“You don’t understand—“ she started, her voice shaking. For once, it didn’t look like she was acting. No, that was real fear.
“No, I absolutely don’t,” I agreed with her. “Just because they haven’t savaged any of us doesn’t mean that they won’t.”
“They are calm. Harmless,” Madeline tried to explain, looking at the others pleadingly, but no one except me would even hold her gaze, let alone come to her rescue.
“They are fucking zombies,” I ground out.
“They are my children!” she cried, loud enough to make a flock of birds take flight from one of the trees above. “They are everything I have left!”
Shaking my head, I couldn’t help but feel pity for her. “You still have one healthy daughter. That’s one more blood relative than any of us can claim.” I knew that what I was saying was cruel, but someone had to have that talk with her sooner or later.
“You just don’t get it,” she replied, her voice dropping to an emotionless whisper before she whipped around, running back to the car, the water forgotten. I stared after her for a moment, then put the gun away, although part of me was yearning to keep it right out there in the open where I could shoot within two seconds.
Turning to Nate, I found him studying me with a curious look on his face.
“Gee, thanks so much for your help there.”
He gave me a shrug that should have probably served as a reply, but when I kept glaring at him, he finally broke his silence.
“You didn’t look like you needed any help.”
“Since when did you know about the kids?”
Another shrug. “Five minutes after they caught up to us, give or take. Doesn’t really take that much to put two and two together.” That made me feel decidedly stupid, but I forced myself not to let it get to me that it had taken me weeks to reach the same conclusion—and if yesterday hadn’t happened, I’d likely still be skirting around the issue, reveling in my blissful ignorance.
“How is that even possible? She was right, I mean, in one thing. They are completely docile.”
“But not harmless,” he admitted.
“Why the fuck did you let them stay?” His silence was answer enough this time, although it made my anger resurface again. “Seriously?”
Nate just continued to look back at me with that annoying patience of his.
“We all have our reasons. What is important is how we act on them.”
He got up then to go check something or other on the car, leaving me standing there, perplexed, and not quite sure what to make of that. But at least now I had my answer why they’d been so quick to give up one of the tents, and why there’d always been a guard stationed inside the camp, too—and that had never been me. After last night, I had a feeling that was going to change soon.
Only that it never came to that, but we didn’t know that yet.
Chapter 26
The next couple of days we settled into a weird kind of monotony. Monotony, because we didn’t do much besides drive and sleep. Even with my screwup, the others had managed to get enough provisions that we’d easily make it into Nebraska, maybe even Wyoming until we had to get something else—and maybe the distraction my stunt had provided had actually helped with that. I didn’t ask because I honestly didn’t want an answer. What was done, was done, water under the bridge and all that shit. My body took less time to recover than I’d expected—or felt like that morning after—but then again, I had no point of reference whatsoever. But it made sense that they wouldn’t aim to incapacitate me, just teach me a lesson. And that lesson stuck—and not just for me.
That things had changed became apparent when we stopped that first night after the storm, and no one even so much as glanced at Madeline, let alone was ready to engage her services. She’d gotten the share for her family from the loot that we’d snatched up, but she didn’t seem particularly happy about the spoils of war. It wasn’t like people were outright hostile—except me, maybe, but I tried to tone it down and ignore her wherever possible—but whenever she or Erica walked through the camp or needed something, everyone fell silent or had something else to do. Madeline seemed frustrated at first which continually changed to some strange mix of annoyance and pleading, while her daughter was outright apologetic. It was obvious that while her mother must have set her up to distract me, she hadn’t known that it was so she could ditch the other kids so zombies would eat them. At least that was what I guessed she’d been up to; I didn’t ask, and she didn’t volunteer the information.
With our next river crossing ahead—and trying to avoid the Omaha metro area—we cut northwest through the countryside, using the fact that there really wasn’t much around that could shamble onto the road, let alone would.
Trying to avoid yet another highway that might cause us at least some grief—and waste precious bullets—we followed a maze of access routes, until suddenly, Burns stopped his car so abruptly that I almost crashed the Land Rover into his rear bumper. Cursing, I looked around, trying to make out what had made him step on the brakes like that. The road ahead looked clear where it cut slightly into the gentle slope, wheat fields left and right. It was only when I unbuckled my belt so I could half get up and lean out of the window that I saw what he and Martinez were staring at. At the side of the road, someone had built a makeshift gallows, where two zombies were swinging from ropes. It was impossible to mistake them for anything else because they were still moving, their jaws snapping futilely above where thick rope nooses kept them suspended off the ground. Judging from the fact that they weren’t moving anything else as the bodies continued to sway in the soft breeze, someone had broken their necks.
That didn’t really look very inviting.
I was just about to suggest we turn around at the next possible free space—or just roll back down the hill if we needed to—when Andrej approached Nate’s window, leaning in to make sure that his voice didn’t carry.
“We can’t go back. Those slight bumps we rolled over? Five rows of iron claws in the road. Forward, the tires just roll over them, but if we try to reverse, they’ll slice us up good. Not sure we even have spare tires for a single car, let alone all six.”
Nate frowned, but didn’t look as alarmed as I felt at hearing the news.
“So we go forward.”
“You know that that’s a trap?” I asked.
He shrugged. “We have guns. We have provisions. We can barter for our lives, if we have to. Or shoot a way out if they won’t let us.”
That did not make me look forward to finding out who had set up camp ahead, but Nate was right—there was only one way to do this.
We continued onward, driving slow enough now that it qualified as a crawl. It wasn’t long before a wire fence started on the right, the area behind it easily several square miles large. And, maybe a mile ahead, right next to a gate in the fence stood two wooden structures like reinforced lean-tos, overlooking a second, wire-topped gate that blocked the road.
“That’s so not looking good,” I murmured as I followed Burns toward the open space overlooked by the lean-tos. As we got closer, it was easy to see the two figures sitting in them, hunting rifles across their thighs, one of them chewing something—because the entire setup didn’t scream hillbilly weirdos enough yet.
“Stay in the car. And keep both your gun and shotgun ready,” Nate told me under his breath as we rolled to a halt behind Burns. With absolutely no incentive to go against his orders, I nodded, watching warily as he got out of the car.
“Howdy, folks,” one of the guys up on the lean-tos called out, raising his right hand but keeping the other on his rifle. Burns and Andrej joined Nate next to our car, making it clear who he was talking to. They had all kept their ARs in the cars, but with nine guns distributed among them—what I was aware of—they were a long shot from unarmed. While Burns and Andrej took on a somewhat hulking stance left and right to Nate, he was his relaxed, smiling self, looking completely at ease where he looked up at the two gua
rds.
“Hey,” he greeted. “Nice rig you have there.”
“Why, thank you,” the second guy replied. “Like our little art installation down the road there?”
Nate shrugged as if he didn’t see why anyone wouldn’t.
“Guess the fact that you keep this gate,” he nodded at the one spanning the road, “closed means you want something from us for passage?”
Guy number one shook his head, but his smile was a little too much of a leer for me to trust that.
“Nah, just a precaution. Dangerous times call for desperate measures.”
“Word,” Nate agreed.
“But if you do have something you want to trade for—“ He let that hang in the air between them.
Nate looked away from him and over the cars, as if he was assessing them.
“Not really. We barely got enough gear that no one’s freezing at night, and we usually don’t go hungry more than two days in a row at a time. You’re likely much better off.”
“Can’t complain,” the guard answered, then stretched and got up, using the ladder at the back of the lean-to to descend to the ground level. He didn’t get close enough to Nate to invite any kind of hostility, but he kept his rifle in one hand. I wasn’t fooled by the casual demeanor—and I was starting to ask myself how many more gunmen we didn’t see in the high grass beyond the fence.
“Well, this was a nice chat—“ Nate started, but was swiftly interrupted by the guard in front of him.
“Not so fast. Must have been weeks since you met any decent folks.” That sounded like we were clearly not included in that description. “Can’t really place your accent. Midwest it sure isn’t.”
Nate shrugged. “Upper east coast, but haven’t been home in nearly fifteen years.”
“Marines?” the guard guessed.
“Army,” Nate corrected. With Burns—still in his patterned fatigues—right next to him that sounded more credible. Or maybe not. While he continued to grin, I didn’t know what to make of that guard. He just gave me the creeps.
“Normally I’d say we thank you for your service, but things have been changing a lot around these parts.”
“We’re all just trying to survive,” Nate agreed. I’d seldom found him that agreeable. Really didn’t buy it.
“Yeah, about that…” the guard said, trailing off as he started walking along the cars, peering inside. I glanced away before he got to ours, but I felt his sleazy look lingering on me. He certainly didn’t do the same with the last car where Pia was likely glaring daggers at him.
“Just spit it out,” Nate said, no longer that pleasant after waiting a full five minutes in silence in the heat.
“Got places to be?” the guard asked.
“Somewhere without gates,” Nate replied.
“Well,” the guard started anew, still playing coy. “How about you give us a third of your rations, weapons, and ammo, and you can be on your way?”
“How about we keep the weapons but give you half our ammo? We have some first-aid kits that we could offer you, too.”
I hadn’t expected that Nate would barter that high, and it seemed to surprise the guy—but not in the best of ways.
“What else you hiding in those cars that you’d willingly part with that much ammo?”
“See it as a sign of our good will,” Nate offered. “You look like you’re running a sweet dig here? We have the advantage that we’re on the move. We can always pick up more ammo elsewhere and share what we have with you. Better for everyone if everyone’s armed.”
“So you say,” the guard mused, but relaxed a little again. “Why don’t you get out of the cars so Jimmy and I can do a quick sweep, and once we’ve made sure that you don’t have anything fishy going on, you can be on your way?”
How Nate managed not to tense at that, I had no idea, but after a few seconds of deliberation he nodded. “Sure.”
At his order, I slid out of my seat, leaving the shotgun ready in the foot compartment of the driver’s seat while I remained standing beside the open door. Even without lightning reflexes I could grab it in a pinch, and the car would serve as cover.
The other guard joined the first, and together they took another tour of the cars—leaning inside, popping trunks. I just stared back at them as they stopped by me, the one called Jimmy whistling through his teeth. When that didn’t get a rise out of me, they moved on. They barely stopped at Madeline’s car, the zombified kids clearly enough of a deterrent to spare her the same treatment I’d gotten. Once they were finished, Andrej helped them “collect” spare magazines from every car, although it was obvious to me that the amount they ended up with was less than a fifth of what was still stored away in the packs and hidden compartments several of the guys had dug into the cushions of the cars. And there I’d thought they’d been awfully paranoid.
Jimmy’s eyes still lingered on me as the other guy was about to wish Nate goodbye—or so I hoped—when suddenly Madeline came sashaying over to them, her best winning smile plastered onto her face. I felt my stomach flip with trepidation, and the look Nate sent her wasn’t very friendly.
“May I ask you fine gentlemen a question?” she said, almost simpering.
“A pretty thing like you? Always,” not-Jimmy crooned back.
“Let me guess. It’s not just the two of you in there?”
He looked suspicious for a moment, as if Nate would use Madeline to draw information out of them that they didn’t want to give, but the way she pointedly turned her back on Nate probably gave away that they were not exactly on best terms. Or better actors than anyone could expect.
“No, ma’am. We’re a whole group. All living together in a nice bunker over there.”
“So you’re preppers?” she asked, sounding impressed. “Always prepared for everything? I like that in a man.”
And he definitely liked her rack, barely concealed by the blouse she was wearing today as it was.
“That’s the way we do things, yes,” he agreed.
Madeline hesitated, but only for a moment. “Would you mind terribly getting some additions to your fine group here? My children and I, we’re just not made for life on the road, you see? And we don’t eat much. But I’d be very, very grateful if you’d take us in.”
Nate tensed, if only a little, and the look on his face was unreadable.
“Madeline, you don’t have to do this,” he started, but Jimmy was quick to interrupt him, his eyes taking on a greedy glint.
“But if she wants to, she’s more than welcome with us! Children, too, of course. Been a while since we had some little ‘uns around, but I’m sure that my wife would be thrilled. Why don’t you come with us right away?”
Nate gave Madeline a nearly pleading look, but she ignored it, all smiles for Jimmy and his buddy now.
“Thank you so, so much! Let me assure you, you won’t regret it.”
They would likely remain the only ones, I got the sinking feeling, and that didn’t pass when I saw the glances Jimmy and the other guy traded as Madeline made her way back to her car.
Nate just waited until the guards were back at their lean-tos before he gave me the nod to get back behind the wheel, and the moment they opened the gate, Burns floored it, with me right behind him. In the side mirror I saw the small mint-green car angle out of our queue and on through the other gate, where it was stopped, Madeline and Erica getting out.
“Don’t,” Nate said, his eyes on the car ahead of ours.
“Don’t what?” I asked—just as a shot rang out, followed by a second. On some level I must have been waiting for them because I didn’t startle, but my stomach pretty much sank into the floorboards.
“Look,” Nate finished, sounding resigned.
We were a good three miles further—the fence far behind us now—when I asked the question that just wouldn’t leave my mind.
“The kids?”
Nate gave a grim nod. “Trust me, they have a good use for the girl, too, not just her mother.�
�
And that was the last we spoke of that—but I was sure that my nightmares had just gained a lot more fodder to torture me with.
Chapter 27
It was later that day that we rolled down a hill and saw a line of three cars up on the next crest, clearly silhouetted against the sky. With our experience with the preppers fresh on my mind, I was about to suggest finding another way when Burns brought the car in front of ours to a halt, letting the entire procession catch up to them.
“What do we do?” he asked as he leaned through Nate’s window, sounding as subdued as I felt.
“They’ve seen us,” Andrej reported where he was looking through his binoculars. “And they look about as thrilled as we are. I see two women, and at least one child. But could be a trap.”
We waited another thirty seconds, Nate studying the group through the glasses.
“Majority vote?” he suggested.
“You’re the leader,” Andrej objected. “So, lead.”
The look he got back from Nate could only be described as nasty, but after another minute of deliberation, Nate handed the binoculars back.
“Any volunteers?”
“I don’t mind,” Burns offered. “Just keep Martinez here so no one shoots his pretty ass out from under us.”
Martinez gave him a humorless grin, but didn’t protest.
Cho and Burns got back in the car and drove off, our entire group following their progress up the rise from where we remained behind. There, they stopped, one of the guys from the other group approaching them warily. Some debate followed, until Burns got out and hailed us. I was sure that there was some code involved in that because Nate visibly relaxed when he saw the signal. So we followed, hopefully not driving into our doom.
As we drew up to the cars, I started feeling a little stupid about our precautions. The cars obviously belonged to two families, with only a third of them making up grownups. The kids were all in the cars, looking at us with more fear than curiosity, but all of them were decidedly alive. The guy who had been talking to Burns approached us, still looking unhappy, a woman about his age—late forties—behind him.
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