Dead South | Book 4 | Dead Love

by Bohannon, Zach

  "Lock the door behind me and stay in the corner!" Brooke turned and raced out of the room.

  "Mom, wait!" Lucas said, but Brooke kept going.

  She made it halfway down the stairs, careful not to make too much noise, and looked towards the front door. A man lay on his stomach in a pool of his own blood, not moving.

  "Get off me!"

  Brooke looked over to the couch and saw Terrence struggling with a second man. She could see in Terrence's face how painful it was for him because of his injuries. The man pushed Terrence away, back into a wall. Then, he drew a knife from his waist and lunged.

  Brooke didn't hesitate. She raised her pistol, aimed, and fired off three rounds. It was risky shooting toward Terrence, but she had no other choice.

  Fortunately, she missed her friend. Two of the bullets went into the intruder's back, sending him to the ground.

  A sense of shock came over Brooke with realizing what she'd done, but within a couple of seconds, she raised the gun back up, ready to protect herself in case some other attacker was in the house. She'd seen nobody else, but there was no guarantee that only these two men had come in. Keeping her guard up, she walked to the bottom of the stairs and then made her way over to Terrence.

  When she was almost to him, the back door opened in the kitchen. She aimed the gun in that direction and watched as Jon and Raylon entered the living room. Jon raised his hands.

  "It's just us."

  Brooke lowered the weapon. "Did you see anybody else in here?" she asked Terrence.

  Having slid down to the ground, his back against the wall, Terrence shook his head.

  "We took care of two men outside," Jon said. "I think we got them all."

  "We should do a sweep of the property just to be sure," Brooke said.

  "Okay," Jon said. "I'll go—"

  The man lying on the floor Brooke had shot coughed. Brooke, Jon, and Raylon all aimed their guns at him, but didn't fire. His knife had slid to the other side of the room and he didn't appear to have been otherwise armed. Besides, had he had a gun, he would've shot Terrence instead of trying to stab him. He rolled over onto his side and coughed again.

  "Holy shit." Raylon lowered his gun. "Bryce?"

  "You know him?" Jon asked.

  "He's Malcolm's number-two."

  Brooke recognized him, too. She'd had many interactions with him when she'd been a prisoner at Black Hill. Out of Malcolm's head men, he was the nice one.

  "I'm sorry, Raylon," Bryce said.

  "Too late for that," Raylon said.

  "I know," Bryce said. He coughed again. "But it might not be too late to save your friends."

  Raylon's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

  "Pl-please forgive me. I should have come here to… warn you about what's happening… instead of trying to kill you."

  "What are you talking about?" Brooke asked.

  But Bryce didn't reply. He took one more breath and then slumped over. He was gone.

  Brooke looked over at Raylon. All the color had left his face.

  "Oh, God."

  "What?" Brooke asked.

  "Freedom Ridge," Raylon said. "They're in trouble."

  26

  Riding on his motorcycle, Jon glanced off to the left a few times. His heart raced and his throat was dry. Smoke billowed up in the distance, illuminated in the night only by the orange glow of fire below it.

  Jon knew exactly where it was coming from.

  Brooke took a sharp left turn ahead of him, the black SUV's rear tires squealing as the vehicle's back end slipped around the corner. Jon let off the throttle and leaned into the turn, following her.

  The van had been damaged beyond repair during the firefight outside, so they'd decided to leave it behind the house, instead getting the entire group inside the SUV. Luckily, it was full-size, so everyone fit fairly comfortably.

  They'd packed up as quickly as possible. They'd had to leave behind the rabbit and squirrel Jon had killed, but he'd made sure to grab a few cans of food even amidst the hysteria of leaving. Not everyone wanted to leave, but Jon and Brooke had decided it was the best option. They needed to stay together and couldn’t risk leading anyone back to the house again. Also, if Freedom Ridge had been attacked, they would need all the hands they could.

  Raylon had gone into a panic, yelling for everyone to hurry and load into the SUV. Jon understood. His friends, his cousin, and his niece were all in trouble. But Jon had known it was unlikely they'd come back to that house, and also knew the group wouldn't be able to fight as hard if they were starving. And if there was one thing that Jon South was sure about, it was that a fight was coming.

  At least they'd convinced Raylon to let Brooke drive, and Jon was thankful that hadn't become a bigger fight. With how emotional and anxious Raylon was, he likely would have crashed the SUV into an abandoned vehicle on the road or run it off the highway altogether by now.

  Jon kept his distance from the SUV as they sped down the highway. He didn't enjoy riding his motorcycle at night in the first place, there were so many obstacles on the road, and the loud motor made it hard to hear his surroundings and listen out for zombies. But zombies were the least of his worries right now. It wasn't the undead that were the problem, but the living.

  As they got closer to Freedom Ridge, Jon could smell the smoke. Then, when they arrived at the turn for the dirt road that led to the camp, he could hear the screams even over his bike's engine.

  Brooke slowed as she took the turn, knowing the terrain back to the camp was rough. Jon thought about waving to get her to stop. They didn't know what they were about to drive into. Were Malcolm and his people still there, or had they done their damage and left? It didn't matter, however, because Brooke wasn't stopping, and Jon wouldn't attempt to get her to. Whatever they faced ahead, they'd deal with it.

  As the trees opened up and the camp came into view, Jon's jaw went slack. The bright orange glow of the flames filled his vision. The acridness of smoke was all he could smell. He didn't have to go any farther to know what had happened.

  Freedom Ridge was burning.

  They slowed down as they approached the fallen gate. The smoke combined with the night made it difficult to see, and they didn't want to accidentally run over someone who might be out in the middle of the road. Brooke stopped the SUV just inside of the camp. Jon pulled up next to its driver's side, engaging his kickstand and shutting off the bike.

  Before Jon could even talk to his friends, Raylon had already jumped out of the passenger side and run into the camp.

  "Lennox! Sarina!" he yelled.

  "Shit." Jon hopped off his bike, and Brooke got out of the SUV. "Stay with them," Jon said to her, running away from the bike.

  "Jon, hold on."

  "Stay with the others and the kids," Jon said. "I'll be right back."

  Jon jogged into the middle of the camp and looked around. Invaders had set most of the surrounding houses on fire. People screamed. Some were calling out the names of others, searching for the missing. Jon watched as a couple of people carried a woman from a burning house to his right, her arm dangling and her body unmoving. How in the hell had it happened so fast? What did Malcolm and his people have, that they could do this much damage so quickly? He next turned his attention back to finding Raylon and noticed his friend near the middle of the camp, talking to a crying woman.

  "…us by surprise," the woman was saying as Jon entered the conversation. Blood stained the woman’s white shirt, but she didn’t appear to have sustained any major injuries. "We didn't have any time to react, any time to get ready. They just started killing people and burning down our homes."

  "Are they still here?" Jon asked.

  "W-who?" the woman asked, confused.

  "The people who did this."

  She shook her head. "They left a little while ago. At least, I think they all left." She put her head in her hands. "I just don't know what's going on."

  "Where's Lennox?" Raylon asked.
/>   "I-I…I don't…."

  Raylon put his hands on the frightened woman's shoulders. "Where is he, Becky?"

  More tears came to her eyes, a wave of confusion coming over her. "I don't know. I really don't know."

  Realizing she wouldn't answer out of fear, even if she knew the answer, Raylon let go of her and marched away, looking all around the camp as he called out his cousin's and niece's names.

  Jon followed, giving his friend his space. Raylon marched with purpose, and Jon wasn't going to try to calm his friend down. If Brooke and Lucas had been missing and Jon were in the same position, he wouldn't have stopped until he'd found them, either.

  "Raylon!" a woman said. "Over here!"

  Raylon ran toward the woman and Jon followed, jogging to keep up. Even with the black dirt on most of her face, Jon recognized the girl as Christy, who he'd met at the camp before. Her brown hair was up in a ponytail, and her clothes were stained with blood. It dripped off her hands, and some had gotten onto her face as well.

  "Where are Lennox and Sarina?" Raylon asked.

  "In here," Christy said, gesturing toward a house. "Come on."

  They entered a house which seemed to be one of—if not the only—house which hadn't been damaged or destroyed in the fires. Less than a dozen people were scrambling around the room, but there were many more on the floor. Some were on tables. A generator ran, giving them some power to light the room with lamps. Jon could tell that some of the people on the floor were dead. Others hardly moved, and many were being attended to.

  "Uncle Raylon!"

  Sarina ran to her uncle, giving him an enormous hug. They embraced for several moments before Raylon pulled away.

  "Where's your dad?"

  Wiping tears from her eyes, Sarina turned around. Jon followed her gaze to a table surrounded by a few people. When they moved out of the way, Jon could see the dreadlocks hanging off the sides of the table. Lennox's shirt was off and a woman held a towel compressed against his stomach.

  He wasn't moving.

  27

  Jon arrived back at the entrance of Freedom Ridge to find Brooke and Terrence standing outside of the SUV. As Jon walked up, Brooke stood up straight from where she'd been leaning on the hood.

  "Did you find Lennox?" she asked.

  Running his arm across his forehead to wipe away sweat, Jon nodded.

  "Is he alright?" Terrence asked.

  "I don't know. He's alive, but he's unresponsive. He got shot in the stomach and it looks like he's lost a lot of blood."

  The two of them went silent after that.

  "They're doing what they can to help him, but for now, they need our help. Some people are still missing, and they could use extra hands in the makeshift hospital they've set up."

  Jon hopped onto his bike and rode it up to where the hospital was. Brooke followed in the SUV, and the truck emptied after they parked.

  "I'll take the kids somewhere safe," Rosa said. "I’m sure there are other kids here who need looking after."

  "And I’ll go see if they need help in the hospital," Terrence said. "I won't do much good trying to search the camp with these injuries."

  "The rest of us will go search, then." Brooke looked at her son. "Be good for Rosa. Okay?"

  "Yes, ma'am." Lucas took Rosa's hand and went with her.

  Christy brought Jon three flashlights. "This is all I could find."

  "Do you know how many people are still missing?" Jon asked.

  Christy shook her head. "Things have been so chaotic. We don't know who's dead or who might be trapped somewhere."

  "Alright," Brooke said. "We'll see who we can find."

  The group split up and searched for maybe an hour. Most of the buildings were still on fire, making it too dangerous for anyone to go inside, but Jon found a way to at least poke his head into a few of them and call out. No one responded.

  He had similar luck in the couple of places he could actually get into. Jon searched them as best he could amongst the damage, but found no one alive.

  That didn't mean he found no one, though.

  Jon pulled three bodies out from buildings during his searching. He helped Brooke pull out one more from another house.

  When all was said and done, they'd found no one alive.

  The group reconvened near the hospital, but none of them said anything.

  Terrence came hobbling out. He could see on his friends' faces the obviously bad news.

  "Nothing?" he asked to confirm.

  Jon only nodded. Terrence then joined them in their silence.

  A couple of minutes later, Raylon walked out. He had his head facing down to the ground, apparently not wanting to see the destruction around the camp. He didn't raise his head until he got over to the group, and even then, he had trouble making eye contact with anyone.

  "How's Lennox?" Brooke asked.

  "It's too early to know."

  No one in the group said anything. What could they say in situations like this?

  "I should've been here," Raylon said. "I should've never left him. This is—"

  "Don't go starting that now," Terrence said. "This isn't your fault, Raylon."

  "You did all you could to convince him this would happen," Brooke said. "If you'd been here, you might be lying right next to him, or worse. Be glad that he's probably going to live, and that your niece is unharmed."

  "I know," Raylon said. "But it's just—"

  "There are no 'buts' here," Brooke said, cutting him off. She put her hand on his shoulder. "You did nothing wrong, Raylon."

  Raylon rubbed his eyes, clearly trying not to get too emotional. Then, he raised his head and nodded—sniffling a few times, but not crying.

  "I hate to bring this up now," Terrence said, licking his lips. "But, uh, what happens next?"

  That's where Jon's head had been over the past hour, even as he'd tried to focus on finding survivors amidst the chaos. The game had changed. Malcolm had shown just what kind of monster he was and proven what they had feared all along. He'd gone against the bullshit truce which Lennox should never have trusted in to begin with. Jon understood where Lennox had been coming from, wanting only to protect his people and avoid a war with Malcolm. But what the man hadn't realized was that the fight had always been unavoidable. No matter what, it had always been coming.

  The question was, how long would this war last, and who would remain standing at the end?

  "We've got to consider all our options," Brooke said.

  "All our options?" Raylon's face tightened. "There's only one option. We're going to march over to Black Hill and kill that motherfucker, along with everyone who's there following his bullshit."

  Brooke raised her hands. "Look, we're all upset about what happened here. And I'm not saying you're wrong. But we have to look at this objectively and decide what's best for everyone—Hope's Dawn and Freedom Ridge—moving forward. Do we really want more death?"

  "How many people do we have who could go fight, anyway?" Terrence asked. "A couple dozen? Maybe."

  "It could be enough," Jon said.

  The others looked at him.

  "I agree we need to consider all of our options," Jon said. "Packing up and leaving should be one of them. But how long would that take? Our group can't just go, not without everyone who's here." Jon pointed to the house which had become the hospital. "And it's going to be days, maybe longer, before the folks in there can even consider moving. Do we really think Malcolm is going to leave us alone for that long?"

  "So, what are you suggesting we do?" Terrence asked.

  Jon put his hands on his hips and studied the eyes of his friends. In all of them, he could see fear. But he knew that fear would be there regardless of whether or not they stayed and fought Malcolm. Jon had put a lot of thought into this decision. He'd considered every angle, every possible outcome he could think of. And in the end, he could only think of one path forward.

  "I think we should go take care of that bastard for good."


  28

  Kneeling down in a corner, Jon found a moment alone. He was exhausted. His body hurt. He was hungry. The bite wound on his arm ached, and he wondered if it would ever heal properly.

  But out of everything that bothered him, his head hurt the worst.

  The mental anguish of the decision to go to Black Hill weighed heavily on him. While the decision hadn't been entirely his, and had been something the four of them had discussed, Jon knew his opinion on what they should do held a lot of weight. That sort of pressure was something he'd grown accustomed to, but it still wasn't easy to carry it.

  That said, he knew they were making the right decision. Malcolm was a monster. Destruction and murder weren't things that scared Malcolm. He'd proven that several times now between the burning of Hope's Dawn and now Freedom Ridge. And, of course, with what he had done to Jon's wife and son.

  The bastard had to die.

  The question was, who else would die in the process? Jon didn't care about himself; he had survived well beyond his shelf life. Not to mention that he had wanted to die for so long, until he'd arrived at Hope's Dawn and met his friends, and Brooke. Then, he'd survived the zombie bite, the prison, and even being held captive by Lennox right here at Freedom Ridge.

  No, it was everyone else who Jon worried about.

  He understood that the decision to go to Black Hill would cost people their lives. And not only cost the lives of people from Freedom Ridge and Hope's Dawn, but also the innocent people from Black Hill. Not everyone at Malcolm's camp was bad. Many were probably simply lost or had nowhere else to go. Unfortunately, Jon didn't see any other way for this to end. And if he had to die to make sure others didn't, then he was okay with that.

  More than anything, however, he hoped that Brooke and Lucas would make it out of this alive. Lucas wouldn't have to go to Black Hill; none of the children would be going. A woman from Freedom Ridge named Anna had been nominated to stay with them there at Freedom Ridge. But Jon would do everything to bring the boy's mom back alive. He knew it wasn't totally in his control, and seeing how Brooke was one of the most skilled people with a gun who was going on this mission, the two of them would likely split up once they got to Black Hill. Nevertheless, Jon would not let her die. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if that happened.