“That thing?” She jerks a thumb towards the truck. “Good luck with that.”
“I’ll figure something out,” I say.
“Fine,” she says. She turns to glance at the soldier beside her. “Give her the key for cuffs, Hernacki,” she orders.
“What key?” he asks.
“Christ,” she sighs. “Open your survival kit.”
Hernacki sets his pack down on the table and digs out a soft-cover kit. He retrieves a handcuff key and steps behind me to unlock the cuffs. Then he returns to Steven and removes his restraints as well. Jess crosses her arms and watches me from behind her sunglasses. I rub at the indents in my wrists left by the cuffs.
“We’re normally not in the business of picking up strays, Scout,” says Jess. “But given the circumstances, we can escort you and your friend back to your group on one condition.”
“Okay,” I agree. “Anything.”
“I want you to fill me in on all the details of what happened here and tell me everything you know about Bishop.”
“Fine,” I say. “Thank you, Jess.”
“My friends call me Jess,” she says. The woman gives me a hint of a smile. “You can call me Agent Lorento.”
I nod. There are a million questions going through my mind, but I decide it isn’t the time to press her for information.
“Load him up, too, Hernacki,” Lorento tells the young soldier.
“Hey, Piper,” hollers Hernacki. “Give me a hand getting this guy in the GMV.”
A lanky soldier outside moves to the back of a Humvee and retrieves a stretcher. He hurries inside, slipping past me with a warm smile.
Another pair of soldiers remain outside. I start to wonder just how big this unit is. A burly soldier with hair the color of straw pauses to speak to a black soldier with a heavily bandaged arm.
“Keep your eyes peeled, Morris,” orders the burly soldier before he follows Piper inside. He rests his rifle on his shoulder as he surveys the room. His blue eyes pause on the two women.
“What are we doing with those two?” the soldier asks Lorento.
“We have other priorities, Hoff,” Agent Lorento states. “Just question them and turn them loose unless they have any viable intel.”
“You’re just going to leave them here?” I interrupt.
“Scout,” sighs Agent Lorento. “If you think you can trust them and want to take them in, that’s your business. I’ve got enough problems to deal with already, though.”
“Then they can come with us,” I tell her.
“Suit yourself,” Lorento shrugs. She steps aside to let soldiers carry Steven through the door.
I look around the diner to locate my pack. The majority of my supplies have been dumped on the floor next to the lunch counter. I spot my pack hanging off a chair and grab it and begin stuffing my clothes, binoculars, ammunition and food inside.
“We got incoming,” Hernacki announces as he returns from the truck.
“Bishop?” Lorento asks.
Hernacki shakes his head.
“Couple hundred corpses coming up the road,” Hernacki says.
“Let’s move out,” Lorento orders the soldiers.
Lorento and the soldiers head out the front entrance. I shove the last of my belongings into my pack and spot the bloody knife next to the body on the floor and I grab it. I’m about to get up when I notice something shiny clutched in Owen’s hand. It’s the keys to the truck. Maybe this awful day I’m having is going to turn around after all. I pry open his cool fingers and remove the keys.
I get up to leave and notice the two women still standing next to the table. There is no reason to think that I can trust them, but I can’t bring myself to leave them here to fend for themselves. That’s just not who I am.
“You can die in here or you can come with us,” I tell them as the gunfire erupts outside. “It’s your choice.”
“We’re coming,” says the younger girl as she steps over a body on the ground and hurry toward the entrance.
I follow the two women out the front door as the massive crowd of the undead files into the street from around the next block. The town was nearly deserted a few hours ago, but I recall Arkady mentioning the church was full of the dead. They must have opened the doors and released them all into town to cover their retreat. Crazy bastards.
“Let’s go, Scout,” Lorento yells over the rumbling of the truck engine.
I escort the two women to the military vehicle and they climb into the back seats.
“I’m going for the other truck,” I tell Lorento as I toss my pack in the back of Humvee so it doesn’t slow me down.
“They’re right on top of us,” she yells as I turn and sprint for the truck. “You’ll never make it.”
To hell with that. I’ve been through too much today and it was partly because of that goddamn truck. I’m taking the damn thing with me.
Gunshots ring out behind me and bullets zip by my head as the soldiers provide some cover fire. I don’t know if I am more scared of getting shot or the corpses, but I run like hell. The first corpse reaches the truck before me and I skid to a halt as the dead man in the black suit shambles in between me and the door. A bullet punches the thing in the chest and staggers it for a moment, so I rush at it with the knife in my hand and shove the blade as hard as I can into the eye socket of the corpse. The stiff slides off my knife and onto the ground.
I fling open the truck door and move to get inside but another corpse grabs my wrist as I try to shut the door. A dead woman in a yoga outfit pulls my arm towards its face and opens its jaws. Instead of trying to fight it off, I just yank the door closed on it as hard as I can. The thing lets out a moan as the door shoves its head into the frame of the truck. I still can’t get the door closed, so I open it slightly and pull it hard again as I fumble to get the key into the ignition. The door crushes the skull of the dead woman against the frame again, fracturing her skull and spraying flecks of congealed blood around the inside of the cab.
More corpses begin to surround the front of the truck. The engine sputters alive and I open the driver side door to let yoga pants tumble onto the street. Corpses climb onto the hood of the truck as I grab the shifter and throw the truck in reverse. I slam on the gas and crank the wheel to spin the truck around. The bodies of the dead topple off onto the street. The tires squeal as I throw the truck in drive and punch the gas again.
Once I catch up to the convoy, I look back at the swarm of bodies in the rearview mirror. They still pursue the vehicles even though it would be impossible to ever keep pace. The dead just don’t know when to give up. As we cross the covered bridge and follow the road away from town, I realize we don’t really know when to give up either.
Six
The military vehicles pull to a stop in the gravel parking lot outside the clothing store. I bring the pickup skidding to a stop and head for the door, but when I try the handle, the door doesn’t budge. My knuckles tap the glass a few times.
“It’s Scout,” I say.
Silence.
“James,” I call out and bang a fist on the glass. Something isn’t right. There is no way Bishop got to them before us. He would have gone back to get reinforcements first. There is no sign that anything happened, so I don’t understand why they would just disappear.
“Fawn?” I cup my hand to the window and peer into the darkened store. “Stevie?”
A silhouette shifts inside the building. The figure pauses behind a rack of clothes and studies me. After several seconds, the person approaches the door. The deadbolt retracts, and James pushes open the door and greets me with a smile.
“Saw these big ass trucks coming and we nearly took off running,” he laughs. He steps outside and cocks his head when he notices the bruise on my cheekbone. His eye flick towards the truck and back at me. “What happened?” he whispers.
“Bishop,” I explain. “Steven is pretty banged up.”
Hernacki and Piper lift Steven out of the back of the Humvee.
&
nbsp; “God almighty,” James sighs. He grabs the handle and holds the door open for the soldier. “Come on, get him inside,” he urges.
Once the men pass inside, James follows them through the door and calls Fawn to come help. The soldiers shove papers and bags off the front counter to set Steven down.
“Hurry it up, Fawn,” James hollers as takes another look at Steven.
“I’m coming,” she sighs. Fawn shuffles over from the back of the store, carrying her medical bag and rubbing anti-bacterial lotion on her hands. Her auburn hair is pulled back into a messy bun, which is how she always wears it when she needs to help someone. She takes a look at Steven and starts to tend to his hand first.
“Dad?” calls a soft voice behind me.
I spin around and spot Stevie peering around the corner of the dressing rooms. I hurry across the store and squat down in front of him and grab his shoulders.
“Hey kiddo,” I smile.
“What happened to my dad?” he says. He tries to look over my shoulder to see what is going on in the front of the store.
“He’s okay,” I tell him. I place my hands on his cheeks and pull his face closer to mine to get him to focus on me. “Your dad is going to be just fine.”
When this all began, Stevie watched his dad take a wrench to the things that used to be his mom and sister. The pain of what he experienced is still evident in his eyes every day. Looking at him is almost enough to convince me that it is better off that my own boys will never witness what remains of the world.
Stevie fights back the tears welling up in his eyes. He throws his arms around me and buries his face in my shoulder. The kid is just seven years old and his dad is all he has left of the life he had.
I detect the scent of whiskey and look up to see Nick leaning against a dressing room door. He takes a swig from a bottle and wipes at his haggard face with the sleeve of his blazer.
“Is everything fine?” he slurs.
“Yeah,” I say, even though everything is far from fine. I’ve learned to just avoid talking to Nick once he has the bottle in his hands, which is usually about ten minutes after he wakes up. Everyone has their way of dealing with things, or not. The stubborn man still refuses to take off the damn clothes we found him wearing when he was passed out in a puddle of his own piss in a bowling alley bathroom. Even though he begged us to leave him alone, it didn’t seem right. I’m still convinced there is still a decent person inside of him somewhere.
“Kid must have slipped past me,” Nick groans. He combs his fingers through his graying hair. “Little shit.”
“I got him,” I say. “Can you start packing? We’re going to have to get moving soon.”
Nick shrugs, and then he turns and takes another swig from the bottle as he returns to the back of the store. I take Stevie by the hand and lead him outside to a bench next to the front door.
“Want a candy bar?” I ask him.
Stevie smiles and nods his head.
“Wait here,” I tell him. “I’m just going to grab it out of my pack.”
I turn and head back to the GMV. Agent Lorento leans against the front of vehicle. With her arms crossed, she watches me from behind a pair of sunglasses as she listens to the two women from the diner. I open the back door and unzip my pack and dig through the contents. The candy bar I had in there earlier was gone. I could have left it on the floor of the diner. More likely one of those bastards with Bishop stole it when they went through my stuff.
“Damn it,” I sigh.
“Something wrong, honey?” asks Hoff.
I lift my eyes and notice him sitting behind the wheel, watching me in the rearview mirror. He tosses a handful of sunflower seeds in mouth. I zip up my pack and drop it on the ground beside me.
“My friend that we brought back has a son,” I say.
Hoff furrows his brow. Then he turns and spits a seed shell out the window.
“I was going to give him a candy bar I’d been saving, but now it’s gone.”
“I didn’t take it,” says Hoff.
“I know,” I laugh. “I didn’t mean that. I must have lost it at the diner or those guys took it. I know it’s just a candy bar, but I thought it might help distract him.”
Hoff reaches in the cargo pocket on his pants and pulls out a protein bar.
“Take it,” he says and hands it to me over the seat.
I smile. My heart races for joy at the sight of the protein bar. It's close enough to a candy bar to still bring some joy to Stevie's life. I close my fingers around the wrapper of the bar, but then I hesitate. I lock eyes with Hoff. These days even a gift this small usually comes with an expectation of repayment. The big guy notices my expression and gives me a small nod of encouragement to take the food.
“Compliments of the Navy Seals,” he says.
“Thank you.” I smile and head back to where I left Stevie sitting on the bench. He swings his legs that aren’t long enough to reach the ground and stares at his sneakers. The shaggy mop of dark hair hanging over his eyes makes me feel guilty for not taking the time to trim it when we weren't running for our lives. I know something so small might not be very important considering the state of everything, but a mother always notices these things, I guess. I sit down beside him and start to open the wrapper. He hears the crinkle of the plastic and lifts his head. The sight of the chocolate bar brings a smile to his face. I hand him the candy bar and he takes a bite.
“Thanks, Scout.” Crumbs sprinkle from his mouth as he talks. “My mom never used to let me have candy.”
“Well,” I say. “I’m sure this time it would be okay.”
“How do you know?” he asks as he takes another bite.
“Because if I were your mom, I’d want you to have it,” I smile.
Stevie stops chewing and looks up at me.
“You know you could be my mom if you wanted too,” he says. “I don’t have one anymore.”
I try to smile but looking at the kid beside me just makes me want to cry. He has been hurting so much these past weeks. Maybe I should just tell him what he wants to hear, but I can’t handle the thought of hearing him call me mom. I just want to hear my own kids say it one more time.
“I know it’s hard to understand, kiddo,” I tell him. “But I can’t be your mom.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“That’s just not how it works,” I sigh. “Your mom is always going to be your mom. I could never take her place no matter how much I might want to.”
“Even if she dies?” Stevie asks.
“Sure,” I tell him. “Besides, I’m already your best buddy, and I like that a lot.”
“Me too,” Stevie adds. “You want some?” He holds out the candy bar to share it with me.
“It’s okay. Your dad got it just for you,” I say.
Steven lets out a scream of pain inside the store. Fawn must be relocating his shoulder now. His son stops chewing for a moment.
“He’s going to be fine,” I assure the kid. “Just be sure you remember to thank him when you see him, okay?”
Stevie nods and takes another bite. He holds up a fist in my direction as he chews. I make my hand into a fist and touch it with his then pull my hand back and open the fist and make an exploding noise. Stevie does the same. Exploding fist bumps always make him smile.
I rub his shaggy hair and lean back on the bench so the kid doesn’t notice the anxious expression on my face. Most likely his dad will be okay. His injuries are painful but not that severe. My other concern is that we get out of here before Bishop arrives. He knows we’re close. It’s just a matter of time before he finds us again.
Agent Lorento leaves the women standing near the military vehicles and strides over to the entrance. Her casual pace is that of a person that feels confident and in control of the situation. I’m usually pretty good at reading people, but I am not sure about her motives so her presence gives me an uneasy feeling. She leans a shoulder against a support beam for the storefront porch and smiles at
Stevie when he looks up at her.
“He’s a cutie,” she says to me. “Yours?”
“No,” I shake my head. “His dad is the man you picked up with me.”
Agent Lorento nods. She tilts her head and peers over the top of her sunglasses and squints at Stevie.
“Now I see the similarity,” she says, as if she didn’t believe me without seeing it for herself. “Keeping a kid safe in this kind of environment must be tough. But you seemed to handle yourself pretty good back there.”
“Look,” I sigh. “I know you’ve got some questions you want to ask me so can we just get on with it. It’s just a matter of time before Bishop and his guys come back around looking for us.”
“Piper says he is sure he tagged Bishop as they were getting in the truck. That will slow them down a bit. Plus, they let those corpses loose to make their getaway, so they can’t just drive back through town.”
I sigh and my shoulders relax a bit.
“I was hoping those two girls from the diner would have some good intel,” Lorento continues. “They weren’t as helpful as I hoped. Both of them confirmed what you told me about the underground facility, but they aren’t sure of the location. That’s their story at least,” Lorento smiles. “You mind telling me why Bishop is after you?”
“It’s a long story,” I say.
“Give me the short version,” she insists.
“Well, a couple of weeks ago we stopped to check out this grocery store and ran into a few of their guys on their own supply run. They seemed all right at first, real friendly. Offered to take us in with them as long as the men would fight and the women would put out. When James told them no, they got violent. They were well-armed and outnumbered us, but we managed to escape. The dead got a couple of them. Bishop has had his guys out looking for us ever since. We had no idea what we were getting into then.”
“What do you mean?” Lorento asks.
“I mean, we thought it was just a dozen guys we were dealing with. We had no idea who Bishop was. If we had any idea those guys were part of an army, I don’t know, maybe we wouldn’t have fought back then.”
“Do you have any idea how big this army is, Scout?”
Rise of the Dead (Book 2): Return of the Dead Page 4