Rotter World (9 page)

Chapter Thirteen

“I wonder what it’s like out there.” Ari stated it not as a question but as a way to fill the gap in the conversation as she loaded 8 millimeter rounds into the ten-cartridge magazine.

“Same as before,” responded Leila, “only much more hellish.”

“How so?” asked Doreen, brushing a long strand of red hair out of her face and back behind her ear.

“There are no people out there now.” Leila looked up from loading ammunition into a Mauser magazine. She had a pretty face, with emerald eyes and dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders, but her expression had hardened, the result of her experiences before arriving at camp. “Right after the outbreak, you could find survivors all over the place. It didn’t matter if they were friendly or not. They were human, and when we were out there we didn’t feel alone. Most of them didn’t survive the last eight months, so when we go out there tonight we’re entering a dead land. Literally. There’s nothing out there but rotters.”

“You’re a cheery bitch.” The comment came from Stephanie, the oldest member of the Angels.

“It’s true,” said Leila.

Stephanie cleaned her Mauser, never once looking at Leila. “Stop trying to undermine morale.”

“You have a problem with the truth?”

“The truth is you have no clue what it’s like out there.”

Leila threw the half-filled magazine into the box of 8 millimeter rounds. “Considering what I went through out there—”

“We’ve all heard it before. ‘I had to fuck ten guys a night every night in order to survive’.” Stephanie slid the Mauser’s bolt back into its stock and locked it in place. She laid the rifle across her lap and glared at Leila. “We all have a story to tell, you just don’t hear the rest of us dwelling on them.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Yes, it is. I watched my husband turn into a rotter and attack my son, and had to kill both of them. Sandy lost her entire family on the Brooklyn Bridge when the Army blew it up. Tiara made it all the way from Boston on a broken leg. We’re all carrying emotional baggage.”

Leila refused to let go. “You don’t have any idea what I went through.”

“We do.” Josephine, a petite young woman of Asian descent, pushed the last round into a magazine. She motioned to Amy who sat beside her. “Both of us also traded sex for security. We decided, for whatever reason, that it was better to be a whore than a rotter. We made our own hells, but we made those decisions on our own. Some of us made terrible decisions, and others didn’t have a choice.”

Most of the Angels cast a sympathetic glance at Sarah who had spent nearly five weeks with a rape gang before the living dead attacked the group, giving her a chance to escape. She still bore a deep, three-inch scar across her left cheek where one of her attackers slit her with a knife for not cooperating. Sarah pretended to concentrate on filling her magazine, though she did lower her head slightly so the sandy hair fell across the scar.

“And it doesn’t bother you?” asked Leila.

“Every fucking day.” There was no anger in Josephine’s voice, only sorrow. “I think of my husband and whether he survived the outbreak, and what he would say if he ever found out what I did to survive. And then I hope he doesn’t find me, even if he is alive, so he’ll never know what I’ve become.”

Stephanie stifled back a tear. “I never knew that.”

“Because I don’t talk about it. None of us talk about our experiences. They’re too painful.” Josephine sounded almost pleading when she turned to Leila. “You shouldn’t dwell on it either.”

Leila opened her mouth to speak, but she bent her head and sobbed instead. Emily, who sat to her left, wrapped an arm around Leila and pulled her close. Her southern accent added a soothing quality to her voice. “It’s okay, honey. We all have demons haunting us. It’s the bond that keeps us so close to each other. Right?”

Emily glanced over at Stephanie, hoping for support.

“Right,” said Stephanie, relieved at finally bringing the awkward moment to a close. She patted the Mauser in her lap. “That, and our kick ass fighting skills.”

“Yeah, but we still have a long ways to go before we’re as good as One Shot over here.” Josephine leaned over and nudged Amy.

“That’s true,” said Ari, pushing her eyeglasses back up her nose. “Ever since we stood up the Angels, you’ve been able to take down a rotter with a single shot. How did you get so good? Were you a hunter before this?”

“Never fired a gun before in my life,” Amy responded as she pinned her long blonde hair into a ponytail with a rubber band. Raising her Mauser, she aimed it at a point on the opposite wall and sighted down the barrel. “Whenever I line up a rotter, I just pretend it’s one of the guys I used to fuck in the biker gang. Works every time.”

“Hell,” said Bethany, who at nineteen was the youngest member of the Angels. “If it’s that easy, I’ll just picture my first boyfriend who dumped me when I wouldn’t put out.”

“My ex-husband,” chimed in Virginia.

“Both my ex-husbands,” added Katie with a chuckle.

Leila still sobbed against Emily. Emily squeezed her arm gently. “Who are you going to picture?”

“Probably me,” said Stephanie with a good-natured grin.

“No.” Leila snorted back her tears and ran a hand across her eyes. The hard expression had softened, making her look vulnerable. “It’ll be my mother-in-law.”

Doreen chuckled. “She can’t be that bad.”

“You never met my mother-in-law.” Leila looked up, a forced smile on her face. “That woman was so mean, she could scare off rotters.”

The fourteen women around the room laughed. Not that they found the joke especially humorous. They all realized they needed to bond and reaffirm their camaraderie for what lie ahead.

* * *

Natalie crouched down outside the blockhouse, far enough away from the open window so none of the Angels could see her, but close enough so she could listen in on their conversation.

Leila’s outburst bothered her, and not because of the tension it caused within the group. It was impossible for fourteen people to live in constant close proximity to each other, especially under these conditions, without tempers flaring. No, Leila’s outburst was merely a symptom of something more troubling. As Josephine said, every one of them carried demons as a result of the outbreak. And everyone dealt with those demons in their own way. But no one had exorcised them yet, and those inner tensions were more of a threat to the camp than a hundred rotters. Hell, even after pinpointing the problem, she could not bring herself to come to terms with her own guilt over losing David and to act on her feelings for Robson. She was not sure that she could.

“If I got caught spying on your girls like this, they’d call me a stalker.”

The voice startled Natalie. She whipped her head around to see Robson standing behind her. “Jesus, you startled me.”

“Sorry.” Robson crouched down beside her. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I’m just worried about them, that’s all.”

“Because of the fight?”

“No. There’s a lot of pent up emotion among my girls.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. They’re the best fighting force in camp, thanks to you.” Robson placed his hand on Natalie’s shoulder. It felt pleasant, even through the leather jacket. For a moment, she wondered what his touch would feel like against her naked skin.

“What about you?” she asked, trying to draw him out. “What demons are you fighting?”

Robson withdrew his hand and became sullen. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Are you afraid of digging up bad memories?”

“I’m afraid you’ll think less of me.”

“I doubt that. If it wasn’t for you leading the raiding parties, none of us would have survived this long.”

“Thanks.”

Robson did not pursue the matter, so Natalie dropped it. Laughing from inside the blockhouse caught her attention. She looked inside, relieved to see the argument had ended and the girls joking amongst themselves.

“I’m concerned about how they’ll handle this trip.” Natalie stood up and brushed dirt off of her knee. She strolled toward the sea wall overlooking the ocean, with Robson walking along beside her. “This is the first time they’ve traveled this far from camp.”

“It’s the first time any of us have. But all of your girls came from out there, some as far away as New York and Pennsylvania. They have more experience with what we’ll encounter than us locals do. I wouldn’t worry about them.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I usually am.”

Natalie flashed him a flirtatious smile, though she doubted he saw it. They stopped at the sea wall and looked out. Without a moon, darkness enveloped everything. She could barely see the whitecaps as the waves crashed against the base of the wall a hundred feet beneath them. A year ago, prior to the outbreak, you could trace the outline of the shore off in the distance by the lights of the numerous coastal communities. Now water and land merged into a single black void. All the lights had long since gone dark, and not even a fire burned to indicate where humans once lived.

In a few hours, they would be entering that unknown void.

Chapter Fourteen

People began gathering in the motor pool twenty minutes before midnight, both those going on this mission and those bidding them farewell. Paul and Elena were among the first to arrive. Paul refrained from giving a speech or offering a last minute pep talk. Instead, he wandered among the vehicles, shaking hands and wishing everyone luck, working the crowd like a politician outside a polling station pimping for votes. Much less comfortable with such public displays, Elena hung back, quietly offering best wishes to her coven.

Seemingly oblivious to the commotion around him, Hodges walked the drivers around their vehicles and showed them the latest innovations. His team had welded extra foot-long spikes along the bottom and sides of each window in the truck’s cab to prevent rotters from getting at the drivers. They also had reinforced the mountings for the truck’s plow and the school bus’ cowcatcher, giving them extra support if they had to push out of the path something more substantial than rotters, and checked the welding on the grates that covered the school bus windows. In addition, four floodlights had been set up on the front of each vehicle.

The Ryder truck was only recognizable by its yellow cab. Working like banshees, Hodges’ team had completely transformed it, welding metal plates onto three of the cargo bay’s sides and the roof, turning it into a mobile safe haven for the vampires. Two rows of blackout curtains covered the rear of the bay to prevent sunlight from entering when they opened the rear door. Inside, four hammocks strung across the width of the bay provided a haven for the vampires during the day.

By ten till midnight, most of those going on the mission waited at the motor pool, already having stored their gear and weapons in their respective vehicles. Compton arrived last, with Colonel Thompson and Jennifer in tow. As Paul and the doctor exchanged a few last words, Robson moved among the group, telling them it was time to go. One by one, they said their goodbyes and boarded their vehicles.

Daytona climbed into the cab of the dump truck, closing the door behind him. O’Bannon joined him in the front seat. Caylee crawled up the side of the bed, took her position in the forward gun mount, and strapped herself in. She flipped off the safety on her AK-47 and made sure she had easy access to her ammo bag.

Whitehouse pulled open the front door to the school bus to allow entry to Natalie and the Angels, Tibor, Sultanic, Tatyana, and Jennifer. The Angels each took a window seat at the rear of the bus, leaving the aisle seat available to place their Mausers in case they had to reach them quickly. Each Angel wore a melee weapon attached to their utility belt for use against any rotters that got in too close for them to use their rifles. Most of them preferred either the bayonet that came with their rifles or an eighteen-inch crowbar. Sarah and Emily bucked tradition, opting for a machete and a hunting knife, respectively.

Whitehouse walked around the exterior of the bus, checking all the emergency exits to make certain they were secured from the inside, and then climbed into the driver’s seat.

Robson drove the armored car that served as the convoy’s command vehicle, with Compton joining him up front to help lead the way, and Dravko and Thompson taking the smaller travel seats in back. Mad Dog manned the Ryder, with Rashid riding shotgun.

One by one, the engines thundered to life before settling into an idling rumble. As the vehicles warmed up, Hodges led his motor pool crew over to the main gate. As two of the men stood on either side of the entrance, M-16 assault rifles raised and at the ready, a third man unlocked the gate and swung it out of the way. Hodges cautiously stepped outside the compound onto the main road, scanned the area, and visibly relaxed when he saw no rotters nearby. Raising his right arm into the air, he pumped it up and down several times.

Hodges closed his eyes against the glare as sixteen floodlights and four sets of headlights switched on at once, bathing him in white light. He stepped aside until he bumped into the gate post and stopped.

With a hiss of air brakes and the revving of its diesel engine, the Mack lurched forward. It passed slowly through the gate. Hodges gave a thumbs up to his friend Daytona, who returned the gesture by tipping his NASCAR hat. The truck climbed the slight incline and swung right onto the road, slowly moving off into the night.

Whitehouse followed two hundred feet behind Daytona. Several of the Angels waved to Hodges as they passed by, a nervous gesture to cover their trepidation over traveling into the unknown. Natalie turned to check on Robson, who followed a hundred feet to the rear in the armored car. He returned Hodges’ salute as he passed through the gate.

Mad Dog shifted into first gear and stalled the Ryder, not properly compensating for the additional weight of the metal plates. He turned over the engine and tried again, this time giving the truck more gas. The Ryder lurched forward and threatened to stall, but Mad Dog pushed harder on the gas pedal. Gaining momentum, the truck moved forward. He shifted into second gear as he passed through the gate, taking the time to nod at Hodges.

Barely had the Ryder turned onto the main road when Hodges closed the gate behind the convoy and secured the locks. Those left behind filtered back into the fort, a feeling of anticipation for their comrades hanging heavy in the air.

Only Paul stayed behind. He walked over to the gate and watched as the Ryder’s tail lights disappeared around a bend in the road, silently praying that this would not be the last image he had of his raiding party.