Justice

by Gillian Zane

  “Bullshit.” Heather Murphey pointed at my chest. “Last time I checked those pretty, racist patches all over his jacket make him one of them. Men like you make me sick.” She turned and strode to the front door, leaving me with a glaring, micro-Barbie who wanted to shoot me.

  “I really…” I deserved that.

  “Like, I said, I wouldn’t mind shooting you, but I think it might upset the kids. So, sit back, relax and zip it up. In about an hour, we’ll get you back to the base.”

  “I’m yours to command,” I said and it came out a bit more flirty or sarcastic, than I intended. She frowned at me and looked at Pete who was staring at us not quite understanding what was going on.

  “I’m sure you’ll come to regret that statement,” she said coldly and smirked at me. My gut tightened and suddenly I had a feeling that I really would. I was being held by the last remnants of the Army and they thought I was the big bad. Nothing good could come out of this.

  TWENTY SIX | Monsters Among Us

  I didn’t know what to think about our captive. After our initial interaction, he quieted up and leaned his head back and feigned sleep. I knew he was faking it because every now and again he would look up and check his surroundings.

  He didn’t strike me as a predator either, more of a victim than anything. He looked freaked out and he had shown real concern for the children, and Pete in particular. Pete didn’t leave his side, like he also had an attachment to the young biker.

  I didn’t want to feel empathetic for this loser, but I felt like I was keeping a civilian captive, not an enemy combatant. And that didn’t sit well with me.

  When the sky began to lighten and the sun rose over the deserted neighborhood, I knew it was time to move.

  “Poche, this is Klink, we’re ready to move.”

  “Roger, Klink, there is no sign of any movement your way, bring them in. We’re placing the children in their former sleeping area.” It was Tammi Ryan who gave the orders, instead of Poche. The dynamic duo.

  “Got it,” I said and walked to Pete and Rebel.

  “We’re moving. We’re putting the kids back in their former sleeping area. Pete, can you run upstairs and get everyone ready to go?” Pete nodded and stood, stretching his tight muscles.

  “What are you going to do with Rebel?” he asked, unafraid of pissing me off again.

  “He’ll be held in confinement indefinitely,” I said coldly.

  “Us too, are we going to be held?”

  “No, you’ll be reunited with your parents and then your parents will decide if they would like to stay or move on. No one but the men that controlled the camp will be held against their will.”

  Pete nodded and looked at Rebel with regret obvious in his eyes. Rebel shook his head at the boy and tilted it to the side, indicating for him to go upstairs. Again the feeling that he really did care for the kid took surface. But what did that matter? That didn’t make him less of a rapist or less of an opportunist. Just another man looking to take advantage of the weak. It didn’t matter if he was protective of the kids, that just made him less of a monster.

  But, still a monster.

  TWENTY SEVEN | Blood Stains

  Heather Murphey and Hannah Klink moved everyone out of the house with stark efficiency. The women were rigid and had a take-charge persona the kids fell into step with.

  Hannah escorted me, while Heather led the group back to the base.

  “Take the kids through the back door. I’ll bring this one to the holding area,” Hannah called to Heather. Heather nodded her head and we split off from the group.

  “Where are you holding the prisoners?” I asked

  “In the office space above the grocery,” she said. The grocery my brothers had been using as the main area was located on the first floor of a small office building. It was only four stories high and made up of mostly reflective glass windows on the upper floors.

  The National Guard had been using it as storage when we joined the camp, but not much more. You couldn’t open the windows, so there was little ventilation and it had been extremely hot in the summer when we had taken over. From what I know, our group hadn’t even given the space much thought since.

  Hannah led me through the main area and I tried not to look at the blood splatters that were everywhere. It was a war zone. Bodies were being dragged out of the room as we walked in and I winced when I saw the body of my father being unceremoniously dragged out by a guy in fatigues.

  I didn’t have a lot of love for the man, but he was still my only relative. I halted abruptly, turning around to watch my father leave a red stain of blood on the terrazzo floor.

  “Come on,” Hannah said to me and pulled on my arm, but stopped short when she got a look at my face. I wonder what she saw there.

  Did I look like I was in pain? Maybe grieving? I didn’t know what I was feeling. Regret?

  “Friend of yours?”

  “My father,” I said quietly.

  “I’m–,” she began as if to say the compulsory, I’m sorry. But she stopped herself short and shook her head. “C’mon Rebel, let’s get you situated so I can get the fuck out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”

  “My name’s Reid.” For some reason, I didn’t want her to call me Rebel anymore.

  “I like that better,” she said quietly.

  “Yeah, so do I.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT | Left to Rot

  She brought me to the third floor and left me. The other members of her team had cleared the floor and the remaining brothers were locked in the offices that faced the street.

  I was placed in a room with Eagle, Jazz and Bayou. I would have thought Eagle would have gone down fighting. He wasn’t one to give in easily. If he was alive, Junior was probably alive.

  “Rebel,” Jazz said when they pushed me into the office. It was cleared out and the only thing in there was a bucket in the corner and a few piles of blankets in the middle.

  “Jazz,” I said casually, taking in his appearance. All three of them looked disheveled and they had blood stains on their jackets. Everyone’s wrists were secured, Jazz’s were in front like mine, Eagle had his uncomfortably secured from behind.

  It was hot in here. I had expected it to be freezing, but for some reason it was ridiculously hot. It must be the body heat. I had my leather jacket on and I wanted it off bad, but I couldn’t because of the wrist restraints.

  I had lost track of the days and months, but I knew it was probably mid-February or maybe March, and New Orleans was still in the grips of winter. It wasn’t supposed to be this hot.

  “So, Rebel,” Bayou drawled out my name, “Where were you when we got invaded by the fucking Army?”

  “With the kids, where y’all put me.” I was suddenly dizzy, I placed my palm on the wall to steady myself. My throat was killing me also. It had been hurting for a while, but I hadn’t paid it much attention. Too much happening around me. I went to the wall and leaned on it, trying to look casual, but I probably looked like a fool.

  “Gave up without a fight, did ya?” Eagle sneered.

  “It was me and a fourteen year old, wasn’t much of a fight,” I coughed and continued to cough until my lungs hurt. This made my throat hurt worse.

  “Fuck, brother, are you sick?” Jazz asked, real concern lacing his words.

  “No, I’m fine,” I replied, but I was lying. I hadn’t noticed before, probably because of the adrenaline, but there was a slight ache deep in my bones and my vision felt like it was fading.

  “You don’t look fine,” he responded. “Sit down, on the other side of the room though.” He killed any compassion with that statement.

  I did as told, but only because I really wanted to sit down. I slid down the wall and took a sitting position. It was the wall with the bucket, it would be disgusting later, but it would give me space for now. I didn’t want my brothers crowding in on me.

  I leaned my head back until it hit the wall. I closed my eyes. The adrenaline had drained from me,
leaving me weak and tired. I would take a little nap and then I would be fine. That was the plan.

  TWENTY-NINE | Sex Gods and Dust Mites

  “I’m sure y’all are ready to get back to your little island?” A young trooper was trying to make conversation as I waited for Blake and Zach to get back from whatever they were doing with Poche and Ryan.

  I couldn’t figure out if his tone was snide or jealous. I would assume snide. I always saw the worst in people.

  I shrugged and yawned. I was too tired to make conversation, especially with pissy privates. To be honest, I was dying to get back to our compound. Dying. I hated being in Lakeview. I hated this base. It was disgusting and depressing and there was no running water, or power and the smell of the dead permeated the entire area. I also couldn’t get the smell of vinegar out of my nose. At least at the compound it was isolated, we were right on the lake, so the air was fresh and there was always a wind blowing. I had taken it for granted, but now, in this place, where the rot of the dead hung over the area, I felt ill at ease and jumpy.

  As I sat there, I could smell the fires that burned the bodies of the dead. It was like being near a crematorium. Disgusting.

  I knew what was going on. I knew the reason Poche and Ryan had spirited away Blake and Zach the minute we had the base locked down. The four leaders were in serious negotiations– and I knew one of those points was keeping some of us here for protection, until they got their base in order and locked up tight. They were also most likely trying to keep the tactical vehicles we had poached, along with some of our weapons.

  It was never enough.

  All I knew was I wasn’t staying here one more day. Nope.

  “This place is a shithole, I can’t wait to get back to our island,” Lex accentuated the last part, obviously noticing the soldier’s tone too. She yawned and glared at me, I guess my yawn was catching. We were sprawled on a sofa that had been brought up to the second floor, which was being used as a command center.

  “We’re gonna make it great though, Poche has some good ideas and we’ll get solar panels, a few cisterns and this place will be just like home,” the trooper said eagerly.

  “Call me when that happens.” I smiled, but it must not have been reassuring because he blanched. Oh man, I must look bad.

  “Uh, yeah, sure.” He stood up from his chair and hurried off.

  “You always scare the innocent ones off,” Lex yawned again and slumped down next to me putting her head on my shoulder.

  “I didn’t scare you away when we first met,” I laughed.

  “I was hardly innocent when we met,” she laughed with me.

  “Bullshit, you were this baby, following Blake around like he was a god.”

  “You’re the Baby, not me, toots. And I was following Blake around like he was a sex-god, get it right, I got my priorities.” I heard the smile in her voice and smiled back even though she used that damned name again.

  “I really don’t want to hear that, he’s my boss.” I tried to get comfortable, but the sofa was cloth and I was imagining all the bugs that had used it as a home in the months since Z hit. The brown fabric had seen better days. I needed to get the fuck out of here.

  “So, you don’t want to hear about how he does this thing with his tongue, he just–“

  “Shut it.” I pushed her off my shoulder and she fell away laughing.

  “Y’all look sleep deprived,” Zach said as he walked into the waiting room, Blake right behind him, followed by Poche. They all swaggered, it was funny, each one jockeying for alpha male status.

  “I wouldn’t mind finding a bed somewhere,” I spoke up.

  “Me too, but not for sleeping, was telling Baby about that thing Blake does with his–“

  “Argh!” I threw my hands up to cut her off and was even more freaked out when I saw the three of them looking at each other with deep and annoying love eyes.

  “Can we go back to the compound?” I whined.

  “Not quite, we have to make sure this place is secure and then we can go back,” Blake said and Poche clapped him on the back. “Wouldn’t want to leave them vulnerable for attack.”

  “I really appreciate this, Miller. We couldn’t have done this without you and your team.”

  “It’s mutually beneficial to both of us. Having Lakeview back under control will help get this city back in order,” Blake said all officer like.

  A young soldier poked his head into the room and caught Poche’s attention.

  “What is it?” Poche asked.

  “Sir, we seem to have a sick prisoner.”

  “Already? Are you sure, or is he faking to try and escape?”

  “I’m pretty sure this is legit, sir, he’s running a really high fever and he’s unconscious.”

  “Shit, that’s all we need, something infectious,” Zach cursed.

  “Well, we already have an infirmary set up for the wounded, guess we have our first non-combat patient,” Poche sighed and pulled a walkie off his belt.

  “Ryan, can you get someone with a stretcher up to the third floor. We have a sick prisoner, probably want to quarantine him too. Wouldn’t want a bug getting around the camp.”

  “This just keeps getting better and better,” I yawned again.

  “Which prisoner is it and what room is he in?” Ryan asked over the walkie. Poche looked at the soldier.

  “Street name, Rebel. He’s in office 3G,” the soldier said and Poche relayed the information to Ryan.

  My gut tightened. I blamed it on being sleep deprived.

  THIRTY | Somewhat Responsive

  I woke up being jostled down the stairs. I was being hauled around by two guys in fatigues. It was dark and I was on something really uncomfortable. I tried to stay awake so I could figure out what the hell was going on, but I was so tired.

  Again I came to, but this time I was on a cot and someone was poking at me and shining some kind of light in my eye. I tried to swat them away but my arms were heavy and unresponsive. I thought it was one of those dreams where I would try to defend myself from an attacker, but I felt like I was under water.

  “Rebel, can you hear me?” It was a female’s voice. I recognized the voice, but I couldn’t place it.

  I tried to say something, anything, but it sounded gurgled even to my ears.

  “He’s somewhat responsive. I’m worried it’s in his lungs. I would normally do an X-ray to check,” the female’s voice said.

  “Treat him as if it is in his lungs, it sounds like it, and you can’t take any chances. Get some antibiotics in him and get him on a fluid drip,” a male voice said.

  “We’re really gonna waste our medical supplies on him-” another male voice said.

  “What if–,”the female started to say, but I was fading fast. I wanted to hold on, I knew there was something wrong with me and I wanted to know what was going on. But it took me fast and again I slipped into sleep.

  THIRTY-ONE | The Good Guy

  “He’s the one I brought in, the one with the kids.” I looked at the unconscious biker. He looked so much younger asleep. We were in the makeshift infirmary that Melinda and Isaiah had put up quickly. I was curious about what this guy had, since I had spent a few hours with him, I didn’t want to come down with anything if it was contagious.