by C. M. Wright
Hey, don't judge! Where else are we supposed to put them? Can't go out and bury all of 'em, can't live with 'em. They have got to go, one way or another!
Once the entire floor is cleared out, we then begin to empty out the garbage inside the apartments that smell almost as bad as the corpses did. Sandro points out the Krew's apartment, which is fairly easily seen from our higher perch, higher by two floors, but it's enough. The Krew apartment is several blocks away, but with our scopes and high-powered binoculars, we can see the place just fine.
Will decides the apartment with the best view of the Krew's place is where he and I will stay, along with a few of the others he wants in charge of smaller teams.
After the doubts I now have about my shitty judgment call from earlier, I sure as hell hope Will isn't planning to have me lead a team. Maybe I should tell Will I'd rather he find someone else before he announces it, in case that is his plan. Yeah, I'll do that as soon as I can get a minute alone with him. If that ever happens.
Will decides it's time to eat, so we all sit out in the hallway and pass around the jerky, Spam, canned fruit, and water.
Mmm. I really never realized how freaking good Spam is. Bless the person who invented the canned masterpiece.
We talk with the people from the basement and find out more about them and how they ended up in down there. They explained that when the undead uprising started here, things went bad fairly quickly. Not even a full day into the apocalypse, the Krew came into their building and began slaughtering most men and kidnapping almost all the women and children.
Victor had been attempting to retrieve his ninety-six year old mother from her own home just a few blocks away when the Krew came in and stole his family. They killed his sister's husband and left him to reanimate inside Victor's apartment on the fourth floor. To add to his torment, Victor was too late to save his mother. When he found her outside her home eating the neighbor's flesh from his thigh, he left her and fled back to the apartments, his mind unable to deal with any more at the time.
Jessica and Jeff had hidden in their apartment on the second floor, and since the Krew had too many other residents to take care of, the apartments weren't searched as thoroughly as they could have been. It was just plain luck they got away.
Harry, Jackie and their two kids had just returned from a trip out of state. They had been unable to get home when it all began earlier that first day the zombies took over, and had found refuge with an elderly couple. Deciding their apartment on the eighth floor would offer them far more protection than the elderly couples' first floor apartment, and the initial flood of undead had dwindled enough that they thought they had a chance, they started off for home. They'd made it to the end of the lobby and were about to head up the stairs, when they heard the Krew members shooting above them. At first, they didn't know the Krew were here and had assumed the residents were fighting back against the undead; but when they caught a glimpse of the back of a man wearing a black leather jacket with the familiar large “K” sewed on the back, they quickly turned and headed down the stairs.
Kansas City residents knew well who the Krew were, and knew tangling with them meant very bad things, so it didn't take much to convince this family to turn and run. When they reached the lobby, Victor rushed inside the building from the main door, Jessica and Jeff burst out of the door the family had just exited, and Felipe followed them. Behind Victor, the door flooded with zombies and the living residents went the only way they could, to the basement. The basement door was very heavy and quite durable, but even so, if the Krew hadn't stolen the undeads' attention with their yelling and shooting in the upper floors, the zombies probably still could have gotten past the door.
Fortunately for them, zombies have short attention spans and soon forgot about the group that had disappeared behind the basement door when the Krew members chased some of the residents down to the first floor.
Once below, they locked themselves in the storage cages and according to them, the padlock has always been hanging from the door, never locked, and the key has been inside it as long as the lock has been there. The residents had padlocks and keys for their own units, so they were able to get inside the smaller cages for more added protection. As for food and water–
Oh, God! I don't even want to tell you this, it still makes me want to puke up all that lovely food I just ate.
Remember the trash chute? Well, uh... Yeah.
The first week or so, that's what they ate. Then, bored from being stuck down there for so long, they began to break into the other storage cages and found an entire cage filled with an assortment of baby foods and cereals.
They did have access to water though, from a small sink the maintenance and custodian men used, and a microwave - another storage unit find that they used to heat some of the food and cereal up to have a new option for their tortured taste buds, but that didn't last too long. The electricity went out fairly early here.
The last of the baby food had been eaten two days ago, and they were actually about to leave to find more food when they heard us upstairs. Thinking we were the Krew gang again, Felipe planned to scare us off by firing a shot at us when he thought we had discovered their hiding place. Then he got a good look at how many of us there were and decided to give up.
I look around at all the faces of my group and the mixed reactions were comical. Some, like myself, are looking as if they want to vomit, no doubt still thinking about these poor people having to eat from the discarded trash bags. Others range from pity to no expressions at all. Actually, Will is the only one whose expression remains neutral.
Once we finish eating, most everyone scatters to whatever apartments they had claimed for the night, while others stay in the hall and chat. Will heads to the apartment he's claimed for us, so I follow him in a hurry to try to get some alone time with him so we can talk.
“Will?” I call out as I shut and lock the front door to buy us some more time.
I hear him holler out, “Yeah?” from the back of the apartment, so I cross the living room and head down the hall. At the bathroom, I lean against the door frame and watch as he strips off his clothes and uses water from the sink to clean up. I almost ask why he doesn't just jump in the shower but remember in time that there's no hot water. I shiver just thinking how cold that would be.
Will scrubs the lower part of his face with a wet rag and looks up at my reflection in the mirror. “What's up?”
I cross my arms and begin gnawing on my lower lip. I don't want to admit what I'm about to admit, but I have to. Finally, I take a deep breath and meet his eyes in the mirror.
“Will, I can't lead a team tomorrow if you had planned to put me in charge of one. I can't lead a team, ever.”
He pauses with the rag over his eyes for a few moments, then continues to clean himself.
“And why's that?”
I look away from the intensity in his eyes and instead focus on the framed picture next to the toilet that says something about 'being a sweetie and wiping the seatie', though I'm only barely registering it. It's just something to stare at, to focus on, instead of my husband.
“Well... Because... Just can't.” I stammer then roll my eyes at my impressive little speech.
I look back in time to see Will hide a grin, and I feel my temperature rise.
“You know, you might find this funny but I sure as hell don't. Will, when you shot Sandro's plan down, I thought you were wrong. I would have agreed to the plan. Then when you explained why you were against it, I realized how badly I would have screwed up if I had been the one making the call. How many lives I could have lost, how many people I loved who could have been killed!” I swallow back the sob that rises in my throat and beg the tears not to fall.
Shit! Pregnancy hormones suck.
“Honey,” Will begins as he walks toward me. He has his pants back on and stands before me, placing his hands on my shoulders. He leans his face down toward mine and I force myself to meet his eyes again as he con
tinues, “So what? Not everyone is going to always make the right call. How do we know I made the right call? What if sending them back would actually save more people? To be honest with you, if you had agreed to let them follow through, I would have stood behind your decision. You seem to have an instinct about most people that is usually amazing, and shockingly spot on.”
“But I never once thought they might betray us! It never crossed my mind. I should have had our group and their safety as top priority; but instead, I immediately thought it was a great idea. I never even took time to think about it. That gets people killed, Will. People I love. And we both know my instinct can't be trusted anymore.”
I bring my own arms up and grasp his forearms as he moves his hands from my shoulders and places one on each side of my face.
“Please, Will! Please don't put me in charge of a team. I don't trust myself, and if you want to be a good leader, you can't trust me either.”
“Canada, you're a born leader. You always have been. Sure, it drives me crazy that you have to always be in charge, that you have to always be right, and that you have to always have your way; but over the years, do you want to know some things I learned about you?”
His thumbs stroke my cheeks and I feel myself sway toward him. Our lips are so close to touching, I can feel the soft air of his breath. My eyelids are open just enough that I can see the intense burning fire in his own.
“What?” I ask, the one word coming out as a soft breathy whisper.
“You always have to be in charge because you're strong and independent. You're almost always right, because you're smart and can see solutions to problems faster than most people can. You have to have things done your way because it's not usually what's best for you that you base your demands on, but of others needs and safety. Since we met, you've never asked for anything that was unreasonable or frivolous. Back before I knew better, in the beginning of our relationship, you refused and got angry when I would buy you jewelry, and instead requested things that would actually serve a real purpose, so you know what's important for survival and getting things done. You fight for those you love, and you don't back down. You don't trust easily, aside from a certain asshole I won't mention now, but when you do trust someone, you still reserve a good part of that trust. You never give anyone your entire trust.
And I know, as sure as I know my own name, that if you had been the one to have to make the call with Sandro, even if you agreed immediately with his plan, you wouldn't have let them leave right away. You would have thought of nothing else until you were sure it was the right thing to do, or were sure it wasn't. If it wasn't, you would have told them they weren't going and walked away without even giving them an explanation, because as far as you're concerned, no one should ever question your decisions. You will do what's right for the majority. The confidence that you had in yourself and in your decisions was so strong, that people were afraid to argue with you. You fully made them believe that you can see and understand the situation much better than they can. And more often than not, you did. You have to get that back, babe. Don't let one bad call ruin who you are.”
His lips finally press against mine, so softly, too softly.
“Oh, Will,” I whisper against his lips. Then I sigh and pull away so that I can see his face more clearly and look him in the eye. In a much stronger voice, I tell him, “You're so full of shit.”
He lets loose a thunderous laugh and pulls me into a tight hug. Then he lifts me in his arms and carries me to a neatly-made bed, where we take advantage of some time alone.
Chapter Six
Pounding at the door an hour later causes us both to groan as we're just about to drift off. Will gets out of bed and I pull the blankets over my head, burrowing deeper into the mattress. Will slaps me on the ass and laughs when I growl at him.
“Get up. We have a lot of work to do.” He jerks the blankets off me and the chill in the room immediately settles on my naked skin. “Let's go!”
With another stinging smack on my now bare ass, he walks out of the room fully dressed and closes the door before letting the others inside the apartment. I get up, albeit with a lot of bitching and grumbling, and stumble to find all of my clothes. I then go into the master bathroom and clean up, though I shriek when the icy watered washcloth touches my skin.
Dressed and a bit cleaner, I leave the bedroom and emerge into a room that is stinking of testosterone. The men have set up their surveillance at the window and I squeeze between them to get where I can see too.
If Will is going to make me do this, then I better learn what I can.
Bringing the scope of a rifle to my eye, I find the apartment the Krew have taken over. I can see movement at quite a few windows, and a group of men are standing together outside the building on the ground. Some of the balconies have men on them as well.
Just men. No women or kids anywhere.
I look around at some of the other buildings and am startled when I see a man and a woman watching the Krew building through their own binoculars. I nudge Will to get his attention and point them out to him.
“Well, what do we have here?” Will mumbles as he continues to watch the couple as they watch the Krew.
“Will, do you think they're planning to do the same thing we are? Do you think they're going to attack the Krew like we plan to do? We should try to make contact and help each other. We don't want to kill each other if we have the same end goal of defeating that damn gang.”
Will lowers the scope but keeps his eyes on the couple. “Yeah.”
He's definitely distracted when he answers me, and I know he's already making plans on how he's going to attempt to make contact.
I back off and leave him to his plans, and begin to pull on my coat, gloves and boots. Finally, he turns from the window and notices me waiting by the door, gun slung over my shoulder, ammo bag hanging from the other. My arms are crossed at my chest and I raise a brow at his astonished look.
“So what's it gonna be, big boy?” I give him a smirk and a gust of air bursts from his mouth as he runs his hand over his head.
“I'm not going to be able to leave your ass behind, am I?” he mumbles.
“Not in this lifetime,” I respond and cross my still aching foot in front of the other.
He glares at me for several seconds before calling to the others to get ready. The room goes from calm and relaxed to a flurry of organized chaos as everyone throws on their coats, boots, guns and ammo. Before long, the room fills with deadly soldiers where family and friends once stood. I look at each of them and pride fills me, giving me chills and goosebumps.
These people? These are my people.
I move away from the door and we file out into the hall, where Will begins to inform us all of what his plans are. Apparently, the ones of us who had been in the room with him will be going to try to attempt peaceful contact with the couple we saw watching the Krew. The others will stay behind and keep watching the building holding the gang and the hostages. Will instructs them to take note of their movements to see if there is a scheduled pattern. Sandro and his group insist the Krew stick to a rotating schedule, but considering the main leaders are all away, we need to make sure they aren't slacking off.
Sandro lowers his head to think it over, but in the end, he nods his agreement. We're wished luck and told to be safe by the people staying behind as we head out.
The adrenaline rush begins as we near the doors that lead outside. I feel it begin in my stomach, and then the tingle spreads to my face, making my cheeks itch. I rub my hand over my face and allow the tingle to spread to my scalp, before moving to my arms, hands, legs and feet.
My heartbeat speeds up and I breathe through it until it settles into a still faster than normal, but steadier pace. We exit the doors and soft pings sound around me as undead are taken down by the silenced guns.
Will leads us to the back of the building we'd seen the couple on the roof of and eventually locate a door that is easily opened to allow us a
ccess. Silently, we make our way through the back hall with several flashlights on to make it easier to see and stay quiet. We reach the lobby and find the stairs, where we slowly make our way up. A few more pings are heard, and bodies crumble to the floor. A few bodies fall down the stairs toward us and we silently push each other back to give them the space they need, but even so, some of us are still slapped by a lifeless hand as it passes by or kicked by a wildly flung foot.
When we reach the door with a sign reading ROOF, Will waits until we are all up on the landing before crouching down and easing the door open, motioning for us all to get down. His warning, although sweet, was wasted as we had already hunkered down out of the line of fire. My head begins to get a little fuzzy with terror when I see my husband's dark form disappear out the door, and I have to fight against myself to not push everyone out of my way so that I can keep an eye on him.
Finally, my turn comes to exit and the breath leaves me for a split second when I see Will and the others hidden behind a large metal box, which I can only assume holds an air conditioning unit or something similar. Once we are all out of the building and caught up with the rest of the group, Will nods to us and begins to stand with his arms up. We follow him as he rises and level our guns to the couple who have their backs to us.
“Don't shoot, we just want to talk to you,” Will softly calls out.
The couple turn so fast with their guns up and ready to shoot, that I instantly know they could be a very good asset, or a very bad enemy. I'm hoping for the former, but know it can go either way much too easily.
The couple stare at us for several moments, and Will gives them time to adjust to seeing us before he says, “We are not part of that group you've been watching. We're a peaceful group, who just want to survive and help others survive. We saw you watching the Krew's building and just want to know if we all have the same goal?”
The man's eyes narrow as he studies Will, then slowly moves over the rest of us. The woman remains frozen in her stance, the gun unwavering in her steady hands. Her eyes are locked onto Will, but I have no doubt that she can fire at any one of us in a split second. Both are wearing camouflaged coats, gloves, overalls and knitted hats that can be pulled down over their faces. I see a hint of blond hair peeking out of the woman's hat across her forehead, but the rest of her hair is hidden underneath the knitted material.