Chuck shrugged. “I ain’t never seen them get cozy or nothing, but I see love in their eyes.”
“That’s it? They not,” Isaac finished with a fist-ramming motion.
Chuck leaned closer. “I had this uncle who used to cheat on my aunt. Whenever he was out with her and saw one of his women, he’d get this look in his eyes like he wanted to do something but was afraid to. Didi and Cody look at each other that way. They’re holding back something.”
If that was the case, Isaac failed to see any good in talking to Cody, who would soon be back with that Ford truck. Maybe waiting had a benefit after all.
CHAPTER 9
CHARACTER
The scraggly-haired corpse lunged for Rachelle, eyeing her like she used to eye her mother’s enchiladas. She moved around it and aimed again, but she couldn’t will herself into action. The revolver trembled in her hands. The stench practically choked her, but she knew that wasn’t why she couldn’t shoot. The thing looked like a petite even before something ate a huge chunk out of its side. Its hands had been shredded to bone and entrails, and what was left of its face still had over-applied make-up. It couldn’t have been much older than she was, and it had to have died so painfully to look like this now. It needed mercy, but she just couldn’t do it. It was like home all over again. What’s wrong with me?
“She’s not going to get any deader until you put her down,” Didi practically sang, leaning against the spacious lobby wall with her arms across her body.
“I know, but—” Rachelle searched for an excuse to avoid looking as weak as she felt.
“She’d thank you if she could still think. Trust me.”
Rachelle frowned, and the thing tried to grab her. She had to back up.
“Is this too difficult?” Didi asked.
“I can do this,” Rachelle said while steadying her aim.
Didi shrugged dismissively. “If you insist.”
Rachelle sidestepped the beast. “How easy was your first kill?”
“You really don’t want to know.”
“Come on. I can handle it.”
“Even if you can’t handle this?”
Rachelle ran to the other side of the room. The teenage mutant continued limping after her, paying Didi zero attention. She got her aim, but still found her finger unwilling to move. She cursed herself.
“A group of them chasing a mother and her child,” Didi finally said. “I came up behind them and hacked them down. They never saw me coming, not that they could see much anyway. Their vision gets pretty blurry over time, being rotten and all.”
Rachelle pushed the deadhead back with her foot. “So how do they find you?”
“Ears still work,” Didi said while tapping her own ear.
“Can they smell you, too?”
“They’d have to breathe to do that, wouldn’t they?”
True, Rachelle thought as she dodged the monster again and took aim.
“Actually, the fresh ones can, because they only breathe out of habit or instinct or something. Let’s hope you don’t meet too many newbies.”
Tired of holding herself back, she finally pulled the trigger. All she heard was a click. She tried again and again, but nothing fired.
Didi just smiled. What the—
Rachelle tripped on her own feet and fell onto her back. Before she could move, the monster was on top of her, snapping its jaws at her face while trying to claw at her face.
“Uh, oh, she’s got you,” Didi teased. What the hell? “What are you going to do now?”
“Help me,” Rachelle pled, but her so-called mentor didn’t budge an inch.
“But what if I’m not here? What if I get taken out?”
Rachelle frantically glanced between Didi and the monster trying to eat her face off. “Seriously. This isn’t funny.”
“No, it’s not,” Didi said like she was scolding. “You told me you were ready. Show me.”
The rotter made a bold snap at Rachelle, and she pushed back as hard as she could.
Didi popped off the wall and paced behind the battle. “You can’t be a defender if you can’t defend yourself. Bullets run out, weapons fall, and you have to make the most with what you have left. Do you want to let circumstances decide when you die?”
“That’s God’s choice.”
“Then let her eat you,” Didi said, as if it meant nothing.
“What?” Rachelle cringed at Didi until the thing snapped at her again.
“Who’s to say that dead kid on top of you isn’t how God chose for you to die?”
Desperate to avoid that outcome, Rachelle pushed as hard as she could. Her revolver had bounced too far away, so she couldn’t even bash the thing’s head in with it. She had no blades on her, and nothing sharp lay nearby. The thing kept closing in on her. She slipped her elbow under its jaw, but her arm sank into the bite wounds in its neck until reaching its spine. Fortunately, it kept her jaws at bay just long enough for her to grab its shoulder and toss it aside.
She scrambled to her feet and caught her breath, not realizing how long she had been holding it. Her heart beat over a hundred miles an hour in her throat and she wanted to puke. Or cry.
The thing slowly crawled after her, growling like a wounded animal. She stared it down in disgust; pity long abandoned her. Then it grabbed her ankle. She kicked it away and she kicked it again. She kicked and stomped the thing until it finally stopped moving.
She sunk to her knees and wept by the bloody mess she made. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t just pull the trigger. It wasn’t a person anymore, no matter how young it was when it died. What remained only wanted to kill, just like her mother that time.
A gloved hand shook her from her sorrow. She popped up to her feet.
“Now that’s the spirit,” Didi said with a grin.
Rachelle shoved the woman she thought she looked up to. “You would’ve let it eat me.”
“But you wouldn’t,” Didi replied, not looking the least bit fazed. “I knew you had it in you.”
Rachelle flinched, not sure if she wanted to punch Didi or walk out on her. “What?”
“The way I see it, God gave you that life to protect. Well, you did,” she held up the fallen revolver, “and you didn’t even need this to do it. I’m proud of you.” She patted Rachelle’s shoulder again and walked outside.
Staring at the bloody remains at her feet, her anger slowly subsided, and she realized Didi was right: Rachelle had to take out this rotter. It was her responsibility to protect herself, and she had the power to do it. She really was ready, thanks to the best teacher left in the world.
I’m going to be just as awesome as you, Didi.
She ran out of the house with a huge smile on her face and met Didi and Cody in the driveway, her heart beating wildly with anticipation at what the next house held in store for her.
“Somebody’s ready for more,” Cody said with a grin as he loaded the small revolver and handed it back to Rachelle. “Sorry about the bullets.”
Didi patted Rachelle’s back with a proud grin. “Oh, she’s fine. She got a taste of power. I’ll bet she could take on an entire mob right now.”
Rachelle put her hands up. “Oh, no, thank you. One at a time if we can help it, please.”
Didi giggled as she tussled Rachelle’s hair, then drew her sword and headed for the front door of the next house.
Rachelle stopped Didi from kicking the door in. “Wait. Can I try?”
After staring her down, Didi sheathed her sword and stepped back. “You can try. It’s not as easy as it looks.”
Rachelle ran to the door and jump-kicked it like a kung fu movie baddie. Pain shot up her leg, telling her how right Didi was. Thankful her mentors weren’t laughing at her, she glanced up at them.
“It’s all about follow-through,” Didi said. “You don’t just kick it. You push that sucker in at a very fast pace.”
Rachelle stared at the door, psyched herself up, and tried again. It didn’t hurt as much, but it did
n’t open the door, either. She gave the door a couple more kicks, but it didn’t give. Another approach came to mind, so she tried the knob. The door opened. She felt pretty stupid.
Didi and Cody softly applauded.
“Shut up,” Rachelle said, though unable to hold back a smile. She kicked the door further open and charged in.
Three steps in, she froze solid, not expecting to see guns pointed at her.
*****
Pepe needed to psych himself up for today’s lesson from Gray’s Anatomy, hoping something from the Lounge would do the trick. He stepped in and found the other teens sweeping the floors, including the lovely Dawn, who smiled at him. He smiled back and ran into a table. He stopped himself from cursing at the sharp pain in his thigh. She laughed lightly; not meanly, but a charming giggle. The others laughed as he straightened himself and headed for the counter.
Jake didn’t laugh at all. Something bugged him. What now?
Pepe rounded the counter, approached the espresso machine, and opened one of the spiced chai boxes, another testament to this camp’s luxury. He reached through the light brown powder for the small plastic scoop. Its sweet scent teased his nostrils and made his mouth water.
“Come to check on the riff-raff?” Jake said as he approached the counter with his broom. And his friends.
“He probably thinks he’s hot stuff ‘cuz he works for Cody,” Dandy said while rounding the other side of the counter with Lee. Brad joined Jake while Jeremy headed for the door.
Pepe picked up on the familiar vibe of teenaged predators circling their prey, and something told him Jeremy wasn’t going for help. “What’s the problem?”
“He’s slugging down Joe while we work and he wonders what the problem is,” Jake said, then laughed with his hyenas as he picked up his broom. “You must have a lot of time on your hands. Maybe he should help us out here.”
Jake shoved the broom into Pepe’s chest, flooring him. The others snickered as Lee and Dandy hauled him up to his feet and restrained him. Brad held Pepe’s head straight.
“Leave him alone, Jake,” Dawn yelled. “This isn’t funny.”
Jake grabbed Pepe’s collar and yanked upward. “You’re right. I don’t find Mister Pre-Med getting in my way funny at all.”
Pepe tried to reason with Jake, but he was cut off midsentence by a slap in the face.
“I wanted to be a doctor, too,” Jake said, then punched Pepe in the stomach. Pepe struggled to breathe. “The meatheads kind of botched my chances for a scholarship.” Another punch. “Cody said he would take me under his wing when I was ready, but then you showed up,” another punch, “and stole it from me.” Another.
Pepe’s gut was on fire. He coughed and gasped for air, but he couldn’t nurse the ache.
Dawn ran up and grabbed Jake’s arm, which he yanked away with a force that floored her. He scowled incredulously at Dawn. “You like this guy? What, you like your meat dark and spicy? Fine. Let me tenderize it for you.” He punched Pepe’s cheek and tossed him onto her.
Pepe rolled off and tried to catch his breath, but the boys closed in again.
Suddenly, Jeremy fell onto Brad. The others turned to find a huge, pissed-off black man bearing down on them like a bull.
Isaac grabbed Jake and Lee with each hand and drew them closer. “I’m new here, but I’m told the rules are pretty clear about treatin’ each other with respect.” He slammed two boys together as if cleaning erasers, then hoisted Brad and Jeremy off the ground. “So, it seems like anyone who doesn’t show respect can get their asses handed to them.” He head-butted Brad, kneed Jeremy in the gut, and shoved them onto the other two. “And since kids need to learn more than grown-ups,” he grabbed Dandy, punched him in the stomach, and slung the oafish boy onto the other four, “I don’t think we have to hold back with you.” He seized Jake by the throat and grinned wickedly at him. “What you think, kid?”
But Jake wasn’t looking at Isaac anymore. All eyes but Isaac’s faced the tunnel entrance, where Craig stared at Isaac. Jake gasped some kind of plea for help, even going as far as to reach out to his guardian.
Craig closed in and stood next to Isaac, then said to his ward, “Do you get it now?”
Jake’s eyes widened with betrayal as Craig walked away.
Isaac, grinning from ear to ear, tossed the crater-faced jerk onto the other boys. Then he waved over Pepe. “Come on, man. You don’t need to be hangin’ with these kids.”
Pepe helped Dawn to her feet and gently ushered her out. She thanked the big man for the save, but her smile was trained solely on Pepe. He took it for all it was worth.
*****
Rachelle trembled as she stared at the two denim-clad strangers aiming their guns at her. The skinnier one looked like a typical redneck type complete with a ten-gallon hat, black Hulk Hogan mustache, and a menacing sneer over his Winchester whatever. His tubbier friend with the shotgun looked like a less hairy, even less intelligent version.
“Ain’t you a little young to be bustin’ into people’s houses?” the skinnier one asked with a Southern drawl.
“Ain’t your drawl a little thick for the region?” Didi said somewhere behind Rachelle.
The tubby one snickered. “Aw, shucks, Pat, I guess she done got us dead to rights.”
The bumpkins chuckled over their rifles.
Didi laughed. “Well, what do we do now? Flip a coin? Bubble Gum in a Dish?”
That last remark seemed to confuse the good old boys as much as it did Rachelle. Pat jerked his barrel up. “How ‘bout y’all head on out since we’uz here first?”
“That seems fair,” Cody said. “Come on, Rachelle.”
“Hold on, there,” the tubby one said. “You busted in on us. Maybe you should leave us some consolation, like that there li’l ‘un?”
Fear shot through Rachelle as the redneck assholes sized her up like—she didn’t even want to go there. They would not put their filthy hands on her, no matter how scared she was.
Didi sauntered past her and stopped in front of Pat, who planted the barrel against her forehead. “How ‘bout me, big boy?”
When Pat stole a confused glance at his tubby friend, Didi grabbed the rifle, smacked his friend’s fat face with it, and kicked Pat squarely in the nose, flooring both in one deft move. Then she smiled back at Rachelle. “See? Follow-through.”
Badass!
Didi tossed the rifle at Pat’s chest without even bothering to empty it and smiled down at them. Cody maintained his aim.
The bewildered bubbas scrambled to their feet with their guns up. A tense silence followed, but Didi looked as composed as ever. How did she do it?
The calm broke when Pat laughed and lowered his rifle. The tubby one gave Pat a movie-style double take, then lowered his shotgun and chuckled along. Cody did the same.
Rachelle let out a breath she’d been holding. She needed to stop doing that.
“I like you folks,” Pat said through his laughter as he strapped his rifle over his shoulder and shook Didi’s hand. “I’m Pat Williams. This is my friend, Clay Boatwright.”
“You got the boat part right,” Rachelle said, still quivering from the adrenaline rush.
Pat’s smile diminished as he released Didi’s hand. “Now that the guns are down, li’l ‘un, you ought to consider being a might friendlier.”
“So long as it’s not the kind of friendly your pal was hinting at,” Cody calmly warned them, then shook the men’s hands and pointed around. “Cody, Didi, Rachelle. Where are you from?”
“Alabama,” Pat said. “It got pretty heavy there, so we took to the open road. Y’all?”
“Varied,” Didi said. “Why’d you come up north?”
Clay slung his shotgun behind his back. “Couldn’t get through Mi’ssippi. The roads ‘uz clogged, and there’s too many of them rotten sumbitches wanderin’ the woods.”
“We ended up in Indiana,” Pat cut in, “but things there ‘uz crazier than anything, talkin’ ‘bout some ‘Deat
h Doll’ hauntin’ the area or somethin’.”
“Death Doll?” Rachelle parroted, which got her a surprised look from Didi and Cody. “I heard Jake and the others talking about it. I thought they were kidding.”
Pat scoffed. “I didn’t buy it. Country don’t mean fool.”
Rachelle looked to Didi for answers but found her mentor’s eyes on the good old boys. She couldn’t tell if Didi was pissed or if she had gone up against this Death Doll before.
“Do you have a vehicle?” Cody asked.
Pat exchanged glances with Clay. “Say we don’t.”
Cody nodded. “We’re heading home now. You’re welcome to come with us if you want.”
Pat’s cavalier grin never left, but his eyes measured Didi carefully. Or maybe he was just checking her out. Either way, he nodded. “Mighty nice of you. We accept.”
Rachelle didn’t like this one bit, but she had to believe her mentors knew what they were doing.
CHAPTER 10
ANTICIPATION
Jerri entered the projection booth and found her beloved Xing sleeping on the job. Several naughty ways to wake him crossed her mind. She loved his forward thinking mind and youthful exuberance, which energized her in ways she never thought possible. They shared their lives, their languages, and the hopes for their children’s futures. That second one was so damned hard, but it was worth it. Every day brought them something new, and she never wanted to lose that.
Oh, how hard her late fiancé Eric would laugh if he could see her married to a Chinese man half her age—if he didn’t lash out in a jealous rage. Of course, that beer-guzzling bigot showed so little interest in anything outside of racing, she swore he wanted to marry her for free lifetime admission to her family’s race track. Sure, he kept her alive after, but at the cost of her brother.
She knelt behind her love and gently blew on the back of his ear, which startled him awake. She backed up and watched him flail about, trying hard not to laugh aloud.
He laid reproachful eyes on her, but that quickly gave way to joy. He kissed her passionately and she melted against him. Despite swearing off more children after bearing triplets, his kisses always made her reconsider.
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