by Sean Platt
Zombie Clark continued to come at him, gnashing, falling on top of Liam, pinning his arms and bringing its gnashing teeth closer.
Liam couldn’t allow infection to end him.
He wiggled and writhed, trying to push back, squirming under Zombie Clark’s weight, attempting to move a man who was a boulder atop him.
How the hell did he get so strong?
“Help!” he called out to Katrina. “Clark has turned!”
Liam reached up, trying to keep the zombie’s mouth at a distance. He slipped his other hand free from Clark’s grip, reaching up and shoving his fingers into the zombie’s neck, trying to push it back or, if that didn’t work, rip out the bastard’s larynx.
Shots were traded in the street.
And then silence.
Something told Liam that Katrina was dead and he had just seconds himself. He could practically feel Clark’s sharp teeth as he pictured them ripping into his flesh. Death, or something worse, was only moments away. His cramping arms were made of fire and his heart was a tick away from explosion.
Still, silence in the street. Katrina was dead. He was certain of it. Liam’s arms were about to give way and once they did, they’d collapse under Zombie Clark’s weight and force.
And then the monster would be at his flesh.
Liam braced himself for what was coming.
He closed his eyes, cocked his head to the side, and accepted the inevitable because he had no other choice . . .
Steaming hot blood splashed his face.
He opened his eyes to see Katrina’s sword jutting through the side of Zombie Clark’s skull. She yanked the blade, pulling the monstrosity off of Liam, then drew her sword from the thing’s head. She wiped the steel against Clark’s jacket, cleaning off the blood as Liam spit Zombie Clark’s blood from his mouth.
On his knees, Liam grabbed a handful of snow, shoved it into his mouth, swished it around, and spit it out too, hoping like hell he wasn’t infected.
Katrina held out her hand in offering. He gripped it and launched himself from the ground as the sound of too many zombies echoed around them.
“I think I got the last of the shooters,” she said. “But there’s a mess of zombies on their way.”
He didn’t need any more than that. They took off at a full sprint, running almost blindly through pitch-black alleys, hoping that they were staying relatively on path toward Adam’s location, and that they wouldn’t run smack into a wall or worse.
Liam’s lungs felt near collapse. He could barely keep pace with a racing Katrina, who already seemed like she was going slower than she wanted to. Despite that, it was clear that they had lost the zombies.
Relatively safe for the moment, Katrina ducked into a small, one-story mercantile, pulling Liam into the old store behind her.
He tried twice to speak, but Katrina shushed him, staring out into the street as if daring herself to believe in its silence. Finally, after many minutes she turned from the window and rifled through her pack.
“I’m sorry,” Liam said. “For everything. You were right.”
She grunted, eyes still in her pack, and handed Liam a bottle of water and ration. She pulled out the box screen and began to stare with a furrowed brow.
“Do you see anything?” Liam asked, knowing she was likely searching for Adam.
“No,” she said, her eyes on the screen. “Not yet.”
“I’m sorry,” Liam repeated.
“It’s fine. Now’s not the time.”
Katrina held her stare to the screen, face creasing deeper. As she studied the screen, Liam’s eyes found something out the back window of the shop.
He gently shook her shoulder, then pointed, drawing Katrina’s attention to the spired building across the street, with the giant sign at the top that read, Apex National Bank.
“That’s it, isn’t it?”
She stared, open-mouthed. Like Liam, she hadn’t realized how close their flight had taken them to the bank. In the parking lot, they saw the ashen remains of what they hoped were zombies rather than Adam.
CHAPTER 38—SUTHERLAND
Sutherland continued to question the scouts.
He’d been going for a while, trying to ignore the grumbling of the men behind him who seemed more worried about having left the truck unattended and getting a meal than the job at hand. Wormwood still hadn’t stopped bitching about his growling stomach.
“I’ll ask you again,” Sutherland said, refusing to look up from the hunk of branch he’d been peeling to nothing. “I’d like to know everything that you two know about the train station. So far I have jack diddly, and if I don’t have more than jack soon, I’ll have to do something to improve my mood. So . . . once more, tell me everything you know about this station of yours: how many people are there, what sorts of weapons do you have, what do your supplies look like—both in quality and quantity—and, this one might be most important of all, where the hell is it?”
The scouts still refused to speak. Sutherland admired them, though esteem would in no way guarantee breath. They would answer or die.
He was most impressed with the girl. The boy went out of his way to show Sutherland that he wasn’t afraid, but his mask betrayed his horror, anyway. The girl was afraid, but made him work to know it. The boy, because he was a few years her junior, or was born a pussy, telegraphed fear through every blink and nod.
Sutherland was also surprised to find that the two weren’t fucking. The way the boy had been trailing the girl like a puppy, Sutherland had assumed that the kid wanted to bury his pecker, but when Sutherland suggested that a lack of answers might accelerate the rate at which Sutherland might decide to let his men bury their own, the idiot kid reacted more like a protective brother than a jealous boyfriend. That same melting mask that telegraphed his terror—the twitching eye and quivering voice—told Sutherland that they had the same daddy.
He’d given the kids more than a minute of quiet to think, but neither had lowered their jaw to tell him anything about their hideout, so Sutherland would have to move things along.
He dropped his peeled stick to the snow, stood with an exaggerated yawn, walked over to the boy, waited for him to finish flinching, then pulled back and launched his fist hard into the boy’s jaw to a chorus of oohs and ahs from the idiots behind him.
The kid was a pussy, so of course he started crying. He managed to swallow a yelp, but his eyes went bright red and began to water.
“Still nothing?” Sutherland said, almost kindly.
The boy stayed silent. His sister looked up, eyes colder than the wind and icy with hate.
Sutherland was many things, but a woman beater wasn’t one of them. He took no pleasure in striking the inferior sex. He wasn’t one of those idiots who believed a man should never hit a woman, but he did believe a man should only hit a woman when she truly deserved it.
He looked down kindly into the girl’s eyes, smiled a flicker—just long enough to let her believe that all might be swell—then pulled back and launched his fist into her jaw, even harder than he had for her pussy brother.
The girl’s eyes were redder and wetter than the boy’s, surprised as she was by Sutherland’s sudden ferocity. Still she said nothing. Her brother, however, behaved exactly as expected.
“OK,” he started. “I’ll tell you whatever you want!”
Sutherland turned from the girl to the boy, glad that the encounter was nearing its end. He was cold, and Wormwood wasn’t exactly wrong about dinner. He was starting to think that maybe he should have let them fell the deer before accosting them. Sutherland knelt next to the boy as his sister started to scream.
“No, don’t say anything, Jaul. Keep it trapped. He’ll kill us anyhow.”
Sutherland slowly rose from his crouch and turned to the girl, admiring her will as he surveyed and pitied its inevitable departure.
“Do you think that’s wise?” His voice was friendly, almost smooth.
She pursed her lips as if about to spit
but said nothing.
“It’s OK, you can spit at me if you want to. The world would be better if people followed their instincts more often. You know, those true feelings we stuff down inside us because it’s easier than staring into their eyes.”
He returned to his crouch and brushed a knuckle across her cheek. He leaned in and whispered.
“Do you know what sort of things I’m talking about?”
He kissed her before drawing back. Inches away she let go, covering Sutherland in spit; a rope of saliva ran from one cheek to the other and drizzled his nose in between.
“Don’t touch her,” the boy yelled, as though the coward could do anything to stop him.
“Oh, you don’t have to worry about me,” Sutherland soothed. “Not in that way. I’m used to women who know what to do. Your peasant sister is a child and wouldn’t know where to start.” He turned to look behind him. “Horrance, would you come here for a moment? And bring your friends.”
A moment later Horrance was in front of Sutherland, with the other men standing in a semicircle behind him.
“When’s the last time Little Horrance was wet?”
Horrance, who looked like a dog, actually started to drool. He looked down, as if embarrassed, and muttered under his breath. “Just the other day. You gave me one of your . . . you gave me one of your girls, Sir.”
“And you?” Sutherland turned to Wormwood and Finch, as if their brains were each so small it took two to make one.
“A month for me,” Wormwood said, then as if to prove Sutherland right he spoke for Finch. “And a month for him. It was with Sally, both of us on the same night, same time.”
He didn’t have to ask the other men. Fear was planted. He twisted his face into an unpleasant grimace and turned back to the girl.
“I’ve seen all of these men eat, and, well, I wouldn’t want them anywhere near me if I were you. I can’t imagine how ugly the whole thing will get. That’s nothing I want to see or hear. Of course, you can keep all of this from happening if you’re willing to stop being stupid and start telling me the truth. Really, shouldn’t we all just get to the inevitable conclusion?”
Again he brushed his knuckle across her cheek. “And such a pretty girl.” He turned to the boy. “You don’t really want your sister ruined, do you?”
“You think I haven’t been raped before?” the sister yelled. He wasn’t sure if she was bluffing or not, but the look in her eyes belied a toughness that said perhaps she had been through a lot of shit. “Don’t tell them anything, Jaul! They’re monsters and we have to protect our home.”
“Shut up!” Sutherland yelled, smacking the back of his hand across her cheek hard.
To her credit, she flinched but never broke eye contact. Nor did she yelp or cry.
Of course, the boy cracked.
“Why do you want to know about The Station? Are you going to hurt people there? If there are any,” he added, as if it wouldn’t make him sound like an idiot.
Sutherland winked at the girl, turned to Horrance and his men with a gesture that said to stand down, at least for now, then finally turned to the boy with his most pleasant grin. He was ready to break, desperately seeking any excuse to end his sister’s suffering.
One more nudge.
“Of course we won’t hurt them. Why would we want to do that?”
As seemed to be common between them, the boy’s sister spoke for him.
“You’re holding us prisoner right now and threatening to rape me; what kind of men are you? You’re nothing but bandit scum. All balls, no brains, so eager to inflict the world with your pain. There’s no way we’re bringing you to The Station.”
Still so stupidly brave, she gritted her teeth and snarled at Sutherland.
And she’s questioning my brains?
“Aw, darling, you got us all wrong. You know how it is out here in The Barrens,” Sutherland calmly explained. “We can’t just go knocking on doors and expecting charity. Sometimes we have to go about things in such uncivilized ways. I don’t like it any more than you do, really. But we’ve already tried to be kind and failed. You’ve no idea how many times we’ve traveled, hat in hand, hoping for the kindness of strangers, only to be shut out in the cold and left to suffer. I don’t know why, but some people seem to be scared of us. Believe me, missy, we don’t want to hurt anyone, but we do need a place to stay. We certainly can’t bunk out here with the savages.” He laughed. “Yes, we’re forcing our way in, but that’s only due to necessity. You’ll see, once inside we’re always happy to earn our keep. You should see Horrance with a broom.”
Sutherland nodded toward the ogre. The boy yelled, finally finding his balls. “Just leave her alone. Do whatever to me. Just let her go. I’ll take you to The Station. I’ll help you get inside.
“Stop it Jaul! Shut your mouth. Don’t tell these idiots anything!”
There it was again, her thinking she was smarter than Sutherland. As if he was just some common grunt and not the man who would bring freedom to the entire Barrens and Cities—even if these ungratefuls didn’t deserve his leadership.
He glared at her. He hadn’t wanted to rape her before. But now he did, just to show her who was boss.
She stared back, far braver than her brother. That look in her eyes, that look of hate and judgment he’d seen so many times before from all who underestimated him. From the whores who thought he was just some drunken fool to the traitors at Hydrangea who sold him out the first chance they got. Eventually, though, he always made them see just who was in charge. Who was the true genius.
Sutherland clucked his tongue. “You know, Jaul. I’m disappointed in you. After spending all this time out here in the cold, you finally started to warm my heart, knowing how willing you were to protect your friends back at The Station. But now, the way you’ve given them up, well, it makes me shiver.”
Sutherland shuddered for effect.
“You must really love your sister.”
The boy cowered back, knowing that their exchange was headed someplace awful. But he was too scared to retort and his sister too proud to craft one.
Sutherland shrugged. “Well then, I know what to do.”
To put awful thoughts into their mind or worsen the ones that were already there, Sutherland walked over to the huddled men, whispered into their throng, chuckled a few times for effect, then sent Horrance to drag the scouts to their feet.
They marched back toward where Sutherland had first spotted them, past where he’d seen them hunting the deer, heading toward where they’d left their truck.
They walked without words for many minutes. Both brother and sister stayed trembling, blue from the freezing air and fear. Horrance opened the truck’s rear by shoving the rolling wall to the top.
“Him first,” Sutherland ordered, nodding at the boy.
Horrance grabbed him roughly by the arm, hefted him up, and practically threw the boy into the truck.
Wormwood’s fingers dug into the girl’s arm.
“Her, to me,” Sutherland said.
With great ceremony Sutherland pulled a narrow capsule from one of his coat’s interior pockets, then lifted the lid and withdrew a syringe.
“Do you know what this is?”
The girl, suddenly too terrified for bravery or running her smart mouth, shook her head.
“It’s a zombie virus. It’s going to kill you.” He chuckled again. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen fast. It’s quite slow. First it will turn you, through torment and pain, a horrible agony you couldn’t possibly imagine. You’ll be undead, wishing you could taste the real thing. That is, of course, unless your brother is smart enough to decide that he loves you more than those poor souls who are already lost at The Station.”
Sutherland slipped the syringe back into the capsule as if pausing in thought. He peered into the truck’s back and the sobbing coward’s eyes.
“Do you love them more than your sister? If not, I need details. What is The Station?”
“I don’t understand. Just tell me what you want to know,” he said, blubbering as his sister finally started to cry.
“Is it a military base?”
He looked confused. “I don’t know.”
“Think long and hard,” Sutherland said, taking the syringe from the capsule and closing the lid with a loud snap. The girl tried to get away, but Wormwood held her tight as Sutherland stuck the needle into her skin, depressing the plunger. “Because if you don’t tell me the truth, your sister will never have the antidote. I want to know how many people are there, what kind of supplies you all have, and what kind of people we’ll be dealing with: Peaceful? Bandits? Soldiers? Everything.”
It took 10 minutes for the boy to spill all he knew. Unfortunately for everyone, that wasn’t much.
The boy then cried, “Now can she have the antidote?”
Sutherland chuckled for a final time. “Oh, I’m sorry, Jaul. Of course, I was lying. Really, I can’t believe you believed me. You’d think you would have learned better than to trust violent redheads you meet in the snow.”
“You fucker!” the girl screamed out as Sutherland grabbed her by the arm and shoved her over to Horrance. Without needing to be told, the ogre threw her into the truck on top of her brother.
She tried to jump out, lunging toward the big man. Horrance swung the butt of his rifle into her head, sending her sprawling backward with a loud crack. He then aimed the gun at the boy.
Sutherland approached the truck and met the girl’s dizzied gaze, wondering how smart she felt now—how much better than he—as she put a hand to her forehead to stop the bleeding. “We’ll leave you two alone. See how much your sister loves you after she turns into a zombie.”
“Please,” the boy pleaded, “you don’t have to do this.”
Sutherland met his eyes, then retrieved a blade from his chem suit’s pocket. He tossed it into the van for the boy to use on his sister, if he had the balls. “I guess we’ll see just how deep your love for your sister goes. Do you love her enough to give up your own life and let her eat you? Or will you do the right thing and put her out of her misery? Wow, this is almost as intriguing as The Darwin Games. Well, have fun, kids.”