by Annie Walls
I write down all the necessary information to keep everything straight. If we’re going to do this, we need to know all we can about the world and the leftover people in it.
I look up from my composition book just in time to see Rudy’s fist slam into Mac’s face. Mac easily takes the force by allowing his body to fall backwards to avoid most of the impact, showing the group some self-defense moves.
The difference between them is Rudy fights dirty. He likes to kick the face and keep kicking even if his opponent is down. Mac might be short, but he fights like any professional fighter, clean. He can block his body better than Rudy and can use his limbs in ways that can kill a man. They are just demonstrating now, but I don’t like seeing it.
I get up and go to the loft. Gwen is making jewelry. She smiles upon seeing me. “No combat for you?”
Shaking my head, I get out my sketchbook and start drawing Gwen and her fine jewelry. She ties complicated knots over and over with hemp string.
“This one is for you,” she says, so I inspect it closer. It’s longer than my bracelet with the same beads. “When I’m finished it will be a head wrap. It will go fantastic with your little lady dreads. For good luck.”
“You don’t have to, even though I’m sure it will be perfect.”
Mac bursts in the door. He’s shirtless, holding the T-shirt to his nose with his head tilted back. I jump up to help him.
“Geez, Mac,” I say at the same time Gwen says, “What’d you do now?”
“Rudy.” He sits, keeping his head tilted. I bring him a damp washcloth, switching it for the bloodied T-shirt. Blood gushes. “The dude packs a mad punch. Someone distracted me, so I got the brunt of it.” His nasally sound makes me tighten my mouth as I suppress a laugh. “That’s okay. I’ll get him back, I’m sure he’s looking forward to it.”
I chew my lip for a brief second. “What? Why?”
“Relieves stress.”
“Maybe you should stick with instructing?”
Mac smiles with blood on his teeth. Honestly, is it sick these things are starting to turn me on a bit? “No way. It’s on now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Another thing I have to do before we start the impossible mission is tell Guido about the famished. I want them around to guard, because who really knows what Dr. Jekyll has up his sleeve? One thing is for sure, they don’t have Mago anymore.
It’s almost nightfall, and I ask Rudy to come along with me. He isn’t going to be as shocked as Guido, but since he doesn’t know about my warehouse, I want to give him the heads up.
We stand at the door to the Trap. It’s warm from being sunny all day, and he wears a long sleeved T-shirt. His hair hangs in waves and he’s watching me intently with his hands in his blue jean pockets, his thumbs sticking out. He waits for me to explain more.
I glance away before looking back at him. I clear my throat, “I have a warehouse full of zombies.” I go on quickly, “Using them to guard the community while we’re gone.” I blow out a breath.
“You think showing Guido is wise?” It’s the only thing he asks me. Nothing I do ever surprises him, as if he expects the abnormal from me.
I shrug, “He needs to know so he doesn’t shoot them. There is really no other explanation.”
“You can tell him it’s Mago,” he says, but his face changes as he realizes that won’t work either.
“See? I haven’t got a choice.”
“Thanks for the warning.” He pauses, “You can tell me anything, you know?”
I smile at the familiarity of the conversation. “You can, too.”
“What do you want to know?”
Everything. I swallow, wanting to ask him about his mother, but I can’t. The main reason being I want him to tell me without me prompting the discussion. “When did you learn to play the guitar?” I blurt out of nowhere.
He seems to think my question is fine. “I was eight when I got my first guitar. Played around with it. Self taught.” He shrugs, “I had a lot of time.”
I only stare at him. His a lot of time comment breaks my heart for him, knowing his mother left him alone a lot.
He must see it on my face because his eyes flash before narrowing. “What?”
“Nothing.” I smile, trying to lighten my thoughts. “Just imagining you as a kid.” I really break out into a grin now. A cute little hazel-eyed boy sitting, watching himself pluck the strings. Rudy grins at me. “I bet you were cute,” I coo, opening the door.
He chuckles, grabbing the door over my head to hold it for me. “I was.” Was, my hinny. He still is, although I wouldn’t call it cute. Our gazes meet. “I bet you were, too,” he coos back.
Grinning, I duck under his arm and stroll through the door. “I was.”
*
We knock on Guido’s door and he opens it in a Speedo. The man is shameless. I sigh, “Get dressed. I have something to show you.”
It only takes him ten minutes to do so and get a couple of his men since we are going outside the gates. He already knows about the mission and possible side attacks. I don’t know what he plans to do about it, but I hope this will help.
We stand on the dock with a bright orange sky as a backdrop. “I don’t really know how to explain, so I’ll show you.” With that, I untie the rope and raise the door. The smell hits me first. The recent rain has left it humid and the sunny day heated it up. I don’t know how much longer they can last in here.
Guido’s man, Jocko, gasps and jumps back. “Whut da fuck?” He raises his gun.
I hold up both hands “Don’t. They will guard the community with my will.”
Guido is speechless. Rudy looks ready to help me if need be.
“Chickie, chickie, chicka. I knew I liked yew.” I’ve never seen him grin so wide—it’s disheartening. His eyes are bright and happy, making me sick, but his look changes. Something skulks beneath his surface as he stares at me. The change happens so quickly it disturbs me a bit.
I try not to let it bother me. “Well, they don’t really have to eat. As you know.” I wave to the zombies. “They will follow us.”
Glancing at Rudy, he is almost as revolted as I am. “I really don’t know how long they will last, and I don’t know how many there are. I’ve been collecting them for weeks.”
Guido’s eyes flash. “Say whut? Yew been doin’ this without my knowledge? Fo weeks?”
I get defensive, “Listen asshole, you would have shot them, and we wouldn’t have them now!”
He grabs my arm, jerking me to him.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Get your hands off me or you’ll have zombies eating you alive in five seconds.”
He ignores my demand. “I wouldna have shot ‘em if yew told me whut yew do,” he says in my ear, his breath smells like cigar smoke. A huge hand wraps around his throat. Rudy.
“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Her. Again. Don’t ever treat her like she’s one of your whores,” Rudy spits at him. His tone is deep and his glare calls for no less than murder if Guido disagrees. Guns cock, of what can only be Jocko and the other lackey. Rudy is just as quick. He already has a gun cocked to Guido’s temple.
I make a quick assessment, goading the zombies into action. They go for the lackeys. Gunshots and shouts ensue. They might be able to hold off one or two but not all of them.
“Aw ‘ight. Call dim dead ‘ems off ‘em!” Guido lets go of my arm. Rudy disengages his gun and pushes Guido, none too gently, away from me by his neck. The zombies stop and turn to peer at me. Guido rubs his neck, glowering at me. The lackeys chests heave as they watch the famished with fear. Tension hangs in the silent air.
Guido takes in all the famished and is the first to speak. “Dim some creepy motha fucka’s.” He looks at all of them in turn, pointing to a female. “Dat one go to tha Clap Trap. Jocko, get Peaches to fix ‘er up.” Straightening his clothes, he starts walking as if nothing happened. I screw my face up in revulsion. What a vile bastard, but the control I feel in the moment overplays any disg
ust for the time being. I know I can do anything. I no longer have doubts about completing my mission, but I don’t know if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
*
When I wake, Gwen speaks. “Quite a riot out there this morning.”
“What?” I ask, my voice still thick with sleep, but I’m instantly alert.
“The guys are trying to quiet everyone down. I guess some people think having the forsaken protect them is ludicrous.” She brings the cup to her lips. “I imagine they are right.”
“It’s not forever. I don’t see what the big deal is. They put famished on mechanical bulls and use them for dart boards.”
“I know that, but they don’t see it that way. They think it’s like the base. A scare tactic for control.”
I hadn’t thought of it that way. “Shit, I better get out there.” I hope everyone will take it as is. I dress quick without knowing what I put on and go down to the courtyard.
When people see me, dead silence. Mac sags in relief, running over to me. “We are getting them to accept it, but I think you need to show your zombie magic.”
Zombies stop milling around to watch me from outside the fence. I point to them, and everyone turns to watch. The zombies lower to the ground, stretching their bodies out on the ground. Gasps and whispers float through the courtyard.
“I want everyone to live like before. I want you to have your own house. Drive your own car to go to work. Go to the grocery store. I want your children to get an education. This is for your safety, please, our time is coming. This is a bump in the road.” I hate to bring up such things, but hope blooms on faces. Something I’ve never seen here before. It’s such a change, the tension in the air lessens with the morale boost.
Guido watches me make my empty speech. I can see on his face he does not want what I want, and I’m going to have to keep an eye on him. “I need your cooperation and patience for the answers, because I don’t have them yet.” I swallow. Everyone glances around and whispers among them break out. For now.
“I don’t think Guido likes this much,” I tell Mac and we both watch him pace.
Mac scoffs, “Course he doesn’t. He likes to rule his kingdom. Rudy told me what he did last night. If I was there, he’d be dead.”
“You’re trigger happy. I don’t know how you’re still alive.”
His brow lowers, “Because I’m trigger happy.”
*
Mago and Leila return in less than a week with his own team. They are coming with us to Montana, and all we need is to hear word from Kale. Gwen suspects people will be coming back with him.
We have a route mapped out. The worst part of this whole mission is we don’t know the layout of the compound. Mago says it’s probably ten times the size of the base we already broke into. The only thing to do now is wait. Wait, wait, wait.
*
My dad sat at his desk, tinkering with some gadget, but this was nothing new for him.
“What’s that?” I leaned against his desk.
“A stopwatch. It stopped working and I’m going to see if I can fix it.” I watched him play with the insides. Although, it was more my curiosity with his fascination.
That was the day he taught me how one works. He always had an interest for things like that, but I think it’ll help me now.
I burst through the door. Sawdust covers every surface of the room. Reece wears a dust mask and looks at me like I shouldn’t be in here. He holds a tube in his hand, and it’s full of the sawdust. I shouldn’t, but what I have to show him might help us tremendously.
Throwing me a mask, he says, “If you’re going to be in here, I’m putting you to work.”
I grin and hold up the digital watch in my hand. “I think we can triple the power. We’ll need to make a loot trip for more.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
A week and a half later, Rudy and I laugh at one of my sketches of him when the door opens. He sighs. “Do people think your loft has an open door policy?”
Gwen stands there with a young blonde woman. “Sorry to interrupt, but Kale is back, and I want to introduce you to everyone,” she says. I sit up from my lounge on the bed.
Blondie smiles. At Rudy, but drops her smile when she notices my scowl. I suppress the urge to roll my eyes as he fights off a pleased grin. “Okay, Gwen.”
Mac rushes through the door in long strides. It’s the first I’ve seen of him in days. Blondie turns and sees him. “Hello, Mac.”
He scoffs at her, “Sure.”
“I’m Kan,” I say and hold out my hand.
“I know.”
I glance to Gwen. “This is Madison, Maddie. She’s from our old neighborhood in Chattanooga.”
Mac speaks to Maddie. “What are you doing here? Should have stayed there.”
She flips her natural highlights behind her shoulder, “I was getting bored. You don’t get to have all the adventure.” She half shrugs, “Besides, Gwen wasn’t there to tell me no.”
Gwen shakes her head. “Go get them. I’ll make tea,” she says to Maddie.
Eventually our team and the team from Arizona trickle in. Gwen makes introductions. She introduces the team plus, Julie, Mago, and Leila. They take in Mago with interest. Of course, they’ve already met Mac and Kale. Then she gets to the others. She tells our team about Maddie, who peeks at Rudy in a way that makes me want to scratch out her eyes, but he’s oblivious to it.
One man, Nastas, is tall, of some native descent, with reddish brown skin and straight, salt and pepper hair. His face is aged with wisdom. Gwen says he is excellent in healing. That we’ll probably need. Mac should be relieved to have help in that area.
Sander is shorter than Nastas, with jet black hair and big brown eyes that remind me of Malachi’s. He’s alert, taking in every nook and cranny.
Another woman introduces herself as Nita. She’s frail with white hair. I don’t like judging books by their cover, but how is she going to help us with survivors? She grins. “I’m tougher than I look. I was a therapist, and we figured the survivors could use some extra support on the trips back, instead of waiting.”
I smile and nod, “Good idea.”
They all shake my hand and appraise me. I shoot Kale a look. What has he told them about me? “Nice to meet you all. We’re planning to leave the night you got here.” That would be tonight. Everyone starts speaking in pleasantries at once and shaking hands.
Sander’s gaze moves to my hips. “You need to eat some cookies, mamacita.” He raises his head, his eyes widen at whatever he sees. Rudy stands from his perch on the end of the bed and introduces himself. Sander says something in Spanish, and I catch the words huevos and grande. Rudy’s eyebrows shoot upward. Nastas calls out a warning in Spanish and Sander laughs, clapping his hands, “Back to business.”
Nastas casts a curious glance at me. “I’ve never seen anything like the forsaken outside.”
“I have.” I glance at Mago, whose face is empty. Turning to Nastas, I continue, “You’ll see more of it. I assure you.”
Sander gets right to business in his thick, Hispanic accent—his earlier impudence gone in a snap. “We all drove a vehicle. It’ll be tight, but we can fit up to eight people in each, and we have one bus.”
“A bus? What about gasoline?” This is from Reece.
Sander gets to this one, too, “Got it covered, seńor bald man. We’ve mapped out routes for hidden resources.” He pulls out a map, laying it flat on the table.
I sigh. All the planning we arranged, wasted. We retrace our maps and strategize looting for everything else on the trip there.
By the time everything pans out, we’re starving. We slice up raw veggies and fruit platters. Nastas offers fresh deer jerky to everyone’s delight. They chat about this and that in a bumble of noise.
Rudy leans over. “Mission possible, or impossible?”
I smile, “I think we’ll be okay.”
Mac interrupts, “She’s right, Rudy man.”
“You know we wil
l be gone for a while,” I tell Mac with a serious expression. “What if the Coalition finds out you’re gone?”
He grins. “Nothing to worry about, Sunshine.” I balk at his lack of concern and narrow my eyes at him in suspicion. Mac sighs, glancing between Rudy and me. “Leave it be, will you?” He spins away from us as Rudy and I eye each other with trepidation at Mac’s behavior.
Soon everyone starts to disperse, preparing to travel. We hope to hit the first spot by midnight, where everyone can gas up and set up camp. I help Gwen and Mac clean up and pack some things that’ll be easy to travel with. Mac looks at the stuff his mom is packing, scratching his head. “You don’t need all that shit, Ma.”
The door opens and Jocko appears. Mac tenses. “What?” he snaps.
“Guido wants ta speak wit yew, urgently.” He turns and leaves right away.
I scoff. “Rude. He could have knocked.”
Mac shakes his head. “Be right back.”
After he’s gone, Gwen and I exchange looks. I shrug and continue to dump out my pack to clean it out. I fold the clean clothes Gwen and I washed a few days ago, shoving them into the bottom of the bag. Stuffing in my old boots, extra granola bars, ammunition, my notebook, sketchpad, and plenty of writing utensils, I decide to toss in the useless laptop.
I’m wondering if I can grab a shower when Mac storms into the loft with a bag over his shoulder, Reece and Rudy in tow. “—faster than a car. I’ll be back here by morning and can catch up to you at the first spot by the time you leave,” he finishes, giving me enough to suspect what’s going on.