Justice (26 page)

The trucks were quiet. They called no attention to us as we weaved down the crumbling streets of the fading city. I maneuvered through the back streets until I made it onto Canal Street. Once a bustling area of commerce and tourism, the street was a mess of detritus and the large houses stood dark and brooding behind their overgrown lawns.
 

I passed a red street car that used to be a common sight on this street. The old tracks had been refurbished and reinstalled so the people of New Orleans had more public transportation. What was once thought to be outdated was cherished and brought back after Katrina, and now it was forgotten again. The red paint, so vibrant only a year ago, was now faded, the windows broken, splatters of what might be blood peppered the sides.
 

It was tragic and yet fitting.
 

Canal Street led us back to the “Cities of the Dead” and the end of the street car line, where Lakeview began. I pulled around the curve, keeping an eye on Hannah’s progress behind me. So far, so good.
 

We were about to turn on Canal Boulevard, only a few miles from the base when I remembered at the last minute that this way was blocked, it had to be. If the interstate drop was underwater, the dip under the train tracks on Canal Boulevard would be under water too. I motioned out the window for Hannah to follow me into City Park. It was the long way around, but a less populated area so it might work out better.
 

I pulled onto the quiet road that ran parallel to City Park. It was once one of the largest urban parks in North America, now it was on its way to being a forest.
 
The great oaks that lined the street had been a pleasure for me, before the end of the world. Now, they looked ominous. Their reaching branches hid the dead and other menaces behind their thick trunks.
 

The park was overgrown, small trees jockeyed for sunlight, on the way to turning this stretch of land back into what it once was before people. The vegetation had overtaken the road in some spots, forcing me to drive onto the shoulder. As we passed the main area of the park and the large stadium that hugged the interstate and cut through the park, the number of dead roaming aimlessly along the side of the road increased.
 

The theory was they liked to go west. Most packs we’ve run into were heading west. They would be stopped here. The Orlean Avenue Canal ran from Lake Pontchartrain to the train tracks that cut through Lakeview. It was a large drainage canal surrounded by high levee protection walls. With the spillway gates now closed, there was only one way to go west, go around. It seemed to be too much for the dead, they wandered aimlessly in circles, confused. They would speed up as we passed, and start to follow us, but would trip in the high grass and weeds and get sucked into the boggy ground.
 

The ponds and smaller canals that lined the park were all over-flowing, turning this area into a swampy mess. It had once been a well-maintained stable which led into a golf course, now it was returning to the old ways. Marshland.
 

At the last spillway gate, I slowed and let Hannah pull to the side of me. There were two stern looking soldiers where there had once been two of my brothers. Hannah got out of her vehicle with her hands in front of her.
 

“Hannah Klink. We left with Murphey and Pratt a few days ago. You can verify us with Poche if you need to,” she said as calm as I had ever seen her. Their guns were pointed at her, frowns on their faces.

“I recognize you, you’re with Miller and James’s group, come on through. Where’s Murphey?” the solder asked at the last minute and Hannah’s features tightened. She shook her head and the soldiers dropped theirs to look at their boots. Nothing more needed to be said.
 

The one closest to us wrapped his hand around a rope tied to one of the plastic blocks and pulled it to the side. Hannah returned to her truck and the soldiers waved us through.
 

We rolled up to the base moments later. A tall brunette was waiting for us in the back parking lot. She had her hands gripped together nervously, but her face lit up when she saw the vehicles. It was Alexis. I sat in the driver’s seat as Alexis yanked Hannah out of the truck and pulled her into a hug.
 

I felt like such a voyeur, but I couldn’t look away. I watched as Hannah tentatively wrapped her arms around her friend and then the telltale shaking of her shoulders started. It must have surprised Alexis because she looked down with surprise at her friend, but she held on tight.
 

“How did they die?” I was startled by Poche at my window. He leaned in and took a look at the stacks of equipment behind me. “They radioed in from the gate. I tell ya, I didn’t expect this shit. Murphey was one of my best.”

I got out from behind the wheel and looked one more time at Hannah. She was being led away by Alexis. She never glanced back.
 

So this was what it felt like to be debriefed. It was tiring. I told the story of Murphey and Pratt’s deaths three different times. Once to Poche, then again to Zach and Blake and then again to Tammi Ryan. Luckily they didn’t want to know details about the rest of the adventure, but they did want to see what I had gotten and how we could hook it up. They had even poached a few panels while we were gone.
 

It was a fairly simple set-up and I showed them how to do a basic unit that would run a small appliance, realizing too late that I should have hoarded my knowledge - if I was the only one that knew how to do this, they might keep me around longer.
 

I hooked up the inverter that would feed the communications area and my head shot up when I heard the distinct sound of gunshots. At least five shots in quick succession. I looked around me for some kind of reaction from the people in the room. Nothing. I was being watched by one of the troopers who made it clear he was only here because he was ordered to be.
 

“Are we shooting at the dead now?” I asked.
 

“They ain’t shooting the dead, firing squad,
buddy,
” he drawled.
 

They were shooting my brothers. The ones they found guilty. Hannah had warned me.
 

“That’s the second one today. I watched the first trial this morning. Brutal. Went quick, the good ones are going to be tomorrow and the next day. Gonna put the girl on trial, the one that they are bringing from the island. Heard she went crazy and tried to kill Alexis, you know the tall brunette that has the Marines panting after her?” He looked at me, waiting for a response, so I nodded.
 

“Then they gonna put up your leader, Junior. If you ask me, a bullet is too good for that one.” Again he waited for a response, but my mouth had gone dry.
 

“Wonder when your trial is scheduled for?” He laughed and crossed his arms, jutting his chin out and staring me down.
 

I wonder.
 

FIFTY-TWO | Firing Squad

“Where are the boys?” I asked Alexis. We had pulled up chairs in the alcove of the main building. She had taken out a bottle of vodka she had claimed for herself. She poured a shot and pushed it in my direction as gunshots rang out in the distance.
 

“They’re in the trial.”
 

“We’re already doing it?” I asked. I grabbed the shot glass and knocked it back. It burned something awful, but the burn quickly faded to a nice warmth that spread over my whole body.
I had left him out there. I hadn’t even looked back. Making him pay for his stubbornness.
 

“Yeah, we started today, we’re doing two or three a day. The first one was found guilty. I’m guessing from the sound of that gunfire, the second one was guilty too.”
 

“Who’d they choose to be judges?”
 

“Blake, Zach, Poche, Ryan, Grace and a civilian that was with the troopers, called Phoebe. Romeo is filling in if Blake or Zach can’t do a trial, and Poche and Ryan have back-ups too.”
 

My whole body tensed up and Lex noticed it. I grabbed the bottle and poured two more shots, throwing mine back quickly so she would stop staring at me. I had been able to hold my liquor before Z, but there wasn’t much liquor left so I was becoming a lightweight. My head buzzed pleasantly.
 

“What are you freaking out about, you look nervous? I haven’t seen you this shaken up – ever. Did something happen with Murphey you’re not telling me?” She looked at me curiously and sipped her shot.
Who sips shots?

“So, they’re putting all the bikers on trial?” She raised her eyebrows when I didn’t answer her question.
 

“Yeah, all of them, Clara and two of the civilian men are also up to be judged.”
All of them.
She made a face, thinking I had reacted because she brought up Clara. Clara Clark, Blake’s ex-wife. Clara, the woman who tried to kill Alexis in some weird, misguided attempt to win Blake back. Clara, the reason Lex had been sold to the bikers and landed us in this mess. Lex shouldn’t have to even say that woman’s name.
 

“They’re not going to kill her, are they? I don’t see them doing that, fucking bleeding hearts. And I’m assuming Blake won’t be a judge on that one?” I asked, channeling anger over the ex, instead of the other emotions that wanted to take root. Anger was easier to deal with, I could work with anger.

Alexis shook her head and explained, “ Zach won’t either, Romeo is stepping in for the two of them. Putting it at a five person panel, so no ties. That will give her three hard-asses and two civilians. There is no one else that can judge her without bias, even Romeo is pushing it. He’s voiced that he doesn’t feel like he should. But they keep ignoring him.”
 

“Are you going to be there?”

“I have to be, I have to speak for her.”
 

“What do you mean?” I asked.
 

“The idea is that witnesses will speak for the accused, that’s how they’re deciding guilt or innocence. Whether you speak positively or negatively will sway their decision.”
 

“And if they’re guilty they-” I was hesitant to say it.

“Firing squad. Or that’s been the sentence so far. But it’s all been some bad shit. Zach told me about this morning’s trial, some guy named Eagle. Fucking sociopath. This gang was full of them.”
 

“Crap.” I poured another shot.
 

“Yeah,” she agreed and grabbed the bottle from me.