by Ariel Bonin
"We're drawing too much attention," Andrew warned. "Either we get these trucks out—or we go."
Lindsey had to keep her jaw from dropping. "On foot? We'd never make it. What about Jake?"
"I need you to get him and Zoey into the truck. We may only have time to get one vehicle out and they'll be safer in the cab," Andrew instructed. "After that we're gonna need your help."
Robert, Nicholas and Tyler were already working to get the pick-up truck moving, while Kat sat behind the wheel. Ana and Darius covered them, using their usual weapons to keep the area clear of turners—but they were struggling. More and more shambling corpses appeared, pressing down on the unfortunate group.
Charlie went to join the others in their attempt to push the truck from the soggy ground. Meanwhile, Lindsey and Andrew opened the Humvee doors. Caren was comforting Jacob, whose cries were now much louder without the vehicle's shell acting as a barrier.
"Zoey, go with Lindsey to the truck. Caren, will you take Jacob and stay in there with the kids? You have your own little one to protect. I'd feel better having you in there with them," Andrew said as he grabbed two ARs from down by the floorboards. He swung one onto his back and loaded a 30-round magazine into the other. Grabbing two more magazines and shoving them into his back pockets, he ushered the women and his children to Charlie's truck.
When Lindsey went to close the truck door behind Zoey, the teenager stuck her hand out to stop it.
"I can help!"
"Listen to your dad and stay in the truck!" Lindsey ordered, refusing to have a repeat of the incident at the school when she'd lost track of Jacob. She'd never forgive herself if she disregarded Andrew's wishes and something happened to his daughter as a result. They'd gotten lucky with Jacob returning to the ranch unharmed—they probably wouldn't be so lucky the second time around. One thing Lindsey had learned after all this time: don't tempt fate.
With a frustrated grunt, Zoey sat back in her seat as Lindsey slammed the door shut. Jogging over to Andrew, he immediately handed her his loaded assault rifle. Her hands shook as she accepted the weapon. She'd only shot this kind of gun a couple of times and didn't consider it her weapon of choice.
"What about the noise?" she asked warily.
Andrew slipped the extra rifle off his back, took a magazine from his pocket and shoved it into the weapon. "We're past that point. We gotta thin it out, buy some time for them to get the trucks freed."
Looking down at the rifle in her hands, Lindsey inhaled an unsteady breath and then exhaled quickly. She lifted the weapon snug against her shoulder and peered through the scope. She lined up her first shot on the forehead of a recently-deceased female turner and squeezed the trigger. The gun kicked back as she fired and hit her mark, exploding a mist of dark brain matter into the air. She continued to point, aim and shoot, but the turners were relentless.
For a moment, she backed her face away from the scope to get the full picture. The thought of a horde crossed her mind, because the number of turners weren't dwindling—they were growing. The insatiable cadavers were closing in at a frightening speed. One more minute here and they would be in deep, deep shit.
"Andrew!" Lindsey shouted over his rapid gunfire. "We gotta go!"
"I know!" He clearly did not want to give up, but knew they had to. "Come on!" he yelled as they fell back to the truck. Ana and Darius were still there, keeping the turners away from the opposite side. The other four were rushing around, placing split tree branches and various brush under the tires to gain some traction. They returned to the front and Nicholas gave Kat a thumbs up. She pressed on the gas as they put all of their weight against the front of the large truck. It rocked back and forth, but still rested comfortably in its deep ruts.
As the men moved to adjust the branches once more, Lindsey and Andrew kept firing into the onslaught of undead. A male turner dressed in filthy scrubs came up beside Lindsey, his lanky arms outstretched. She went to put a bullet into his face—and her gun let out a hollow click. Realizing that her mag was empty, she pitched the rifle to her back and grabbed for her Glock. As the turner reached for her and she attempted to raise her weapon, Andrew swung his rifle to the right and popped a round into the corpse's skull. The momentum knocked its body to the side where it came to rest with a few of its fallen comrades.
Lindsey released the breath she'd been holding and threw Andrew a grateful glance. He nodded, his blue eyes reflecting relief and a hint of fear. He tossed her his extra mag and she caught it in the air. A roar erupted from behind them and they looked back to see the truck dislodging itself. Brown sludge kicked up from the tires and coated all four of the men. It would have been comical if they weren't surrounded by a swarm of ravenous monsters.
Nicholas called out to Andrew, "There's too many! We have to leave the Humvee! Get in the back!"
Andrew started for the rear of the Ford and Lindsey followed close behind. "What about our supplies?" she asked in a desperate voice.
He shook his head as they reached the tall tailgate. "We'll make do with what we have."
Lindsey flinched as Robert's shotgun blasted from the truck bed above her. At the same time, Charlie's hand appeared over the side.
"Let's go!" he growled.
She reached up and took his rough hand. He hauled her upward as Andrew pressed a hand against her backside, urging her into the truck faster. She swung a leg over the tailgate and fumbled her way in. Andrew and Charlie then helped Ana into the truck. Standing at the edge, she and Lindsey stared down at their men, who were the remaining two.
"Go ahead!" Darius insisted while bringing his ax down on a nearby turner.
Reluctantly, Andrew began climbing into the truck. Lindsey was just helping him inside when she heard Ana holler, "Darius!"
Lindsey glanced up just in time to see the horde converge on Darius. Panic clenched her gut so painfully she found it difficult to breathe. Andrew raised his rifle and shot into the crowd in a frantic effort to make an opening for the other man. Darius wailed his ax into the heads of the two closest turners, which did open up a small space. Lindsey watched him reach for the tailgate, only to have an overeager turner latch onto his arm with its teeth, ripping the flesh away in a spurt of blood.
Ana's eyes widened in shock, her lips parted on a silent cry. In a flash, she withdrew her hatchet and lunged for him. Lindsey grabbed the woman by her shirt and pulled her back.
"No!" Ana screamed, struggling against Lindsey's hold on her. "I have to help him!"
The initial bite caught Darius by surprise, allowing the other turners to close in on him. He roared in pain as multiple corpses tore into his shoulders and neck, ultimately dragging him to the ground in a mess of blood and tissue. Ana fought to get at him, but Lindsey dug in her heels and wouldn't let go of the hysterical woman.
"Dare! No, no, no! Let me go!" Ana sobbed. She struggled momentarily, and then her body went limp under Lindsey's grip. The two women collapsed to rest in the bed of the truck as it lurched into reverse and barreled over a group of unsuspecting turners. Lindsey wrapped her arms around Ana, no longer holding her back, but trying to comfort her. The other woman shook in her embrace and once again Lindsey was brought back to the night of the outbreak. She knew exactly how Ana felt—devastated, shocked, heartbroken…guilty. The last one wasn't necessary, but they all felt it—regardless of their involvement in the other person's demise.
Tears tracked down Lindsey's muddy face as she reflected on her own guilt. Darius's last words at the ranch played out on an unrelenting loop in her mind.
'Let's go to New Canaan. What have I got to lose anyway?'
Chapter 12
Stunned silence cloaked the shattered group of survivors, no one saying a word as the truck wound its way back to the main road. The remaining turners continued to pursue the vehicle but couldn't keep up with it. As the truck veered back onto its previous route, it quickly picked up speed, traveling further south. Andrew knew they would have to find an alternate road, but, frankly,
he didn't care right now. His sad gaze drifted over to Lindsey from where he sat among the bags of supplies. She looked past Ana with red eyes and they exchanged a devastated glance. Andrew rested his head in his dirty hands, overcome with remorse.
So this was the cost...
Lindsey's warning at the ranch about losing people was coming true, blow by blow. Yesterday they lost Nadie, today Darius. Who would it be tomorrow? Lindsey? His children? He couldn't even begin to fathom the idea of it. His daughter had already been bitten by a fucking Iscariot, and then all three of them escaped serious injury in a car accident. He could drive them to the ends of the earth in search of a safe haven, but for what purpose if he lost them all along the way? At that point he might as well just stick a gun in his mouth and pull the trigger.
Andrew lifted his head, blindly taking in the carnage before him. Everyone was covered in a copious amount of mud and gore, their weapons forgotten by the wayside. He tried not to look at Ana, but before these past two days, had never seen her so emotionally exposed. He considered her and Charlie their two strongest group members, maybe not physically, but mentally. They were reserved with their emotions, rarely showing weakness. But this challenging journey was pushing each and every one of them to their limits—and beyond.
Nicholas released his hold on the truck's frame and knocked on the small rear window where the back of Caren's head was visible.
"Pull in here!" he instructed to Kat.
A tall white steeple rose above them, and all but Ana and Lindsey stood as the truck came to a stop. Nicholas lowered the tailgate, jumping down onto the paved ground below. The other men followed, except for Andrew. He remained by the two women, feeling hesitant about what his next move should be. He nervously grasped the rifle strap that ran across his chest and glanced at Charlie and Robert, who were looking on with the same expression. While he felt equipped to handle Lindsey whenever she was upset, he never considered himself good in situations of loss, but, in all honesty, who did?
Lindsey dropped her arms away from Ana and moved back slightly, giving the woman a little space. Andrew sighed and began to scooch down next to Ana, but she abruptly pushed herself up, replaced her hatchet on her belt and leaped off the end of the truck. She stalked off toward the woods, ignoring all the curious and concerned bystanders.
Andrew heard Lindsey exhale heavily and he returned his gaze to her tired face. She lowered her eyes to the filthy truck bed and wiped away her remaining tears, creating obscure smudges in the wet dirt on her cheeks. When she looked back up at Andrew, she shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. Her mouth opened and shut, signifying that she was truly speechless. Andrew came down onto his knees and wrapped his arms around her. She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck as he affectionately rubbed her back. He could feel her warm, uneven breaths against his skin.
As she pulled away, he dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Lindsey's dark eyes sparkled with lingering tears.
"What do we do now?" she whispered, her voice strained and barely audible.
Andrew glanced at the others, who were still waiting nearby. His children and Caren were there now, and it only took him a moment to realize that they were all looking to him for the same answer. They needed to hear from their leader what to do next. Well, they would be sorely disappointed, because he had no fucking clue where to go from here.
He searched Lindsey's lost gaze and said just loud enough for her to hear, "I don't know."
_____
The whole group, minus Ana, ascended the steps of the derelict church. It was located fairly close to the road, with their truck parked in a short loop out front. The left side of the church was edged by a thick forest, while the right side was open to a medium-sized parking lot. All the windows of the church were boarded up and Andrew wasn't that surprised when they found a padlock on the double doors. Nicholas promptly cut the chain with a bolt cutter and Andrew paused for Charlie to take his stance. When Charlie had his rifle raised, he nodded to Andrew, and Andrew opened the door. He entered behind Charlie, shining a flashlight over the dark, musty interior. They were in a cramped entryway that contained two wooden benches, one on each side, and a half-moon table covered with an assortment of programs. Dust particles floated in the beam of light as it touched upon every shadowy corner of the room.
The two men, along with Nicholas and Kat, progressed into the chapel itself. Ten or so rows of pews skirted the center aisle and a crucified Jesus hung from the back wall.
"Clear," Nicholas said from one corner of the room.
"Clear," Kat repeated from the opposite side.
"Don't think anyone's been here for a long time," Charlie stated as he swiped a hand over the back of a dusty pew and rubbed his fingers together to remove the silt-like residue.
Andrew surveyed their surroundings. "I think we should stay here tonight. The covered windows will allow us to have light but keep it contained. We can sleep in the pews. One person can go up in the steeple to take watch. We need to do inventory and, well, sort things out."
All three agreed and went to get the others.
_____
Outside, Lindsey held Jacob as Caren and Robert kept watch. Tyler dug around in the back of the truck, no doubt starting an assessment of their supply situation. Lindsey seemed to recall that their few boxes of food were stored in the Humvee. She really hoped she was wrong about that.
Zoey fidgeted next to her and she knew it was only a matter of time before the girl asked about Darius. She didn't have to wait long. Zoey spoke the words only seconds after her dad disappeared into the church.
"What happened back there? Where did Ana go? And where's Darius? Did he…?" she trailed off with a look of apprehension.
Lindsey swallowed hard and tried to find some comfort by admiring Jacob's sweet face. "We didn't have time to get the other vehicle. All of us made it into the back, but Darius, he…he didn't."
She watched Zoey absorb the news. The girl's young face became sad, her mouth turning into a slight frown. She appeared to be holding back her own tears, which didn't help Lindsey quell her own.
"And what about Ana?" Zoey asked as she glanced at the adjacent woods, where there was still no sign of the missing woman.
"You probably know that she and Darius were together," Lindsey managed to say. "She's upset and needs some time alone."
Zoey was quiet as her expression changed and Lindsey knew from it that there was a question coming. "Why is it that everyone wants to be alone after someone dies? You'd think they would want to be with the other people that are still alive," she mused, openly perplexed about the whole thing.
Lindsey thought about her statement. The kid had a point—yesterday with Charlie losing Nadie, at the ranch when Andrew thought Jacob was dead, after Lindsey saw Jared as a turner—the list went on.
When she decided on an answer, she said, "I think that we're all at our weakest in those moments of loss. We were raised in a society where you're not allowed to show weakness, where grieving out in the open isn't widely accepted. We're expected to be strong, ya know? Suck it up, slap a Band-Aid on it, and put on your big girl panties." Zoey snorted at the last one. "We go off to be alone so no one can see us break down. In those moments, we're not really like ourselves. It's not pretty—we let down all the walls and lose the filters. It's…just what we do."
Zoey nodded in understanding as her father and the others emerged from the church's double doors. Andrew ambled down the steps, his demeanor and filthy appearance suggesting that the day was weighing heavily on him. Lindsey could see just how tired he was when he approached them; the lines in his face seemed deeper and his eyes were absent of their usual spark. However, when he saw Jacob, brightness hinted at his features.
Lindsey allowed a soft smile to cross her lips as Andrew caressed a tender hand over the boy's wispy hair. When he met Lindsey's gaze, she asked, "So what's the plan?"
Andrew sighed and rested his hands on his gun belt. "We're stayin' here tonight.
Need some time to regroup."
As Lindsey agreed, Kat walked by with a hunting rifle. "Hey, Andrew. I found a way up to the steeple. I'll take first watch."
"Sounds good," he responded. The exchange was all business and Lindsey was happy to see the woman still respectfully keeping her distance.
Before they could continue talking, Nicholas and Tyler moved toward Andrew with a troubled look on both of their faces. "We have a bit of a problem," the former cop said.
Andrew rubbed a hand over his scratchy cheek. Lindsey could tell he didn't want to hear it, but the other man carried on anyway.
"All of our food was in the Humvee."
_____
Nicholas's words came crashing down onto Andrew, adding yet another weight to his incredibly tense shoulders. He blew out a breath and scanned the length of road in front of the church. "Zoey and I will search that yellow house across the street. Robert, would you and Caren check out the rest of the church? There's gotta be some kind of refreshment cabinet in there. Other than that, where are we with supplies?" he directed toward Tyler.
"It appears that we have all our personal belongings and sleeping bags, most of our guns and ammunition, and half of our fuel supply. The other vehicle had mostly camping gear and the rest of the fuel. Oh, and our food."
Yeah, I got that, Andrew wanted to snap. It wasn't Tyler's fault, but knowing that their volume of fuel just got cut in half did not improve his mood in the least. They had priorities to focus on though—food, water and shelter—the last already having been established.
"Charlie, why don't you go out back and see if there's a hand pump for the well?" Andrew suggested, and got a nod from the other man.
"Tyler and I will start bringing in what we can use tonight," Nicholas cut in, prohibiting Andrew from giving him any direct orders. It didn't bother Andrew though, so long as everyone had a job to do and did it willingly.