She wasn’t sure why, but it felt as though something deep inside, something that had gone dark long ago, was now back to haunt her, and in a big way. Maybe it was Zimmer. Maybe it was the dog. Maybe it was the fact that the situation in the silo was spinning out of control.
“Step aside,” Liz said to the female keeping Zimmer’s neck together as they neared the door to the infirmary. Liz slipped in and swapped places, applying pressure on Zimmer’s neck.
The woman dropped back and changed her pace to a steady walk, her hand dripping blood onto the concrete floor.
Summer passed her, then looked back. “Thanks for your help.”
“Please let me know what happens,” the girl said, leaning up on her toes as if she were trying to make eye contact with the patient she’d helped hold together.
Simms and the dog zipped past her, taking an adjusted path around where the female stood.
“Someone needs to get that door,” Krista said, her eyes focused on the entrance ahead.
“I’ll get it,” Summer said, breaking into a full-on sprint. Anything to take her mind off the facts, even if it was only for a moment.
CHAPTER 12
“You better stop eyeballing me, boy,” Wicks said to Nomad, sitting across from him in the back of the transport truck. “Or I’ll gut you where you sit.”
“You okay back there, chief?” Watson asked through the pass-through window from his passenger seat in the cab.
Wicks couldn’t hold back a snicker when he made eye contact with Watson through the opening. “Yeah, I got this. Trust me. This guy ain’t nothing.”
In truth, Wicks would never admit it publicly, but he didn’t want to be where he was. Not now. Not ever. Not on some grunt-level babysitting mission. There were more important duties waiting for him back at the silo. Mainly, providing backup to Krista in case the situation changed with all the variables at play.
Yet he was thankful Watson wasn’t driving. Not after the last time when they nearly hit a building the size of Texas.
Allison had the wheel. One of the new guys. A decent man, though it was hard to tell for sure. The guy hardly ever spoke. He just grunted and fiddled with his beard, stroking it as if it were a pet.
Rumor had it Allison used to drive rock trucks for a living back in the day. Or cement trucks. Wicks couldn’t remember which. Not that it mattered. They all had a job to do.
When Wicks returned his focus to Nomad, he found the masked man’s eyes were still burning at him, seemingly content to push his buttons.
Wicks couldn’t keep his tongue in check. “You think just because you got the drop on me once that you’re something special.”
Nomad held quiet.
Wicks continued, feeling a swell of adrenaline inside. “I’ve seen guys like you before. Always opportunistic. Always looking for the advantage when someone not’s looking, instead of a straight-up fight. Like a real man. Won’t work again, asshole.”
“Why don’t you have your driver pull over? Then we’ll see. Straight up, as you say,” Nomad said, breaking his silence.
“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t ya?” Wicks replied, wondering if the prisoner’s worn-out voice was a ruse, its tone as ugly and mangled as the face hiding beneath the mask.
“You’re the one baiting me to go one-on-one,” Nomad said, leaning to the side to show the rope keeping his hands secure. “But of course, everyone becomes the tough guy when the opposition is no longer a threat. Like you said, I’ve seen guys like you before. And yet I’m still here.”
“Look around, dude. Do you see anyone to save your ass, like before? I mean really, what kind of man needs a bunch of bleeding-heart women to do his bidding? Seriously, it makes me laugh.”
“As if I would need any help to get the bulge on a tub like you.”
Wicks curled his fists and flexed his biceps, unable to stop the rage from showing. “Okay, buddy. Soon. Trust me, soon.”
Nomad shrugged. “You don’t even have to untie the rope. Plus I’ll give you the first shot. Just have your guy pull over and let’s see what’s what.”
“Oh yeah, this ain’t over.”
“Is this where I turn?” Allison said from the driver’s seat.
Wicks motioned with his head toward the front of the truck, not wanting to take his focus off Nomad. “Answer him.”
Nomad leaned and aimed his attention forward, holding for a two-count before he spoke. “Take a left at that oak tree ahead. When you see a bolder that looks like a giant cube, make a sharp right, down the next path. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
“You better not be pulling something,” Wicks said to Nomad.
Nomad sat back in his seat. “I’m a man of my word. Fuel, explosives, supplies. That’s what you’ll find inside.”
“Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“Believe what you want. I speak the truth.”
“You must think I was born yesterday, asshole. Nobody in their right mind would give up all of that. Not for a bunch of useless Scabs. Even if they are females, nobody’s ever going to dip their wick in that nasty hooch. Parts be falling off the man.”
“I should have expected nothing less from a man like you. Always predictable. Always taking the low road.”
Wicks let out a thin smile, his mind conjuring up a dozen ways to beat the prisoner into submission. “Just keep it up, buddy. Your time is coming.”
CHAPTER 13
Summer ran the end of the nozzle over Sergeant Barkley’s neck, letting the water soak in before moving it down and around to the bottom of his snout.
She couldn’t believe how much blood had soaked into the strands of fur, but her fingers were able to loosen most of it. The redness released, then mixed in and ran clear with the runoff as it swirled around the shower drain and disappeared.
Krista stood a few feet behind Summer, grilling Simms. “All right, tell me what happened. Don’t leave out a single detail. I want the truth, all of it.”
“Maybe we should go somewhere else,” Simms said, his tone cautious and leading. “You know, out of earshot of both of them.”
Summer realized the blonde boy was referring to her and the dog. “Just pretend we’re not here.”
“Go on, out with it,” Krista said to Simms. “I’ve got shit to do.”
“Well, it’s simple really. That dog got loose and tore into Zimmer.”
Summer shifted her weight to the left, blocking the shower door after Barkley turned his head to look at Simms. She figured it was best to keep herself positioned between the two of them. Just in case.
Krista continued, “Got loose, how? He was on a leash, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting him to take off like that. Next thing I know, his teeth were buried in Zimmer’s neck.”
“Just out of the blue? The dog attacked?”
“Something obviously sparked it,” Summer said, keeping her eyes trained on the dog, while her hands continued their cleanup. “Ask him how, Krista. There has to be a reason.”
“She’s right. There has to be a reason.”
Simms paused before he spoke again. “Look, the last thing I wanted was for any of this to a happen. But it did and I’m not the one who did it. That dog did.”
The tone in Krista’s voice turned even more direct than before, almost like a cop interrogating a lowly drug dealer after a bust. “Why were you in Zimmer’s office? Weren’t you supposed to be out exercising the dog?”
“Yeah, that was the plan until I got a message from some dude I don’t know that Zimmer wanted to talk to me about something. I was only two levels up, so of course I went to his office. Figured it was okay. I mean, it’s still walking the dog, right?”
“You didn’t find it odd that Zimmer wanted to have a chat? It’s not like you two are buddies.”
“No, we’re not. But he’s a higher rank and I figured I needed to do as I was told.”
Krista’s voice increased in volume when she said, “But he’s no
t your section chief. I am.”
“Plus technically, you work for me now,” Summer said, still washing the dog.
“I get all that, but I wasn’t sure. So I went.”
“Okay, so you went. Then what happened?” Krista asked.
“I sit down and he starts in about some things he’s concerned about and whatnot.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t remember exactly. In fact, I’m not sure he even said for sure, but I was nervous and just trying not to get into trouble. I’m the new guy, remember?”
“Was he talking about someone in particular or something else?”
“I think it was a general thing, like he was worried for the safety of everyone. That he didn’t like the way things were going around here.”
“That sounds like Zimmer,” Summer quipped.
“Then what?” Krista asked.
“He goes on for a bit, then he asks me if I’m loyal to the cause.”
“What cause?”
“Not sure. I think he meant to his cause.”
“Zimmer doesn’t have a cause, other than to stir shit up,” Summer said. “We all know that. He just sits in his office and stews, looking for something to do.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure he didn’t like the way we took charge and changed the rules with the new Ruling Triad,” Krista said to Summer. “We did kind of do an end run around him. Not sure anyone would have been okay with that, least of all him.”
Summer shook her head. “Yeah, well, that’s his problem. He’s a man, so he just needs to zip up his fly and deal with it.”
Krista laughed, though it was more of a snort than a giggle. “Okay Simms, he asks you if you’re loyal, then what?”
“I said yes. I’m loyal to Nirvana. That I’m here to do whatever I can to help. That’s when he turned cold and started spouting off about me not paying attention to what was happening or some crap like that. I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I just kept quiet.”
“So how does that explain what happened with the dog?”
“Hang on, I’m getting to it,” Simms said. “After his speech, he stops and looks at me with a deadpan face and says, ‘Kill that dog. Right now.’”
“He said what?” Summer asked, turning her head to Simms.
“He told me to wrap my hands around Sergeant Barkley’s neck and choke him to death.”
“Are you serious?” Summer asked, not wanting to believe what she was hearing.
“Yes. That’s what happened. He wanted me to kill the dog to prove my loyalty.”
“Zimmer wouldn’t do that,” Krista said. “That’s just not who he is.”
“Well, he did. I’m not making this up.”
“Well, you obviously didn’t,” Summer said, giving the dog a hug. A wet, sloppy hug.
“No, of course not. How could I? When I refused, Zimmer took out a gun and pointed it at me. He said either the dog died or I did.”
“A gun? Zimmer?” Krista asked in a cynical tone.
“Yeah, it was pointed right at my head. I knew he was serious. He was going to kill me if I didn’t do exactly what he wanted.”
“Is that when Barkley attacked Zimmer?” Summer asked.
Simms nodded. “It’s like the dog could understand English. He started barking and growling and then took off and tore into his neck. Never seen anything like it.”
“Okay, that makes more sense now. I knew there had to be a reason,” Summer said, returning her eyes to the dog, who was now sitting down in the shower stall with his head back, seemingly enjoying all the attention he was getting. “Sergeant Barkley was just defending himself like anyone else would do. And you, as it turned out.”
“Wait a minute,” Krista said. “You said the dog growled and barked, then went after Zimmer.”
“Yep.”
“That would mean you had time to hold the leash tighter and pull him back.”
“Well, uh, yeah, no, it wasn’t like that exactly.”
“Then how was it? Either he took off unexpectedly or you had time to hold him back. Which was it?”
Simms didn’t answer.
“You’re a strong kid, so I’d say the chance of you not being able to hold back the dog with the leash in your hands is nil. Not if you had advance warning like that.”
“What are you saying, Krista?” Summer asked.
“I think Simms needs to say it, not me. Time to come clean, young man. Tell us what really happened.”
Again Simms paused, this time for a good ten seconds. “Okay. Okay. I let him go. Otherwise, we’d both be dead. Are you happy now?”
“On purpose—” Krista said.
“Yes, I had to. I couldn’t kill the dog like Zimmer wanted. It was the only way I could think of to stop what was happening.”
Krista held for a few beats, nodding, her mind obviously deep in thought. “You better just hope Zimmer doesn’t die, kid.”
“But you don’t understand. It was self-defense. I didn’t have a choice.”
“So you say. We’ll need to look into this matter a little more. Verify a few things.”
Simms threw up his hands and flared his eyes. “Like what? Zimmer? He’s not going to admit any of this. Why should he? I’m the new guy, not him.”
“Don’t be so sure about that. Sometimes people surprise you,” Krista said.
“Yeah, right. Not guys like him,” Simms said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn it, I never should have said anything. I’m screwed either way. Nobody’s ever going to believe me.”
Krista held for a beat. “We’ll see. For now, we do, but the jury is still, out as they say.”
CHAPTER 14
Wicks followed Nomad into the bowels of a cave located about twenty minutes south of the city. Watson was a few steps behind, watching their six, while the driver, Allison, had remained with the vehicle, making sure nobody doubled back while they were inside. This may have seemed like a low-risk babysitting mission, but Wicks wasn’t taking any chances. “How far, dickhead?”
“About four levels down,” Nomad said, “though it would go a lot faster if you untie my hands. Hard to balance this way.”
“Nah, we keep it just like it is,” Wicks said with one hand on the Nomad’s shoulder, keeping the man upright as they traversed the first flight of steps made of stone.
There were industrial-style lights installed along the path with electrical cable running between them in draping sweeps, though none of them were working. At least the rusty handrails were intact, giving Wicks confidence Nomad knew where he was going.
They’d only hiked about ten yards and already the sunlight beaming in through the entrance had almost gone extinct.
Right on cue, Watson fired up his flashlight, blasting a concentrated beam that created two extended shadows ahead. One was Nomad’s and the other belonged to Wicks.
“Who built this place?” Wicks asked Nomad.
“Who knows? Was here long before me. Was a tourist trap back in the day, though.”
“People will pay for anything, I guess,” Watson said from behind.
Wicks leaned forward to miss a low-hanging archway passing over him. Its rock-face ran smooth and was filled with browns and tans in an impressive swirl-like pattern. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought the archway had been engineered, like the bulkheads in the silo.
He took another step, tasting the dampness in the air, its wetness tingling the receptors on his tongue. He’d only been to Florida once in his life, but if he had to place a bet, he’d wager the humidity in this cave would trump what happened in that state on a regular basis.
Wicks couldn’t stop his eyes when they decided to glance up on their own. All he saw was penetrating blackness across the ceiling. It made him wonder if they were truly alone—as in the only creatures dumb enough to be inside this place without a complete security team and portable lights.
He was sure if he told Watson to shine the beam up, he’d see creepy crawlers following them across t
he ceiling. Truth was, he wasn’t afraid of any man. But then again, he’d never faced one with all those hairy legs and enough venom to stop his heart.
The air and the activity in the shadows weren’t the only things igniting his senses. There was the smell, too. Overpowering. Pungent. Repulsive. Scab stink to be sure. Months of it, if he had to guess.
“You lived here? With them? On purpose?” Watson asked.
“Actually, they lived with me.”
Watson snorted. “Like that matters?”
“It does in my world,” Nomad said. “They needed a place to feel safe after I liberated them from captivity.”
“From the other Scabs,” Wicks said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“No, actually, from a man named Craven.”
“Never heard of him.”
“Your boss had.”
“Which one? Krista or Summer?”
“Neither. I’m talking about Edison.”
“Ah, you’re wrong there,” Wicks said as they completed the first flight of steps and angled right, moving into a towering chamber with two massive rock pillars on one side. “Edison never dealt with outsiders, which was part of the problem.”
“I’m afraid you have no idea what’s really going on out there, my scarred friend.”
“Yeah, you should talk, buddy. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
“Where do you think all the meat comes from?”
Wicks scoffed. “That’s easy. The small game they raise on Sublevel 8.”
Nomad laughed, but didn’t say anything.
“He thinks that’s funny, boss,” Watson said, his hand moving the flashlight to the left as the path changed again.
“Yeah, he’s a funny guy,” Wicks said, checking the placement of his feet as more downward steps came with a set of handrails, plus a few remnants of spent candles along the way.
Nomad stopped his feet for a moment as he asked, “Let me ask you this: How many people are in your complex?”
Wicks gave him a nudge forward. “That’s classified, asshole.”
Nomad continued his trek. “I get that, but would you say more than fifty?”
Silo Page 7