”
“I know. But you are still entitled to your feelings. If you need to talk about anything, I’m here.”
He kissed me. “I know. But we have a job to do.”
He turned away and opened his door. I watched him fire a few shots before I rolled down my window and fired at the first creature who wandered into my sights.
The mall seemed more humid than I remembered it. We stood in darkness, shining our flashlights at nothing.
“Hello?” Quinn called. “Anybody here?”
“Maybe they’ve moved on,” I whispered.
“I doubt it. The boards over the windows look new.” He took a step farther into the room. “Hello?”
I didn’t want to remind him about the last time we were here and how hundreds of undead converged on the place. They probably damaged the old boards trying to claw their way in. But I did see his point. If they left, there would be no need to replace them. They could just let the creatures overrun the building. That didn’t make me feel better. The leader guy wasn’t very happy the last time we were there. In fact, he was downright angry. He wanted to keep his people safe, and who could blame him? How would he react when we told him he might be gunned down by soldiers from Florida? Would he let us leave alive?
“They’re probably in another store in the mall. We should check it out.” He wandered through the clothes racks.
Taking a deep breath, I followed behind him.
We were about half way through Sears when we heard the shuffling. I immediately froze. I wasn’t worried it was a zombie, it didn’t sound like one, but I didn’t want to be attacked again. They almost killed me the first time, and I had full use of both my arms. I doubted they would take it easy on me just because I was injured. I was still a little bitter about our last meeting in the mall. I didn’t realize how much it affected me until I stood in the dark once again. I shone my light around the room, trying to find the person. Even with my injury, if they decided to jump me, I was going to put up one hell of a fight. Skulking around in the dark. How fair was that? If I could see them coming, they wouldn’t get the upper hand. I thought their actions were cowardly.
“Who’s there?” Quinn called. “We don’t mean you any harm. We’re here to warn you.”
“About what?” the rough voice called through the darkness.
It was hard to pinpoint, but it sounded like it came from my right. I shone my light in that direction.
“Show yourself and we’ll tell you,” I called.
A light clicked on in the distance, and Quinn and I were illuminated in white. We turned to see the source, squinting against the brightness.
“Oh, it’s you again,” the voice said. “Wait here.”
Frozen in the light, we heard the person walk off. I glanced at Quinn, who shielded his eyes, trying to see past the light. That didn’t sound reassuring. He remembered us, which meant they might be mad at us. I hoped they would let us deliver our warning before threatening to kill us. Or actually murdering us.
More footsteps approached, and the overhead lights clicked on. The spotlight clicked off. With a white blob dancing in front of my eyes, I tried to focus on the group standing in front of us. Their features were a little hard to discern, but I could tell there were about ten of them. The leader, the guy with the graying hair, stepped forward, his hands clasped behind his back. He sighed.
“I thought I told you two never to return.”
Quinn held his hands out to his sides. “I know, but we needed to warn you.”
The man cleared his throat and tried to hide the agitation in his voice. “About what?”
“Florida has helicopters.”
The
room was silent for a long time. The man stared at us. I couldn’t tell if he was angry or didn’t believe us or what. His face showed no emotion. My discomfort grew with each passing second that he didn’t speak. If there was a clock in the room, I’m sure I would have heard it ticking. Finally, he sighed and jerked his head to the right.
“Follow me. Let’s talk somewhere more comfortable.”
We followed the man through the store to the opening that led to the rest of the mall. The chain gate had been opened, and as we passed through, it was pulled shut. It clambered closed with a rattle and the squeak of metal on metal. I cringed. Every zombie within a one-mile radius probably heard that. Not that it mattered; they could take care of them very easily from the roof.
We were led to the old food court. The tables and chairs were still in place, but couches and recliners also lined the area. The survivors made use of the several kitchens in the area, too. I don’t know how they did it, but they had the cook tops working, and I could smell their dinner. The scent of bacon and potatoes drifted into my nostrils, followed by the unmistakable scent of cookies. I couldn’t remember the last time I smelled fresh-baked cookies. It brought back a flood of emotions and memories of my mom. I thought about cold Saturdays mixing the dough while snow fell gently outside the window. I would sneak bites of the uncooked goodness. I didn’t care what Mom said, something that tasted that good couldn’t have salmonella in it. I was convinced she just told me that because she wanted to hoard the dough for herself. When we baked cookies, the oven made the kitchen so warm and comfortable, like my favorite blanket. The world outside didn’t matter. The only worry was making sure the cookies didn’t burn. The smell reminded me of happiness and safety.
I inhaled deeply through my nose, savoring the sweetness. My mouth watered and my stomach growled. Because of my exhaustion, I had to fight back bursting into tears. With everything that happened within the past several weeks, my greatest desire was to be back home, to be with my parents, to be safe. It would never happen, I knew that, and it made me sad. Normally, I was able to push the depression deep down. I could force myself to focus on whatever task was at hand, to push the memories aside, but it was getting more and more difficult. There were too many things we had to accomplish, too many tasks that bordered on the impossible, and they seemed to stack up. It was getting to the point where I just wanted to give up. Throw my good hand in the air and let someone else take care of it. I was too young to be burdened with saving the world. And I was tired. So very tired.
Several people were engaged in conversation as we approached, but they stopped and stared at us. I knew their looks were out of curiosity, but it didn’t help my mood. I tried to keep my face emotionless, but I wasn’t accomplishing it. My face was sour, my anger showing through. How could these people be sitting in here, baking cookies, when the world was going to hell? Why weren’t they doing something? Why weren’t they taking action? They had the fire power to make a difference, and they were content hiding in the mall. I balled my hand into a fist and clenched my jaw. Don’t judge these people until you know their story, I told myself. I took a couple of deep breaths.
The man led us to a collection of couches and chairs at the far end of the dining room. The area was set up just like a living room with a coffee table, end tables, and lamps. They even had magazines on the coffee table.
Quinn and I took a seat on the couch, the man sat on a recliner across from us. He sat on the edge, his elbows resting on his knees.
“Now, please tell me exactly why Florida having helicopters should be of concern to me?”
A girl approached and set a tray on the table. It held cookies and mugs of coffee. Quinn and I thanked her, and she walked away. I noticed she wore a new pair of jeans and tank top. We had our share of new clothes, but they didn’t stay that way for long. I bit my tongue, keeping comments about being sheltered to myself. We made our decisions, just like they did. I couldn’t hold it against them for not knowing an honest day’s labor. I’m sure they had their hardships. They just weren’t obvious. I picked up a cup of coffee and a cookie.
“We’re concerned they might patrol the area, see you and the other survivors, and mistake you for us. We just want to make sure you’re going to be safe.”
The man leaned back in the chair. He interlaced his fingers, all of them except for his index fingers, and brought them to his lips. He stared at us for a moment.
“I still don’t understand what you mean.”
Quinn glanced at me. I shrugged one shoulder and focused on my cookie. I bit into it. It was soft, warm, and the chocolate was half melted. It dissolved on my tongue. I closed my eyes, savoring the sweetness. If I died at that moment, I would have been happy. It was the best cookie I ever tasted.
“They might come after you because of what happened in North Platte.”
“What happened in North Platte?” the girl who brought us the cookies asked.
“Yes, please enlighten us.”
I shoved the rest of the cookie into my mouth, hoping it would choke back the anger that threatened to explode. I chewed slowly; the exertion of the movement brought my emotions under control. It wasn’t their fault they didn’t know what happened in North Platte. They lived a sheltered life. Communication wasn’t what it used to be. How would they know what was going on in the rest of the world? Why would they care? Why would they bother finding out what was happening to other survivors, other humans, as long as they were happy and safe? I fought back every urge in my body to stand from the couch and leave. I wanted to tell them never mind, deal with the situation any way they wanted to. We had enough crap to deal with, we didn’t need theirs. But I knew what Quinn would say, and, deep down, I knew staying was the right thing to do. Even if they were sheltered jerks, they still didn’t deserve to be blown off the face of the Earth. They deserved a fighting chance.
Quinn calmly told them about Liet and the uprising, but I knew it was a struggle for him. He had his hands folded between his legs, his knuckles were white. He was even more tired than I was. I took a nap in the truck. I imagined how frustrated and irritated he was. I ate another cookie while I waited for him to finish.
When he was done, the man sat quietly, absorbing the information. The girl shifted from one foot to the other, her eyes wide as she stared at him. Without warning, the man slammed his hands onto the arms of the recliner and pushed himself up. I jerked with surprise and almost spilled my coffee.
“Well, we appreciate you taking the time to warn us, but we can take care of ourselves.” He gestured with an open hand toward the way we came in.
“Duncan,” the girl whispered and stepped forward. She was going to say more, but Duncan held up his hand to silence her.
“We have been in this city for a long time now. We keep a vigilant eye. No one will get the upper hand on us.”
Quinn stood. “I hope you’re right. I really do. They won’t think twice about shooting you from the sky.”
Duncan’s eyes narrowed. “And if it weren’t for you and your rebellion, we wouldn’t have to worry about that.”
By that point, I had enough. I slammed my cookie onto the table before getting to my feet.
“You can’t blame us for wanting a better life. We didn’t have the luxury in North Platte you have here.” I fluttered my hand around the room, indicating the mall.
Duncan stared at me. “We all made our choices. I shouldn’t feel sorry, or have to pay, for the ones you made.”
“And what about reclaiming what’s ours? What about killing the zombies and taking back America?”
“We’re fine where we’re at. We don’t need anything more.”
“Duncan,” the girl said again. I heard the disappointment in her voice.
I hoped she would say more, maybe take our side and convince Duncan to do something, but she just walked away.
Quinn huffed. His face turned red, and I knew he was doing everything in his power to stay calm. He opened his mouth to say somethin
g, thought better of it, then walked away. I narrowed my eyes and stared at Duncan. I shook my head. There were so many things I could have said to him, so many things I wanted to tell him. I could have given him a speech about taking pride in his nation and wanting a better life for his followers, for his children. I could have told him he would be a hero, that future generations would tell his story for years and years, but I didn’t. I didn’t waste my breath. Instead, I followed Quinn out of the building.
We sat in the parking lot for a long time. The engine ran, and Quinn stared out the windshield.
“I don’t get it. I just don’t get it.” He didn’t look at me. “Not even a thank you.”
“Why would you think he was going to thank you? He probably thinks we’re the ones who doomed him.”
He took a deep breath. “I know. And that sucks.” He looked at me. “What other choice did we have? If we didn’t say anything and The Families found him, he’d blame me. Now, he blames me for warning him. It was a situation we couldn’t win.”
I placed my hand on his thigh. “But at least we’ll have a clear conscience. Whatever they do now, that’s on them.”
He took my hand in his. “You’re right. I can’t save them all. I knew that when I started this. It doesn’t make it easier, but at least I know I’m doing the best I can.” He forced a smile before putting the truck in gear. “What do you say we get a couple of hours of sleep before heading back to Dashton.”
I patted his leg. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for the jail.
I stared at him as we drove down the road. Quinn was always so confident, so sure of himself. Even in the direst situations, he remained calm. I had no doubts we’d be victorious in North Platte because Quinn was by my side. He had faith, so I did too. After the last few weeks, I could tell his confidence faltered, unraveling at the edges. He still tried to portray calmness and stay in control, but I could tell he didn’t feel it. I doubted anyone else noticed, they didn’t know him the same way I did.
Life After The Undead Omnibus [Books 1-2] Page 30
