BOOK TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
The old man glanced up when Windows and Cindy entered his quarters. “I’m glad to see you. I was getting worried.”
Windows forced a pleasant attitude. “I’m sorry I missed breakfast.”
“That’s not what I meant. When you didn’t show up, I thought something bad had happened to you.”
This time, the smile was genuine. “Thanks. You’re the only one around here who cares.”
Cindy scurried into the corner and curled into a ball, hiding in the shadows. Windows knelt beside the old man and began feeding him.
After swallowing the second mouthful, he asked, “What happened this morning?”
“Nothing much.”
The old man held up a crippled hand and placed it on her forearm, preventing her from continuing. “Please tell me.”
Windows sighed. “Three guys tried to assault me and Cindy, but Meat broke it up. He killed one of them and threw boiling water on another.”
“What about the third?”
“I kicked him in the nuts.”
The old man laughed and spit out his food. Windows used the spoon to scoop the excess off of his chin.
“Sorry.” He snorted. “Good girl, though.”
“Thanks. It could have been worse. Price showed up and put an end to it.”
The old man’s humor evaporated. “Don’t trust him.”
“I don’t.”
“I’m serious. Price is dangerous. He didn’t get to lead this group of murderers by winning a popularity contest.”
“I know that.”
“I don’t think you do.” The old man’s eyes pleaded for her to listen. “Has anyone told you about Price?”
Windows shook her head.
“Price was an inmate at the state prison down in Concord when the outbreak began. He had a history of violent assault, and had even hospitalized several people. The kid had been in and out of jail several times. One night he came home to find another man in bed with his wife. He threw the guy out a second-story window, paralyzing him, and beat his wife so badly she went into a coma and died three months later. The courts sentenced him to ten years for manslaughter. He had served half that when the dead began to rise. Unfortunately, prison made him even more violent. When the virus reached New England, he orchestrated a riot. Most of the prisoners used the chance to escape, but Price, Carter, Kingston, and several others stayed behind to get revenge on the guards.”
“You mean they murdered them?”
“That would have been humane. They beat the guards and warden senseless, then dragged them outside and handcuffed them to the perimeter fence so the dead could get them. After cleaning out the prison armory, they made their way north, causing as much destruction as the outbreak. They kidnapped families and forced the husbands to watch their wives and kids be molested and murdered before being tied up and left for the deaders. Others were killed just for the fun of it. When they ran across people like themselves, they were given the opportunity to join the group under Price’s leadership or were gunned down.”
“Didn’t the police try to stop them?”
“By then all the police had been overwhelmed by the living dead. Price’s gang executed the few police or stray military units they came across. They eventually found this place and turned it into an armed camp. Unfortunately, a lot of innocent people also stumbled across it and sought shelter. Price allowed them in and let them think they had found a safe haven, lulling them into a false sense of security until it was too late. He ordered the men shot or put on the Line, and allowed his gang to do whatever they wanted to the women and children. The lucky ones were kept inside to serve as camp followers. The rest joined the others outside.”
Windows shivered, recalling her first two days.
The old man nodded. “Then you know what I’m talking about. You experienced the same thing?”
“Pretty much. The day I arrived, Price made sure no one touched me and assured me everything would be fine.”
“And on the second day you were gang raped.”
“But not before being taken hunting and used as bait to lure rotters.”
“How do you get here?”
“They raided the compound where I lived, killed everyone, and torched the place. I survived because Meat took a liking to me.”
“Lucky you,” the old man said sarcastically. “But that’s typical. From what I hear, they’ve raided up to half a dozen places where people have been holed up, and slaughtered everyone. I doubt there’s anyone left alive within a twenty-mile radius.”
“I guess it was just bad luck that Price decided to settle down here.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it. He came here purposefully.”
“Why?”
The old man’s eyes locked on her. “No one told you?”
“Told me what?”
“Who I am.”
“No.”
The old man broke eye contact and averted his gaze. “I’m Price’s father.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Windows could only stare at the old man for several seconds, dumbstruck. “Price is your son?”
The old man nodded. “My name is Lee. And I know what you’re thinking. What type of asshole am I to raise a son like that?”
“Not at all,” she responded much too quickly.
“I don’t blame you for thinking that way. In most cases it’s true. God knows I wasn’t the best father. I never hit him, and I tried to raise him right. His mother loved him, too. If anything, she was overprotective. He was a good kid until he reached high school, and then the fighting and bullying started. We tried to discipline him, but it never worked. The harder we tried, the more violent he became. Some kids are just bad, I guess.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
Lee glanced up and mouthed “Thank you.”
“So why did Price come back?”
“To check on Judith, his mother. Despite the way he treated her, he really loved her.”
“What happened?”
“I killed my wife about a week into the apocalypse. She….” Lee paused, overwhelmed by grief. His face grimaced and tears welled up in his eyes. After a minute, he regained control. “Sorry about that.”
“That’s okay.” Windows held his hand and didn’t let go. “You don’t have to go on.”
“I do.” Lee sniffed and wiped snot from his nose. “We had planned on heading north. I had gone to fill up the H3 while Judith went to the grocery store to stock up. When I got back, I found her sitting in the living room crying, with a huge bite mark on her arm. Someone in the store had turned and attacked Judith and several others. I stayed with her and comforted her until the end, and then used a shotgun to put her out of her misery. After that, I stayed just to be with her.”
“Is that why your hands are broken? Did Price punish you for killing his mother?”
“No. While I don’t think he ever forgave me it, he knew it had to be done, and would have shot her himself to prevent her from becoming one of those things.” Lee held up his hands. “He did this because I challenged him. About two weeks after he set up camp here, he came up with the idea of the Line after one raid that netted him a lot of prisoners. He called a meeting to discuss implementing the plan. Afterwards, four of his people got together and decided to stage a coup. I don’t know, maybe they thought the idea inhumane. Maybe they thought he had become uncontrollable. Maybe they thought they’d wind up on it someday. For whatever reason, they came up with a plan to kill off Price and Carter, and lead the group themselves. After that, they intended to look for more comfortable accommodations.”
“How did you fit in?”
“They asked me if I would be a part of the plot to lend it legitimacy. I said no. I couldn’t be involved in killing my own son, no matter what he had become.”
“But you never warned him.”
Once again, Lee averted his gaze. “No. Although I couldn’t pull the trigger, I
wanted to see him dead for what he had done to all those innocent people. Instead, I chickened out and made things worse.”
“What happened?”
“One of the conspirators, a little prick named Ross, went and told Price what the others planned. He figured by betraying his friends, he would get himself in good with my son. Dumb bastard had no idea who he was dealing with. Price beat the three other conspirators half to death. He then held a public meeting, gave the typical speech about how everything he did was to keep the group safe, and used them as examples of what would happen to the others if they disobeyed. Because Ross considered conspiring against him, Price made him the first person on the Line. Gave him just enough food and water to keep him alive. It took nearly six weeks before Ross died of exposure. When his point had been made, he had Carter drive the other three into Barnston and leave them in the center of town.”
“And you?”
“Because I hadn’t warned Price about the plot, I had to be punished. Since I was his father, he wouldn’t kill me or put me on the Line. He broke my hands so I wouldn’t be able to hurt him, and then isolated me in where I couldn’t cause trouble.” Lee shrugged. “I guess I got off lucky.”
Windows stroked the old man’s hair. “It’s okay now. I’m here to take care of you.”
“You may not be for long.”
She stopped in mid-stroke. “Why do you say that?”
“Price eliminates anyone who is a threat to him or causes him trouble.”
“How am I a threat?”
“You’re not. You are trouble, though. He lost two of his men today because of you, and he won’t forget that.”
Windows lowered her hand. “What am I going to do?”
“There’s nothing you can do. If you get a chance to go off the compound, take it and run. At least that way you have a chance of escape.”
“What about her?”
Lee glanced over his shoulder at Cindy and sighed. “Be careful and keep your eyes open.”
“I will. And thanks.”
“Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything to help you, only make you nervous.”
Windows went back to feeding Lee. By trying to protect her, he had made her more paranoid than before. She knew Price would be trying to find a way to get rid of her, and probably Cindy as well. Rather than sit here complacent until the end, at least now she had a fighting chance. All she had to do was figure a way for her and Cindy to escape.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The Angels gathered on the stern of the yacht to pay their final respects to Bethany. Emily and Ari stood below them on the transom’s boarding platform, with the body of the young woman between them. They had placed Bethany in a funerary pose, wrapped the body in a blanket, and secured it with rope. To weigh the body down, they placed two twenty-pound barbells they had found in one of the closets inside the blanket.
Natalie moved closer to the boarding platform. “Dear Lord, we are about to commit our friend and comrade to the sea. Please take her in your loving arms and watch over her, and give her the peace and comfort she has rightfully earned. In your name we pray. Amen.”
Natalie closed her eyes and nodded. Crouching down, Emily and Ari each grabbed one end of the burial shroud and lifted Bethany off the boarding platform. With as much respect and gentleness as possible, they tossed the body over the side and watched it disappear beneath the surface.
While Emily and Ari climbed back up to the main deck, Josephine looked at the others. “Shouldn’t we say something?”
“Natalie just did,” said Sandy.
“I mean a eulogy of some sort.”
“What purpose would it serve?” Tiara asked.
“I don’t know,” said Josephine. “I just thought we should say something that would make her death have some meaning.”
Natalie separated herself from the group and turned to face them. “You want Bethany’s death to have meaning? Then use her as an example. Bethany is dead because she couldn’t handle the pressure and got sloppy.”
The Angels stared at her incredulously.
“We’ve all become sloppy. Ever since we left Site R, we’ve barely functioned as a cohesive unit. When we returned via Portland, most of you didn’t even get off the bus to set up a perimeter. Bethany got bit because we got careless and let that rotter slip by us. If we don’t shape up soon, we’re all going to wind up like her.”
“To be fair,” argued Ari, “we were never trained to handle what happened at Site R.”
“I have news for you.” Natalie moved closer to the group. Several of them stepped back. Good, she thought. They’re afraid of me. Maybe what I have to say will sink in. “What we encountered at Site R is what this world is really like now. We fooled ourselves into believing we could handle it because we made a few supply runs to isolated stores where rotter activity was minimal. If we couldn’t deal with what we ran into in Pennsylvania, what do you think is going to happen on the way to Omaha?”
“Most of this trip is by water.” Even Emily seemed intimidated.
“The last part isn’t. We’re going to have to sail through New Orleans, navigate the Mississippi, and travel cross country to reach our destination. Are you ready for that?” Natalie faced the others. “Are any of you? Shit, we almost got our asses handed to us back at the Coast Guard cutter.”
“So what do you recommend?” asked Ari.
“That we put our heads on straight and get back in the game.” Natalie pointed toward the main cabin. “Remember, our whole reason for doing this is to take the vaccine to Omaha so the government can mass produce it, and maybe start taking this country back from the living dead. I’m not exaggerating when I say we may well be the last hope of humanity. But we’re never going to make it unless we get our shit together. And if we don’t make it, then Bethany, Leila, everyone who died at or on the way to Site R, and everyone slaughtered back at camp, will have died for nothing.”
Without saying another word, Natalie stormed off and headed back to her cabin, letting her Angels take in what she had just said. In reality, she didn’t know where to go from there. A pep talk was a poor substitute for action. She had yet to figure out a way to restore the Angels’ shattered morale and make them a cohesive fighting unit again. And she only had a few days to figure it out.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Robson stood on the Casco Bay Bridge, staring down the span until it disappeared into the darkness of Portland. Dravko and Tibor stood to his left, Simmons and DeWitt to his right.
“We’re clear on this?” asked Robson. “Dravko, Tibor, and I go in and get the school bus. You guys wait here and come after us if we get in trouble.”
“It sounds risky,” Simmons replied. “Wouldn’t it be easier to find another school bus?”
Robson shook his head. “We’d chew up a lot of time and gas trying to locate one. And good luck finding one that runs. We know this one works.”
“What about the dead?” asked Simmons.
“They’re locked up behind fences and won’t be a problem. We’ll be in and out in ten minutes.” Robson tapped the radio attached to his belt. “If we get into trouble, help is only a phone call away.” He gave a final look to the others. “Ready?”
Simmons nodded. “I guess. I’m just glad I’m not the crazy one driving into a dead-infested city. Good luck.”
As Simmons and DeWitt joined the rest of the group, Robson and the vampires walked over to their specially-prepared Humvee. Tibor climbed in behind the wheel and Dravko took the passenger seat.
Robson got in back and closed the door. “Let’s do this.”
Tibor headed into downtown Portland.
They had driven five hundred yards when Robson noticed something wrong. On the northern approach of the bridge, they passed a rotter in a blood-stained jogging suit shambling aimlessly. At first Robson paid no attention. Then they passed a second and third. He leaned forward between the front seats.
“We’ve got a problem.”
Dravko turned his attention over his shoulder. “Why do you say that?”
Robson pointed to the fourth rotter they passed, a woman in a tattered sundress. “The streets were empty last time we came through here.”
“Maybe they came across the bridge after we destroyed the barricade.”
Tibor pointed ahead of him. “Or maybe they came from downtown.”
As they neared the end of the ramp, the headlights shone on hundreds of the living dead milling around Commerce Street.
“What the fuck?” Dravko asked.
Robson shrugged. “The chain link fence must have collapsed.”
Upon hearing the approaching vehicle, the living dead turned in the direction of the noise and surged forward.
Tibor slowed the Humvee. “Should we go back?
“No,” Robson responded. “There aren’t too many.”
Tibor glared at him. “One is enough. Remember, we’re not immune to them.”
“Don’t worry. We can make it.”
Tibor glanced over at Dravko, who nodded toward downtown. Tibor grunted and pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The Humvee plowed into the first rotter, bursting its midsection and sending the body cartwheeling to one side.
“Careful,” Dravko admonished.
“I know what I’m doing.” Tibor swerved around another of the living dead, clipping it with the rear fender.
The farther they got into downtown Portland, the heavier the rotters became. With each passing minute, the living dead closed in tighter around the Humvee to the point that Tibor couldn’t maneuver around them. Each time he slammed into one of them, it slowed their speed. At this rate, they would be swarmed within a minute. Maybe Robson had miscalculated this one.
Dravko pointed ahead of them. “There it is.”
The Humvee’s headlights reflected off of the rear of the school bus. Off to its right, one section of the chain link fence had collapsed, probably right after he had used the bus as a decoy to lure the living dead away from the ferry terminal so the Angels could escape. A few dozen rotters mingled around on the other side of the fence. Another score wandered around the vehicle. They turned at the approach of the Humvee and headed toward it.
Rotter World (Book 2): Rotter Nation Page 17