Man Eaters (Book 2): The Horde

by Linda Kay Silva

  After peering over the side, Butcher closed her eyes and just let the tears come. It was over. She’d said it out loud and even childishly blamed him for it. Now they’d never—

  “You’re…pregnant?” Came his voice so soft, so non-confrontational, she barely recognized it. “We…made a baby?” Gently and with hesitation, he turned her around and saw she was crying. His face fell. “Oh. I see. You…you don’t want it.”

  Butcher angrily wiped her face and spat, “Yes, I want it, you dolt. That’s why I said you wouldn’t understand. Wanting to bring a child into this fucked up world is the most selfish thing anyone could do right now.”

  Holding her by the shoulders, Luke stared hard into her eyes. “I know I’m a dolt, but can you at least tell me why you’re so angry? Help me understand. If you’re keeping it, shouldn’t you be happy? Shouldn’t we be happy? I so don’t understand what’s going on here.”

  Butcher exhaled loudly. “If this were the real world, yes, I’d be happy. I’d be ecstatic. I’d be beyond thrilled.”

  “But?”

  “But I have a job to do and the last thing I need is for you to start hovering over me and treating me like—”

  “Whoa. Wait a goddamned second. You’re pissed off because of how you think I might act? That is not only unfair but so not like you. Babe, can we back up for just one minute? There seem to be several carts before the horse here.”

  Butcher’s angry face softened as he spoke and managed a nod, blinking back tears.

  “First off, I am—” His eyes lit up and a grin spread across his face. “Over the moon excited about having a baby with you, and it doesn’t matter if we’re in this shit bag country or on Mars. I can’t wait.” He kissed her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. “As for treating you differently, you’re the most kick-ass woman I’ve ever met, and I’ve met some seriously hard core marines in my day. I respect you too much to treat you differently because you’re pregnant. You know me better than that.”

  Two tears dropped from her lashes.

  “I love you, Butcher. I have loved you since the moment we met, and if you’re going to be brave enough to carry my child through this mess, the very least I can do is support you the way you want me to. I am man enough to know that my woman, even pregnant, could kick my ass if I wasn’t paying attention.”

  Butcher wiped her eyes. “I could kick your ass even when you are.”

  Luke laughed and pulled her tighter, kissing her deeply.

  Gently backing out of his embrace, Butcher explained, “I just want you to treat me the same as you always have. If I do something dangerous, I don’t want a lecture. I don’t want to be scolded. That will kill us for sure.”

  Luke nodded. “Agreed. What else?”

  “Please don’t monitor my food, my drink, my exercise. Don’t hover, don’t lecture, don’t assume you know my body better than me and do not, under any circumstances, ask Dallas for a lighter load for me. I am a grown woman. I do not need a babysitter.” More hot tears fell.

  Luke gently pulled her to him and stroked her back. “Of course you don’t. My god, Butcher, all this time I thought I’d done something to push you away. I thought maybe you were tired of me and didn’t know how to break it off.” Squeezing her tightly, he stepped back and wiped her tears. “We’re having a baby.” Her tears were now his. “What a gift.”

  “A gift? Really? It doesn’t scare you?”

  “Hell yes. It scares the shit out of me. But so did sky diving. It’s exciting and scary all at the same time. And…I totally get why you freaked out, but I’m not going to treat you any differently, and if I slip and do, I’m sure you’ll put me in my place.”

  “Damn straight I will.”

  Leaning over, Luke kissed her long and deep, wrapping his arms around her and pressing her closer to him. When the kiss ended, he leaned his forehead against hers and asked, “Who else knows?”

  Butcher groaned. “You do know me, that’s for sure. I spoke to Dallas, only because—” He put his finger to her lips. “No need to explain. I’m glad they know.”

  “I need to tell everyone else. Will you…will you do it with me?”

  His smile was all the answer she needed.

  ****

  Before opening the door to the Fuchs, Roper said to the small group, “No one says a word about what Michael did. I’ll handle this when we are through here. Understood?”

  They all nodded.

  When everyone was piled in the back of the Fuchs, Michael stood. “I can exp—”

  “Sit. Down.” Roper’s voice slid icy cold between her clenched teeth.

  When Michael sat back down, Zoe sat on one side of him while Churchill sat on the other glaring at Michael’s profile. The air was thick and muggy.

  “So, Hunter, you’ve obviously managed to keep you and your father alive by sliding in and out around them unnoticed,” Roper said.

  Hunter’s eyes grew wide. “Yes, but—”

  “How did I know?” Roper looked to Churchill to finish.

  “Dude. You’re gay, and that’s why you’ve been able to rummage through shops and walk among them. You’ve been sitting there at night wondering why they don’t come after you. Well, we know why because we’re just like you.”

  Roper glanced over at Fletcher before continuing. “I’m sorry if we’ve outed you to your dad, but we don’t have time to pry open antiquated closet doors. We need to move forward as quickly as possible.”

  Looking to his dad, Hunter bowed his head. “It never dawned on me that that’s why they left me alone. All this time, I wondered if there was something I wore, something I ate, something I did that made them ignore me.”

  “Yeah. It took us a minute or ten to figure it out.” Roper told her story and then asked him about his own.

  “Well, after two months, we were out of food, and so I took my bow and went in search of some. At first, I skirted around them, staying downwind, staying out of sight, you know—not really knowing what triggers them. I did this for about a week, but one afternoon, I got sloppy, and this one thing came around the corner of a shop I was in. I fumbled with my arrow, dropped it, picked it up, and by the time I notched it, the thing had cruised by me as if I didn’t exist.”

  Roper, Churchill, and Zoe nodded. “Freaky, huh?”

  “Oh man, that’s an understatement. I was sure I was screwed, but I thought maybe it was just that one ghoul. You know, maybe it wasn’t hungry or something. Later on, I realized they never really saw me…you know…as food.”

  “Now you know why. We’re pretty certain it’s our genetic makeup. Even once bitten, the virus doesn’t get us. We…I had a friend who was bitten.”

  “And she lived?”

  “He did. Then he sacrificed his life for the rest of us.” Roper glared over at Michael. “For those of us who are really gay.”

  He opened his mouth, but Roper held her hand in his face. “Don’t. Just don’t.”

  Michael closed his mouth and stared down at his hands.

  “Go on, Hunter.”

  Hunter continued with his story. “So, dad and I assumed there was something about me that the creatures ignored. We ran though all sorts of lists, from vaccines I’ve had to medications. Gotta say, the gay piece escaped me.”

  “It might have gotten by us as well, except they ignored my lover and me when we were surrounded by a horde in the middle of a street. We didn’t know it at the time, but once we started down a list of commonalities, there it was: undeniable proof that we’re born this way, and the genetic code for the man eaters to go after everyone but us became evident.”

  “My son has kept us alive not only because he is gay, but because he is an excellent marksman. Perhaps you’ve heard about him. Hunter MacCormick?”

  Everyone shook their heads.

  “My son was a silver medalist at the last Olympics.”

  “That is so fucking awesome, dude,” Zoe said. “Congrats.”

  Hunter blushed as he pulled the m
edal out from under his shirt. “I may leave everything I own at home, but I am never leaving this.”

  Fletcher leaned over toward Roper. “So tell me about this army of yours.”

  Roper went into detail about Angola and what was quickly becoming known as the rebellion. She wasn’t halfway through her rehearsed speech when Fletcher interrupted.

  “Count us in.”

  Hunter quickly turned to his dad. “We are? I thought you said we were never leaving.”

  Fletcher ran his thick hand through his hair. “When my son and I first ventured out, there were groups of crazy men who broke into businesses and homes. They shot anything that moved, and took anything they wanted, so we had to be very careful.” He looked at Hunter. “We can’t keep doing this on our own, son. I know what I’ve said about not trusting anyone, but—”

  “Dad, you don’t have to convince me. I love you and all, but I’d really like to hang out with other people, too. We’ve said all that can be said by two guys.”

  Fletcher grinned. “Then we’re in.”

  Roper smiled and shook Fletcher’s hand. “Welcome aboard. Glad to have you both.” Fletcher rose and studied the interior of the Fuchs. “Nice ride. I’m impressed. ”

  “Thank you, but my other half helped nab it. She’s our real boss. I’m just the boss of this little expedition.”

  “I’m slightly surprised you’ve managed to keep it from the marauders.”

  “Oh, some have tried to take it away from us, but they didn’t live to tell the story.”

  Hunter replied, “Cool. Then let’s finish loading up our weapons, and get out of here. There are a few other places we can go for weapons and ammo, too. I assume you guys have rifles and guns as well.”

  “We do, but ammo is short.” When Roper lowered the gate, she turned to Michael and put a finger in his face. “Do. Not. Move.”

  Churchill leaned over and whispered in Michael’s ear, “Or we will leave you here.”

  It took fifteen more minutes and fourteen more dead zombies before they pulled away from the Bow-Diddly with thousands of arrows and dozens of bows and crossbows.

  “Man, this is a jackpot,” Churchill said, gazing at the mountain of boxes of arrows and bolts.

  “Reclaimable ammo is the best,” Fletcher said. “You never run out like you do with bullets. We can teach your people how to shoot either the bow or crossbow. The crossbow is better for distance, so we can quickly shake out who should use which bow. You shoot, kill, collect, and clean. That’s been our motto.”

  Roper nodded. “Excellent. I like it.”

  Poking his head into the front, Hunter gave Roper directions to a neighborhood outside of the city proper.

  “Where we going?”

  Hunter grinned. “A weird friend of mine belonged to a survivalist group that stockpiled weapons. If he’s still alive, we can ask him to join. If not, we can take his shit.”

  Roper laughed. She liked Hunter. She could tell by the way he stared at Hunter that Churchill did as well. “If not, we won’t take anything. We are never going to be those kinds of people.”

  “Never say never, Roper.”

  As Roper wound through the narrow streets of the Fifth Ward, she stuffed the anger she felt toward Michael. Dallas would skin him alive for putting them all in harm’s way with his ridiculous lie. She might overreact loudly and push those newly acquired survivors right back to the tree house, and Roper knew they couldn’t afford that.

  She knew what she had to do.

  She just hoped Sully and his people would understand.

  ****

  After two and a half hours of training and sharing of intel, Dallas let the group take a break. While everyone snacked on a large bag of smoked alligator meat, she walked from group to group asking each person about their skill set and any expertise they might have. She was delighted to find among them a metalworker, a plumber, and a dentist. By the time she compiled her list, she was certain she’d mined gold with this group.

  “We have a lot of depth here,” she said to Sully, who was chewing the alligator meat slowly. “I can see your people filling a lot of our holes.”

  “They’re not mine, Dallas. We’re lead by Ben, who seems to delight in watching you maneuver through the group. I’ll never understand that putz.”

  Dallas looked up from her list. “Too much pressure?”

  “No idea. I don’t know how anyone does it. People scared, people whining, lazy people, bored people, you name it. No thanks. You can have them.”

  Dallas thought of Roper, Butcher, Einstein, and Luke. As their faces wafted across her mind’s eye, she grinned. She had had a great core group right out of the gate, saving her from having to deal with people who couldn’t get out of their own way…until later. “I have a lot of good help. Speaking of which, it’s about time to start worrying.” Dallas looked out at the setting sun. Roper told her they would be back before sundown. It was getting close.

  “You don’t strike me as the worrying kind.”

  “I’m not. I just happen to be in love with the driver, and shit always seems to go down whenever we’re apart.”

  “Really? You and Roper? I had no idea.”

  She nodded, a familiar warmth cascading through her veins. “Yep. We’ve been together since day one in San Francisco, but didn’t get together until several weeks into the outbreak. Let’s just say romance didn’t really figure into survival mode.”

  “Yet you still managed to fall in love.”

  She couldn’t hold back her smile. “How couldn’t I? She’s amazing. Not a day goes by that I am not thankful to have her here with me. Truth be told, I’d be lost without her. And without Einstein.”

  “Einstein?”

  Dallas jammed her hands in her pants and paced. “We call him that because that kid knows everything there is to know about zombies. He’s watched every movie, read every book, played every game. I’d have been dead in the first thirty minutes of the outbreak without him.”

  “He with the others then?”

  Dallas nodded. “Yeah, and it killed me to have to leave him. All we have we owe to that kid’s brain. Hence…Einstein.” Dallas kept glancing up the road and listening for the Beast.

  “No wonder you’re worried. You have family.”

  Still staring up the road, she tried not to let the ball of panic ride to her throat. “That, my friend, is an understatement.”

  ****

  The survivalist’s house yielded numerous AK-47s, hollow-point bullets, three dozen handguns, knives, and four trash cans full of dehydrated food for campers. There was a large assortment of rifles, shotguns, and automatic weapons with full boxes of ammo for each. They cleaned the house out in less than half an hour.

  “Great haul,” Roper said, half-turning in her seat to look at the booty. “You guys have already earned your way.”

  Fletcher nodded once. “Can’t start a war without proper weapons. If your army can take those things out with machetes and the rest of us can use bolts and arrows, then we can save the bullets for hunting or emergency situations.”

  Hunter stared down at the three dead and half-eaten bodies littering the camp. “What do you supposed happened here?”

  Squatting down to examine the corpses, Roper shook her head. “They must have been attacked by someone they knew because it doesn’t even look like they drew down. My guess is one of them turned in the night and killed the other two.” Rising, Roper realized the sun was almost down. “Come on. We gotta get back. Dallas will be sick with worry.”

  Roper started the Fuchs and took the same road back to town. When she missed the turn to the alligator farm, Churchill said, “You missed it, Rope. It was back there.”

  Roper nodded. “I know.”

  She drove another few miles before stopping in the middle of the road and lowering the ramp.

  “What are we stopping for?”

  Shutting off the Beast, she rose, grabbed the front of Michael’ shirt and yanked him to her f
ace. “You are a piece of shit,” she growled. “You put the rest of us in danger by posing as a gay man? Are you fucking crazy?”

  “I’m sorry! I…I…I just thought that this jeep was the safest place to be. To be with those who aren’t attacked is what I—”

  “But we were attacked, weren’t we? They came for you and that put us at risk. What should have been an easy in-and-out job turned into something far more difficult. Because. Of. You.” She shoved him toward the ramp. “So you punched your own ticket. Get the fuck out.”

  He quickly scrambled back up the ramp. “What? No. Come on, Roper, please. I…I made a mistake. Please.”

  Roper shook her head. “A self-centered mistake like that isn’t one this group can afford. Get out.”

  Seeing no bend in her will, Michael turned to Churchill. “Come on, man, please…you know it was an honest mistake. Give me a second chance. Please. I’m begging you. She’ll listen to you.”

  Churchill’s response was to withdraw a Colt Python from its holster. “Fuck you, man. Get out and take the chance she’s giving you before I put a slug in your face.”

  He made one final grasp to Fletcher. “Please. I’m begging. I’ll be the best soldier of all, just please don’t let her—”

  “See, just there you show an inability to even understand the hierarchy. I have the feeling no one ever lets Roper do anything. I support her decision. Those things haven’t been around in weeks, but you brought them to our doorstep. You are a threat.”

  Churchill continued pointing his huge revolver at Michael. “Go on. Get the hell out of here before I shoot you myself.”

  The back of the Beast became very still. No one came to Michael’s side as he slowly backed down the ramp. “At least give me a weapon! You can’t be so heartless that you’d kick me out without a weapon.”

  Roper reached into a box of Turkish automatic handguns and tossed one out the opening. “Off you go.”

  Scrambling for the gun, Michael gripped it in both hands and aimed it at Roper as the ramp ascended.

  Churchill raised his gun, but Roper put her arm out and gently pushed the weapon down. Michael’s gun trembled in his inexperienced hand. “Die, you fucking lesbo bitch!”