Dead Hearts (Book 1): Morbid Hearts

by Susanne L. Lambdin

  Freeborn separated herself from the group and smoothed out the braid in her hair. It was as much stress-relief as it was ritual. Cadence continued staring off in the distance, deep in thought.

  Dodger was quick to offer light banter to break up the mood, then turned to reassure Cadence. “Highbrow is going to be okay. You’ve got that look on your face again. Stop worrying. He’ll be here before you know it.” He caught Smack in a headlock and she was quick to squirm free.

  “You’re right,” said Cadence. “Highbrow can take care of himself.”

  “Since I’ve known Highbrow, he’s always done well. He made good grades and when he didn’t, his dad donated a little extra to the school fund. Never seemed to get into trouble like me. He was a goody-two-shoes even then.”

  “Cut that out. It’s no good talking negative about each other. It hurts morale. We all carry baggage we’d rather keep secret. I suppose that’s why the Captain doesn’t like us talking about where we came from and what we did before the world turned upside down. What matters now is what we do here.”

  “That’s BS,” said Blaze, exhaling a cloud of smoke. “Highbrow’s dad was a criminal. Dodger had a dozen misdemeanors. Smack’s folks were potheads. Freeborn’s family abandoned her. But none of that matters. Only what we do now. What do you think of me? Hmm?”

  Blaze ran a hand through her color-tipped hair. Sufficiently pierced and tattooed, Blaze was unapologetic about standing out in a crowd. There were certain tattoos she only revealed for trade. She did a lot of things for trade.

  “Everybody thinks I’m a slut,” said Blaze. “We all know it. Doesn’t that bother you, even a little?”

  Cadence shook her head. “I know what you do, Blaze, and I hold no judgment. I may not always agree with your choices, but those are your choices. It’s you I care about. As long as you don’t get knocked up, no, you don’t bother me. I know it’s been hard on you. Growing up in the city without your dad around, and having to carry a heavy load with your mom and brother was tough. I also understand it was hard when your brother died on the road trying to get you here from Kansas City. All any of us want is a little kindness. I’m not judging what you do on your own time.”

  “I think you’re hot!” teased Dodger.

  “Shut up!” Blaze snapped.

  Cadence continued. “Look, it’s been hard on all of us. Personally, I think the Tigers are the best patrol at the Peak. Together we have the necessary skills, and we work well together. We need each other. We are family now.”

  “Family,” said Whisper.

  “What were you before all this, Whisper?” Blaze said, without tact. “Seriously, why don’t you ever talk? You’re so cryptic. You must have gone through some hell. Tell us.”

  “He doesn’t have to,” Smack said, yawning. “You don’t have to say anything, Whisper. But if you want to, we’ll listen.”

  Whisper pulled his orange beret from his head and stashed it in a pocket. He zipped up his coat and leaned back against a rock. If he had been anyone else, Cadence would have expected it to simply be a storyteller’s way of getting comfortable before spinning a tale. Instead, Whisper got comfortable, crossed his arms over his chest, and closed his eyes.

  “Killjoy,” said Blaze. “Whisper never talks about anything.”

  “And you talk too much.” Cadence intended her comment to be a shut off valve.

  “What about you, Cadence?” Smack snuggled up against Dodger. “You never lose your cool in battle. You always know what to do. How come you never talk about yourself? What are you hiding?”

  Cadence shrugged. “I’m from a small town in Kansas. I grew up riding horses and drove a truck to school each day. I was on the swim team and played the saxophone. My dad was a lawyer and my mother a schoolteacher. I had two sisters and a dog named Samson. It was an ordinary life.”

  “But you’re not ordinary.” Freeborn relocated to sit in front of the group on a frayed rug she rolled out. “Not once have I seen you run from a fight or leave someone behind. You have to be the coolest chick at the Peak and yet you come off so humble. I had seven brothers and our fun was hunting on the reservation. When things turned to crap, not one of them thought about checking on me. I came home to find an empty house and hitchhiked to get here.” She pointed to her shotgun. “My father gave me that gun when I was ten. When I arrived here, it’s all I had left of my family.”

  It wasn’t quite the story Cadence expected to hear. She felt sorry for Freeborn, and for all of them. Apparently the Tigers wanted her to share something extraordinary that turned her into a leader and gave her the courage to face zombies without running.

  “I know about your past,” said Blaze. She tossed the butt of her cigarette over the edge and lit another. “You came here with a bunch of kids from your school on a field trip to raft the Colorado River. They say when the virus hit you were still on the river and that you didn’t know about it until it was time to go home. Nobody came to pick you up, so you headed for town, but you’re the only one who made it to the Peak.”

  Cadence shivered with the memory. It was not something she wanted talk about, nor was it anything she cared to remember, but the others grew silent and she felt pressed.

  “We had few rations, no radio, and no cell phones. It took three days to reach the main road. Cars drove by one after another, but only one stopped to give us a ride. A man and his wife.” Cadence paused, exhaling. “They told us what happened and offered to take us to their cabin in the mountains. Some decided to wait for another car, determined to get back home, but I convinced the rest to go and wait things out at the cabin. I didn’t know the husband was infected.”

  She closed her eyes. Flashbacks of the truck slamming into a tree outside of the log cabin raged in her mind. She witnessed the man pull his head from the shattered windshield, turn, and take a bite out of his wife’s face. Instincts saved her, and she had been the one to take care of the mess.

  “We stayed in the cabin for a week until one of the guys wanted to go to town,” continued Cadence. “Everyone listened to him but me, and they left the next morning. Days later one of them came back.” She grimaced as she relived the scratching at the door, the piteous moaning, and how she mustered the courage to walk outside with an axe to take care of the problem.

  “He came back a zombie, didn’t he?” said Smack, her eyes wide with excitement. “What about the others? Did they come back for you too?”

  Cadence nodded.

  “Leave her alone, people,” Freeborn said. “You know what happened. It happened to all of us, one way or another.”

  The sun set fast behind Pike’s Peak, outlining a glowing row of purplish clouds.

  “I’m enjoying this,” said Dodger. “Highbrow never lets us talk about our past. I know it’s the rules and all, but it makes me feel better.”

  Smack frowned. “He should be here by now.”

  “Something must have happened back at HQ to delay him. Maybe that’s why the soldiers kept going,” Dodger reasoned.

  “I’d rather be here than anywhere else,” Smack said in a soft voice.

  Cadence stared back at the Peak. “A lot of things could have happened. All we can do now is sit and wait. He’ll get here when he can. He knows where we are.” She sensed Dodger was right. Something had happened and Highbrow was not coming. She felt sick to her stomach.

  They spent the next hour sharing rations, and a liter of water.

  “Get some sleep, guys.” Cadence stretched her arms wide, then reached down to touch the grip of the .44 at her side. “I’ll keep watch for the next few hours. Whisper you’ll be next, then Freeborn, then Blaze.”

  She watched the others unzip their sleeping bags and settle in for the night. It was cold and uncomfortable, but no one complained. Dodger and Smack bundled close together. Blaze lay beside Freeborn, embracing her new rifle like a lover. Whisper kept his eyes open and on Cadence.

  “You don’t need to stay awake, Whisper. I said I’ll take the first wa
tch.”

  “Take a whiff.” He stood up and joined Cadence, pointing toward town. He sniffed at the wind like a dog, grimacing when he caught scent of something unpleasant. “Smell it?”

  Cadence inhaled deep and gagged. Zombies. The smell carried far when there were enough of them. “It’s pretty ripe. I wonder if the soldiers are aware we have company. Maybe I should fire off a shot and warn them?”

  Whisper shook his head. “Don’t.”

  Sudden heavy gunfire and violent explosions echoed through the Garden. The rocks shook in protest. Cadence felt a body press up against her. Smack clung to Cadence, terrified as the battle picked up in intensity. Another explosion brought every Tiger to attention.

  “Think its zombies, or scavengers?” asked Dodger, nervous.

  Blaze held her rifle. “Don’t matter,” she said. “The soldiers are pounding the hell out of them. Should we send up a flare and get the attention of Base Camp?”

  The Tigers all looked at Cadence, waiting for her orders. She knew her first responsibility was keeping her team alive. A night assault was too dangerous.

  “Look, I know you want to fight,” said Cadence. “The scavengers are miles away and it’s our job to watch for them. If the troops can’t hold the zombies, it’ll be up to us to keep them from reaching camp. That means we sit tight and wait until light.”

  “Whatever you say,” Blaze said, disappointed. “You’re the leader.”

  Fifteen minutes passed and the fighting stopped. Cadence choked back emotion when all was still except for the single cry of a wounded soldier calling out in the dark. His cry was cut short.

  “What do we do?” asked Smack. “Shouldn’t we go help him?”

  “No way.” Dodger shivered. “I’m not going. Screw him.”

  “What if it’s Highbrow?” Blaze was furious.

  “It’s not Highbrow. We can’t climb down these rocks in the dark, so forget it,” Cadence said, dropping her arm from around Smack’s slender shoulders. “I don’t want to hear another thing said about it. I made my decision. Now get some rest.”

  “Zombies don’t rest,” said Freeborn.

  The direction of the wind changed. Cadence smelled only pine trees, but she knew the soldiers lost the battle.

  “God help us,” said Whisper.

  Cadence looked at each member of her team. “I know you’re scared, but there’s nothing we can do until morning. It’s going to be okay. We’re together and we’re safe.”

  Out of character, Blaze threw her arms around Cadence and kissed her on the cheek. The entire team pressed in together for a group hug. When it ended, everyone but Cadence and Whisper sat down on Freeborn’s blanket, getting comfortable once more. Whisper used his own blanket to spread over the girls. He sat with his back to a rock, rifle on his lap, and pulled the hood of his parka over his head.

  Cadence stared into the darkness for a long time, her thoughts drifting from Highbrow to Rafe. Highbrow was cautious, and didn’t take risks. That meant he would not arrive until morning. It was too risky to ride alone into the Garden at night. But Rafe was the opposite and went on missions most people would not dare. Part of Rafe’s charm was his foolish bravery, and it didn’t hurt that he was handsome. Rafe was also the only boy Cadence had ever completely fell for, and now he might be one of the living dead.

  A star shot across the sky. Cadence made a wish that both Rafe and Highbrow were safe, wherever they were. Come morning, her first priority was to find them both. She hoped they survived the night.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Five

  On a barren hill two miles into his westward sprint, Highbrow located parked military vehicles and several soldiers repairing a hole in the fence. They ignored him as he drove around looking for Sarge. The sun was setting and clouds shadowed the Peak. A few soldiers were standing beside the generator shack, while two more sat in the grass studying the horizon with their binoculars. Highbrow found Sarge with two officers standing behind a beat up Jeep.

  Highbrow parked his four-wheeler and walked to where the officers stood.

  Sarge was propped on the hood, smoking a cigar. Two scavengers knelt by the Jeep with their hands tied behind their backs. One was a man in his fifties with a graying, thick beard, decked in leather riding gear. A pretty, red-haired girl leaned against the biker. Her dress was torn, revealing toned legs and too much skin. Both prisoners were bleeding from cuts on their faces and bruises were swelling fast.

  Highbrow recognized a tall man as Lieutenant Habit, and the stocky frame of Lieutenant Destry. He nodded at Sarge and saluted the officers when they looked his way. Sarge was in the middle of a war story, and Highbrow knew better than to interrupt. He learned some things the hard way.

  “. . . and that’s how I knew the Iraqis slipped into our camp. These two did the same damn thing, working their way along the fence until they found a section where the electricity was out and cut the wire. I expect more scavengers are already on our side of the fence, hiding somewhere in Cascade.” Sarge turned on the prisoners. “You two picked the wrong place to cross. Didn’t notice my men hiding in the grass, did you?”

  Lieutenant Habit let out a heavy sigh. He was middle-aged and sported a thick moustache. “If we can’t get that electricity back up and running, Sarge, we will have serious problems. We’ve been notified a horde of zombies is headed this way from Denver. I suspect they’re following the scavengers.”

  “Sectors 22, 23, and 24 should be back up soon,” said Sarge. “Captain has a bunch of kiddy patrols out walking the fence by the highway. He doesn’t think the scavengers will get through the Garden, but I still say we’ve spread our forces too thin.” He tapped his cigar and dropped ash on the girl’s head, laughing when she flinched. “I suppose you and your biker friend thought you could sneak in under our surveillance and rip us off. Not going to happen.” He put his foot on the male prisoner’s back and shoved him forward. “What do you want to do, Lieutenant? Take ’em or shoot ’em?”

  Highbrow cleared his throat. It was time to interrupt. “I’m reporting, Sarge. The Captain sent me.”

  “I say we shoot them,” said Sarge, not recognizing the Captain’s messenger. “We don’t have resources for prisoners.” He put his hand on the girl’s head and she sobbed. “This one is pretty.”

  “You sure you want to be touching her?” asked Destry. “They both might be infected. I’d be glad to help you search her for bite marks, Sarge. A thorough search is necessary.” He snickered. “Why don’t we take her over yonder and have a little look? How ‘bout it, Lieutenant?”

  “No.” Habit smoothed his moustache. “I can see it’s a good thing I dropped by to check on your progress. Neither of you are to touch that girl.” He stuck a cigar between his teeth, but didn’t light it, as was his habit. “I want the main generator working and the electricity back on in those three sectors before you leave, Sarge. That is your only objective. Destry, when you’re through here, I want you up north. Go join the patrols walking the fence.”

  Destry walked around Habit and stopped beside Highbrow, giving him a shove. “What are you doing here, Boy Senator? You said the Captain sent you. Well, what did he have to say?”

  “I have a message for Sarge.” Highbrow kept at attention, his eyes fixed ahead of him. “The Captain was clear that I give Sarge the message personally.”

  Sarge stormed over to stand in front of Highbrow, knocking the girl to the side. Highbrow flinched when the brutish soldier blew cigar smoke in his face. The smell of the bittersweet cigar reeked with the scent of a mistreated liver. Highbrow held back a gag.

  “When did you have time to see the Captain? I gave you and the Tigers orders to return to the Garden over an hour ago, boy. Are you trying to earn brownie points by kissing the Captain’s butt? It’s not going to get you into the Freedom Army any faster.” He stuck his finger in Highbrow’s chest. “When I give an order, I expect it to be followed.”

  “Back off,” Habit warned. “Give Sarge t
he message, Highbrow.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Highbrow. He removed the envelope from his coat and handed it to Sarge. “If that’s all, gentlemen, I need to return to the Tigers.”

  “Hold your horses, kid.”

  Sarge took the envelope and ripped it open with his stained, crooked teeth. Lieutenant Habit produced a flashlight for Sarge to read the note.

  “Says here the Captain wants all prisoners brought to HQ. Alive. He wants to question them himself,” said Sarge. He crumpled the paper and tossed it to the ground. “When did he go soft? The scavengers cut through our fence. The rules are clear. I say we shoot them both and toss them back over the fence.”

  Lieutenant Habit picked up the message. He read it, letting it fall to the ground again. Despite their difference in ranks, Habit and Sarge both served in the military for years. Swaying an old bulldog like Sarge would take force.

  “It’s a direct order,” said Habit. “These two are coming with me to HQ, and that’s final. Highbrow can ride back with me. Send all prisoners to Base Camp. If we can make contact with their leader and avoid a battle, that’s what we need to do.”

  Lieutenant Habit looked at the girl. Highbrow knew Sarge and Destry would rape her if she was left behind, and her friend would be tortured. Sarge would take matters into his own hands if given the chance. No direct order would prevent him for handling things the way he wanted. Habit, at least, had the foresight to save those he could.

  “I can take these prisoners in later,” said Sarge. “Highbrow has patrol duty and I’m sure you have important things to do, Lieutenant.”

  Highbrow felt the tension rippling between the older men. He grew nervous when the Lieutenant put his hand on his revolver and eased his fingers around the grip.

  “We can’t spare you to grunt work, Sarge,” growled Habit. “You’re too damn important. After you get the electricity on again, join Lieutenant Destry and walk the north fence but be careful. There’s no telling how many are trying to break in, and it’s not just scavengers out there.”