The Apocalypse Fugitives Page 9

  All this led to the question: Did Neil and Sadie have days to spare while Grey gathered everything he'd need for a rescue attempt?

  Crap.

  "We'll do it your way," he told Jillybean.

  "That's good, because I was worried all your ways had to do with marching and I don't know anything about marching. You know what? I've never marched before. It looks very stiff, like a robot or something. I'd probably end up dropping Eve, which wouldn't be good. I think it would be better if I normal walked over to…"

  Grey glared until she shut her mouth with a click. "Marching was a figure of speech," he told her. "The first thing we need to do is find that Floating Island again. It won't be easy; there are a ton of coves all over this lake. They could be anywhere."

  Jillybean pursed her lips for a few seconds. "It'll be easy with a motorboat," she said, changing her grim look for a smile. "Don't worry, I'll help you find one."

  They started right away and other than watching over and entertaining Eve she wasn't much of a help.

  Finding enough gas took Captain Grey two hours. Finding a motorboat that would run took him another hour. Finding the Floating Island took Jillybean less than twenty minutes. When Grey was out searching for the gas, she had studied a map of the lake and had marked what she considered the top ten probable locations where they would find the Floating Island. It was tucked up on shore in the second spot on her list.

  They pulled up well in view but across the cove from the boats. Jillybean had Ipes squished under one arm and was jiggling one knee up and down, furiously as she stared across the water.

  Grey tried to give her a reassuring smile. "You'll be fine as long as you just don't mention that story of you sinking those two boats in New York, or the fact that you master-minded the destruction of New Eden. Just keep it light. Tell them we were just passing through and didn't want trouble but now we need help."

  "K," was all she said before hitching the peanut butter smelling baby onto her hip and setting off around the shore. She made sure to keep close to the lake just in case she had to evade a zombie and also so Grey could keep an eye on her.

  When she disappeared from sight around the far side of the Floating Island his heart was in his throat, however barely five minute passed before a sheet was tossed up onto the Christmas trees—their prearranged signal that everything was ok.

  Grey putted the boat over and banked it nearby. He then followed Jillybean's steps walking with his hands raised. He was greeted with suspicion and after being frisked, he was quizzed relentlessly by Shawn Gates, with Michael's wife, Marybeth shooting questions in every once in a while. During all this Eve was marveled over by the majority of the women while Jillybean sat eating from a bowl of rice and fish she had balanced on her lap and took in the proceedings as if she was watching Saturday morning cartoons. Frequently she would take a break from shoveling the food in her mouth to drink from a large glass of what looked like cold water. Grey, who was both thirsty and hungry, noted all of this with a touch of envy.

  Eventually, the questions concerning who he was and how they came to be there began to be repeated and he put a stop to the questioning. "Now it's my turn. I need answers," he said gruffly. "Who are these raiders and where can I find them?"

  All eyes went to Clara Gates. She dropped her chin. "You don't want to know. There's no getting your friends back, maybe you should just cut your losses."

  "You mean you want me to run and hide like you people?" Grey asked. Clara nodded with a tiny movement of her head. No one else would look up or contradict the harsh criticism in the simple question. "Running is not my style," he told them. "Confrontation is; now, where are they?"

  "The Piggly Wiggly in Warrior," she answered in a small voice. Clearly, this admission was a first. The group began whispering to themselves.

  "That's so close," Marybeth said in frightened awe.

  "Warrior? What is that? Is that a town?" Grey asked.

  "Yeah," Michael said, vaguely as if he was lost in thought. He wiped sweat from his brow and said, "It's a town out on route 31, straight east of here. It's only about fifteen miles away."

  Fred Trigg stomped forward, his face beet red from the sun and the heat. He pointed an accusing finger at Clara. "You should have told us where they were. Here we were thinking we were safe at last, and they were right there all along!"

  "Shut up, Fred," Shawn barked, getting in the man's face and glaring. "It wouldn't have mattered if we were a hundred miles away. You know that. They probably have all sorts of spies and patrols out. It's the only thing that explains how they've been able to find us before."

  "Yeah, it's not her fault," John Gates said, chiming in, coming to his aunt's defense. "I know I feel safe on this here lake. They haven't come close to finding us in three weeks and as long as we keep moving we'll be good."

  Grey tried not to roll his eyes at what he considered useless bickering. "I need my M4 back," he said, lifting his chin to Michael. The leader of the group had commandeered the weapon for himself.

  "Don't do it, Michael," Shawn said, stepping between his brother and Captain Grey. "That's a machine gun. I don't know if I trust this guy with a gun that could kill half of us in ten seconds."

  "Maybe you give him the gun now and the bullets later," John suggested.

  "Don't be an idiot," Grey said to the teen. "I need the gun, now. And I'm going to need to borrow one of those car batteries and any gas you can spare."

  "Which is none," Shawn was quick to say.

  "Maybe we should vote on it," Michael said.

  "You people are weak," seethed Grey. "You're going to vote on whether to do the right thing or not? That's pathetic! My friends have been taken by those raiders and I plan on getting them back."

  "By yourself?" Michael asked. Grey sized up the group and saw a bunch of frightened suburbanites, cowering in the shadows and afraid to live, let alone fight back. The only person on the boat that he would even consider taking with him was Jillybean.

  "Yeah, by myself," he answered.

  "Don't let him do this, Michael," Clara said. "We've been doing the right thing here. We've been safe. All he's going to do is stir up trouble."

  "She's right," Grey told them. "I'm going to stir up a whole mess of trouble. It's why you should be helping me and not slowing me down with all this babbling. Now let me have my gun!"

  Chapter 11

  Deanna Russell

  Illinois

  That second gunshot, strangely enough, ended the initial stage of the nightmare that had been the wild escape from the Island. Both trucks shuddered to a halt and seconds later Mindy ran around to the back.

  "What the hell are you guys shooting at?" she demanded. Blood wept from a half-scabbed cut across her forehead. There was more blood, a dark stain running down her arm—she didn't seem to notice. She was wild eyed and manic.

  "It was Deanna," Joslyn said. She was crouched down with the dead, no longer able to find anyone living to cling to for protection. "She tried to kill me and...and she killed Rachel."

  Mindy's eyes went wider still, but Veronica came to Deanna's defense. "That's not true at all. Dee gave her a warning is what she did. If she wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. Who misses from four feet away?"

  Deanna knew exactly who. Her mind had been so warped by fear and stress and grief that when Joslyn had callously said: One less mouth to feed, she had gone mad with fury. She had pulled the trigger with the intent to kill, but right before she had, she'd closed her eyes and ended up missing high, adding another hole to the green canvas.

  Now she was almost overcome with guilt. It made her weak; her muscles felt saggy and useless. If Mindy had pulled her out of the truck just then and beat her for her crime, Deanna didn't think she could muster the energy to do more than curl in a ball and take it.

  Mindy didn't know what to think. Her head was wagging back and forth as she tried to make sense of what was going on. After a moment, she climbed up the back of the tailgate using only
her one good arm and when her head cleared the gate, she let out a gasp at what she saw. She turned to stare at Deanna in horror.

  "What did you do?" Mindy asked.

  "It wasn't me!" Deanna cried. "It was the soldiers who did all this, I swear. I only killed Rachel, she's the only one."

  "Only Rachel?" Mindy asked in amazement. "How can you say you only killed Rachel? That's crazy. You can't just shoot...wait, everyone stay put and don't move. I need to get Bessy. She'll know what to do." She turned to climb back down, but Kay Gallagher, the woman who had been driving the first truck was right there shaking her head. There were tears and blood on her cheeks. "What? What is it?" Mindy asked her.

  Kay spoke like she was in the middle of a dream: slow and listless. "Bessy is dead. She's been dead for a while. I—I didn't know what to do so I kept driving."

  "No!" Mindy cried. "Oh, fuck no she can't be dead." She jumped down and ran for the first truck. She was only gone for a few seconds before she came back in a panic, pacing around the rear of the truck. "What do we do? Bessy always knew what to do, but I don't know."

  "We can't stay here," Veronica said. "You know the Colonel is going to come after us." Everyone looked back down the road afraid to see head lights cutting up the dark, rushing for them. Deanna got the shivers and held the warm pistol to her chest like it was a talisman.

  "Yeah, you're right," Mindy said, jerking her head up and down. "Ok I'll go in the first truck with Kay. Veronica, you ride up front with Melanie."

  Joslyn threw a fit over this arrangement. "No way! You can't leave me back here with Dee. I don't care what they all say, she tried to kill me." Mindy's panic was starting to escalate over the delay. She didn't know what to do or what to think and so she sent Deanna to sit upfront with her bunkmate, Melanie.

  It was a welcome change from the blood-covered hell that was the back of their truck and away from Joslyn and the corpse of Rachel, Deanna felt instantly better.

  "What happened back there?" Melanie asked. "With the shooting and all; was it stiffs? Did they try to climb in?"

  "Yeah," Deanna lied. They were silent while the trucks chugged their way up a steep incline. "Where are we going? Do you know?"

  "Right now, south is all I know. Mindy didn't tell me anymore than that. She was freaked, let me tell you." Melanie went on to describe how scary it was driving through the gates with bullets whizzing all over the place and everyone screaming and shooting. "It's a wonder any of us is alive."

  Deanna knew that not everyone had been lucky and that knowledge was starting to eat at her soul. She remained silent as Melanie, whose fears and hopes could not be stopped from being expressed went on and on. Deanna was glad for the patter and the distraction. If it hadn't been for Melanie's running mouth she would've been forced into thinking about sweet Rachel or poor Bambi, or tough as nails Jenny Fine who were growing cold in the bed behind them.

  She let the words wash over her as the miles slipped beneath their wheels.

  Eventually, they had to stop again. The women in the back of both trucks began shouting and pounding on the back wall of the cabs. Melanie went on talking, raising her voice to compensate. She was too afraid of being left behind to even consider stopping until the truck in front pulled over. When it did she turned off behind it.

  In the headlights, they saw Kay get out and unlock the tailgate of her truck as Mindy came up to Deanna's side of the second truck and said, "We got to figure some things out." She was pale from blood loss and the pain that was obvious with every grimace. Her voice was a whisper and it didn't look like she could manage more.

  Everyone who was able to climb down gathered near the back of the second truck where they shifted from foot to foot and eyed the ghastly array of blood, bodies, and brains in the bed. In the heap of bodies, someone was moaning.

  "Who is that?" someone asked in a very low whisper

  Jackie beamed her flashlight at the truck and said, "Karen Hasselback, my bunkmate. She's going to die, I think. She got shot pretty bad; she's covered in blood."

  "Stop talking like that," Mindy ordered. "And turn off the flashlight."

  "I don't have to," Jackie said.

  "What the hell is your problem? Don't you hear those zombies?" Mindy asked.

  Everyone cocked an ear and underneath Karen's dying sounds they could hear the low voices of zombies. Zombie moans were bad enough on The Island where there were men with guns and heavy banks of razor-wire to protect them, but out in the forest like that, exposed, the sound was sinister. Like sheep, the women edged in closer to one another.

  "Turn it off or leave the group. Go on, just start walking." Mindy pointed back the way they had come and after only a single glance in that direction, Jackie clicked off the light.

  "What an idiot," someone said.

  "Shush," Mindy snapped. "We don't have time for any of that crap. We have to figure out where we're going and what we're going to do with...them." He jerked her head toward the second truck. Of the thirty four women who had boarded the two trucks nine were dead and three more were on their way.

  The women looked around at each other; most did so vacantly with shell-shocked expressions, hoping that someone else would come up with a plan. The few who were coherent looked around for a different reason: they hoped someone else would say the obvious.

  Veronica heaved her heavy bosom and sputtered: "We could...we could, I mean we should put them out of their misery, you know? For their sakes."

  "Yeah," Joslyn said, "Deanna can do it. She tried to kill me already and she shot Rachel in the head."

  Deanna felt her insides shrivel as everyone turned to stare at her. "No, it wasn't like that," she said in a whisper.

  "We know, Dee," Veronica said. "Joslyn is just being a bitch."

  "How am I the bitch?" Joslyn demanded. "She tried to kill me and no one cares. You were there Veronica. You saw her aim her gun at me deliberately and shoot. That's attempted murder!"

  Veronica blew out a dismissive breath. "Please. You were being so out of line it's unbelievable and really, if she wanted to kill you she would have shot a second time, probably from up close. Right Dee?"

  With all the women staring with accusing eyes, Deanna thought she was close to fainting. The shadowed trees that marked a horizon of sorts against the stars looked like they were tilting first one way, then another, and the ground beneath her feet went light as if she was floating. She put out a hand and grabbed Veronica's shoulder to keep from pitching over. "Yeah," Deanna said, managing a nod. "I wasn't trying to kill her."

  Veronica held up her hands. "See? If she wanted you dead, you'd be dead, so shut up before she changes her mind."

  "What about Rachel?" Mindy asked. "Why did Dee kill her?"

  "It was an act of mercy," Veronica explained, rubbing Deanna's back softly. "Rachel was dying already and in pain, just like those ladies up in the trucks."

  Mindy was silent and deep in thought for a few moments before she took a long breath and said, "I think we can all believe that Dee acted rashly shooting a gun at Joslyn. I wouldn't call it criminal, but it's not something we should let go lightly. As punishment, I think Dee should be the one to put those women out of their misery."

  "Hold on," Melanie hissed angrily. "What about trying to help them? Since when do we just kill the wounded?"

  "Since we don't have access to a hospital or a doctor," Mindy snapped. "Gloria was our only nurse and since she's not here with us so that probably means she's dead."

  "She is," Joslyn said. "She was lucky. She died real quick."

  "There you go," Mindy went on. "She's dead so that means we're screwed, unless of course anyone knows something about medicine? You a doctor, Melanie? If so then get up there and get healing those ladies. If not, stop being a pain in the ass. We all knew this was going to be dangerous and we all accepted the consequences.

  Melanie mumbled, "Sorry," and then shrank back, letting the dark night conceal her embarrassment

  "It's ok," Mindy said. S
he waved away a mosquito that was humming near her ear and then looked again at Deanna. "I'm not the queen of the group so maybe we should vote on this. Who thinks Dee's punishment should be to, uh, euthanize those ladies who are going to die?"

  Hands went up; a few at first and then all of them. Mindy looked grimly at the hands and then said to Deanna, "Just remember, you'll be doing them a favor."

  Now the women stood back from Deanna, leaving her all by herself, making her feel like an outcast. "You have to believe me," she said, miserably. "I didn't mean to shoot at Joslyn. She was just being…"

  Mindy interrupted, "We don't have time for this. It was voted on by the group so either accept the decision or leave."

  Deanna wanted to puke again. It seemed to her that the baby she carried was dead set against the idea of more killing and was making her displeasure known in the only way she could express. The nausea made her so weak she wondered how she was going to climb up into the back of the truck. Just walking the dozen steps to the tailgate left her sweating and shaking.

  Although she was one of the tallest of the women, the gate was too high and her arms were too anemic. "I need…I need a boost, please. I can't get up by myself."

  Melanie appeared out of the dark and tried to help, but she was too small and frail. They were all somewhat frail. Each of the women had been chosen for their looks, not their abilities or strength, and not a one of them weighed above a hundred and fifteen pounds. It wasn't until Veronica came over to assist Melanie that Deanna was able to clamber up.

  It was pitch black in the back of the truck as if the darkness itself was casting shadows. Deanna squinted but couldn't make out one body from another, except Karen Hasselback that is. Karen was moaning so much like a stiff that Deanna's nausea left her and fear began to tremble her hands.