Leaving the Mess Hall behind, Emmett strolled around town. The afternoon heat barely affected him. Actually, he found it pleasant. He didn't have any destination in mind; he just needed to walk and think. He'd learned long ago that his mind worked better when he moved. It wasn't uncommon for him to pace at home when he was trying to figure something out.
Alexis was happy here, and it was truly a safe haven for survivors—not like the last time when they’d been like sheep being led to slaughter. Yet a small part of him wondered if he'd been duped again. He didn't think so. He knew Saul and the way their government worked, and however strict and sometimes secretive they were, they had the best interest of the country—or at least what was left of it—at heart. There was no doubt in his mind that Saul would give his life to protect everyone inside these walls, and that meant Emmett could trust him. He would follow his lead, just like in the old days.
Now that Alexis and James had gone on a date, she would want to go with the brothers if they decided to leave. He needed to persuade them to stay, to show them that they were all better off here. James would eventually come around because the closer he grew to Alexis, the more protective he would be. He'd want her best interest, just like Emmett, and that would be enough to convince him to stay. Tank seemed like he was already willing to stay, so Emmett wasn’t worried about him. That left Connor, who’d be the hardest to convince. Emmett saw a lot of himself in Connor—the untrusting and stern part of him that had come out after the divorce. Connor was suffering in his own way, just like he had been all those years ago. But he knew if James and Tank decided to stay, that would be enough for Connor. He wouldn't leave his brothers; he'd been wired that way. It was a part of who he was as a warrior.
Emmett continued to walk around town, nodding to those he knew, and quickly realized that he wouldn’t have to convince anyone to stay. If things kept progressing the way they were, they’d all want to stay soon enough. And in the end, he knew he couldn’t have done much to change their minds. They were too similar to him—stubborn and determined to finish what they started. But Emmett truly believed this place was safe, that this was their home. He had to believe it because if this town that was under the protection of the military wasn’t a secure and safe place for his daughter, nowhere would be.
17
Bitten
James finished reading the note and Connor glanced back at his brother.
“Jezz,” Connor said.
“Those bastards,” Tank said.
“How the hell did they know we were gonna be here?” James asked.
“I don't know,” Connor said, “but we need to get out.”
“How?” James asked.
“We'll fight our way out if we have to,” Connor said.
“I'll look for another way,” Tank said.
“I'll keep workin’ on this door,” James said.
“Make it quick,” Connor said. “These doors won't hold 'em for long. There’s too many.”
Connor let his ACR swing to his side as he drew his tomahawk. He approached the double doors and could see dozens of zombies in the room beyond, pressing against the doors. A few had their arms reaching through, and their heads were within reach. He drove the pointed spike of his tomahawk into the closest one’s head, causing it to slump to the floor. Another one pushed into its spot and he drove the spike into that one's head as well. Soon, he had a small pile of bodies lying outside the door and the others were unable to reach the gap. Metal screeched as the rebar started to bend and the doors shuttered on their hinges.
“We need to move quickly,” Connor said.
“The damn door won't budge,” James said from the other side of the room.
“And there's no other way out,” Tank said.
“Then we shoot our way out,” Connor said, sheathing his tomahawk.
“Can we just shoot 'em all through the gap and the windows in the doors?” James asked.
“I don't see why not,” Connor said, “but we don’t have much time. The rebar is bending.”
“Then let's make use of it,” James said.
Connor aimed through the gap, sighting on one of the zombie’s heads. With a single pull of the trigger, its face blew out the back of its skull and it dropped to the ground. His brother fired through the window next to him, but his shot missed its mark because of blasting through the thick glass. Connor fired again, taking down another one. Even though they used suppressors, the noise from their shots could easily be heard through the doors. The zombies began a frenzied push, knowing their meal was just on the other side. With a sickening groan, the rebar bent, giving way for the doors to burst open.
“Take 'em down!” Tank yelled, letting loose with his fully automatic SAW.
Zombies dropped as some of Tank's rounds found heads, while others punched through torsos, necks, and other appendages in a spray of blood. Connor began to fire wildly, aiming more quickly and losing some of his accuracy. Blood and flesh flew in a crimson shower around the three of them.
“Aim for the ones on the left,” James called out. “Once it's clear, we take off that way!”
His brother was right. They weren't going to be able to drop all the zombies before they got to them. They had to create an opening and get out while they could. Tank's bullets ripped through the zombies on the left side, creating a small path.
“Go, go, go!” Connor said.
Tank took off through the small gap between the rest of the zombies and the wall. Connor followed behind him, with James bringing up the rear. They moved quickly but it wasn’t enough. Tank stopped in the middle of the room. Connor slowed behind him as more zombies came at them from all sides. Tank fired at the ones towards the exit while Connor and James kept the rest of them at bay. They only had a couple of seconds before they’d be overrun.
“In here!” James said from behind, motioning them into a room.
Connor glanced back, noticing they had worked their way towards one of the rooms where the zombies had been locked up. He continued to fire as he backed towards the doorway, Tank in front of him to the left. Glass shattered behind him and he assumed James had broken through the window.
“C’mon, Tank!” Connor yelled.
Tank turned and started towards him. Connor spun around and ran across the room towards the window James was hopping through. In front of him, James turned around once outside and aimed back through the window, covering their retreat. Tank cursed loudly behind Connor and James's face fell. Connor quickly whirled around, watching a zombie sink its teeth into Tank's shoulder. He swatted at the thing, but its hands gripped his upper arms. Connor quickly drew his tomahawk and ran up, slamming it into the zombie’s head. It released Tank, who stumbled forward into the room. Connor grabbed the door and slammed it shut into a zombie’s face. The door wouldn't stay closed; the lock and handle had been blown off. He pushed against the door, straining to keep it closed as more zombies piled up outside, their arms reaching through the crack.
“Get out, now!” Connor said.
“When you open the door, I'll cover you,” James told Connor.
Tank hopped out the window and turned around, ready to cover Connor. James nodded, and Connor let go of the door and ran towards the window. He could hear zombies stumbling into the room behind him, mere inches away. He didn't look back. He lunged out the window as James and Tank opened fire.
“Get to Scourge!” Connor yelled, spinning to face the zombies.
James and Tank ran away from the window, sprinting towards the rig. Connor fired at the few zombies that had made it to the open window. After James and Tank had a good lead, he followed.
Tank had been bitten! What were they going to do? They couldn't amputate a shoulder.
He's not going to survive this. Connor thought. No! He has to, I can't lose him.
They arrived at the rig and Tank jumped into the driver’s seat while James got in the back. As Tank started the engine, Connor ran around the fr
ont and climbed inside. As soon as his door shut, Tank took off across the parking lot, heading towards the road that led to the interstate.
“How bad's your shoulder?” James asked, leaning forward to look at it.
“I'm not sure,” Tank said, worry in his voice. “I must be in shock because I don’t really feel it.”
Connor looked over at Tank’s right shoulder where the zombie had bitten him. Touching the wound, his fingers came away bloody. Some was dark and congealed but most was bright red. The zombie’s teeth had shredded Tank’s uniform, but he couldn’t see the wound because there was too much blood.
Connor cursed.
“That bad?” Tank asked.
“I can't see through your shirt and vest,” Connor said, “but there's quite a bit of blood.”
“Well boys, been one hell of a ride, but we’ve all gotta die sometime.”
“Stop it, bro,” James said. “We just need to get you back. They may be able to do something.”
“Yeah, like put a bullet in my brain,” Tank said.
“If it comes to that, I'll make sure you go out right,” Connor said.
“Thanks, brother,” Tank said. “You boys know I love ya, right?”
“Course we do,” James said, his eyes beginning to tear. “Let's just get back.”
“Yeah,” Tank said, his face ashen.
He pressed on the gas and Scourge sped up. They were all silent, just sharing each other's company. Connor couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Tank couldn't be infected. He just couldn't. Their parents and now Tank? The world really was set against them.
You better not let him die, Connor said, glancing towards the heavens, or I'll never forgive you.
Soon the border came into view and Tank slowed as they went through the wall of vehicles. He looked worse than before, but not as much as Connor would’ve expected. Tank pulled to a stop at the gate, and the guards came over to both windows.
“We need to get to the infirmary,” Connor said, opening his door.
“What happened?” one of the guards asked.
“Tank was bitten,” James said from the back seat.
The guards raised their rifles and Connor quickly shut his door. If they started shooting, Tank would ram through the gates.
“Get Cpt. Miller,” Connor shouted from inside.
“We just want to get him to the infirmary,” James said.
The guards looked at each other. Luckily, they were both Marines and not the men dressed in black.
“Don't move,” one of the guards said.
“We won't,” Tank said, taking his hand from the steering wheel. “Just make it quick.”
One guard moved off and the other lowered his rifle.
“That almost got bloody,” Tank said.
“It still might,” Connor said.
18
Blood for Blood
Zeke rode in the passenger seat of Jezz's black SUV. The woman herself was behind the wheel, driving like a maniac. It was how she always drove. Their scouts had reported that one of those black armored vehicles had approached the US Customs building. Their ploy had worked and now they’d be able to get some answers. He hoped it would be those three imbeciles. Then he’d finally be able to get his payback and settle the debt between them. He needed blood.
The SUV swerved to a stop at the front of the building and Zeke jumped out, his tactical AK-47 to his shoulder. There should be no way anybody could get out of the trap, but that didn't mean he was going in recklessly. Three other vehicles pulled in behind Jezz's and the rest of their group jumped out. He was still surprised they’d been able to gather twenty-two new killers who would follow Jezz. She hadn't given them much choice, but there’d still been a choice, and all had followed her.
Pulling the key from his pocket, he unlocked the front doors and entered, rifle to his shoulder as twelve others followed behind. The rest would stay at the back with Jezz and Max. The room looked just as they'd left it, and he walked to the door leading into the back. Two large filing cabinets had been pushed against the locked door, and there were now a few bullet holes in them. He motioned to a couple of the others to move them while he kept his gun trained on the door. They tried to do it quietly, but it was impossible, and the filing cabinets scraped against the floor as they were moved. Once they were out of the way, he motioned to another man to open the door. The people trapped inside would be stupid to attack them. He nodded, and the man flung the door open.
Infected poured out.
Zeke opened fire, dropping two before the rest could react. The two Reclaimers closest to the door didn't stand a chance as dozens of the things stumbled out. They were taken down in a swarm of rotting flesh and gnashing teeth, screaming as blood poured from their bodies. Zeke backed up while firing, dropping more. Most of the other Reclaimers had been smart enough to move, not staying close to the door. After the initial men had gone down, the advance of the horde slowed and they were able to pick them all off. Less than a minute later, two dozen infected and two Reclaimers lay on the ground, unmoving. He could hear more groans in the back room.
“Move to the back,” Zeke said.
Three of the others moved without question. Jezz had instilled in them that there was a strict pecking order—her, then Zeke and Max. All of the rest were nothing but pawns, and they took to their role with fervor. She had a way of scaring people into submission. He followed the three as they moved into the back room where a few infected were scattered around, and they quickly took them down. A large group of them came out of the closest room to the left. He opened fire and the rest of the Reclaimers did as well.
After five minutes, Zeke had checked the entire building. It was clear, and he knew what'd happened. Those three had been stuck in the room. Their trap had worked perfectly, but they'd underestimated not only their opponents but the rebar holding the doors in place. It had bent and they’d fought their way out, exiting through the window in one of the rooms. He wasn't sure he could call them imbeciles any longer. No matter how much he hated to admit it, they were turning out to be extremely resourceful. Not all of it was luck, after all. They did have some skill, and they kept proving themselves harder to contain. He walked out to Jezz, who was waiting outside with her guards and Max.
“I see by your face that things did not go well,” Jezz stated in her cold voice.
“No,” Zeke said, handing her the note that had been on the wall.
One of them had taken the time in the middle of the trap to write a reply: Not today, bitch. T. If Zeke had been one of the men guarding Jezz right then, he’d be afraid for his life. But he wasn't, and when she killed one of them in anger, it only made the rest all the more devoted.
“Your trap did not work as you said, Russian,” Jezz said, looking up at him.
Those eyes held a cold fury. Zeke couldn't help himself as an involuntary shiver ran up his spine. He was scared of nothing in this world, but she was by far the thing that made him most uneasy. She was a wild card, and while he didn't think she'd ever attack him, there was always a possibility with her.
“No,” Zeke said. “It did not.”
“Very well,” Jezz said. “We will just have to try something different. Where are Damian and Habb?”
“Dead,” Zeke said. “They left infected in the room, surprising us when we opened the door.”
Jezz took a deep breath, closing her eyes and reaching for the knife sheathed behind her back. She was on the edge of an explosion, and when that happened, somebody died. Surprisingly, after a few deep breaths she opened her eyes again.
“They continue to best us,” Jezz said. “We will not give them another chance.”
19
We’ve
All Gotta Die
James stood in one of the makeshift examination rooms in nothing but his underwear. At least they’d let him keep those on when they sprayed him down with that chemical shower. In addition to the discomfort of being al
most naked, his ear was throbbing. Normally, his ear didn't bother him much unless it was agitated, like now.
After the guard had returned with Cpt. Miller, they'd immediately quarantined the three of them. They weren't taking any chances and James understood. One infected person inside the fence and the whole place could fall. He didn't know what was happening to Tank, and that was what frustrated him the most. He wanted to be with his friend at the end.
Hopefully this isn't the end, James thought. Lord, heal him.
After standing for a few minutes in his wet underwear, he decided to sit down on the chair in the middle of the room. The bite hadn't seemed bad, and Tank hadn’t gotten much worse as they drove. Those were all good signs, but he couldn't get past the fact that he’d seen the zombie’s teeth sink into his shoulder. Maybe...
His thought was interrupted as the door opened and Alexis walked into the room. Immediately, his face turned a bright shade of red. He’d forgotten she was working there.
“Hey, James,” Alexis said, a mischievous smile on her face.
“Umm, hi,” James said, sitting straight up and crossing his hands in his lap.
James just stared at her as she did her best to keep from giggling. He was an adult in a life-or-death situation with his best friend possibly dying in the room next to him, and yet he was so embarrassed that he could barely think. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to act. He was naked in front of the girl he liked. Well, practically naked. This was like one of those dreams—no, more like one of those nightmares.
“Mr. Andderson, I'm Dr. Nelson,” said a man walking into the room and offering his hand. James shook it, and it lessened some of his embarrassment to know somebody else was in the room. “I have good news. Your brother and friend are okay, and so are you.”
Bad Company (The Brother's Creed Book 4) Page 12