DEAD: Blood & Betrayal: Book 11 of the DEAD Series (7 page)

“Why?” came out of my mouth before I had a chance to bite it back. “Why would you do that?” I lunged towards Suzi, but Jim must have expected my reaction, because he had a grip on my arms that seemed improbable considering his condition.

“I want to make my point very clear.” Suzi stepped around Hunter, or the thing that used to be Hunter. “We require each and every settlement in the area to send representatives down to us to negotiate how things are going to work. In addition, your group has a young man named Billy Haynes. I want him to meet with me personally to finalize this situation.”

“That still does not explain why,” I snarled. “Why would you do this to Hunter?”

“I had concerns regarding his loyalty. Why he would lie to protect you, I have no earthly idea, yet he did.”

“What!” I exploded. To say that I was incredulous would be seriously understating my feelings.

“You tried to escape, he did not report you. You were taken to see your friend here without my approval. There are several smaller infractions, but those would be the main ones and the reason that I had to make things very clear to the men and women who will be acting as your escort.” Suzi turned and faced the group that was no longer separated into their gender specific clusters. “If you fail me, if you allow this girl and her friend to escape, if you think of doing anything other than what I have instructed you to do in a very specific set of orders, I will ensure that each and every one of you joins Hunter in his fate. Is that clear?”

There were nods and mutters of “Yes, ma’am” given. I almost expected Suzi to pull some drill instructor crap and bellow about how she couldn’t hear them. Instead, she gave a curt nod and drew a sword from her side. With one swing, she lopped Hunter’s head off at the base of his neck. It was a clean blow that severed the head and sent it rolling towards me.

I wanted to scream when it came to a stop. As luck would have it, the head came to a halt on its side, but the eyes were looking directly at me. Jim yanked me back and put himself between me and Hunter’s head.

“Let me just tell you that I don’t care what happens, you and I are gonna deal with this one day in the future.” I was at a loss for words, and hearing Jim like this was even more disorienting. I simply stood there like an idiot.

Like a girl.

All my life, I prided myself on being tough. I wasn’t afraid of anything or anybody. I could handle myself in a fight. Unlike girls like Kayla Brockhouse, I was a force to be reckoned with.

In this moment, I was the farthest thing from fierce. The tears came before I had the chance to even try and shut them down. Considering the volume, I doubt I would have had any success.

Ten minutes later, we were marching out of the camp and heading home to Platypus Creek. It would take us a few days to get there. Hopefully, I would regain control of myself enough to get my mind back in the game. Right now, the only thing that I knew for certain was that I wanted to see Suzi die a terrible death, and I wanted to be directly involved in that fate.

4

Vignettes LXII

It took a few days, but eventually, Juan was able to be up and about with the help of a handmade set of crutches. His leg throbbed, but each night, Gerald (he refused to call this guy Grizzly Man no matter how much his daughters begged) would whip up this pungent concoction and have Juan drink it.

Juan did not have the desire to know what it was made from; the taste told him that he would probably be better off lacking that specific knowledge. But whatever it was made from, it knocked him out cold each night and allowed him to sleep.

As the days crept by, Juan did what he could to help inside the cabin. He was no fan of scrubbing pots and iron skillets, but he was not much good for anything else. Meanwhile, Gerald sort of just came and went. Sometimes Juan would wake up to find the man had already left for the day. But no matter what, the man was always back by evening.

“Not much longer before we won’t be getting any darkness at all,” Gerald said over dinner one evening in particular. “Soon as that happens, I have to make my trip into Anchorage. If you like, I can check on your friends and get them any message you might want to send.”

By the time Gerald was set to go, Juan had a letter written explaining that he and the girls would be there hopefully before the end of summer. However, if not, then certainly as soon as the next thaw. He also asked them to do something nice for Gerald as a token of gratitude.

At last it was time for the big man to climb up onto his cart; Juan was more than a little surprised when the girls both started to cry. They made Gerald promise to come back as soon as possible and to be extra safe.

The next few days felt strange. He’d been so focused on getting up and about as often as he could that he realized it had been days since he’d dwelled on the loss of Mackenzie. That realization put him in a funk that carried over to his daughters. Juan realized this when Della came to where he was sitting, her eyes welling with tears that were on the verge of spilling.

“I’m sorry, Papi,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around Juan as much as she could. A few seconds later, Denita joined.

“Sorry?” Juan leaned back so he could see the girls’ faces.

“Sorry for whatever we did that made you upset,” Denita mumbled, plunging her face back into Juan’s chest and now starting to bawl.

“Whoa!” Juan put his hands on his daughters’ heads and eased them up so that he could look them in the eyes. “You two haven’t done anything.”

“But you look unhappy,” Della insisted. “And nobody else is here to make you sad, so it has to be us.”

Juan frowned. He scolded himself for being so selfish and then cleared his throat to push down the lump that had grown.

“Tell ya what,” he said, making an effort to put some levity in his tone, “why don’t you two help me go down to the creek. I think it has been too long since we did any fishing.”

The girls both squealed in delight and began to scurry about the cabin. Apparently they knew exactly where Gerald kept everything because every time that he opened his mouth to say where they might find one thing or the other, either Della or Denita would dash over, grab whatever it was and then add it to the carry bag that they had placed on the table.

An hour later, all three of them were beside the bank of a fast moving creek. Juan warned the girls about the water at least a dozen times in the first twenty minutes before he opened his mouth to do it again and got his own words parroted back at him in sing-song unison.

By that evening, they had more fish than the three of them could eat in a week. The girls skipped and danced ahead of him as he made his way up the path on crutches. He was enjoying their laughter so much that he was caught off guard when they both froze and went instantly silent.

The soft moan of a deader carried to his ears. Juan did not have time to scold himself for being so careless. Before he could engage in any such thing, a single zombie stumbled out of the tall grass to the left of their path.

How had he been so thoughtless? How could he drop his guard even for a second? And now it would cost him one, if not both, of the most precious things he had left in the world.

Those thoughts all hit Juan in the blink of an eye. However, he never truly had the opportunity to wallow in a single one of them. As if they’d been practicing for just such an occasion, both girls rolled away from each other in a blur of arms and legs.

Della now stood on one side and Denita on the other. Each of them held her belt knife in her hand. Denita struck first, darting in and kicking the deader behind one knee. The pathetic thing crumpled and fell to the ground in an uncoordinated heap. Just that fast, Della swept in and drove her small blade into the temple of the downed zombie.

“Stupid deader,” Denita scoffed, giving the body another kick for good measure.

Juan was awestruck. While he had certainly done what he considered to be the parental duty of the times and teach his children how to fend off a zombie attack, he had never taught the girls anything like this. They had acted as a team in a very calculated and apparently practiced manner.

“Where did you learn that?” Juan asked, not making any attempt to hide how impressed he was with his girls.

“The Grizzly Man taught us,” Della said with a smile. “He said that if you got sick and went to live with mama, that we would need to know how to take care of ourselves if we were gonna stay here with him.”

***

Getting off of the island proved to be easier than Vix was comfortable with. In the first place, the simple fact that these people did it with so little effort was cause enough to be alarmed. She been living the life of blissful ignorance it would seem. She thought that this community was unified and that there was none of that funny business going on that always brought these sorts of groups to ruin.

As the sound of the oars dipping in and out of the water came in their steady rhythm, Vix had to wonder what else she might not be privy to when it came to the inner workings of their tiny community of New England. Couldn’t people see that this was likely part of the cause that the bloody zombies got the upper hold on society in the first place?

Well, that could not be helped now. At the moment, they had something very peculiar to look into that might very well mean bigger problems than apparently the entire population of London walking into the water and coming to the walls of her little village. Leave it to the living to flub up a zombie apocalypse.

Dawn was just starting to break as they ground into the shore. She had no idea where they might be. While she had made runs across the channel when her rotation came, the days were long gone when they paid that much attention to where they might land exactly. Who could tell the difference anymore between Hoo, Chattenden or Cliffe Woods?

After they pulled the boat entirely clear of the water and even took the time to cover it with some branches, they fell in as Marjorie led them inland. As they moved down a mostly overgrown road, Vix marveled as she always did at how Mother Nature was making short work at something that the British Empire had spent centuries creating.

The one thing that was very noticeable was the complete and utter lack of anything resembling a zombie. They were simply gone. Not one sole walker or halfie (her term for those missing their lower extremities) could be seen, heard, or smelled.

“We will be making for the top of that ridge,” Gordon said, pointing out the top of a long inclined slope. The ruins of a farm house sat there. It was two stories high and, if it somehow managed to be safe to enter, would provide an excellent view of the surrounding area.

Vix was so intent on taking in what was actually a rather stunning countryside that she ran into the back of Chaaya. She instantly went on the defensive, her hand going for her weapon. The woman placed a hand on hers and shook her head, her free hand bringing a finger to her lips in a shushing gesture. After Vix nodded that she understood, her eyes followed to where the other woman was pointing. On the opposite side of this narrow road was just another field, however, it was what was in that field that had the entire group so captivated.

A herd of horses were grazing on the grassy slope. They were all of different colors; some black, some bay. However, it was the pure white one in the middle that immediately drew the eye. The majestic animal was walking amongst the others, its head held high and proud, its long mane ruffling in the gentle breeze.

The animal froze and then craned its neck in their direction. Vix could almost swear that the creature was looking directly into her soul. If it was afraid, it gave no sign. More likely, it was just as curious about these recent intruders into its territory as she and the others were fascinated by its beauty.

Vix had no idea how much time passed until they resumed their trek, but she walked away feeling like she had witnessed something special. Wild animals were a common sighting on field runs, but horses were a rare treat. This herd easily numbered over a hundred and was by far the largest that she’d ever seen

At last they reached the top of the hill and the farm house. After Gordon pronounced it safe to enter, they all made their way to the upper floor. None of them were even the slightest bit inclined to snoop around. It was obvious that the place had been gutted and stripped of anything that might even be remotely useful ages ago.

The view was all they could hope for. It showed nothing but empty English countryside as far as the eye could see…with one exception. Far to the north, a single spiral of smoke twisted skyward. It looked pencil thin from where they stood, which meant that it was likely quite a large fire at the source. It also seemed to be in the general direction that they needed to travel.

They now had a general location for their target.

As the day dragged on, the group talked about what they hoped to do once they reached their destination. Vix took part in the conversation; however, she kept mum on making any specific offerings to the plan. In her experience, plans were best left as an outline. As soon as you put one into motion, something was bound to come along and ruin things.

They stopped for the evening at a roundabout. They could travel further, but there was no sense creeping along in the dark. Clouds had rolled in and there would be no moon to see by this evening. The world would be plunged into blackness. They would simply have to wait.

After a very brief debate, the notion of a campfire was finally agreed upon. Vix remained the lone voice of dissent. She was chilled, but her bed roll would be adequate. If the bad guys were close at hand, she saw no need in announcing their presence.

Her eyes had just closed after her standing the first watch shift when a scream jolted her awake.

***

“How many days since she spoke to you?” Caroline asked as they hiked along what had once been Interstate 5.

“Well, we packed and left five days ago, so I would have to say five,” Chad answered, casting a glance over his shoulder.

Ronni was keeping pace, but she had put about a quarter of a mile between herself and her dad. Chad had stopped early the first day when he realized how far back she had fallen, but when he stopped, so did she.

“You are going to get yourself killed!” he shouted, his voice echoing off of the canyon walls.

“Tell my dad that I am not a baby and can take care of myself!” had been the reply.

“She does know that I can hear her, right?” Chad had asked, glancing at Caroline.

“I think this is more symbolic,” Caroline had sighed, turning to resume walking and tugging at Chad so he would follow.

Every single day, Ronni made it a point to somehow wake up before either Chad or Caroline, gather her gear, and then put her distance between them for the day’s journey. After the second night, Caroline had taken Ronni aside and asked if she intended to keep this up forever.

“Just until we find a settlement, then I am done. If you and my dad want to just roam the country for eternity, feel free. But I am sick of moving. I want to wake up in a bed, do things like talk to
other
people,” had been the girl’s response.

The problem was that Caroline could understand where the girl was coming from. She hated moving almost as much. However, she could not deny the peculiar vibe of that last group. Add in the fact that they had a thing against those who were immune—which would include Ronni—and the recipe for trouble was already in the pot and simmering.

Once she took more time to think about things, she realized that she had noticed people eyeing Ronni suspiciously. Her arms were a mess of hideous scars. Oddly enough, those were not even the bite marks. Those were from her self-inflicted injuries when she had done something drastic to try and draw zombies away from some children.

Chad, as always, was putting the best interests of his daughter ahead of everything. However, if Caroline was being honest with herself, he had a tendency to overdo it. He could find an excuse anyplace they went. Just because somebody eyed his daughter (or herself for that matter) did not mean that they had some hideous designs churning in their mind. The problem was that Chad had spent a good portion of his life in prison. That had clouded his outlook on humanity perhaps worse than somebody who had never had the misfortune to ever be locked up. Add in some very unsavory business from one of the first settlements he and his daughter lived in, and he was overly gun shy.