The Roaming (Book 2): The Toll

by Hegarty, W. J.

  “I’m not getting fucked up over his crippled ass. If it comes down to me or Ryan, I’ll leave him right here.” Damon stared across the atrium to the lobby and the small group tending to their injured companion.

  “You think I won’t?” Radzinski replied. “I don’t know what we can expect aboard this ship Cortez mentioned, but anything’s better than this. I say we stick with these guys and get on the first boat out of here. Any stragglers can rot for all I care.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Damon responded with nary a stray thought toward Markus.

  • • •

  Preparations to leave were finalized over the following hour. A large portion of the group met in a second-story corner-room overlooking the westernmost parking lot and a long narrow alley to the north. The supplies Cortez’s crew gathered were few. Even still, they were spread evenly throughout everyone’s bags. Gear was strapped down tight and anything deemed not vital was discarded. Miller and his group’s impromptu entrance had unfortunate consequences on an otherwise routine supply run and extraction. Large masses of infected were commonly encountered on these missions, but Cortez and his crew had become proficient in stealth, so they rarely found themselves with this many carriers aware of their presence. Regardless of the mass having thinned a little over the course of the afternoon, a deviation in the plan was deemed necessary.

  “Why don’t some of us go out to the end of the pier and dismantle a section from the middle? Halfway out and a six-foot gap would work just fine. It’s not like those things can jump or climb,” Miller suggested. “Then we can shuttle the rest of the group out there a few at a time.”

  “No can do, mate.” Ahole shook his head. “Because of you lot making so much noise, we’ve had to cut this excursion short.”

  “What Ahole is trying to say is that we’ve barely even explored this part of town,” Cortez explained. “We might want to come back when these things have forgotten about us and move on. For all we know, these hotels are loaded with useful supplies, so no, dismantling the pier is not an option.”

  “That will not work, anyway. There are too many of them out there for us to do the job.” Soraya was peering out of a window and into an alleyway below that stretched east and west along the backside of the hotel.

  “Right. So does anyone have any ideas how we can reach the pier without being spotted?” Miller asked.

  “We need a diversion,” Cortez suggested. “Someone needs to lead them away from here before we make for the pier.”

  “We can send one of them out.” Ahole gestured to Miller’s unit.

  “Wait just a minute here. My people are exhausted. We’ve got wounded and two pregnant women. We barely made it this far to begin with.”

  “Hey, I don’t like it, either, mate but someone’s gotta go, and it ain’t gonna be us.”

  “Is this how you treat all the survivors you come across? We just need a little help here,” Vanessa said as calmly as she was able, not wanting to make matters worse.

  “It’s called brutal reality, babe. Nothing personal.”

  “That’s enough, Ahole,” Cortez interrupted. “Look, it is nothing personal. I feel for you guys—I really do—but I have a responsibility here that supersedes any feelings I may harbor toward refugees. All my people come home safe. Bottom line.”

  “Refugees, ha. Where have I heard that one before?” Markus commented.

  “We’re people, too, you know?” Samantha appealed. “You can’t just treat us like livestock.”

  “Fuck these guys, Miller. They’re outnumbered three to one.” Radzinski fixed his rifle on Cortez.

  Ahole pointed his weapon at Radzinski. Soraya unsheathed her kukri. In less than a second, a dozen guns were aimed at various heads in the room.

  “Just give me the word, Miller.” Radzinski fingered his trigger. “I’ll grease this motherfucker right now.”

  “Try it, moron.” Genevieve pressed her pistol to the back of Radzinski’s neck. “You kill us, you’re still stuck here with no place to go. Fucking macho idiot.” She holstered her sidearm.

  “Stand down, Radzinski. They’re right. Everyone, lower your weapons. We brought this to your doorstep, and for that, I apologize, but we can fix this. I’ll go. Just promise me you’ll look after my people, Cortez.”

  “I’ll take care of them like they’re my own, Miller. You have my word.”

  “Outstanding! That is very magnanimous of you, young man.” Lancaster had the audacity to offer Miller a handshake.

  Soraya dropped the old man with a left hook. “No, I go. I am faster.”

  “That is completely out of the question. There’s no way I’m letting you go out there alone.”

  “This is not for you to decide, Miller.” Soraya placed her hand on Miller’s chest. “The mission comes first.” She looked around at the worried faces of the group and back to Miller, who had lowered his head and closed his eyes.

  “No,” he whispered, voice cracking, exhausted, as if the weight of the world simply refused to budge from his shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” Cortez said. “But from what I can tell, this is the only way.”

  Jeremiah was full of remorse over what he was about to say, pain etched on his face. “She’s right, Miller. I am so sorry to have to tell you this, but Soraya is the quickest among us. If anyone in this room has a chance of outmaneuvering those things, it would be her.”

  “Goddammit, don’t you think I know that, Jerry?” Miller shouted. “Just hold on a minute. Let me think about this. There’s got to be another way.”

  “Yeah, she looks fast to me.” Damon shrugged.

  Jeremiah darted across the room. He forced Damon into a wall with his forearm pressing firmly against Damon’s neck. The drywall caved under the impact, leaving Damon partially embedded in it. “Never interject yourself into my conversation again. Am I speaking slow enough for that street-trash brain of yours to process?” Jeremiah pushed harder.

  Damon’s face went red as he choked. “Yeah, yeah, okay. Fuck, man, I can’t breathe.”

  Jeremiah pushed forcefully again before letting go. Damon fell to the floor, gasping for air. Jeremiah watched him fall. He stood above the downed thug, daring him to get back up.

  • • •

  The room was illuminated in red by the day’s waning light. Cortez and the others backed away to give Miller and Soraya privacy. Their conversation was so hushed that the others in the room struggled to hear. Miller’s body language told the tale.

  Soraya still had her hand on his chest. She used her other to raise Miller’s head by his chin. His eyes were welling as they made contact with hers. “You know I am the fastest. Everything will be okay. I will make my way to the inlet, go back to the island. You can pick me up later, when everyone is safe,” Soraya said with a serenity usually reserved for goodbyes.

  “Soraya, it’s three miles back to the boats. It’ll be night soon and…”

  “Then I better get going.” Soraya held her palm to his cheek. “Sometimes we have to do what is best for everyone, not ourselves.” She used her thumb to blot a tear for him. “We will meet again, Miller.”

  He held her gently by the waist. His fingers trembled as they danced along her belt. “I…” he tried, tears flowing freely.

  Soraya gently pulled the fragile soldier’s head down. She leaned up on the tips of her toes as far as she could manage to kiss him on his forehead. “I know.”

  The room was silent. Some looked on while others couldn’t bear to watch the dying throes of yet another person they had come to call a friend.

  Radzinski turned his back on the scene before quietly exiting the room. He found a spot out in the hallway where he leaned heavily against the wall.

  Lillian hid her face in Vanessa’s shoulder and began to sob. She clenched tightly onto Vanessa’s shirt. “She’s not coming back, is she?”

  “Shh,” Vanessa whispered softly as she gently rubbed Lillian’s head. “I don’t know.” She wrapped her other ar
m tightly around Lillian. “I don’t know.”

  Miller was frozen. The twisted reasoning of her sacrifice began to blur, and he imagined himself denying Cortez’s offer and continuing the journey he and the others had started so long ago. Muffled sobs from across the room pierced his heart. He knew the survivors of Pepperbush were depending on him. He knew that continuing on like they had was futile. The road would be the death of them all. Cortez’s ship was the only option left. “There’s so much I want to say right now.”

  “I know.” Soraya understood that they lived on borrowed time.

  Cortez approached. The weight of their decision was not lost on the stranger. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Truly I am. But it’s time.”

  The rope of bedsheets held strong. Miller, Cortez, Bull, and Ulrich slowly and carefully lowered Soraya to the alley below. Jeremiah, Genevieve, and Ahole were there to offer cover, if the need arose. She waved the all-clear when she finally reached solid footing, quickly cut herself loose of the sheets, and ducked behind a nearby dumpster. Alone in the darkening alley, she steadied herself, taking in deep breaths, preparing to sprint for an unknown location.

  “You run. You run like you’ve never run before.” Miller’s voice echoed in Soraya’s mind and she wondered if she would ever see him again. She looked up to the window a final time. She locked eyes with Miller and smiled for him. She gently nodded and mouthed the words “it’s okay.”

  Miller yearned to leap down into the darkened alley with her. They could face that uncertain future together, just the two of them, instead of dying alone. He couldn’t, though. Once again, the needs of the many trumped two people’s desires. He had many lives that depended on him. He was their leader, and they needed him. Finally, at the end, he understood. Every decision made from the moment he saw Pepperbush’s lights in the darkness was to get them to this place, right here, right now. If they had left the island a day before or a day after, where would they be? His group’s best chance at survival lay with Cortez and his crew aboard this much-hyped Haven of theirs. All the sacrifice had better be worth it.

  Soraya turned on the smoke detector that hung from her neck like a medallion. Its piercing wail shattered the silence. While Miller and Cortez had crafted a makeshift rope from bed linens, Soraya got to work bringing a busted smoke detector back to life. If Elliot’s mishap with the car earlier in the day was any indication, the racket this thing made should lead the throngs of undead away from the hotel. There was no turning back now as she banged a steel pipe against the hollow dumpster. The commotion was working fast. At the east end of the alley, the first of a wave of undead stumbled into view. She jumped up and down, waving her arms in frantic desperation for their attention. Soraya banged on the dumpster a few more times, and the carriers finally took notice. Their pace seemed to quicken as they marched deeper into the alley.

  Miller raised his rifle and quickly lined up a headshot on the infected nearest to Soraya. He was well aware that what he was about to do was wrong. His fingers trembled as he felt a stern but compassionate hand on his shoulder. Jeremiah said nothing. He simply looked his friend in the eye, his stoic facade briefly weakened at Miller’s pain. To fire even one shot would risk everything. Giving away their position would render Soraya’s sacrifice moot. Miller lowered his weapon and gazed south again in time to see Soraya disappear down a side street as hundreds of infected pursued her. The plan was working. As fast as the decision had been agreed upon to sacrifice one life in the best interest of the many, Soraya was gone.

  Ulrich was no stranger to loss. He had a tale of his own that only Bull was privy to. He felt Miller’s pain as deeply as any stranger could. Empathy was an old friend. Ulrich stepped forward, eyes lowered, sullen. He recited an old poem his father read to him as a child while the alleyway below filled to beyond capacity, overflowing with undead.

  There are songs in Odin’s Hall,

  For the brave, ere night to fall!

  Doth the great sun hide his ray?

  He must bring a wrathful day!

  Sleeps the falchion in its sheath?

  Swords must do the work of death!

  Regner!-sea-king!-thee we call!

  There is joy in Odin’s Hall.

  At the feast and in the song,

  Thou shalt be remember’d long!

  By the green isles of the flood

  Thou hast left thy track in blood!

  On the earth and on the sea,

  There are those will speak of thee!

  ‘Tis enough-the war-gods call

  There is mead in Odin’s Hall!

  Regner! tell thy fair-hair’d bride

  She must slumber at thy side!

  Tell the brother of thy breast

  Ev’n for him thy grave hath rest!

  Tell the raven-steed which bore thee,

  When the wild wolf fled before thee,

  He too with his lord must fall

  There is room in Odin’s Hall!

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Turning Point

  No one discussed Soraya’s sacrifice; now was not the time for tears. They simply put their heads down and got the task of living done. Everyone in this newly merged group had seen death. They’d grown accustomed to it, but none of them had witnessed such a selfless act like hers before. Soraya gave them a chance to live. They owed it to her to do their part. Miller, Cortez, and Sam reviewed logistics. Radzinski and Jeremiah helped Bull and Ulrich remove the barricade from the west wing’s exit. Vanessa and Lillian assisted Genevieve and Ahole with the proper packing of all of their gear and scavenged goods. Simon helped Aiko, Rachel, and Bernie prep Ryan and Casandra for transport. Markus, Samantha, and Petrova were at the far end of the hotel, making as much noise as possible to try to distract at least a portion of the horde away from the western side of the building. Lancaster and Damon stood off to the side, uninspired and uninterested.

  Cortez issued a final briefing of what lay ahead. “The first team out of the door will clear a path through the parking lot to the base of the dune. They’ll remain staggered along the route to pick off any stray carriers until everyone is out of the hotel. As soon as the way is clear, Petrova will escort the first group of you to the edge of the parking lot. Just keep your heads down and stay on her ass and you’ll be fine. When she hits the summit, Simon and his group will be up next. By the time they get to the base, the first group will be up and over the dune. That’s how it’s going to work until we’re all on the other side, heading for the pier. This is going to go down fast. If you have any questions, now is the time. There will be no second chance at this. Just follow my men and this will all be over in a few minutes. Fall behind and you get left.” Cortez zipped up his bag and Genevieve secured it to his back. A hard slap let him know he was ready. “How are we looking, Simon?”

  “It’s about as clear as it’s going to get out there, boss,” Simon informed him as he gently peeled back the curtains for one final look.

  “We’ll just have to deal with it. We’re overdue as it is and losing daylight fast. The extraction team won’t wait. They’ll assume something happened and leave.”

  “They would just abandon you? That doesn’t make any sense.” The logic was lost on Miller; it stopped him in his tracks.

  Ahole was headed toward the rear and the second group. “We may not all be military, but we do follow protocol. Maybe you’re familiar with the term?”

  “The extraction boats departed Haven over thirty minutes ago,” said Cortez. “They are out there idling as we speak, waiting for our signal. We have exactly one hour from when they left to contact them or they return to the ship.”

  “And that’s it? They would just assume you were all dead and move on?” Miller asked.

  “They would try for pickup again tomorrow at the same time. After that, yes, they would cut their losses and move on.”

  “It’s the fuel, isn’t it?” Sam suggested.

  “You’re exactly right, sir. Every minute we’re late,
they’re burning fuel we don’t have.” Cortez held up his hands as if shushing an unruly classroom. “Listen, we’ll have time to get into this later. Trust me. But right now, we have to go.”

  “Lead the way.” Miller wouldn’t question Cortez’s leadership; it wasn’t in his nature. Cortez had a point, and that was that. He would have to take a leap of faith and trust in Cortez’s methods, stranger or not. His unit appeared to know what it was doing, and the man was right: there would be time for discussion later.

  Casandra was standing in a puddle. “Guys, I think my water just broke.”

  “Are you sure you didn’t piss yourself?” Damon chuckled.

  “Fuck you!” Bernie took a step toward Damon before his good sense took over and he returned his attention to Casandra. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  “We don’t have time for this,” Petrova snapped.

  “Can you make it to the pier?” Aiko asked with urgency. “I have to know now.”

  “I… I think so,” she said. “Bernie, help.” Casandra gripped him hard, trying not to fall. Her legs buckled worse by the minute.

  “I’ll carry you to the damn boat if I have too.” Bernie was struggling.

  Sam slung his rifle and stepped forward. “We’ll do this together, son.” He draped Casandra’s free arm around his neck.

  “Straighten up. We are leaving now,” Petrova said.

  “Knock it off. We’re fine.” Bernie’s ire was growing.

  “She’s right. We’ve already wasted too much time.” Cortez made his way to the exit.

  • • •

  Simon and Ahole stood at the ready, each holding a doorknob and awaiting the signal to swing the barrier open and let the first group depart, the official point of no return.

  Cortez stood facing his crew, checking one last time for loose straps or open pockets, anything that could potentially slow them down. “Remember, no gunfire unless absolutely necessary. Melee weapons only. My team clears the path to the other side of the parking lot. When I give the signal, Petrova will follow. Only engage the carriers if one of them gets in the way. Otherwise, get your asses to the dune as fast as possible. We’ll keep your way clear. This is it, people.” Cortez nodded to his men at the exit.