“What the fuck are you waiting for, Perry?” Grey yelled. “Shoot them!”
“I’m trying, Sir. I can’t get a clear shot without firing at the warm one,” he said nervously.
“Then shoot her too, Jesus Christ!”
“What?” Riley interrupted. “You can’t shoot her; she’s alive.”
“She’s also putting us all in danger with her incessant squawking,” Grey said matter-of-factly. He took hold of the supressed sniper rifle leaning on the chain link fence and took aim. “Sit your ass down, Perry, you useless prick, I’ll do it.”
Riley could just about make out her screams. She was begging to be let in; to be allowed to live, but Grey was deaf to it. Riley continued to argue with Grey, even considering taking the gun from him, wondering whether one of the Corporals would shoot him if he did. Before he could make his decision, Scarlett emerged from the main building with Quinlan in tow.
She took a few seconds to work out what was going on, but once she had, and having listened to Riley and Grey squabbling, she wasted no time in approaching and snatching the sniper rifle.
Scarlett fired four shots, taking out the Roamers. She handed the weapon back to Grey and ran to the fence. The young woman ran into it at speed, grabbing hold of the wire mesh and pulling herself against it like she thought she could materialise on the other side if she tried hard enough.
Scarlett took her hands and put her face close to hers. The girl was puffy-eyed and red-faced with the sobbing, and she sounded like she might hyperventilate with the ragged breaths she was taking.
“Hey,” she soothed, “it’s alright. You’re safe now.” The girl’s emerald green eyes finally met Scarlett’s and Scarlett smiled at her. “What’s your name?”
The girl took a couple of deep breaths before answering, “Chloe.”
“Hi, Chloe. I’m going to get you inside, but you need to follow this fence all the way around there,” she said, pointing toward the opening Riley had made.
Chloe shook her head.
“No, please. I can’t. There could be more.”
“Chloe, you’ll be fine. I’m going to walk right beside you. Riley, can you get Chloe a jacket and some water please?”
“Of course,” Riley said, walking briskly into the building.
Scarlett began walking slowly, skimming her hand along the fence to keep reassuring, physical contact with Chloe as she guided her to safety.
As Chloe and Scarlett reached the gap in the fence, Riley joined them. He slid a combat jacket onto Chloe’s arms and handed her a canteen. She gulped the water down gratefully and followed Scarlett and Riley inside.
She helped herself to a combat jacket from a hook on the wall, “Chloe, you’ve got two choices at this point. You can either come with us on the road, or I can speak to these people about you staying here.”
Chloe looked around at the safe walls and relative cleanliness of the building.
“I want to stay. I can’t go back out there.”
None of them had noticed Grey sneaking in to listen and they both flinched when he spoke.
“She can stay,” he said, “but I’d like a quick word before you leave, if you don’t mind.”
“Are you always this creepy, or are you doing it for effect right now?” Scarlett asked dryly.
“My office please, McKenzie.”
Scarlett looked to Riley.
“Be ready to leave when I’m done.”
Riley didn’t have a chance to respond before Scarlett followed Grey down the hall.
Hovering by the door, Scarlett glanced around Grey’s office. It was intimidating, but Scarlett hid it as best she could. Grey was already sitting at his desk, staring at her.
“Please, sit,” he insisted, and Scarlett did so. “Scarlett, I want to get straight to the point and make you an offer.”
“Here we go,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.
“Not that kind of offer,” Grey replied. “I like you. You’re quick thinking, ruthless, and you know your way around a firearm. You should have been a soldier.” Scarlett finally looked at him, interested in where he was taking the conversation. “You know, you still could be.”
“I’m listening.”
“Before my superiors granted permission for this to be used as a medical facility, our mission here; our purpose, was to wipe out the growing Lurker population. Everyone has three base instincts. We either want to feed, fight or fuck. We’re all about fighting the feeders. We’d like to continue our mission, but we can’t do that without recruiting.”
“What’s that got to do with me?” Scarlett shrugged. “You want me to go out and recruit for you?”
“Perhaps,” Grey said, leaning forward onto the bulky desk. “With your skills and your spirit; your authoritarian guise, you could help me run this place. You’re merciless enough. You could lead The Headhunters, alongside me. I think we’d really be a force to be reckoned with.”
Scarlett surveyed him, but she found him incredibly difficult to read.
“You want me to co-lead? Why? You just met me.”
“You’re a born leader, McKenzie. I see the way your friends follow you. People trust you. More to the point, you’re a born killer. Join us here; help us end the Empties and reap the benefits.”
The room fell silent as Grey watched Scarlett seriously considering the offer. They had medicine, food, water, vehicles and armaments. As far as recruiting was concerned, Scarlett already knew she could bring the rest of the group from the warehouse. They could be trained, with the exception of Chino, Mouse, River and Jack, who were already up to scratch.
But she couldn’t do it, at least not yet.
“You seem to be forgetting that I’m pregnant, Sergeant Major.”
“Call me Ethan,” he offered.
“Okay… Ethan. I’m approximately halfway through growing a human, and I’m already on my own mission: to find Travis and Hope.”
“Listen, McKenzie,” he said, getting to his feet and walking slowly around the desk, “I don’t wish to upset you in any way, but how long could a man and a child really make it alone out there? I understand that the situation you’re in is… problematic, but not entirely impossible to overcome.” Perching on the edge of the desk in front of her and folding his arms, he continued; “We have a plethora of medication here, as you can imagine. We also have medical books. I’m sure, with the proper research, I could help you to, uh, solve your problem.” Scarlett frowned at him and he nodded toward her abdomen. “I can appreciate that it’s a difficult thing to consider, but it sure would make life easier.”
Scarlett continued to stare at him with an open mouth and a furrowed brow.
“You’re talking about abortion?” she clarified. He nodded and Scarlett took a moment to process his words before responding with a carefully considered reply: “Go fuck yourself.”
She promptly stood and stormed out, slamming the door.
Aware that Grey was following her, she made a bee-line for Riley.
“Are you okay?”
“We’re leaving,” she ordered, “right now.”
“Scarlett!” Grey called. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said in there, I’m sorry.”
Turning to face him, Scarlett’s hand came to rest instinctively and protectively on her belly.
“Oh, so you don’t actually think that I should research the most effective way to kill my unborn child, so that I can help you with your deluded theory that a small group of people can systematically eradicate the plague of undead which, let me remind you, is a global pandemic?”
“He said what?” Riley blurted, infuriated.
“Look, tact isn’t a quality that I possess, I’ll admit that,” Grey stated. “And I wasn’t trying to force you to do anything, McKenzie. I just thought that, given what you’ve been through, you might have been feeling like you were dealing with it alone.”
“She’s not alone,” Quinlan interjected.
“I thought you might have been look
ing for a way out.”
“Well, you’re wrong. Good luck with your mission, Sergeant Major,” Scarlett concluded.
“No, come on, McKenzie. Let’s work this out. You can all stay,” he tried. “You can still help us. Private Mills, you can help too. The base is secure; you can have your baby in safety with a medical supply.”
“What’s in it for you?” Quinlan probed. “You seem very eager to keep us here.”
“Not you,” Grey sneered, “Scarlett. All I ask is that you help with recruitment during your pregnancy. It'll be perfectly safe.”
“How would it ever be safe for a pregnant woman out there?” Riley growled. “And to top it off, you want her to actively seek out strangers and just hope that they won't rob her, rape her or kill her. With all due respect, you clearly don't have much experience out there, Sir.”
“You're right, Private Mills. That's just another reason why Scarlett, and indeed yourself, would be invaluable to us.” He turned to Scarlett, “Think about it, McKenzie: you can help us in return for a safe place to stay, decent food, medication and water... and the added ability to continue your search for your daughter and her father.”
Chapter Nine
Travis
Permanently woozy and still drifting in and out of consciousness from the pain relief, Travis was startled when he realised that someone was touching his leg. His eyes snapped open to see Kate flinch, clearly not realising that he was awake.
“Sorry, Travis,” she said. “I thought I’d try and do this while you were resting. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Nah, it’s alright,” Travis smiled, feeling guilty for frightening her. He looked down to see that his makeshift splint had been upgraded to a cast.
“I just need to see what the progress is with your ribs and then I’ll leave you alone.”
Kate pulled the sheet down enough to expose Travis’ torso and began inspecting the bruises. Travis winced as she poked and prodded him.
“How’s your breathing been?”
“It’s sore, but bearable. It’s worse at night.”
“Okay,” Kate nodded, covering him up again. “It’s healing well. I can’t be sure about your leg until the cast comes off, but the way you landed and the speed we managed to get the splint on means it should at least heal straight.”
“How long ‘till I’m back on my feet?”
Kate sighed, “It’s hard to say. We’re working on getting you some crutches. On average, I’d say healing time should be between six and eight weeks, but we need to get you out of bed to make it happen. We’ve got a wheelchair here somewhere. I’ll dig it out and we can get you into the fresh air for a while tomorrow. You’ll be able to meet everybody.”
Travis was not enthralled by the prospect of meeting new people while confined to a wheelchair, and was relieved when he heard light tapping on the door.
Hope poked her head into the room, grinning playfully, before running to her father’s bedside with a large, black umbrella.
“This is a umbrella!”
“Wow, that’s right, sweetheart!” Travis replied eagerly. “Where’d you find it?”
“I gave it to her,” Piper panted as she entered. “Your daughter was completely obsessed with seeing one. She can keep it; it’s not exactly useful to us.”
“Thanks, Piper. What do we say, Hope?”
“Thanks, Piper!”
“You’re welcome, honey. Now, how about you snuggle up with your daddy? I’ve got one more surprise up my sleeve for you.”
Travis held his breath while Hope climbed into bed next to him, praying she didn’t fall onto his ribs. She didn’t. Instead, she helped herself to a corner of Travis’ sheet and gently laid down, cuddling into his arm.
Piper was rummaging around in a cupboard, giving a triumphant, “ah-ha!” when she found what she was looking for: a portable DVD player. She rested it on Hope’s lap and switched it on.
“This was mine. It hasn’t been used since everything went to crap, so I don’t know if it works, but it’s worth a shot.”
The screen lit up, flashing the brand name before the menu for The Wizard of Oz began. Hope’s eyes lit up and she smiled up at Travis as Piper pressed play.
“This was my favourite when I was a little girl. You and your daddy need to get some rest, so Kate and I will leave you alone. G’night.”
“Night, night,” Hope chirped.
* * *
Kate battled with the doorframe, wiggling the wheelchair into the room while Travis watched.
“So, you’re tellin’ me I’ll be in that when you crash and rattle it back over the threshold?” he laughed.
“I guess you will be. And the level of care I take depends entirely on your admiration of my wheelchair pushing skills,” Kate replied dryly.
“Oh. Well, in that case, you’re doin’ great.”
Once the wheelchair was positioned at the side of his bed, Travis scooted himself over. Determined to do it on his own, he leaned across and took hold of an armrest, but the moment he tried to transfer his weight, a sharp pain running through his chest incited a winded groan.
Kate stepped closer to assist, supporting as much of Travis’ weight as she could, and he was able to lower himself into the seat.
“Sorry,” Travis panted.
“It’s okay. I wouldn’t expect you to be able to do it all yourself so soon. Don’t be too proud to ask for help, alright?” Travis nodded while Kate lifted his broken leg onto the footplate.
Outside, Travis was amazed by the set up. Marquees and tents were scattered about the enormous garden, and the dull roar of chatter from the residents milling around filled the air.
Travis clutched his ribs as Kate bumped the wheelchair over the grass toward the source of the noise.
Smoke billowed out from under the roof of a large green marquee, and a queue of people stood, plates in hand, waiting to be served by a large, grey-haired man, who was manning a barbeque and hotplate. He wore a tatty blue apron, stained by meals past, and proudly scooped poached eggs onto the outstretched tableware of the residents.
“Hungry?” Kate asked.
“I am now,” Travis replied.
Kate wheeled Travis to the front of the line and handed him an empty plate.
“Good morning,” the tall man smiled. “Poached, fried or scrambled?”
“Whatever you got. I ain’t fussy when I’m hungry.”
“This is Travis,” Kate interjected, “our wounded stranger. Travis, this is Bill, our chef and farmer.”
Bill leant over the hot plate to shake Travis’ hand, “Good to meet you, Travis.”
“Likewise.”
While Bill dished up Travis’ breakfast, Kate scanned the line of people, looking for who to introduce him to next.
“The blonde lady in the interesting shirt, that’s Ada. She works in the sewing tent and as you can see from her outfit, she is master of needle and thread. Tall, dark and handsome behind her is Vaughan, our handyman and musician. I think the least awkward way to introduce you to everyone is to have breakfast with us. Although, I’ll warn you; everyone will be looking at you and expecting your entire life story, so I get it if you want to pretend you don’t speak English.”
Travis chuckled, “I’ll bear that in mind.”
Chapter Ten
Scarlett
The weeks were passing in a blur, and Scarlett was running out of patience. She knew that the time she’d spent recruiting for Grey could have been far better spent, but Riley’s stance on keeping her and the baby safe had remained unchanged. Her relationship with Grey was strained; she despised him, but not only because of his suggestions about her pregnancy. There was something off about him, and Scarlett couldn’t put her finger on it.
It was like being around Jekyll and Hyde. On a good day, he couldn’t praise Scarlett enough. But if she returned without new recruits, he ridiculed her, called her useless, and sometimes pointed out that it was due to the amount of weight she was gaining; tha
t she wasn’t able to move fast enough anymore. In truth, Scarlett had barely put on any weight at all. Her belly had grown, but it was much smaller than it had been with Hope. His favourite nickname for her on a bad day was ‘the host,’ and Scarlett was really struggling to understand why he allowed her to stay if he had such an issue with her pregnancy. She didn’t dare to question him though.
Scarlett took everything in. She believed what he told her, especially when he said it in front of people. No one defended her against his remarks, with the exception of Riley if he was in earshot. Grey would often put an arm around Scarlett’s shoulders and laugh it off, “I’m just pulling her leg,” he’d say, and Scarlett would laugh along to a joke that she didn’t get.
She slipped into her appropriated combat jacket, which draped loosely over her expanding abdomen. Quinlan had been providing regular sonograms for the last few weeks and all seemed well with the baby. It was still pretty small, and after making use of the medical books, Riley had discovered that it could have been due to Scarlett's persistent use of codeine, combined, of course, with her shitty diet.
She began counting the rounds left in her pistol when she heard Grey’s voice.
“Here,” he said. Scarlett turned to see him offering a brand-new box of ammunition. “I said you can use supplies, and I meant it. I don’t expect you to do this for nothing.”
“I’m not,” Scarlett countered, “We have shelter, food and water. That’s what was agreed. I’ve been using ammo that I find when I’m out.”
“Alright. Well consider this a bonus. The Headhunters have already tripled in manpower, and Private Mills is doing his part by training them. We appreciate your help, McKenzie. Even Quinlan; he’s doing a great job in the kitchen.”
Scarlett searched Grey’s eyes for an ulterior motive. When she couldn’t find one, she accepted the ammo box with a half-smile. After stuffing it into her rucksack, she slung her rifle over a shoulder by its strap and placed her pistol in her improved weapon belt.
And then, she noticed. Grey hadn’t budged. In fact, he was armed, and had his military issue Bergen on his back.
“Are you going somewhere?” she asked, hopeful that they would at least be travelling in opposite directions.
Roamers (Book 2): Fear. Loss. Survival. Hope. Page 8