Almawt Virus Series (Book 3): Days Since...Jenny [Day 986]

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Almawt Virus Series (Book 3): Days Since...Jenny [Day 986] Page 10

by Wilson, Robert


  “Then how’d they take over?”

  “It was later when Larry left us to try and find his wife. Then… It was like they knew he’d left, because as soon as he was gone, the Second Alliance began attacking us. But—but not like you’d think. We didn’t know it was them. They made it seem like random people, bandits, whatever you want to call it, but our council felt they had no other choice, so…” Jenny closed her eyes. “They agreed to what the S.A. wanted. We fell for it. Just like Griffin did.”

  “We don’t know that he agreed to anything yet.”

  “I do! Griffin wants power, and the S.A. has it. Plenty of it. They make you think you’re equals, but bit by bit they take complete control. You don’t even realize it’s happening. A few people here and there. Before you know it, everything is theirs. Even…” She choked back the tears. Danny gripped her shoulders, without a doubt realizing the sincerity in her story. “My friend—My friend found out the truth and they—they killed him. Threw him from the scaffolding with a rope around his neck.” Jenny collapsed into Danny’s arms, sobbing, letting everything go, releasing all her hidden pain from where she’d kept it locked away. Now Danny knew. The three from River’s Edge weren’t fugitives but refugees.

  “It’s okay.” Danny clutched her tighter into his chest. “It’s okay. I’ll get this sorted out with Griffin. Trust me.”

  Pulling her head from his chest, Jenny scoffed. “Griffin? Really? He’s gonna make it all better?” She pushed him, forcing angry, hysterical outbursts of laughter through her sobbing. “They’ve probably promised Griffin all sorts of nonsense to band together. There’s no way he’s gonna give that up. Not a chance! He’s a power-hungry asshole!”

  “What’s your deal with him? Griffin’s on our side. He’s one of the good guys. Look at what he’s done for you. For Matt. For Grant. He took you guys in with open arms even with your guys’ bullshit story.”

  “Open arms? Ha! Oh, Griffin, my savior!” She gasped for air between sobs. “You’re so fucking blind, Danny. You’ve never noticed how he makes me feel? How I don’t ever want to be around him?”

  “I mean, maybe, but you don’t see him that much.”

  “That’s how I want it. You just don’t get it. I don’t want him around me because he’s a monster. This—this monster, he raped me, Danny! Took me. Held me down. Threatened my life. Grant’s and Matt’s too if I told anyone. And that’s your friend. That’s who you trust to make it all better. But I don’t!”

  Danny looked away.

  “You want to know something else? This baby. It isn’t Matt’s. It’s Griffin’s.”

  Danny pressed his palms into his eye sockets. “You’re too much.”

  “Too much? Too much for who? You, Danny? Fuck you!” she screamed. “Fuck you!” In a rage, Jenny lunged forward and started beating on his chest uncontrollably until another round of fatigue set in. She collapsed, hands and knees into the snow, weeping. Sherman began nuzzling her face. “I can’t do this anymore,” she groaned. “I can’t keep all this bottled up. It’s too much.”

  “How do I know…” He bent down, pushing Sherman away. “Do you have—” Danny stammered through his words. “any—any. Is there any proof? Any at all?”

  “Of the Second Alliance, yes,” she sobbed. “With Griffin… I wanted to tell you sooner. But I couldn’t. Griffin would have...”

  “I believe you. I do.” He lifted her chin. She offered a weak smile. “Please, Jenny. Show me everything you have.” His eyes were glassy. The usual tough-guy demeanor had softened. “I’m listening. Tell me everything.” Danny untied the kerchief around his neck and dabbed her tears away before helping her back to her feet. “I’m listening now.”

  “I need you to believe me. I need help with Griffin.”

  “I will.” Danny smiled. “We’ll sort all this out, starting with the Second Alliance. That’ll have to be dealt with first. If what you said is true—”

  “It is!”

  “I know, but I’ll need time to convince Griffin.”

  “Griffin.” Jenny kicked at the snow.

  “He’s still in charge. You know I can’t change that. And… I’m sorry if this sounds shitty, but”—He licked across his lips—“I can’t help what happened to you in the past. I’m sorry it happened, believe me, I am, and I’ll do what I can to make it better. If that’s even possible. But first we have to make sure Griffin doesn’t agree to anything with these guys. Gimme a chance to deal with that, then I’ll confront him about... about the other stuff. Deal?”

  “Okay…” Not like I really have a choice.

  Every step toward the Depot felt like an unprepared march toward the enemy. No plan existed. The men in black were Almawt animated in human form. A second plague among the survivors. An infection with no known cure. Underneath any facade they’d put forward, Jenny knew it wouldn’t be the truth. The truth was contained in Haverty’s letter, in Simon’s journal.

  …

  “Just a second.” Jenny reached toward the far side of her bed, feeling for the hidden slit she had sewn into the cushion. Carefully, she took Simon’s journal and the letter Haverty had written from inside. “This is what I have. What my friend found and left for us.” Danny appeared unsure as he took them from her and sat down on the metal folding chair. “You should read the letter first then the journal. It’ll make more sense that way.”

  Danny nodded and set the journal on the bedside table, taking a moment to adjust Jenny’s lantern for more light. He pulled the letter from inside the envelope. Something small fell to the nylon floor of the tent. “What’s this?” He pinched it from the ground. “Some wax?”

  “Look closer.”

  He held it near the lantern. “What’s the ‘H’ for?”

  “For Haverty. He’s the one that wrote the letter.”

  “Sealing the envelope with a wax seal, huh? Who the hell is this guy?”

  “For sure one of their leaders. He was put in charge of my old town when they took over. Other than that, I really don’t know much about him. I have no idea how close to the top he is, but he’s someone important. He’s the…” She swallowed hard. “He’s the one who…”

  “You don’t have to say it.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She nodded and lay back on her bed, keeping her eyes on Danny while he unfolded the letter. “Typed?” he said, sounding somewhat impressed.

  Patiently, Jenny looked on as he sorted through the details. Each expression that flashed across his face left little doubt to which part he was reading. She had consumed this truth several times, knowing every line, every word.

  If this doesn’t convince you, I don’t know what will. All the Depot’s hard work. Everything you guys have done to put this place together will be gone. Forever changed. We have to get the S.A. out of here, then Griffin. I don’t know what you have planned for him, but whatever it is... It better be good. If not, me, Matt, and Grant are dead.

  When he finished the letter, Danny folded it up and slid it back inside the envelope. Without saying anything, he bit into his bottom lip, thinking, eyes closed. Jenny wished she had the patience to let him digest all of it on his own, but her anxiety, her passion took hold of her. His opinion mattered—it would be what pushed this forward. She sat up. “It’s crazy, right?!” Her outburst broke Danny’s chain of thought. “All of it’s true,” she continued. “After I read it, all the attacks made sense, everything that followed after Larry turned the Second Alliance away made sense. That letter was just the missing piece to the puzzle.”

  “It’s a lot…” He smothered his face with both hands. A muffled groan. “So, what is this?” He lifted the journal from the side table, flicking through the pages. The amount of entries seemed to overwhelm him. “You don’t think the letter’s enough? That thing’s pretty damning.”

  “The journal helps give the full picture.” Jenny took it from him. Entry 664. Nearly the last one. “Here. Look. It’s about the Second Alliance. At least read that one. It’ll give y
ou another perspective. Someone else that was attacked by them.”

  “I’m not trying to be a dick, but can’t you just kinda summarize it for me?”

  “Sure, yeah, that’s fine. It’s just about this guy hunting and instead of the S.A. going for the deer he shot, they went for him. Didn’t care about the meat. They chased the guy down and shot him. The journal never tells why they did. Maybe for fun. I don’t know.” She took a deep breath. “But, Danny, you have to see what’s going on. It’s a pattern. In our town, they killed another guy for just speaking out against them. And you know what they did to my friend… The Depot is next.”

  “I believe you.” He examined the envelope with Haverty’s letter again. “I—I’ll have to show this to Griffin. He’ll—”

  “No... Danny... You can’t show him this stuff.” Frantically, she took the envelope and journal and stuffed them away. “It’s the only proof. Written by one of their own. If he takes it, there’s no proof, and my friend’s death would be for nothing. It was the last thing Xavier did. He made sure we’d find this.”

  “How’d he get it?”

  “I don’t know, but the S.A. wants it or me or both. Who the hell knows? Probably, all three of us for knowing about the letter. They gotta still be looking. That night we left they sent an entire squad out for us. Tracked us for days. We were—”

  “How the hell do I do this?” he interrupted her, pushing the folding chair away from him as he stood. His words began to fade into thought, his hands rubbing up and down his face. It appeared he was sorting through a plan, or at least Jenny hoped. She sat there, waiting, her ears trying to pick up on any words that might slip from his mouth.

  Danny’s got to do the right thing. There’s nothing else he can do. If he truly loves this place, he has to make a stand. They can’t make the same mistake as River’s Edge. Shit, who knows how many have fallen for this before or how many people have lost their lives because of the S.A.’s lying. It’s all too—

  “I’ll talk to him.” He stopped and turned to Jenny. “I’ll tell him what you said but won’t mention what you have. Okay?”

  “What exactly are you going to—”

  “Damn it!” He slammed his fist into his palm. “Matt and Grant… We should’ve thought of this before. They’re not safe. Gotta find them before they do.” He retrieved a knife from his web belt and placed it in her hand.

  “A knife?” Her eyebrows folded inward with disbelief. “I knew we shouldn’t have checked my guns in. You know the S.A. guys probably have two guns each.”

  “With only four of their men here, they won’t do anything stupid. And you know I couldn’t let you keep a gun. One of our guards sees you creeping around with one, you’ll never get a chance to find Matt and Grant. You’d have a whole ‘nother level of shit to worry about.”

  “Wait, you aren’t coming with me?”

  “No, Jenny. I gotta get to Griffin before they… Shit, I don’t know, make a decision on something. But you need to focus on finding your friends. I’m serious. Be careful.”

  “Right...” She started the knife toward her cargo pocket, but Danny stopped her, taking it blade-side up and into the sleeve of her coat, handle within her palm.

  “Like that. Hidden but accessible.”

  She nodded.

  “Hurry!” Go!”

  With no time to think, no time to let the doubt creep in, Jenny practically ripped the zipper from the tent’s door to exit. She needed to calm herself but couldn’t. Her heart raced. Her breaths were no better. A sense of dread seeped into her gut. With how things had ended with the Second Alliance before, she already assumed her search to be worthless. That perhaps they’d already been captured, killed, whatever doomed possibility her mind could conceive. Stop it, Jenny. Try and stay positive. You have to find them. At some point, this has to turn around for us. This can’t be our life. Today it changes.

  Through the dim light of the Cave, she hurried toward Matt’s tent. Please be there. She listened before crossing each aisle, took a swift eye to each tent lined up, to the nooks where enemies could be lurking. But there was nothing. No one around. Maybe it was better that way. Easier to move and with the knife stuffed into her sleeve, the last thing she needed was to be startled.

  At Matt’s tent, she discovered only darkness. No shadows inside. No sound. She playfully scratched on the nylon wall and whispered, “Matt.” But no response. Just to be sure, Jenny rolled the door’s zipper enough for a peek. An empty bed. She moved on to Grant’s and found the same. The Cave was clear, not just of Matt and Grant, but everyone it seemed. Damn. Have they already started rounding everyone up? No, Danny’s right. Not with only four of them.

  Pulling the tarp from the Cave’s entrance, she took a few furtive glances, keeping her body out of sight. She caught a glimpse of Danny rounding the far corner back toward the private quarters but no one else. Where is everyone? Nervous to what awaited her beyond the entryway, she squeezed the handle of the knife within her palm. “It’s there if you need it,” she whispered to herself, then crept toward the Garden Center, careful, vigilant.

  Before stepping outside, she peered through the glass doors. No S.A. That’s good enough for me. She drew the door wide. The buzz of conversation swept toward her with the wind. A circle of people gathered around the burn barrel—some of them in the same seats as earlier in the day. One man stood toward the middle, as if on a swivel, addressing questions that poured in from all sides.

  From afar, Jenny worked around the crowd in an attempt to spot her friends. Unfortunately, with everyone bundled up in their winter garb of muted colors, identifying anyone at all became tedious. She considered asking but thought better of it—no telling if instructions had been given to report them if seen. But so far, no one gave her a second glance. Everyone seemed to consider her presence there nothing but ordinary. Maybe someone knows something. She moved closer.

  “What do you think they want?” an older woman asked in between mouthfuls of the leftover stew.

  “Not a fight I hope,” another woman added.

  “Why would you instantly go to that?”

  “That isn’t what they want,” Lars said. “Why would Griffin bring them here if that was the case? He’s a lot of things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

  “All’s I know is nobody’s gonna wanna tangle with that big one. Guy was huge. Too huge.”

  “You’re always talking about how huge people are,” the older woman snapped. “Get over it.”

  Again, the feeling of dread knotted Jenny’s stomach—her search rapidly spiraling toward failure. Without wasting another minute, she slipped away from the group and back inside the Depot. She took to the perimeter aisles. Every single one clear. Only one place left. But the thought of revisiting the storage area, the offices where Griffin laid his head, where the man had defiled her not so long ago, sickened her inside. She never wanted to be there again, but there was nowhere else to look. This is it.

  She eased herself through the flimsy, double doors into the back, taking the extra time to guide them back in place. The last thing she needed was the loud thwump of them rubbing against each other to give her away. Left or right? She bent her eyes down each end of the corridor—both sides the same. Pallets of canned food, water. Boxes stacked to the ceiling, jam-packed. Barely enough space for two people to pass by each other.

  She decided to go right, creeping between pallets, dipping in and out of their gaps—a game of mad dashes from one stack of boxes to the next. Then voices came from behind her. She squeezed behind one of the stacks, pressing her back to the wall. A nervous sweat began to crawl across her skin. Don’t pay any attention to me. Just go!

  “So, the two are definitely coming with us?”

  “That’s what Thomas said.”

  “Do they have the girl here?”

  “Sounds like it, but they aren’t giving her up yet.”

  “Two out of three isn’t bad. Haverty can’t be mad at that, right?”
r />   “Depends on his mood.”

  Their voices passed, and the sound of the doors at the far end of the corridor—thwump, thwump—brushing against each other came and went. Matt and Grant are back here. I knew it. She inched her way into the open. All clear. Four offices on this side and three back on the other end. She peered through the window of the first two doors she came to. One was Danny’s bedroom, the other belonged to Griffin.

  Thwump, thwump. The sound nearly stopped her heart. Someone was coming. Terrified, she scrambled to the next door, glancing through the window before she tried the handle. Inside, gagged and bound to chairs, were Matt and Grant. Their eyes went wide, and Matt tried to scoot his chair toward the door. Jenny grasped its handle, but it didn’t budge. “Shit!” She scanned the hall. Still clear, but the footsteps were closing in. Locking eyes with Matt’s, she mouthed, “I’ll be back with Danny,” and turned to leave.

  “I wouldn’t worry about them,” a Second Alliance Guard said.

  “What are you doing with them?”

  “Doesn’t matter.” He strolled toward her with an awkward smile, but Jenny knew better. She backpedaled, then spun away. He forced his steps, now thundering after her. “Come here!”

  A scream slipped from her mouth, and she ran toward the opposite end of the hall. “Danny!” she shouted. “Danny!” The Guard fell behind, giving her brief moments to check the remaining rooms as she passed. All empty. The last one was the main office. Within feet of the room, the door swung open, and the iron man stepped out. Jenny pounded to a stop, now cornered. The Soldier here, the Guard behind.

  “Jenny, right?” The Soldier snatched her by the arm. She squirmed, trying to break free. “Relax. We’re not here to hurt you.”

  “Then let me go,” she begged. “Why are you here?” She tried to keep him distracted, working to clear the blade from inside her sleeve. She spit in his face.

  “You little bitch!” He reached to wipe it.

  Jenny took the opportunity, plunging the knife toward his ribs, but the Soldier dropped his arm. A stiff grunt, the blade slicing across his forearm. He threw her to the ground. The blade clattered across the floor, spinning off beyond her reach. Jenny clambered for the knife, but the Guard took hold of her, pinning her to the ground. The Soldier drew back his sleeve and looked over the wound—it barely penetrated the thick uniform sleeve—leaving only a thin red line across his forearm. Barely a trickle of blood.

 

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