“Which sister?” Rafe bit out, his voice an icicle directed toward Smith.
“Ma...Ma....Maxine,” Smith stammered.
“Max? Where is she? Did you hurt her?” Rafe said, pushing his boot against the man’s groin. Smith involuntarily shrunk back and grimaced.
“I don’t know where she is. She escaped!” Smith cried out.
“You didn’t answer the last question. Did you hurt her?”
“I....I....”
“Smith, what in the hell is happening here?” The leading soldier bellowed. He had opened the door and found Rafe stepping on Smith’s genitals.
“Sir, he...he attacked me!”
“We were just having a friendly conversation,” Rafe said, nothing friendly about his voice. He also didn’t remove his foot from Smith’s groin region.
“Sit back down, Duncan!” The soldier yelled.
“Nope. I want to know where in the hell my sister is and what this prick did to her.”
The sigh from the soldier was full of annoyance. The truck shifted as he climbed in. With no one else in the truck, it was easy for him to strike Rafe for the third time in the head. This time Rafe didn’t have a choice, his world went black again. The last thing he saw was Max’s face. But it wasn’t the face he knew and loved. It was the face of an infected.
Rafe couldn’t tell how long he had been out this time. He awoke to chaos. The barrage of bullets woke him with a start. He was lying face first on the floor of the cargo truck. The door was wide open, and he was alone. That was the first thing that struck him as strange. They left him alone. And he wasn’t tied up in any other way. His arms starting at his shoulders down to his fingertips were numb, telling him he’d been laying that way for quite some time.
More shots sounded outside and Rafe realized again that it was bullets that had woken him. He tried to turn himself, but he had to squeeze his eyes shut against the pain lancing through his skull. He looked around at the benches in the truck and quickly found a sharp edge on one. Working slowly to not make himself vomit, he moved into a sitting position, with the duct tape on his wrists aimed at the sharp edge.
He tried to work as quickly as he could. From the shouts he was hearing outside of the truck, they were dealing with a horde of infected. He doubted the soldiers were concerned with keeping him alive now. With no weapons and his arms behind his back, he was an easy take-out meal. He could feel the sharp metal cutting into the duct tape. He continued to saw until he felt the tape give.
Then needing to deal with the zip tie, Rafe stood and performed the same maneuver he had done earlier, breaking the tie after a few tries. His arms now free, Rafe bent at the waist and began to vomit onto the truck floor. He couldn’t hold back the pain and vertigo he was experiencing from the head wounds. Once his stomach was empty and he was gasping for air, he realized he heard a different pandemonium outside now.
Yelling voices reached Rafe’s ears. Voices he knew. He was beginning to think his mind was playing tricks on him, his concussion-causing some sort of hallucinations. Putting aside what he thought he was hearing, he began to search the truck. In the front seat where the leader had been sitting, he found his weapons. Feeling lucky at the moment, Rafe took the time to strap everything on. He wasn’t going to get eaten by the infected and he sure as hell wasn’t getting taken by the soldiers again. He would kill every single one of them.
The sound of gunfire began to slow until it was only voices outside now. Rafe couldn’t mistake them now. He pulled his 9mm and stepped to the open door of the truck. The soldiers fighting a horde was an understatement in Rafe’s mind. When he looked out he couldn’t count the number of infected heads outside of the truck. Luckily none of them knew he was inside.
Some were on the ground, tearing into the flesh of the soldiers they had taken down. Closest to the truck was the leader of the team. It almost seemed like he was running for the truck when the infected began to consume his meat, his arm was outstretched toward Rafe. The infected tore his flesh from his bones, shoving muscle, skin, and gore into their mouths. Some bent with their faces pressed against exposed places where the man’s uniform had been torn. Rafe just stared, without much idea of the next steps to take.
Many of the infected seemed to wander away from the truck and Rafe could hear fighting still happening. But it was silent, the sounds of chopping and cracking of bone could be heard. Every once in a while, a lone shot would sound out, but the majority of the fight was quiet. Over the sea of infected, Rafe could finally see in the sunlight. And what he saw brought his entire life into focus.
Both of his sisters fought, side by side, killing every infected that came near them. Rafe could see Max’s tomahawk fly as she wielded it with deadly precision. And his older sister, Alex, had a machete. Rafe had to smile at her choice of weapon. Only Alex would find something exotic and use it during the zombie apocalypse. There was a man fighting with them as well. Rafe couldn’t be sure who it was, but he was clearly on their side.
A small blonde head pulled his attention from his family. Charlie was outside the truck they were driving, fighting the infected with all she had. His sisters were watching her, he could see them glancing her way often. Rafe could see she was wielding the crowbar she had from the beginning.
Seeing her fighting the infected gave Rafe a start and he could no longer stand in the shadows and watch. He pulled his own 9mm and shot the first few infected that were near the truck. The sound pulled the attention of some of the nearby infected, who turned in Rafe’s direction. He was fine with that. He was primed for a fight after what he had been through that day. He jumped from the truck and immediately stooped to grab the rifle one of the soldiers had dropped. With a quick pull of the trigger, he knew there was still some ammo.
For safety, he shot away from his family, not wanting a stray bullet to strike someone. The noise he was making brought more infected his way. He easily took them down with the rifle. When it clicked empty, he pulled his hunting knife and started the dance with the undead. Minutes passed as the bodies continued to fall. Rafe took a few moments to pull his throwing knives and using them with deadly accuracy. He whirled and moved as blood and black gore flew from the infected near him.
Rafe was left, heaving for breath, in the middle of infected bodies everywhere on the asphalt. He looked over to his family and saw his sisters ending the last few infected that were in the horde. Now seeing them laying around, Rafe didn’t believe there were any less than fifty infected. The soldiers weren’t prepared to handle them, as he could also see the bodies of them laying around. He tried to count, but he thought one was missing. That was a concern.
However, first, he needed his sisters. The three locked eyes over the sea of infected bodies. Even at the distance they were at, he saw Alex’s eyes fill with tears and Max smile like a lunatic. Immediately the three of them moved, stepping on the bodies in their way until they met in the middle. His sisters threw their arms around him, Alex at his neck and Max at his middle. He awkwardly tried to hug them back without them all tumbling into the disgusting gore that was across the ground.
“I can’t believe we found you,” Alex said, her voice full of tears.
“I can. He left breadcrumbs,” Max replied sarcastically.
“You found my message,” Rafe said.
“It was hard to miss,” Alex replied.
Suddenly remembering soldier Smith, Rafe pulled back from his sisters. He looked at Max and gasped when he saw the greenish, yellow bruises on her face. She cradled one hand and he almost saw red when he realized it was broken.
“That son of a bitch, where is he?” Rafe said, spinning around.
He moved around the infected dead looking at the dead soldiers. His sisters followed him, confusion on their faces. Grabbing the first soldier that he found, he flipped him over. Alex couldn’t hide her gasp behind him because the infected had ripped most of the face off of the soldier. Looking down at the bloody mess, Rafe knew it wasn’t Smith. He moved o
n to the next.
“Rafe, wait. What is it? What are you looking for?” Alex called as she tried to catch up to him.
“Smith, I need to find that weasel,” Rafe called over his shoulder.
When his sister didn’t answer, he turned to look at them. Max was frozen still and the man that Rafe hadn’t recognized was reaching for her. Seeing the fear on her face made Rafe even more angry that he turned and continued to the next soldier. After searching he realized there were only five bodies. And the one missing was Smith.
“You saw Smith?” Max asked quietly.
“Little weasel soldier that was too small to look like an adult? Yeah, he was in the group that took me. But his body isn’t here. He got away,” Rafe replied.
He looked at the man standing with Max, his arm protectively around her. And it dawned on Rafe who the man was.
“Griffin?” Rafe said, surprise on his face.
“Yeah. Hi, Rafe. Long time,” Griffin said as he held out his hand for Rafe to shake.
“Rafe?” Charlie’s voice came from behind him.
He spun and looked at the small woman that he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. His vision swam a little and the pain was starting to return as the adrenaline drained from his body. Charlie must have seen the change because she automatically reached for him. Rafe took it as a sign that she wanted to hug him again and he wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek on her head.
“You found my sisters,” he said.
“Well, no. They found me.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
It was then that something bumped into Rafe’s legs and he jumped away from Charlie to reach for his weapons. The small bark brought his attention down to man’s best friend that was waiting for his acknowledgment. Rafe immediately dropped to his knees. He hadn’t been able to see Storm during the fight. The dog had clearly done his job because he was filthy.
“There’s my good boy! You went home like I told you to. Good boy,” Rafe said as he rubbed Storm’s head where it wasn’t wet with bodily fluid. The dog reached forward and licked his face.
“He did. Him coming home without you was what set us off to find you. He was a little sore, but ready to fight” Charlie said.
“Yeah, he took a couple of kicks before I sent him back to you.”
Rafe tried to stand up, but he wavered. Sitting back on his knees, he took some deep breaths. Charlie made her way behind him and she cursed. Rafe tried to turn and look at her because he rarely heard her use foul language. She pushed his head back, so she could look at his wounds.
“You are a mess. How many damn times did they hit you?” Charlie asked.
“Uh, three I think? Twice where I passed out.”
“You are bleeding all over yourself. I might need to stitch you up.”
“Oh good, I’ll owe you again,” Rafe replied sarcastically.
“How do you feel?” Alex said as she stepped over to see what Charlie was looking at.
“A little woozy. And my head is starting to hurt again.”
Rafe could hear Charlie murmuring to Alex. Alex walked away and the next thing Rafe knew, Griffin was hauling him to his feet.
“It’s all good, man, lean on me,” Griffin said.
Rafe didn’t have much of a choice. As soon as he was on his feet again, his head swam, and he could barely see where the ground was to put his feet on it. Griffin had to practically drag him to their truck. Once there, Charlie climbed into the back and helped Rafe sit and lay on his stomach. She wanted the wound available to her, so she could work.
“Rafe, I’m going to drive the military truck. We could use it back home,” Alex said, looking into the Bronco from the back.
Rafe didn’t answer, just murmured in agreement. Any additional heavy-duty vehicles would be useful. He was glad he was with his sisters. They could think while he couldn’t. They could make sure their family was taken care of while he couldn’t think straight. While he let those thoughts flow through his mind, Alex reached in and ran her hand over his face.
“I was worried about you, brother,” she said softly.
Rafe reached up and took her hand and pressed it against his cheek.
“I’m sorry. I wanted to protect you.”
“They came anyway. We handled it.”
“Did you kill them?” Rafe asked.
“Some.”
Rafe felt sadness flow over him. He knew Alex would feel that pain the heaviest.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying that. You’re my brother. I love you. I would do anything to protect you,” Alex said. She leaned down and kissed his cheek.
“I know. It’s just, this is so much worse than you realize.”
“Charlie told us what she has. With what she has and what Max knows, we’ve put a lot of it together. You did the right thing protecting her.”
Suddenly Rafe lifted his head before Charlie pushed him back down.
“Aiden! Where’s Aiden?” He exclaimed.
“Shhhh, it’s ok,” Charlie smoothed her hand over the area where his head wasn’t injured.
“He’s probably at the compound by now. We sent him with Marcus,” Alex replied.
“Marcus?”
“Another story, brother.”
“We have so much to talk about,” Rafe said.
“We have time. Rest now. Let Charlie fix you up,” Alex said, closing the tailgate of the Bronco.
Rafe fought hard to keep his eyes open. Dizziness continued to wash over him in waves and he was worried that he would throw up again. That idea made him chuckle.
“There really isn’t anything funny right now, Rafe,” Charlie said.
“Wait till Alex figures out I puked in that truck,” Rafe replied.
Charlie let out a light laugh at that and the sound warmed Rafe. Laying on his stomach, he couldn’t look at her, but he could see her hands fussing with medical supplies. He reached up and took one of her hands and pulled it to him. He kissed her knuckles lightly. Her breath hitched and Rafe wished he could see her face.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“You’re sorry? For what?” Charlie asked.
“I should have listened to you. Not left and gone into town.”
“Well it’s not like I had a good reason, just a feeling,” Charlie replied.
“If I had listened to that feeling, we wouldn’t be all the way out here. And you wouldn’t be patching me up again.”
“Patching you up is better than finding your body,” Charlie said. Her fingers threaded with his, cradling their hands in her lap.
Rafe squeezed Charlie’s hand again before she let go to work on his wound. She poured disinfectant across the gash and Rafe hissed at the burn. Whispered words of sorry and comfort came from Charlie and Rafe just wanted to wrap his arms around her. Her soft voice lulled him. While he knew that he shouldn’t fall asleep, he couldn’t stop the blackness as it swallowed him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Max
Seeing Rafe resting peacefully gave Max some solace after what she had been through. She raised her eyebrow at Charlie when she saw them holding hands, but she fought the urge to say anything. When all she wanted to do was yell “I knew it!” She was happy to see her brother finding someone to care about. Charlie had already proven her feelings for Rafe by putting herself in harm's way to save him. Just as Max would do the same for Griffin if the roles were different.
Griffin stood off to the side waiting for Max. She went to him and laid her head on his shoulder.
“Smith,” Griffin said.
“Smith,” Max repeated.
“He’s out there. I found a trail leading away from the road,” Griffin said. He motioned toward the woods with his chin.
“He’ll go back to Callahan. Tell him everything,” Max replied.
“What do you want to do?”
Max thought about his question. What did she want to do? She couldn’t even be sure that she would make the right choice wi
th everything she had been through. Fear lanced through her when she thought about Callahan having any more information about her or her family. He would know now that they were together. He would send more soldiers to their home.
“We have to track him down,” Max finally said.
Griffin nodded and went to reload his weapons. Max went back to the Bronco where Charlie was dressing Rafe’s wound. She lowered the tailgate again carefully.
“We need to track down the solider that’s missing. Can Storm help with that?” Max asked.
The dog was sitting outside the truck, waiting for his companions to make a move. At the sound of his name, his ears twitched. He jumped to put his paws on the back bumper of the truck. Max could clearly see his gaze on Rafe and if she wasn’t imagining things the dog looked concerned.
“We’ve never had him track anyone. But he’s proven to be trained in a number of things,” Charlie replied.
“Will he go with us?”
Charlie seemed to think about that for a moment before looking at the dog.
“I think if I give him the command to follow you, he will. He’s good at giving warnings when the living or the dead are nearby.”
Max nodded and waited for Charlie to talk to the dog. She rubbed his ears and head, letting him know they were all proud of him. Then she pointed to Max and told him to follow. As Max moved away from the truck, the dog heeled easily and seemed to be waiting for his orders. The pair met with Griffin again at the edge of the woods. He was kneeling down near footprints he had found in the softer soil.
“See here, these are pointed out of the forest, unlike the others from the infected when they were coming out. The infected wouldn’t have gone backward,” Griffin explained, pointing to what he was looking at.
Max agreed with his findings and they started to walk into the forest. A call from Alex stopped Max in her tracks.
Alive (Sundown Series Book 3) Page 28