by Amy Miles
I stare at him for a moment, experiencing that annoying feeling of compassion that has started wiggling its way into me over the past two days. Caring makes me weak and I don’t like it but he is right, family comes first.
“Deal.”
I may break a rule here or there but I have a code that demands that I always follow through with my vows. Someday soon this vow might just land my ass in a boat load of hot water but I will jump with both feet because of this moment. I just hope that it won’t mean being forced to go all GI Joe and help him bust into the research facility to find his dad, who we both know is most likely already dead.
“You got a plan?”
Coleman shakes his head. “I’ll wing it. I’m good at thinking on the fly.”
“That’s really reassuring.”
I wait as he stands to his feet, wavering slightly, and then hobbles toward the nearest nurse. He clutches his stomach and moans moaning.
“Nurse,” he calls with a strained voice. “I...I don’t feel so well.”
The vomiting that follows is a spectacular addition that even I have to admit looked totally legit. I have to hand it to Coleman, the guy knows how to put on a show. As three nurses abandon their duties and rush to his aid, I skirt along the wall toward my mom.
“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” I hear her say as she places a bandage over Darby’s fresh puncture mark.
“You’re one of the best. I barely felt a thing,” the girl says in her squeaky squirrel voice and I nearly doubled over with laughter at my mom’s reaction. Her expression balances somewhere between horror and unrestrained glee behind her mask but she quickly wipes her face clean and turns straight into me.
“Oh!” She calls out as she stumbles back and I reach out to steady her. “No! Don’t touch me.”
“Mom?”
Her eyes flare with anger and she points me toward an empty cot. “You know the rules, young man. It is for your safety and ours that we do not make physical contact except for the necessary blood work.”
“Right. Tell that to the lame ass soldiers who like to rattle my brains from time to time.”
She flinches when she takes in the sight of my newest collection of wounds but I follow her lead and sink down into an empty bed. It is pure torture to wait patiently as she begins to spread out her syringe, antiseptic wipes, tape, gauze and test tubes. My mom is nothing if not an excellent actor playing her part. I’d bet she got that from playing the part of a dutiful wife for so many years with my jerk of a father. I, on the other hand, am about as impatient as a bull in heat, though not quite so gross.
“Why are we in here?”
She pretends not to hear me and rolls up my right sleeve. I felt a slight tremble in her hands when she sees the brilliant artwork left on my skin from the other butchers. “You need to keep a low profile.”
“Yeah, well you know me,” I whisper back.
“I do.” Her grip on my arm tightens painfully and I know that it is the closest she can come to telling me to stop being an arrogant little shit like she knows that I love to be. “Things are changing too quickly. You need to be ready, not cocky.”
The test tubes clank as they roll toward my leg on the cot. “What things? The containment breach?”
I grunt as the tip of the needle pierces my flesh and watch as her eyes clamp shut with regret. There was no way to be gentle with that much scar tissue in the way. “It’s fine.”
She nods and proceeds to press on my vein, twisting the needle to try to coax blood into the vial. “The breach was contained, but not fast enough. There were...casualties.”
“And the fire?”
She glanced over her shoulder and clears her throat before speaking again. “It was a purification of the breach.”
“But what sort of breach was it? Was it biological?”
She shakes her head and remains silent as she removes the first tube to replace with a second.
“Human? One of the infected.”
This time, she worries her lower lip and I know I'm getting too close to the truth
“Is it something else?” Despite her earlier warning, I reach out and touch her arm. “I need to know.”
“It's not…” She stops herself and switches to the final vial. “Just keep your head down, Roan. They tell me it's contained so let's pray that it is.”
After the third vial is full, she grabs a small square of gauze and removes the needle. I barely feel it exit my skin.
“Have you heard from dad?” My mom’s entire body goes rigid. “Mom?”
“It's best not to talk about him. Do you understand?”
“Are you in danger?”
Her hand falls still, hovering in mid-air with the tape ready to apply. “We all are. You need to stay in here, Roan. It’s not safe on the topside. At least not until we know for sure our preventative measures will hold.”
“And what if they don't?”
When she lowers her gaze I feel a knot form in my stomach.
“I can help.”
“No. I forbid you from even trying.” She places tape over my bandage. “I need to know that you are safe, no matter what. These kids need you too.”
Looking around the room I see the kids around me as if for the first time. Not as a nuisance or thorn in my side but as real people desperate for guidance. They have lost much, been lied to and forced to grow up practically overnight. They have suffered just as much if not more than I have.
Someone has to lead them and it sure as hell isn't going to be Ugly Face.
“Mom,” I whisper and place a hand over hers. “Don’t leave. Find an excuse to stay. It will be hard to beat Coleman’s projectile vomiting but I'm pretty sure I can manage a seizure.”
“If there was any way possible for me to remain with you I would, but my absence would not go unnoticed.” Looking around to make sure that no one is watching us, she presses her gloved hand to my cheek. “Now is not the time to rock the boat, Roan. It's the time to be smart and fly under the radar.”
“For how long.”
“Just until the shift change at dawn. That will be happening not long after we leave. You will need to strike hard and fast. Take control of the school and then block every exit. You can't trust the teachers so lock them away. Do you have access to weapons?”
I nod and roll my hand over to show her the keys in my palm. She grins. “That’s my boy.”
She leans in just a hair beyond what would be deemed safe to drill me with a commanding stare. “Don’t hesitate when you seize control. And no matter what you do, don’t leave this building, no matter who or what you see. It's only a matter of time now.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Biting her lower lip, I can see that she is struggling internally with how much to tell me. I want to yell, to shake her and convince her that she doesn't need to protect me anymore. I am a grown man and I can take care of myself, but in the end, she's still my mom.
“If you see…” she closes her eyes as a tear slides down her cheek behind her mask, “If you see something unusual promise me that you will shoot on sight. And if it doesn’t stay down aim right between its eyes and pull the freakin’ trigger.”
8
WE’RE TAKING BACK ZOMBIE HIGH!
I’d be lying if I said that my mom’s parting words didn’t send icy fingers of dread trailing down my spine. Shoot on sight? She can't really mean that. There is no way she would give me permission to slaughter innocent people, but then again...maybe she knows something that I don't. What if whatever it is that I'm supposed to shoot is no longer really a person?
A sick feeling swells in my stomach and I double over, sucking in great bit breaths to ease the churning in my stomach.
“Hey, are you ok?” I blink and realize that Darby is staring right at me.
How long has she been watching me? Did she overhear the conversation I just had with my mom? Judging by the fact that she's not hyperventilating I think it's safe to assume she
didn't.
“Yeah,” I clear my throat and push up to my feet, wavering unsteadily for a second before reestablishing my usual stance, “I don't really like the sight of blood.”
She shoots me a “you’re kidding, right” look and I shrug. She can think I'm a pansy if she wants. It's no skin off my back.
Vaughn is chatting up a nurse at least twenty years his senior when I arrive back at my cot. Tyrel has his arm bent at the elbow holding his bandage in place to stop the bleeding. Isa’s usual mocha skin has adopted a slightly lighter hue as she lies on her bed and a nurse works to slip the tip of a needle into her vein. I watch Tyrel holding her hand, clenching tight when she whimpers in fear and look away.
Living in this place with a genuine fear of needles must suck.
“Is she ok?” I ask.
Tyrel nods. “It happens every time. She prefers those butterfly needles but supplies are getting low and they gotta conserve those for the younger kids.”
Isa keeps her eyes closed even after the needle has been removed. I watch the whole process, swaying in place while I’m left alone to my thoughts and then sink down heavily onto my cot. All I keep thinking as I look around the room is why me.
“You look like a dead man walking,” Flynn says and I swing my head around to look at him. That was a mistake. My stomach rolls again and I clutch my belly. I gotta get a handle on this. So what if I have to take care of a few extra people? It’s not like I’m new to this gig of survival.
Ok, maybe this is a bit different.
The pressure of having so many lives placed in my hands is terrifying. I don’t want to care, I sure as heck don’t want to lead but so far no one seems to be willing to step up or look to anyone else. I’m it and that’s a scary realization as time grows short.
It’s do or die time. I only hope it’s not the latter.
Although I can see Flynn sitting nearby clearly, I feel like I'm stuck in a dream and everything is moving in slow motion. I need to snap out of it and focus. Our plans have been forced to change and there’s little time to pass the word around.
We are just going to have to wing it.
Already the nurses have begun to finish their rounds and congregate near the door. It won't be long before we need to make our move.
“Gather the others,” I say and glance over to where my mom works to pack away her things. “We’re taking over.”
Flynn laughs. “Yeah, sure thing, boss.”
When I stare him down, his laughter fades and he ducks his head when he leans across the narrow walkway toward me. “You’re not joking, are you?”
“Nope. Something bad went down yesterday, just like we thought. You see that nurse over there? That’s my mom and she came to warn us.”
“About what?”
He has me there. My mom was really vague on exactly what happened. Yes, there was a containment breach, but of what sort? How bad must it have been to need to burn an entire building to the ground? And what about her warning to shoot on sight? I am torn as to whether or not he needs to know any of that.
“She told me that we need to lock down the building and that no one is to come in or out. That's all I need to know.”
“Wait a second,” Austin says, plopping down onto a cot next to Tyrel after scurrying over from a nearby aisle. “What you’re talking about is suicide. In case you haven’t noticed the teachers are not going to just happily allow us to tie them up and those soldiers over there aren’t just going to hand us their guns.”
“That’s why I grabbed these,” I open my hand with a grin and show them the keys to the gun locker located on the first floor.
“So that’s why you let that guy hammer on you,” Coleman says, gripping his stomach when he turns over on his cot.
I have no idea what sort of pills those nurses gave him but he looks a bit worse for wear. Maybe he’s beyond faking it now.
I rub the knot on the back of my head and wince at the tenderness it still holds. “Sacrifices have to be made sometimes.”
“And I’m betting that you’re man enough not to hold no grudge against Clockman now for that sacrifice, huh?” Tyrel speaks in a low undertone as the nurse collects Isa’s blood samples after carefully labeling them and heads back down the aisle.
“Let’s just say that I’m motivated to make sure that he complies with the new regime we are about to build.”
Flynn glances over his shoulder. “Uh oh. Those nurses are almost ready to split. You sure about this, Roan?”
“Nope, but we’re still doing it.” I lean forward and motion for the guys to get closer. “I want Tyrel, Austin, Coleman if you can manage, Vaughn if he can stop ogling that girl over there long enough to focus, and Flynn for sure. We don't have much time before the shift change happens. My mom suggested that we wait until after but if we do that we will lose the element of surprise. We need to do this fast and keep it on the down low before reinforcements arrive.”
“What about Lathan? Should he join in too?” Flynn hikes his thumb over his shoulder at the kid.
I glanced over at the guy Flynn mentions and take a quick stock. He looks decent enough, more of a skater reject sort than the football linebacker that I could really use at this point but whatever. He has two eyes to keep watch with and right now that's what I need. “Can we trust him to keep his mouth shut?”
“Yeah, he’s quiet even on a good day,” Coleman speaks up.
“Fine then grab him too and anyone else you think can help without giving us away. Meet back here in five minutes.”
I watch each of the guys weave their way through the cots, keeping their heads held high and each doing their best to look normal. Flynn drops down next to a couple of guys I only know in passing but never cared to learn their names. Coleman eases himself up on his cot, takes a deep breath then raises a shaky thumbs up sign in my direction as he rises to follow.
That's real reassuring.
From off to my left I hear Tyrel trying to calm Isa, who looks like she’d much rather dig her claws into his arm to force him to stay with her than to let him run off to play the role of savior. Vaughn takes the news of his recruitment pretty well and soon joins in with the small group Flynn is rounding up.
“Austin,” I hiss when I see Sammy starting our way. “I need you to take care of him. He can't catch wind of this or we are screwed.”
“How the heck am I supposed to derail him?”
“Use Bex.”
He glances over his shoulder and snorts. “Either you really hate that girl or you are one cold dude!”
“Sacrifices, man.” I can't help but return his grin and pause to watch as Austin moves to intercept Sammy. Within a minute Sammy is firmly latched onto Bex and Austin is back at my side.
“How’d you manage it so fast ?” I ask as I grip the keys so tightly in my palm that I feel my skin beginning to mold around the teeth of the keys.
“I may have mentioned that Gracen overheard Bex saying that she thought Sammy was starting to grow on her. As you can see,” he sweeps his arm out toward the not so happy couple, “Sammy didn’t need any persuading after that little tidbit.”
I laugh. “You don’t look half as smart as you really are, Austin.”
When he beams back at me I wonder how long it will take for that one to finally sink in. Apparently he’s more devious than quick on the uptake.
Turning away from him I stop short when my nose slams into someone’s stomach. I grab hold of the person instinctively and feel my fingers dig into Embers narrow waist as I stop her from falling backward.
“Oh, for the love of all that is holy. You again?” I release my hold on her waist like I’ve just been burned with hellfire.
“Easy there, Roan. I hear blasphemy comes back to bite you.”
“I’m not too worried about that. Seems God went AWOL about three months ago and hasn’t cared enough to come back for us.”
She smirks. “Or maybe he’s just waiting around for you to realize that the universe doesn�
��t revolve around you.”
“Ouch. That one almost hurt.”
“If only you had feelings to hurt.”
I laugh. “I’m assuming you didn’t waltz all the way over here just to berate me.”
“You would think that wouldn’t you…” she smiles and then shifts her weight away from me. “I want in.”
“In what?” I glance around to monitor my team’s progress and notice that each of them has adopted innocent expressions that wouldn’t fool a nun in a catholic school filled with saints.
Great. I'm working with people that are somehow even worse than amateurs!
“We both know that you are scheming, Roan. You may think that you are unreadable but I know your tells.”
“Oh, really?” I cross my arms over my chest and feel the bandage on my arm tug a few hairs. Gritting my teeth, I yank it off, along with a few hairs in the process. Tears sting my eyes but I refuse to let a single one fall. “Enlighten me.”
She juts out one hip and plants her hand on it. “You suck at lying, at least about the important stuff. You watch people closely while trying to feign disinterest. You see everything but hold back before reacting...all apart from when your mom walked through that door.”
“Is that it?”
“No.” She runs a finger along her arm and I find my gaze lost to that movement for a moment. “You get this broody look on your face when you are plotting. But when you are worried, and I'm talking a genuine gut clenching sort of worry, you rub the back of your neck.”
“No, I don’t.”
Her gaze shifts toward my neck and I realize that I'm doing that very thing right now.
“Dammit.” I lower my hand to my lap. “It proves nothing.”
“It should.” She drops onto the empty cot directly across down me and plants her elbows on her knees. Her shirt puckers at the neckline when she leans forward and gives me one hell of a distracting view.
“Look, I'm observant, crafty and I'm fast. You’re taking over the school and I'm down with that. I just want a chance to help so that I’m not stuck back here helpless and useless.”