Dream Matthias had been right. I hadn’t killed enough men to be comfortable with killing. I hadn’t belittled humanity enough to even entertain the idea of fighting other humans.
But what choice did I have?
It was kill or be killed. And I couldn’t die a virgin!
Hendrix and I just worked things out. I was so close!
Okay. Wait. Priorities.
That was the last thing I should be thinking of right now.
Right?
Ahem. Right.
Another man stepped up to Arturo and leaned in to say something. Arturo tipped his head back and laughed, his giant lips flapping wildly.
I pulled back. “I don’t think he’s alone. I think he’s working with someone else. Another territory leader, maybe?”
Hendrix frowned. “We should have learned our lesson by now.”
“Which one?”
“To stop letting bad guys live. I’m adapting a new philosophy. Kill first, ask questions later.”
Despite myself, I smiled. “I’m on board.”
“Really?” He turned to face me fully. He settled his hands on my shoulders, one still holding his gun. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”
“I already had the internal battle,” I promised him. “I’m good. My moral compass is pointing directly at kill everything that tries to kill you first.”
“Your moral compass is brilliant.” He leaned forward and placed a sweet kiss on my forehead. I closed my eyes and let that sensation, that perfect, beautiful, incomparable feeling, wash over me.
“Plus it’s good practice.” I thought of my dream once again. It had been so real that I had been imagining all night that it was actually Matthias. I felt his words as if he had spoken them and his touch as if he had really touched me.
But he hadn’t been there. It was a dream, not real life. I had conjured that image of him; my subconscious had come up with the words he spoke.
And now faced with this opportunity, I realized that my subconscious was right. I did need practice killing other humans because when the time came to finally end Matthias, I could not waver.
Not even a little bit.
Hendrix quirked a brow, “For what?”
“For when I bust a cap in Matthias Allen’s ass.”
Hendrix let out a surprised but soft chuckle. “Okay, Killer, let’s go practice.”
“Have a plan?”
He shook his head. “Kill the bad guys. Save the good guys.”
I nodded along, “Sounds like a good one to me.”
Just as he started to round the corner of the house, he turned back to say, “Oh, and don’t get killed. I have some plans for us later that we both need to be alive for.”
“Plans?” It was my turn to lift my eyebrows.
“Make-up plans.”
A different kind of tingle slid down my spine and I felt a blush heat my cheeks. Sure, I was in a life and death situation, but Hendrix was talking about making up. I mean… was there a different reaction to have?
I pushed off my good ankle and sprinted into the backyard, flying like a banshee. I had already checked and reloaded my gun on the way over and stored my other two guns in easy to reach places. This was my last magazine, so I would have to discard the gun as soon as I was finished with it.
They didn’t hear us at first. They were so focused on the other Parkers that our footsteps didn’t even register to them.
It was the Zombies that saw, or rather smelled, us first. One of them had been standing in the middle of the yard, waiting for something, when he picked up our scent and spun around. He let out a hideous moan while his lower jaw moved all around as if anticipating what it would be like to sink his teeth into us.
Hendrix stepped in front of me and started shooting. Arturo’s men spun around, the move costing several of them their lives as Parkers opened fire.
The good thing about being on opposite sides of the yard was that we had them surrounded. The bad thing was that their wayward bullets flew our direction.
I threw my body to the ground, rolling out of the way. Hendrix and I had gotten separated in our effort to dodge gunfire, but I trusted that he could take care of himself.
I army-crawled forward, praying that the spray of bullets would continue to miss me. I let out a scream I was not proud of when one crashed into the dirt just inches in front of my face, kicking up gravel and dust.
I was near the house again, wondering why I had ever left this cover. Hendrix had jumped back to his feet, efficiently taking out man after man. I had started to wonder if they had forgotten me or even known I was there.
In fact, I was feeling pretty smug with the plan I had developed over the last few minutes when dusty loafers stepped in front of my nose and the telltale click of a gun signaled my demise.
I craned my head back and saw lips. Arturo’s ugly lips. In my head he had become this caricature of a man with just lips for a head and the body of a rotund penguin.
He opened his mouth to speak. I took the gun in my hands and shot him in the neck.
I contemplated my actions while the momentum of the bullet pushed him backwards until he lay sprawled out in the tall, desert grass that hugged the side of the house.
I stared at the bottom of his shoes and tried to get control of my breathing. Tried being the key word. I felt my lungs seize up with hysterical disbelief. My breaths came in short pants and I couldn’t seem to catch a full one. The world around me faded into black until all I could see were the worn soles of his shoes and the ridges of the small heels.
I had just killed a man.
Sure, he was possibly… probably… in all likelihood about to kill me. But I couldn’t believe I had actually pulled the trigger or that my aim had been so accurate from my position on the ground.
He gurgled in front of me, his body trembling violently.
Okay, so I had mostly killed him. He would be dead any second. And that was my fault.
I tried to swallow beyond my mounting panic attack.
“You cold-hearted bitch,” a heavily accented voice accused above me. “Get up.”
“That’s fair,” I mumbled. At least his insult was realistic.
With a new threat presented to me, some of the panic receded and I could focus on the task of standing up. My knees wobbled and my ankle felt a thousand times stiffer. I held my gun tightly in my hands, already deciding this man would have to kill me before he could have it.
I would not give up my weapon for anything.
“That was ice cold, Puta,” he hissed at me. “I should shoot you myself, but you solved a problem for me and I’m feeling generous.”
I pulled my gun on him, aiming it in his face. He held his hands up and stepped backwards. “Eh, eh, eh!” he crooned. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re going to hand me over to Matthias so you can strike a deal with him. It’s the same thing and I don’t have time for it.”
A smirk twisted his normal-sized lips. He was about thirty years younger than Arturo, probably around my age. He had that look of authority about him and I instantly pegged him as one of the territory leaders I hadn’t met yet.
“Maybe I will shoot you then, huh? I hear Matthias doesn’t care either way.” He raised his own gun and stood his ground.
It was my turn to smile. “If you kill me and take away all of his fun, you can forget about an alliance. He’ll kill you himself.”
“You’re bluffing,” he sneered.
“Then call me on it.”
Those were brave words, even for me. My heart stopped beating and my blood stopped pumping. It took everything in me not to tightly close my eyes and hide from the inevitable bullet. I kept them open, forcing courage that I did not have.
He took a small step forward and jutted his gun at me. I made a tiny squeaking sound that I was not proud of and held his steady, killer’s gaze.
“Nah,” he laughed suddenly. “I’d rather have the reward than waste a
bullet on you. How much trouble can one American chica be anyway?”
“That’s what they all say,” Hendrix growled. His gun was suddenly pressed into the new guy’s temple and I let out a breath of relief so profound, my shoulders sagged from the weight of it. “When do you think they’re going to learn, Reagan? It’s not you they should be afraid of. It’s me.”
Chapter Three
“If you pull the trigger, the children will die,” the new guy said quickly and without apology.
“Son of a bitch,” I hissed at him.
His toothy smile replied in the darkness. Hendrix pushed the barrel of his gun deeper into the guy’s temple until his skin bulged around the slick metal. Then Hendrix released the gun and expelled a furious sound.
“Where are they?” Hendrix shouted.
The man turned to face Hendrix, a triumphant expression lighting his face. “Shouldn’t we make a deal first? Discuss terms and conditions? Produce a proof of life?”
His words felt like a bucket of ice washing over me. Was he suggesting there might not be a proof of life?
“Who are you?” I demanded.
“Salvador. And you are the Reagan?”
I resisted the urge to bow. “I am the Reagan.”
“And I am the Hendrix, asshole. Now show me the children or I will kill you anyway.”
“The Hendrix?” Salvador looked a little confused. “You are worth nothing.”
I cocked my head to the side and tried to determine if Salvador was trying to make a joke. He kept a straight face. It was impossible to tell.
“Show me the children,” Hendrix sounded as dangerous as I’d ever heard him.
Salvador spun around, seemingly uncaring of our guns both pointed at his back. He moved to the back door and pounded on it twice.
The activity around the yard slowed at first and stopped completely when more of his men wandered down the steps, holding Luke, Page and Miller in front of them.
The kids kicked and fought, but the huge men holding them around the shoulders, with one hand over their mouths didn’t seem to care. They dodged their feet and held their heads so tightly that I was convinced their necks would snap with just the tiniest bit of added pressure.
We had wasted too much time in the valley. And now Page was back in the hands of monsters. If the men had been in the house that meant Adela, Tyler, Joy, Nelson and Haley were also in trouble. It also meant there were more men inside.
I scanned the area and counted three other men that hadn’t been killed yet. Dead Feeders were scattered all over the place, but they seemed mostly taken care of.
I didn’t want to count the dead humans. That was a number I thought I would be better off not knowing.
I wasn’t the only one not used to killing men. The Parkers were the toughest people I knew, but they still had souls.
Killing a man took something out of me. It destroyed a piece of me in the crudest way possible. I felt filthy. I felt unforgivable.
I felt inhuman.
And this was a guilt I would have to live with for the rest of my life. I had done what I had to in order to survive, but my actions were not something I could take lightly. And these incredible brothers who had shown so much compassion and grace over the short time I had known them were no different.
These deaths, no matter how vital for our survival, would weigh each of us down for the rest of our lives.
“Now, how about a trade?” Salvador’s accented voice smoothed despite the abrasive circumstances.
“Them for me?” I guessed. He nodded. “If you’re Salvador, does that mean you took out…?”
“Paulo,” Salvador finished for me. “He had a tiny piece of this pie. He was hardly worth the effort. Yet, now with Arturo gone too, my piece has grown significantly in just days.”
“But now you’ll have to fight Diego,” I reminded him. “Are you the only two left?”
“We are.”
“And just in time for Matthias to get here.”
He shrugged, “It would have happened eventually anyway. I never intended to keep the others around. Not when this entire country could be mine.”
“But Diego is pretty bad ass,” I reminded him. “He already has a deal worked out with Matthias. So how do you plan to cut in on that?”
His eyes swept over me from head to toe and slowly made their way back up again. “It is obvious.”
My palms grew sweaty as I readjusted my gun. I hated being in this situation again. I was tired of having to face this outcome.
One more reason to kill Matthias.
I could not stand for one more Mexican warlord to try and kidnap me. Those goddamn posters.
We weren’t even halfway through Mexico yet. I knew that the territories and Mexico City basically had nothing to do with each other. Both of them knew how deadly the other one could be. Plus, there was enough fighting in both places that they didn’t need to include more outside aggression.
But what if those posters made it past the territories? What if I had to fight this stigma… this image of myself… this reward money and alliance with Matthias all the way through?
I wouldn’t make it.
Somebody would eventually get to me and win. I just wasn’t that lucky.
But if Matthias were dead, we wouldn’t even have to try to survive any more of Mexico. We could slip back into our country and live out our remaining days in peace and quiet.
Or, as peacefully and quietly as was possible during the Zombie Apocalypse. There would always be the Zombies to contend with.
“You can’t have her or the children,” Hendrix spat, breaking into my fast thoughts.
“Si,” Salvador nodded firmly. “Yes, I can. I already have them all. There is nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Due diligence,” I mumbled, sighing with barely restrained frustration.
Salvador leaned forward as if proximity would help my words come together for him. “What is that?”
I repeated myself, slowly saying each word with perfect precision. “Due diligence. If you’re going to come up against us, you really should do your due diligence first. You should find out what you’re getting yourself into.”
Salvador tried to scoff, but one look around the backyard revealed a lot of dead people. I was not messing around. He really should have looked into our reputation.
As if on cue, a gun shot went off in the house. The snap of light lit up the dark interior and the loud noise caused all of us to jump.
All of us outside, even the men holding the kids, even Salvador with his cool confidence, stared at the house as more gunshots fired. Bursts of light crackled through the window. Nobody screamed or escaped.
My stomach clenched and my heart pounded. I immediately expected all of my friends to be dead, but by the look on Salvador’s face I could see that he hadn’t initiated an order. Whatever had happened inside was unplanned.
Hendrix took the opportunity to lunge towards Salvador and wrap his corded forearm around Salvador’s throat. Hendrix’s other hand pressed a gun back to his temple and made his intentions very clear.
“Let the kids go,” Hendrix demanded.
The men holding Page, Miller and Luke looked over at Salvador with expectant eyes.
The back door to the house burst open and Nelson hurdled down the stairs with an assault rifle pointed menacingly.
“Nelson,” I breathed. I didn’t know if that meant that Haley was okay or if the opposite was true. It was impossible to tell by Nelson’s furious mask. He was absolutely livid.
Rightfully so.
With Nelson’s added presence, the rest of the Parkers didn’t hesitate. Vaughan, Andy and Harrison popped up behind each of the men that held one of the kids, while King walked over to the three men that still held their guns at us. Nelson joined him and I walked over a second later.
We took control with a gun aimed at each one of them. Granted, they had guns too… but I couldn’t deny that it felt like we had the advantage again.
“I underestimated you,” Salvador coaxed. “Partners then? Surely you want something from me. If we can come to an arrangement about Matthias, I will give you whatever you need. I’m about to become a very wealthy man.”
I just resisted rolling my eyes. “How will you give it to me if Matthias kills me? I want nothing that you have.” Except Page and Miller.
Andy spoke in rapid Spanish to the men that still held the kids. He kept shoving his gun barrel into the back of the kid that held Luke, accentuating his point with each jab.
Finally, the ogre released Luke and the poor kid dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. Luke scrambled back inside the house.
Andy shouted another order in Spanish and the remaining two henchmen released Page and Miller. I could tell Page wanted nothing more than to run into her big brothers’ arms and never leave them. But now wasn’t the right time.
Miller grabbed her hand and dragged her into the house. The door slammed shut behind them.
Hendrix’s voice boomed in the now silent backyard. “The death toll keeps rising. Are you sure you want to add to it today?”
I watched Salvador’s entire body tense with the taunt. I waited for him to lash out or threaten us again, but he stayed silent.
His life was over. Even he knew it.
Hendrix let out a low chuckle, “The next time you want to-”
He didn’t get to finish his thought. One of the bigger guys threw his elbow back and connected with Harrison’s nose. Blood gushed down his face, while he grabbed it with one hand and tried to staunch the blood flow.
Harrison broken nose was the catalyst that set us back into motion. We had been standing relatively still as we waited for someone to make the first move. As soon as it happened, all hell broke loose.
The guy I had my gun pointed at turned on me, knocking the weapon from my hand in the process. I tried to jump out of his way, but he tackled me, knocking me to the ground with sickening strength.
My spine slammed into the unforgiving earth and my lungs exploded. Or least that was what they felt like.
I punched out at my captor, anxious to do some permanent damage, but he locked my wrist in his big hands and smashed my entire arm against the dirt.
Love and Decay, Volume Seven (Episodes 5-8, Season Three) Page 16