The Oklahoma Wastelands Series Box Set | Books 1-3

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The Oklahoma Wastelands Series Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 50

by Mary, Kate L.


  “Point taken.” Bill paused for a moment before saying, “I think I’ll bring Christine along, too.”

  Despite my irritation at the idea of Ernie joining us, I had to bite back a smile.

  Kellan, as usual, had a one-track mind and didn’t seem to remember the sparks between Bill’s daughter and Blake. “Can you get the sedan moved to the fence?”

  “I’ll get on it and talk to Scott and Ernie,” Bill said, veering away from the shelter and heading for the cars.

  The rest of our group had already disappeared into the shelter, but I grabbed Kellan’s arm before he could follow them. “You know I want to go.”

  “I thought you might.” He gave me a crooked smile, and despite nearly two months of us being together, my heart beat faster. “And I suppose I can’t talk you out of it?”

  “Have you ever been able to?”

  “Nope.” He grabbed my hips and pulled me against him. “I wish you’d listen to reason, though.”

  “There’s no reason for me to stay here, and you know it. Andrew is long gone, and I’m tired of being cooped up.” I looked down at the fresh bite on his arm. “Plus, you’re as vulnerable as I am now. You think anyone is going to see that bite and believe some crazy guy attacked you?”

  I had to push down the anger threating to bubble up when I thought about Ernie pulling a gun on Kellan. Hopefully, Bill was right, and this trip proved that Ernie was in fact a good guy, because right now, he felt more like an enemy.

  Kellan chuckled, his fingers tightening on my hips in a way that made me wish we were heading inside to shower instead of to Altus. “Okay, you’ve got me. You can come.”

  “As if I was asking permission,” I said with a snort.

  His grin widened, deepening his dimple, and he kissed my nose. “Let’s get ready to head out.”

  23

  I was wedged between Bill and Kellan in the cab of the huge yellow truck, the windows rolled down—according to Bill, the air conditioner hadn’t worked in years—allowing the warm Oklahoma air to whip through the cab, bringing dust with it. It was a good thing I had my goggles, because within ten minutes my bare skin was coated in a fine layer of dirt and my mouth tasted like I’d eaten a spoonful of the stuff. Gritty particles crunched between my teeth, and my nostrils tickled, threatening to expel the invading dust with a sneeze.

  At my side, Kellan was a statue of concentration, his own goggles unable to hide the way his eyes swept the landscape. Even though there’d been no sign of Andrew for weeks, Kellan was on the lookout, refusing to relax no matter how slim the chances were that the asshole would pop back up after all this time.

  I glanced over my shoulder and out the back window to the sedan. The glare from the bright afternoon sun made it impossible to see inside, but I knew Ernie was behind the wheel—probably still scowling over the fact that Bill had allowed Kellan to sit in the truck. Scott was in the passenger seat while Blake and Christine had claimed the back seat.

  The last time we were in Altus, Blake was back in the shelter due to the bump on his head. Two months had passed, and it was all healed up now, and like me, he seemed thrilled to be out. Even our little fishing trip hadn’t felt like enough after all that time of being cooped up.

  Unlike Kellan and me, Bill wasn’t wearing goggles, but the grin on his face said he didn’t mind the wind or dust. If anything, he looked as happy to be out as I was. His lips were pursed, whistling a tune that got drowned out by the wind, while he tapped his hand against the steering wheel as we sped down the road, the bright sun shining on us like it was trying to burn us alive.

  There were no signs of life—or death—on the drive to Altus, and we didn’t see a single zombie until we’d reached the first few buildings that signaled the outskirts of the city. A lone decaying man stumbled across the overgrown parking lot of the old movie theater, his pants little more than tattered remains that flapped behind him as he walked.

  As if the sight was new to him, Bill slowed the truck. The happy tune he’d been whistling for most of the drive became audible only seconds before it died away completely. His gaze stayed glued to the zombie as he drove past, watching as the creature began stumbling toward us, drawn by the sound of the truck’s engine. I watched, too, feeling oddly mesmerized by the way his tattered pant legs flapped in the breeze.

  He faded away, left in our dust as we drove further into town and more and more buildings came into view. A few months ago, they’d been little more than crumbling shells, but after the recent influx of bad weather, they looked twice as worn. The parking lot of the old college, now overgrown with waist-high weeds, was littered with debris, and pieces of the roof that had been blown off during a storm lay scattered amidst the greenery. The Wal-Mart, too, had taken more damage and was now barely distinguishable as a building. Every structure we passed was crumbling, and it wouldn’t be long before nature reclaimed the town completely and the people who had once lived, loved, and laughed here were forgotten. Remnants of a past that seemed unreal compared to this terrifying reality we now lived in.

  Bill, who wasn’t from Altus, didn’t seem affected by the sight, and even though Kellan said nothing as he pulled his goggles off and tossed them on the dashboard, I knew the sight of the crumbling town squeezed his heart as much as it did mine. His dark hair was windblown and his face streaked with dust, but he didn’t seem to notice because he was too focused on the houses to our right. Like me, he was probably thinking about our own homes, only a few streets over and no doubt not faring any better than the ones in front of us.

  I slipped my hand into his. “Before long, Altus will be nothing but a memory.”

  “The settlement will still be there,” he said but squeezed my hand to let me know he understood.

  Yes, the small downtown square that had been walled in would still be around, but it wasn’t the same because it didn’t look anything like it had before the virus. The stores and restaurants had long ago been cleaned out and repurposed into living spaces, making that little part of the city unrecognizable despite the fact that the buildings still stood tall and proud.

  Bill said nothing as he turned into the dilapidated parking lot of Atwoods, and behind us the sedan followed. Like everywhere else, the blacktop had cracked and fissured, opening itself to nature, and where once there had been parking spaces, weeds, small trees, and bushes now grew, bright green and flourishing from the recent rain. The building hadn’t withstood the passing of time much better than the others had, but at least the roof was intact. Mostly, anyway. A section had been ripped off a few years ago, meaning the inside of the store wasn’t going to be untouched, but if we were lucky, we’d be able to find a few useful things.

  Bill pulled to a stop in front of the store, and wordlessly we climbed out. I was studying the decrepit building when the thud of a car door shutting bounced off the store’s walls and echoed through the empty parking lot, making me turn.

  “We’re going to need some kind of support beams,” Kellan said as Scott, Ernie, Blake, and Christine walked over to join us, the last two walking hand in hand.

  That was a new development, but not a surprise. Bill had given his blessing, after all, and had even brought his daughter along once he knew Blake was coming, so it made sense. And while Kellan hadn’t asked and Blake hadn’t confirmed it, I’d suspected for weeks that the two were sleeping together, and our fishing outing had pretty much solidified the idea.

  “Are we going to need a blowtorch?” Scott asked.

  “Got one.” Kellan shoved his hand through his hair, which as usual disobeyed him and flopped back over his forehead. “Jasper had everything. I’m not even joking.”

  Bill nodded approvingly. “He sounded like a smart man.”

  “The smartest,” I said.

  Bill and Kellan led the way, and the Oklahoma sun burned down on my scalp as we headed for the store while weeds tickled my legs, a few even managing to poke through the fabric of my pants to prick my skin. I ignored them, though, k
eeping my eyes and ears open. Scott, Ernie, Blake, and Christine walked behind me, as quiet and focused as I was.

  The building’s front door was gone, the glass scattered across the ground and sparkling up at me from between the weeds like stars twinkling in the night sky. They crunched under our boots as we walked, pausing when we stepped into the store so we could look around. The interior was cloaked in shadows and musty, the scent of earth and mildew mixing with other smells, like rot and neglect, to create an aroma that was all too familiar these days. Rays of sunlight made their way into the store where the roof had been torn away, shining down on the useless items below. Bags of animal food, moldy from years of rain and heat, and every other item a person could possibly need to keep a ranch or farm going. Everything was covered in a layer of dirt, and the metal items still sitting on the shelves were dotted with rust. Like everything else, the past nine years had taken a toll on the inventory that hadn’t been scavenged.

  “Back corner,” Ernie said, nodding to the darkest part of the store. “The fence supplies were back there.”

  Before moving any further, Kellan’s gaze moved to me. “Stay alert.”

  At my side, Scott and Ernie stood tall, their weapons out and ready as they looked around. They didn’t move when Kellan started walking, but like me, Blake and Christine—their hands now occupied by weapons—followed. I looked back when footsteps thudded against the floor and found Bill headed after us, and the other two men finally on their way.

  Scott was a tough person to get a read on. While Ernie wasn’t shy about letting everyone know he didn’t care for Kellan’s leadership—in addition to our little encounter outside the fence when he’d been so appreciative of me saving his ass—Scott had been mostly helpful and non-antagonistic since he moved into the shelter. But he and Ernie were entirely too buddy-buddy for my taste, and there had even been times when I got the impression Scott wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of someone as young as Kellan being in a position of authority. Scott was in his thirties, and I’d heard him tell Emma that before the apocalypse he’d been a newlywed and had worked at the hospital as an x-ray technician. Now he lived with a woman named Ellie, who was several years older than he was, and Stephen. He’d created a new family in this new world, but was no doubt still mourning the loss of what he’d had before. We all were.

  Kellan led the way through the dusty store with Blake only a step behind him. The farther in we got, the more Christine hung back until she was eventually walking next to her dad, who was behind me, while Ernie and Scott had taken up the rear.

  As we walked, I found myself marveling at how secure Kellan looked, and how easily he wore the role of leader. Even men like Bill, who was older and had been the leader of his own group for nine years, didn’t bat an eye when Kellan spoke, and watching him now, I found my gaze moving over his broad shoulders, taking in the way his muscles flexed beneath his black t-shirt, and how thick his biceps were. How strong he looked. It was enough to drive me to distraction, which was a bad thing when I was supposed to be keeping an eye out.

  “Keep it together,” I muttered under my breath as I tore my gaze from Kellan’s broad shoulders.

  After that, I made sure to focus on my surroundings instead of Kellan’s firm body. There would be time enough for that when we got back to the shelter—or maybe even in Altus if we got lucky.

  We found metal fence posts piled in the back corner just like Ernie said we would, a layer of dirt and filth covering them. They were rusty, too, but it wasn’t anything that would prevent them from serving their purpose. They were still straight and strong, and there was no reason to think we couldn’t use them to reinforce the fence. Plus, these days, we’d be hard pressed to find fence posts that weren’t rusty.

  “We’ll take them all,” Kellan said.

  He took a quick look around before slipping his gun in its holster, then bent and started separating the metal posts. Blake and Bill moved to help him while I stayed where I was, my gun in one hand and a knife in the other, my focus not once straying to Kellan’s biceps even though I was sure they were getting a pretty good workout at the moment. Christine stood at my side, and behind us, Ernie and Scott were on alert, their own gazes moving about the darkness in search of trouble.

  Kellan and Blake worked together to haul some of the long posts through the store while Bill carried some of the small pieces we’d need to repair the fence. Christine and I walked behind them with our guns out while Ernie and Scott led the way. Our boots had left footprints in the dust, and we followed them to the front of the store like it was necessary to find our way out.

  Stepping outside blinded me even though the store hadn’t been pitch black, and I lifted my free hand to my forehead, hoping to shade my eyes from the burst of sunshine. The two men who’d led the way reached the truck, and Scott was already climbing in while Ernie stood next to the large front tire, his eyes scanning the area. Kellan hoisted himself up after Scott, and Bill and Blake worked together to hand off the large pieces of fence. It was tedious since the truck was so high off the ground, and as I watched, I couldn’t help thinking we’d do well to find another, smaller truck. This thing was useful for crushing the dead, but it was a pain in the ass whenever we needed to load something into the back.

  “Keep your eyes open down there,” Kellan called.

  He didn’t specifically direct the comment at Ernie, but since the man had just crossed his arms and leaned against the tire, it was pretty obvious who he was talking to. Behind his taped frames, Ernie’s eyes flashed, and the scowl he’d been wearing over the last two months deepened. He glared up at Kellan, who was too busy loading the supplies to either notice or care, and then shot me a fiery look.

  I ignored him and continued scanning the area, and when Christine caught my gaze, she rolled her eyes.

  Like me, she had her gun out and her eyes open, focusing on the distance where anything could be lurking. Beyond the crumbling Wal-Mart, a cluster of roofs were visible, many of them missing shingles. The neighborhood used to be the most affluent one in town, full mansions that looked out-of-place among the other more modest neighborhoods throughout Altus, but money hadn’t done a thing to stop those people from suffering the same fate as the less fortunate, and now the houses were crumbling just like everything else.

  Once the supplies were loaded, Scott and Kellan hopped down, and we all headed back into the store. We moved as a group this time, clumped together instead of spread out. Even Ernie, who looked like he wanted to spit every time he glanced Kellan’s way.

  Back inside, the store seemed dark and oppressive compared to the hot afternoon. Here and there, beams of sunlight broke through the darkness, coming from holes in the ceiling, and dust motes danced across them like they were putting on a show. The deeper we got into the store, though, the darker it got. Back here, the roof was still mostly intact, and the shadows were black and thick after the brightness of the day.

  “You four keep a lookout while we get more supplies,” Kellan said, his gaze moving from Christine and me to Scott and Ernie. “This store is big, and I wouldn’t be surprised if a zombie or two was hiding somewhere.”

  I nodded while at my side Ernie let out a low grunt of annoyance. Scott, as usual, was too difficult to read to know what he was thinking, and Christine was already looking around.

  Bill, Blake, and Kellan went back to digging through the fence posts piled up in the corner. With every move they made, the clang of metal against metal echoed through the store, and my heart beat faster. I had my knife out and ready, but when the hair on my scalp prickled and the dread in my stomach grew, I pulled my gun as well. I couldn’t pinpoint why—the store was quiet except the noise from the men—but I suddenly had a bad feeling, and I couldn’t shake it.

  As if trying to fulfill a prophecy, the zombie came out of nowhere only seconds after I pulled my gun. Bill, Blake, and Kellan were loaded down with posts when it stumbled from the shadowy recesses of the store, tripping over debris b
ut not falling. His arms were out, reaching for us before he’d even gotten close, but with the darkness hanging over us, I couldn’t tell if he was old or new, or how fast I could expect him to be.

  “Incoming!” Scott, who stood to my right, called.

  Just as the words passed his lips, two more zombies appeared.

  “Shit,” Kellan muttered.

  “We’ve got this,” I said as I shoved my gun in the waistband of my jeans.

  We were four on three, making the gun more of a liability than an asset—we didn’t want to risk drawing more of the dead by firing a gun unnecessarily—and I was confident I could take one zombie out using my knife without a problem. Even if he was fast.

  Scott was already going head to head with the first zombie, with the help of Christine—the thing must have been fast—and Ernie had moved to meet the second—a woman whose gray skin hung on her, giving off the impression that she’d been a few hundred pounds heavier in life. That left zombie number three for me. I gripped my knife harder as I moved forward, ignoring the way my heart pounded, my focus solely on the creature in front of me.

  The thing lunged, faster than I’d anticipated, and I barely made it out of the way before he got a grip on me. He looked old and rotten, his skin ripped in multiple places and oozing enough black blood that the stench seemed to waft off him in waves. Even so, he was fast, much faster than any other zombie I’d ever gone up against, and every time I tried to dodge his advances, he seemed to be able to predict what I was going to do, cutting me off over and over again.

  “Regan,” Kellan called.

  I ignored him, too focused on the zombie.

  The creature lunged, and I stumbled back, moving from the shadowy corner and into a beam of light that had broken through a hole in the ceiling. Now I could see how decayed the thing was. His skin was ripped and completely missing in places, revealing meaty insides and, in a few instances, bone. In one particularly deep wound on his head, a few maggots wiggled through the rotten flesh, making me gag. The sights and smells of zombies, I was almost used to, but my stomach twisted at the idea of flies using the dead to procreate.

 

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