“You’ll have to take the long way around, I guess…” His eyes flicked between her and her car. “Unless you have something to trade?”
“Are you blackmailing me?” Dylan asked with narrowed eyes.
“I wouldn’t call it that. Think of it as a toll fee,” the stranger said.
“Well, I haven’t got anything to give, so you can forget about it. No food, or water,” Dylan said.
“You’ve got a gun,” he said, pointing at her pistol.
Dylan shook her head. “Forget it. No trade.”
The stranger laughed. “Alright. How about a different kind of trade then?”
A cold shiver ran down Dylan’s spine when she noticed the way his eyes raked her body from top to bottom. “Woah, eyes up here. I’m not a slab of meat, you know?”
“That’s funny because that’s exactly what you are. Your body is just another commodity on the market. Lucky for you, it’s worth something, even banged up as you are.” The stranger rocked back on his heels, his hands still in his pockets, and his disregard infuriated Dylan.
“Seriously? You want me to sleep with you for passage through your shitty little town?” Dylan said, hot blood flushing her cheeks. A flame of anger churned in her gut, twisting, and turning.
“When you put it like that, it does sound rather bad. How about I throw in some supplies as payment? Maybe even a can of fuel? I’m sure you’ll make it worth my while,” he said with a grin.
The flame curling inside Dylan’s stomach exploded into full-blown rage. It burned through her veins until she thought she would combust and go supernova on him. Her hands twitched, and she had to fight the urge to strangle him on the spot. A vivid picture of his bulging eyes beneath her squeezing fingers caused her to smile.
“What are you smiling at?” the stranger asked, removing his hands from his pockets. He took a step back, clearly unnerved by her bared teeth.
Dylan didn’t answer. Instead, her eyes roved over the barricade behind him, spotting two more guns leveled at her. That brought the total up to three. She was outmanned and outgunned, but there was no chance in hell that she’d trade her body. A wave of recklessness washed over her, and she laughed. Might as well go out in a blaze of glory.
She took a sudden step to the side, placing her behind the open door of her car. At the same time, she hunkered down, whipped out her gun, and pointed it at the stranger’s face through the open window. “I’m smiling because, in the next ten seconds, I’m going to blow a hole right through that stupid grin of yours.”
The stranger froze, the cocky smile vanishing from his face as he stared down the cold length of her gun barrel. “Don’t be an idiot. We’ve got guns on you. You’ll be dead the second you pull that trigger.”
“Maybe, but I’d rather go out like that than let you touch even one hair on my head,” she said. “Now, call off your men, or I’ll kill you right where you stand. Got it?”
He raised his hands and waved at the men behind him. “Back off, guys. This bitch is crazy. She’ll kill me for sure.”
Dylan smirked. “You’ve got that right, at least. It seems you’re not completely dumb.”
He shot her a venomous look. “Now what?”
“Now, I’m going to get in my car, and you’re going to join me. Your buddies there will allow me to drive through your town, unharmed, or I’ll shoot you. Got that?”
The stranger swallowed. “You’ll never make it.”
“Maybe not, but if I go, I’m taking you with me. We can be buddies on the bus ride to hell,” Dylan said. It was a crazy plan and doomed to failure, but she was out of options. She had to get through the town or risk not making it to Fort Knox at all.
Before she could put her plan into motion, however, a ripple of movement ran through the assembled people behind the barricade. The loudspeaker came on again, and Dylan frowned at the message, unsure what to do next.
“Hello, miss. It’s Dr. Hayes here. I’m the resident surgeon, and I’m coming out to talk to you. I’m unarmed. Please, don’t shoot me.”
Dylan hesitated as a tall, slender man walked out into the road with his hands raised. She glanced at her hostage. “Maybe this is your lucky day. Maybe not.”
She raised her voice and shouted back. “Alright, Dr. Hayes. I’ll bite, but keep your hands where I can see them. If anyone makes a move, I’ll pump this boy so full of holes there won’t be enough left of him to bury.”
The stranger glared at her. “Boy? Who’s your boy? My name is Ray.”
“Shut up, Ray,” Dylan said as Dr. Hayes acknowledged her challenge.
“Understood. I’m coming out,” the doctor said, slowly walking toward her.
Dylan looked at Ray. “Let’s hope Dr. Hayes has more sense than you do, you little shit. Accosting a defenseless woman like that. You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Ray’s face reddened. “Whatever.”
“Remember. I’m holding the gun, so don’t try anything stupid,” Dylan said before turning back to the approaching doctor. Maybe, just maybe, she could talk her way out of the mess she found herself in even though the odds were stacked against her. Either way, she’d soon find out.
Chapter 17 - Dylan
Doctor Hayes paused a few feet away from Dylan and stared at her with keen blue eyes from underneath a mop of dark brown hair. She judged him to be in his early thirties, and he moved with the kind of casual ease that spoke of confidence. Not lowering his hands, he tipped his head forward. “Good morning, Miss…”
“You can call me Dylan,” she said, keeping the gun steady.
“Alright, Dylan. I’m here to negotiate for the release of young Ray over there. His father is very anxious to have him returned unharmed,” Doctor Hayes said, nodding at a distant figure over his shoulder.
“Well, you can tell his father that he should teach his children some manners,” Dylan said, shooting Ray a poisonous glare.
“I take it the boy said something he shouldn’t have?” Doctor Hayes asked.
“I’m not a boy!” Ray protested, his face flushing with angry blood. “What is it with you people?”
“What he did say to you?” Doctor Hayes asked, ignoring Ray completely.
“First, he refused me passage through your town. Then he suggested a trade. My body being part of the goods, of course,” Dylan answered.
Doctor Hayes shook his head. “I’m sorry, miss. That’s an awful thing to suggest to a lady and against our town policy.”
“Just Dylan, please. I’m nobody’s miss.”
“Fair enough. How about you call me Ethan? I prefer it to Doctor Hayes.”
“Fine, Ethan, but tell me something. If Ray’s actions are against town policy, how come they sent him out to talk to me and not somebody else?” Dylan asked.
“We’re shorthanded at the moment. Patrolling a town this size is quite a task,” Ethan answered, his voice mild. “When you arrived, Ray and his friends were the only ones manning the roadblock. They sent for Ray’s father and me, but we’ve just arrived.”
Dylan mulled this over, wondering if she could trust Ethan. Her instincts were telling her she could, but it was a tough call. “So, what happens now?”
“You and I negotiate your terms while Ray returns to his father unharmed,” Ethan said. “I can replace him as a hostage if need be.”
Dylan chewed on her bottom lip before nodding. “Deal. You’d make a better hostage anyway. I’m guessing with his attitude, not many people would miss him if he dies.”
A faint smile graced Ethan’s lips. “Probably not, whereas I’m the only town surgeon.”
Ray sputtered at their words, his face rapidly turning the shade of boiled beetroot. “You can’t be serious. Nobody would care? I’m right here, you know.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow. “You’re assuming I care what you think.”
Ray snarled, unable to contain himself. “Bitch.”
Before Dylan could reply, Ethan turned on Ray. “Go back to your father before
you kill us both, and next time, leave the negotiations up to the grownups.”
Ray stomped back to the roadblock, muttering evil phrases every step of the way. Dylan watched him go with a worried frown. “He’ll do something stupid one of these days.”
“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Ethan said, turning back to her. “You’re injured. Let me help you.”
“You want to help me?” Dylan asked with a disbelieving laugh. “That’d be a first.”
“I take it you’ve had a rough couple of days?” Ethan asked.
“A rough couple of years about sums it up,” Dylan said, rising slowly to her feet. Her calves cramped in protest, and she leaned on the doorframe to stay upright.
“That’s too bad, but if you let me, I’ll patch you up. It looks like you need it.”
Dylan shrugged. “I’m okay. What about passage through your town?”
“Granted.”
“That easily? What about him?” Dylan asked, pointing at Ray’s retreating figure.
“Forget about him. Ever since the outbreak, he and a few like him have taken to thinking they’re big chiefs around here, but they don’t run the show.”
“Who does?”
“The Mayor and his council of which I am a part of,” Ethan said.
“I see.” Dylan hesitated. “Do you know a woman called Maddie?”
Ethan shook his head. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“She was on her way here with her son, Kyle. Her mother lives in Vandalia. She’d have arrived sometime yesterday afternoon.”
“Could be, but I was at the clinic all day. If she did show up, she’d have been escorted to her mother’s house by one of the guards,” David said. “Is she a friend of yours?”
“Not exactly. I’m just curious, that’s all,” Dylan said, deciding not to tell him more for the moment. Who knew how much influence either Maddie or her mother had among the townspeople. It’d be better to steer clear of the crazed woman altogether, much though she’d have liked to see justice done.
A sudden wave of dizziness crashed over her, and she sagged against the doorframe. Ethan noticed and took a step closer. “You’re dead on your feet. Let me help you, please. I promise you’ll come to no harm.”
“You swear it?”
“I do.”
Too tired to argue further, Dylan gave in. “Alright, but no funny business. Once you’ve patched me up, I’ll be on my way. No questions asked.”
“Deal,” Ethan said, taking another tentative step forward. “Let me drive. That way, you can keep an eye on me at all times if it makes you feel any better.”
Dylan climbed into the car and slid over to the passenger side, making sure to keep her gun at the ready. “She’s all yours.”
With careful movements, Ethan followed, sliding behind the wheel and starting the engine. Before he drove off, he wrinkled his nose. “It smells like death in here.”
Dylan managed a laugh. “Death and zombies.”
“Something tells me there’s a story behind that,” he said.
“You could say so,” Dylan said, shifting around in her seat to get comfortable. “Maybe, I’ll even tell you one day.”
They approached the roadblock, and Ethan waved at the guards to let them through. A furious Ray stared at them before blasting off a volley of words at an older man, presumably his father, who stood next to him.
“Is that his dad?” Dylan asked, eyeing the square-shouldered, white-haired man with caution.
“That’s right. Let me talk to him for a second,” Ethan said.
“No! You can’t leave me here alone,” Dylan protested, acutely aware of the hostile looks being directed at her from all direction.
Ethan turned to her and placed one calming hand on her shoulder. “Dylan, please trust me. I won’t let anyone hurt you, but I have to diffuse the situation before it gets any worse.”
Something in Ethan’s gaze caused Dylan to pause in mid-panic, and her fluttering heart slowed to a steady beat. “You’ll look out for me? For real?”
Ethan nodded. “I’ve got you. I promise.”
Dylan sucked in a deep breath. “Alright.”
She watched with more than just a tinge of fear as he got out of the car, leaving her alone and exposed. He pulled Ray’s father off to the side, and they talked. It was an intense conversation with Ray interfering more than once. At last, after a sharp command from his dad, the boy skulked off to a corner. He was joined by two more guys, and the trio kept looking at Dylan in a manner that made her want to squirm in her seat.
Instead, she flashed Ray the middle-finger and kept an eye on them in the mirror with her gun in her lap. She had only four bullets left, but one of them would find a home in Ray’s skull if he so much as twitched in her direction. Finally, Ethan returned, his expression taut.
“How did it go?” she asked.
“He’s not happy with you pulling a gun on Ray, but I told him what the little prick said to you, so he gets it,” Ethan said. “Kind of.”
“What do you mean, kind of?”
“Forget about it. He won’t bother you. That’s the main thing.”
Dylan wasn’t a hundred percent happy with his explanation, but she decided to let it go. “Fine. Where to next?”
“I’m taking you to my practice to treat your wounds. After that, you’re free to leave anytime you want. I’ll even escort you out. Sound good?” Ethan asked.
“I guess so. It’s not like I have much of a choice,” Dylan answered.
The doctor drove off, and after a while, she tried to relax. The timer on her wrist was running down, each precious second another moment lost. Still, she wouldn’t get far injured as she was, and who knew what lay ahead. She had to be ready for anything — fighting fit.
When they reached his practice, she eyed the empty parking lot and lonesome sign with a dubious frown. “No sick townspeople today?”
“There are bound to be, but they’ll all be at the local clinic. I’ve been spending most of my time there since this all began,” Ethan said.
“Why?”
“There are two assistant nurses, a veterinarian, and a few volunteers to help. We decided to pool our resources since the outbreak began,” he said.
“Smart. Was it your idea?” Dylan said.
He laughed. “It was. We needed a central place where people could get treated quickly, and that was it.”
“Like I said. Smart.”
With a grunt of pain, Dylan levered her aching body out of the car and followed Ethan up the steps to the front door. He unlocked and led her through the empty waiting room, pausing only to switch on the lights.
He turned to her with an appraising look, taking in her bloodied clothes and matted hair. “Would you like to take a shower? I have a full bathroom in the back that you can use. I might even be able to scrounge up some fresh clothes for you.”
“Clothes?”
“You’d be surprised what the receptionists have left behind over the years.”
Dylan hesitated and glanced at the watch on her wrist, but the thought of a hot shower was impossible to resist. “I’d love to. Thanks.”
She waited while he rummaged around in a closet at the back. With a yell of triumph, he produced a t-shirt and a jersey which looked close to her size. He rounded it off with a pair of socks and a scarf. “Here you go. I’ll make some coffee while you wash up. There are soap and towels inside the bathroom. Enjoy.”
Dylan’s ears perked up at the mention of coffee, and her parched mouth suddenly reminded her how thirsty she was. Rushing inside, she opened the cold-water tap on the basin and gulped down as much water as her shrunken stomach could hold. The cold liquid revived her senses, and some of the light-headedness faded away. “Oh, that feels so much better.”
With care, she placed her gun on a small stool and locked the door. As much as she liked the doctor, she still didn’t fully trust him. Unwinding the cloth tied around her head took some doing, matted as it was with dr
ied blood.
After another long drink of water, she opened the shower taps until steam rose from the tiles and misted the mirrors. A floral body wash and shampoo waited on a shelf, and she scooped them up with a grin. As the air grew pleasantly warm, she eyed the waiting shower with drooping eyelids. “I am so going to enjoy this.”
Chapter 18 - Dylan
She stripped off her clothes and stepped into the stream of hot water, groaning with pleasure when it hit her skin. With careful fingers, she washed the blood from her hair, working the shampoo into the matted locks until the water ran red. She didn’t stop there, soaping every inch of her body as she went. Old bandages and band-aids fell to her feet, and she tossed them into the waiting bin.
Finally, she dared to take a look at her naked body in the tall mirror on the opposite wall and sucked in a horrified breath. The bite on her arm was beginning to rot, and the black veins had spread up to her shoulder. Tendrils crept along her back and chest, a road map of infection.
Her eyes were shadowed, her cheeks hollow and pale. Bruises and abrasions covered her arms and legs. The worst was the spot where Frankie’s undead boyfriend had tried to take a chunk from her arm. The area was a hideous mottled purple. She looked like death and felt like it too.
“I’m already half-zombie, I guess,” she said with a muted laugh. It wasn’t funny, though, seeing herself rot from within. Anything but funny.
Averting her gaze from the mirror, she continued to wash as well as she could, rinsing all the dried blood and puss from the bite wound until the water ran clear. Afterward, she dried off and wrapped her hair in a clean towel before getting dressed. Frankie’s boots and jeans would have to do, but at least she had fresh socks to wear. The new shirt and jersey was an improvement too, the material soft and warm against her skin.
By this point, she was almost too tired to move, but there could be no rest for her. Not when the clock continued its relentless countdown. With her gun once more at her side, she made her way to Ethan’s examination room.
He was waiting for her with a hot cup of coffee just like he’d promised. Even better, there was a whole plate of chocolate chip cookies too. Nursing the warm porcelain cup between her palms, she savored the strong brew one sip at a time while munching on the cookies. Gradually, the cramp in her stomach eased as she filled up on food and caffeine. “Thank you. I can’t remember when last I’ve eaten.”
Rise of the Undead Box Set | Books 1-3 | Apocalypse Z Page 10