Love in the Time of the Dead (11 page)

“Who need to learn how to fight these creatures. Now shoot them!”

“Shoot us,” Laney growled, “and I’ll die putting a bullet in your head, mister. Then all of your planning and treachery will have been for nothing.”

Her bluff held. No one moved to kill them, and Erhard finally conceded with anger and defeat in his eyes. “You may go, but anyone who chooses to leave with you, be warned. You will be leaving the safety of the colony, guards, and weapons to head out on foot through Dead infested forests.”

The crowd murmured amongst themselves, but none stepped forward. Sean gripped her shoulder from behind. As he guided her back toward the exit, she kept her gun trained on Erhard. She refused to lower her weapon until they were at the door. That man wouldn’t lose any sleep over putting a bullet in someone’s back.

“One more thing, Ms. Landry,” Erhard called out tauntingly. “It was very clever of you to find our stash. And leaving your little watchdog in a tree? Also surprisingly astute.”

Her heart jumped straight into her throat. Jarren.

“But you didn’t honestly think your team was the only one with a sniper, did you?”

Sean pulled her bodily through the exit doors just before she did something that would get them both killed.

Chapter Seven

“G
REER
D
ECIDED
T
O
S
TAY
A
ND
F
IGHT
,” Finn informed Sean as he shut the auditorium door firmly behind them.

Laney didn’t give a fig who was going or staying. There was no time for any more delay, so she bolted. Jarren, Jarren, Jarren. He had to be safe. Her ears filled with the sound of her heartbeat and frantic breathing as she ran. She knew what she would find when she left through the doors of Sean’s house, but her logic couldn’t quite overpower her innate need to find her brother safe.

She came out firing, one shot for every Dead with unbridled focus and accuracy. The colony had been large, and from the numbers around the building, the majority of it had already turned. And who knew how many Deads were let in through the gates in the first place? Luckily, many were still feeding. Lucky for her, but not so much for the townspeople. Piles of Deads were feasting on the colony’s poor dying souls. It made the numbers who noticed her exit of the building more manageable.

She bolted and left any Dead she didn’t have time to take care of trotting clumsily behind her. Darkness blanketed the colony, but fires torched the buildings behind her in the chaos and cast an eerie glow across the landscape. The path was illuminated just enough for sure-footed progress. Her name being called was a faint buzzing in her ear, followed by gunfire behind her. It wasn’t important. Nothing was important but finding Jarren.

The nine millimeter in her hand clicked, a truly frightening sound, as the firing pin found nothing to ignite. Out of ammo and a quick head count revealed twelve Deads closing in fast. She pulled a blade from her boot, but it wouldn’t be enough. Not even close to enough.

“I’m sorry, Jarren,” she whispered. She jumped on the first Dead with the knowledge that the others would be on her in moments. The night lit up with gunfire. It seemed to come from all around her, and the sheer volume of it disoriented her. The Dead under her put up a fight, thrashing and screaming and clawing. She had taken too much time to pin the Dead’s arms under her knees, but the others seemed to be having trouble finding her. She found her opportunity and ended its struggle with a well-placed knife through the eye.

“Laney!” Mitchell’s screaming finally got through to her, probably because he was shaking her hard enough to rattle her jaws. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Laney swung her head to look across the mass of slain bodies. The Deads in the immediate area were still and limp. Guist and Mitchell were staring at her like she was a maniac, and Sean and Finn had caught up just in time to ignore her completely and discuss strategy and escape.

Adrianna’s small hand was encased in Sean’s, but she wrenched it free when the child saw what Laney did. A woman walked unsteadily toward them, her long gray hair flowing with the breeze and illuminated by the burning building behind her.

“Mona!” the child cried as she ran for her nanny.

“No! Adrianna, stop!” Laney yelled as she saw the danger a split second before Sean did.

Mitchell and Guist had trained their weapons but were yelling about no clear shot. Adrianna was in the way.

Laney lunged, pushing her legs so fast her muscles screamed. She’d always been a terrible knife thrower, but for lack of other weapons she chunked her knife as hard as she could over Adrianna’s head and directly at the face of Mona the Dead.

The monster’s focus was directed only at the child, but as the knife hit her in the face, hilt first, that focus shifted decisively to Laney. The creature bellowed an inhuman sound, and Adrianna skidded to a halt in front of Mona. Laney didn’t slow, and with no other weapons at hand, she leapt through the air, over the child, and wrapped her legs around Mona. The collision caused the Dead to lose her already questionable balance, and both she and Laney reeled and landed hard on the unrelenting ground. Laney rolled on top of the Dead and punched her in the face over and over. Her blows damaged the creature very little as it didn’t feel pain, but she had to keep the thing shocked until she could figure out how to kill it. Mother Nature gave no weapons. No branches strong enough to do the job were anywhere within reaching distance.

Mona’s skin was still humanly warm, and the slap of the dying flesh against Laney’s knuckles made her want to scramble off and retch. She had liked Mona.

A strong hand grabbed Laney’s arm at the arc of her punch and placed a handgun smoothly into it. The split second hesitation gave Mona the Dead enough time to recover and stretch her neck as far as she could. The monster groaned and gnashed her teeth, desperate to hurt her. Laney put the gun to the Dead’s forehead and pulled the trigger.

“Goodbye, Mona,” came Sean’s quiet voice from behind.

Laney stood to find him shielding the sight of Mona’s limp body from Adrianna. She handed him his gun and retrieved her knife. Guist handed her pack and weapons over before he turned and popped a Dead that was getting too close for comfort.

“I have to find Jarren,” she told them.

Their escape plans could wait. That or they could leave her to catch up later. Either way they needed to get moving. More Deads would be on them any second.

“Where is he?” Sean asked.

“This way,” Mitchell answered. The lines in Mitchell’s face grew grim. The fact that Jarren hadn’t found them already wasn’t an encouraging sign.

The group ran at a frantic pace. Sean carried Adrianna, and Finn covered them to make up for their disadvantage. The run took an eternity, with every step becoming more frantic than the last. When they approached the storage buildings, Laney turned directly toward the grove of trees Jarren had intended to station himself in. A wave of relief washed over her when she saw movement under the biggest tree.

“Jarren,” Laney called as she rushed toward it. “Why didn’t you come find us?”

The movement froze, and she raked the beam of her flashlight over the darkness. The light reflected off of a set of film-layered dead eyes staring back at them. The Dead was crouched defensively over something.

“No, no, no, no,” she said, the chill of dread tingling to her very fingertips. She shot the Dead, inconsiderate of the noise, and pulled the carcass viciously off Jarren’s body.

She kneeled beside her brother’s limp form, chanting his name in a hoarse whisper. Mitchell kneeled on the other side of his body, and Guist cursed loudly behind her.

Jarren’s body twitched, and then jerked in a string of spasms. Mitchell looked at her with the same resolve she had seen on Jarren’s face when he had decided to kill Monroe.

“Laney, we can’t leave him like this,” he said at her hesitation.

She shook her head back and forth as Jarren’s body struggled through its transition.

“I can’t,” she said. Tears fell down her cheeks, but she didn’t care.

“You want me to do it?”

Jarren opened his eyes and a long, low rumble came from his chest.

Mitchell jumped up and sat on his chest to hold him down, but the Dead only rolled his head from side to side. Mitchell aimed his rifle at Jarren’s forehead.

“Wait,” she said, grasping Mitchell’s arm to stop him.

“Laney, we’ve been through this before. You don’t want that for him. You made him a promise.”

“Pull that trigger, and I’ll never forgive you, Derek.”

She only used Mitchell’s first name when she meant business, and it did the trick. He stopped. She pulled out her knife and cut a line into her arm, wincing at the sting of the cold blade. She placed her wound over Jarren’s searching mouth and let some of her blood flow down his throat.

“I can’t watch this,” Guist spat angrily. “I’m going to find rope.”

Her actions were wrong, but she had to talk to him one last time. She’d gone over it a thousand times in her head; she’d tried to convince herself she could obey Jarren’s wishes if this situation ever came. In that moment, however, she was completely powerless to her emotions and attachment to the only family she had left.

Jarren the Dead panted and convulsed and his throat released pained sounds as his body seized. At last he stilled and his eyes closed. She wanted to take it back. What had she done? Torturing him before death wasn’t what Jarren deserved, and now it was too late to undo her dark and selfish deed.

“Water,” Jarren rasped through cooling and stiffening vocal cords.

Mitchell grabbed his canteen in a rush, but she slowed his hand. “Pour it in carefully. He can still infect you.”

“Laney?” Jarren said after taking a small gulp. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

“Jarren,” Laney cried softly. “Do you remember watching those storage buildings?”

His eyes searched hers in confusion. “Yeah, I remember.”

She watched it come back to him and hated herself.

“Someone shot me. I fell out of the tree and that’s all I can remember.”

“Jarren, someone let Deads in the gates.” Laney waited for him to comprehend what she was saying. He turned his head to the deceased Dead beside him. “I didn’t get to you fast enough,” she whispered as she cradled his head. “I tried, but I didn’t know until it was too late. I’m so sorry.” Her voice cracked and she bit her lip against a sob.

“Don’t do that, Laney. You can’t blame yourself for this. I don’t.” He swallowed and a far off look crossed his face. His chest rattled when he inhaled and it made him cough violently. “Why can’t I feel my arms and legs?” he asked when he recovered. “The others you tried to save said it hurt really bad. I don’t feel anything though. Does that mean I’m so new I can be saved?”

The hope in his voice shattered her already breaking heart. It was lucky that he couldn’t feel anything. The Dead had done a number on his body and most of his chest and abdomen looked like hamburger. The injuries were more than any human could survive.

“I think you broke your back when you fell out of the tree,” Mitchell said thickly. “That or the bullet broke it.”

It was the first time she had ever seen Mitchell cry. A tear slid down his cheek and made a small splat against Jarren’s arm.

“I can’t be saved then, can I?” Jarren asked.

She shook her head and stroked his cheek. “I’m sorry.” She was sorry for so many things. She was sorry she hadn’t stayed in that tree instead. That she hadn’t been there to protect him when the Dead found his body. And most of all, she was sorry she’d brought him back. So rarely did someone die as peaceful a death as Jarren had. He had gone virtually painlessly, and she’d brought him back to say goodbye, and then to die again.

Jarren coughed again and again, his body wracked with the effort to draw air into lungs that were filling with blood. “Let’s do this quick then,” he said bravely. “Laney, I love you, but you’re wasting time, and I’m guessing he isn’t the only Dead here. It’s still important to get you to a lab, do you hear me?”

She nodded, unable to speak for fear of making it harder on him.

“I will die happy if I know you’re safe. If I can keep the hope that you can end all of this suffering.”

“I promise I’ll try. I love you too, big brother.”

“I’ll tell Mom and Dad you say hi, okay? We’ll look forward to seeing you soon. Not too soon, though. I’ll have an ice cold beer waiting for you. Or maybe one of those horrible fruity drinks you used to like. The ones with the little umbrellas.” He chuckled, but it turned into an uncontrollable coughing fit. “It’s time, little sister,” he wheezed.

“I can’t.”

Mitchell aimed his gun at Jarren again. “I’ll miss you, man. You’ve been my best friend ever since I was a little kid. We’ve been through a lot together, me and you.”

Jarren smiled weakly. “We have. Take care of her, Mitchell. I’m counting on you guys.”

Mitchell nodded and stood, chambering a round in his rifle.