“What is it, Allen?”
“It’s all true, Syd.” He cocked an eyebrow, but she had no idea what he was talking about. “Landon Hughes.”
Sydney felt a frown form on her face, as memories of that man flashed through her thoughts. It made her feel like screaming. “What about him?”
“Our friend here was just telling me that Landon has been elected as our new president. Our president, Syd. Can you believe that?”
She was shocked but also confused. Surely this was just another one of the jester’s delusions. “What?”
“He ain’t lying,” Dale said.
Sydney didn’t know how to respond to such a wild statement.
“Want to know the worst part, Syd? He had the cure all along. Landon used it to obtain his notoriety.” Allen paced away, wringing his hands as if unsure what to do with them. He shoved them into his pant pockets. “He used it to steal the whole goddamn country right out from under us, Syd!”
“He— He…” She couldn’t find the words, stuck on wondering how any man could do something so horrible. “He poisoned the water and then cured it?”
She was still looking at Dale but saw a glimmer in the jester’s eyes. Like he remembered telling this all to Allen.
“That’s right,” Allen said. “I’m going to make him pay for this, Syd.” Allen’s anger showed on his face. “He has to pay for what he did to me, to us, to all these people. I have to make him pay.”
Dale stood and crossed to Allen. He put a hand on Allen’s shoulder. “I’m with you to the end on this, man. You can count on it.”
Allen nodded. He was a smart man and would have expected Dale’s support. Sydney, on the other hand, offered nothing. She couldn’t if she wanted to because all she felt was her stomach twisting in knots. What she wanted was to puke.
“No, Allen! You hear me?” She stomped her foot on the ground. “You’re not going to do anything. I finally got you back. No way you’re going to run off and… do what, Allen? What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“What will that prove?” The way she said this made it sound like she was begging. “Let’s just go.” She felt vulnerable. “Let’s leave this place and go someplace where Landon can’t get to us anymore.”
“Syd, you know they have every border secured at this point. No one goes out, no one comes in. Where are we going to go? How are we going to get there?” His face was red. “According to our friend here, the only place that isn’t under Landon’s control is the west. And every pack that survived the east will have infested the area. Out west is literally going to be hell on Earth.”
“They’ll just replace him, Allen. Don’t you see that? They’ll nominate another president, one with similar values. And that person will run things exactly like Landon did.” Now her face was flushing. “Another criminal in charge, more damn parties, and it will all start over.”
“Maybe so. At least I will have tried. How can I stand by and let you and Orson live in a land where a crook runs everything? I can’t do it, Syd. That man made me kill people. He’s an awful person, and he must pay for his crimes.”
Sydney glared at him but was at a loss for words. She wanted to tell him everything she felt, what she needed, what Orson needed, but nothing came. Her thoughts were but a twisted twine, and she needed time to unravel her feelings. She offered him one last look of disappointment and then left.
CHAPTER 57
Isaac knew there was a time for love and a time to die. He’d known that long before he met any of these people, having spent so much of his life chasing death. Now was his time to live. Isaac had seen his fair share of sorrow, things even the horrors out there now still didn’t compare to. He thought about his gang, a bunch of boys trying to act like men by taking what they wanted. How ironic it was for him to take things now without worrying about the cops.
Then why feel so much guiltier about it now?
If he could have cried, he would have done so by now. Thanks to his upbringing, how his dad whacked him upside his head anytime he came close to tears, he no longer thought he had it in him. But, if he ever would, it would be while thinking of those old days, about his gang, a bunch of kids who called themselves the Undead. In fact, most of those who had been in his gang were just that now, creatures running around in packs. He had watched a few of them change and had been the one to bring them the justice they deserved. Even when killing his gang members, he hadn’t faltered with his emotions. He was a rock, like it or not.
Truth told, he’d never known otherwise. On the streets, more often than not, it was kill or be killed. That was the lesson he had learned at around the same age of his new admirer, Orson. Why this kid didn’t appreciate his father was beyond Isaac. He could still recall watching his own father die, all that blood on his Isaac’s young hands. Even then he had been on the verge of tears yet his father stopped him.
If Isaac’s old man had died during some courageous act, maybe he would be proud of the man. But he had been running from a convenient store he had robbed moments earlier. The owner had shot Isaac’s dad down before he even reached the end of the parking lot, putting a hole the size of a baseball in his father’s belly.
Isaac remembered standing outside their car, his eyes going to the convenient store door when his father threw it open. His father’s eyes searching for Isaac and finding him. Isaac remembered the look of disappointment in his father’s eyes, the feeling of wishing he had listened to his father and stayed inside the car. If not for his father altering his path to get Isaac back in the car, his old man might have gotten away with it. Instead, the man fell at Isaac’s feet, with Isaac shoving his hands under his dad’s pits, trying to lug him to the car.
The old man tried to claw his way up into the seat several times but only failed. Succumbing to his wounds, his father had rolled over on his back, gasping without sound. Isaac recalled staring at the hole in his father’s stomach, seeing all the blood, his father’s hands stained with it. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes then, wanting to come. Each duct readied to spill over when his father’s dying breath came.
“Don’t you dare be weak, boy,” his father warned. “Don’t you dare.”
With those final words, his father exhaled a hiss of air. His chest rose, then fell. The man’s eyes rolled back in his head. All the while, Isaac’s eyes strained on that gaping hole, trying not to see it from the corner of his eyes, but witnessing everything.
Coming out of the memory, Isaac looked at Orson. The boy smiled. It was a good thing that this boy could show those emotions Isaac couldn’t after all they’d been though. Before this was over, Orson would likely see the worst of it. Part of Isaac envied the boy for his ability to react to these things. He was better off for it; of that Isaac was sure.
With that thought, Isaac considered all the things he’d missed out on. He let it all sink in; how he’d misused his time as a thug, how he was still wasting what little time he had left.
Orson’s smile grew. In that moment, feeling what he did, Isaac did something. He smiled back. It felt so genuine and with it came the urge to cry. He didn’t, of course, but he felt that sting in his eyes right before he pushed the emotion down. That was enough.
The moment came and went as Isaac spotted Woodlawn Mall in the distance. He pretended like he was getting tired so he could wipe the tear away without anyone noticing. Then he became aware of the activity surrounding them. At least a dozen armor-suited men flanked the dragon and escorted their vehicle in.
Up ahead, a wall of infantry readied to receive them. A single spotlight lit the dragon, tracking their progress. One way or another, they were in this for good now.
CHAPTER 58
Allen realized upon seeing the troops that they hadn’t thought this out enough. Whoever this was, they had seemingly sent nearly their entire corps to usher the dragon in. This was an unexpected reception, not that—once he thought about it—the nature of their sudden appearance didn’
t necessitate such a welcome. Allen should have seen this coming. He could have considered their numbers at the very least, and maybe doing that might have prevented any possible danger. As it was, he had a bunch of wild cards in Dale and the jester, maybe even a few others.
Allen spoke in a low tone as they readied to exit the dragon. “No matter what happens next, try to stay together.” He patted the air. “Stay together.”
Sydney nodded and pulled Orson in close.
Dale dragged a bound jester to them, who smiled brightly.
“They will likely try to split us up,” Allen said. “We should avoid this if…” He stared into the jester’s eyes. Something about the man looked different. The madness appeared to have shifted from abnormal to something more real. “Let him go.”
This might be our best opportunity.
Dale shook his head and gave Allen a confused look. Allen knew why too, because Dale likely thought him a nut job to trust letting this man loose.
“Do it, Dale,” Allen said. “Trust me on this.”
Dale pulled a knife from his pocket and flung it open. He held the blade to restraints, appearing unsure of whether to proceed or not. He waited until Allen nodded, then brought the blade up against the binding, cutting it sharply with a snap.
“What is it?” Dale asked.
“I’m not sure. A hunch,” Allen said.
The bus came to a grinding halt at the gate, where the soldiers swarmed them. One by one, they exited the dragon and were searched for weapons and stripped of any they found.
“Lieutenant?” a man asked.
“What are you men doing?” barked the jester. Though the visual of a soldier dressed in red tights with bells on his hat yelling at them looked crazy, they would listen to and obey his orders for fear of reprimand. “Here I am with my crew, and this is how you treat them?”
“We thought you were…gone.” The soldier’s voice trailed off. “Why are you dressed like that?”
“Like what, Private?” the jester asked.
The soldier trembled, as if realizing he shouldn’t have questioned a superior. But seeing that opened a door for Allen, who sidled up beside the private and leaned in close, waiting for the jester to walk out of hearing distance. “He’s been like this for some time now. We think something bad happened to him.”
“And you are?” The private spoke as if shocked by Allen’s words, looking unsure of himself.
Allen pulled down his coat lapel and sweatshirt to reveal the emblem on his undershirt.
“I see, Sir,” the private said, his concern obvious. “Sorry, Sir.”
“No worries, Private. We have some civilians with us.” In truth, Allen thought this would likely be the safest place for some of them, if they chose to stay. “We require rest and supplies before we move on to our outpost.”
“Anything you need, Sir.” He paused, displaying his uncertainty despite rank. “Of course—”
“What is it?” Allen asked.
“You’ll need to be debriefed, Sir.”
This was something Allen had anticipated but wasn’t prepared for…yet. He had no idea what he could say, but he’d think of something. They would want his rank and serial number at the very least. If Allen gave up that information, they might learn the truth. That would put them all in danger.
“I would expect no less,” Allen said.
Allen turned to his wife. She smiled, awkwardly. He reminded himself that this was the safest place they knew of, absent of the undead and rival parties. Then again, time had a way of proving Allen to be wrong, and he’d seen good men abuse the very power they had obtained. Grave concern fell over Allen as he and his group followed a soldier to the bunkers.
CHAPTER 59
“Lieutenant?” the Colonel asked.
“Yes, sir?”
“I asked you a question.”
Eddie thought the man looked kind of funny, like how his little mustache turned up at the ends. “And what was that, Sir?”
“Why are you dressed like that?”
Eddie looked into the Colonel’s eyes and wondered why he should ask such a question. “Isn’t it obvious?”
The Colonel’s eyes thinned on him and his tone grew louder. “God damn it! Get it together, son! Why are you dressed like that, prancing around here like you’ve lost your marbles?”
“Sir, you have no idea—”
“You are correct. I have no idea!” The Colonel stormed away from Eddie’s friend, then back to him. “I’d ask you, but I don’t even know who you are or why you’re here.” His brows angled. “Now, do you two want to start answering my questions or should I—”
“We serve the king, oh mighty knight,” Eddie said, though he had no idea why.
The little place where the Colonel’s eyebrows met, turned up, his brows arched in half-circles above widening eyes. “You— Say what?”
Allen said, “He thinks—”
The Colonel drew his gun and pointed it at Allen’s head. “You keep your mouth shut.”
In Eddie’s mind, he saw something familiar on Allen’s face, the same expression all those civilians had worn before Eddie wasted them with fire. In his memories, he could see their skin melting away from the muscle. The muscle searing in the white heat of flame until it charred. The living falling dead, one by one.
Eddie leaped out of his chair. When he did, the Colonel spun to aim the gun at him, but Eddie caught the weapon in both hands and pried it away. Once loose, Eddie juggled the gun until he got ahold of it.
“Why’d you do it?” Eddie no longer felt funny. “Why did you make me—” He aimed the gun at the man’s head. “Why did I have to kill them?”
Something hot stung at Eddie’s cheeks. The Colonel stood uneasy, looking as though he was going to lunge for Eddie. Eddie wiped tears away, jutting the gun out at the Colonel when the man flinched. Behind him, he heard a rush of activity, footsteps pouring into the room. Before they could subdue Eddie, he needed to repay the Colonel for what he had let happen. Eddie lifted the gun and took aim. He pulled the trigger right as the gun was knocked free of his grip. They tackled him to the ground. No matter what came of this, pain or otherwise, his gaze did not leave the Colonel.
There was a hole in the Colonel’s forehead, closing the small gap between the man’s brows. The Colonel dropped to his knees, then flat to the floor. With one good swipe from a soldier’s Billy club, darkness swallowed up Eddie.
CHAPTER 60
They led Allen and the others right to their quarters. Allen felt they were lucky to have not been split up, which was likely in part to them thinking he wasn’t a civilian. These men trusted him, and since his interrogation was interrupted with the Colonel being shot dead, he was able to roam among them freely.
While Allen didn’t care about the Colonel, he worried about the jester. Some ghost from that man’s past was haunting the jester, and he’d acted upon it with the Colonel. Allen wondered if he might do the same upon seeing Landon. Part of him hoped so, but another, more dismal part considered his son and thought better of doing anything like that.
Orson glanced at Allen. The kid’s disappointment showed on his face, and he mostly hung out with Isaac. Orson got along well with Isaac, and Allen didn’t blame him. Isaac was exactly the sort of man Allen would have looked up to at that age. Whatever the case, he needed to try harder to mend their relationship and that likely only made it more difficult.
Allen approached them, but Syd stopped him. Or maybe she was just offering some support. Either way, he didn’t stop, and when he got there, Orson stared at him with contempt. That look was nearly unmatched by any man Allen had killed in battle.
“Listen,” Allen said, glancing to Isaac before kneeling to look Orson straight in the eyes. “I’m not trying to be your dad.”
“Well, that’s good. Because you’re not.”
Allen recoiled. Behind him, he heard Syd moving in, ready to intervene.
“I’ll be happy just to be your friend,” Alle
n said.
“Can never have too many friends in this world,” Isaac said. Orson looked at them both, the doubt showing in his eyes. “You know, I never got to know my own father much. Suppose I wouldn’t have minded an opportunity. Aren’t so many chances in this life, so that never happened.”
“What?” Orson asked.
“My father. I never knew the man.” Isaac kneeled too. “He was shot down after robbing a convenient store.” Orson’s eyes gleamed with childhood interest. “He died right in front of me, before I ever got the chance. But I’ll tell you what—” Isaac grinned. “I’d give anything to have him as a friend right now.”
Orson looked at Isaac, wavering in uncertainty. He was a smart kid and likely knew Isaac had spoken the entire truth. There was a lot more to that story Isaac likely didn’t want to talk about. Allen hoped for the best but expected nothing.
All Orson did was nod. Then he walked away.
Allen couldn’t complain, as that was something.
Isaac smirked at Allen.
Behind him, Syd sank into his back, bending her face to his neck and kissing him. It felt good to have some semblance of his family back. It was overwhelming, and while he wasn’t crying on the outside, there were plenty of tears on the inside.
CHAPTER 61
Dale watched as two men strode in with a large cooler and sat it at the dinner counter. This marked the third such cooler, and that made Dale a little curious as to what was inside. He could use a beer to quench his thirst.
“Compliments of our friends in the south,” one of the two men said.
Looking around, Dale believed many of these civilians likely felt the same way he did about these coolers, a bit cheated as they likely contained the best treats. Behind counters crafted out of overturned shelving and whatever else they could find, commoners worked hard to prepare a meal. Some of those people, Sydney had recognized, but they didn’t dare reveal that to anyone. There was an unspoken knowledge between Dale’s group and those people, as keeping this secret might prove important down the road.
Pack Animals [An Undead Post-Apocalypse Thriller] Page 17