When Was? (Book 2): Who Are You Acquainted With?

by Krueger, Allison

  “Malignant. He would murder Morgan Williams with his bare hands if given the opportunity once more.”

  Upstairs.

  “Morgan?” a man screamed, dropping his gun and running over to him.

  “Quick,” Morgan mouthed at the man, holding onto his throat as the blood seeped through his fingers.

  “LYDIA! RANDY!” the man cried.

  Morgan continued trying crawl away.

  “Don’t worry, Boss. You’ll be okay!”

  The woods.

  “I can’t believe we left him!” Rachel cried as she and Janey darted through the trees.

  “He’s a fighter, he’ll be okay!”

  “He’s a fighter with one fucking arm!”

  Rachel stopped running and Janey accidentally pulled her to the ground. “Oh my god!”

  Wiping the dirt off her face, Rachel got up and cried. “Morgan’s gonna kill him!”

  “Are you kidding me, the man’s throat was slit. John might not be able to fight Morgan, but he wouldn’t have made it this far if he didn’t know how to protect himself! He said he’ll come back and he will, he’ll be safe and he’ll make it back.”

  Rachel wrapped her arms around her and sobbed.

  Janey stared at the Ohio base, watching for Acquainted as she comforted Rachel. “He’s gonna be okay...”

  Outside the Ohio Base.

  “Praise Maligna!” Dutch laughed as he walked from the base to see the Tribuals waiting for him in a large group, cheering, some wielding weapons.

  “Daddy,” his daughter Jessabelle yelled, running out from the crowd and jumping into his arms.

  “Oh my God, Jezzie Bell,” he cried, holding his daughter. Dutch looked back to Maligna. “Thank you, so much... I could die right now.”

  “Don’t say that, you very well could.”

  Dutch picked up his daughter and laughed. “You’re always so cheerful,” he said as his wife and son came walking out from the base, surrounded by a group of Malignites. He started crying harder and his smile grew wider. “Maligna, if the Tribual can do anything to repay-”

  “No.”

  Dutch laughed as his daughter wiped the tears from his face. “Daddy missed you so much, Jezzie.”

  He kissed her on the forehead as his son Jeremy walked over and nodded at him. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Dutch smiled. Crouching down he hugged his son. “Oh I’ve missed you two so much... Now if you’ll excuse me for a moment.

  Standing up, Dutch kissed his wife and turned to the crowd. “Predators... Hunters... Monsters... Just some of the names people have given the fighters of the Tribual,” he yelled to the cheering crowd. “Today, we claw our way back to the top of the food chain like apex predators we are! But we mustn't forget about our friends,” he said, looking back at Maligna. “The Malignites. If not for them, and my dear friend Maligna, none of this would be happening today. I wouldn’t have reunited with my family, and none of you would be breathing in this glorious fresh air!” He smiled and took a deep breath. “WILL WE LET THE ACQUAINTED GET AWAY WITH WHAT THEY’VE DONE TO US?”

  The crowd screamed no as Dutch glanced back at the Ohio base.

  “Today we go home, we reclaim the Tribual from whatever may be inhabiting it, and we recuperate from our time with the Acquainted! We are friends! We are family! We, are the apex predators! We are TRIBUALS! AND WE SUFFER NO MORE!”

  Later, the Ohio Base infirmary.

  Morgan opened his eyes and saw John sitting beside him, held at gunpoint by Davey and Gordon. “Why?” he mouthed.

  “I wanted to make sure you’d live. I didn’t wanna see what would happen if you didn’t.”

  Morgan winked and mouthed, “Fear.”

  John leaned back in his chair and sighed. “In a sense...”

  Morgan smiled.

  The doctor snapped his fingers in Morgan’s face, getting his attention. “We’re almost done, Boss,” he said in his German accent. “Lastly we have the injury to your arm, Lydia will tend to that.”

  Morgan grinned and put his eyes back on John. He licked his teeth and mouthed, “Rachel. Is. Fucked.”

  Chapter 16:

  A Month is a Year

  The First Day

  New Colombia, an empty trailer.

  The bedroom was lit by the rising sun, shining through the slits in the closed blind. In the center of the room was a twin sized bed, on one wall was a small closet, and in front of the window was a dresser where Rachel’s walkie talkie sat.

  They listened to the sound of John and Kesler snoring as they laid in the bed, staring at each other.

  “So? You think you’re ready?” Trinity asked.

  “I don’t know- the first time we tried we got Garry in trouble and...” She shook her head. “I really don’t know, Trin.”

  “Come on! Nobody knows we’re here, we’ll know when John and Kess get up, if they look for us...” She reached over and ran her hand down Rachel’s shivering arm.

  You killed Garry.

  “Rachel?”

  She shook her head and blinked. “What?”

  Trinity leaned in and kissed her. “Let’s do it.”

  Fine... “Sure.”

  As Trinity sat up and grabbed the bottom of her top, a loud pounding at the door woke her up.

  Rachel wore pajama pants, a white t-shirt, and slept in John’s brown jacket. She moved her bloodshot eyes to Billie and sighed. “Day one.”

  The pounding continued, making Rachel sit up and stretch.

  Billie opened her eyes and looked at her. “Good morning.”

  “Morning.”

  Getting up, she left the room, walked through the house, and answered the door.

  Standing in front of her was a crowd of Argentinians.

  “Where's John?” a woman asked.

  “What’s gonna happen to us?” a man hollered from the back.

  A child looked at her from the front of the crowd. “Is the bad guy coming back here?”

  Rachel’s eyes were wide as she scanned the large group in front of her. Her mouth gaped open but she was unable to speak.

  Walking out from the crowd, Janey took Rachel by the arm and walked her inside, closing the door behind them.

  She shook her head and looked at Janey. “Seriously?”

  “People are just worried right now, John’ll be back soon but until he is people’ll probably be comin’ to you.”

  “And what do I tell them?”

  “Well you killed Morgan, so... Tell them to train? I don’t know- I mean it’s not like they’d want to attack right away, right? They’d probably want us to think we won, or they’re making a plan...”

  “Janey- I- I just woke up! It’s literally been one fucking day! I-”

  “They’re scared. They’re worried about themselves, anout John... You’re his kid, people’ll expect you to be the one taking action. I can help you if you want-”

  Janey stopped as Rachel wrapped her arms around her and buried her face in her neck. “Where’s John?”

  She sighed and hugged Rachel. “Knowin’ him? The woods. Probably tryin’ to get home as we speak.”

  “God I hope so.”

  “So do I.”

  • • •

  John was on his knees, surrounded by a circle of Acquainted.

  To his right was Logan, Tom, Norman, Jamal, and Drew. To his left was Kesler, Carl, Rachel, Trinity, and Billie.

  Morgan walked out from the crowd with a grin. His pants and boots were covered in blood and what looked like pieces of flesh. His white shirt was now red. His leather jacket was open, and in his gloved hands, his black baseball bat full of nails.

  “I hope you’re ready to get fucked. Because you’re about to get so fucking fucked, that fucked fucks would laugh at just how fucked you’re about to be. Fuck yes they would!”

  John scowled. “Is that the only word you know? Did somebody fuck Dean? Your wife? They fucked ‘em in a bad way and that’s why that word means so much to you, huh?”
/>
  Walking up to John, Mogan laughed. “That’s cute.”

  John glared at him.

  “You know what else is cute?”

  Morgan swung his bat down, driving the nails through the top of his skull.

  John woke up, covered in piss and shit on the dirty cement floor of his cell. He was butt naked, curled up in a ball. The bars of his cell were rusted, some were covered in dried blood. The cell beside him was Norman’s, where he too laid naked in a mess of piss and shit.

  Outside his cell, Davey stared at him, holding an empty bucket.

  John got up. “Did you need somethin’?”

  He laughed, staring at John’s serious expression as the waste ran down his filthy scar covered body. “Morgan just wanted to give you a wakeup call.”

  He nodded as he wiped his face. “How is he?”

  “Good. I’ll tell him you asked, maybe he’ll let you have table scraps tonight.”

  John flashed a fake smile as he turned his head to Norman.

  Davey walked to Norman’s cell and unlocked the door. “Who are you Acquainted with, Norm?”

  Norman got up, holding his ribs and swaying back and forth. “Ain’t you people, that’s for damn sure!”

  Davey pulled out a pair of brass knuckles and sighed. “You always gotta do this?”

  Norman spit and cracked his knuckles. “Come on, Dave, I know you’re scared of me, this shit’ll be easier than Hershel.”

  “Hershel’s shot you up and beat the shit out of you!”

  “When he ain’t got the upper hand with a gun, he never walked.”

  Running in, Davey swung his fist, making Norman duck and drive his knee into Davey’s stomach. Norman punched him across the face and slammed his fist into Davey’s nose, knocking him flat on his ass. “YOU WANNA KEEP GOIN’?”

  Davey shook his head as he scooted back out of the cell and got up.

  Norman spit on him as he locked it up. “I thought you ran in a gang, the hell were you? ‘Cause you sure as hell’s never a fighter.”

  Davey wiped the blood from his face and glared at him. “Fuck you, when Morgan gets a load of this-”

  “DUMBASS! THIS IS PROBABLY WHY HE SENT YOU! HE WANTED YOU TO GET YOUR ASS KICKED, YOU PROBABLY DID SOMETHIN’ TO PISS 'EM OFF!”

  As Davey left, John looked to Norman and nodded. “Mornin’.”

  • • •

  The First Week

  His home in the wall was perfect. The main room was large, with a grey floor and dark grey walls. There was a kitchen in the back, a dark brown sofa in the front, and in the front of that was a small television sat atop a coffee table.

  Rachel saw Carver sitting at the table, smoking a cigar and looking at the back of a black CD case.

  “Hey,” she said, walking in and hanging her denim jacket on the back of a chair. “I finished my rounds,” she said, sitting her hat on the table.

  “Do like country music, Rachel?” he asked, taking a puff off his cigar.

  “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

  He nodded and showed her the CD. “I found this a while back, never heard of him before. The Black Eagle, Brian Kidd. Musician from Georgia.”

  “Is it any good?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been a long week, thought maybe I’d relax and give it a listen. Care to join me?”

  “Sure,” she said with a smile.

  Leaving the table, he went into the connected living room and turned on the CD player. “So your rounds, how is everyone?”

  “Jessica’s good. She still misses John a lot, but who doesn’t. And Mister Linton’s feeling good for a change, the back problems he’s been having seemed to go away!”

  Carver smiled as he put the CD in. “Well that’s good to hear.”

  He sat down on the couch and patted a spot beside him as the music began playing. “Come on over here and sit down. You deserve a break,” he said with a chuckle.

  “You really do, you’ve been working hard!” she said as she got up and joined him.

  Rachel opened her eyes and nodded. “A long week, you got that right,” she mumbled.

  Throwing the blanket off, she sat up. The wound on her back from Morgan’s bite now had a large dark scab.

  She swiped her shirt off the floor and slid it on. At least the Acquainted aren’t around. Getting up, she kissed Billie on the head and put her hat on.

  Walking out into the kitchen, she saw Janey sitting at the table, drinking a beer.

  “Wanna go for a walk?”

  She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “Is there a reason I should go on a walk?”

  “A few infected by the walls. Thought you could destress a bit,” she said with a laugh. “It’s gonna be fine. Even if John doesn’t come back for months, right now you’re just getting used to having all these responsibilities.”

  She pulled her revolver from the back of her pants and checked the ammo. “Let’s go.”

  “Did you sleep with that thing?”

  She nodded as Janey got up. “Yeah, why?”

  “Not afraid of wakin’ up one morning with a second asshole?”

  She shook her head and laughed. “That sounded like something John would say.”

  She smirked. “Or something I would say. Who do you think he got his sense of humor from?”

  Leaving the house, the two walked down the road, heading for the gate.

  “Ya know, if John-”

  “When.”

  Rachel nodded. “When John gets back. You two should start dating again.”

  She let out a laugh. “I don’t know, Rachel-”

  “Why not?”

  “John and I were-”

  “Are.”

  She smiled. “Yes. We’re just friends. Besides, I don’t even think he still sees me that way anymore.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Janey looked at her, confused. “Where’s this comin’ from?”

  “I just know I’d be lost without Billie right now. And if you guys ever get the chance again, you totally should.”

  • • •

  Running into Argentina, John bolted into the hospital and ran down the hall. Hurrying into the room, he witnessed the birth of his son, Carl.

  Tears ran down his face as Zander handed him the baby. “Carl?”

  Kesler smiled. “What should we name him?”

  John looked at her and the door swung open.

  “How about Morgan?”

  Turning around, John was cracked across the face with his bat, waking him up.

  Morgan stood outside his cell, tapping the bars with a plain baseball bat, as three other men stood behind him.

  John’s eyes were wide as he climbed up to his feet. “Morgan?”

  Unlocking the cell, Morgan walked in. His jacket was open, and underneath he wore the same blood-stained t-shirt he had on when Rachel slit his throat.

  “Good morni-”

  Morgan swung the bat into John’s waist, knocking him to the floor.

  He clenched his teeth and held his waist. “Dammit,” he muttered.

  “Good morning.” Morgan’s voice was quiet and raspy.

  John glared at him from the floor. “How’re you?”

  Morgan smirked. “Better than you’re about to be,” he told him before slamming the bat down on his head.

  John woke up a few minutes later and immediately had the bat driven into his stomach.

  “DAMMIT,” he yelled, curling up into a ball.

  “HEY!” Norman shouted, jumping up and running over to the wall of John’s cell. “How about bringin’ that bat in here, seein’ how long you last with me!”

  Morgan held his neck as he let out a soft laugh. “Fuck it, if that’s what you want.”

  As Morgan walked out of the cell, John got up. “Where’re you goin’? You ain’t done yet, are you?”

  Morgan tilted his head, lowering a brow and raising the other.

  “Come on, Morg. Beat me like you beat your wife and kid.”

 
; Morgan ran into the cell and swung, cracking John across the face with the bat.

  After Morgan and his men left, John and Norman sat against the wall, against the bars separating their cells.

  “What was that?” Norman asked, staring at John.

  “I wasn’t lettin’ you take it for me.”

  “You’re an idiot.”

  He smiled and rubbed his blood covered mouth. “Yeah, I’m a lot of things.”

  • • •

  The Second Week

  She laid at the bottom of a hill, blood oozed from the scrape on her arm and her bike laid in the bushes.

  “RACHEL,” John hollered.

  She got up and looked up to see John standing on the road. “JOHN!”

  “LOOK OUT, RUN!”

  Turning around, she watched an infected reach for her and fall on its face.

  John hurried down the steep hill as she ran.

  Looking for somewhere to hide, two more infected shuffled out from the trees.

  She reached behind her back for her pistol, and her eyebrows raised as she realized it must have fell out in the fall.

  Running further, she found an abandoned truck and climbed in the back for safety.

  “JOHN,” she yelled as he came running.

  Hurrying over to the truck, John swung his revolver into the back of an infected’s head.

  Spotting a rusty tire iron under some leaves, Rachel picked it up and walked it into the other infected’s mouth.

  “Be careful,” John told her as he beat the infected in the back of the head, sending Rachel’s tire iron through the back of its neck.

  After the corpse fell, John picked her up and helped her out of the truck. “Are you okay?” he asked, crouching down and checking her for cuts or bites.

  She nodded. “I only hurt my arm.”

  He tilted his head and let out a chuckle, looking at the tiny trickle of blood on her arm. “Still better than me. When I learned to ride I was crashin’ into everything.”

  Standing up, he playfully messed her hair. “Let’s grab your bike, come on, kiddo.”

  John reached out his hand, and before Rachel could grab it, she woke up from a commotion in the kitchen.

  “What’s wrong?” Janey asked from the other room as a man cried hysterically.