“What’s back there?” she asked, letting me know she had an eye on the bridge in front of us.
“I don’t see anything.”
Reaching behind me, I grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled myself closer to her, never taking my eyes off the distance, but still saw nothing that told me what had moved. Now that we were back to back, I felt more secure in our position even though I knew the sense of security was false. If someone was hunting us, which seemed very likely at the moment, they could have guns.
I hoped it wasn’t Andrew or someone like him. Then again, there were worse things out there than groups of men who wanted to drag me to Atlanta.
I swallowed, thinking about the young girl at my back and the things Andrew had threatened to allow his men to do to me at the farmhouse. Maybe I’d been a fool to cross this bridge.
Again, something scraped against the ground, echoing in the heavy silence, and I tensed. My fingers tightened on my knife until my knuckles ached, and behind me Ava seemed to turn to stone. Still, I saw nothing.
“Who’s there?” I called.
They knew we were here, so there was no sense in pretending they didn’t, and if it was a zombie, I’d rather draw the bastard out sooner than later. I knew I was living in a twisted world when I found myself rooting for a zombie, but I couldn’t help it. These days, men could be far more dangerous than the dead.
My voice echoed through the stillness, and only seconds after it had faded away, yet another scrape sounded. This time, I was able to pinpoint where it was coming from. Behind an old minivan whose doors were wide open and seats had been removed. It wasn’t that far from us, but it was far enough away that if the person hiding there decided to charge I’d have plenty of warning.
“Someone is hiding,” I said, keeping my voice low so only Ava could hear me. “Twenty feet back, maybe. Behind a car.”
“Here, too,” she said. “Close to the end of the bridge.”
Shit. We were surrounded.
“You ever fight someone before?” I asked, this time moving my hand up to cover my face in case whoever was behind the van was watching and could read lips. “You ever kill a person?”
I could actually hear Ava swallow. “Fight, yes. Kill, no. You?”
“Same,” I said.
Before I even had time to consider what else to say to her, a figure appeared in front of me, stepping out from behind the van like a ghost materializing from blackness. He was big and broad and wore a long, olive green coat that went down to his shins. Most of his face was covered by a ratty ski mask, making it impossible to guess how old he was, but even from fifteen feet away his eyes seemed to glint with evil. His hands, which were covered in black gloves that ended at the knuckle, each held a machete, and despite the worn and rusted blades, the weapons were menacing enough to send a shiver down my spine.
Behind me, Ava let out a little gasp, and I ventured a look over my shoulder to find a similar figure standing in front of her, only a little farther away than the man on my side of the bridge.
Shit. What the hell were we supposed to do against two burly, heavily armed men? We were pretty much cornered unless we wanted to jump in the river, which to me wasn’t a viable option at all.
“I’ve got one, too,” I told Ava so she’d be prepared.
For what, I wasn’t sure. To fight? Maybe. To die? Well, that was another good possibility. To be taken by these men God knew where and endure only God knew what? Probably.
“Get on your knees,” the man in front of me said, his voice sounding more like a rabid animal than a human. “Now.”
“Then what?” I called.
The man’s mouth, just visible through the opening in the mask, turned up into a smile that looked as about as friendly as a momma bear defending her cubs. “Then we’ll take you to the underground.”
Underground? Was it actually underground, or was it just a settlement that someone had named the underground? It sounded ominous either way, and there wasn’t a part of me that wanted to be taken there. Only I didn’t know what our options were right now. We could try to fight, but that would only result in us possibly getting hurt and making it more difficult to get away later. Or we could comply, and they might go a little easier on us.
“If we refuse?” I asked.
The man in front of me snorted. “You can’t really think you have a chance of getting away.”
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Ava muttered, drawing my attention from the hulk in front of me.
I looked over my shoulder again, only to find the man in front of her heading our way. Like the one on my side, he had a weapon in each hand, but he sported a hatchet in one hand and a bat wrapped in barbed wire in the other—could he have possibly copied anyone creepier than Negan? The most intimidating part of the whole thing wasn’t the man headed our way, but the people now standing behind him. Six of them, all dressed similarly and wielding weapons. All waiting at the other end of the bridge.
I turned back to the man with the machetes, half expecting him to have an army at his back as well, but he stood alone. He hadn’t moved an inch, not that it mattered with Ava and me cornered the way we were. We were pretty much screwed.
I cursed myself for not following my instincts. She was just a kid, not even sixteen, and I was under no delusions about what awaited us if these men got their way and dragged us to the underground.
I spun and grabbed Ava, putting her behind me and pushing her back until we were pressed against the side of the bridge. I knew it had to look pathetic compared to the men’s weapons, but I raised my knife anyway. It wasn’t in me to just toss it on the ground and give up.
The man who’d been charging toward Ava slowed but didn’t stop. “What are you doing?”
“She’s a kid, and I’m not going to let you do anything to her.”
The man to my left, the one with the machete in each hand, let out a low, barking laugh. “You’re cute.” My eyes darted his way, only to find that evil smile back on his lips. “We need some spirit to keep things interesting.”
My stomach did a twist that made me wish I hadn’t gorged myself on tomatoes.
Feet scraped against the road to my right, and I focused on the bat-wielding man again. He was moving faster now, his pace slightly slower than a jog but faster than a walk. It was more like he was charging.
The other man had begun to move as well, and I found my gaze bouncing back and forth between the two of them as they closed in on us. The Negan wannabe was closer and moving faster, and when he’d gotten within three feet of me, I spun on him, slashing my knife through the air. I must have caught him off guard, but I didn’t have a clue how, because the blade made contact with his arm. The rip of fabric filled my ears, and red burst across the sleeve of his shirt, but my triumph was short lived when the guy let out a growl.
He tackled me, his shoulder hitting my stomach and forcing all the air from my lungs as his arms wrapped around me. I felt like a ragdoll as we fell, him on top and me unable to muster even a single breath, my arms and legs flailing uselessly.
My back slammed into the ground, and pain shot through my body. Without the ability to breathe, I couldn’t even inhale, and I felt like I was on the verge of suffocating. Especially with the large man on top of me.
He pulled back, relieving the pressure on my chest, but it still took me a few seconds to regain the ability to breathe, and even then, I felt like I couldn’t suck in enough air.
His face was still inches from mine when he said, “You’re going to regret trying to slice me open.”
I believed him.
Somewhere to my right, Ava let out a scream. The only movement I could muster was turning my head in her direction, but it was enough to see what was happening. The other man, the one with the machetes, had her bent over the bridge’s railing, her arms pulled behind her back while he bound them with a filthy, yellow rope.
I was jerked to my feet before Ava had been righted, but the Negan impersonator didn’t both
er trying to tie my hands. Instead, he hoisted me off the ground and tossed me over his shoulder. It didn’t matter. With the pounding in my head and the way my ears were ringing, I could barely focus on what was happening, let alone muster the strength to fight.
My brain wouldn’t focus either, and at first, I couldn’t figure out why. When the man started walking and my head began to bob with each step, the throbbing in the back of my skull explained it. I must have hit my head when I’d gone down. And hard.
I blinked, trying to focus my eyes. The ground beneath me was a blur of black and brown and green, but I couldn’t concentrate on a single thing. Even the sounds around me seemed far away and foreign. I was pretty sure there were voices, but I couldn’t make out a single word, and there were human sounds as well. Crying, maybe? Ava. It had to be Ava. Laughter? Yes, that sounded right. It was loud and slightly off, but also familiar enough that I felt like I could put the word to the sound I was hearing.
Blackness clawed at the edges of my vision, and I blinked again, trying to keep it away. It didn’t help. Even lifting my hand and rubbing at my eyes didn’t work, and I could feel the darkness reaching out to grab me. It was like dozens of hands pulling me into a pit, and no matter how hard I tried to fight it, nothing seemed to work. After a few seconds, as reality slipped farther and farther away, I found I didn’t want to fight it. Everything hurt; everything felt fuzzy, and nothing I was doing made it better. Why not embrace the blackness?
16
I woke to darkness. Well, mostly darkness.
Light flickered in the distance, but it only served to make the shadows surrounding me seem deeper and more menacing. Every inch of my body ached, from the back of my skull to my arms and shoulders, down to my ass. Even my legs, which I couldn’t quite explain. I remembered what had happened, the way the giant man had lunged at me, tackling me like he was about to win the Super Bowl, but I couldn’t come up with a reason for the aching in my calves. Maybe it was because my brain was so foggy. Maybe I was forgetting something. Running? No. We’d had nowhere to run. We’d walked miles before trying to cross that bridge. Maybe that was why.
“Regan?”
Ava’s voice broke through my muddled thoughts, and I rolled my head toward the sound. She sat at my side, her face streaked with dirt where tears had cut trails down her cheeks, and her dark hair was a wild mess. In the limited light, I did my best to look her over, trying to gauge if she’d been hurt or violated. Some injuries, I knew, couldn’t be seen, but she looked pretty good. Shaken and tired, filthy from the river and our day of walking, but she was whole. Even her brown eyes didn’t look anything but terrified.
“Where are we?” I croaked even as the word underground floated through my head.
Ava swallowed and looked around before leaning closer, keeping her voice low when she said, “A basement or something. I’m not sure. They blindfolded me before bringing me down here, but it has to be underground.”
She was right. Only a minute of being conscious, and I could tell we were underground. It was cooler, like a cave or a cellar, and damp. Under the smell of smoke, the air was musty, and it wouldn’t have surprised me to find black mold growing in the corners.
I made a move to sit up, gasping when pain throbbed through me, and Ava reached to help. I didn’t stop her, mainly because I needed the aid, but also because the sight of her unbound hands distracted me enough that even the pain pulsating through my body was pushed to the back of my mind.
“You’re not tied,” I said once I was sitting.
Now that I was up, I was able to get a better look at the room. It was concrete. Not necessarily like a basement, but I couldn’t put words to what else it could be. An old metal drum sat in the corner, the fire inside the only source of light, but it was so far away that it did little to help illuminate the area for us.
“They untied me as soon as we got here,” Ava said.
“They?” I asked, wondering if she’d seen anyone other than the men who’d grabbed us. “The men?”
“And a woman,” Ava replied. “The men were here, but she was the one who undid the rope and inspected my wrists. She also gave me some water.”
“Did she say anything?”
Ava shook her head.
“What else? How old was she? Did you see or hear any other people? Did anyone threaten you or tell you anything?”
“I don’t know a thing,” she said. “The shadows made it impossible to see the woman well, and she didn’t say a word.”
Shit. We still had no clue what to expect.
“Was she tied up?”
Ava shook her head again.
That meant there was a chance, no matter how small, that the woman Ava saw wasn’t a prisoner. But it was also possible she was here against her will but had somehow earned enough freedom to be able to move around without restraints. This, of course, was something I didn’t say out loud. There was no reason to scare Ava until I knew more about our situation.
I shifted, and my brain focused more on my surroundings, namely the semi-soft surface beneath me. Upon further inspection, I noticed that Ava and I were on a thin, stiff mattress. It was bare of sheets, and there were no blankets in sight. Golden-yellow flowers decorated the fabric, mixing with the various stains until they almost looked like they were part of the design. They weren’t, and the varying shades of brown, rust, and even red were more than a little unsettling.
Scanning the shadows, I was able to make out something else. There was a solid, metal door on the other side of the room just past the fire, hidden by the shadows and barely discernable in the darkness.
I nodded to it. “Is that how they came and went?”
“Yes,” Ava replied.
“How long ago?”
They wouldn’t leave us in the dark for long. They were probably just giving me time to recover, meaning they’d be back soon, and I wanted to be as ready as possible.
The teenager gnawed on her bottom lip while tugging on her dark hair. “I don’t know, exactly. Not that long. Maybe an hour.” She shrugged. “It’s hard to gauge the time.”
“I know,” I said, patting her knee. “It’s okay.”
Whether an hour or ten had passed, we wouldn’t have much time. I was sure of it. In the meantime, we had to prepare.
I dragged myself up, cringing when my feet sloshed in my wet boots. Ava jumped up when I wobbled, her hands reaching to steady me. It took a moment of standing with my eyes closed before I dared open them to take a look around. Even from this angle the room was too dark to tell if there was anything lying around that we might be able to use as a weapon.
“We need to search the corners. See if there’s anything useful.” I took a step but stopped when Ava’s hand tightened on my arm.
“I did,” she said, her voice a low whisper. “There’s nothing in here, Regan.”
“Shit.”
I wasn’t surprised, but it still pissed me off.
“Okay,” I said, trying to sound like it was no big deal.
“What are we going to do?” In the short time I’d known her, Ava had rarely seemed her age, but she did now. She seemed young and scared and ready to crumble, and I hated that I’d gotten her into this.
I pulled her against me, wrapping her in a hug. “I don’t know right now because I’m not sure what’s going on, but I promise I’ll take care of you. Okay?”
She nodded but said nothing, and I did my best to ignore the moisture on my shoulder and what it implied.
She was still in my arms when the creak of the doorknob echoed through the room.
Like on the bridge, I pushed her behind me, this time painfully aware of how insignificant the gesture was. On the other side of the room, the door swung open, but for a moment all I could see was a gaping black hole. A second later, a light shone through the darkness, and my body tensed as I waited to see what would happen next. A figure appeared, little more than a silhouette in the opening, and I sucked in a deep breath, regretting it immediat
ely when the stink of smoke filled my nostrils.
A man stepped inside.
He held a lantern of some sort out in front of him as he approached, and the light flickered across his face, illuminating his features. He was old, probably in his late sixties, with a gnarled gray beard and hair the same shade that flowed down his back and nearly to his waist. His clothes were impossible to make out amidst the shadows, but the smile on his face wasn’t. It stood out almost as much as the gleam in his blue eyes did.
“Relax,” he said in a gravelly, yet fatherly, voice. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“If that’s true, you can just let us go,” I replied.
The man’s smile twisted, taking on a sympathetic note that made no sense, considering he was our captor. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why did you bring us here?”
“To save you, of course.”
He lifted his hands, the lantern still held in the right one, and the gesture reminded me of an image of Jesus I’d seen when I was a child. It had been in a book—possibly the children’s Bible my parents had bought me—and in it, he’d been floating in the sky, his hands lifted on either side of him and a serene expression on his face.
The comparison sent a shiver down my spine.
“Why don’t you tell me what you think you’ve saved us from,” I said.
“Sit first.” The man nodded to the mattress at our backs. “Please.”
I eyed him, not budging, but movement behind him distracted me, tearing my focus from him.
People had stepped into the room. A woman—possibly the one who’d untied Ava while I was still out—and a man. No, not a man. A teenage boy. Sixteen years old, maybe seventeen. Like the man in front of me, the teen’s long, brown locks flowed around his shoulders, and the beginnings of facial hair sprinkled his upper lip and chin.
Both the boy and the woman carried metal plates piled high with food, and the savory aroma of meat filled the room, overpowering even the stink of smoke. As they drew closer, I saw other things that made my stomach growl. Cheese and bread—something that was nearly impossible to come by in this post-apocalyptic world—and fruit. Grapes and apples, and even oranges. On a normal day, it would have been a feast, and after scrounging in the dilapidated greenhouse and only managing to find tomatoes, I couldn’t stop my mouth from filling with saliva.
The Oklahoma Wastelands Series Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 72
