Nick shook his head, the only indication he knew life existed outside of his laptop. He didn’t even shiver despite sitting in and under snow.
“We brought you along for this.”
“Guilt trips won’t make the signals happen.”
Craig rolled his eyes, groaning inwardly while sticking his fingers under his armpits. He wished the chocolate bar and flat pop he had downed an hour ago lingered on his tongue. Sadly, everything else Bob found in the refreshment room behind the front desk had already been divvied up amongst the camp.
Hashim stepped up to the hacker with a sideways grin. “So, what’s your story? How come you hate the government so much?”
Nick stopped typing, rolled his eyes with a huff, and glared at Hashim. “Why? Think I’m going to suicide-bomb you or something? Why not accuse me of the plague while you’re at it?”
“Hey, I was just—”
“Well, let me save you the trouble. Aniq Hatim al-Qureshi is not guilty of anything but being of Pakistani descent.”
“And hacking, apparently,” Craig added to defend his friend and fellow Panel member.
Nick resumed typing. “I’ve got my own beef with the government.”
Hashim waved off the rude hacker.
Craig walked to the edge of the hotel roof, regarding the thin coat of snow covering the giant parking lot below, its massive theater, and the other hotel nearby. A quiet little village full of decent-looking apartments sat across the highway to the west near a school and a few chain restaurants; behind him, some kind of stadium. All of it covered in snow, but not death. Just abandoned. What had happened here?
Suddenly, Chuck burst through the access door, huffing like he had sprinted up all the stairs.
“Chuck. You okay?”
“Have any of you seen Leticia?” Chuck asked in a flourish, frantically searching every nook and cranny on the roof before giving the horizon a good look. “We were playing until she went to the bathroom. Now, I can’t find her.”
Hashim shook his head. Nick just shrugged without breaking his typing cadence.
Craig shared a knowing glance with Hashim, both filled with the same dread and remorse for not being able to share it. “No, we haven’t.”
“I’ll help you look,” Hashim said as he gently ushered Chuck away. The buff guardian went begrudgingly, his eyes still scanning the horizon on the way back to the stairway door.
“I’ll grab some others,” Craig offered, “form search parties.”
Chuck nodded and went more willingly.
“Could someone grab me a drink while you’re at it?” Nick asked without looking.
The three rolled their eyes at the hacker before crossing the doorway. Craig prayed to God it was a misunderstanding and not these supposed Mountain Men.
CHAPTER 14
LIGHT OVER THE MOUNTAIN
Didi watched Lavon comprehend the bomb Cody and Gilda just dropped on her. It was a lot to take in, but the look on that skinny mug still chewing on her new reality along with that mouthful of chips was hilarious. Good thing Rachelle and Isaac were busy loading weapons into the truck bed, or they might overwhelm the malnourished Marine with their two cents apiece.
“Let me see if I have this right, Sergeant,” Lavon said to Cody, pointing to each person in succession. “Zombies are real and pretty much everywhere, she’s one of them but not eating anyone, you’re an Army medic who woke her brain up, you two busted the kid out of juvenile detention, this is your nurse, and that other guy out there is just some thug that fell in with you?”
“We take all kinds,” Didi said with a playful shrug.
Cody’s sweaty mug grinned coyly. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”
“No shit, Sergeant, with all due respect,” Lavon added, probably out of habit.
He nodded sagely, which seemed to bring her an odd sense of relief. It must have been a long time since she had seen anyone in uniform, but perhaps the traditions of service helped this brave woman survive so long on her own. It wasn’t as if he could report otherwise to anyone, but old habits died hard. Who was Didi to take that away from her?
“How many other dead people do you have with you?” Lavon asked warily.
“Just her,” Cody replied with a nod at Didi. “No one else wanted to stay that way.”
“She kept us stocked up ‘til now,” the thug said as he walked back in to grab some more guns, though Didi caught a rather interested gleam in his eye, “and she’s pretty damn good in a fight. She’ll cover your ass like cotton or silk or whatever does the job.”
“I can cover my own ass well enough, thank you,” Lavon snapped with a withering glare.
The big man scoffed and grabbed some more rifles off the shelf.
Lavon now looked more troubled than turned off.
“You worried you gave up too soon?” Didi asked.
Lavon regarded her with equal parts surprise, guilt, and defensiveness. Then it was just guilt. “I’ve held my post for so long, and I didn’t even know why. Now I feel like I sold out my country for some damn food. I mean, I got … enough. I was just rationing.”
A glance over at her last two boxes over all the flattened ones said otherwise. With two pouches left in one box and the other unopened, she might’ve run out in a couple of weeks, tops.
“You did your duty … well beyond … what anyone else would’ve,” Cody breathlessly assured her. “You’re lucky you didn’t … end up like the others.”
The Marine frowned at him, though a hint of fear filled those chocolate eyes. “What happened to the others?”
“Shot dead,” Rachelle said while entering past the departing Isaac. “All of them.”
Lavon’s eyes widened, suffering either grief or another episode of blown mind.
“Corporal,” Cody said solemnly, “why was each post … manned by only one troop?”
“I don’t know, Sergeant,” the Marine said without looking Cody in the eye, which piqued Didi’s curiosity. “Captain Washington authorized the use of deadly force and said that only he would relieve me. That’s all he told me.”
Didi didn’t quite buy that last part, but she held her tongue. For now. “Did he leave you all this food, too?”
Lavon shook her head. “That ran out in two months. I had to go look, and it was all over post until I cleared it.” She paused with an odd grin. “I’d always wondered what happened. I never saw anybody. I never heard anything.” A brief laugh escaped her. “For a while, I’d wondered if it was aliens or … God’s rapture, like in that movie, Left Behind.”
Didi made a mental note to watch that one if the chance ever arose.
“But zombies?” The confused Marine shook her head. “You’d think I would’ve seen one.”
“But you still … secured your post,” Cody said.
Lavon nodded at him. “Yes, Sergeant. I was about to hit town for more food when you showed up. I guess you saved me a trip,” she added with a sad laugh.
“Hoo-rah, Corporal,” he said with an approving grin.
The Marine smiled back. “Hoo-rah!”
“It could’ve been a lot worse,” Gilda offered. “People in Denver said something about Mountain Men around here, sounding pretty ominous.”
Lavon flinched with wide-eyed curiosity. “There are survivors there? Anywhere else?”
“Don’t get too excited. You wouldn’t believe how far downhill that place has slid; not much there but raiders, scavengers, and cadavers.”
“Well, either these Mountain Men … aren’t really a thing,” Cody said, then grinned at Lavon as he added, “or the corporal’s just that sneaky.”
The Marine shoved some more chips into her mouth with a shrug.
Still, Didi couldn’t let it stand. The people she met in Denver spoke of these Mountain Men with great fear. “I’m going to go stand watch. You get better, you hear?” she said to Lavon.
The lean Marine gave her a mock salute while chowing down.
Didi patted Cody on t
he shoulder, and walked out. Barely out the door, she overheard the conflicted Marine ask him if he and Didi were somehow a thing. He denied it, like usual.
Didi almost laughed. Almost. No point in dwelling on that again when there could be worse things to come.
*****
Cynthia shivered fiercely in the drafty room. Her green denim pro-vided her flesh no more warmth from the cold than cover from the leer of that creepy tub of lard pretending to guard her. Still bound by the hands and feet—the former behind her—she would be defenseless if the perv tried something, and she didn’t see the camp giving a shit if he did. She hadn’t felt this helpless since before she left home, and she swore she would never feel that way again.
The problem remained how to get out of this. Despite all the places these people had raided, they kept using duct tape instead of actual handcuffs. Seducing the perv was an easy option, but these days even the most desperate people were smart enough to insist on the quid before the quo, and the only way she was touching his quid was to punch it.
“Stop staring at me, you creep,” she snapped without looking at the perv, preferring the view of the bland rose patterns on the grayish curtains than his randy gaze.
“Excuse me, your Highness,” the pudgy bastard muttered, but she could still feel those creepy green eyes undressing her.
“Hey, Aaron,” the perv’s twin said in a flourish as he appeared in the doorway. “That wrestler guy’s looking for his kid. Have you seen her?”
The perv flinched, looking dumber than usual. “Which one is that?”
“The skinny girl with black hair, maybe ten or so. You didn’t notice?”
“Obviously not,” the perv groused, then grinned. “Can you believe we’re riding with El Corazon Grande?”
The twig shook his head. “You and wrestling, man. Look, if you see her around, let someone know. I mean, you wouldn’t want to piss off a pro-wrestler, would you?”
“Fine,” the perv replied with a wave before his less annoying sibling ran off. Then he leered at Cynthia again, probably fantasizing things that would make her sick.
She gritted her teeth away from him, choosing to watch the snow fall outside the window while she contemplated her available options.
Then she heard yelling; no, arguing. Someone was pissed about something; it sounded like the beefy spic who had tackled her the other day. She still felt sore about that. Since when were wrestlers ever track stars, especially this long after the end of the world?
The perv walked up to the window and watched whatever was going on out there, and nice break from him undressing her with his eyes.
“I swear I haven’t seen her since she went to the bathroom,” Miss America said, not far away.
“Then where the hell is she?” the luchador roared.
“We searched the hotel top to bottom,” the baker said. “We need to start combing the block.”
“But which way?” came from Mister Flannel. “There’s no tracks anywhere.”
“All the shit they did to evade all those psychos in Denver,” the perv said with a smirk, “and they lose a damn kid here where there’s no one.”
Obviously not no one, you retard, she thought as she shook her head.
“Where’s Belinda?” suddenly came from somewhere closer, sounding like that soccer mom. “Is she out here?”
Murmurs followed before the baker shouted, “Line up, everyone. Give me four rows. If you’re carrying kids, hold them where we can see them. Better yet, put them up front.”
“Help me up,” she told the perv, who scoffed at her. She glared at the idiot. “What? You afraid I’m going to beat you up? You’ve leered at me long enough to see I’m all tied up, now be useful and help me up. I want to see what’s going on.”
Aaron glared at her before he gave her what she wanted, hauling her to her feet and positioning her against the window. She didn’t appreciate his hands still “holding her up” halfway between her hip and her ass, but she endured to watch the crowd outside standing in their little formation, some huddled closely to their kids or each other.
She did a quick count for her own edification. Thirty nine. Absent were the Death Doll, the necrophiliac, their two loyal dogs, the old bag, the priss, the butch redhead, the braided blonde, her brat triumvirate, and two girls.
“That’s everyone else,” the baker said.
“So where are the girls?” came from an open window. The priss.
The luchador pointed at Cynthia. “I’ll bet she knows. Probably paying us back for her posse.”
“Calm down, Chuck,” the baker said with his hands out like he could stop the muscular shrimp. “She’s been bound and under guard the whole time. There’s no way—”
El Pendejo Pequeño got in Hashim’s face. “What if some of her friends are following us? Or maybe she knows how to get out of some duct tape. Ever thought of that?”
“I’m not doing anything, you stupid wetback,” Cynthia snapped back.
Chuck tried to charge the hotel door, cussing up a storm while the baker and the priss’ ginger hubby held him at bay.
“You watch your mouth or we’ll let him at you,” Hashim shouted at her.
She sneered at him, but she silently reveled in watching the wrestler squirm in a grip he couldn’t break.
“Maybe it’s that Gamesman guy,” Miss America said. “He could’ve followed us.”
The baker stepped back into the open. “We’re not going to find the kids by guessing. We’ll break up into groups of three and—”
A bright flash of light stopped everything. Cynthia tried to see where it came from, but it quickly faded and the world was silent.
“What was that?” the scrawny nurse trainee asked, gawking westward.
“Lightning?” his clingy blond girlfriend pondered. Idiot.
“I’ve never seen lightning like that,” the perv’s twin said while pointing at the sky, “and these aren’t lightning clouds.”
All Cynthia could see was snow and the clouds that spewed it, but her nerves took a nosedive into mild panic. Only one thing could cover an entire valley in such bright light without killing everybody, and the thought of who or what could do it terrified her worse than anything the pervert or the wrestler could do to her.
*****
Rachelle counted her blessings at toting a truck full of weapons and ammo—including a few useful grenade launchers she considered mounting on the convoy vehicles—when the truck suddenly died. Dumbstruck, she turned the key a few more times, but nothing happened. The digital clock was off. The vents weren’t blowing. Nothing.
“What’choo do now?” Isaac snapped at her, which got him a well-deserved middle finger in his face while she tried to figure out how to get the truck started again.
“It’s dead,” Lavon said with a frown next to her. She tried pressing and swiping at the tablet. “This, too.”
“What was that light?” Gilda asked.
“There,” Cody said, pointing out his window.
Rachelle looked out the windshield and saw a ball of light dying above the mountains, leaving a few faint streaks of color that faded into the falling snow. She stepped out of the truck to get a better look, but all the light was gone. Isaac, Gilda, and Lavon were mesmerized as they stood outside their doors.
“What the hell was that?” Isaac asked.
“E.M.P.,” Cody muttered, staring horrifically at the truck console.
“What?” Rachelle asked.
“Electromagnetic pulse.”
Lavon frowned at Cody. “Can’t be, Sergeant. I mean, what could set off something like that other than a nuclear weapon?”
“A nuke?” Isaac uttered anxiously. “Who’d be settin’ off nukes here?
All Cody could do was shrug. He barely even breathed.
Isaac looked all around, then threw up his hands. “If that’s what that was, how come we still here?”
Gilda eyed Craig’s once reliable truck with dread, then did her best to shove Cody ba
ck into it. “All I know is we need a new vehicle, fast, or you’re going to get worse.”
“We can look for some un-fried parts to fix this one with,” Isaac suggested. “Most of these buildings are solid brick. That should shield ‘em, right?”
Lavon pointed west. “There’s a motor pool in the complex. They have T.M.P. trucks and vans. Plenty of L.M.T.V.s.”
“What are those?” Rachelle asked.
“Something we don’t have the … fuel for,” Cody said breathlessly while preventing Gilda from shutting the door on him. “A T.M.P. will do.”
“What about the guns?” Isaac asked.
Cody produced a pistol from somewhere in the truck. “I’m not going anywhere.” Then he opened the other door. “Hey, Didi,” he shouted, then fell into a huffing fit, like those two words had exhausted him.
Didi’s head shifted in several directions, but not theirs. Rachelle wasn’t sure what her mentor was looking at; nothing beyond her stood out at all.
“Corporal Higgins,” Cody shouted louder, “is taking Rachelle and Isaac … to look for truck parts. You want to go with them … or stay and babysit me and Gilda?”
Didi slowly turned, eventually finding Cody’s face with an odd look on hers, as if she had been shocked to be yelled at. Something in her eyes seemed lost.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
She moved toward him. Clumsily.
Rachelle’s stomach quivered. “Didi?”
And then, Didi growled.
PART TWO
“Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.”
Matthew 18:14
CHAPTER 15
HOT PURSUIT
Sean’s boots sloshed with every step, the revolver freezing his hand as much as the slush on the road did his toes. He wished the bus picked up the pace a little so that everyone following could get their blood pumping a little more; his mounting terror wasn’t enough. On top of freezing out here, he worried his shaky hands might miss whatever he may have to shoot at. The absence of zombies didn’t make him feel any better, because somebody was taking these kids.
Exodus Page 13