The Lola Chronicles (Book 2): A Day Without Dawn (13 page)

It was like something out of a Shakespeare play. And not one of those sappy Americanized versions where everyone lived happily-ever-after, but a real Shakespeare play where everyone drowned or went insane or murdered their loved one or committed suicide.

Real happy guy, that Shakespeare.

“Yeah,” I mumbled under my breath. “It’s pretty heavy. Watch that it doesn’t jerk in your hands when you shoot or else you’ll always be aiming too high.” Anticipating the bombardment of sound that was about to take over the playground I retreated all the way to the back of the elementary school. “Well?” I yelled when everyone just stood around looking at one another. “What are you waiting for? Shoot!”

Stevenson and Greg didn’t need to be told twice. Pieces of straw flew everywhere as they lit into their target, shooting until their pistols clicked empty. Livy and Becca followed suit. Becca only got one shot off before she grabbed her arm and cried out in pain but Livy, her jaw clenched with determination, kept firing until she’d made a pretty impressive hole in the middle of her plate.

Hunter went last. Spreading his thighs apart and squinting one eye he fired off six shots in quick succession. His aim wasn’t great, but it was a hell of lot better than mine had been the first time Maximus had brought me out here.

And there I went, thinking about Maximus again. Hair flew into my eyes as I shook my head in frustration. When would I get it through my thick skull that Maximus was Dead with a capital D? I didn’t know why he had been on my mind so much lately, but I wanted him
gone
. I needed to put him in the same place I’d put my mom and my sister, lock the door, and never open it again.  

“That. Was. AWESOME.” Jogging up to me with a wild grin on his face and a glint in his eye that was mildly concerning, Greg waved his gun in the air. “But I’m out of bullets. Where’s the ammo, Sanchez?”

“It should be in the shed. But no more shooting,” I cautioned. “I’ll show you how to reload and that’s it. We need to save what we have.”

Greg’s shoulders slumped. “Lame.”

“Practical,” I corrected.

Whoa. Never thought I’d hear
that
word come out of my mouth.

“Everyone come back over to the picnic table!” I yelled, waving my arm to get their attention. “Greg, can you go get the ammunition? It should be in boxes up on the highest shelf in the back of the shed.”

“Sure, but maybe after I could–”

“No.”

He blinked. “You didn’t even know what I was–”

“No.”

Scowling, he loped off towards the shed.

Livy walked up to the picnic table holding both shotguns. Becca trailed behind, still rubbing her shoulder, a mutinous expression on her face.

“You knew that was going to hurt,” she accused, glaring at me.

“Yep,” I said without an ounce of sympathy. “But you know what’s going to hurt more? Having a drinker sink his fangs into your neck. Toughen up, Becca. This isn’t cheerleading practice.”

She opened her mouth. Snapped it closed. Satisfied I’d won that particular argument, I waited until Greg got back with the ammunition before I showed everyone how to load and unload each gun.

“Guard your gun with your life,” I told them sharply. “Drop it and you’re dead. Lose it and you’re dead. Hesitate and you’re dead. Shoot first, ask questions later. Got it?”

When they all nodded in unison, even Becca, I bit back a grin. At least it was good to know that if I survived I would make one hell of a drill instructor.

“Cadets, march out!”

“A little too much,” Hunter said as he fell in step behind me at the back.

I slanted him a sideways glance. “You think?”

“Just a bit. The rest was good though.” He lowered his voice. “So what do you think our chances are?”

“Honestly?” I bit back a sigh. “I don’t know. No matter how many guns we have the drinkers are always going to be stronger and faster. If we’re lucky we might get off a few good shots. If not…” I trailed off. “But I think we might stand a pretty good chance against the zombies.”

Hunter cracked a smile. “You know how crazy you sound, right?”

“Yep.”

“It’s almost one now.” He checked his watch while I grinded my teeth in frustration because I knew what he was going to say next. Timing. It all came down to timing. The one thing I had absolutely zero control over. “If we’re going to give ourselves the best chance at success we should wait until tomorrow morning. Bust into the farmhouse at dawn, catch the zombies off guard, get everyone out and head straight for the mountains. That should give us at least an eight hour head start on the drinkers.”

“But we’ll be leaving them in there for another night.”

Hunter raked a hand through his hair, pulling the ends tight before letting it fall onto his forehead in a disheveled wave of blond. “What other choice do we have?”

He was right. As much as I hated to admit it, we would be signing our own death certificates if we attacked tonight. The zombies were dangerous, but at least they had weaknesses whereas the drinkers would tear us limb from limb no matter how many guns we had. Our best chance – our only chance – was to attack at dawn.  

“It’s the best plan,” I agreed reluctantly. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“I don’t either, but what else can we do?” He hesitated. “Do you think we need everyone? I mean, I get why Livy and Becca want in but Greg and Stevenson like Hayley about as much as you do and I don’t even think Ms. Siegel knows who she is.”

I thought of Rose. “They’re not doing it for Hayley. They’re doing it for their parents and their brothers and their sisters and anyone else they think might still be alive.”

Hunter shook his head. “That’s nuts.”

“No,” I said softly. “That’s love.”  

Dear Lola

After making a detour into
town to stock up on water, food, and fuel for the four wheelers, we got back to the gym a little after four o’clock. Starving, I headed straight to my duffel bag where I kept a tidy stockpile of junk food. While everyone else did their thing I slipped out through a back door and sat cross-legged on the grass, drinking in the sun while I stuffed my face with potato chips.

The next fourteen hours were going to be the longest of my life. My nerves were already humming with anticipation. I felt the same way I had before I went off to face Angelique.

Antsy.

Nervous.

Terrified.

There was no telling what was waiting for us inside that farmhouse. Drinkers. Zombies. Monsters we’d never even dreamed about. I just hoped we weren’t too late. I think I could live with it if my dad was dead. It would destroy me, but it wouldn’t kill me. After I fell apart I would find a way to pick up the pieces, no matter what it took. I would find a way to keep surviving. For him. For Travis. For everyone we’d lost and were still going to lose.

But if he’d been turned into something else… If I looked into his eyes and found something less than human looking back at me… I didn’t know what I would do.

Crumpling the bag of chips I tossed it aside and opened my last box of animal crackers. Ever since I was a kid I’d always had a soft spot for the sugary cookies. The zebra was my favorite. Fishing around in the box until I found one, I popped the whole thing in my mouth and bit down with a satisfying
crunch
.

Sorry little guy. Better luck next time.

I was nibbling the legs off an elephant when the door creaked open and Rose stuck her head out.

“There you are,” she said, sounding relieved when she saw me leaning back against the warm brick wall of the gym. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Have a seat.” I patted the grass beside me. “And an animal cracker.”

“Um, no thanks. I promised Ms. Siegel I’d help her with something. But I wanted to give you this first.” Extending her hand, she held out a neatly folded piece of white paper. “It was taped to the door by the playground,” she explained when I reached for the paper, my forehead creased in confusion.

“This is for me?”

“It has your name on it.”

So it did. Stomach clenching, I dropped the half-eaten elephant and slowly unfolded the paper. The last time someone had left me a note things hadn’t exactly ended all that well. But Angelique was dead, and even though she’d showed up in my dreams there was no way she could have written this.

Could she?

“What does it say?” asked Rose.

I read the note once. Twice. A third time. “It says…it says to go out to the bridge out behind the soccer fields.”

“There a bridge behind the soccer fields?”

“It’s out in the woods on one of the cross country trails.”

“You ran cross country?”

“No, I didn’t run cross country,” I snapped. Rose shrank back, her eyes wide and uncertain. Gritting my teeth, I reined my temper back in. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I just – did you see who left this?”

“No,” she whispered. “I just found it an hour ago.”

Leaving the box of animal crackers on the ground I rocked to my feet, dusted off the back of my green cargo shorts, and scanned the note one more time.

Lola

Come to the bridge by the stream.

I’ll be waiting.

That was it.

The note wasn’t signed.

It wasn’t even hand-written leaving me with no clues as to who had left it...or why.

My brain immediately leaped to a drinker, but no one knew my name except for Angelique and Maximus and they were both dead. Unless they’d told one of their friends, which wasn’t completely out of the question. But why wait until now? And what the hell did he…she…they…want?

“You’re not really going to go…are you?” Rose asked uncertainly.

I hesitated.

The new, improved, responsible Lola wouldn’t have gone. She wouldn’t have even
thought
about going. But the old Lola – the reckless, headstrong, irresponsible Lola – was all but chomping at the bit.

I wasn’t stupid. I knew it wasn’t a good idea. I knew it had ‘this is a trap!’ written all over it.

And yet…

“Yeah. I’m going.” I looked up at the sky, gauging the position of the sun, and then out across the soccer fields. It was four, maybe five hundred yards to the edge of the woods. Another hundred or so to the bridge. Even with a bum knee I could make it there and back again before dark.

I hoped.

“But – but you
can’t
.” Her hands twisting anxiously together, Rose stepped out of the doorway and onto the grass. The door closed behind her with a quiet
click
, sealing us both out. Now if we wanted to get back in we’d have to go all the way around to the front. “It’s much too dangerous. You don’t know who left you that note or why. They could be trying to kill you!”

“Or they could be trying to help me,” I countered.

“If they wanted to help you why not just meet you here?”

It was a valid point.

“Maybe they couldn’t. Maybe – maybe they’re afraid of someone.”

“Afraid of one of
us
?” Rose’s eyebrows darted together. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

I threw my hand up. “I don’t know why they left the note, okay? But I’m going and I need you to cover for me.”

“Oh no.” Rose’s freckles stood out in stark contrast along her nose and cheeks as her face paled. “I’m sorry Lola, but I can’t do that. Hunter will want to know where you are and–”

“Hunter is the
last
person who should know where I am. I won’t be gone for more than twenty minutes. Twenty-five tops. If anyone asks where I am just make something up, okay? I’ll owe you one.”

“I don’t want you to owe me anything. Lola, this is not a good idea.”

I grinned. “Since when has that ever stopped me before?”

Dead leaves crunched under my
feet as I stepped into the woods. I stopped and looked back over my shoulder, taking care to note how close the sun was to the tree line. By my best guess I had twenty minutes until sunset. It wasn’t a lot of time, but it would be enough.

It had to be.

I moved quickly and quietly between the trees, using memory to guide me. I may not have run on the cross-country team, but I’d spent my fair share of time hiding out in these woods when I should have been in algebra class.

Guess what, Mr. Hansler. That quadratic equation you said we’d be using every day for the rest of our lives? Turns out you were wrong. See, the drinkers didn’t really give a shit about math.

The only thing they cared about was blood.

I could hear my own blood roaring in my ears as I left the gym further and further behind.

Come to the bridge by the stream.

I didn’t need to read the note again, I did anyways. Pulling it out of my pocket I smoothed out the paper and scanned the neatly typed words. If it was handwritten I might have had a chance at guessing who had left it, but times new roman didn’t exactly give me any big clues.

Who had left the note? And why had they addressed it specifically to me?

“I’m here,” I called out as I turned in a slow circle, scanning the surrounding bushes and trees for any signs of movement. I didn’t see or hear anything except for the wind whispering through the leafy green branches and the faint gurgle of the stream. There should have been birds chirping and their unusual silence filled me with unease.

Someone was out here. The birds could see them even if I couldn’t. 

I slid my gun out of its holster and held it by my side, hand wrapped firmly around the grip, index finger curled lightly around the trigger. I’d clicked off the safety before I had gotten halfway across the first soccer field. Better to be safe than sorry, right? Even though marching out into the woods to meet a possible serial killer wasn’t exactly safe. It was stupid, one of the stupidest things I’d done since this had all started. I should have turned back then and there but for some reason I couldn’t explain I held my ground even as the sunlight filtering down through the trees started to weaken and dim.

With every breath I took I was pushing my luck. But I had to know who had written the note. If it was just someone playing games with me I was seriously considering shooting them out of spite, but if it wasn’t…

My heart gave an extra
thump
inside my chest as I began to slowly edge towards the warped plank bridge. It was ten, maybe twelve feet long and scarred by the cleats of the countless cross-country runners who had sprinted across it.

“Getting bored here.” My voice echoed in the eerie silence. Ignoring the pain in my knee I shifted my weight onto my toes. If it came down to it I was ready to fight. Part of me was even eager for it. I’d been waiting to do
something
ever since I found out the drinkers might be keeping my dad prisoner. This something may not have been the best idea, but it was all I had.

Lola, why are you meeting a stranger in the woods at dusk?

Because I can.

My shoulders tensed. I was ready. Ready for whoever stepped out of the woods.

Except I wasn’t.

I really, really wasn’t.

He appeared like a ghost out of the gathering shadows which I supposed was pretty fitting seeing as I saw him die.

“
You
.” My hand convulsed around the gun. I was so stunned I almost forgot what to do with it before my training kicked in and I point it straight at his chest. “You’re supposed to dead.”

He smiled. He actually freakin’
smiled
. “It’s good to see you again too, Lola.”  

Head spinning, heart racing, I found myself caught between two extreme reactions. Half of me wanted to spring across the bridge and jump into his arms. The other half wanted to shoot and keep shooting until my gun clicked empty. Because I knew that even though it looked like him and it sounded like him, it wasn’t
really
him.

Then again, it never had been.

“What the hell do you want?” Despite the erratic beating of my pulse I was proud that my voice remained steady. At least I sounded strong and confident even though I didn’t feel like it.

A black curl tumbled across his forehead as his head tilted to the side. With his tousled mane of inky black hair, piercing gray eyes, and solemn expression he looked exactly the same as I remembered. Now that I knew what he was, I couldn’t help but wonder for how
long
he had looked exactly the same. Twenty years? Forty? One hundred?

The corners of my mouth pulled back in a grimace. Did it really even matter? An age would only humanize him. I needed to be able to stare into his eyes and see him for what he truly was: a monster.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said quietly.

“Yeah,” I snorted in incredulous disbelief. Of all the things he could have said,
that’s
what he chose to go with? I was calling complete and utter bullshit. “I’ve heard that before. It wasn’t true then and it isn’t true now.”

“I’m serious, Lola.” He stared at me intently, his gray eyes swirling with emotions I didn’t even want to begin to comprehend. I didn’t want to understand
him. I didn’t want to hear his excuses. I didn’t want to listen to his side of the story. I didn’t even want to hear him speak.

My index finger tightened around the trigger of the gun. If I had to shoot him again then I would do it without thinking twice. Because even though the pain of my loss was no longer vicious and raw, I still remembered what it felt like. Just like I remembered who he had taken from me.

Someone who could never be replaced.

Someone who never deserved to die covered in his own blood.

Someone who still needed to be avenged.

“So am I…Maximus.”