“The day you stop giving me a hard time is when I’m really going to start worrying about you, Scout,” Steven smirks.
“Pfft,” I snort. “I’ve been going easy on you until now.”
“If I didn’t know better I’d swear you guys were brother and sister,” Val says.
Steven and I look at each other. I pretend to gag and hold in vomit. Steven makes a face like he smells something terrible.
“Please, Val,” I pat her softly on the knee. “Don’t ever, ever say that again.”
“No, really,” Val smiles. She stares at the wilted flowers in a vase on the coffee table without actually focusing on them. “Me and my older brother were the same way. He could be such a jerk to me sometimes. I guess I was too. I can’t tell you how many times I told him I hated him. Now, I just miss him so much. Even if he was a dumbass most of the time.”
Val lifts her gaze and blinks a few times. She swipes her fingertips across her cheeks, seemingly a bit embarrassed about bringing up the past. Most people don’t want to hear about it. No one wants to remember what life used to be like just a few months ago.
“Sorry,” Val says.
Steven reaches out and places a hand on her shoulder. I wish I could say something to Val to make her feel a little better, but words don’t seem to matter anymore. The only way to avoid the pain is to distract yourself with something else.
“Get something to eat, Val,” I tell her. “You too, Steven.”
“Thanks, mom,” Steven smirks.
I flip him off and grab a ration package for myself and head for the dining room.
Twenty-four
“It may not feel that bad now, but in a few hours it will be more difficult to walk on it,” Danielle explains. “You will have to try and stay off it as much as possible over the next few weeks so it heals.”
“Well, that’s not happening,” Lorento says. She sits on the table now, listening to Danielle. “You got more of those painkillers?”
“You really shouldn’t take more than necessary,” Danielle says. “On a scale of one-to-ten—”
Lorento snatches Danielle by the wrist and clutches her tightly. The sudden movement startles Danielle and she tries to pull her arm free but Lorento pulls her closer.
“Just give me the bottle,” Lorento growls. “I am a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
“What’s going on here?” Blake asks. He steps into the dining room with Fletcher beside him. Blake shifts his gaze from Danielle’s face to make eye contact with Lorento.
“Everything is fine,” Danielle assures him. She tries to pull her arm free again and Lorento finally releases her hold on her. Danielle reaches into a duffel bag on the floor and pulls out an orange bottle with pills rattling around inside the container and hands it to Lorento.
“You got a lot of nerve,” Fletcher tells her. “Putting a goddamn tracking device on me.”
Lorento rolls her eyes. She twists off the white cap on the bottle and removes a pill and pops it in her mouth. I hand her the rest of the water bottle in my hand and she takes a swig from the container and washes down the pills.
“What gives you the right—” Fletcher rushes toward Lorento.
“Easy,” Blake says. He holds a hand out to stop Fletcher from getting in Lorento’s face.
Fletcher shoves his hand away but keeps his distance from the agent.
“Why don’t we just give her a chance to explain what she is doing up here?” Blake says.
Fletcher scoffs and retreats a few steps away. He collapses into a chair at the adjacent table and drops his cowboy hat on the white linen cover.
“I don’t really know where to start,” Lorento says. She twists the cap back on the water bottle in her hands and then loosens it again as she thinks.
“How about the beginning?” Blake says. “What happened after you left the bunker?”
“We stopped at Fort Leonard Wood to refuel,” Lorento begins. “We made radio contact and got the okay to land. Only the base wasn’t under military control anymore. We were ambushed shortly after we touched down. After a brief firefight, we tried to fall back and get the hell out of there, but the helicopter took some damage and we went down in a nearby forest. Lost the whole crew.”
“Ambushed by the same guys that we saw at the airfield today?” Blake asks.
“Bishop,” Lorento clarifies.
“Who are they?” Blake asks.
“A bunch of assholes,” I mutter.
Blake gives me a smile. At least someone appreciates my smart-ass remarks.
“We don’t know much,” Lorento says. “Seems like they are some local militia along with some rogue military. Maybe even a few religious fanatics. They have moved to take control of a large portion of the state of Missouri and re-establish some semblance of government in the region.”
“So what the hell does all this have to do with us?” Fletcher asks.
“There is still an operable V-22 Osprey at Fort Leonard Wood,” Lorento explains.
“But you don’t have a pilot,” Fletcher smirks. “Supposing, just for a second, that I agree to go along with you; where is it you’re planning on going?”
“Once we recover Dr. Schoenheim from Bishop, we would proceed to New Mexico as planned.”
“Jesus,” Fletcher shakes his head and rises from his chair. “Not this bullshit again.” He scoops up his wet cowboy hat from the table and plops it back on his head.
“Chuck,” Lorento says softly.
“Count me out,” Fletcher says. “I ain’t going back into the shit.” He waves a hand as if he could swat the sound of her voice away as he stalks to the lobby and heads for the bar.
“I’ve never met such a baby in all my life,” Lorento complains.
“Same old Chuck,” Hoff chuckles and scoops a spoonful of pudding into his mouth.
“He is coming with us whether he likes it or not,” Lorento says. “Keep an eye on him, Hoff.”
“Don’t worry. He isn’t going anywhere,” Blake says. He pulls out the chair Fletcher had been sitting in and settles beside Hoff.
“I don’t have the same faith in him as you,” Lorento says.
“If the rest of us agree to help, he’ll come with us,” Blake says.
Lorento focuses her eyes on Blake and studies him for a long moment.
“Chuck isn’t so bad,” Danielle says. “Just takes a while to warm up to him.” Her hand casually removes the pill bottle from the table as she picks up the duffel bag and moves it to a nearby table. Her eyes scan the room to see if anyone noticed her, and she pauses when she makes eye contact with me. She gives me an innocent smile, then removes some more supplies from the bag and sets them on the table.
“Let me take a look at that cut, Scout,” Danielle says.
“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I’m okay. Maybe you can check Val’s ankle?”
“Right after this,” she says as she rolls her eyes and gestures to the seat next to the table. I shrug off my wet pack and jacket and collapse reluctantly into the chair. She dabs a bit of alcohol on the cut that makes me growl in pain. My teeth grind together.
“Sorry,” she apologizes. “Tilt your head back.”
Danielle opens a bottle of water and flushes it over the wound. Her hand dips back into the duffel bag and she fishes out a spool and needle. She takes a small spray bottle from the bag and covers my eye with her hand as she sprays a cool mist onto my cheek.
“You’re going to need a few stitches,” Danielle tells me.
I gaze up at the ceiling and try to ignore the sensation of the needle piercing my skin. The spray must have been a local anesthetic like Lidocaine because there is only the dull pain and the strange feeling of my skin pulling away from my face.
“You’re doing great, Scout,” Danielle says. “Hopefully this will keep it from getting infected and minimize any scarring.”
“Would hate to ruin my chances at a modeling career,” I joke. Danielle smiles but stays focused on threadi
ng the stitches as gently as she can. I try to keep still and make it as easy as possible for her even though it’s still pretty uncomfortable. It takes a little effort, but I manage to block out the bitter ranting from Lorento in the background. This Fletcher guy really gets under her skin. In the short time I’ve been around her, she’s been through hell but this is the only time she has really been unable to control her emotions. As Danielle ties off the stitches, Lorento lets out a big sigh and tires of her rant.
“I have to admit, I’m a bit surprised to see the rest of you again.” Lorento says. “Chuck has a lot of survival training, but to see all of you still alive is a little surprising. Even this stinky dog survived,” Lorento says as she looks down at the dog on the floor beside her.
She holds out her hand to let Stitch sniff her but the scruffy dog pulls away from her and lets out a little snarl. Lorento pulls her hand away and looks up to find Quentin shaking his head.
“Sorry,” Lorento says. “I meant that as a compliment.”
“We been getting by okay,” Quentin smiles. “Better than you guys by the look of it.”
“I guess it does seem that way,” Lorento concedes. “What were you doing out here anyway?” Lorento asks.
“Heading west,” Blake says.
“Why?” Lorento wonders.
Blake sits quietly for a long moment. He reaches a hand down and unzips his pack beside the chair and pulls out some kind of device.
“Is that a Geiger counter?” Lorento asks.
“Things on the other half of the country are probably worse than you realize,” Blake explains. “Most of the nuclear power plants in this country are east of the Mississippi. Apparently the majority of them are already becoming unstable.”
“I thought those were all supposed to safely shut down in a crisis like this?” Hoff asks.
“Guess some people must have decided we didn’t need to know how scary the truth was,” Blake shrugs.
“Fucking government,” Hoff grunts.
“How do you know all this?” Lorento asks Blake. I notice she doesn’t seem particularly surprised by anything Blake has to say.
“We ran into someone,” Blake begins. He pauses and glances at Danielle. She lowers her eyes and drops her gaze. She clasps a hand over her mouth as her lip begins to quiver.
“He had traveled too close to a plant that destabilized several weeks ago,” Blake says. “By the time we saw him his symptoms were pretty severe. There wasn’t anything we could do for him except to make sure he didn’t come back. Since then, we carry one of these with us.” He gestures toward the Geiger counter on the table with his forefinger.
“Damn,” Hoff shakes his head. “I think I’d rather be eaten alive. At least it’s over quick.”
“It’s not just that, though. There are chemicals pouring into the air in the cities. All those manufacturing plants that had all sorts of dangerous substances in tanks don’t have power to control the temperature anymore. The tanks are heating up and venting into the atmosphere or blowing up.”
“Oh my god,” I gasp.
“Sounds like the end of the world,” Hoff remarks.
“That’s about what it looks like, too. The Chicago River flooded without any people around to control it. Most of Illinois is quickly becoming a wasteland,” Blake shakes his head. “Seems like even the animals have been fleeing the region.”
The thought occurs to me that the increased population of vultures in the area could be due to a migration from the affected areas.
“What about the corpses?” Lorento asks. “Is the radiation killing them, too?”
“Radiation seems to have no effect on the dead,” Danielle chimes in. “Neither does the mix of toxic gases.”
“Even if we manage to find a way to stop the dead, civilization may already be on the brink,” Blake says. “Things are just going to continue to get harder once winter comes around. Odds are that most of the people who survived this long will still be dead before the end of the year.”
Hoff holds the last spoon of pudding in an unsteady hand. He stares at it in front of his face, but instead of eating it he drops it back into the container on the table. For the next minute, no one has anything to say. The news is terrifying.
“We were headed to the Rockies,” Blake finally says. “It might be our only chance to make it through the next few months alive.”
“We didn’t see anything like that in Missouri,” I say. “We’ve been out there for weeks and we haven’t seen anything like that at all.”
“That makes sense,” Lorento says. “Missouri has long been considered one of the safest regions in the country. Lot of survivalists and doomsday cults have been living out there for years, which has probably helped Bishop to recruit so many people.”
“How many?” Blake asks.
“Several hundred,” I tell him. “Though, that might be a conservative estimate.”
Danielle and Blake exchange a glance. Blake wipes a hand over the dark stubble covering his jaw and considers how to respond.
“How does a group that large survive?” Blake asks.
“They use a huge underground industrial complex,” I tell him. “It’s built into the rock just outside of Springfield.”
“Like a big cave?” Danielle asks.
“Sort of,” I shrug.
“I don’t mean to be Mister Negativity here,” Blake says. “But how do you think a dozen people are going to stop a guy like that from doing whatever he wants?”
A rumble of thunder vibrates the floorboards beneath our feet. I watch as ripples appear in the glass of water on the table in front of Lorento. Stitch lets out a whimper and circles around my chair. I stroke the top of his head to calm him down. Blake looks over at him and retrieves a piece of jerky from his pocket and tosses on the floor for the dog. The dog settles on the ground and starts to gnaw on the meat.
“I don’t think most of the people there want anything to do with Bishop,” I say. “They’re just afraid to go against him. Maybe they won’t even fight us.”
“People that are afraid are the worst kind of people,” Blake says.
“I’m not saying we have to take them all on,” Lorento says. “All that I’m asking you to do is to help me get the doctor back. I don’t care how we go about doing it.”
“Man, I don’t know about this,” Quentin says skeptically. “Sounds like a suicide mission to me.”
“We all gotta die sometime,” Hoff shrugs. “Sounds like it’s going happen soon no matter what we do.”
“I ain’t in no damn rush,” Quentin scoffs.
“You got some kind of big plans?” Hoff asks. “Something more important to do?”
“Shit,” Quentin waves a dismissive hand.
“I’m not going to lie,” Lorento says. “This isn’t going to be easy. But I think we can do it, if we work together.”
“I don’t know,” Blake sighs. He sits back in his chair and folds his arms over his chest.
“That blonde woman with Bishop,” I say. It takes me a moment to remember her name. “Dom. You know her? Don’t you?”
“Yeah. We have seen her before,” Blake says. “In Chicago.”
“She got a few of our people killed,” Quentin adds. “Left the rest of us to die.”
“Sounds like a bitch,” I mumble. The thought occurs to me that some of my choices might have also gotten people killed, and I left friends behind as well. I wonder what that makes me now.
“I ain’t disagreeing with you,” Quentin says.
“I can’t believe she is still alive,” Danielle shakes her head. “I never thought we’d see her again.”
“Bishop seems to have taken a real liking to her,” I tell them.
“She’d go along with anything as long as she thinks it will keep her safe,” Quentin says. “She don’t give a damn about anyone but herself.”
“So are you guys going to help us or not?” Lorento asks.
Blake looks at Quentin who gives him a reluctan
t nod, then at Danielle. She bites her lip, then nods as well. Blake stares down at his hands as he twists a wedding band around his finger. Then he slowly nods his head and locks eyes with Lorento.
“I’ll talk to Fletcher,” Blake agrees. “We’ll get him on board.”
“Good,” Lorento smiles.
“How soon will you be ready to go?” Blake asks Lorento. He eyes the bloody stains on the fabric of her camouflaged pants.
“I’m good to go,” Lorento says. She gets up from the chair and stands gingerly. She forces a smile to hide any indication that she is feeling the pain.
“You should really take it easy for a few days,” Danielle says.
“Really, I’ll be fine.” Lorento sighs. “Just as soon as you give me back that bottle of painkillers.”
“What?” Danielle begins. She takes one look at the expression on Lorento’s face and decides not to play dumb. Danielle unzips the duffel bag beside her and removes the bottle and hands it back to Lorento.
“We’ll rest up here tonight,” Blake says. “Find transport and hit the road at dawn. Maybe we can get the trucks back from the campground if enough of those things clear out by then.”
Danielle and Quentin follow Blake out of the dining area and the trio makes their way to the bar to look for Fletcher. Stitch lingers by my chair a few moments longer, and then runs to catch up with the others.
Lorento collapses back down in the chair. She opens up the bottle of painkillers and pops another pill in her mouth and takes a swig of water to wash it down. Even though she won’t admit it, she must be in a ton of pain right now to be popping pills like that.
The storm continues to rage outside. Wind and rain batter the exterior of the building as the sky gets darker and more threatening with each passing minute. In the bar, Stitch begins to bark and growl at the blustery weather until Fletcher tells the dog to shut the hell up.
“I still don’t trust them,” Lorento tells Hoff.
“They seem nice,” I interject.
“Your character assessments need a lot of work, Scout.” Lorento folds her arms across her chest. She listens to the soft voices coming from the bar, trying to overhear their conversation through the sound of the rain.
Rise of the Dead (Book 2): Return of the Dead Page 15