Dead Hearts (Book 1): Morbid Hearts

by Susanne L. Lambdin

  “Paranoid much?” teased Highbrow. He lifted his pistol, grimaced, and lowered it again. “I think you broke my elbow. It hurts.” She ignored him. “Okay, not broken, but it still hurts.”

  “Shut up,” said Cadence, with a hiss. “I saw something on the second floor. Front room, third window from the left. Stay behind me, I’ll go first. Keep your eyes open, and don’t rush. Listen, watch, and then make your move.”

  “Wow,” he said, trying not to laugh. “You really are paranoid.” “It’s business, so keep it tight. Let’s go.”

  Once inside, Cadence kept close to the railing of the staircase as she ascended toward the second floor. Midway up the stairs there was a large hole, dropping into a dark basement below the first floor. The abyss consuming this section of stairs required Cadence to stretch beyond what was comfortable to reach the next solid step. Highbrow had trouble crossing the pit. She turned back and frowned, catching him rubbing his sore elbow. He offered a shrug to apologize, but the bruised elbow was slowing him down. She froze, hearing a sound in an upstairs room. Putting a finger to her lips, she crept up the stairs. With her weapon trained and ready, Cadence stalked toward the corner room.

  Outside the bedroom door, she heard rustling. A raccoon or large squirrel crossed her mind. Anything was better than what she expected to find. A zombie must have gotten through the fence. She would report it to Sarge, after she killed it. The soldiers, not the patrols, would be held accountable for any breach. Drawing a deep breath, she counted to ten and walked through the door.

  “Holy!” Cadence stared at a small, dirty girl sitting in the middle of the room, clawing at a torn and ragged doll. Her dress was spotted and soiled. “What are you doing here, princess?”

  The child was filthy and smelled of death. No matter the age of a zombie, they always smelled of week-old trash sweltering in the trunk of a car on a midsummer day. When the little monster turned to bite at Cadence’s ankle, she popped two rounds into the kid’s head without hesitation. Blood oozed from the wound. Zombie blood didn’t spray like human blood, nor was it a bright red color. It was akin to thick black pudding, dripping from a spoon. She hated when it covered her boots.

  “Gross!” Cadence tried to shake off the blood. The thick, black ooze plopped in gooey drops to the ground. “Highbrow, get in here! I shot a kid!”

  He answered after what seemed like an eternity of silence. “Zombie or scavenger? You shoot it twice in the head?”

  “Of course,” said Cadence. “Get in here.”

  Not wanting to touch the dead girl, Cadence used the toe of her soiled boot to nudge the body. It didn’t move, but something about the child’s face touched her. She had been beautiful in life, and in death she held onto her doll as if it meant the world to her.

  “Don’t stare at it,” Highbrow said, entering the room. “Shoot it in the head again and give it a hard kick to double-check. Don’t worry. If it bites you, I’ll pop two in your head.”

  “Jerk,” she said.

  Cadence looked around the room and spotted a tall, metal lamp in good condition. She used it to push the body over onto its side. The zombie was dead. Really dead. She stared at the child realizing something was wrong with its mouth. The tongue had been chewed off long ago. Not pretty. Cadence figured the kid had been dead a few months. Someone should have noticed her, yet no one had. Her skin was pale and dry. It was already flaking and her neck and arms were peeling like a reptile.

  “I wonder why she wanted the doll. They can’t think. Why did she want it so bad?”

  Her morbid fascination with staring at corpses always freaked her team out. Cadence did not try to hide her curiosity, but Highbrow avoided staring. He never liked to look.

  “I’m sorry I took so long to get in here,” said Highbrow. “Due to someone’s awesome driving skills, I had to cross the Royal Gorge in the stairs using one arm for balance. I almost fell through the hole.”

  Cadence shivered. Not out of concern for Highbrow, but because she couldn’t stop staring at the gruesome little corpse holding the doll. “What’s she doing here, Highbrow? She’s alone. How did she survive so long without being noticed?”

  “Left behind. Forgotten. We missed one when we cleaned this place out. So what? There are always a few you find later in a clean zone. It’s how it works, you know that.”

  “She shouldn’t be here. Someone wasn’t thorough.” Cadence forced herself to look at Highbrow. “There shouldn’t be any zombies in a clean zone. We need to check the rest of the house. Tell the others we found one, and to be careful. Where there is one, there are others.”

  Highbrow smirked at her. “You shot her twice. I think they are aware.”

  “Tell them anyway. Follow protocol,” said Cadence.

  Protocol required that when killing a zombie one must deliver two shots to the head, and always double-check a kill. Remove the brain, and it’s considered a sure kill. Protocol and security fences were the two main components of everyone’s safety. Cadence would do her part to maintain the integrity of protocol, but she was angry that maintenance teams were slacking on fence repairs. The integrity of the fence was crucial to survival, especially now that another zombie was found in the clean zone.

  Highbrow searched the entire house, and searched twice to be thorough, but no more zombies were found. He located a stash of canned food in the kitchen, and using an old curtain as a makeshift bag, he hauled the goods over his shoulder like a proud fisherman bearing his catch. Cadence followed him out and watched as Highbrow distributed the cans to each team member.

  Highbrow dropped a can as Cadence grabbed the shoulder of his jacket and pulled him away from the others. Sometimes she was melodramatic, but he loved it.

  “We need to get word back to Sarge. Seems we have a bigger problem than scavengers. Might be one lone wanderer, but I’d rather not chance it.” Cadence had a fierce look in her eyes. “Sarge said he’s sending a team to dig up the dead pilot. Tell him to have a squad check this area too. I’d do it myself, but I don’t want to leave the team. I’d really appreciate it if you went in my place.”

  “Why me?” Highbrow held back what he really wanted to say. “Why not send Dodger or Blaze?”

  “Because Sarge won’t listen to the others,” Cadence said. “I also know you’ll get there and back without any trouble. I know it’s a pain, and I appreciate it. Make it fast, though, I still need you here.”

  “That puts Whisper in my place as second when I leave. He’ll have your back, as will Freeborn.”

  “If I thought for one second someone didn’t have my back, I wouldn’t have them in the Tigers.”

  Cadence grasped the bear tooth necklace under her collar. Every Tiger wore one. The necklaces were made by Freeborn after she had saved Smack from an angry bear—it was a symbol of their team and of their care for one another.

  “We have the best team on the Peak. I can think of at least a dozen times when one Tiger has risked their life to save another. We’ll be okay,” Cadence reassured.

  “I know. You’re right. You saved mine a time or two, but I still don’t like being away from the team. Or you.” Highbrow rubbed the tooth through the material of his shirt. “I know how you feel about the Tigers. Just don’t think they can do the impossible, okay? Keep your head about you. You have to rely on your own fighting skills, so play it smart.” He lowered his voice. “And keep your eye on Dodger. I’ve always had my doubts about him. Dodger is in this for Dodger, and no one else.”

  “We’ll be fine. I trust Dodger.”

  “You’re stubborn. You want to believe the best about everyone, but I know Dodger’s background. He didn’t get that nickname for standing his ground. We attended the same private school. He was always getting into trouble. A few months into the first semester, he was expelled for stealing. Stealing my comics. Meeting up with him again at the Peak wasn’t something I’d counted on. When you picked Dodger to be on our team, I wanted to tell you. You asked some kids to get you a pair o
f binoculars, and he’s the one who came up with them. Do you know where he got them?”

  “I don’t care. He’s not the same kid you knew in school. None of us are the same. Until Dodger proves himself unworthy, he has my trust same as you, Mr. High and Mighty.” Cadence laughed softly and slipped her fingers around his arm, pulling him close. “Being able to dodge the bad guy isn’t exactly a bad thing. You’re the one I’m worried about. You won’t have us to protect you.”

  “Well, he didn’t steal your stuff,” said Highbrow. “He’s also the reason I got stuck with my stupid nickname. Nightshadow knew who I was, of course, but Dodger had to make sure everyone knew we went to St. John’s Academy together. You were there. It was the day we met.”

  “Nightshadow could have given you a worse nickname.” Cadence let out a sigh when Highbrow scowled. “What’s wrong now?”

  “I’ve told you how I feel. I don’t want to see you hurt or killed.”

  “Nor do I,” she said, squeezing his arm before she released him. “Now get out of here. Report to Sarge and bring us back a radio, too. Steal it if you have to.” She laughed when he looked alarmed. “Sometimes rules have to be broken. Dodger took those binoculars directly off of Sarge’s desk and he never missed them. You want me to send him in your place?”

  “I’ll let that insult slide this time. You want a radio, I’ll get you one.” Highbrow pulled his bandana over his face. His voice was muffled when he spoke. “Should be dark when I return.”

  “Keep safe. And take my four-wheeler.”

  Highbrow walked over to the four-wheeler, gave her a mock salute and cranked up the machine. He caught a glimpse of the team in his rearview standing outside of the house as he raced toward Headquarters.

  ***

  Arriving at camp without incident, Highbrow walked into the main office and found Garble at the radio listening to the Captain giving orders to teams in the field. They were preparing for an assault. Things could change as soon as the Captain made contact, but Highbrow had never met a scavenger who wanted to play by the rules. A tall, pimpled soldier held an automatic rifle and stared from a window while another was cutting an apple. A handheld radio, once outdated but now a necessity, rested on the table beside the apple slices. Highbrow made that radio his target. He addressed the corporal without being asked to report.

  “Garble?” The greasy-haired whiz turned from the radio and lifted his eyebrows in inquiry. “Cadence killed a wanderer in Manitou Springs. It was a kid about eight years old, but she didn’t look recently turned. Her skin was peeled leather.”

  “Are you kidding?” Garble’s face lit up. “You Tigers are getting all the action today. No one else has reported seeing any zombies.”

  “Damn thing was clawing at a doll. Acted like she wanted it real bad. You have to admit that’s weird. Ever hear of a zombie playing with a doll?”

  “I haven’t recently,” Garble replied with a snide tone. He acted like Highbrow was joking. Highbrow stared at him, expecting more. “Look, kid. There haven’t been any zombies, as you call them, in Manitou Springs in over two months. I suggest you drop it. Sarge is out dealing with another electric fence that went out in Sector 22. If you’re so worried about a kid zombie, go tell the Captain yourself. I need to keep my ear to the horn.”

  “Fine, I will, but I want that handheld. If we find more, I want to be able to report it without driving five miles.” Highbrow pointed at the radio on the table. “Just give me a nod, man. That’s all I need.” Garble nodded. Highbrow pocketed his target. “Thanks, Garble. This is between us.”

  “No playing around, Highbrow. No prank calls. I mean it.”

  “I owe you one, Garb.” Highbrow snatched a slice of apple, popped it in his mouth while the soldier glared at him. “Good apple.” He hurried out of the room before the corporal changed his mind.

  A Jeep pulled up as Highbrow mounted his four-wheeler. The Captain sat in back, sunglasses resting on his nose. A hard-looking soldier named Achilles sat in the passenger seat brandishing an M16, disregarding Highbrow. Everyone in the Jeep looked focused, ready for battle. Highbrow heard the Captain call his name and he hurried to salute his commander.

  “That’s not necessary, Highbrow.”

  “Sir, I’m glad to see you. Garble sent me to find you. I have news.”

  “Well, I’m lucky to find you too. I need someone I can rely on to track down Sarge and give him a message. I can’t reach him on radio. Scavengers are advancing on the Peak. We need to prepare for confrontation.” The Captain leaned forward and handed an envelope to Highbrow. “Sarge is about a mile west, near the main generators. It’s a shame we have to rely on you kids to do all of the hard work. Wish I could commission all of you as soldiers. I could sure use more reliable muscle.”

  “You can rely on me, sir. And the Tigers.”

  “I know. Cadence and her entire team is one of the best we have.”

  Highbrow saluted, and the Captain saluted back. Highbrow wasn’t military, so the salute was overkill. Like most teenagers at the Peak, though, he wanted to be a soldier. Showing respect for leadership was a good step in that direction. He tucked the envelope into his pocket, and turned to depart. The Captain stopped him before he took another step.

  “What did you want to tell me, Highbrow?”

  “You probably already know about the jet that blew up over the Garden, sir. The pilot fried on the fence, but he had a backpack that we retrieved. Inside was a black box that Sarge sent to the Professor to examine.” Highbrow noticed the commander didn’t look surprised. “We also found a zombie kid in Manitou Springs. Cadence wanted it reported immediately, but remained to search for more. She sent me, and I’m anxious to get back to help the team.”

  “Of course you are. Where there is one zombie, there are usually more,” said the Captain, repeating the words Cadence spoke to him earlier. “I’ll send backup to the Garden tonight. Hurry and you should be able to report to Sarge and get back to your team before nightfall. Get going, son, and be careful out there.”

  Highbrow quick-paced to his ATV, pleased the Captain thought enough of him to let him deliver a message to Sarge, but concerned about how late he’d get back to Manitou Springs.

  Cadence and the rest of the team would begin to worry. As much as he wanted to join the Tigers, disobeying the Captain’s direct order was out of the question. He sped west, toward the main generators.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Four

  The sun was low by the time the Fighting Tigers finished checking houses and scanned the littered main street of Manitou Springs again. Dark shadows lengthened over lonely sidewalks, making the vacant stores and buildings even creepier. An hour of daylight remained, and Cadence considered another sweep to make sure no more zombies were stalking them. Memories of what it was like before the Captain restored law and order filled her mind. Images of torn, bloody faces and entrail-eating creatures with maggot-infested sores replaced her happy life before the Scourge.

  “Seen enough?” asked Dodger, sounding more frightened than he realized. “I don’t want to be here when the sun sets. This place is clear. I’m sure the Garden is safe, too, so let’s skip riding the trails and set up camp.”

  “Probably a good idea, but we won’t burn a fire tonight. We’ll camp topside, in the rocks,” said Cadence. The others nodded. It was their usual hiding place.

  Rumbling from behind forced her to turn and look over her shoulder. She spotted an Army transport filled with armed soldiers. It had to be Sarge’s patrol going to dig up the pilot’s body. Whisper slowed his four-wheeler, pulling to the side of the road to watch the transport pass. Cadence scoured the group of soldiers, hoping to see Rafe with them. There were at least fifteen soldiers in the back, but Rafe was not among them.

  Cadence remembered when they met, almost a year ago when she first arrived at camp. She saw Rafe in the bed of an Army truck, laughing with his friends. A moment flashed and he noticed her too. When their eyes met, she felt as t
hough an arrow pierced her heart. She stopped what she was doing and gawked at him. Rafe was a vision, and one she didn’t want to end. He felt something too. He pushed the guys back, and with a stupid grin lifted his hand to wave as his truck rolled past her. Cadence waved back, feeling foolish when his friends laughed and jeered Rafe. When he returned from patrol, he looked for her and introduced himself. One kiss later, she fell for him.

  Feeling like that kiss was a lifetime ago, Cadence pushed Rafe from her thoughts as she and her team followed the truck. The soldiers didn’t turn into the Garden of the Gods as she expected, but instead remained toward Colorado Springs. The Captain was taking every precaution, she thought. The scavengers were up north, but might try to sneak in somewhere else. Pike’s Peak hosted a mere company of soldiers in total. Their numbers seemed strong, but she worried the scavengers outnumbered them this time. If all the soldiers were on patrol, including the teenage scout troops, she wondered if the Captain was spreading the Army too thin. Who would be left at the Peak?

  Cadence looked away from the lights of the transport as her team turned, leading into the Garden. They paused at the place where they buried the pilot. Covered well, she doubted the soldiers could find it, while the plane wreckage lay scattered over half a mile.

  “Rest in peace, Lieutenant Joe Strong,” said Cadence. “Rest, Joe Strong,” Whisper echoed.

  They drove on and parked their vehicles, covering them with green tarps before walking the path forty feet above. The path led to a platform that was no more than ten feet around and situated between tall, thin rocky fingers jutting from the ground. Gaps in the rocks provided a surreal view of the mountains and what was once Colorado Springs. In the distance, Cadence watched the lights of the transport vanish around a bend in the road. She hoped Rafe was back at camp, safe and sound.

  “Home again,” said Blaze, as she lit up a cigarette.