She’d been in love and had been loved, but it never seemed to last. And after each, she had always sworn she would never love again. This particular time was no different, other than perhaps her resolve and resignation.
It wasn’t that Emma was trying to be heartless. She cared deeply for Neil, respected him, and appreciated him, but it was simply not enough to encourage her to let down her guard and make herself vulnerable again. She wasn’t willing to go down that path another time. Some people might feel compelled to seek mates and relationships, but Emma wasn’t one of those people. All the warmth and security and whatever else one derived from romance did not come close to balancing with all the misery, loss, and whatever else she would suffer when the relationship eventually failed.
Jerry was instead the one who commented on Neil’s apparent decision. “Uh, Neil, have you thought that maybe hitting it with the truck might not be a great idea?”
“Why not?”
“I mean, I’m the damned teenager here. Why am I the only one who might be worried her head or other body part might come through the windshield or my window? I like being warm and dry for a change. Oh yeah, and my legs not always feeling tired is pretty freaking cool, too, by the way. So, I think it might be a good idea to take care of this truck so maybe it’ll take care of us.”
Neil corrected their course and steered them away from the zombie who turned slowly as they passed and hissed at them its disappointment. “Sorry. I guess I just let myself get distracted.”
As if answering a question that hadn’t been asked, Della said, “Maybe that’s the key. Maybe them monsters distract everyone. Maybe they can help us. Maybe they can be our distraction.”
Emma shook her head and asked, “What in the hell are you talking about?”
“No, Della’s right,” Neil said. “I was trying to figure out how to get Claire and those kids back. I was comin’ up empty to be honest. Steve, you said the Colonel had more than twenty men and a bunch of guns?”
Steve, watching a trio of wretched ghouls loitering in a parking lot of a looted and burned business, answered, “Yeah quite a few more’n twenty I guess. That is unless Carter’s convinced any more of the other men in the group to join his men and then who knows how many? When you caught me, I’d been out with them boys for a few days lookin’ for supplies and scouting around in general. Carter’s real persuasive, I’d guess you’d say. They got a couple of honest to God machine-guns and a bunch of guns that might be what you’d call cousins of military hardware. They got some other odds and ends too but I don’t know what all of it did.”
“Twenty guns is enough,” Neil remarked. “That’s more than we can deal with. We need some kind of an edge if we’re gonna have any hope at all.” Neil slowed the vehicle and turned left. He asked, “So how are we gonna do this then?”
53.
Royce, his hair as white and stormy as a cloud, stood in the doorway of the small conference room of the Skyview school library. He looked over his shoulder to make certain no one was within earshot. Satisfied, he said, “I don’t trust no one here. No one gives a rat’s ass about no one else.”
Jess nodded her head in agreement. She was about to say something, when Royce continued, “No one except you that is. I need help and you’re the only one here that I can ask.”
Jess was caught off guard by his candor and by the compliment. She looked up at him this time and nodded much more slowly. She was agreeing without having first heard what was being asked of her. She would have agreed regardless. She had been missing something for quite a while and she suddenly realized what it was: purpose. She no longer went on outside excursions and her duties as a laundress were less than fulfilling.
Royce, almost with a whisper, said calmly, “I’m gonna go get those kids out and then get them away from here. And I can’t do it alone.”
“I’m in.”
Royce smiled as much as he ever did, revealing his perfect teeth which were as white as his hair. “I was hopin’ you’d say that. I really didn’t know how I was gonna do it alone.”
“How do you plan on getting them out?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’m gonna go do it now.”
Jess leaned forward and whispered, “Well hold on just a second. I might have something that will help.”
Just outside the doors of the conference room was a bookshelf that housed, among other things, Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon. Jess walked up to that section, touched the book lightly and then pulled it from the shelf. She reached in quickly, as if she was thrusting her hand into boiling water, and then pulled it back out with something small, wrapped in a scrap of cloth. She held the item in her hand as if weighing it for authenticity, and then rolled it out of the cloth.
It was the revolver Simeon had given her. There was a small handful of shiny bullets lying in the cloth next to it. The little gun seemed almost a child’s plaything but the bullets added to the toy a sense of purpose and gravitas.
Royce, his eyes wide with wonderment, asked in disbelief, “How the hell did you hide that?”
“Girl’s gotta have her secrets.”
More than a little pleased, Royce gushed, “Well hallelujah for that, sister. I think you just made all this a lot easier.”
“Royce, what about that woman?” Jess asked with concern. “Are we gonna try and help her? We can’t just leave her.”
“One thing at a time. We gotta get those kids outta that hell those bastards put them in. If we can actually get that done, then we can talk. Well, get it done without...”
Jess finished for him, “...getting us both killed.”
Royce said, “I figure either way, something gets resolved tonight.”
54.
Jess opened the back door where Simeon had slept all those weeks ago. The outside air was crisp and dry against her cheeks as she entered the dark evening. While the short days of winter were still some time off in the future, the nights were starting to become much darker much quicker. Due to the absence of any artificial light from street lamps, vehicle headlights, or neon store marquees, the darkness seemed so much more absolute in the dead of night. Luckily, there was still some lingering purple tinted light when she stepped outside.
She looked over and could make out the contours of the cages sitting like an isolated archipelago in a concrete sea. There was something else too. A swirling twist of air with a little more than just air to it. Snow. It was faint, not much more than frost that spread wet kisses on the cold air, but it was definitely there. Jess stopped and breathed in the cold moisture which crowded out all the warmth in her lungs. The chill swept through her from the inside out.
Almost at once, she could hear the snarling, snorting foulness of the undead who had been caged in kennels surrounding the children. Luckily, the loading bay and car lot were both empty.
Jess had been concerned that her resolve might fade a bit when actually facing the task. She was pleasantly surprised to find that hearing the creatures steeled her nerves and set her on her path. There were at least three of the militiamen patrolling along the wall perimeter but still some distance away. All three walked with the enthusiasm of a mall cop on beat after hours.
Jess looked at Royce, who hadn’t taken his eyes off of the cages. He was carrying a mop handle that he had sharpened and honed into a very lethal point. He was also carrying an equally sharp but much shorter filleting knife.
Ignoring any looks thrown their direction by the armed men, the two of them walked up to the nearest cage. Jess said over the grunts of the ghoul separating her from the children on the other side, “Hold tight, kids. We’re here to get you out.”
Danny, who had neither slept nor sat since he had been locked inside, sighed and started to cry tears of relief. He knew someone would come for them. He just thought it would have been Neil. He didn’t care at the moment though. He just wanted to be able to rest his legs and his eyes. He’d been fighting both the cold and sleep all day and into the night. He knew that if
he was to surrender to sleep, he would have ended up in the clutches of one of those things that was almost close enough to touch him as it was.
The frigid air would have made sleep difficult as well. He and the three other children were pressed as tightly together as possible due to more than just fear of the zombies. They were freezing, their teeth chattering uncontrollably and shivers running the lengths of their bodies every few seconds. Danny tried to hug all of them against him through most of the day, but he was starting to get so tired. For a moment, he was afraid the voice he was hearing was merely a hallucination.
Royce said gruffly, “C’mon you bastard. Come on over and see what ol’ Royce has got for ya.”
The beast in the cage became even more agitated with the introduction of more prey. It pressed its face against the fence, trying to get closer to Royce who was standing just out of reach. The stench of rot, though faded with time and the elements, was much thicker from this proximity. The odor was kin with raw sewage, animal feces, and mothballs. It was hard to remember that these things were once human.
Royce smiled at Jess and then plunged the sharpened stick into the demon’s empty eye socket. A small stream of heavy, dark, syrupy fluid spilled from the new wound as the abomination convulsed momentarily and then slid down the chain link fence. It curled itself into a twisted heap and was no more.
There was a padlock hanging on the fence, but it hadn’t been locked because no one could find the key. Royce pulled the lock out and hurled it across the basketball court. He flung open the gate which whistled and creaked like old bones. In a flash, he was through the next barrier and face to face with four very scared faces. He nodded and motioned to them with his hands.
The four children needed no more encouragement. They scurried out of the enclosure and sprinted across the basketball court to the back of the school without saying a word. Against the school wall and as far from their prison as they were able to be, they turned and huddled into a ball of scared, shivering bodies.
Looking at the children, Royce was feeling pretty good about himself and his decision. The hurried footsteps approaching from behind threatened to change all that. Ignoring the sound, he started to walk away toward the kids and Jess who was already making her way toward them as well.
The voice that caused Royce to stop dead in his tracks was that of Mel, one of the Colonel’s loyal henchmen. Mel was a believer in the Colonel’s madness which made him extremely dangerous. Royce breathed in deeply and pulled the knife from his jacket pocket. He hoped the darkness was enough to conceal his intent. He didn’t know if he was ready to do what he resolved to do or not, but he would soon.
The footsteps behind him grew ever closer, as did the volume of the questions. Royce had his eyes closed when he turned to face the much younger man. The confrontation was interrupted with frantic shouting and thunderous gunshots arising from the front of the school.
The younger Mel looked away from Royce and watched the shadowy silhouettes of his fellow soldiers head away toward the ruckus at the front of the school. Royce took the opportunity to pounce. He stabbed at Mel with the knife, hitting the young man in his stomach and chest. The blade, cutting through the man’s jacket and shirts underneath, produced a long gash across Mel’s torso. Unfortunately for Royce, the knife struck one of Mel’s ribs and was deflected away from doing any significant damage.
Regardless, Mel fell backward clutching the bleeding wound, the warm fluid spilling between his fingers in dark, flowing trails. Royce looked triumphantly over at Jess and smiled. He didn’t see Mel take the pistol from his holster and aim it at Royce’s back. There was, of course, no hesitation from the wounded warrior. From this distance, he needn’t even take aim. He simply pointed the deadly instrument at Royce and let it do its work. The crack echoed off of the school’s outer walls as Mel pulled the trigger and sent a nine millimeter bullet through Royce’s back.
Royce felt the bullet enter and exit his body. It was a sharp, hot pain that sent an uncomfortable buzz from his toes to his eyes. Like he had been punched in the gut, his breath burst forth like a storm cloud from deep within his chest. Gasping, he reached for the little hole in his belly, pulling his hand away with a dark sheen of blood covering his fingers. He tried to recapture his breath but was jolted when Mel pulled the trigger again, sending another bullet into his back.
Royce let the knife, still held in his right hand, fall to the ground. The second bullet hurt far more than the first, hitting him higher on his back and exiting this time through his chest. Jess screamed and started to run toward him but Royce held up his hand to stop her. He smiled at her, though he doubted she could see his expression in the still gathering darkness. His focus lost and his balance faltering, he began to swoon slightly.
Jess ignored Royce’s gesture and ran over to him. She caught him just as he was falling forward, his eyes rolling up into their sockets. She was sobbing and begging Royce to keep breathing, but her effort fell on deaf ears. In a blood-sputtering, violent convulsion, Royce died in Jess’ arms.
Still on the ground and holding his sliced flesh, Mel demanded, “Get me some help! I’m going to bleed to death!”
“You won’t get the chance,” Jess said defiantly and shot him in the neck twice from close range with the pistol she pulled from her pocket. Mel dropped his own pistol and brought both of his hands up to his throat in a futile attempt to stem the flow of blood from the two mortal wounds. His windpipe shredded, when he tried to speak, all that emerged was a gurgling, blood wet sound that was not unlike Royce’s final utterance. She would have shot him again, but the violent shaking in her hands made pulling the trigger nearly impossible.
Jess gently set Royce’s head on the pavement and touched his cheek. She couldn’t stop the tears, though she knew time was of the essence. She needed to get moving, but first she found Mel’s pistol on the ground next to his still struggling, kicking body. As he watched her grab his discarded firearm, Mel’s eyes filled with rage. He felt betrayed by one of the very people he had been, in his mind, protecting from the evil that had fallen upon the world. He couldn’t believe she had shot him. He wanted to strike out at her, but was afraid that if he took his hands away from the spurting wounds on his neck that he would certainly bleed to death. Jess met his stare with equal ire but she chose to say nothing. She shook her head and backed away from him, his own pistol pointed at him as a precaution.
She looked around again and saw the other gun he’d been carrying when Royce surprised him. When she hefted it from the pavement, she was expecting it to be much heavier. She thought to herself how much difference having a gun like that with her might make. She didn’t know how many bullets it held, but just the feel of it in her hands made her feel a little more secure.
By then, Mel was barely breathing and his hands had fallen away from his neck. Jess cursed him as she walked away. She had all but forgotten about the zombies in the cages when she heard one of them moan slightly. It was as if they had been watching the violence like a spectacle of blood in a Roman arena. Caught in their ravenous gaze, Jess couldn’t help the shiver that stopped her in her tracks. She had to fight her rising fear to convince her legs to move again.
She ran to the children, shouting, “We’ve only got a few minutes. We gotta get outta here.”
Danny nodded to her. “Where should we go?”
Jess didn’t know for sure where to go, but knew that they needed to get themselves away from the school which had become a prison. Another series of gunshots from the front of the school distracted both of them from their conversation. She weighed the small pistol in her right hand against the larger pistol in her left. She looked at the silver revolver and thought of Simeon for a moment. The thought was there and gone in a flash. She handed Danny the revolver and fished out the extra shells from her pocket.
She asked the boy, “Do you know how to handle one of these?”
Danny nodded and held out his hand. “Yeah, I had to learn to be able to help.
”
This time Jess nodded. She said to him, “You gotta be careful with this. Okay?”
Danny knew the drill. He looked her in the eyes and nodded another reassurance to her. He slipped the pistol into his pocket and put the extra bullets in his other jacket pocket. The revolver was much bigger and heavier than the pistol Neil had entrusted to him.
Jess asked the air, “What is going on out there?”
55.
Prior to Royce’s gallant but ultimately fateful decision, Emma and Jerry were sprinting at full steam across the bridge spanning the Kenai River. Jerry looked over his shoulder against his better judgment and lost whatever breath he had been able to retain. Fast on the heels of his retreating breath, his will melted away, wilting like a fading flower. He almost lost his balance and had to consciously guide his foot back to the ground so as not to trip. He was worried that if he did fall, he wouldn’t be able to get himself back to his feet in time to escape being today’s dinner special.
Jerry trusted Neil’s judgment, which had served them all well so far. Regardless, through Jerry’s mind paraded a stream of obscenities all directed at Neil and his mother for having had him in the first place. When he looked over at Emma he didn’t see fear or distress or even extreme exertion. She seemed preoccupied by some mundane distraction; nothing more, nothing less. Of course, it could have been a matter of concentration, but he couldn’t tell for sure.
Emma, however, was anything but distracted. She just happened to be focusing on what lay ahead instead of what was pursuing them from behind. Having those things close on their tails had become a simple fact of life. If she were to dwell on that unfortunate circumstance, she doubted she would be able to function. A waking nightmare from which she couldn’t escape by simply opening her eyes would possibly have been enough to stop her cold.
Alaskan Undead Apocalypse (Book 3): Mitigation Book 3) Page 27