But eventually he closed his eyes and seemed to be resting peacefully. She grabbed the end of his sheets and cleaned herself up with them, then slowly tried to climb over his body without disturbing him. When she put her clothes on, he began to stir.
He propped himself up on his elbow and grinned. "Where are you going?"
"Oh, uh... just going to relax for the evening," she said cautiously.
"What's wrong with relaxing with me?"
"Nothing. I just... thought you needed some rest."
He yawned. "Yeah, I could probably use it. I'll let you get going."
After he gave her his blessing, she turned to leave, but he stopped her again before she opened the door.
"Where's my goodbye kiss?"
She turned back to him and he was waiting on his elbow, that cheesy grin still stapled to his face. He squeezed his lips together in an expectant pose and waited. She slowly crossed the room and leaned down, giving him a quick peck on the lips.
"Sarah..." he said. "Come on, what was that? I want a real kiss." The control and manipulation swirled in his eyes like a maelstrom.
She hesitated, but she leaned down again and paused at his lips, letting him take what he wanted. And this time his kiss was slow and passionate, deep and tender, like the first time they had kissed. She came up from it a little surprised.
"Hey," he said, making his eyes as big and love-struck as possible. "I love you."
She nearly choked on the words: "I love you, too."
And with that, she left without hearing anything else from him. As soon as she was in the hallway and shut the door, she broke down and cried. The magnitude of everything that just happened totally overwhelmed her and she squatted down on the spot, holding her face in her knees.
The hallway was empty and she was thankful for that. Before anyone came along, she got up and headed for her bed, holding a hand up to her face the entire time and making it look like she was scratching an itchy eye, in case anyone saw her. She threw herself onto her bed and sobbed, burying her face in her pillow. It took a long time for her to calm herself down and rest.
Suddenly, her curtain was thrown open.
She shot up in bed, her body switching into pure defensive mode.
It was Barry.
"Sarah!" he whispered, jerking his head to the side.
"What?" She was still panicked and her heart was in a flurry.
"He's gone!"
With those two words alone, her whole body went still. She knew what that meant, and she knew it was now or never.
She sprung out of bed. "Okay, I'll go get it," she said.
"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked.
"No. It might attract too much attention. Just wait for me up here and I'll come right back."
"Okay," he said.
"Where did Noah go?" she asked before she left.
"He's down in the bunker. I have a feeling he might be there for a while!"
"Okay, I'll be right back!"
She moved along the aisle in the dorm in something between a run and a trot, slowing and walking normally when she reached the hallway.
Just as Barry said, the office door was open, and she casually walked by it to confirm that it was empty. It was.
Barry sauntered over to the lounge and hung around just inside the doorway, pretending to read a message pinned to a corkboard.
Sarah turned and speed-walked down to the other end of the hallway and came out the door at the bottom of the stairs. She didn't want to be seen, and she hugged the side of the building as she went, keeping her head down and letting the darkness of the night do the rest.
When she passed the corner of the main building, she saw that the hatch to the underground bunker was open. There weren't many people around topside other than the occasional guard or resident, all of them minding their own business.
She went into the shed and moved the shelf and panel, and slipped through the loose sheet metal. She ran into the woods, knowing that time was short. When she arrived at the partially-uprooted tree where she hid the duffle bag, she pulled it out from underneath and unzipped it.
It was empty.
At first, her brain couldn't understand what her eyes were seeing. But she was aware she was looking into a black bag in the dark, and so she stuffed her hand inside and patted around for the explosives.
When she came up empty, she started to panic.
"Don't move," Wayne said.
She froze with her hand still in the bag.
"Stand up slowly and take your hand out."
She did as he said.
"Turn around."
She faced him and saw he was pointing a gun at her head. It was a .50-caliber Desert Eagle, and his finger was wrapped around the trigger. She knew he had no hesitation to pull.
"Noah would like a word," he said.
23
FUNERAL MARCH
As Wayne brought her around to the front gates, all she could think of was Chopin's "Funeral March". She played it in her head, slowly but forcefully. It had always been her favorite—somehow always felt like her destiny. She was surprisingly calm as the guards opened the gates and Wayne led her in. He holstered his gun so he didn't draw attention from anyone around, but he walked behind her, ready for it if she tried anything.
But she didn't want to try anything. She was filled with an odd serenity, despite her circumstances; it was like being in the eye of a storm.
She was walked up the stairs and Wayne told her to open the door and head to Noah's office.
Noah stood inside, facing her. His face was expressionless. And behind him was Barry on his knees.
She walked into the office, offering Barry an apologetic look, and Wayne shut the door behind them.
At first, no one talked. Noah walked up to her and brushed his hand against her face, letting it run down her neck and over her blouse. She shivered in disgust from the feeling of his skin against hers. He ran his hand down over the edge of her breast, then down her stomach and to her leg. She stared at the covered window as he touched her, trying not to move. He ran his hand around the back of her leg and past her butt, coming up her back.
"Hmm." He wound up his arm and punched her in the face.
She reeled back and stumbled into the wall, seeing stars.
"Oh, leave her alone, you son of a bitch!" Barry yelled. "Pick on someone your own size!"
"Shut up," Noah said. He walked over to him and kicked him in the face. Barry spun around and hit the floor face-first, and Sarah saw that his hands were tied behind his back. His nose scrunched up against the floor as blood poured out of it, and he rolled around grunting in pain.
Sarah regained her balance and remained near the wall, shrinking away from Noah as he turned his attention back to her. The fear of pain was a powerful motivator, and all the calmness she felt on her final march to his office was gone, replaced with frantic, primal fear. He shoved her against the wall and she took the blow and whimpered.
"I can't fucking believe you," he said, pressing his forehead to hers. His hot breath poured across her face and made her skin crawl. "I've been nothing but gracious to you. I rescued you; I took you in; I offered you a safe place to live and gave you an opportunity to work with us at the highest level. And for what?" He squeezed her cheeks with his hand. "Huh? Why, Sarah?"
She leaned against the wall and cried, drool dripping down from her contorted mouth. She knew she was going to die, and facing her own death was something that couldn't be imagined until she was confronted with it. She'd encountered almost certain death before at the carnival, and it never got easier. But the Grim Reaper took on many forms; Noah was simply the latest.
"Answer me, you bitch!" He held her by the throat and slapped her across the face. The cheek where he had punched her was already tender and started to swell, and the slap made it sting twice as hard.
"Stop!" she whimpered. "Please..."
"You have no idea what I've done here!" Noah yelled. "You don't ha
ve the first clue how hard I had to fight to get to where we are today! Look around you, Sarah! We have strong walls, we have food, we have every other essential item you could need! Nobody has to worry about zombies anymore! And now that I've taken out Zed and Delroy, nobody has to worry about them anymore, either! Don't you get it? I'm giving you everything and you want to blow me up? Fucking blow me up, of all things?!"
He smacked her across the other cheek with the back of his hand and her head rolled around like a bobble-head toy.
"You're the same as the others!" she croaked.
"The same?!" he yelled. "Look around you! I'm the only one left standing! And after I wipe out the bandits, nobody will have to worry about attacks ever again! How can you not get this through your stupid head?"
"Oh, shut up," she said, finding her courage.
He eased up on his grip. "What did you say to me?"
She held onto his hand, trying to pry it away from her throat a little to breathe. "You're nothing but a tyrant," she said. "I saw what you had done at Zed's. I saw your men murder innocent people. You order them to kill husbands, fathers, mothers, children... while you stay here like a chicken, letting them do your work for you. You're not even a man. You're just a little boy who wants to rule the world." Her throat was dry, but she managed to work up just enough saliva. She aimed carefully and spit in his face.
He closed his eyes and felt her saliva drip down from his nose to his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and used the corner of his shirtsleeve to dry his eyes. He opened them again and composed himself, then he drove his knee into her stomach, letting go of her throat and allowing her to collapse on the ground.
She crawled around on the floor and gasped for air. He stalked her and kicked her in the stomach, knocking her over as the edges of her vision dimmed and turned to static. She raised her head and looked up at Wayne. "Help..."
Wayne stood by the door with his arms folded. He stared down at her but ignored her plea.
"You really think he's going to help you?" Noah asked, pacing around her in a semicircle.
"I know you're not like him," she rasped. "Please..."
But again, Wayne was unswayed.
Noah picked her up as she began to catch her breath, and he put her back against the wall for support, changing his method and being gentle with her.
"Wayne and I started this place together," Noah said. "Everything I've done, he's done. He's not going to do a damn thing for you." He held his hand on her throat again, but he didn't squeeze this time. "You know what? I'm glad your kid got eaten by zombies. I'm glad I got to see it, too. The little shit probably deserved it, knowing you."
His words struck her harder than his limbs ever could. A dark cloud of pain and rage came over her and she went crazy and lashed out at him.
He laughed and batted away her attacks with his free hand while his grip tightened around her throat with the other one.
She buried her chin into the webbing of his hand between his thumb and forefinger to relieve some of the pressure on her throat, and she caught his free hand out of the air. She held onto it, and as he tried to pull it away, she pressed the fingernails on her other hand to his face and slashed them downward with all her strength. They dug through his flesh and caused instant trails of blood to form on the surface.
He winced at the sharp pain and stumbled backward, letting her go. "You bitch!" he said, seeing the blood on his hand after pressing it to his face. He lunged at her, but one of her knees found its way to his testicles. He howled in pain and staggered around the room in a miserable crouch-walk, cradling his genitals.
Sarah took the time to press Wayne again, who still stood at the edge of the room, unmoved by either side of the conflict. "I saw you there at the warehouse!"
He turned his head toward her, curious about what she was getting at.
"I saw the look on your face!" she cried. "I know you didn't want to do that! I know you're not—"
Noah lifted her off her feet in a vicious tackle and sent them both crashing onto his bed. He straddled her and began hammering on her face with his fists. She weaved her head and held her arms up, trying to deflect the blows, but some of them made contact. His blows were too vicious and fast for her and he was wearing down her defenses.
Wayne watched with curiosity, but still he did nothing to intervene.
Noah suddenly screamed in pain.
Barry had gotten up to his knees and made his way to the bed. His chest leaned against the edge of it as his teeth sunk down right through Noah's jeans and into his leg.
Noah backhanded him across the face out of instinct, and he fell onto the floor. Noah got off Sarah and walked over to him, enraged. He lifted his leg up high and stomped down onto Barry's calf.
His tibia bone fractured and he cried out in pain.
"Wayne, stop this!" Sarah cried.
Noah jumped back on top of her and continued to beat her.
"Okay, Noah, that's enough," Wayne said at last. Noah ignored him, so he walked up and threw Noah onto the floor.
Noah shot up to his feet and stared at him in utter confusion, the biggest look of betrayal on his face. "What are you doing?" he asked him.
Wayne stood his ground. "I can't do it anymore, mate."
Barry continued to roll on the floor, his body convulsing from the overwhelming pain, and Sarah lay on the bed, a battered mess, but still conscious.
"Are you kidding me?" Noah said. "You're siding with her?"
"I'm not siding with you. Not anymore. I've done too many things for too long, all in the name of your vision. Unspeakable things, Noah."
"Don't tell me about unspeakable!" Noah yelled. "You knew damn well what you were doing the whole time!"
"I did," Wayne retorted. "And I let you push me. You're like a poison... slowly corrupting everything around you. Sarah's right: we're no better than the bandits, for God's sake."
Noah's breathing became heavy as he tried to control his anger. "Wayne, I'm going to give you one chance."
He belted out laughter. "Or what?"
Noah glanced at his Sig Sauer that was sitting on his desk a few steps away, then he looked back at Wayne, sizing him up.
Wayne's hand drifted over to his Desert Eagle holstered on his hip, his fingers floating above it. "Is that how you want to play this?"
Noah nodded. "Yeah, why not?" he said defiantly.
"A poli-sci student taking on a Marine in a gunfight? Really..."
"I know how to shoot," Noah said.
"And who taught you?"
They looked at each other bitterly. Wayne could see every minute shift of his eyes that gave away what his muscles would do next.
Noah went for it, grabbing the gun off the table and starting to aim it.
Wayne put a bullet in his hand before he could even raise his arm, then he fired another one in his knee.
The force of the .50-caliber Action Express bullet knocked Noah's hand back and the Sig Sauer flew out of it, bouncing off the wall and sliding under the bed. His knee gave out and he fell to the ground, leaning back on his knees and yelling in pain.
Wayne shook his head as he stared down at Noah's sad figure. He felt pity for him... pity for the friendship that they used to have.
Sarah got up from the bed, feeling like she'd been hit by a train. She went over to Barry and checked on him. His breathing was shallow and quick, and aside from the broken leg, he was doing okay. The pain was hard for him to take, but he was working through it.
Wayne aimed his handgun at Noah's head. Noah settled down and stared at him with weary eyes. "If you want to get a few shots in, Sarah, get them in now."
She walked over to Wayne and looked down at Noah.
"I... I love you," Noah said to her with pleading eyes.
But it had the opposite effect than he intended, and she felt her rage swell up in her. It was the perfectly framed picture to fully demonstrate his manipulation, even in the pathetic and final state that he was in.
He had covered his face with an arm and braced for the impact, and when she didn't deliver, he slowly let his guard down, thinking she'd had a change of heart.
"He's not worth the blood on my shoe," she said.
"Suit yourself," Wayne said and took aim again.
Noah stared up at the barrel of the gun, afraid and disoriented. His hands were leaning back by his feet, fidgeting with something.
"Goodbye Noah," Wayne said.
"Fuck you both," Noah said. He pulled a knife out from under his pant leg and threw himself at Wayne, aiming for his thigh.
Wayne adjusted his aim as he stepped back and opened fire. Four bullets buried into Noah as he stepped out of the way of his momentum. They struck him in the stomach, chest, throat, and the top of his head, and his body was already dead before it hit the floor, lying there like a sack of meat and bleeding out of all the holes Wayne put in him.
The door to the office burst open suddenly and Kenny ran in, followed by a dozen men clustering in the hallway outside, all carrying assault rifles. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded. He looked past Wayne and saw Noah's dead body lying on the floor, clearly shot to death, then he saw the handgun at Wayne's side.
Kenny pointed his rifle at him. "What did you do?!"
"Calm down, Kenny."
"You killed him, you son of a bitch!" he yelled. "Drop it on the ground!"
Wayne let go of the gun and it clattered on the tile. Sarah stood in the corner, terrified.
"Put 'em up!" Kenny yelled.
Wayne slowly raised his left hand while he reached behind his back with his right. He pulled his right hand out into view and held up a detonator.
Kenny's eyes widened.
"Put down your guns now," Wayne said.
"Bullshit," Kenny snapped. "You're bluffing!"
He pointed at the desk and Kenny looked, cautiously walking over to it while keeping his rifle pointed at him. He crouched down and looked under it, seeing the C-4 attached to the underside, clear as day.
Zombie Apocalypse Series (Book 2): A Rising Tide Page 22