Someone, or something.
The air inside smelled musty.
Jonah knocked the pipe loudly against the door frame a few times and waited, cocking his ear and leaning slightly inside.
Danny shook like a leaf. He really, truly did not like this. It was really dark inside the house. Too dark.
"Okay, come on," Jonah whispered. "If anything's in here, it would've come out and attacked us by now. Shut the door behind you."
He stepped confidently into the middle of the room, then disappeared into the next before Danny had taken two steps. Danny cursed under his breath, but Jonah reappeared with a chair in his hands. He wedged it beneath the knob. "So they can't get in," he said.
"And we can't get out."
"Just kick it out of the way if we need to leave in a hurry."
"Easy for you to say." Danny wasn't sure he'd be able to remember under pressure.
"Open the curtains. Let in some light. Come on, Danny, snap to it. We need to hurry."
They went room by room, opening and inspecting cabinets. They spent the bulk of their time in the kitchen and garage, giving the bedrooms a cursory check before moving on.
But the small house had clearly been scavenged already, and there was nothing of any use. Danny was relieved that they hadn't found any bones in any of the beds, but he was also disappointed that there was no car in the garage.
"Guess Susan was wrong."
"About what?" Jonah asked, as they moved onto the next building.
"Nothing."
They checked four more houses and what looked like had been a general store before the sky grew noticeably dimmer. All they'd managed to collect was a few cans of dog food and a two liter bottle of cola that the solids had long since precipitated out of. They decided to take their chances and stuck it in the pack to bring back with them.
Kari and Nami returned to the bus a few minutes after them. They had had better luck, finding more food and water, as well as a few bottles of motor oil in a dusty shed. They had brought it back, though Jonah said it wasn't enough to last them the twelve or so more hours it would take to get to the evac center. Yet despite their relative success, their mood remained solemn.
"Didn't find any cars, just a truck without an engine in the maintenance garage," Nami quietly said. He glanced grimly at Kari, who echoed the look. "Looks like it had been stripped clean of useful parts."
"So much for people going home to die," Danny grumbled to himself. He didn't seem to notice the frowns it brought him.
After the food and drinks had been doled out and the children and some of the adults had returned to their seats, Mister Blakeley drew the scouting parties together. "Spill it," he quietly told Kari and Nami. "Yes, I noticed. What'd you find?"
"Blood," Kari finally conceded. "In the automotive shop. Lots of it."
"Old blood," Nami clarified.
"I think we'd better get used to seeing it," Jonah said. "Or did we forget what it was like at the end?"
Nobody answered right away.
"It was more than just blood," Kari said. "There were chains attached to the walls. It looked like someone had locked people up inside and then—"
"We don't know that," Nami quietly told her. "We don't know what happened in there or why."
But Kari pressed on. "The blood wasn't new, but it wasn't three years old, either. And I don't know if they were Wraiths or uninfected people that had been chained up. I can't imagine why anyone would do that, but it's pretty damn clear that something not . . . not nice happened in there."
Jonah stood up. "I want to see for myself."
"It's almost dark!"
The sun had now slipped completely below the horizon, and shadows covered the land, filling the canyons between buildings with a cold, dead silence. The inside of the bus itself had grown dark enough that the figures sitting just a few seats away were little more than huddled shapes.
"I'd rather check tonight and know better what we're dealing with than to spend the night wondering."
A pair of flashlights was all they had for illumination, but he didn't want to take them from the other passengers. He disconnected the cell phone from the bus's charger and tested the light from the screen. It would do for what he needed. He said he planned to be gone no more than ten minutes.
"You coming, Danny?"
Danny swallowed dryly. "I should have known you'd want company."
Finn came to with a start. And a pounding headache.
And immediately threw up the dried nuts he'd eaten for breakfast into the pine needles beside him.
"Smooth move, bro," Bix said, wiping the splatter off his hand onto his pants. "Blech."
"What happened?"
"Try not to move," someone else replied, a woman. She had a thick southern accent.
Finn attempted to get onto his feet, then decided it was too soon and sat back down again. His head spun. The pain was already receding, though it left his head feeling—
Itchy. Like my brain itches.
"What the hell happened," he asked again.
"We thought y'all was feral," a male voice replied. "Soon's I heard the shout, I knew y'all wasn't, but by then I'd already pulled the trigger."
Finn raised his head from his hands and squinted up at the strangers. The itchy sensation was gone now too, vanished in a flash as if nothing had happened. Even the pain, focused around a growing lump on his forehead, felt more and more distant.
Before him stood a man and a woman. They appeared middle aged, or so he guessed in the evening twilight. Both carried a certain toughness about them, a ruggedness that spoke volumes about how they'd managed to survive the past three years in a world that had gone to hell.
Their clothes — jeans and denim jackets, leather gloves and boots, cowboy hats, bandanas about their necks — were functional without being showy. Both also wore multiple sidearms strapped to their hips.
They stepped forward and kneeled down, giving Finn a better look at them. The man was clean-shaven. The woman had her hair pulled back and braided down to the middle of her back. They both had smile lines at the corners of their mouths and eyes, the latter twinkling with concern in the day's dying light. Concern and not a little amusement.
Finn leaned instinctively away from them.
"It's cool, man," Bix reassured him. "They're cool. They didn't mean to hurt us."
"Y'all hit yer head," the man said, his voice even thicker with accent than hers. The woman raised a hand to touch the knot on his forehead, then withdrew it when Finn flinched away again.
"What the hell did you shoot me with?"
"Stun gun," the man replied. He patted his hip. "Sorry, but I had to do it. Y'all know how it is. Shoot first and ask questions later. Ain't the only way to avoid getting the feral, but it sure is the quietest."
"Feral? What's that?"
The couple gave him a strange look. "The sickness," she said. "Don't tell us y'all don't know about it."
"You mean the Flense?" Bix asked.
The man and woman exchanged glances. "Ain't heard it called that in years," the man quietly said. "Since the televisions and radios stopped reportin. Y'all been hibernatin in a cave all this time? And how come y'all ain't got no weapons sides those measly walkin sticks? Those things ain't no good if'n you get surrounded." He looked at their packs and shook his head. "No food, little water. Where y'all come from?"
"The d—" Bix started to say.
"We had a place," Finn quickly jumped in. He gave Bix's arm a warning squeeze as he struggled to his feet. The throbbing in his head and the sick feeling in his stomach flared, but only momentarily. The others stood with him. "It was safe for a while, secure, but it's not anymore. We had to leave."
"Y'all's alone?"
Finn nodded.
"And just wandering about? Got no place to go?"
Finn didn't answer. He didn't know these people. They looked kind enough, but he didn't trust them. Jonah's warning came back to him about being more afraid of the s
urvivors that had been left behind than of the Wraiths. Of course, that had been when he believed the Wraiths were all dead.
Finn wondered briefly how the other survivors were getting along. He winced at the thought of Bren being alone, but he was heartened to know that they would have reached the evacuation center by now.
"Not talkin, eh?"
"No offense," Finn said. "But . . . ."
"Sure, we get it," the man said, nodding good-naturedly. "Don't we, Jen, dear?" The woman nodded. "It's only natural to be 'spicious in a world such as this one done become. Trustin no one's the best way to stay alive and not taken with the feral. Course, havin friends helps, too." He winked.
"We're looking for his brother," Bix blurted out.
"Bix!"
"Well? Maybe they can help."
Finn shook his head.
"We'd be happy to," Jen said. "We know these parts pretty well. Which way did he go?"
Finn pressed his lips tight. How could he explain what they were doing and where they were going without giving away too much information? "We think he's upriver, maybe a hundred or so miles."
"Y'all are talking about Canada," the man exclaimed. "Or what used to be Canada, anyway. The land gets pretty rugged up that way, and once you start hittin towns and such, y'all are gonna start runnin into real trouble with the ferals."
"We can handle ourselves."
"Not sayin otherwise, son. But like my Jenny said, we know this part of the country. We know where it's safe to wander. Well, safer, anyway. And we know where it's not safe at all."
"You're going north, we can help," Jen said. "Our home's along the way. Y'all could rest up with us, sleep in a real bed instead of on this hard ground, while we figure out a plan and get y'all outfitted proper-like."
"Now, Jen dear, don't go puttin no pressure on the boys." He turned to them and smiled. "She gets the strong motherin instinct, even though she's already gots two of her own at home to look after."
"They're all grown up, Adrian. Wouldn't call them boys no more. But y'all sure look like you could use a decent meal."
The man rolled his eyes. "Here it comes. Y'all better just run away right now, before she gets on a roll. When she does, she'll start talking about cookin and feedin and, fore y'all know it, she's tryin to fatten you up with her deep-fried chicken."
"Fried chicken?" Bix said. He looked over at Finn with hunger in his eyes. His stomach growled.
"Ain't the half of it neither, son. She makes a right sinful apple pie." He patted his ample belly.
"Apple pie? Oh, man. Finn, maybe—"
"Wait," Finn said. A part of him wished where they were going was in the opposite direction so he'd have a reason to say no. But he also longed for what the couple were offering: a place to rest, home cooked food — fresh food — a real bed to lie in with real sheets, a house with windows and fresh air. And someone to tell them what to do and how to go about doing it. "It's Adrian, right? How far are we talking about?"
Adrian scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm. What do y'all think, dear? Sixty, seventy miles?"
She shrugged. "Only twenty if'n they take the footbridge."
The man gestured at the horses behind them. Finn noticed that both animals had a pair of leather scabbards, one on either side, and each scabbard held a shotgun. There were also large packs balanced on their rumps. "Cain't take them across. Wouldn't be possible."
"No, but one of us can ride around with one of the boys. The other ones can take the bridge. We'll meet up on the other side. Them boys won't make it walking the whole way round."
"You know I don't like splittin you and me up, Jenny, specially not now with all the recent activity."
"Activity?"
"More ferals lately. Been trying to figure out where they's comin from."
"Well, we can't just let them go by themselves, neither, Adrian. They won't last long."
"More Wraiths?" Bix echoed. He looked worried. "Finn?"
Finn shook his head with indecision. There was no way he was splitting up. And the proposal to do so just felt shifty. Besides, if they did, he feared Bix might end up telling them more than he should. The couple might truly be able to help them, more so if they knew more details, but he just couldn't get the feeling out of his head to be careful around them.
You're just being paranoid.
Maybe so, but if and when they shared their story, Finn wanted it to be on his terms, not theirs.
"We're not splitting up," he told them. "And I don't think it's fair to expect you two to do so, either. Nor is it fair for us to slow you down. Show us where this footbridge is, and we'll take it across. Give us directions and we can meet you two on the other side."
He paused, before adding, "And thank you for the invitation. It's very generous of you to offer to help us, we being complete strangers."
Jennifer nodded. "I think that's best, don't you, Adrian?"
Adrian slapped his knee. "In that case, we'll make camp before it gets dark."
Finn looked around. "Somewhere a little flatter maybe?" He could see himself rolling down the slope toward the road in his sleep.
Adrian patted Finn's shoulder. "Yer a natural born leader. Sharp, adaptable."
He leaned over and placed his other arm around Bix. Speaking in a low voice that they were all obviously meant to hear, he said, "And I do believe you have just made my Jenny the happiest woman this side of the Miss'ippi."
The first Wraith found the bus shortly after Jonah and Danny left to check the garage.
The light had failed much more quickly than any of them had expected, and the passengers had gathered near the front to watch for their return. They strained their eyes into the gloom and silently implored them to hurry up. When the scratching came at the back door, one of the Rollins boys wondered if that might be Jonah and Danny. He was reaching for the handle to open it when Hannah started to scream.
Harrison Blakeley was there, and he pulled her tight against him, his hand clamped over her mouth. "Be still!" he whispered.
The creature pawed again at the door.
More soon followed, appearing out of the shadows stretching across the road behind them. Bren let out a stifled yelp and jumped out of her seat when a hand appeared at the window beside her. She stumbled across the aisle, pointing and whimpering. Skeletal fingers, the skin pale and shiny, curled over the half-pane, leaving greasy streaks on the glass. The nails clacked against the metal, sounding like rattling bones.
"What do we do?" Fran Rollins hissed. "Harry— Oh my god! There's more coming! What do we do?"
He pushed her and the boys into a seat on the right side of the bus, where the windows were mostly intact, and told them to get down out of sight.
Harrison Blakeley made his way up the aisle at a crouch and urged everyone to keep absolutely silent. "Get down. Don't let them see you. No lights. No noises."
A Wraith scratched at the front door, as if it knew this was where it might get in. Nami sat near the front. He watched it in frozen horror, though he couldn't see it very well because of the shadows. It appeared to have caught the Flense recently. Its skin showed minimal sag, and its arms weren't as emaciated as he'd seen before.
Maybe it's been eating well.
It pressed its cheek against the glass. The skin was a pale shade of gray. It still had most of its hair.
The creature stepped back, giving him a clearer view of its body, and he shuddered. Most of its clothes had fallen or been torn off. Dark brown blood covered it from chin to genitals. Its eyes glistened like obsidian pools.
A second joined it, this one significantly more emaciated. With hands that were more claws than fingers, its nails twisted and yellow, this one was made of the stuff of nightmares. Flayed ribbons of flesh, whatever had been its last meal, clung to its lips.
"Be quiet," Kari whispered to the girls, Hannah and Bren. They'd squeezed into one of the seats and were hugging one another. "Get down on the floor and hush."
She passed them to he
lp with Jasmina and the baby. The poor woman had not let go of Jorge since they'd left the bunker, and the child's silence now troubled her. But she saw him give a weak kick. He seemed to sense the group's need for silence.
"Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling down next to them.
Jasmina nodded. Her body was visibly shaking.
Something scratched the side of the bus just below their window, eliciting a chirrup of fear from the woman. Kari gestured for her to get down onto the floor, urging her to move slowly. Then she got up and went back to check on the girls, keeping as low a profile as possible.
"We need to warn Jonah and Danny," Nami told her, meeting her halfway up the aisle.
"How?"
He shook his head. "I don't know, but there are more coming. There must be seven or eight out there now. And it's dark enough that they might not see them until it's too late."
"No!" Harry said urgently. "We need to go!"
"We can't just leave them out there."
"That's exactly what we need to do, Kari!" He gestured about them, accidentally rapping his knuckles on one of the seat support posts. The sound drew a fearful hiss from several people. "We're endangering ourselves and them by not doing anything. You heard what Jonah said. He told us to leave, to draw them away."
Nami nodded. "If they hear the bus start up, they'll know. They'll find someplace to hide until we can come back."
"We can honk," Kari tried. "Warn them. Then we pick them up as we pass the garage."
"They may no longer be there!" Harry shook his head. "They've had more than enough time to check the place out and come back. Something happened and either they're in trouble, they're holed up, or they know we're in trouble. Either way, we have to leave—"
The silence was suddenly broken by an explosion of coughs. The noise swept through the bus, which shook from the force of Jonathan's fit.
"Dear lord," Fran whimpered. "Someone help him! Make him stop."
But it was too late. Drawn by the noise, the Wraiths at the front door began to move along the side of the bus, at first slowly, then with increasing speed. Their movements went from passive curiosity to a sort of frantic excitement. They patted and scratched at the metal.
Condemn (BUNKER 12 Book 2) Page 3