0692672400 (S) (25 page)

She couldn’t be sure, but Faith looked like she was smiling widely as she got closer. The young woman had upgraded to a bigger boat now that she would be driving six extra bodies back to the oil rig instead of just Lara.

“What about Mercer?” she asked Hart.

“What about him?” Hart said.

“When did you figure out he wasn’t who he said he was?”

“That’s the thing. I can’t really say if he ever actually lied to us.”

“No?”

Hart scrunched his face in thought, his graying hair rising and falling against the cool wind. “He gave us everything he promised, and in return we gave him our loyalty. It wasn’t like he demanded it. We gave it to him willingly.”

“You still think you had a choice?”

Hart sighed. “Maybe not. Maybe it was one of those unspoken trade-offs. Whatever it was, I don’t think he ever lied to us. He might not have told us everything, but in the early days, as we were preparing for what the younger guys called R-Day, I don’t think most of us—or maybe it was just me—fully understood what he was asking us to do.”

“Slaughter innocents…”

“Yeah,” Hart said quietly, as if that one word drained all of his energy.

One of the five men behind them walked forward and waved at Faith. He was young, with short blond hair, and was beaming as Faith approached them.

James, I presume.

Lara looked past Faith at the
Ocean Star
waiting for them in the near distance. She ended up staring at the towering crane, which looked like a stray limb poking out of the sea. If she stared hard enough, she thought she might have spotted something moving around up there. But of course it could just be the bright sun playing tricks on her eyes.

“Riley told me there was a guy named Peters up there,” she said, pointing at the crane.

Hart nodded. “Uh huh.”

“He said Peters never misses.”

“He doesn’t.”

“First time for everything.”

Hart smiled. “Not with Peters.”

15

GABY

W
HATEVER CONFIDENCE
Benford and Fritz had while they assaulted the bank fizzled when their number was halved, with Kip and Justin likely dead somewhere out there. How else would Mason have gotten his hands on their radio?

Gaby couldn’t help but look down at her watch every few minutes. Nightfall came fast in Texas in the winter, and it would be pitch-dark by 5:30 p.m.

And right now…1:46 p.m.

Time flies when you’re outgunned.

She looked across the bank lobby at Fritz and Benford crouched at the front of the building. Fritz was peeking out of the hole in the wall while Benford moved from the still-intact front doors to the remaining windows. At some point during his back and forth, he took out his ham radio and spoke into it. He kept his voice low, as if he knew she was eavesdropping, but because of the short distance, she managed to hear snippets of the conversation anyway. Benford did most of the talking and she caught the words
ghouls
and
torch it
before he turned the radio off and slipped it back into his pack.

Gaby exchanged a look with Danny, both their backs against the island counter. They were close enough to see the empty street outside but far enough to stay out of the path of any stray bullets. Hopefully, anyway.

She mouthed at him,
“Did he say ‘Torch it?’”

Danny nodded.

“What did he mean?”
she mouthed.

Danny shrugged and she swore he mouthed back,
“Tacos,”
but that couldn’t have been right, because it didn’t make any sense.

She gave him a questioning look and he grinned, and she thought,
Dammit, Danny, this is no time for one of your stupid jokes.

She sighed and looked forward at Fritz and Benford. Somewhere beyond the hole between the two men was Mason and who knew how many collaborators. Either he had finally gotten the reinforcements Benford had been waiting for, or Mason had left with enough men to take both Justin and Kip out. Either way, Mason was out there and he had the upper hand, because there was no way for them to leave Gallant First Bank without being shot.

She glanced back at the hallway and at the door on the other side of the dark passageway. What were the chances Mason didn’t already have someone waiting in the back alley just in case? The man was an opportunist scumbag and a dozen other unlikeable things, but the one word she would never use to describe him was
stupid
. But just in case Mason did decide to come through there, she and Danny had helped Fritz blockade it with a heavy metal filing cabinet from the manager’s office. It had bought them some goodwill, and, hopefully, further convinced Mercer’s men that they were on their side.

The silent lull inside the lobby and outside in the rest of Gallant was unbearable. In the aftermath of Mason’s mocking radio call, he had gone uncharacteristically quiet. When she looked over at Danny, he was staring at the pile of weapons resting in the corner across from them. Fritz, near the left side of the opening, stood in their way, but he was so focused on what was potentially outside that she wasn’t even sure if he remembered they were still in the room with him and Benford.

When Danny looked over at her, she shook her head and mouthed,
“Too risky.”

He nodded, agreeing.

“Any other bright ideas?”
she mouthed.

He shook his head, then shrugged before turning back to Benford and Fritz, and said out loud, “Um, guys?”

“What?” Benford said without bothering to look back at them.

“Don’t wanna be a downer here, but you are aware that the reason they’re not attacking is because they don’t have to, right?”

Fritz looked over his shoulder at them. “What’s that mean?”

“You know something we don’t?” Benford added, also looking back now.

“All those fresh ghoul nests in town that you saw while you were picking your way here,” Gaby said. “Remember?”

“Aw, fuck,” Fritz said. He shot Benford a quick, worried look. “They’re right. We’re sitting ducks in here. Those fuckers don’t have to come in to get us; if we’re still here when it gets dark, they’ll be the least of our problems.”

“I’m open to suggestions,” Benford said.

“The uniforms,” Danny said.

“What uniforms?” Fritz said.

“The ones in the office.”

“The dead guys?”

“That’s them.”

“What about them?” Benford said.

“The first thing you learn in the towns is that the ghouls respect the uniform. Hey, men in uniform, who doesn’t like them, amirite?” When neither Fritz nor Benford said anything, Danny continued: “Point is, they recognize the uniforms and steer clear. I don’t know how or why; they just do.”

“He’s right,” Gaby said, picking up where Danny left off. If they were going to play the collaborator-turned-defectors, she might as well embrace the role, too. “They told us to always keep the uniforms on at night, especially when we’re outside the town limits. It’s always worked.”

“Always?” Fritz said doubtfully.

“Always,” Gaby nodded, and thought,
Probably.

Benford and Fritz exchanged a look, but from their mannerisms she could tell that neither men were convinced.

Danny must have seen it too, because he said, “Don’t think of it as wearing a dead man’s clothing. Think of it as putting on a dead man’s stink to keep back the wolves.”

“I got a better idea,” Benford said. “The Jeep.”

“The Jeep?” Fritz said.

“We get in that Jeep, and we take our chances on the road. Blast our way out of here.”

Gaby exchanged her own look with Danny and saw that he was thinking the exact same thing:
“Are these guys serious?”

When she glanced back, Mercer’s men were grinning at each other as if they had just won the lottery. She didn’t know why she expected men who were going around Texas killing everything that moved to be open to logic, so it made some kind of warped sense that they would prefer to go out in a blaze of glory.

And our luck just keeps getting better…

“Fuck yeah,” Fritz was saying. “We’ll drive it right down their throats.”

“Can’t be too many of them out there,” Benford said. He sounded as if he was trying to convince himself and Fritz. “Maybe a half dozen, if that.”

“You sure? They did take Kip and Justin…”

“They could have sneaked up on them. We assumed they’d left the city, but what if they didn’t? What if they were just hiding out somewhere else in town when we hit the bank?”

“That’s possible, I guess.”

“We just need to find the key.”

“The key?” Fritz said, as if he didn’t understand the concept.

“For the Jeep,” Benford said, and peeked out at the vehicle in question still parked on the sidewalk outside, so close and yet so, so far away. “It wasn’t in the ignition when I was out there earlier.”

Danny turned to her, and Gaby saw the spark of something in his eyes—not mischievous, exactly, but there was
something
there.

Before she could ask him, Danny said to Benford and Fritz, “Whoever was driving it probably pocketed the key when he parked.” When the two men looked over, Danny jerked a thumb over his shoulder and at the back hallway. “It might still be there.”

“Worth a shot,” Benford said to Fritz.

Fritz frowned. “You mean, go through the bodies?”

“Don’t be so squeamish. They’re already dead.”

“That’s not helping.”

“I’ll give you a hand,” Danny said.

Fritz got up and jogged, slightly hunched, across the bank.

Danny started to get up, but Fritz pointed the muzzle of his AR at him and said, “You stay here.” Then, at her, “You come with me.”

“I thought we were besties now,” Danny said.

“Not quite.” Then, when he saw that Danny hadn’t sat back down,
“Sit down.”

Danny did, while Gaby got up and followed Fritz into the back hallway.

As she went, she sneaked a look back and saw Danny watching her. He nodded, as if to say,
“You can do it,”
and she thought,
No I can’t, Danny, no I can’t,
but she returned his nod anyway, because there were no other options she could see.

Gaby turned around and glimpsed Fritz just before he disappeared through the first door in the back. She followed him and sucked in a breath and steeled herself for what was waiting for her in there. For some reason, dragging them into the room earlier—she could still see the dry bloody trails they’d left behind, leading all the way from the lobby—hadn’t affected her at all, but the prospect of seeing them again…

Stop it. You have work to do.

Focus!

Like the manager’s office in the back (where Nate was sleeping, blissfully oblivious to everything happening around him), there were no windows in the room, but there was still just enough light to see with once her eyes adjusted to the new environment. Semidarkness or not, there was no way she wouldn’t know about the bodies at the back, because she and Danny had put them there.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Fritz said as he grabbed one of the dead men and pulled him off the pile to rifle through his pockets.

“What ideas?” she said as she got ahold of a heavy man with a mustache. The
thud!
he made as he landed on the floor made her wince. She’d had a lot of experience with bodies these days, but she still had to fight back against her gag reflex.

“That’s a good girl,” Fritz said.

She didn’t bother responding and instead shoved her hands into the dead man’s pockets and rummaged around them. She found a pack of gum and spare 5.56 shells. The man also had random supplies in the pouches around his waist, but the ones designed to carry ammo were already empty, their contents currently sitting in one of the lobby corners right now along with all the weapons. She tossed the useless items and lifted the man up from the floor just enough to go through his back pockets.

“Gaby,” Fritz said.

“What?”

“That short for something? Gabrielle?”

“Does it matter?”

“Just making conversation.”

“Don’t feel like you have to put yourself out.”

He chuckled. “Come on; we’re on the same side now. Or what, you’re taken or something? You and the California surfer?”

“We’re just friends.”

“Ah,” he said, and she thought,
Jesus, is he flirting
with me?

The thought further nauseated her, especially given where they were and what they were doing at the moment. She was still trying to decide how to feel about Fritz’s comments when her hand touched cold steel in the dead man’s back pocket. She quickly wrapped her fingers around it and pulled her hand out.

“Nothing,” Fritz said. He was working so close to her that she could smell his sweat as he reached over and pulled another body toward him, handling the dead man as if he were a (heavy) bag of flour. “You get lucky?”

“No key yet,” she said, turning her body slightly so more of her back was to Fritz.

She opened her hand and looked down at the folded pocketknife. The handle was about four inches long, which meant the hidden blade would be around three inches or so.

There is a God.

She had been prepared to do this the hard way, by getting her hands on one of Fritz’s weapons—either his sidearm or the knife in a sheath strapped to his left hip. It wouldn’t have been easy; Fritz was bigger and stronger, and despite the element of surprise, she would have had to get really, really lucky. There would have been a lot of noise, maybe even a gunshot, and Danny would be at risk.

But what else was new? They were all at risk if they did nothing.

“Maybe it’s not here,” Fritz was saying. “Wouldn’t that be a kick in the balls? Might have to shoot our way out of here on foot. I guess that’ll be fun, too.”

Fun? That’s one way to put it.

“Other guys got into this because they believed in the cause,” Fritz continued, oblivious to what she was doing next to him, “but me and Benford? We just like the excitement. Be all you can be, right?”