“I know what you mean. We lost our parents, too.”
“Zombies got ‘em?” he asked, looking up at her with big, sad eyes.
“Fortunately, no.” It comforted her to know their deaths had been swift and painless. “They died in a bad car accident when we were kids. Our grandmother raised us.”
Mark stared at the floor. “Do you ever stop missing them?” he whispered.
Haven thought about it for a moment. Shaking her head, she answered, “No. You never stop missing them. Not a day goes by where I wouldn’t give my right arm to be able to talk to them. It makes me regret every time I acted up and gave them a hard time.”
“I know.” Mark quickly wiped away a tear.
Already trying to be a man. Mark had been forced to grow up so quickly.
Haven longed for him to just be able to be a kid and live a normal life.
“I used to get really mad at her for being with her stupid boyfriend. I wish I wouldn’t have been so mean though.”
Haven leaned forward and ruffled his hair, something all of them enjoyed doing because it got an adorable reaction from him, where he’d swat their hands away, trying to hide a smile. “I bet you were an awesome son. You were just looking out for her. She knew that.”
“I shouldn’t have gone to the movies that day. I should’ve been home to protect them. He almost ate me. I should have killed him. I should have.” His young face was twisted in torment. “Do you think my mom and sister are alive?” he asked after several minutes had passed. It was the question he had dreaded asking.
And it was the answer she’d dreaded giving.
Haven felt a vice-like grip clench around her heart. She wanted to say yes so badly. She wanted to tell him that his sister and mother were safe somewhere, part of a fortified community. She wanted to tell him that because she so desperately needed it to be the case for him.
“I hope so, buddy. I really do. I’m sure they found somewhere safe and are missing you just as much as you miss them,” she said finally, trying her hardest to sound confident in her response.
Even if his family was gone, Mark had a new family now, and all three of them would give their lives to protect him.
“Hey, so tell me about those comics you were reading,” she offered, hoping a topic change would lift his spirits.
It worked. Mark’s face lit up like a firefly.
“I love X-Men. I already read most of them, but it’s cool. I don’t mind.”
“You know,” Haven started, “I used to watch the X-Men animated series with Brett and Faith. That and the Batman one, too. Maybe that was before your time, but someday, I’ll find the whole series for you. You’re seriously missing out if you haven’t seen them.”
“Alex and I used to watch the X-Men and Batman movies. ‘I am Batman!’” he said in his best Michael Keaton voice.
“Oh, he was a good Batman. I liked Christian Bale, too. But he was a different kind of Batman. Darker.”
“Yeah, that’s true. I liked other Batmans better.”
She chuckled. “Well, you’re entitled to your opinion. But it’s wrong.” She winked at him. “Heath Ledger’s Joker will always be my favorite though.”
“Didn’t he die in real life?”
“The actor did, yeah.”
“That’s too bad,” the boy remarked, starting to look sad again. “I remember my mom talking about it with her boyfriend, when he died. It was on the news and stuff.”
“Oh!” Haven jumped as if she remembered something. She reached under her bed and pulled out a dark object, but quickly concealed it behind her back mischievously. His interest piqued, Mark shifted and tried to look behind her.
“What is it?” he pressed curiously.
“I was saving this for Houston, but I figure we can share it now, and I’ll get him one later.” She held out a Snickers bar.
His eyes widened, and he took it from her outstretched hand eagerly. “Wow!”
He peeled off the wrapper and bit off a big chunk of the bar before handing it back to her. Haven took a hearty bite, too.
Chocolate would always be her weakness. She closed her eyes briefly as she savored the sugary goodness. Even a half-melted-to-the-wrapper, slightly stale Snickers bar was heaven-sent and delicious.
“So tell me more about this comic book you’re reading...”
They spent the next couple of hours discussing comic books, television shows, and action movies. Haven, whose cinematic interests more closely mirrored Brett and Houston’s than her sister’s, had no problem keeping up.
When Mark finally dozed off, Haven tenderly put a pillow under his head and tucked her bedspread around him.
She peeked out the window of the train. The moon was still high in the sky, its luminescent beams reflecting off the snow-covered branches. She leaned over until she could see below her window. It was far enough from the ground that even if the zombies reached up, their fingertips would barely graze the bottom of the window, making it impossible for them to get in. It was odd to feel so safe, free from the grasping clutches of the ravenous monsters.
Sighing contentedly, Haven pulled out her book again and settled back into the bunk beside Mark.
She hadn’t read a book for fun in months. An avid reader, Haven always preferred snuggling up with a good book to hitting up the bars and clubs with her friends. As kids, her grandmother used to read them a bedtime story every night. Haven was always the last one awake, and when Rosemary would place the bookmark between the pages, Haven would beg for just one more chapter.
Another hour passed, but she barely noticed, completely engrossed in her book. It wasn’t until later that Haven finally nodded off into a deep slumber.
Shadows shifted under the door of her cabin, causing light from the hallway to flicker in unevenly. There was the faintest sound of metal scratching against metal.
Haven’s eyelids fluttered for just a moment. She could feel Mark beside her, could hear his steady breathing. She sighed softly and wrapped her arms around him, sleep overtaking her once again.
The floor creaked, and this time, Haven stiffened and leaned forward slightly, wondering if Mark had gotten out of bed and was walking around the cabin. But he was still next to her.
She looked about drowsily, seeing nothing.
But her mind sensed something her eyes did not.
At the foot of the bed, the darkness of the room outlined yet another darkness.
And that darkness was alive; she could feel it. She tilted her head a bit, unease growing in her belly.
The darkness moved, swaying slightly.
It was watching her.
She strained her eyes to focus, but it was so impossibly dark.
Then it moved suddenly and was on top of her. She was able to get out one short scream just as rough hands clamped over her mouth, silencing her.
She knew who it was before she could see him, before the moon escaped from behind the clouds to reveal his identity.
Cade ripped her from the bed and painfully twisted her arm behind her, forcing her backward against the wall.
She struggled with her other hand to claw him, but he ignored her as her fingernails raked his skin.
Refusing to give up, Haven tried to open her jaws enough to bite him, but his hand was so large that it covered half of her face.
With an angry protest, she thrust her knee up toward his groin, but he had anticipated this and kept his legs between hers.
Her eyes were wild, and she frantically looked about the room for her weapons, but the moonlight was fleeting, and she was once again catapulted into absolute darkness.
“Haven?” asked a sleepy voice from the bed.
Mark.
Snapping her head to the side, she inhaled a frantic breath. “Run!” she cried out, terrified for the boy and what Cade could do to him.
With all of her strength, she swung her free hand upward and bent her thumb in so that it caught on the outer corner of his eye socket. She tried to tug on
it, but Cade yelled and punched her hard on the cheek.
She collapsed to the floor, reeling from the pain.
The room seemed to spin, and dots began to cloud her vision.
No. She couldn’t pass out. She had to protect Mark.
She rushed forward on her hands and knees and grabbed Cade around the legs. Then she opened her mouth wide and sank her teeth into his calf, shaking her head ferociously back and forth.
Cade roared from the pain and kicked her away, and that’s when Haven started to scream.
He scrambled back to her with lightning-fast speed and slammed her head into the hard floor repeatedly.
“You fucking whore!” he bellowed.
Her nose bleeding profusely, she struggled to raise her shoulders off the floor.
He leaned down and looked her over. “You know, it’s a real shame what happened—”
Light footsteps behind him caused him to whirl around. Just as Mark lifted his pocket knife into the air, Cade grabbed his wrist.
“Not fast enough,” Cade whispered to the boy.
He easily wrested the knife from the Mark’s grasp and roughly shoved his elbow into the boy’s stomach. Mark fell to the ground, crumpled in a little heap as he gasped for air. Haven tried to crawl to him, but Cade violently jerked her away.
Chuckling, Cade wiped his forehead and licked his lips. “Where was I?” He looked around, feigning perplexity. Flipping Mark’s knife in his hand, he grinned down at her malevolently. “I think I’ll play with you a little. Like I did with your pathetic—”
The door swung open.
Kennedy and Johnny B. rushed in, guns raised. Both of their eyes went wide at the scene.
“Drop the weapon!” Kennedy screamed.
Johnny B. kept his gun trained on Cade while rushing over to Mark, reaching down to check the boy. His mouth curled into an enraged scowl as he rose to his feet. “Let me kill him.”
Cade’s jaw tightened, and he looked up to the ceiling. Finally, he sighed and dropped the knife.
Houston and Brett burst into the room. “We heard yelling. What the hell is going on—”
Their expressions turned from concern to horror when they saw Haven and Mark sprawled out on the floor.
Houston ran over to Haven and pulled her to him. She weakly clutched his arms.
“I’ll be okay. Check on Mark,” she managed hoarsely, pointing a bloody finger in his direction.
Houston got up and suddenly snatched his gun out of his waistband, charging Cade. “You fucking bastard!” he growled.
“You don’t have the balls,” Cade taunted.
“Where the fuck did he get that?” Johnny B. asked Kennedy, motioning to the gun in Houston’s hand.
“Houston,” Kennedy ordered, her voice strong and steady. “Put it down.”
“Fuck that.” His body shook with rage. “He dies here and now.” Houston didn’t take his finger off the trigger.
Cade sneered at him. “Next time I won’t stop there.”
Houston’s finger twitched. All he had to do was pull. Just squeeze his trigger finger ever so slightly, and Cade Foster’s brains would be splattered on the wall. He could do what he should have done when he had the chance.
“Houston,” Kennedy repeated. “I’m not asking. You have every right to be pissed, but killing him won’t make it any better.” Johnny B. still had his gun aimed at Cade, and she shifted hers to Houston. “I promise you I’ll make him pay for what he did. He won’t go unpunished. But I won’t say it again. Put. It. Down.”
Every muscle in Houston’s body was tense. He stood in front of Haven protectively, blocking her from their view.
“Houston,” Haven whimpered. “Do what she says. Please,” she pleaded softly.
“That’s right,” Cade laughed. “Do what the little bitch tells you.”
Squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to block out Cade’s words, Houston lowered his weapon.
Kneeling right beside Cade, he whispered, “You’d better hope I never see you again. Because if I do, I’m going to use your own knife on you, and you don’t even want to know what kinds of sick things I’m capable of doing.”
At Kennedy’s direction, Johnny B. stepped between them and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his belt. Cuffing Cade, he wrenched him away from Houston.
“Don’t worry, Haven,” Cade called out. “We’ll finish our little chat later. I still want to tell you what happened—”
Without warning, Kennedy pistol-whipped him, rendering him unconscious. Haven murmured for her to wait, to let him finish speaking.
Something he’d alluded to made her stomach turn. But Kennedy didn’t hear her, and Haven leaned back and closed her eyes, fighting the lure of unconsciousness.
“I’ll take care of this,” Kennedy promised. “And I’ll send Vetta to tend to her.” She put a hand on Houston’s shoulder, but he moved as if she had scalded him, and her hand slipped off.
Johnny B. took one last look at Mark and Haven and shook his head angrily, cursing under his breath. He turned to Houston, nodding in understanding. “I’ll make sure that asshole gets what’s comin’ to him,” Johnny B. said before dragging Cade’s motionless form out of the room.
Houston moved silently from car to car, following the drops of blood speckled along the floor. He didn’t give a damn what Kennedy wanted; he was going to kill Cade Foster.
This part of the train seemed nearly abandoned, and he wondered if he had reached the last car on the train.
It was quiet and dark, and a padlock hung loosely on a chain from the sliding door. There were storages of food and clothes in cardboard boxes piled on either side of the car.
He heard noises up ahead, periodic thuds, as though someone was pounding wet meat with a mallet.
His hands clutching his firearm shook; he had never killed anyone before, never anyone alive anyways.
Trying to steady his breathing and calm himself, Houston stared at the weapon in his grasp.
Would he be able to pull the trigger?
Would he have second thoughts?
Would he carry the guilt with him for the rest of his life?
What if he had to shoot the other person with Cade? Surely the monster wouldn’t be alone.
It didn’t matter. He had to do it.
Looking up, he saw movement in the reflection of the windows across from him. He peered closer. Johnny B.’s giant frame was unmistakable.
He was straddling Cade’s barely moving body, his gloved knuckles slick with blood, thin crimson rivulets trailing down the leather onto the floor. Blow after blow, Houston wondered if Cade was even conscious anymore. He lowered his gun to his side, his finger slipping from the trigger.
Taking a few steps forward toward the doorway of the small cabin, he cleared his throat, no longer trying to conceal his presence.
Johnny B. noticed him and slowly stood.
“I don’t pretend to be a fucking saint,” he said to Houston. Then he turned to address Cade. “But I have a code, asshole. If there’s one thing I can’t forgive it’s pussies like you who get their rocks off beating up women and children.” He glanced at the gun in Houston’s hand. “You want to step in?”
Without needing encouragement, Houston holstered his gun and took Johnny B.’s place on top of Cade. He reared his hand back and grunted as it collided with Cade’s jaw.
“Enough!”
Both men jumped and spun around. Kennedy and Grady stood in the doorway.
Houston wiped Cade’s blood on his pants. “This isn’t your fight,” he said, pointing at Kennedy sternly.
She scowled at him. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Houston recoiled slightly, surprised at the venom in her tone.
“You and your people come onto my train, cause problems, and have the balls to tell me how to handle things?” Kennedy took one look at Cade and glowered at Johnny B. “And you. You deliberately disobeyed my orders.” Then she turned back to Houston. “Do you want to
join him and get off this train? Is that what you want?” she spat. “There has to be order. People can’t just take whatever type of revenge they want when something doesn’t go their way—”
“‘Doesn’t go their way?’” Houston repeated incredulously, not caring if he angered her further. “This scumbag just beat the shit out of my girl and a little kid!”
“I know that, and I told you, I’ll handle it.”
Houston took several deep breaths. He knew he wasn’t going to ameliorate the situation by losing his temper. “What are we going to do with him?” Houston asked her as calmly as he could muster.
“We’ll let him off at our next stop.”
Houston shook his head. “That’s not good enough. I want him dead.”
Kennedy threw up her hands. “We can’t just kill him, Houston.”
“Why the fuck not? He was going to kill Haven! Maybe Mark, too.”
She crossed her arms. “Killing Cade makes us just as bad as him. He’s going to stay locked up while he’s on here. He won’t hurt anyone. And once we get to our next stop, he’s gone. No food, no gun. And trust me, in this new world, that’s a lot worse than death.”
His hands shaking with rage, Houston stared at her for a few moments longer. Wordlessly, he pushed past them.
Kennedy gave Johnny B. a withering glance before following Houston.
Johnny B. watched them leave, then shifted his focus to Cade. “I hope you get nice and cozy in here ‘cause we’re gonna get to know each other real well.”
Stewart Glass glanced through the small square window at the prisoner sitting in the holding car.
Cade Foster had a dark expression on his face, steely gray eyes made more piercing from the bruising around them. There was something cruel about him, in the way his lips always seemed to rest in a perpetual sneer.
They’d never had a prisoner on the train before, and Stewart wasn’t sure why he was on guard duty. He figured Kennedy would have enlisted the younger, more able-bodied passengers to do this job. However, Kennedy’s meathead right-hand man told him it was time for him to pull his weight, and since Cade was locked up and non-threatening, Stewart was ordered to stand outside his makeshift cell for ten-hour blocks.
The Good, The Dead & The Lawless (Book 2): The Hell That Follows Page 18