Without breaking stride, she picked up a lawn chair and threw it through the doors, which shattered into pebbles of glass. She ran into the house and got lost for a few seconds as she searched for the garage. When she finally found it, relief filled her because she was out of time. A Chevy Tahoe sat in the garage next to a Porsche Cayenne. Jackpot.
“Wait here, Tank,” Maureen said. The dog whined a little, but sat.
If there were people in the house, they didn’t show themselves. Maureen figured the owners were at their other residence up north. Lucky them. They got to watch Miami burn on TV, instead of having front row seats. She backtracked out the broken sliding glass doors, and around to the side of the house where she found the garbage pails. She dragged one out to the street and found Lester hobbling along the road, followed by Saura, Tristin, and Tony. Tristin carried Jessie, but Don was nowhere to be seen.
“In there,” Maureen said as she pointed. “Where’s Don?”
“He’ll be along. Leave the pail and come with us,” Lester said. “I need you to bandage this wound while we wait.”
“What happened to the plan?” Maureen said.
“Van died,” said Lester, as he pushed passed her toward the house.
When they were all inside, staring out the front window, Lester said, “Tristin and Saura, take the dogs and get in the car.” He tossed them the keys to the Tahoe which he’d found hanging on a hook in the pantry. They also raided the kitchen for food, though there wasn’t anything except crackers and ice pops. “Tony, cover the back.”
When Maureen finished bandaging Lester’s wound, she said, “I’m going out to look for him.”
“No. You’re not,” said Lester. “Wait in the car. I’ll cover the front. He’ll be along soon. Trust him. He’ll be here.”
Trust. What was it? And what did it mean in the crazy world she now navigated through? She was separated from Don again and didn’t like it, and she realized in that moment her concern went beyond her own wellbeing. They’d all come to care for each other in such a short time she wondered if her feelings were real, or simply a product of the situation. Like that moment when the subway stalls and the lights go out. Suddenly everyone’s together, until the lights come back on, and they aren’t.
“I’ll wait here with you in case you need help,” Maureen said.
Lester smiled. “No man can ever be chivalrous for you, can they?”
“Let’s get out of this alive and you can get me drinks poolside all day,” Maureen said.
Don’s fifteen minutes came, and went.
After twenty minutes, Lester said, “He said to leave without him after fifteen minutes. What should we do?”
“It’s possible he’s waiting for us to make a break for it to join us, but… ”
Lester put his hand on Maureen’s shoulder. “Look there.”
Don ran up the road, legs pistoning, head thrown back. He had a crowd of walkers on his tail, and two cars came tearing around the corner, and headed up the street.
“Let’s bring the car out to him,” Maureen said. “Tony, let’s roll.”
They ran to the garage. Photographs covered the walls, and there were the telltale signs of a cat. When they arrived in the garage, Lester jumped in the Tahoe’s driver’s seat, while Tony jumped in the back and Maureen opened the garage door. The Chevy started right up, and Lester didn’t wait for Maureen’s door to close before he raced out of the garage into the late afternoon heat. Lester’s face twisted with pain as he backed out of the driveway and turned the car around. He opened the driver’s side door, and slide over into the passenger seat.
Then they waited.
Don still chugged up the road, sweat soaking his shirt, his face set in a scowl of determination. When he looked up, the pain left his face, and he smiled. He had about two hundred yards on his pursuers, but she could see he was slowing. The walkers staggered forward with a single purpose, their faces contorted, dark blood vessels pulsing against purple skin. One of them fired at Don and missed. He was almost to the Tahoe.
Don jumped into the truck, dropped it in gear, and the tires squealed as the Tahoe bolted forward. “Howdy, folks,” said Don. “Nice job, Maureen. This thing will be much harder to stop than the VW.” The horde of walkers had been replaced by the five vehicles; the pickup, the van, and the same three cars as before. The pickup led the way, and this time, Tony didn’t wait on Don’s command.
He fired, and the shotgun blast tore through the pickup like it was made of tin, and it slowed, and stopped. The van replaced it, the distorted faces of walkers filling the vehicle’s windshield.
They wove through parking lots in an industrial park and two of the cars reappeared. They came out of nowhere, ripping around a corner and trying to ram them. With the added power of the Tahoe, Don easily pulled away. As the engine raced, Lester leaned over and looked at the Tahoe’s gauges. The gas gauge pointed to E.
“That’s not good,” said Don.
Maureen said, “Will we make it?”
Don shrugged.
“Scary. It’s almost like they were waiting for us,” Tony said.
“Not possible,” Lester said.
“You sure? Maybe they followed us to the marina from out here?” Tristin said.
Maureen had to admit she had a point, and she guessed everyone else agreed because nobody said anything. The large metal buildings of the industrial park gave way to houses, small stores, and the detached randomness of the burbs.
“We’re getting close,” said Lester. “We should be at Bubba’s in less than a half hour.”
The cars did their best to keep up, and Don backed off the gas a hair to save fuel. The Tahoe skidded and swerved as Don avoided the black sedan as it pulled across the road trying to block their way. He stomped the break, but the truck didn’t skid or fishtail. The antilock brake system wouldn’t allow the brakes to seize, so Don didn’t stop as he wanted. The Tahoe caught the front fender of the sedan and spun it off the road.
Maureen bit at her lip. They drove through the open areas now, green fields stretching out in all directions. There was nowhere to hide, and she didn’t see how they would lose their tail before they got to Bubba’s. Having seen several cars blown off the road, the remaining vehicles stayed back, trailing after as if waiting for them to stop.
“If we need to run to the airboat, is everything ready to fly?” Tony asked.
Maureen wagged her head, and Don said, “Yup. I had an itchy feeling we’d be back this way.”
Maureen remembered Tim, and the others they’d left behind. Then she recalled that the Glades were a big place, and Tim had no way of getting around, so the odds of him finding her seemed astronomical. There were ways, however, and what about Jeb, Kenny, and Stilts? She thought Drago was lost, but his henchmen could still be floating around.
In many ways, trauma was her business. She lived it every day and was constantly reminded of the frailty of humans and their failure to respect the lives they’d been given. She wasn’t religious. She’d seen too much pain to believe a benevolent god would allow the useless suffering that enveloped the world. Perhaps Drago’s new world order would give rise to something better. A people who would appreciate the bounty the natural world was designed to provide if only we could avoid abusing it. Killing wasn’t the answer, she knew that, but her mind was exploring options she’d had never thought possible before.
Tristin had her head down, and her thin hands shook with worry and fear. She would take that fear away. No matter what happened, she would make her feel safe.
When they were almost at Bubba’s, Don looked into the rearview more often, and a sense of worry grew on his face. He was calculating what it would take to get to the boat. She could almost see his brain working. All he needed was smoke coming out his ears.
When Don spoke, he sounded tired and resigned, “When we get there, Tony and I will hold them back with the guns while you guys run for the boat. Saura, you’re responsible for Tristin. Maureen, I want
you on the boat. Did you see me start it?” Maureen nodded. “Good. Get it going and get everyone situated, and Tony and I will retreat to you.”
“What about me?” Lester asked.
“You’re wounded. Stay with Maureen and help her in any way you can,” Don said. “I’m gonna stop at their curve in the dirt road. Tony and I will hold them there while you guys hit the path to the boat.”
Tank barked, and so did Jessie. “Tank, you’re with Maureen, since that seems to be what you want,” said Don. “Saura, you’ll take Jessie.”
“Forever,” Saura said.
The final two combatants—the white Chevy Lumina and the blue Nissan Sentra—were keeping their distance. “Get down and be prepared to run,” said Don. “We’re almost at Bubba’s and I want to lose them.”
Maureen got low and the truck jumped as Don pushed the Tahoe. From where she lay, she saw the tops of trees rushing by outside the window. The truck listed and yawed as Don made sharp turns at high speeds. Several minutes passed, and her mind wandered.
Yesterday, she’d been trapped in a failed marriage, and today, she was sort-of a widower who fantasized about adopting a teenager. The horror of her situation had snapped her from a rut so deep she never wanted to be that predictable and mindless again. She planned to volunteer in other countries. Live in the jungle for a few years and try to find out who she was when she wasn’t being a nurse, because if one good thing had come from her ordeal, it was the realization that being a nurse wasn’t everything. It couldn’t be everything.
“Okay,” Don said, and Maureen sat up.
They passed Bubba’s house and garage on their right. Tristin clung to Maureen, the child’s eyes staring at the house where they’d found her. “Easy,” Maureen said. Then the house was gone, and they raced through the Everglades. When they came to a sharp turn, Don pulled across the dirt road.
“Everyone out,” yelled Don. “See you at the boat.”
Maureen helped Lester, and they all ran down the road toward the mangroves. Maureen jogged as fast as she could, marveling at the idea that they’d just run up this path less than twelve hours ago. She heard everyone panting and pulling for air. They were out of water, and everyone needed a drink.
Maureen didn’t notice Tank wasn’t with them until they were deep into the forest. He went where he was needed most, but a pang of loss still burned in her stomach. The dog was like a security blanket, and without him, she felt more alone. They pushed through the saw palmetto and came to the airboat. It was as they’d left it, and when she climbed aboard, Maureen found the bottles of water she’d abandoned. She took a long pull on one and handed the other bottle to Lester, who drank deeply, and passed it on down the line.
There was no movement down the path, and nothing but birds and bugs could be heard on the breeze. Lester still had the money sample, and if Don didn’t arrive soon, they’d been instructed to go on without him. Lester knew the way, and getting the sample to the chopper was the only thing that mattered.
Lester sat in the copilot’s seat, and Saura rested on the deck holding Jessie with Tristin beside her. Maureen turned the giant propeller blade several times, but the engine didn’t start. Lester got up and helped her as much as he could, but his injured shoulder made his attempt halfhearted.
Maureen sniffed the air, the smell of rotting peat and fear making her clamp down on her lip. She felt stretched, and though she considered herself tough, she hadn’t been ready for the last two days. Was it possible to be prepared for what they’d gone through? She didn’t think so. A bottle came back her way, and she drank the last of the water and looked back up the path for Don. All she saw were the shadows of the fading day.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Don watched Maureen and crew disappear into the mangrove trees, and his stomach twisted. Did he feel love? Deep caring and concern? Don rarely got involved with the subjects of a case, but his current situation was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.
They’d used a woman to draw him in all those years ago, and that made any romantic relationship a challenge of trust at the edge of Don’s ability. Jax had been so smart; feed him like a child screaming for candy. She’d played her part so well Don let down his guard, and that almost cost him his life.
He’d been on leave in Paris, when she “tripped” into him. He remembered thinking of the old black and white movies his mother watched. Jax had looked into his eyes and smiled. From that moment forward, everything she’d said and done was a lie. He was a young FBI agent, and she wanted to go along for the ride. It had been an easy sell. Even when they’d taken him, beaten him a few kicks to the chest short of death, he didn’t believe she’d betrayed him. She tortured him first.
Don and Tony positioned themselves behind the truck, guns at the ready. The M16 had barely been fired, and the magazine was full, but the extra bullets got lost in the mayhem. They only had three shotgun shells left, so their plan was for Tony to retreat when he ran out of ammo, and Don would wrap things up. As they waited, the comforting peace of a day’s end on the edge of civilization gave them a brief respite as they caught their breath. Tank sat next to Don, coiled like a spring, his tongue dangling from his mouth.
“How do you want to do this?” asked Tony.
This was a difficult question. Don thought he had enough ammo to take care of the pursuing walkers, but something within him wouldn’t let him take down innocent people with headshots. He didn’t know how many guns they had, and while the sleepwalkers had shown no ability to aim the weapons they’d found and figured out how to fire, there was still always a grave risk when bullets were flying.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Wake up wounds can be worse than kill shots. They wake up and then become targets themselves, yet they don’t understand what’s happening.”
“Listen to your own words. We need to think about the many,” Tony said.
Don knew that, but that didn’t mean he didn’t question himself from time to time. “I know, just trying to think of a better way, but sometimes there’s only one way, and there is no choice, no path less traveled.” Don stared back down the dirt road. The dust of their passage settled, but it was still clear where they’d gone. “I shouldn’t have ripped in here like that. Looks like I lost them, but now they’ll find us because I left them a marked trail.”
No sooner had those words escaped his lips when the Lumina and Sentra rolled up the dirt road. They moved slow, taking their time. Don shouldered the M16, sighted it on the lead car’s front driver’s side tire, and fired. The shot rang out in the stillness, and the cars stopped.
Don looked over at Tony, who shrugged.
Don calculated that Maureen and her charges had probably reached the boat, and if he and Tony ran for it, they could avoid a confrontation. They’d bought the time Maureen, Lester, and the rest needed, but if the walkers came on hard, they could catch up to Tony and Don before the road disappeared into thick saw palmetto ahead.
“Tony, head on back. I’ll be right behind you. Tank, go with him,” Don said.
The dog whimpered, but trailed after Tony as he ran for the boat.
The cars rolled forward again, and he heard the punctured tire thumping on the Lumina’s rim. A few seconds tick by, his mind churning through the scenarios, a gentle breeze calming his nerves, and the fates of two walkers were decided. He sighted the M16, and fired two shots at the drivers of the cars. He didn’t wait to see if he’d hit anything, because he turned and sprinted away.
It was quiet as he ran, his blood pumping in his ears, sweat trickling down his forehead. His leg ached, and the bottoms of his feet tingled with pain. Don imagined the steak dinner he’d have when he got out. He’d take Lester, Maureen, and the entire crew out for drinks and fun, even if it meant he had to do it inside an army quarantine tent. Don didn’t have the heart to tell his companions that even when it was confirmed they were uninfected, they wouldn’t simply be allowed to go on their way once they were extracted. They would be put in
a loose quarantine, and questioned endlessly about what they’d seen and experienced over the last two days.
Don caught up with Tony before the road ended and entered the thick stand buttonwood and red mangrove trees. He slowed up, and ran next to Tony. “You okay?”
“Yup,” Tony said. He huffed and puffed, but he didn’t look like he was going down. His cheeks were flush, and his eyes glassy, but he showed no signs of quitting. Don marveled again at how lucky he’d been to come across the people he had. Lester saved his life, and he owed him, and the rest. A pang of worry ran through him again. If his people tried to renege on their deal once they had the sample, Don didn’t know what he would do.
“Keep going no matter what,” Don said, and stopped running, spun around, and dropped into a crouch as he brought up the rifle. He scanned the path, which was only a boot-stomped line through thick underbrush, and saw no one. He waited, breathing as they taught him at Quantico all those years ago. He sighted the rifle, and moved it in a wide arc. Nothing moved.
Don got up and ran, weaving in and out of the palmetto. Here and there, sawgrass filled in the empty spaces, and there were signs of water. In the distance, he heard the airboat motor come to life, its loud echo ringing through the forest. Don caught up to Tony again, and this time, both men stopped and searched the woods behind them.
“I don’t see anything,” Tony said between breaths.
“We’re close. You ready for the final sprint?”
Tony nodded, and they continued on.
They had only taken a few steps when mutated Bubba burst from the foliage. He’d approached from the side, and was almost on them. Tank was a streak of gray as he darted past Don, and launched at Bubba, who threw up his arms to ward off the animal. Tank clamped down on his arm and wouldn’t let go. Bubba howled, his red eyes bulging from his head. Tank shook his head back and forth, trying to tear the arm off.
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