The Roadhouse Chronicles (Book 3): Dead Man's Number

by Cox, Matthew S.

  “Aw, shit.” The man with the armor made out of tires chuckled. “Yeah, I figger this don’t look so good. We found the little thing like that. She don’ talk much ’cept to ask us to get them things offa her. We was south a ways from here, scavvin’, an’ find this strip mall looks in good shape, so we start with the left side, figurin’ we work our way across.” He made a chopping motion with his hand in the air as if to indicate several discrete spaces. “First spot’s this ’lectronics place, but there ain’t nothin’ useful there. When we walk out, this one comes hopping up to us from a grocery mart two spots over. After we checked the place out ta make sure she’s alone, we put ’er in the truck and started headin’ home right away. Oughta get there like two ’er three t’morrah.”

  “Name’s Ray.” The man in olive drab offered a hand to shake. “That’s Larry… we ain’t get no name outta the little one yet. Think the only words she knows are ‘take bad metal off.’”

  The girl tugged at the cuffs on her wrists. “Bad metal. Want off.”

  Ray let out a resigned sigh. “Best I figure, she’d been livin’ on her own for quite a while. Had to be hundreds of empty cans in that market. She had a little nest built up inside the shelves made outta sleeping bags an’ stuffed animals. Probably two or three years livin’ there based on the number o’ cans.”

  “Hey.” Kevin waved at the girl. “Are these two telling the truth?”

  The girl stopped fidgeting and stared at him. Dark green eyes radiated worry and frustration in equal measure. She stared at him for what felt like two solid minutes of silence, before the anxiety in her expression faded to hope. “I ’lone. Live by self. Angry mans catch me when I outside ’sploring.” She raised her arms and rattled the handcuffs. “They chase. Hold down. Put bad metal. Hate bad metal. Angry mans take me away home. Put me in box an’ go to bad place. Sickers get ’em. They not come back. Angry mans sickers now. I kick box. Break box. Go home.” She snarled at the cuffs on her legs. “Hate bad metal. No run. Slow walk. Hard eat.” The girl twisted and pulled at both pairs of handcuffs until she got angry to the point of crying. “So hate. No want bad metal. Can’t break. Try lots.” She stared at him for long pleading moment before continuing in a quieter voice. “Scared people. Hide many lots. I…”

  “Poor kid,” said Ray.

  She leaned into the man in green. “Not scared Ray. He laughing smiles. He not bad. He take ’way bad metal. Promised.”

  “Wow,” said Larry. “That’s more words come outta her in that minute than since we found her like five hours ago.”

  The girl hooked the cuffs on her wrists over one knee and pulled at her arms until her hands turned red, then slouched and gave up with an annoyed sigh. “Hate angry mans for do this me. Good they sickers.”

  Kevin rubbed his chin. “How long have you been alone?” He glanced at Ray. “She probably hasn’t talked much in a while.”

  The girl looked confused, opened her mouth, and furrowed her brow. “I ’lone lots days. Mom Dad went ’way ’an I little. ’Lone…” She tried a few non-words on for size before scowling. “Years.”

  “She just sat in the back seat curled up like a cat the whole ride.” Larry stifled a laugh. “Kid doesn’t understand blankets. Thought we were trying to hurt her.’”

  “Itches!” yelled the girl, shivering.

  Ray chuckled. “Pulled a spare shirt over her head, but she didn’t like having her arms pinned either. Took that shit right off.”

  The girl pouted at her lap. “Ray said help. Hate bad metal. I happy sickers got angry mens.” She snarled. “They ’zerve be sickers.”

  “We ain’t got the tools ta cut them things with us. Takin’ her back up ta Douglas Grove. Nice ol’ settlement there. Get her loose once we get home. Paulie’s got a set of bolt cutters oughta work.” Ray gave her an apologetic look. “A night here and a couple more hours on the road, an’ we’ll get rid of them things.”

  She grasped her knees and stared down, seething with obvious discontent. “’Kay.”

  Kevin looked at Tris and waved for her to come over. “I think we might be able to help now if you want us to try.”

  The redhead growled, pulling at her arms and kicking her legs, rattling. “Hate bad metal! Make gone now!”

  Ray gestured at the girl in a ‘be my guest’ manner.

  Tris jogged over.

  “They found her like this.” Kevin put a hand on Tris’ back. “Sounds like this kid’s been avoiding people for a couple years. Someone grabbed her while she was out exploring, but she got away. She’s been stuck for a while. Still got your lockpicks?”

  “I hide.” The girl leaned into Ray. “Scared. Not want ’lone, but people bad. See home and come wanna steal, but I hide next a food in wall hole. No steal. My food.” She frowned at the floor, looking ashamed. “Maybe people help, but I scared. Hide. Now hate bad metal more ’an scared bad people. Can’t run ’way bad people, so hide all people. Hear Ray laugh. Not scared Ray. Ray nice. Ask help.”

  “Oh, you poor thing.” Tris took a knee and opened the compartment in the sole of her left shoe. “Hi sweetie. What’s your name?”

  The girl stared at her as if deep in thought.

  “You have a name don’t you?” Tris looked back and forth from the girl to Kevin, before glancing at the men. “What did people call you? She’s got enough language to have had contact with people at some point. She couldn’t have been on her own too long.”

  “Mom Dad went ’way ’an I six.” The girl’s lip quivered. “Sickers took ’em.”

  Tris scowled at the floor. “I’m sorry…”

  The child grimaced while trying to wriggle a hand out of the cuff. “Not talk… longs time. Uhh.” She stared with rapt attention at a thin sliver of metal in Tris’ hand. “Name Kay-bee.”

  “Kimmie, Kadie, Kimberly?” asked Tris.

  She shook her head.

  “Kaylee? Katie?” asked Kevin.

  The girl’s expression lit up. She nodded. “Kay-tee. Mom Dad call Katie.”

  “Katie it is.” Tris grasped the girl’s hand and turned her arm over. “She’s been stuck in these long enough to grow. They’re way too tight. Hold still, okay? I’m going to get these things off you.”

  “Pease!” Katie trembled with anticipation; she cried, but the tears seemed borne of frustration. “Want off. Make angry. Hurt. Hard eat. No run. Fall lot.”

  Tris raised the girl’s arm to study the cuff, poking at it with the shim.

  “Maybe whoever caught her was just a cruel son of a bitch and tightened them too much?” asked Kevin.

  “I’m gonna see if that guy has anything that’ll fit her.” Larry unbuckled his tire armor and left it on the table. “Before he passes out thinkin’ we’re gonna shoot his place up.”

  Ray chuckled. “Tellin’ you man, ditch that steel belted crap. Makes you look like a bandit.”

  “You do kinda look like a raider,” said Kevin past a grin.

  “I need armor.” Larry stood.

  “That’s not armor.” Kevin winked. “Any real gun’d go right through it.”

  Larry held his arms to the sides, smiling. “Yeah, but most people use swords and shit.” He walked backward a few steps smiling, turned, and strode up to Ben.

  “There’s all kinds of dirt packed inside. This is going to be pain in the ass.” Tris scraped the shim about, using it to clear crud from the mechanism. “How long have you had the bad metal?”

  Katie sat so still she seemed to have stopped breathing, watching Tris work. “I got catched ’an it hot. Got cold, an’ now hot ’gain. I try everything break, but bad metal no go ’way. Swim not fun. Try all break bad metal. Rock hit. Not work. Then put”―she gestured as if smearing something around her wrists―“white slippy. Not good. Not break.”

  “Summer to summer? A year?” asked Kevin, eyebrows up. “You’ve been alone for a year?”

  The girl shook her head. “I ’lone from six. Much long than have bad metal.” She tugged her legs apart
to make the chain rattle. “Had bad metal year.”

  “How old are you now? Nine?” Tris emitted a triumphant squeak as the cuff popped open.

  “Yay!” Katie bounced in her seat. “I dunno old. I not six.”

  “She looks about nine or ten.” Kevin jumped at a sudden touch from the side.

  Abby clung to him, her gaze locked on Katie. She seemed terrified at the sight of the handcuffs, as if they’d somehow leap off the redhead and fix her to a bed while Infected swarmed in. Kevin put an arm around Abby.

  “Don’t figure she’s got much of a concept of time passing,” said Ray. “She had to be living there a couple years, but could’a been early fall to now. Couple months… who knows. Seems kinda unlikely for a kid to survive so long on her own, but she had a perfect setup in that store. Like some kinda squirrel, she’d put all the canned food in the vents where no one could get to it but a kid.”

  Tris shimmed the cuff off the girl’s other wrist after a moment of scraping black crud out of it, and tossed them on the table. Abby leaned away as if they emitted lethal radiation. Katie stretched her arms out to the sides, beaming. She leaned over to Ray and grabbed at him, clinging to his arm. He pulled her into his lap and turned her to put her feet up on her former chair to make it easier on Tris. The cuffs around her ankles had more damage than the others, like she’d worked them over with rocks and hammers. Mud, paint, oil, and a few traces of cooking lard lurked inside the mechanism.

  Larry returned with a brown army-style T-shirt. He tried to pull it over her head, but she whined and pushed at it. He shrugged and set on the table. “He ain’t got nothin’ kid-sized. That’s the best I could find.”

  “Damn. She beat the shit out of these.” Tris bit her lip and tried to force the shim into place. “Can’t say I blame her.”

  “Openin’ locks… That’s a handy skill to have,” said Ray.

  “Yeah well.” Tris grasped Katie’s foot to hold her still. “I got a whole lot of skills I didn’t think I’d need. This is much easier when they’re on someone else.”

  Kevin raised an eyebrow.

  Ray went to pull the shirt over Katie’s head again, but she flailed and whined, so he gave up.

  Katie hissed and tried to tug back on her leg. “Ow.”

  “Sorry.” Tris paused. “I… can’t imagine spending a year locked up like this. I’d have gone crazy. VR was bad enough, and that was only an hour.”

  “Kinda strange. Who’d they think would grab you that you’d need to learn how to escape those things?” Kevin scratched his head. “Why would Nathan load you up with that sort of skill set?”

  Tris looked at him. “How should I know why that bastard does anything? Why’d he give me hand to hand training?”

  “So you could survive to get to the resistance probably.” Kevin chuckled. “If he believes those historical documentaries too, he’s gotta think the world out here’s a lot worse than it is.”

  “Pease!” yelled Katie. She grabbed the chain between her ankles in two hands and pulled at it. “No stop.”

  “Please.” Tris got back to work.

  “Please?” asked Katie, slower.

  “Right.” Tris grumbled. “This is going to pinch a little, okay?”

  Katie nodded.

  The girl emitted a muffled whine as Tris forced the shim in. After a bit of wiggling it back and forth, the cuff popped open. It took another thirty seconds or so to get the other one off. The second it released her, Katie hurled herself on Tris while emitting a loud screeching cry that caused Ben to dive for cover. Kevin grabbed the girl from behind, fearing she’d gone full feral, but the redhead broke into joyous cries for a few seconds before she leapt away and sprinted across the room.

  Katie climbed up onto the counter and ran down the length, her reckless dash punting a few bowls of peanuts to the floor. At the end, she jumped from the counter to a nearby table, knocking it over, and darted, squealing with glee down the rear corridor, her calf-length hair trailing after her like a phantom.

  “Well that’s… different.” Kevin blinked.

  Happy screaming outside grew louder, drawing toward the front door—and right on by. A moment later, her cheering passed around the building a second time.

  “If I’d been stuck like her for a year, I think I’d go a little crazy too at being able to move again. I doubt she’d been trapped like that for all that long though, or she’d be limping.” Tris scowled at the rusty metal. “Change of plans. I want to take a detour to find those bastards.”

  “They’re already dead.” Kevin gave Abby a reassuring squeeze. “At least the kid seems to think Infected got them. I’m guessin’ she calls them ‘sickers.’ You said a bullet would be too good for anyone who’d do that to a kid. Sounds like you got your wish.”

  “Bad scene on the way inta that town,” said Ray. “Looked like an old city hall building. We cut down twenty or so on our way ta this little orange and white U-Haul trailer. They’d rigged it with a pull bar into some kinda wagon. Makes sense now. We found a smashed crate in the back. Couldn’t figure out what kind of beastie they had in it since it looked busted open from the inside. I think she kicked her way out. Sumbitches nailed the lid on too. Good thing the wood was old and brittle.”

  Kevin nodded. “If that wagon was still there, couldn’t have been that long ago.”

  “A few weeks in cuffs would’ve felt like years to her.” Tris shivered.

  “Oy.” Larry nodded. “Figger they nabbed her, an’ saw ’dat buildin’ on the way out, ’cided ta stop in and check it. Lucky fer her.”

  “Found her at this strip mall about two, three miles north of the downtown. Little creek goin’ behind it in a culvert. I can’t imagine how anyone could tolerate livin’ alone for so long, much less a girl her age.” Ray shook his head. “Kid’s tough.”

  Katie raced in and jumped on Tris again, hugged Ray, pounced on Abby, hugged Larry, and zipped off to run two more laps around the room before skidding to a halt on all fours and scarfing up the peanuts that she’d spilled earlier, eating them shell and all.

  Abby made an annoyed face at her dress where the other girl had smeared dirt on her, brushed at it, and sighed. The same woman emerged from the back to talk to Ben. Katie jumped up, wrapped her arms around her, and grinned.

  “Hiiiii,” chirped Katie.

  “At least she’s happy,” said Larry.

  “I kind of expected her to be a little more wary of people.” Ray shrugged.

  Tris put her hands on her hips, watching Katie continue to run around. “You showed her some people are nice. She probably thought everyone would try to grab her again. She’s gone the other way―she wants the opposite of alone.”

  Abby looked from Katie to Kevin. “Isn’t she gonna put the shirt on? She’s not going swimming.”

  “That’s all she’s known.” Kevin patted Abby’s shoulder. “She’s wild.”

  Katie, a little winded after another few minutes of racing around, bounded up to the table and halted standing at Larry’s side. She helped herself to what remained of his fried potatoes, cramming handful after handful in her mouth while breathing hard through her nose.

  Ben walked over with two mason jars full of homemade beer and one with water. He gave the men a ‘please control her’ look before going back to the counter by way of picking up the table she’d knocked over.

  Katie rubbed her bruised wrists and beamed at Tris before hugging Ray again. She reached for one of the beers, but Ray switched it for water. Trails streamed down her front as she tried to drink too fast. Ray pulled down on the end of the jar, slowing her.

  Once she finished, she grinned at everyone. “Thank for kill bad metal. I go home.”

  She started for the door.

  Ray grabbed her arm. “Hey… You can’t go off alone.”

  “Why?” Katie twisted around to face him, tilting her head. “I got home. Food. Warm.”

  “Well, one thing, it’s a three hour ride by car. You ain’t walking t
hat. Two, I ain’t lettin’ no little kid run off on her own, bare-ass, no weapons, no way to protect herself.” He picked up the T-shirt and pulled it down over her head despite her squirming. “You’re too young to be alone. You need someone ta look after you. There a bunch o’ families back in Douglas Grove would take you in, give ya a proper life.”

  Katie picked at the T-shirt, making faces as if trying to decide if she liked the way it felt. Tris gathered the child’s hair and pulled it out of the shirt before letting it cascade free, which made her less fidgety.

  “You’re right,” whispered Tris while glancing at Kevin. “She looks like she has no idea what a shirt even is.”

  “I no have.” Katie pulled at the fabric.

  “What did you do when it got cold?” asked Tris.

  Katie shrugged. “I stay all day bed. Warm. Run fast outside pee or get can food.” She poked at an orange mark on her leg. “Pillows like best. Yellow bits blech, but eat ’cause food. Two cans day make last.”

  “Kid’s got life figured out. Too cold out? Spend all day in bed.” Larry reclined and sipped beer. “That’s the life.”

  “You ate pillows?” asked Tris.

  Now I get it. Kevin chuckled. “Canned ravioli… the orange spots all over her are sauce stains. Ugh. That kid was eating fifty-year-old food. No wonder she’s so damn skinny.”

  “Not that it’s an option, but do you really wanna be alone all the time?” Ray ran his hand over her head. “Don’t you wanna be with people?”

  “I ’lone ’cause scared.” Katie looked around at everyone before grabbing Ray’s hand and pressing it to her cheek. “Y-you want me stay? Real? I can?” Her eyes widened, her lower lip quivered ever so slightly. The genuine disbelief in her expression weighed on Kevin’s heart. “You want me?”

  Tris gave Kevin the ‘if he doesn’t, I will’ look.

  “Now look at that face and tell me you’re gonna give her to some other family.” Larry raised one of the beers to his lips. “Guess you’ll be surprisin’ Tabitha with a daughter.”