“Wait,” Dave said as Nicole rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “Are you saying this is Colin McCray? The lead singer from Lead Tongue?”
Shit, Lead Tongue! That had been one of my favorite bands in high school. Dark, heavy rock in the age of boy band idiocy! I’d listened to their debut album, Tongue This like, a thousand times.
I tilted the flashlight and looked even closer. Damn, it was him, complete with leather pants, a black shirt that was slightly faded and torn, but still unbuttoned to the midchest level. He was wearing a big silver medallion just like he had on stage for years, though at thirty-five, he looked way closer to fifty.
But he had even before the apocalypse. The band had slipped into obscurity after their third album flopped miserably and McCray had become something of a joke.
I was sort of surprised he’d made it this far. Especially since the dude was waaaay strung out. In the zombie-verse you needed your wits about you.
“Always nice to meet fans,” the Brit drawled. “Want an autograph?”
“I’m not a fan,” Nicole said, squeezing her arms over her breasts even tighter. “I’m surprised you don’t recognize me, actually. My first assignment was to cover you guys. I did it for a few months, you know, before you imploded and became totally irrelevant.”
McCray’s mouth twitched slightly, but his jovial tone didn’t change as he said, “Sorry, love. I don’t remember the groupies.”
Nicole was turning red, even in the dim light. “Not a groupie, asshole. I’m a reporter. Does E.N.Z. ring a bell?”
McCray tilted his head and looked her up and down. I noted he hesitated quite a bit longer on her chest and her ass than anywhere else. Classy.
Finally he shrugged. “Sorry, all you reporters look alike. Blonde, brunette, red heads… just big tits and I can find better in the crowds.”
Nicole arched a brow. “When you had crowds, you mean. You hadn’t had a hit album for two years before the shit went down. And even afterward, you didn’t have the wherewithal to get out of the middle of Oklahoma.”
McCray sighed. “Oh Lordie, you do sound like a reporter. Does that mean you were stalkerazzi-ing me?”
“No,” Nicole said through obviously clenched teeth.
Dave and I had been watching this exchange like it was a tennis match, swiveling our heads back and forth as the two adversaries snapped out rude comments. But finally Dave stepped between them.
“Okay, okay, enough,” he snapped. “Seriously, I’m just not willing to babysit.”
“Dude, did you know you aren’t wearing a shirt?” McCray drawled.
Dave shut his eyes briefly and released a slow sigh. “Yes. I am aware. I got shot, if you didn’t notice the stitches in my shoulder. We were just here to fix me up and then we’re off again. What’s your excuse?”
Nicole snorted out a burst of rather nasty laughter, but it was strained. I think she was a bit stung that McCray hadn’t recognized her, actually. She looked the rocker up and down with a sneer.
“Oh, didn’t you hear? McCray was down here for rehab. Cocaine, wasn’t it? That’s why I remembered the name of the town. We did a five-second sound bite bulletin on it on our show.” She glared at him. “As filler when we didn’t have a real story.”
I nodded. Although apparently David was the entertainment news junkie, I did know a thing or two. “That’s right. I remember hearing something about that. Didn’t your whole band check in together?”
Colin’s crooked grin (good Lord, that British teeth thing was true) fell and he glared at Nicole, though he answered me. “Something like that.”
“So where are the rest of them?” Dave asked as he peeked over his shoulder into the hallway like any minute the whole band was going to materialize and start to rock out. Which would be pretty cool, I admit it.
McCray shook his head. “Branson ran off the minute the rehab center lost its security. He was a zombie within hours. Ellsworth OD’d a few days later. That left Keller and me. The original band members, actually.” His eyes went flat and hard. “But he killed himself when we ran out of drugs. I’m all that’s left.”
Even Nicole, with all her snark, had the decency to stay quiet as we all stared at the former rock star. He looked a little smaller as he stared at the floor. And I could see, from bitter experience, that he was reliving every last moment of his friends’ lives in that second.
But then he lifted his head and grinned at us. “But as the French say, Que sera, sera, eh?”
I didn’t believe his nonchalance for a moment, but what could you say?
Dave shifted uncomfortably and then said, “Well, er, we should probably finish up in the room, guys. I’m still bleeding and all.”
I spun on him and lifted my flashlight. Nicole had finished stitching only half his wound—leaving the needle and heavy thread l hanging. But Dave wasn’t right. The hole was still partially open, but there wasn’t any blood.
I bit my tongue as I stared, though Nicole wasn’t as quiet.
“No…” she said, lifting her gaze and her light from his injury to his face. Her eyes were narrowed and her gaze focused entirely too hard on him. “Actually, you aren’t. You aren’t bleeding at all.”
The only person who can reject you is you. Unless they find out you’re a zombie. But then it’s not so much rejection as extermination.
Turns out that finding Colin McCray had its advantages. He had been living in the hospital for over a week and once we got him to focus his squirrel-like brain for more than three seconds, he actually knew the ins and outs of the corridors.
Within ten minutes of our meeting, Nicole had finished stitching up Dave (while glaring at him the whole time) and we were standing in front of a half-empty vending machine. At some point someone had smashed the glass. Shards were scattered across the hallway floor and collected in the retrieval bin where a person would normally get their candy.
The selection was less than stellar. Some dried-up gum and a few gross candy bars were all that were left clinging to the metal pegs inside.
“Eh, Whatchamacallit,” I grunted as I reached past the glass and took one of the bars. “These were awful even before the apocalypse.”
“At least it’s chocolate,” Dave said with a smile.
No one else reacted. McCray was too busy weaving and Nicole had turned her focus back on David. Her suspicion made my pulse increase and my stomach clench. This was not good. I really didn’t want to have to kill her, not when I was just starting to almost like her.
“Is there a place to sit?” Nicole finally asked, turning her gaze from my husband to McCray. She couldn’t hide her disgust… or maybe she just wasn’t trying that hard.
McCray didn’t care. He blinked. “Huh? Oh yeah. There’s a dining hall this way.”
Dave jerked a little. “Hey, maybe a dining hall isn’t such a good idea—” he started, but McCray was already halfway up the hall.
We exchanged a quick look, but then followed him. There was still safety in numbers. Of course the same was true for the zombies, and unfortunately they had us way beat in that particular department.
After a couple of quick turns, McCray stopped at a set of swinging doors. He turned back toward us and then motioned at them.
“Here we are: dining hall.”
For a moment we all stood there staring at one another. Waiting for… I don’t know what. And then Nicole shook her head.
“So, um, are we going in or what?”
McCray blinked again, his glassy eyes focusing for a brief moment. “Oh. Sure.”
Without hesitating, without even taking a peek inside to check his perimeter, McCray shoved open the doors and disappeared into the dining hall. As the doors swung shut, we all got a glimpse of a big room with tables lined up in rows three wide. The cafeteria had obviously taken some damage, though; many of the tables were flipped and I think I saw a rotting leg (maybe the match to the one I’d seen earlier) before the door swung shut.
�
�Oh shit,” Nicole muttered, then she caught the swaying door and slipped in behind McCray.
I glanced at Dave. “I don’t like this.”
He nodded. “Me neither, but here we are.” He reached out and patted my arm. “So let’s go. But be careful.”
I lifted my gun a fraction and did as he suggested, leading our way into the dining hall. The lights were out, of course, and the room was almost pitch black thanks to the windows being so high above us and the fading light of sunset.
“The flashlights aren’t going to cut it in a room this big. Any suggestion on lights?” I asked through clenched teeth.
McCray nodded. “Sure.”
He stepped out of view for a second and then the soft glow of a lantern suddenly brightened the room a fraction. McCray stepped forward holding a Coleman in his left hand while his gun hung loosely in his right. Clearly he wasn’t one for worrying too much about zombies. How the hell he had survived this long was beyond me.
“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” Dave said as he looked around. “I’m surprised you didn’t have that with you when you were searching the medicine closets.”
McCray’s eyes went wide as he stared at the lantern, like he hadn’t ever thought of that. “Bugger, that’s a great idea.”
He moved like he was going to leave with the light and continue his search for a high right that very moment, but Nicole reached out and caught his arm.
“Hey, druggie boy, let’s focus, okay? I know it’s hard for you, but right now we need to eat and come up with a plan. If you want to go OD after that, well feel free. One less ass to cover.”
McCray’s brow wrinkled. “If you don’t care if I die, then why do you care if I leave?”
I smothered a grin as Nicole’s face fell. Guess she hadn’t thought through that logic too carefully. Turned out McCray had a brain when it wasn’t fried on drugs.
“Because you have the light,” she said softly. “And a gun. So sit down and just chill out.”
McCray shrugged and set the lantern on one of the few tables not overturned or covered in blood and body parts. “Whatever.”
Nicole sighed and joined him at the table. Dave and I took the other side and all of us began eating slowly. It had been so long since I ate at a table, I wasn’t even sure how to do it anymore. Even with a candy bar, I felt sort of awkward.
After we had all eaten in strained silence, McCray propped his elbows up on the table and leaned on his hands like a kid in school.
“So, I know this one was a stalkerazzi, but what’s the deal with you two?” McCray asked.
“Yeah,” Nicole said, her tone dark and dry as she tossed her candy wrapper on the blood-stained linoleum at her feet. “What is the deal with you two?”
Dave glanced at her and he looked confused. Clearly he hadn’t noticed her suspicions. Which was not a good thing. He could easily talk himself into a problem, especially since the girl had a gun.
“What do you—” he started.
“Wow,” I interrupted as I jumped to my feet and faked a big, fat yawn. “I am just beat. Why don’t we discuss this in the morning after we all get a good night’s sleep, huh?”
Dave shot me a weird look, but got up when I grabbed for his arm and yanked him.
McCray shook his head. “I thought we had to come up with a big, hairy plan before we did anything fun like going off to bed.”
I shook my head. “Plans can wait. See you all tomorrow.” I tugged at Dave again. “Come on, honey.”
“Don’t you want to all go together?” Nicole asked evenly, her eyes locked on mine.
“Nope,” I said as I backed toward the doors. “We’ve got a flashlight and you have one and McCray has his lantern, so I think we’re good. We’ll just see you in the morning. Nighty-night.”
I didn’t wait for her to argue or call us out or draw her weapon; I just hauled off toward the double doors and the hallway, Dave trailing behind me with a look of confusion. But we’d been together long enough that he didn’t question me. He might have thought I was crazy, but he wasn’t going to ask me about it until we were alone.
Good boy.
Once we got out of the emergency area of the hospital, some of the rooms actually weren’t so bad. Deeper back were even a few that barely had any evidence of zombie activity.
That was where we decided to take up residence for the night.
We picked a room and set up by the light of the flashlight.
“Here, you get in bed,” I said as I dug around in our pack for some supplies. “You need the rest after getting shot.”
Dave shrugged, then got into one of the two narrow hospital beds. As he covered himself up with the thin sheets, he looked at me.
“So what was all that about, Sarah? You’re acting all weird and so is Nicole.”
I sighed as I turned my back on him while I rechecked my weapon. I really didn’t want to deal with this, but it had to be done.
“Here’s the thing, babe—” I started, but before I could finish, I heard the rasping echo of a snore.
I turned around and found that Dave’s eyes were already shut in a restless sleep. I shook my head with a sigh. I guess it had been a longer day than I thought.
Putting my gun on the stand next to the bed, I slipped in next to him. I lay on my side, staring down at Dave. I watched as once again he took one breath in for every two breaths he pushed out. That ragged, unnatural exchange only served to freak me out even more than I had been all day.
Clearly there was something wrong with him.
I shifted on the uncomfortable hospital bed and tried to rest my head on the pillow beside his, but before I could get even remotely relaxed, there was a light knock on the door.
I turned as it opened and revealed Nicole, holding one of the flashlights aimed at the ground.
Shit. So much for my clever escape plan.
“Hey,” she said softly. “Can I talk to you?”
I glanced at Dave again, but he was still asleep, his eyes darting beneath his eyelids as he dreamed of… well, I didn’t want to know what since I was sure it was zombie related, whether it was him being chased by a zombie or, you know, him eating flesh and liking it.
“Sure,” I said as I carefully slung myself out of bed and motioned to the hall. “But let’s go out here. Dave’s asleep.”
Nicole cast a quick yet pointed glance at my husband and then nodded as we stepped into the hallway. I shut the door behind me and looked at her with what I hoped was no worry or fear.
“So, where’s McCray?” I asked.
Nicole rolled her eyes and my stomach settled. Apparently the British rocker was a topic that could be used as a distraction for our reporter friend—a tidbit I filed away for future use.
“He took… something and passed out on a couch in the waiting area down the hall.” She shook her head. “How that idiot survived this long is nothing short of a miracle.”
“Well, I’m sure we’ll hear the whole story tomorrow,” I said with a low laugh. “McCray doesn’t seem like the secretive type.”
“Unlike some others in our group,” Nicole said, and her gaze settled on my face evenly.
I glared at her. “What do you mean?”
She arched a brow. “You’ve been dodging this long enough, Sarah. What’s up with Dave?”
I slipped my hands behind my back and clenched them there, hard enough that my ragged nails bit into my palms. But my voice didn’t even crack as I said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ll have to be more specific.”
“I’m not blind. It’s pretty clear there’s something wrong with him, Sarah.”
I shrugged. “Well, he got shot, so I guess that’s a pretty big something. He’ll be fine, though. A good night’s sleep and a dose of those antibiotic pills McCray had and he’ll be right as rain in no time.”
She shook her head slowly. “That’s not what I mean. And you know it.”
I shifted. There was clearly no putting her off th
is trail now that she’d gotten her damned bloodhound nose on it. But I was determined to try.
“I don’t know anything,” I insisted with an empty batting of my eyes I’d learned from our friend Amanda. Poor, dead Amanda.
Nicole’s lips pursed. “Bullshit. I’ve noticed things since we met up. Little things, but freaky, nonetheless. Like when the zombies in that pool didn’t bother Dave. Or when he got hit and then shot, it didn’t even faze him.”
“Of course it did,” I insisted with a tight laugh.
“He was poking the hole in his shoulder like it was nothing!” she snapped. “And I saw that big scar on his hand. The one that looks remarkably like a healed bite wound.”
I backed up as I fought not to toss a look toward the room where I’d left David. I didn’t want to give her any more reasons to be suspicious, but Nicole was pretty much listing out every single thing I was currently terrified about.
But I couldn’t tell her that. Even after all we’d been through since we met her, she was still essentially a stranger. And definitely a reporter. If she knew the truth, there was no doubt she’d use it all against us at some point down the road. If she suspected Dave might be infected, she might even hurt him.
And that wasn’t going to happen.
“I don’t know what you’re going on about,” I said softly as I moved toward the door. “But maybe after you have a good night’s sleep, you’ll forget all this foolishness.”
She stared at me and for a brief moment I thought I saw something like pity in her gaze. But then she shook her head.
“Sarah, I’m a reporter. I’m going to figure this out eventually.”
With that she turned on her heel and stalked down the hallway. I watched her go until she disappeared into another room in the distance, then I went back into our room. If only we could lock it. Lock out the zombies and Nicole and her accusations.
I stared down at my panting husband with his freshly stitched shoulder and his scarred hand.
“Yeah,” I muttered as I got back into the bed and wrapped my arms around him. “I just hope I figure it out first.”
EAT SLAY LOVE Page 10