Condemn (BUNKER 12 Book 2) (12 page)

"What the—?" Bix said. "Jesus
Christ!"

A wire cage occupied the pen just to
the left of the door, and inside were two naked figures. Dried
blood covered their ashen skin, staining their chins. Their wrists
and ankles were manacled to the floor.

"Wraiths?" Finn cried.

The creatures looked up and snarled.
Then they launched themselves off the ground at the
trio.

It was Danny who first heard the motorcycles, confusing them for
the sound of the bus returning. He was out of the room he and Jonah
were searching, running down the stairs before Jonah could stop
him.

"Wait, Danny!"

But Danny wasn't listening. He was
shouting for the bus. He slammed through the front door just as the
two bikers disappeared around the corner.

Jonah grabbed his arm and drew him
back up onto the porch with a hiss. "It's not them!"

"It's people, though! And they might
know something about the bus!"

"Except they came into town from a
different direction. Did you notice that?"

"They did?"

"Did you also notice the
semi-automatic rifles?"

Danny slowly shook his
head.

"Slung over their backs, and another
in their saddlebags. We need to know who they are or at least their
intentions before introducing ourselves to anyone that heavily
armed."

"So they have guns. That doesn't mean
they're hostile. You saw what happened last night, Jonah. We should
be carrying that kind of fire power, too. If we'd had guns, we
wouldn't be trapped here now."

You may be right," Jonah calmly
answered, "but it doesn't mean we go running after the first
uninfected people we see. Friendly or not, they're liable to shoot
you dead before they realize you're not a Wraith."

Danny winced, but he nodded. "You're
right."

"Look," Jonah continued, "I hope as
much as you do that they can help us, but let's be careful, okay?
Even if they are good people and want to help, it doesn't mean we
stop helping ourselves. Besides, the noise those motorbikes make is
loud enough to draw whatever Wraiths in the area straight to them.
I'd rather not walk into the middle of that scene."

He pulled Danny back inside the house,
where they had gathered the few useful items they'd managed to
scrounge up in town since sunrise. It wasn't much— a couple kitchen
knives, a cracked baseball bat, a rusted hatchet, a few cans of dog
food, and some expired bottles of aspirin and veterinary
antibiotics.

There were a few more buildings that
they hadn't yet searched, including the small brick bank on the
corner, and the church opposite it. What they had seen so far
convinced them that others had come through town before them with
the same intention, probably many others at many different times.
The pickings were slim indeed.

Jonah began to fill his pack and
instructed Danny do likewise. Keeping one of the kitchen knives
out, he hoisted the heavy bundle onto his back. "Keep close. I want
to find out as much about these guys as we can before we show
ourselves. We'll circle around."

They stepped back out onto the porch,
making sure to keep in the shadows. "House-to-house," he said. "Try
to stay out of sight. When we reach the corner—"

"What if they didn't stop?" Danny
suddenly asked, looking afraid. "What if they just kept on going? I
don't hear the bikes anymore."

Jonah didn't answer. He frowned and
shrugged. He knew it was a possibility. If the men had left, then
it would be all on him for keeping Danny from stopping them. But it
didn't mean they'd been abandoned. He had faith the bus would
return.

Assuming anyone on it is
still alive.

They slipped down the steps, then
sidled over to the corner of the house. Jonah checked around the
corner, shook his head, and ran for the next. In this fashion, they
made their way down the street, and when they reached the end of
the block, Jonah held Danny back. "They're parked in front of the
auto shop. No Wraiths in sight."

Danny's eyes widened. "The shop? Seems
like too much of a coincidence. Do you suppose they knew we were
there?"

"Maybe. If so, it could mean they
found the bus and were told where to find us."

Danny's mood brightened. "I knew
it!"

"So where's the bus? It could also be
that they have something to do with that mess we found inside. We
can't assume anything."

He took another look. The shop was
across the street, past the light that the bus had knocked over
onto the sidewalk last night. He shrugged off the pack and laid it
onto the ground at Danny's feet. "Stay here with the stuff. Don't
let them see you."

"Where are you going?"

"To get a closer look."

"But what about me?"

"Just trust me on this, Danny. I can
get over there faster and stay hidden better than the two of us
together. No offense."

"What do I do if they start to
leave?"

Jonah pursed his lips. "If it looks
like they're leaving town and I'm not back, then I guess we have no
choice. Stop them. Just, please, don't get yourself shot." He saw
the look of alarm on the older man's face and tried to reassure
him. "Be smart, and it won't be a problem."

Before Danny could say anything else,
he sprinted out into the street, keeping a low profile. He made it
to the bank and slid to a stop around the corner of the building,
then turned and gestured at Danny to sit tight. When Danny nodded
that he understood, Jonah continued along the side and around the
back.

The town had been built with most of
the businesses lining the main road and a few more extending along
the intersecting street. There was a lot of concrete, but
thankfully little fencing separating the properties. Businesses
immediately gave way to residential homes.

Many of the houses had low pickets or
decorative wire fences in front, which we easy to step over, and
the property lines separating neighbors appeared to have been
marked with simple shrubs. The plants had since shriveled into
lifeless skeletons from neglect.

He climbed over an elevated
ramped between the bank and the next building over, which had once
been some kind of office, then skirted that structure and hurried
over to the next. A sign on the side advertised
BAB'S BBQ & NOTARY PUBLIC
. He
wondered idly what had become of Bab. The memory of barbecued
steaks and hamburgers reminded him of how empty his stomach
was.

Each of the businesses had a small
apron of concrete in back for parking. At the rear edge of the
bank's lot was a cinderblock wall, and beyond that were either
empty fields or more houses.

A large rusted barbecue grill sat near
the restaurant's back door. Next to it was a dumpster, one of its
two lids propped slightly open with what appeared to be an old
plastic dairy crate.

The repair shop was the next building
over, but to get to it, he'd have to climb over a six-foot wooden
fence or go around it.

He hurried over to the dumpster and
leaned down beside it. With the butt of the knife, he quietly
rapped on the side. No sound came from within. Carefully, he pushed
the lid open and set it against the side of the
restaurant.

The plastic crate was wedged inside
the nearly full dumpster, half buried beneath piles of dusty, faded
black plastic trash bags. A foul odor of decay rose out, surprising
him, and he gagged into his elbow. After three years, how could
there still be anything left to rot?

Rain got
in
, he thought.
That's all. Then an animal crawled in and drowned. Maybe lots
of rats. Or a raccoon.

He tugged on the crate, grunting
quietly, and whatever was keeping it in place finally began to
yield. He gave it a stronger tug while twisting, and it broke free
with a snap, throwing him backward to the ground. The crate flew
out of his hand and clattered to the cement behind him.

"Shit!"

A moment later, the side door of the
shop creaked open "—heard something outside," A man said, speaking
with a slight accent. "I'm going to check, Wayne."

Jonah scrambled to a crouch. He was
ready to run if necessary.

"Dammit, Vin, I keep telling you,
there ain't nothing here. And if there was, it's gone now. Now,
we've come and looked. It's time to go back."

"We just got here. The captain will
know we barely looked anywhere."

"Cheever's going to be stuck for a
while back there. Besides, he won't care if we come back
empty-handed. I could see it on his face— he knows this is a waste
of time. Ain't no one here."

"They said those two would be in the
shop—"

"And they ain't. You know as well as I
they're dead or infected, and I don't intend to stick around to
verify it, neither. We done our duty. Besides, ain't you the one
who always says this place gives you the creeps."

"It does."

"And now we know why Cheever picked
you for this job. That's why he always picks you for the crap jobs,
Vin, because you ain't got balls."

"Then why does he pick
you?"

"Because he knows I'm smarter than he
is."

"It's because everyone else has more
seniority."

"No, he thinks we ain't shit. That,
and he wants to save the best for himself."

"Best of what?"

"How many you count back
there? How many women? How many
girls?"

Vinnie didn't answer right away. When
he finally did, he sounded uncertain. "You're wrong,
Wayne."

"What? Don't tell me you ain't thought
about it. We're all human? We all got needs."

"No."

"Hell, even Wainwright ain't a saint.
You don't think he doesn't—"

"You're going to get us into trouble
talking like that."

"And who's going to tell him?
You?"

"It's not right."

"Here's what's going to happen, Vin.
Cheever and his pals, first thing they plan to do when they get
back to base is separate the newcomers, don't let them talk to one
another."

"That's for quarantine. Colonel
Wainwright—"

"It's so they can pick and choose who
stays and who goes. And who gets to be whoever's private girl
toy."

Jonah frowned. They hadn't come right
out and said they'd found the bus, but it seemed obvious enough
that they had. What was also obvious was that the others were in
danger, especially the women.

Especially Bren and
Hannah.

Wayne's next words were much more
private, spoken in a conspiratorial tone of voice. Jonah missed
half of it, but the part he did hear chilled his blood to
ice.

"There's two girls on that bus, Vin.
Pretty little girls with pretty little faces. One for you, one for
me. Now, let's get the hell back."

The door slammed shut on his last
words, leaving Jonah frozen with horror.