Muffled voices pulled him out of his bloodthirsty trance. He jerked away from Samuel and turned his gaze to the door above him. He strained his ears. There was definitely the unmistakable sound of voices, but he couldn’t hear what they said.
Yes! Matt found me and is here to save me!
Think about it for a minute. If Matt was going to save you, why would he try to kill you?
Caleb’s breath caught in his throat as the reality of the situation hit him. As much as he wanted to believe someone was going to save him, he had to look at it logically. It certainly wasn’t Matt out there. As far as Caleb knew, Matt didn’t know Caleb was in trouble, let alone on this road. Caleb walked away from Matt, who said he wouldn’t come after him, so Caleb was on his own. Whoever was out there was dangerous. They already tried to take them out. Perhaps they thought they already had. Caleb was certainly in no shape to fight, and Samuel barely clung to life. Caleb’s gaze darted around the cab, searching for something he could use as a weapon. He found nothing.
The voices grew louder but remained muffled. Caleb had no time. Even if he could get out, he certainly wasn’t going to get far fast. He was going to have to wait and see how the situation played out. The thought didn’t comfort him.
Then, when the situation presents itself, you run. Stick to the plan.
Caleb took as deep a breath as possible—which wasn’t much—and attempted to steel his nerves. He had no way to predict how the people out there would react to seeing him alive in the truck. He had to be smart and prepared to keep himself alive.
The sound of metal against metal resounded through the truck, vibrating through the cab and threatening to shake Caleb apart. For several moments, the vibrations continued. Samuel moved with the truck, his blood spattering every surface of the interior. The drops hit Caleb, and he brought his hands up to keep the liquid out of his eyes. Through the melee, Caleb thought he heard Samuel groan, but it could have just been his imagination or even him. The noise was so loud, he barely heard himself think. He clenched his jaw to keep from yelling out; if he did, he was sure he would break.
Suddenly, the shaking and squealing stopped, leaving a ringing in Caleb’s ears and numbness throughout his body. His knees threatened to give out. He didn’t sink down to the door because his hip was caught on something on the dash. A clicking sounded at the door. Caleb readied himself. Light flooded through the opening, blinding him. Panic squeezed his chest. He wanted to be able to see what came at him; he wanted to put up some kind of fight if he had to. Shadows moved across the opening, giving him some reprieve from the brightness. Looking up, he saw human-shaped silhouettes.
“Well, one of them is alive.” The voice was soft and distinctly feminine. Caleb couldn’t tell if the tone held relief or disappointment.
“Yup. Looks awfully beat up.” This one appeared to be male with a slight Southern accent.
“You all right?” The girl again, louder and directed at Caleb.
He could only imagine how awful he looked; he felt like hammered hell. “No,” he croaked.
“What about the other one? He alive?”
Caleb squinted up at the shadows. “I don’t know. Maybe. Barely.”
Irritation surged through him. It was bad enough these jerks attacked them for whatever reason, but for them to gawk at him like some sideshow when he obviously needed assistance was beyond ridiculous.
“Get ‘em out.”
The guy moved from the door and allowed the sun to come streaming through, blinding Caleb once again. The girl positioned herself at the door and reached through to untangle Samuel’s arms from the steering wheel.
“I’m going to need you to hold him, so he doesn’t fall farther and undo his seat belt. Can you do that?”
Caleb’s vision adjusted to the light, and he could see. The sun sparkled on the blood covering Samuel’s face. His mouth watered as he thought about the salty chocolate taste. It would be so easy to lick it off. It was right there. The copper tang hit his nostrils. He turned to the girl.
“I’ll try.”
He moved so his shoulder was underneath Samuel’s. Pain radiated through his back and shoulder, his muscles twitched and protested the awkward angle; Caleb had to crouch and twist his body to get good leverage.
“Okay. I’m releasing his seat belt now.”
He fumbled around Samuel’s waist looking for the button. His body pressed against it, making it impossible to push. Caleb stretched up, hoping the movement would give him the inch he needed. It did. Samuel’s body slammed into his, causing his knees to go weak. Caleb thought for sure the weight would take him down. Blood ran down his face and pooled on his lips. He licked them, then sucked in his bottom lip to get as many drops as he could. The weight eased as the girl hoisted Samuel out of the truck.
As soon as Samuel was clear, her hand came down to help him out. Caleb didn’t hesitate to take it. Getting out of the truck was the first step to getting away. He had exerted a lot of energy getting Samuel out, so he relied on help more than he thought he needed to. The girl’s strength surprised him. She used minimal effort to lift him out.
The sun and heat hit Caleb the moment he was out of the truck. His knees gave out immediately, and he collapsed onto the sand. He positioned himself so he sat with his knees pulled up to his chest. His muscles shook with exertion, his head pounded. Pain radiated through his body, tightening his chest and making breathing difficult. Still, it felt good to be out of the truck, and the sun on his back loosened a few of the knots. As he sat there, he took in the truck. It was quite a ways from the road, and from the marks in the sand and the trail of metal parts, it had rolled to its current position. The truck looked like a squished aluminum can. Caleb probably wouldn’t have gotten out without assistance.
His gaze drifted away from the truck. About ten people stood around the area. Now that she wasn’t silhouetted by the sun, Caleb saw the girl who had helped him out had short red hair tied up in a gray bandana. She wore dirty jeans frayed with holes in the knees. Her turquoise tank top was faded and spotted with dirt and other dark stains. Caleb didn’t want to guess what they were; he had a fairly good idea. Spots of blood from getting Samuel out dotted her jeans, shirt, and arms. In time, they would fade like the other stains. The other people were a mix of men and women, all looking as unkempt as she did. But underneath the dirt, the group had a strength about them. If Caleb had been in better shape, he would have avoided these people.
Caleb glanced around further. Samuel lay in the sand to his right with two people bent over him. The others stared at the scene with interest, then their gaze flicked toward him. Their wrinkled foreheads told Caleb they were concerned he might be a threat. If Caleb could be sure it wouldn’t hurt, he would have laughed. He hiccupped in several small breaths. The fresh air and warmth continued to revive him. His muscles didn’t ache as bad, and his headache waned, but he certainly wasn’t running anywhere anytime soon. He hoped he had the strength to run when the chance presented itself.
One of the guys over Samuel straightened up and addressed someone behind and to Caleb’s left. “He needs medical attention. He’s lost a lot of blood, and I don’t doubt has some broken bones.”
“Will he survive?” It was the guy with the Southern accent.
“Hard to say.”
Caleb would have turned to look at the man, but he didn’t have the energy. He continued to stare at Samuel. Blood covered him from head to toe, his body looked mangled and frail as he lay on the sand. Caleb searched for feelings about the situation but found none. The only sensation he experienced looking at Samuel was the memory of how delicious his blood tasted.
An engine revved behind Caleb, piquing his curiosity. He positioned himself to look over his shoulder. A van pulled into the sand, sending up yellow clouds of dust. It was an ordinary white van, but there was something familiar about it. Caleb searched his memory, but his brain felt muddled and foggy. It pulled up next to Samuel, and the door slid open. It hit him: th
e scavengers! It looked like the van he had seen in the suburbs. He turned back to the people in front of him, examining their feet. He was almost positive the same black boots he had seen from under the dresser were on the girl who had helped him out of the truck. He needed to examine them closer to be sure, but that probably wasn’t going to happen. It didn’t really matter if these were the same people or not; they had no idea Caleb had been hiding in the house, and for safety’s sake, it was probably better they never knew.
His attention was drawn to the pair working on Samuel as they gently lifted him and took him to the van.
This is your chance!
Caleb attempted to stretch out his legs and get to his feet, but his body felt disconnected from itself. He flopped back onto the sand, completely exhausted, with fresh pain running through him. Two sets of hands grabbed his arms and lifted. He attempted to jerk away, but it was so weak, the guys helping him didn’t even flinch or tighten their grips. They directed him into the van—into the corner farthest from the door.
This is not where you want to be.
CHAPTER 7
“Why did you attack us?”
Caleb huddled in the corner of the van, his knees pulled up to his chest. With Samuel sprawled on the floor, there wasn’t much room for anyone to sit. He didn’t care about being crunched up—it was a more comfortable position for him. Caleb had expected the back to be full of supplies and plundered loot—when he saw the scavengers in the city, they had been carrying bags—but it was empty. It wasn’t disconcerting to see the van was empty, but it would have helped Caleb confirm these people were, in fact, scavengers. It would have given him a better idea who he was dealing with. The van bounced down the road, knocking him against the walls and increasing his pain. Caleb couldn’t tell which way they headed because there were no windows in the back. To say he was uncomfortable was an understatement.
The girl with the bandana sighed and looked at the others before speaking. “We didn’t mean to attack you. We were just messing around in the desert with a catapult and hit you.” Her eyes flicked to the ground.
Caleb narrowed his eyes as he stared at her, studying her face for signs of treachery. In the dimness of the van with his head pounding, he couldn’t tell if she told the truth. He doubted it highly. The story seemed ridiculously outlandish. A catapult? In the desert?
The man with the southern accent sitting in the front passenger seat turned to face Caleb. “Don’t worry. We’ll get your friend fixed up.”
Caleb saw him a little better in the van. His hair was cropped close to his head and sandy brown. He had tanned skin, and he looked to be slightly older than Caleb, maybe in his twenties, but he couldn’t be sure. He was a terrible judge of age, and it seemed the zombies had caused everyone to age faster than they were supposed to through stress. His nose had a slight crook to it, and his mouth seemed too small for his face. What really caught Caleb’s attention though was his extremely pale brown eyes. Caleb imagined even now those eyes could lure in women.
Caleb pulled his knees closer to his chest and set his jaw. He continued to stare into the man’s eyes. “He’s not my friend.”
As soon as the words were out, Caleb knew he shouldn’t have said them. They would raise too many questions, and Caleb was not going to answer them.
The man cocked his head to the right and opened his mouth, but before he could say anything Caleb asked, “Where are you taking us?”
The man closed his mouth, appeared to reset to answer the question, then said, “We have a place not far from here equipped with what we’ll need to help your …” He waited for Caleb to insert the appropriate word to describe what relationship he and Samuel had.
“And if he doesn’t make it?” Caleb, of course, referred to if Samuel died and turned into a zombie.
“We have the equipment to take care of that too.”
Not surprising. Having the ability to put a zombie down permanently, whether with a gun or some other weapon, was part of life at this point. But they weren’t only effective against the living dead; they could be used against the living, and this concerned Caleb a great deal.
“What’s going to happen to me?”
“We’ll get you checked out, make sure everything is fine, then decide from there.” He turned back around in his seat, a gesture telling Caleb their conversation was over.
Caleb stared at him for a moment before lowering his gaze. As it drifted down it fell on the girl, and she gave him a weak smile and a small shrug. Caleb had no idea what the gesture meant. His discomfort turned into panic.
I need to run.
He had neither the strength nor the faintest idea of where to go. Once again, he was stuck and at the mercy of others.
Resting his chin on his knee, Caleb kept the group in his line of sight. They did not seem to be as concerned about him as he was of them. They barely glanced in his direction. But then again, Caleb wasn’t much of a threat. He’d just been in an accident. It was a miracle he was even conscious. He certainly wasn’t going to be attacking anyone at the moment or running away, and getting away was his biggest concern.
The two people who had been working on Samuel at the wreck continued to monitor him in the van. Every few minutes they checked his pulse and placed a hand on his chest. He apparently still held on because no one pulled away from him in fear or yelled out about him taking a turn. Caleb wasn’t sure how he felt about Samuel becoming one of them. If Samuel were a zombie, it would take care of a lot of his problems—and get him a van in the process. In the confined space, the others would be easy pickings. Caleb didn’t doubt they’d put up a fight, but some of them would get bit—more than likely the two closest to Samuel. He didn’t see any of them carrying weapons, but Caleb wasn’t naïve enough to think they didn’t have any. He knew they did, they were just hidden. In the confines of the van, if Samuel turned, chaos would take over, and Caleb would use it to his advantage to escape. However, Caleb needed medical attention, so going with the scavengers to their lair had some perks. He was going to have to be extremely cautious once they got there.
Samuel looked like raw hamburger. Blood covered him from head to toe, and his clothes bunched as the crimson liquid dried. Caleb wasn’t sure how Samuel was still alive. He would have assumed after losing so much blood he would have been drained dry. He still couldn’t tell where Samuel was cut, but he assumed it was in multiple places. Caleb grimaced. He didn’t envy the long road to recovery Samuel had to face—assuming he pulled through this.
Karma whispered the voice in the dark. He got what was coming to him.
Caleb tore his gaze away from the body lying in the van and tried not to think about Rachel and Jan, but his thoughts drifted there anyway. Jan’s fate was still unknown, but it seemed fitting for Samuel to be fighting for his life after he had Rachel—and possibly Jan—torn apart by zombies. Poetic justice would have seen Samuel suffer the same fate, and the possibility existed he could still turn. For Caleb, being a zombie was a fate worse than death. He shuddered, trying not to think about how it applied to him.
The van continued to bounce down the road, tossing Caleb against the walls he had wedged himself in between. His muscles cramped. He needed to stretch. He hoped they reached their destination soon.
As soon as the thought flittered across Caleb’s mind, the van slid to a stop. Both the driver and the passenger stepped out, and then the side door slid open, bathing the interior of the van in yellow-white sunlight. A flurry of activity followed as the others hurried out of the van. As cautiously but as quickly, as possible, they lifted Samuel and carried him away. Caleb was the only one left in the van, but Bandana Girl and Southern Boy stood at the door waiting for him. With more room, Caleb delicately stretched out his legs. His joints popped, his muscles protested, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. Maybe he wasn’t as better as he assumed he was. His head rolled backward and clunked against the metal walls. Bandana Girl and Southern Boy rushed to his sides and grabbed his arms. The
y helped him get up and out of the van.
As the group stepped into the light, Caleb noticed the compound. Squat metal buildings were arranged in a square and surrounded by a chain-link fence. Canyon walls of yellow sandstone towered over them on two sides. Wherever they were, it was sufficiently protected. Caleb’s shoulders slumped as he was carried into one of the metal buildings. How was he going to get out of this one?
Bandana Girl and Southern Boy set him down on a bed. Caleb instantly became aware of how soft and comfortable it was. Weariness washed over him, but he knew he couldn’t relax. He had to maintain vigilance.
“We need some help with this one!” Southern Boy called out, his voice echoing softly across the metal walls.
Caleb lifted his head enough to see a doctor approach the side of his bed. His eyes widened slightly. It was an in-the-flesh doctor with navy blue scrubs and a stethoscope around his neck out in the middle of nowhere. He glanced at his immediate surroundings. An IV pole sat to his left, along with a heart monitor. On his right was an oxygen tank with a mask. His breath caught in his throat. The whole setup was extremely professional and brought images of Zomtech to his mind.
Saving Humanity Series (Book 2): Edge of Humanity Page 6