Foamers (19 page)

“Hey,” he replied.

“You got cabin fever?”

“It’s not that. It’s … Do you need something?”

Tiny pulled out her combat knife and proceeded to dig under her nails. “My leg isn’t
ready to try and take on Mother Nature. You need to take the Stray back.”

Mick sat against the bed. “You know I won’t leave you here.”

“There’s no weather channel to tell us when this is going to let up. Our numbers
can’t be split like this. You need to take John back.”

“Even if I wanted to, Kade would kill me if I left you here.”

Tiny pointed her knife at him. “Since when’s everyone more afraid of Kade than of
me?”

“None of us wants to get caught on the line between you two. All three of us leave
together.”

“If I can’t convince you to leave, then tell me why you were playing doctor,” she
said.

“Boredom.”

“Bullshit.”

Mick wrung his hands as he thought about his answer.

“I always wanted to be a doctor. Med school would have been close to ten years and
a couple hundred thousand dollars. You knew my family, we didn’t have that. With
the police academy they paid me and it was only a couple months. It paid well and
I still helped people.”

“Well,” Tiny said, turning toward the hallway, “we’ve got time. Money is no object.
Start learning instead of playing.”

“It’s not that simple. There’s med school, residency, boards, the list goes on.”

She looked over her shoulder at him and gave him a reassuring smile. “Not anymore.
This is the Primal Age. You can be anything you want to be. Hit the books.”

Mick laughed. “I’ll learn to be a doctor when you learn how to cook.”

Tiny’s eyes narrowed as a smirk curled from the corner of her mouth. “Game on.”

With that said, she left Mick to his thoughts. He picked up the stethoscope and turned
it over in his hands, her words tossing around in the stormy sea of his mind.

* * *

The nor’easter started its fifth day. Alpha lay in a huddle with most of his troop.
When Pepper had fallen into the river, they learned this trick to keep warm. Now
they were using the method to survive.

Alpha felt an internal pain, like a hand had squeezed his insides. The discomfort
he couldn’t place built into a fiery ball of anguish.

None of them had eaten since huddling. The pain gripped Alpha, and he erupted through
the snow. His instincts spurred him into a four-legged sprint and the rest of his
troop burst from their snowy dome and pursued him.

Alpha’s nostrils flared as he searched for the scent of something to eat and his
eyes scanned the snow-covered world. Nothing was the same as it had been when he
lay down. The trees, the ground—everything but the sky’s color had turned to one.

He spun in circles, his body in a panic, unsure of where to hunt or scavenge. The
foam bubbled from his mouth and dripped into the snow as the rest of the troop caught
up to him. There was something in their eyes he recognized from a long time ago.
It made him feel something big, but he did not know what to call it.

* * *

Victoria trudged through the snow in the Tribe’s base to where the Humvees were idling
behind a snowplow. The strike had been planned for before the blizzard, but she had
stalled them as best she could. When other Tribal assignments threatened Sarge’s
ranks, he rallied his troops and decided attacking in these conditions would be the
best choice, since the snow would conceal their numbers.

Victoria hid her feelings and let her face stay slack, as Kade had taught her. The
Tribesmen were at peak excitement for this attack, especially the civilian volunteers.
The civilians were the ones she had trouble figuring out. The former soldiers were
going into it like any other mission: An enemy had been presented to them, and they
were told to neutralize the objective. The civilians seemed to be high on the idea
of killing people, like this was a way to let off their pent-up frustration.

If she knew a way to explain to them that nothing would make them feel better, she
would have tried to talk them out of going, but she had become afraid to step out
of Sarge’s shadow. Many men had made it clear what would happen to her if she did.
As Victoria approached the last Humvee in the line, Sarge was waiting beside the
passenger door.

“You ready for this?” Sarge asked, opening her door.

“Been dreaming about it,” she replied with a casual smile.

“The men are stoked. Should be a fun day,” he said as she climbed into the Humvee.

She stopped Sarge from closing the door and channeled her best Kade. “If they choose
to fight, I want their leader, Kade, to die last. I want him to suffer. I want him
to know everything he loves is dead. I want him to know how I feel.”

A snake-like sneer tugged across Sarge’s face. “Yes, ma’am.”

___________

Kade pulled a chair to one of the desks they were using as a breakfast table. Ashton,
X,
and Grace were gathered around, eating a variety of different cold breakfasts. The
low energy in the room reminded him of mornings before school.

Kade hated mornings more than usual. As his wounds healed, he aggravated them in
his sleep, leaving him feeling worse when he awoke. They were all tired and sore.
With only the four of them, running guard shifts had made sound sleep impossible,
and they were carrying the weight of their missing members.

As tired and sore as he was, Kade felt alive, as he hadn’t in many years.

“
Kade!”
Tiny’s voice boomed, making Kade wonder if he was hearing things.

X pulled the walkie off his belt and handed it to Kade.

“Yeah?” Kade said.

“
Four Humvees following a snowplow on their way to campus.”

Kade’s pastry fell to the table.

“
I’m sorry we’re separated.”

All eyes fell on Kade. He could feel the weight of leadership pressing down on him,
but he smiled at everyone waiting for his answer. This was what he had planned for
his entire life, and he wasn’t going to let doubt stop him this time.

“Don’t worry. This is what we are going to do …”

* * *

Sarge placed his left foot on the gas pedal to give his right foot a break. The whiteout
was making their trip to Lambian drag on; they hadn’t been able to reach the speed
limit once. At least the snow would cover their numbers and give them the element
of surprise. They had rallied a total of twenty warriors, counting his squad. Against
the handful of people Victoria had said were left, he didn’t want to split the spoils
more than necessary.

He glanced in the rearview mirror, where his men were sliding on their bulletproof
vests and ballistic masks. Sarge smiled to himself, thinking they looked like hockey
goalies from hell. Beside him, Victoria was dressed in winter camo with a black Kevlar
vest overtop, and he couldn’t help but find it sexy. At first he had found her too
timid for his taste, but she was gaining points.

The Tribe had arrived on Kade’s doorstep more than five minutes ago. He was waiting
in the room with the ladder, mentally preparing for what was coming. Idling in a
nearby parking lot, Sarge had called for Kade to come meet them. He doubted that
the Tribe would be as polite as the last time they met. He felt that five minutes
was just the right amount of time for them to wonder what Kade was scheming. Luckily,
Tiny had spotted them from the hospital, which took away the Tribe’s element of surprise.
With the snow still billowing, it took the entire cohort to locate the five vehicles
surrounding their fortress.

Kade and X tossed the rollout ladder over the windowsill, listening to it clank against
the wall. Argos and Fenris sat patiently, panting by the window with harnesses and
safety hooks securely fastened to them. Grabbing the bottom of his parka, Kade zipped
the heavy coat from his knees to his neck. He slid on his knuckles and pulled his
hand inside his sleeve.

“You know, I’m not a fan of running,” X said.

Kade pulled the hood over his head, shadowing his eyes. “You don’t like my plan?”

“I don’t like sending you into the lion’s den alone.”

“Just make sure the running part works. I’ll be fine,” Kade said, clapping X on the
shoulder. What he was really saying was that since he was already dead anyway, either
way, the plan would work.

“Good luck,” X said with a wink.

“You too,” Kade said, then began his descent. The idea of walking right up to armed
enemies didn’t appeal to him any more than it did to X, but he was hoping that if
his plan worked, he’d be able to protect the rest of his group. The climb down the
ladder irritated his stitches, and he thought of the lecture Tiny would give him
if he ever saw her again. To think about never seeing her brown eyes again felt as
pleasant as eating glass.

He trudged through the foot of snow toward the waiting Humvee and the snowplow, knowing
his plan was dangerous. Tiny had signed off on the idea, though, which gave him some
hope they would come out of this alive. Her confidence in him was a constant source
of strength. He never knew what he had done to deserve it, but Tiny was always there
right in the nick of time to save him when he was drowning .

For choosing people to spend the end of the world with, he couldn’t have asked for
a better group. They had to be victorious, even if he didn’t live to see it. Damian
had to be getting close by now, and once he was here, he could fix the foamer problem.
Kade couldn’t imagine how much of a disappointment he would be to his brother if,
after traveling the entire East Coast, Damian found an empty fortress.

Kade stopped as he stepped onto the snow-covered macadam of the parking lot, bordered
by trees that were nearly impossible to see, even though they were only a few yards
away. He saw the red puff of a cigar against the sheet of white that hung in the
air. Sarge was back. Not that Kade was entirely shocked, but he had hoped this wouldn’t
come to pass.

“So glad you made this civil,” Sarge said, stepping across the lot with a second
figure that was far shorter than he was. As they closed in on him, Kade could see
their Kevlar vests and ballistic masks. They seemed straight out of a horror movie.

“Just call me Mr. Helpful,” Kade replied, hugging his coat around his body.

“Make sure you take his walkie,” the shorter one said, and Kade immediately recognized
the voice. It was Victoria, come back to make his life hell again.

Kade didn’t bother waiting to be asked and took the walkie from his pocket and handed
it over. Three more black masks filled in behind Sarge and Victoria.

“Victoria. I’m glad to see you’ve made new friends,” Kade said.

Victoria snatched the walkie out of his hand and pressed the button. “I know you
all have a half-assed plan created by Captain Dipshit here, but you have one chance
now to surrender, or we will give no quarter.”

The other three surrounded Kade as Victoria fastened the walkie onto her belt. He
kept his body still, but let his eyes search his opponents. Each was wearing a bulletproof
vest and a ballistic mask while carrying an assault rifle. Even though they looked
like military, these weren’t the rigid, clean-cut military of the past. These were
that narrow percent that enjoyed killing. A pack of hyenas starving for blood.

“
Victoria
?” Tiny’s voice said through the walkie.

“Would you like to surrender, Tiny?”

“
You never disappoint, you little bitch. Good luck.
”

Kade spun, dropping his parka to his wrists. Running the length of his spine was
the katana from his father, and tucked into his belt was a road flare. With a flick,
he launched the coat onto Sarge. Continuing his momentum, he landed his rubber-knuckled
fist into a soldier’s face, knocking him off-balance. Kade checked Victoria to the
ground then ignited the flare. The device landed in the snow and illuminated the
parking lot. Kade sprinted for cover, half surprised his plan was working.

In all his life, in all the sports he had played, in all of his experiences, he had
never felt anything like the rush currently pounding through every pore of his body.
He felt his heart beating in his chest with more purpose than just pumping blood.

Grace and Ashton opened fire on the parking lot. The flare lit the area with a pinkish
hue, which made the soldiers’ shadows flicker. From their windows on the fifth, they
rained down bullets. Ashton found shadows and took her shots with a hunting rifle.
There was no way to know—between the snow, distance, and light—if they had hit anybody.
However, that didn’t deter them.

At the parking lot, a soldier clutched a bullet hole in his throat. He and his fellow
Tribesmen had been running after Kade. The sudden loss of air sent him sprawling
across the snow. As bullets rained down around them, Kade used the whiteout to slide
behind a Humvee and draw his katana. If he could stay inside the pack he would neutralize
their firearms, since they’d have a better chance of shooting each other.

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and made peace with the fact that he was
already dead. Between the gunshots from Lambian, he listened for footsteps. If he
swung too high, he’d hit the mask; if he swung too low, he’d hit the vest. Those
were errors he couldn’t afford. The golden rule when fighting superior numbers was
to never be overwhelmed. If he missed a swing, the Tribe would have a chance to swarm
him, which would be his end.

The first set of steps came around the Humvee and Kade spun into the charge. The
tip of the sword whistled through cold air and sliced along the side of a soldier’s
throat, severing the jugular and sending a spray of red across the white snow. Kade
crouched low as Sarge slammed into him. The moment they collided, Kade sprang to
his feet and tumbled Sarge over his back. He extended the tip of the sword straight
into the path of an oncoming warrior. The man’s sprinting mass met the blade just
below the bottom of his vest. Kade tried to sidestep the impaled body that pulled
the sword from his hands, but his feet slid out, carving a tunnel in the snow. The
dying man plowed against his wounded side.

He spun off the hit, trying to steady his feet in the sliding snow. The impact ignited
a burning fire in his damaged side. The pain coursed through him in waves, stealing
his breath as his feet found traction just in time to dodge Victoria. She skidded
through the snow and crashed into Sarge, as he was getting to his feet. A gunshot
echoed from Lambian, giving Kade his bearings. Like a running back, he dodged through
a group of four, who had come from the parked snowplow nearby to help their brothers-in-arms.
Clutching for fabric, their hands pinged off him, until the last one snagged a handful
of shirt and used it to tackle Kade.

The cold snow slapped Kade’s face. All the running had left him winded, and his body
was emblazoned with pain. The group of Tribesmen dog piled him. His body molded into
the snow, which blacked out his vision and restricted his breathing as the thousands
of crystals jabbed against his skin.

Until that moment, Kade had felt his hope growing; by some miracle, he would be able
to survive. Now he knew there was no chance. The mission he had never called a suicide
mission—but always knew was one—had come to be. His only hope was that the rest of
his plan would go as well as he had expected this piece to play out.

“Don’t kill him,” Sarge shouted at the Tribesmen as he rushed toward the pile with
Victoria beside him. His hands entwined in the shirts of two of the soldiers and
pulled them off.

Sarge hoisted Kade upright by his shoulders. Kade let his body go limp; after all,
it worked for possums. Sarge’s weasel-like eyes glared at him from behind the ballistic
mask and steamy breath rose around the edges.

“We’ve got plans for him,” Sarge said. “Storm the dorm.” Kade slammed his forehead
into Sarge’s ballistic mask. Sarge’s head hardly budged, while Kade felt as if his
own brains might leak through his ears. The corners of Sarge’s mouth pulled into
a wolf-like grin, and Kade recognized he was in for a world of pain punctuated by
death. Sarge slammed him on the hood of the Humvee. The metal refused to budge against
his weight as he withered against the unmovable force.

Kade’s vision swam in black as he fought to stay with his body. His head hurt, his
side burned worse, but both were indicators he was still alive. His searing receptors
were the line to his consciousness that he clung to. His goal was to delay his death
long enough for his friends to finish the plan.

As Sarge threw him to the snow, the other two Humvees drove around to the side of
the building where Ashton and Grace were in firing positions.

Ashton opened her left eye, taking in the two vehicle-sized shapes. “It’s working.
Run!”

She dropped her rifle and pushed Grace through the doorway. They burst into the
hallway and flew down the corridor to the stairwell. The two fifty-caliber machine
guns mounted on the Humvees turned the walls of the fifth floor into Swiss cheese.
The heavy rounds tore fist-size holes through the dorm walls like they were made
of paper.

The two guns ran empty, and the Tribesmen hurried to reload them. On the third floor,
Grace busted a window with a mini sledgehammer, and Ashton aimed the flare gun. With
a loud hiss, the flare tore through the snowy air like a comet. The flare landed
between the Humvees and the building. Ashton and Grace ran for the other side of
the building and rolled out the escape ladder. Scrambling down the ladder, Ashton
wondered if she worried more for Kade or X. She couldn’t imagine losing either of
them. Even though she always knew Kade would die young, she had never lived a day
without him, and didn’t want to know what it would be like without his protectiveness
in her life.

On the other side of Lambian, the flare illuminated the vehicles as the two turret
operators shared a shrug, disregarding the marking. It was just the sign Tiny was
waiting for, and she pressed the gas pedal of the pickup. Thanks to the snowplow,
Tiny, Mick, and John had been able to follow the convoy in secret, all the way back
from the hospital. The pickup barreled around the bend in the road, gaining speed
as it made its move to T-bone the Humvees.

“Are you sure this will work?” Mick asked John while they lay on their backs in the
bed of the pickup, their feet braced on the rear of the cab.

“Positive,” John replied, having no clue if they would be able to absorb the impact
or if they would break their legs.

The pickup crumpled against the Humvee, hardly having the force to rock the vehicle.
Mick and John gave with the impact. Mick launched himself over the side while John
stood and drew an arrow. The dark forms spun their turrets toward him. With the tap
of the trigger release, he launched the first arrow. By the time the projectile reached
the neck of the nearest man, John had his next arrow nocked and aimed. The second
arrow zoomed through the guide hitting the second Tribesman just above the collarbone
and passing most of the way through his throat. John smiled to himself, but then
fought the urge to puke as his stomach realized he had just murdered two people.
All of this was replaced by panic as the pickup’s horn blared.