“Chase,” Malia says. “If you savages have a leader, now would be a great time to tell me who he is.”
“Him,” Chase points at the man in the checkered flannel shirt.
Malia fires, and blood blossoms out of his shoulder. He just shrugs and uses his other hand to pull out a knife.
Suddenly, Jeffrey and the others burst in, weapons waving.
At the sight of backup, the Jackals hesitate.
“Enough!” Malia yells, and everything stops. Tavi, who dashed in with Jeffery and the others, walks over to the curtain. She crouches down and mutters something quietly enough that I can’t hear her from across the room, kicking the man who got hit by Lisa’s arrow as she does so.
Tavi reaches behind the curtain and pulls out a little boy by the hand. He can’t be older than twelve or thirteen. His eyes are so wide that they look like they’re going to fall out of his head, and he’s breathing so loudly that I can hear him from where I’m standing. He’s wearing a ripped white t-shirt and jeans that sag off him, exposing the way his ribs and hip bones stick out like handles.
He follows Tavi so close I’m worried he’ll attach to her. The guy who held the knife hisses from his position on the ground, but he doesn’t get up.
“You can’t take him away!” the leader protests. “He’s one of ours.”
Malia practically snarls, “The only reason you’re even still alive is that I don’t want to waste a bullet on you, filth.” She spits, her saliva landing on his face, and he practically flames with rage. His lips turn purple and his cheeks blush red, and his dark eyes blaze. “Oh,” he says softly, “You should not have done that,”
Malia looks unfazed, bored even. “Whatever. Take their weapons.” Soren and Mikey move through the crowd, while everyone else trains their guns on the Jackals. When they return, they have three guns between them, four machete knives, and a couple of grenades.
Immediately, Mikey starts throwing everything into his backpack.
Malia’s lip curls, “Thanks for the donations.”
“You are DEAD!” the leader bursts out, and it’s so surprising that Malia takes a step backward.
“Whoa, hold it!” Jeffrey shouts, drawing his gun as one of the men stars to inch forward. “Don’t move another fucking inch!”
“You’re DEAD,” the he says, and for a moment I think he’s going to cry, but then he gasps, and I realize he’s laughing, practically cackling. “You took my guns and my recruits, and my women, and now I’m gonna go after you. The next time you see me, I’ll be putting a bullet in your head.” He laughs.
“You won’t be doing anything,” Malia says, “If you follow us, we’ll throw some grenades in here.”
He only laughs harder, holding his hand to his shoulder wound as best he can. “You’re dead! You’re so dead, you’re only making it worse.” He swallows, and now he’s completely serious, his voice thundering through the entire room. “I will find you.” His eyes gleam, and I swear they flash red for a moment. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Out, now!” Malia shouts, and then we all move, backing towards the door. Soren takes a step forward, grenade in hand. “Come after us, and you’re zombie food,” he yells. I don’t have time to see if anyone moves before I’m propelled into the sunlight.
I sprint ahead to Mikey, who is taking two strides for everyone else’s, practically leaping, as though he makes breakneck escape runs every day. “The zombies?” I gasp. We’ve definitely made enough noise to attract them, even as preoccupied as they are.
“Already heading toward the pool,” Mikey grins. “We keep this pace up, there’s no way they’ll even know we were there. They’ll go after the Jackals.”
I fall back into stride with Malia, and we run without speaking, our boots pounding the pavement in a steady rhythm, until the weakening rays of sunlight highlight the trees that are our sanctuary.
I think again about the food waiting for me when I get back, and I turn to Malia to ask her if she thinks Mason can make us s’mores with the last of the chocolate, but I stop before I say anything. Her eyes are looking straight ahead of us, at the two girls holding Tavi’s hands, the boy running beside Soren, pumping his arms and legs even though it looks like it takes all his strength just to stay upright.
Her eyes look foggy, and her gaze is far away. I see her reach for her knife and run her hands along the handle, then look behind her, turning completely while running backwards.
I remember the words of the leader, you are dead. I thought they were an empty threat, the same boasting that anyone makes who is cornered with shattered pride.
Then I remember Turk. I remember eyes that smiled like a predator stalking his prey. I remember hands that reached for me and slithered over my skin when my brother wasn’t looking, and eventually, when he was. I remember when he stood so close that I could smell his rotten breath, and I knew that if I didn’t leave that night, then the next day would bring something I couldn’t ever escape from.
You are dead.
October
We Fight
“I’ve heard about you,” Chase folds his hands on the table like he’s at a board meeting, his eyes sweeping the room.
We’re all sitting at the big dining table in the restaurant. Mason and Malia share the head seat, while the rest of us are scattered around in varying states of attentiveness. It’s been a long day, and I’m ready to go to bed.
Chase, the one who made Mason call this meeting, is sitting directly in the center. I don’t like him there, right in front of us. It reminds me who he is.
In spite of his background, Chase has fit in well with the others over the past week. So well, in fact, that most of them seem to have forgotten the circumstances of his arrival.
But Malia remembers; I can tell by the way she looks at him, tense, leaning forward, like she half expects him to leap up and start attacking someone.
I’m watching him just as closely. I haven’t forgotten, either.
“Well that’s nice,” Mason says slowly, “All good things, I assume?”
“We heard that you take in people and protect them, teach them how to stay alive. We heard that you care about your people. Both of you,” he nods at Malia and Mason. “People are calling the Hunters a safe haven.”
“And what did the Jackals call us?” Perce’s eyes narrow. He’s still wearing that stupid red bandana, but his hair is neater now, like he brushed it before putting it on. His gaze flicks to me for a moment, then away.
I lean toward Chase, forcing myself not to look at Perce a second longer than necessary. I’ve been avoiding him since that night on the rooftop, but there was no way to avoid him today.
“They called you the biggest challenge they’ve ever faced. Jake, the guy Malia shot, he…” he swallows. “He called you his sheepdogs. Because you herd everyone and everything they have into one area. He called you his trap.”
There’s silence after that, until Lucia speaks up. She’s the youngest in the room, but Malia wanted her here. She told me before the meeting that Lucia has a good mind for strategy. And she’s been lied to enough times to know when it’s happening.
“I don’t understand,” Lucia says, “You—the gangs—you just rape and kill—why?”
“Because we can,” Chase shrugs. “Because the whole world’s gone to shit, so why not do whatever we want, whatever feels good?” His fist clenches on the table, “Because if nothing matters, then nothing hurts. It’s just feeling good. It’s easier.”
Lucia sits back, but she doesn’t look stricken, the way I did when I first found out about Ben and Turk, and their friends, and the reasons that pushed them over an edge into a place they never came back from. She looks angry, and her voice is even deeper now. She practically growls, “You’re cowards.”
Chase looks up at her, “I am.” He says. “I spent months there with them, and I felt it every time someone died, every time someone screamed, every time Jake walked into a building and came out covered in blood. I lau
ghed, and I stayed because I cared more about staying alive than the people they were killing, and if you hadn’t come along when you did, I’d probably still be with them.”
He bows his head, his baseball cap obscuring his face, but Lucia’s glare has to be enough to cut through that thin barrier. It’s lethal and almost feral; twisting her young face into horror. “We should throw him back to them” she says, still staring at him.
Lisa nods. “I agree. Why should we believe anything he has to say?”
“You can trust me!” Chase protests, his head coming up to look her in the eye.
Jeffrey straightens his reading glasses on his nose. “You killed one of your own; how do we know you will not turn on us? How do we know Jake didn’t tell you to come with us?”
Chase throws up his hands. “I’m trying to help you, and you’re not even listening!”
“Like Hell we’ll listen, you little— “Lucia begins, but Mason stands up.
“Enough. Chase is here conditionally, as an informant, unless and until he proves that he both wants to and is able to truly belong to the Hunters. That’s been settled with me and Malia. Anybody wanting to question that is welcome to talk to me after the meeting.” He glares at Lisa and Lucia, and they drop their gazes. “Good.”
“Chase,” Malia says, with a masterful effort at keeping the revulsion off her face, “How much do they really know about us?’”
“They’ve heard of you, yeah,” Chase says, “But it’s worse than that. You sometimes let people go back on their own, right? The ones who don’t want to stay.”
“We don’t force anyone to do anything they don’t want to do,” Malia says. “Some people like to stay with their own.” Her eyes glint as she says it, and the unspoken admonition does not go unnoticed. Chase rubs his eyes, pushing back his hat.
“Well the people you helped? They’re talking. We found this family right before I left, and they kept talking about you guys.”
“We have our own promoters?” Perce puts a hand to his chest. “I’m so proud.”
Chase shakes his head. “No, you don’t understand. People like Jake, they don’t like their victims to think anyone’s better than him, can save them. He wants to be God. So he decided he wants to take all of you down, all of you at once.”
“Wait a second,” I break in, seeing where this is going. “Are you saying Jake’s talked to people who can lead him here?”
“No one we know would do that,” Lucia argues, glaring at Chase.
“Really? What if it was you?” Chase asks. “What if they told you they would rape and kill your mother unless you told them where they were? Would you just let her die?” Lucia blinks, the hardness in her expression softening.
“Wait, so are you saying Jake knows where we are?” Jeffrey asks.
“That’s impossible,” Malia says. We’re not mapped; those people only got here because we led them. It’s too difficult to find it without a guide, and none of the families we helped had any idea where exactly we were. “
“But they have a general idea.” Mason argues. He and Malia share a long look, and I can almost see the unspoken words passing between them. He sighs, nods, and turns to everyone again. “I think we need to start thinking about moving.”
The table erupts in shouts and curses. Perce leans back in his chair, feet on the table, completely unfazed. Even though he doesn’t raise his voice like everyone else, it carries above the din. “You’re blowing this out of proportion, Mason. We shouldn’t freak out and split because of a bunch of rednecks.”
“Where will we go?” Tavi asks, speaking up from her position next to Perce, sharing none of his nonchalance. “Everything we have is here. What are we supposed to do for food?”
“It was bound to run out eventually,” Malia says. “Maybe it’s time to move.”
“But wouldn’t that be playing into his hands?” I ask. “It would be much easier to attack us when we’re moving than when we can barricade ourselves here. We’ve got the weapons, the roof. We can pick them off from up there.”
“What are you suggesting?” Perce asks slowly, and I tell he knows what I’m going to say.
I meet his gaze for the first time in three days, since that night, and we understand each other completely. A thrill goes through me as I say the words we’re both thinking. “We’re not going to let them push us around. We’re going to fight.”
“I agree,” Perce says immediately, finally standing. “We can take a bunch of inbred rednecks any day.”
A couple of people laugh and applaud.
“That is an option,” Malia nods. “We could choose to stay and fight.”
“But what about the ones too young to fight?” Mikey rises, standing stick straight, tension palpable in his shoulders and posture. “What if they get caught in the crossfire?”
“We’ll put them in the basement, no big deal,” Lisa waves a hand.
“Hang on, Babe.” Jeffrey’s more cautious, nervous. He stands and wipes his palms on his jeans. “We’ve gotta go worse-case scenario here. What if we lose?”
“We’re not gonna lose!” Lucia laughs derisively, Jeffrey’s face reddens, and the shouting starts up again. Mason tries to speak over everyone, but the noise swells, until no one is being heard anymore, just shouting their opinion as loud as they can.
“We have to be realistic,” someone screams over Lucia, who is standing on her chair to make herself appear taller, pounding on her fist for emphasis.
“Realistically, we’re gonna kick some ass, Janet,” a guy with bulging muscles and short black hair snaps, glaring at her from across the long table.
“They could be here right now, and we’re still arguing,” Jeffrey tries to be louder than everyone else, but his voice’s only distinction is the scratchiness that means he yelled too loud.
“I LOVE YELLING,” Perce shouts as loud as he can, then sits. I whip my head around to glare at him, and he shrugs.
Lisa’s hands grip the table. She grabs Jeffrey and pulls him down to whisper in his ear. He says something back, not taking his eyes off the drama unfolding, scowling.
I want to say something, but the noise is pulling at me, a physical thing that tugs at my clothes and my skin, words that send me in conflicting directions, ‘Safe’ and ‘Take them down,’ and ‘have to be rational about this.’ I grip the arms of my chair, my eyes seeking out Malia, silently pleading with her to end it.
Finally, Malia climbs on the table. “QUIET.” She yells, her voice booming like a football announcer’s.
Where Perce’s mischievous yelling and Mason and Jeffrey’s hoarse shouts fail, Malia succeeds. The whole room falls silent, everyone frozen in their ridiculous poses of protests. As though suddenly aware of what she’s doing, Lucia climbs down from her chair.
“Sit,” Malia orders, and everyone sinks back into their seats, looking sheepish.
Mason climbs up next to her. “You all have good points. We’re well-defended. We’re more vulnerable on the road, and it will throw this whole thing into disarray. Obviously, there are a lot of different reasons why we could stay or leave.”
“So,” Mason joins in, “I think we should start posting guards for now, night watch. And no one leaves unless it’s for good until this is over. It’s still gonna take them a while to find us, and we need that time to prepare.”
“In the meantime,” he continues over the muttering that has broken out after his first announcement. “We’re going to vote on this tomorrow. Anyone who’s been here for more than a week is allowed to vote, non-Hunters included. And in case we decide to leave, we need to start figuring out how to pack what we can. Owen,” the man with short black hair that snapped at Janet looks up from his inspection of his nails, “I’m putting you in charge of that.”
Owen dips his head. “Been on a thousand road trips with the wife. I know how to pack.” He winks at Janet, who rolls her eyes.
“Good. Now, Chase will stay with me and Malia to make sure none of you try anythin
g funny tonight.”
“But Chase,” Malia says, and her eyes are chips of amber again. “This does not mean that we trust you. I’ll be watching everything you do, and if you even hint to me that you’re going to betray us, you’ll be lucky to escape here with your fingers.” A knife suddenly appears in her hand, blade gleaming. “Understood?”
Chase gulps. “Yes.”
“I still think we should throw him out,” Lucia mutters.
“Alright, that’s it. Thank you for coming, we’ll be working out the watch schedule in an hour or so, meeting adjourned.” Mason claps his hands, and everyone immediately starts chattering, discussing the meeting, filtering out slowly.
I get out of my chair and stretch, then head over to Malia. She’s surrounded by people, all clamoring to hear her opinion on the potential move.
“I’m not sure yet,” she says. “I want to see how well we can fortify this place before we decide to abandon it.”
“Are we even certain that they’ll come after us?” Mikey rolls his eyes like the whole scenario is idiotic. “Don’t they usually go for the weak ones?”
“You heard what he said to me,” Malia grins. “He wants to finish it, and I can’t say I’m not looking forward to killing him a little bit.”
Finally, she sees me, standing at the edge of the crowd. She nods at me, but then someone else asks her a question, and she’s sucked in again. Mason puts an arm around her shoulder, pulling her next to him.
“So. You ready to destroy the worst beings on the planet?” Perce has materialized next to me, as if by magic. A few girls on the other side of the room where he was sitting, Lucia and Tavi and a girl with dreadlocks that I think might be Normani, look at us while they chat.
Those girls could have entire conversations with just their eyebrows.
“I’m pretty sure the zombies are the worst thing on this planet, Perce.” I turn so that my back’s to the girls, and he has to lean against the wall.
“Nah. Zombies are dead. They can’t help themselves. But these guys,” Perce lets out a low whistle.
Call Me Zombie: Volume I: Rose Page 12