by Brant, Jason
The radio inside the truck chirped.
Only this time, it was a woman’s voice. “Dumbass?”
Brandon snapped out of it, turning his attention back to the truck. “Did someone just ask for a dumbass?”
Eifort and Lance shared a shocked glance before Lance tore the microphone off the cradle on the dash and held it up to his mouth. “Sassy Cassie?”
“I’m going to kick your butt for that, dumbass. Someone here thinks you stole a truck with a couple of morons in it. Did you?”
Brandon watched the excitement break out across Eifort and Lance’s faces. They both sat up straighter, their attention fixed on the radio. Brandon assumed Cass was one of their friends, maybe even Lance’s wife.
She sounded kind of mean.
Lance was about to respond when Eifort put her hand on his forearm, stopping him. “What if they’re using her to reach out to us?”
“She wouldn’t do that,” he said.
“She might if they’re threatening Lincoln.”
Lance frowned, raised the mic again. “How’s Dragon doing?”
“If you call him that one more time—”
“I think we’re okay,” Lance said. “She wouldn’t blow a gasket over that if someone had a gun to his head.” He radioed out again. “Ease down, Sassy. Are you alone?”
“You’re so dead. And no, I’ve got one of the guards who helped me escape here and a girl named Charlie. Why?”
Lance recoiled in his seat at the mention of escape.
Brandon nearly fell over backward when he heard the woman say Charlie’s name. “What did she say?”
He jumped at the window, trying to wrestle the radio from Lance’s grip.
“Damn it, kid. Let me handle this.” Lance wrenched it away from Brandon’s frantic hands. “Did you say a guard helped you escape?”
“We don’t have time for this right now, dumbass. Shut up and listen to me. Lincoln, Finn, Emmett, and everyone else are already in a car heading for Baltimore. There’s supposedly a building down in the city that will keep us safe, and we’re going to meet them there. The problem is that three of us are stranded in the reservoir, and there are a few dozen Vladdies running around the shore. We need a pickup right now.”
Brandon leaned so close to Lance he could smell his breath. It wasn’t pleasant. He wanted to holler Charlie’s name as Lance responded, hoping she would hear him and shout back. If the woman on the radio had his Charlie, then, well, he didn’t even know what he would do.
Jump in the air and click his heels together, maybe.
Perhaps a backflip.
Eifort and Lance continued to stare at the radio in disbelief.
“Did he say Charlie?” Brandon asked. “My Charlie?”
Lance ignored him. “We’re on our way. Don’t hit the shore until we get there.”
“No shit. Be careful.”
“You too.” Lance tossed the radio into the window. When he saw how close Brandon stood to him, he motioned him away with a shooing gesture. “Out of the way, kid!”
Brandon stepped back, rocked up and down on his toes. “What are we doing?”
“Cutting these guys loose and then driving like the devil is on our heels to the water.” Lance hopped into the bed. He pulled a knife from his back pocket, then knelt beside the driver. “I’m going to cut your legs free. If you try anything, I’ll stab all three of you and leave you to the vampires. Got it?”
As if on cue, the wails of demons came from somewhere to the north. They weren’t far away. Brandon shuddered at the sound, dreading the drive back to The Light knowing the demons could prowl the streets during the daylight now.
The driver lifted his head away from the floor of the truck bed. “Vampires? What?”
“The fucking demons or whatever you call them.” Lance let his head lull in exasperation. “Why is everyone so pedantic about what they call the infected?”
“But they’re demons, not—”
“Shut up, you moron.” Eifort moved beside the tailgate of the truck. “We’re freeing you… and you’re arguing about what to call the monsters!”
Brandon hadn’t even noticed her getting out from behind the wheel.
Greg remained in the backseat, his head held low. He hadn’t said or done anything since the woman had radioed them. Everyone else had nearly crapped themselves in excitement, but Greg had sat in sullen silence.
The driver mumbled, “Sorry. We won’t try anything.”
While Lance cut the men’s legs free, Eifort opened the tailgate and stepped aside, aiming her pistol at the driver. Brandon stood beside the bed, dumbfounded at how quickly everything had changed. He’d gone from dreading their stupid plan to thinking Charlie had managed to escape and was waiting for them to pick her up.
His brain struggled to process everything.
Lance grabbed the men one at a time by their arms. Hauled them to their feet. “Get out of here. Tell your boss we showed you mercy.”
“Yes, sir.” Fabio-Light jumped from the tailgate, making sure to give Eifort a wide berth.
When all three had cleared the truck, Eifort motioned for them to take off.
They didn’t hesitate.
As the men fled up the middle of an empty road toward their camp, Brandon hopped into the front passenger seat while Eifort slid in behind the wheel again. Lance stayed in the bed, leaning his head into the rear window. “Greg, I need you to open both back doors and then slide to the middle when we stop. As soon as they’re in, punch it, Eifort.”
“What about you?” Brandon asked.
“I’ll be fine back here until we get down the road a piece. I want to give them covering fire if they need it.”
“How am I going to tell Lilith what happened to Adam?” Greg finally raised his head from his staring contest with the floor. “How can I look her in the eyes after what I did?”
“You saved him a lot of suffering,” Lance said. “Lilith won’t blame you for anything.”
Greg didn’t appear convinced.
Most of the color had drained from his cheeks.
He resumed his inspection of the floor.
Brandon placed a hand against the dash as Eifort pushed the truck’s engine hard. They’d acquired a feel for the area a bit as they’d driven closer, listening to the driver’s directions. Brandon had kept an eye on the map, too, memorizing some of the roads in case they had to make a quick getaway.
That turned out to be a good decision.
The men had given them an overview of the layout of the base, to a certain degree, explaining that water kept them safe on several sides.
Brandon’s map confirmed that description.
Even though the truck’s engine roared as Eifort pushed it hard, they could hear the cries of the demons drawing closer. If so many managed to get outside during the daylight, how many would be coming for them at nightfall?
A long time had passed since Brandon had noticed so many demons descending on one place. When cities had fallen, the demons swarmed over everything like a plague of locusts, consuming everything in sight.
Since then, their tidal waves of death had receded. Much like the remaining human population, the infected had segregated into separate groups, each seeming to operate independently of one another. The nests had formed around the countryside like their own kind of underground cities.
Recent attacks on The Light usually consisted of ten or twenty demons probing the building for weaknesses. Rarely did they see large packs outside of the nests. Brandon wondered if what they’d done the night before with the demons and that weird sex cult had stirred the pot. The beasts might be out for revenge.
Or maybe this was just how the nests up here were. Maybe they were more agitated than the ones in and around Baltimore. Brandon really had no idea since he’d rarely left the city over the past year or two.
Eifort guided them down a long stretch of road before hanging a hard left, driving over the shoulder and partially into a field to avoid a sm
all roadblock of old cars. She didn’t slow down much. The drainage ditch between the road and the field jostled them around enough that Brandon had to grab the handle on his door.
“You trying to throw me off the back of this thing?” Lance called from the bed. “I don’t have much to hold onto back here.”
Eifort didn’t respond, only pressed the truck faster.
The sun continued its descent.
Brandon glanced at the red sky, hoping they would have enough time to get home before darkness fully set in. Driving through the city at night was asking for trouble. So many abandoned vehicles filled the streets they couldn’t drive more than fifteen or twenty miles an hour. He’d seen demons move much faster than that.
They blew through an intersection, then across a small parking lot with a sign that read Canoe Rentals Here. Their tires kicked up shale and dust, partially engulfing Lance. In his mirror, Brandon watched as Lance held onto the side of the truck for dear life, squinting against the dust swirling around him.
Through the cloud trailing them, Brandon thought he spotted movement in the distance. He leaned forward, getting closer to the mirror. At first, he couldn’t make out anything other than the dust swirling through the air.
But then he saw fur-covered legs running across the parking lot.
Demons raced after them, their hide-constructed sun block covering their muscled bodies. They shrieked in rage and excitement as they followed the speeding truck.
“We’ve got company,” Brandon said. “At least ten or fifteen are following us.”
Lance craned his head to see over his shoulder. “I got ‘em. Kid, when we stop, you need to open fire on those bastards.”
“You got it.” Brandon gulped. Why did every plan they came up with involve him shooting at something? Eventually, they would learn he couldn’t be relied on to fire with any kind of accuracy.
As he watched the demons chasing after them in the mirror, he made a commitment to himself that he would spend a lot more time at target practice if they made it home alive. If these people planned to stay at The Light, then he needed to prepare for all the crazy situations they seemed to find themselves in all the time.
The truck bounced over a parking-space divider. Landed on a paved road. Eifort followed it, accelerating even faster across the even surface. Ahead, the reservoir came into view. Brandon’s pulse, already thrumming away in his temples, burst into a dead sprint.
Showtime.
“I see the boat!” Grabbing the radio, Eifort held it to her mouth. “Cass, I can see you. We’re twenty degrees off your bow.”
The lady on the other end came back. “Got you! On our way! You’ve got Vladdies coming from your right when you hit the shore.”
“We’re ready.”
The road they followed drove straight into the water. It was some kind of entry into the reservoir as far as Brandon could tell, but he’d never been on a boat in his life and didn’t know a damn thing about them.
Eifort kept them at a high speed until they were so close to the shore that, for a second, Brandon thought she wouldn’t stop and would crash into the water. At the last moment, she slammed the brakes, sending them flying forward.
“Hold on,” she said.
Lance’s head popped in through the open rear window, the muscles in his face and neck straining as he held onto the bed for dear life. “Jesus Christ, what—”
Eifort yanked the wheel left, spinning the truck around one-hundred-eighty degrees. The tires belched smoke, crying out in protest. Lance disappeared from the window as he slammed into the side of the bed, then collapsed to the floor. A string of curses followed.
The force of their power slide threw Brandon against his door, his free hand shooting out to grab hold of anything it could find, but coming up empty.
They finally came to a screeching halt less than ten feet from the edge of the water.
Brandon could taste the burnt rubber. “That was some sweet driving!”
“Get the doors open,” Lance yelled as he climbed to his feet. “Kid, shoot those fuckers along the water! I’ve got the bastards behind… well, ahead of us now.”
Before Brandon could even respond, Lance opened fire.
39
The sight of the boat sent a rush of relief, happiness, and sheer panic coursing through Lance—emotions he hadn’t felt so strongly since the birth of Dragon. His wife was on that boat. She was alive. And she would have a tough time getting from the boat into the vehicle with the Vladdies approaching.
As he steadied himself on the bed of the truck, his shoulder hurting like a son of a bitch from when he’d slammed off the hard floor, he spun around and faced the oncoming danger. He appreciated Eifort’s expert driving to get them in position for the pickup, but he could’ve used more of a heads-up before she went and did her best Evel Knievel impression.
A pack of Vladdies raced toward them, their horror show of sun protection flapping with each step. The scalp of a brunette sat atop the head of the lead beast, the long hair matted and disgusting.
Lance took aim at it and fired.
Missed.
His second shot rang true, though a solid foot under where he’d intended. The bullet struck the lead Vladdie in the chest. The impact locked the beast’s limbs, sending it toppling face-first onto the pavement.
Pieces of the human skin and animal hides covering its body tore free as the Vladdie slid along the road. The beast thrashed wildly as its back was exposed to the fading sunlight.
Smoke wafted from its flesh as the vampire cooked.
Shifting his gun, he popped off more shots.
Some hit, some didn’t.
Even though his aim had improved over the years with what little practice they managed to get in, he’d never be the same caliber of marksman as Eifort or even Cass. He’d thought about switching positions with Eifort so he could drive and she could shoot, but he knew whoever was on the back of the truck would be in much more danger. He’d already lost one friend today, and he didn’t intend to lose another.
That and switching positions would cost them precious time they didn’t have.
Besides, her little sliding stop only proved she was the better driver anyway. In fact, he considered her to be better than him at pretty much everything.
Except being a dumbass.
No one could top his skill in that department.
The rifle bucked against his shoulder as he fired off another handful of rounds, dropping two more Vladdies. At his current rate, it would take more ammunition than he had to finish them off.
Shots cracked from behind him as the kid finally opened fire on the pack racing along the shore. Lance glanced in that direction, assessing their worsening situation. The group along the water was quite a bit farther away than those closing in front of them.
“Kid,” Lance screamed. “I need you to shoot at the pack in front of us!”
Before he finished his orders, Eifort’s door opened and she stepped out of the truck, taking a knee on the concrete. She held a rifle in her hands. Lance figured she’d snagged it from the kid, so she could go to work.
For a woman who had suffered from shyness when they’d met, Lance marveled at the badass she’d become.
They shot at the Vladdies in unison, cutting down the first five in a flash. The infected flopped on the pavement, their blood spilling in the road, their skin blackening as their protection tore free.
The boat’s engine grew louder behind them.
Lance’s gun clicked empty.
He took a knee and shoved his hand through the window. “Mag!”
Greg slammed one in his palm a second later.
Ripping the spent magazine free, Lance jammed the second one in.
Eifort continued shooting as he took aim again.
They’d cut the beasts down by half.
A Vladdie wearing what appeared to be the hide of a black bear raced past the others. Bullets bounced at its feet as it bounded toward them. Its teeth g
listened in the dying light as it roared and leapt into the air.
The vampire soared toward the truck.
Lance tried to aim at it, though time felt as if it had shifted into slow motion. He saw fine details on the black fur of the Vladdie as it flew at them. Its mouth, only partially hidden under the pelt, widened as it drew near, ready to latch onto anything it could.
Eifort missed it with two shots.
Lance with another.
The Vladdie slammed against the front of the truck, its feet latching onto the rack covering the grill. Taloned hands scratched at the hood, denting the metal and peeling the paint. Its head lifted back as it produced an ear-splitting shriek.
Pain stabbed at Lance’s head from the closeness of the howl. He tried to aim, but his hands faltered under the pressure of the bleating sound.
His eyes watered, ears throbbed.
Eifort faltered on her knee, almost toppling over as one hand went to the side of her head. Her grip on the rifle nearly gave way.
It lunged forward again, landing fully on the hood.
The metal buckled.
The soul-crushing shriek finally abated.
Lance shot it in the face.
“Holy shit,” Brandon screamed. “Holy shit!”
Greg had opened both rear doors and now aimed through the one on the left, shooting a pistol at the Vladdies by the water. Lance didn’t bother to see if he connected with any because he heard the boat skidding up the concrete sloping out of the water.
Cass had arrived.
40
“I’ll get my bag,” Bill said as they raced toward the boat ramp. “Your request is underneath it.”
Cass barely heard him as she watched the carnage playing out ahead of them. Her husband stood on the back of a truck, firing over the roof at Vladdies she couldn’t see. The infected racing toward them along the water were drawing near, but she knew the ones in front of the truck must be a lot closer if they had the attention of Lance and Megan.
“What did you say?” Cass asked.
“Look under my bag.”
Cass leaned forward and shifted his duffel bag to the side, revealing the floor of the boat.