Jess interrupted her. “Muertos?”
Taneesha nodded quick, tight nods. “Yeah. They the ones that thinks them…”—she waved a hand through the air—“things locked up in the tennis courts and the pool is…” Her eyes darted down to Bryan. Trying to spare him the truth, she finished by mouthing the word ‘dead.’
Jess gave a slow, understanding nod. “So which one are you?”
“Me?” Taneesha asked, her other hand to her chest. “Ain’t gonna lie. I was on the fence, leaning to the Infirmaries’ side. I just couldn’t believe… didn’t wanna believe them folks was, well, you know. I mean, how can folks still be walking around if they’s just…? I’m still having a hard time with it. Me and Lenny, we gone round and round ‘bout it. Some days, he wins. Some days, I win.”
“And today?”
Taneesha sighed, her eyes glassy. Then, she dipped her chin toward the source of the smell.
“Jesus,” Jess managed, her fingers pinching her nose. Somehow, actually seeing the body accentuated the stench ten-fold.
“Anyway, Lenny made us leave the Alamo. I’s supposed to take all the children, but they parents wouldn’t let me take ‘em.” She blinked, trying to clear tears. “Jess, we need to leave this place. Them people… Dr. G? She ain’t right. Something’s done snapped in that girl. Them Infirmaries? Hearing ‘em talk, I think they’d just as quick kill the real living to save them folks they think’s just sick.” She visibly trembled, and it seemed to transfer to Bryan’s shoulder and into the boy himself.
A scary feeling surged in Jess, and she wondered if she hadn’t condemned her cousin to death by asking Luz to lock him up in a room somewhere in the Alamo.
“Is the Janitor kosher? Is he on the up-and-up? Can we trust him?” Her cadence sped up, fear lighting her eyes and tone.
“Lenny says the Janitor’s as kosher as they come. The real deal. He knows what’s up. But Lenny says he’s scared for him. Thinks that if Dr. G. gets enough folks thinking like her…”
“I’m scared they’re already there. That meeting this morning…”
“I was in there. I know.”
“What swayed you, Taneesha? To the… Muertos… side?”
Taneesha pinched her lips together until they looked like a fresh thin scar on her face. Finally, she said, “Ain’t gonna lie. My brother. I trust him with my life. He and the Janitor, they’s tight. He trusts the old geezer. Loves that man.” She swiped at her eye, patted Bryan’s shoulder. “The Janitor, God love him, was at the old building with our pop. Took good care of him. Made him comfortable his last days. I just thank the lord that pop didn’t have to see all this.”
Jess nodded, then touched Taneesha’s arm.
Continuing, Taneesha said, “My mind says people who ain’t alive shouldn’t be walking around. But Lenny says they is, and they do.” She sighed heavily, squeezing Bryan’s shoulders. “I don’t wanna believe it, ‘cuz believing it means…”
Jess simply shook her head, eyes diving to the dirt. She knew what Taneesha was getting at. Accepting that the dead now walked meant a myriad of childhood horrors were now reality. And she felt sorry—no, terrified—for any child that would have to grow up in the world as it now existed. If that child got to grow up at all…
This discussion, the subject… Jess was losing focus. Losing hope. And if she didn’t take a breath, she’d lose consciousness. “What now?”
“Lenny told me to take the children, hide by the waterhole ’til him and Randy come for us.”
Crouching, Jess looked at Bryan. “You okay, Bryan?”
He nodded, shifting Charlie in his arms. She could see the dirt trails on his cheeks where tears once ran.
Taneesha eyed Bryan from above. “He says he feels really bad about that box he gave to that man. Says he didn’t mean it, that he didn’t know Doc was a bad man.”
Now fully kneeling in front of Bryan, Jess said, “Oh, sweetie. Please don’t feel bad, okay? You had know way of knowing Doc wasn’t a nice man. There was no way you could’ve known that.”
Bryan smiled a weak smile, sniffled, then nodded. He rubbed his cheek against his puppy’s head. Charlie squirmed in his arms.
Motioning toward the downed body in the bushes, Jess asked, “Did you have to… you know…?”
Taneesha responded almost exactly as Bryan had, with the exception of rubbing her cheek on Charlie’s head. “We was hiding in the bushes, like Lenny done told us to. Only’d been in there maybe a minute or two, when he wandered up. Was behind a tree and didn’t see him. Smelt him, but didn’t see him. I knifed him good. Thank the lord Lenny made me take that knife. I wasn’t gonna…” She took a deep breath. “Told the boy to turn his head, so he didn’t have to see, but he saw anyway. Asked me after if I was making the man better.”
“Making the man… better?”
“Yeah. Says… David right…?” She looked to Bryan for confirmation. He nodded. “Right. David says when he stabs ‘em, he’s making ‘em better. Says David made his sick Grampa better.”
“Oh.”
This concerned Jessica. Deeply concerned her. She believed it was important to be upfront with Bryan, so that he understood the dangers. The reality of the situation, of life and death. Ignorance was simply a shroud of faux safety that provided no protection, serving only to hinder chances of survival. Chances at life. Ignorance was most definitely not bliss. If the boy thought shufflers were just ‘sick,’ that someone could make them ‘better’ with the stick of a knife… well, he was on the path to even more confused thinking, maybe even more off track than the Infirmaries. And that was dangerous thinking. Very dangerous. What if someone alive was just truly sick with the flu? Would Bryan think it was okay to just stab them? She made a mental note to have a crucial conversation with David regarding his views and teachings when it came to Bryan. She’d talk to the boy if need be. And she’d be glad to do it.
“Did Lenny give you an ETA?”
Taneesha shook her head. “Just said hide back here ’til they could get the others rounded up. Him and Randy’s supposed to be on watch now, said they’d sneak down here when they could. He had to be really worried to have us come out here, where the rattlers wander.”
And it was that last statement that resonated with Jessica, that made her realize just how dire things had very suddenly become at the Alamo.
Chapter 16
Lenny pushed through the back doors of the Alamo, Randy on his heels. “So I told ‘em to go to the—”
They stepped onto the loading dock. And just stared, jaws unhinged.
“Holy shit,” Randy said finally.
Lenny’s chest heaved a heavy breath, eyes rolling over bodies that once claimed the tennis court cement as home. Now, those same bodies staked another claim—the palisade fence surrounding the Alamo. Pressed up against it, they resembled a writhing second fence of sorts. A fence that comprised slowly decaying flesh and bone and blood.
The bodies blocked the gate. Teeth gnashed. Jaws snapped. Groping hands waved between the bars. The growls. The groans. It was a mesmerizing sight. One neither man hoped that they’d have to lay eyes on again so soon.
“All that work… How’d they get out, ya think?” asked Randy. “The Infirmaries?”
A shallow head shake. “Don’t know. Just… don’t know. But I don’t think them Infirmaries would do this. They’s the ones made us put ‘em in there to start with.”
They just gazed for another disbelieving minute, neither man ready to face such a malicious mob.
“Luz?”
Lenny glimpsed Randy. “Doc G.?”
Nodding, Randy said, “Think she turned them loose? Let ‘em out?”
“To stretch they legs? Go for a stroll?” Another shallow head shake. “I don’t think so, my man. Turning ‘em loose… that’d just put ‘em in more danger, ya know? Risk ‘em wandering off… getting killed. According to her, anyway.”
“Then who…?”
The thought seemed to cross their minds at the same instant, a
n understanding of three young druggies wronged, their only recourse of revenge to let the dogs out, as it were. Make a mess they’d never have to clean up, because they’d be long gone.
“Damnit,” Randy muttered.
“Uh-huh.”
“It was locked up, wasn’t it?”
“Must’ve picked it or sawed it somehow.”
Randy studied his friend’s face, looking for and finally finding that light bulb of realization.
Lenny said, “One of ‘em was walking awful funny.”
“Like how?”
“Like… he had something stuffed off in his britches. Like…” Lenny slapped a massive palm to his forehead, rocking his head back.
“What? Like what?”
“Like bolt cutters.”
Eyes darting about, Randy thought on it, finally nodding in understanding. “TJ managed to get a pair of bolt cutters down his pants?”
“Had to. That punk thought he was gangster. Baggy-ass pants. Plenty of room for something like that. Damn.” He made a fist, prepared to pound something, realized there was nothing around to punch. Unable to vent his vexation, he dropped his fist to his side, flexed his fingers and popped his joints instead. “Oughta check up front. See how far these things done wandered.”
With heavy legs, they descended the steps, started slowly around the building while hazy eyes beyond the steel watched. Followed. Anticipated.
Finally ripping his own gaze from the hungry horde, Randy said, “So Taneesha and the kids are by the stock pond?”
“Mmm, hmm. Waiting for us on the south side by the service road. Infirmaries ain’t gonna look there. Not at first, anyways. Told her we’d take off from there.”
“What about just bailing in one of the cars? Or the Dodge? Could pile everyone in the bed of the truck and it’s full of gas…”
Shaking his head, Lenny said, “Naw, too chancy. Wanna slip out tonight. If they sees all the vehicles still here, take ‘em longer to suspect we’s gone.” He curled his fingers around the hatchet blade holstered on his hip. “Your friend…”
“David?”
“Yeah, David. Ain’t he leaving? Business to take care of?”
“Jess said he was.”
“Change his mind?” Lenny asked, tossing his head back toward the Dodge still parked near the loading dock.
Randy shrugged. “Didn’t think so. I’ve never seen him so… angry. Just so… I don’t know… I don’t think there’s a word to describe how pissed off and upset he was. I’m honestly scared for him. I think he’s seriously willing to die going after this guy.”
“You blame him? I mean, that’s just evil—chopping off his wife’s hand like that…” A visible, massive shiver went through the muscleman.
“Well, yeah, kind of, I do. I mean, his wife left him before this whole mess started. Didn’t even have the decency to tell him to his face. Wrote him a ‘Dear John’ letter.”
“That’s cold, bro.”
“Yeah, that’s what I said. But David loves—loved—Natalee. I’d go as far as to say he’s obsessed with her.”
“Or obsessed with the thought of her. Sometimes, when someone thinks they love someone that deeply, they’s in love with a fantasy, not the actual person, ya know? Someone they made up in they head.” Lenny tapped a finger to his temple. “Ain’t the real person. Never was. And that other person can’t live up to that fantasy. Both of ‘em get frustrated and mad. Then, when one finally leaves, the other tries clinging onto something that was never there to begin with. If they’d just open they eyes, see what’s in front of ‘em. Usually they’s someone else out there for ‘em, but they never know ‘cuz they too obsessed with ideas of people and what they thought they had, and not what they actually had. Ya know?”
Randy nodded deep nods. “Yeah, I think I actually get what you’re driving at.” A grin etched itself into his thick beard. “Were you a counselor at one time?”
Waving off Randy, he said, “Naw. Just big brother advice to Taneesha when she’d drag them losers home. ‘Course, them losers see her big bro, well.” He flexed a bicep and actually smiled a toothy grin. “She used to think they’s the world and I’d let ‘em know…” He trailed off, soles grabbing the grass. And he stopped, eyes hitched to the front fence. “Oh, hell, naw.” He ripped the hand axe from the loop on his hip, and started trotting toward the front gate, toward familiar faces.
* * *
Lenny slowed his gait as he neared the front fence. He gripped his hatchet tightly, preparing for a confrontation that he’d successfully avoided earlier, but now looked as though might happen, after all.
Randy guessed intimidation and deterrence, not actual dissection and dismemberment, was Lenny’s intent. At least he hoped that’s all Lenny was going for.
Struggling to keep up, Randy called behind him. “What are they doing back here?”
“I’m ‘bout to find out.” He raised his hatchet high for the trio of troublemakers to see, a sharp double-edged stop sign. His deep voice boomed. “You three’s awful brave coming back here. Especially after turning them rattlers loose on us and…”
As the two men had made their way around the building and to the front, several of the shufflers had followed them along the gate, like predatory zoo animals pacing the bars, stalking the spectators, anticipating a break in the barrier. To pounce through. To take a bite. To feed.
Lenny halted, accusing his own eyes of telling lies. He almost started to rub them, to clear away an image that was surely not there. Something was wrong. Bad wrong. A scared look crossed his face like passing clouds, replacing the scowl he wore only seconds ago. “You… y’all’s gonna get bit if… You all’s gotta death wish?”
A new urgency mobilized him, launching his massive frame at the gate.
Randy had just caught up to him. And he now saw and understood the desperation in Lenny’s actions.
“What the hell…?” Randy pushed himself forward despite fatigue and fear. He finally caught up to Lenny, who was fumbling with his keys.
“Wait,” Randy said, laying a hand on Lenny’s arm.
“We gots to get ‘em inside.” He looked up from his keys. “Why ain’t y’all fighting? Why’s you just…” And then Lenny accepted what Randy figured out only seconds before.
“It’s not… it’s not them… Lenny. Not anymore.”
Lenny just stared through the steel bars, his mind rejecting what his eyes were screaming at him.
Randy was right. Laura, TJ, and Mallory were all outside the fence, shuffling right along with the rattlers. And the rattlers were treating them like one of their own. Because the trio now was.
“Jesus,” Randy said.
Lenny’s finger trembled as he pointed to the fresh corpses standing and swaying before them. “They… they gots… signs… on ‘em.”
Randy squinted through thick lenses, a surreal sickness starting through him. What were the chances of all three losing out to a group of shufflers? They were young, healthy, and fast. And armed. Maybe they were too high or messed up on whatever they were snorting, smoking, or injecting to defend themselves adequately. He just couldn’t believe it.
But Lenny was right. All three had what looked like sheets of paper duct taped to their chests. And on each sheet, a word, in black marker.
“David,” said Lenny, pointing at Laura. “That one says, ‘David.’” She also had a box taped to her torso.
Lenny swiped at his brow. He looked shaken, upset.
“TJ’s says, ‘Deliver,’” Randy said, though he was sure Lenny had already read it. “Mallory’s says, ‘To.’”
Repeating the words, Lenny said, “Deliver… to… David. Oh, God. Not again. Surely not again. And not now.”
Randy glanced around, his substantial stomach frothing with fear. “What if he’s out here? Doc? What if Doc’s out here, aiming a rifle at us?” He curled his hand around the bandaged gunshot wound on his left arm, remembering the feel of hot steel in his skin.
Lenny sho
ok his head. “Don’t think so. His beef’s with David. He wants to be sure he gets that box.” He sounded as though he were trying desperately to convince himself.
Again, Lenny pointed at Laura, who was now reaching through the fence, grasping at his extended finger. Her mouth was wide, jaws snapping, her eyes dull, but skin still surprisingly radiant for the recently deceased. She hadn’t been dead long. Not at all. Death had found her only a short time ago.
“Ya think Doc killed them?” asked Randy.
Lenny just shook his head, shock sticking to him, smothering him like soaking wet clothes. “I don’t want to believe it, but…”
“Seeing is believing,” Randy finished for him, answering his own question.
More rattlers were making their way to the front, following the fresher scent of the living and the commotion caused by them being there. They’d begun to engulf the newly dead trio, like water surging, swallowing anything and everything indiscriminately. Drowning in the dead. Eventually, everything would erode away, including the water itself.
“Should we…?” Randy asked, adjusting his glasses.
Slowly, Lenny slid his hand axe back into the loop on his belt, then stared down at the keys in his other hand. For the first time since Randy had met ‘The Lumberjack,’ the former pro-wrestler looked like he simply didn’t know what to do or say. Or think. Didn’t know how to proceed, like he was stuck in time, waiting for someone to punch a button or wind up the clock again. He stood there, deliberating, eyes flicking from keys, to fence, and back. Over and over.
As the seconds ticked by, more of the undead arrived. More of them pressed against the bars, their collective weight challenging the integrity of the fence. The steel emitted creepy creaks and metallic squeaks, cries for help.
I can’t hold them back forever. Do something!
“Lenny?”
The Lumberjack now had his tense gaze focused on the mob before him. Randy noticed his jaws clenching, his breathing deepening, shoulders heaving.
“Lenny,” Randy said again, “are you okay, brother?”
Something was happening inside the towering man. Something more than just clicked inside of him, it actually clanged. Randy swore he could hear it. A shift of sorts. The normally docile, easygoing giant of a man about to do something very much out of character.
Dead South Rising (Book 2): Death Row Page 14