“He’s bit,” he finally said, and two of the mercenaries immediately stormed forward, brushing past him into the back room.
“No, no!” Leo screamed, and then two gunshots silenced him.
Eddie’s gut clenched hard, and he hung his head. He didn’t feel good about this at all. Any elation he’d felt from his revisit to his guitar heyday evaporated. He also felt guilty for being so angry that the man hadn’t said anything, and could have turned at any time while they were stuck in that room, killing them both.
“You’re clear?” one of the mercenaries asked him, eyeing him carefully.
“Did you even check him before you shot him?” Eddie ashed through clenched teeth.
The mercenary sneered at him. “He was holding up his bitten arm,” he said, tapping the flashlight on the top of his gun. “Do I need to strip you to check?”
“No, you can just take a look at me, asshole,” Eddie muttered, holding up his hands higher so they could see his intact clothing.
“He’s clean,” the other mercenary said, and then they ushered him out of the store. No Name approached them, pointing to a few off to the side and motioning for them to head back towards the department store.
“Where’s your teammate?” he asked.
Eddie clenched his jaw. “He was bitten,” he said.
“We took care of it, sir,” one of the mercenaries added, and No Name nodded, for a moment looking just exhausted.
“Where are the others?” Eddie asked, tucking his crowbar into his belt buckle. “Are they okay?”
“Your shipmates are the only ones to survive,” No Name replied flatly. “Come on, we still have to clear out the main floor.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Grace straightened as No Name approached with Eddie in tow, but not Leo. Mercenaries lined the railing, firing sporadically down at the ghouls wandering around on the main floor. Thankfully, none of the ghouls had attempted to get up the escalator, so the trio had finally had a well-deserved break of it.
“Leo didn’t make it?” Troy asked, voice tired.
Eddie simply shook his head as he joined them. “I see you guys fared just as well,” he replied.
“That was some kick-ass guitar playing, my man,” Hawk piped up.
“Saved my ass,” Troy added. “Thanks.”
Eddie shrugged. “Saw an opportunity.”
“Stay sharp,” No Name cut into their reunion, motioning to the ground floor.
Grace rolled her eyes. The zombies didn’t stand a chance against the mercenaries’ guns, and they were easily taking out the few stragglers.
The stragglers from the hundreds that we dealt with for you, she thought bitterly, shaking her head. The quartet stayed quiet, standing vigil as the gunmen took out the last of the ghouls.
“Sweep the mall,” No Name barked, and men jogged towards him, heading down the escalator in a single file.
“Are we done, then?” Troy drawled. “Or do we get to lead the men with assault rifles on their sweep, carrying crowbars?” He held up his weapon to accentuate his point.
No Name didn’t meet his gaze, his jaw clenched hard. Grace watched him, noting his discomfort and his tired eyes. She knew it was dangerous to wonder if he would break and go against his masters, but she couldn’t help it. Especially after such a long, draining day. It was difficult not to give into such hopes.
As the last of the men headed downstairs, No Name motioned for them to go. “Let’s get back outside, through that maintenance tunnel,” he said. “I’ll drive us back to the ship.”
They filed downstairs like good little lemmings, and out into the fresh air. The mall had a stench to it, the stench of death. Grace wondered if any of these buildings would ever not smell like death, ever again. After being packed full of corpses and blood… could it ever really wash away?
They dumped their weapons into the bin by the van, and Grace reluctantly pulled out the gun and walkie-talkie, handing them back over to No Name. He checked the chamber and popped out the mag, blinking down at it in surprise.
“Bullets to spare,” he said. “I’m impressed.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t want to waste any resources,” she replied. “Only used it when I needed to.”
He nodded and opened the passenger door, motioning for her to climb up.
Grace wrinkled her nose, not exactly excited about his act of chivalry, but decided she was too tired to argue, and climbed up into the passenger seat. He shut the door as the others got into the back of the van and skirted the hood to come around to the driver’s seat.
They rode in silence, and Grace couldn’t help but ruminate on how, after such a short time, they’d already been trained like dogs. They did their job, gave their equipment back at the end of the day, and then rode back to their cells. Just that morning they’d accused their captors of being QXR canines, but here they were.
She held on top the hope that it was okay for them, because they had no choice. She side-glanced No Name. Did he really have a choice, either? She knew it was dangerous thinking, and mentally chastised herself, but it was possible that No Name, and maybe other mercenaries that were in the group, were just as much prisoners as they were.
She shook her head. She didn’t need to worry about anybody other than herself. She was the bottom of the food chain, and she needed to survive. For Dante.
When they got back to the ship, they filed inside, feet dragging as the exhaustion really began to overtake them. No Name locked them up, and then disappeared as they got comfortable, returning in a few moments with a tray of food.
“Mac and cheese?” Troy raised an eyebrow as he took his bowl. “What are we, college students?”
No Name glared at him. “Would you rather have nothing?”
“No sir, enroll me in a local class,” Troy quipped, and took his bowl, digging in with fervor as he sat on his bed.
“Yet another delicacy that could be improved with hot sauce,” Eddie declared as he took his bowl, and No Name took a step back to regard the quartet as they ate their meals.
“You four did a really great job today,” he said.
Grace couldn’t hold in her scoff.
“Got something to say?” he asked.
She licked her lips, setting down her fork. “It was a shitshow in there,” she said. “We were under prepared, and only half of our team survived.”
“That’s why I said you four did a great job,” No Name explained. “I appreciate it.”
Hawk scowled. “Yeah, we really live for your appreciation.”
“My appreciation keeps you alive another day,” No Name snapped, but the words didn’t hold as much venom as they could. He sighed. “Rest up. Don’t know where you’ll be posted tomorrow.” He turned around and left through the stairwell before any of them could retort back at him.
“That guy gives me a rash,” Eddie said through a mouthful of cheesy noodles.
Hawk nodded. “He’s better than Mosley at least,” he replied.
“Amen to that,” Troy agreed, raising his fork in solidarity.
Grace stayed quiet, chewing slowly, enjoying every bite of the boxed mac and cheese. It had been a favourite of hers when she was a little kid, and Dante made it for her often. At the time she hadn’t realized it was because it was cheap and they didn’t have a lot of money—she just thought he was doing it because she liked it.
Her heart clenched at the thought of him scraping pennies together to take care of her, so young. She couldn’t help but wish for a world where he didn’t have to take care of her anymore. Where he could just move on and live his own life, a happy life.
“So, where’d you learn to shred the guitar like that?” Hawk finally asked, regarding Eddie.
The smaller man laughed, shaking his head. “Used to play in a punk band when I was a teenager,” he said. “Twisted Carnage, we called ourselves. We were fucking terrible.”
The others laughed, even Grace, who couldn’t suppress a chuckle.
“It was me and five guys, and all of us still lived with our parents,” Eddie continued. “Thing was, none of our parents wanted to listen to us making noise, so practicing in anyone’s garage was out. We worked shitty fast-food jobs and pooled our cash to rent out a storage container where we’d go to shred. Though I use the term ‘practice’ loosely… really we just got stoned and made a ton of noise.”
“Did you play gigs?” Troy asked.
“There was one bar that used to hire us, and it was grungy as all hell,” Eddie replied, chuckling and shaking his head. “They had all the random shitty punk bands all the time, and the place was always full of a bunch of teens and early twenty-somethings slamming into each other and busting the place up. I can’t believe that place didn’t get shut down for selling to minors.”
“How long has it been since you’ve played?” Hawk asked. “If it’s been that long, your hands must be killing you shredding for so long in that store.”
“Oh, I still play,” Eddie said, and then lowered his gaze. “At least, I did, before the world went to shit. Had a nice setup in my basement at home. Just to jam out after a hard day’s work.”
“What did you do?” Grace asked, finding her voice. It felt good to talk about normal things, instead of strategizing how to not die.
“Factory dog,” Eddie declared proudly. “Camshafts.” He waggled his eyebrows, and she rolled her eyes. “What about you?” he asked.
“Crossfit instructor,” she replied, smirking.
“Well that explains a lot,” Hawk said, cocking a smile.
“And what about you?” Grace asked, motioning to him. “You a firefighter or something?”
He barked a laugh, shaking his head. “No, little lady, I am most definitely not a firefighter,” he replied. “I was between jobs when this all went down, but before that I was doing some carpentry work.”
“Nothing like the apocalypse to save us from unemployment,” Eddie quipped as he polished off the rest of his food. “What about you, Troy? You look like you were a stockbroker or something.”
Grace laughed, shaking her head.
“Investment banker, thank you,” Troy replied haughtily.
Eddie blinked at him. “Isn’t that… that’s the same thing, right?” he asked, looking between the other two.
“Not the same thing at all,” Troy said, stabbing at his pasta with more force than was necessary.
“Okay, fancy pants,” Eddie drawled, and set his bowl by the cell door, for whoever was going to pick it up later.
Grace did the same, and soon all of them were finished, thoughtfully sipping on their water bottles.
“What do you think they’ll have us doing tomorrow?” Eddie asked as he stretched out on his bed. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and get to clear out a strip club.”
“Zombie strippers, man?” Hawk asked, shaking his head. “You are damaged.”
Eddie shrugged. “Just want to see all there is to see in this new world,” he replied. “Might as well take in all the local flavor.”
Grace shook her head as quiet fell over the group, and curled up under her blankets, picking up the fluffy romance novel she’d grabbed from the basket in the corner. It was a ridiculous tale of a damsel in distress and the handsome duke that saved her, but it was escapism, and that was what she needed, now more than ever.
END
Up Next: When a squad of QXR mercenaries stumble across their location, Dante and Ace must take drastic measures to protect the others in Lowcountry - Pt. 6
Pick up Part 6 here. https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08R6LMDCP
The main Dead America Series can be found here. https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07RWMXVNJ
Follow for new releases! http://www.DeadAmericaBooks.com
Dead America: Lowcountry | Book 5 | Lowcountry [Part 5] Page 6