Murphy's Law (Roads Less Traveled Book 2) (14 page)

Michael straightened himself, smoothed his shirt, then shoved the unknown man aside on his way to the door. The guy grumbled about that, but one look from the dude behind the desk quieted him down quickly.

Yeah, must be the boss.

“Outside,” Michael mouthed and waited for me to leave, then followed me out into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind him. “I’m sorry about that. Some people have different opinions concerning how this situation should be handled.” He looked embarrassed. He pressed his hand to my lower back and practically pushed me down the hall.

“No, that’s okay. This is what happens when you get a group of people together, right?” I offered, a little perplexed over the manhandling. Was he worried about me being around those other men? That didn’t make much sense, unless said men had a problem with me and my people being here. Then it made a lot of sense.

“Hey.” I turned around and planted my hand on his chest, forcing him to stop and look at me. “What the hell is going on here?”

By this time we had walked all the way down to Shirley’s area, where she was now listening in on the conversation. Michael looked over at her and made a face.

“Stop your rubbernecking, Shirley.”

These two got along well, that much was plain. And I knew Cal, Martin, and Smith were Mike’s friends. Question was: Who were the other two men? Enemies, apparently.

“Well?” I prodded. Michael took a deep breath, looked at Shirley once more, then gestured for me to go outside.

“Let’s get something to eat. I’ll explain then.” He waited for the buzz-click before opening the door and walking out. I followed, waved to Shirley, and caught up with him just as he stepped out into the courtyard.

“How’s Zack?” he asked.

I filled him in on everything the doctor had said while we walked across the grass and towards the building opposite the Administration building, which I now knew housed the “Control Room.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

We went inside and made our way to the cafeteria. It was quiet in there, with the breakfast shift having ended a few hours earlier and most people off doing whatever new jobs they’d been assigned for the day. Most likely watch duty, considering the situation.

“Thanks.” I followed him back to the kitchen. “So what was the deal back there?”

He walked over and opened one of many tall, stainless steel refrigerators and pulled out two Pepsis. After handing me one he went over to a stand-up cooler and opened the glass door.

“Pie or cake?” he asked.

“Pie.”

“Chocolate or butterscotch.”

“Either, doesn’t matter. So what’s going on around here?” I was losing patience with his stalling.

He frowned and pulled out two small plates of butterscotch pie, shut the door, and walked past me into the main dining hall, snagging a couple of forks on his way out. I resigned myself to the fact he wasn’t going to talk until he was good and ready. He found a table over next to one of the windows and sat down, sliding my plate across the table. I sat in the seat opposite him and took the fork he was holding out to me. I opened my Pepsi, took a drink, and started eating. I hadn’t realized until then how hungry I was or how long it had been since I last ate.

“Things are getting a little… tense around here,” he said between mouthfuls. I nodded and kept eating, content on letting him speak and waiting until he was finished before asking any questions.

“That man who was sitting behind the desk? He’s Warden Harvel. Bad son of a bitch, so don’t cross him. You already met Cal, Smith, and Martin. The other guy, that’s Harvel’s right-hand man. He was a guard here at the prison, before all this happened. And as far as the two of them are concerned, they’re still in charge.” He stopped to take another bite of pie, then continued.

“They’re pissed because we let you folks stay here. They’re also pissed because you led that swarm right to us. Their words, not mine. No one here likes them, and for the most part, no one here listens to a damn thing they say. The only reason the two of them let me and the others run things for the most part is because they know they couldn’t do it without us. They’d be up a creek, basically. But anytime shit starts to get hairy, they come down on us hard. Especially Harvel. Mostly as a reminder of who saved our asses back in the beginning, but also to remind us that we’re all expendable.

“He could have his flunky throw our asses out of here in the middle of the night while we slept, and everyone else would be too afraid of them to stop it. So it’s a game that’s played every time an important decision has to be made around here. He pounds his chest, throws a few threats around, orders me and my guys to do this and that, then eventually lets us do what we wanted to begin with.” He gulped down the rest of his Pepsi and waited for a reaction to everything he’d just said.

I chewed my last bite of pie, took a couple swigs of pop to wash it down, then stared absently out the window. Prison politics, something I definitely didn’t want to get mixed up in. In my opinion, they should have ousted the Warden and his bitch a long time ago, but for whatever reason they had let them stay, and apparently had been paying for it ever since. On the other hand, I understood the blame Warden Harvel was placing on me. It wasn’t anything I hadn’t already thought at Zack’s bedside. I couldn’t start feeling sorry for myself, or rolling around in guilt that may or may not have been warranted. Things happened and now we had to deal with the consequences.

“Mike, what happened to all the prisoners?” I asked, watching his face closely. He had to have known that question was coming. This was a prison after all, so where the hell were all the prisoners?

He propped his elbow on the table and covered his mouth with one hand, looking past me vacantly.
Great, flashback time
. After a moment he spoke, this time in a low tone just above a whisper.

“That was another one of Harvel’s grand ideas. Long story short, Kasey, he had the useful ones released into the general population, which consisted of the Blueville folk and a few of us Army guys home on leave, and the rest were killed in their cells. Shot, execution style. Cal, Martin, Smith, myself, and a few others had just arrived, didn’t know what was going on or anything about the dynamics around here. Hell, we were just trying to stay alive at that time and get in contact with our superiors. Next thing we know, it sounds like a war in the cell blocks. Then his men—there were more then—hauled the bodies outside the fence and left them for the zombies. Except he eventually figured out that those things don’t eat dead people, only live ones. So he had them burned.”

My first impression of Michael being military proved to be true, and it was clear there was more to his story than what he was telling, but time was short. All I needed to know was that this Harvel really was a badass, and not in the good way. I waited for what I thought was a reasonable amount of time before asking my next question.

“So what’s going to happen to us?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s the plan for taking care of the swarm?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, once I know what’s going on with Zack, I’d like to be on the wall. Jake and Mia too. They’re skilled, and I’m sure you could use the extra guns.”

“I’d appreciate that. Nancy has been helping out in the infirmary. If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep her there for now. At least until I know what Harvel’s plans are for you and yours.” He was leaning against the table, his arms crossed, when Gus decided he’d had enough conversation and jumped up on the bench beside him. At Gus’ antics, Michael’s tension drained away, and he fussed over the drooling beagle.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me. I’ll let the other two know, check on Zack, then we’ll report back to you for assignments.” I stood to leave and called for Gus to come. He reluctantly pulled away from Michael, hit the floor, and trotted out. Little dude already knew his way around the place. I followed my dog outside.

* * *

“Blood pressure’s falling!” Nancy cried as she ripped the blood pressure cuff off his arm. The screaming of alarms and orders being shouted made it almost impossible for the doctor to hear her.

“Where’s that damn crash cart?!” the doctor yelled over his shoulder.

The old man was half-on, half-off the bed, pumping up and down on Zack’s chest, stopping only a moment to breathe into his mouth before resuming compressions. Another nurse, a young girl who’d been in training pre-Z, injected first one drug into Zack’s IV, then dropped the empty syringe onto the floor and grabbed another, her hands moving quickly and deftly as she injected it and listened for the doctor’s next order.

Another nurse, or maybe he was an orderly, came banging into the room shoving the crash cart in front of him. After bouncing off the doorframe, he wheeled it over next to Nancy and hit the juice.

“Charging to sixty!” She grabbed both paddles and frantically squeezed the lubrication jelly onto them.

The doctor slid off the bed and stood back with his hands in the air, as did the needle-toting nurse, just before Nancy slammed the paddles against Zack’s chest.

“Clear!”

* * *

“What the hell’s goin’ on?” Jake asked.

I gave him a puzzled look and started jogging down the long hallway towards the source of all the shouting: Zack’s room. I’d found Jake there earlier after my talk with Michael, just as I had left him, and finally coaxed him into having a quick lunch with Mia and myself.

But we were only gone half an hour.

A nurse slammed the door open and rushed out just as I got there, nearly taking my head off in the process. In those few seconds it was swung open, what we saw and heard was enough to knock the air from our lungs. There were beeping alarms screaming around the room, Nancy was shocking Zack, and in between those the old doctor was performing CPR.

“He was fine,” I muttered, my old friends Shock and Denial having decided to pay me another visit. I covered my mouth with one hand, and groped around for Mia with the other.

This isn’t happening
.
Not again.

“Come on.” Mia tugged on my hand. “Kasey, come on.” She pulled me away from the door, now shut, and slammed me against the wall across from the doorway.

“Look at me.” She got right up into my face and dug her fingers into my shoulders.

Jake was pacing back and forth, one hand nervously running through his hair and his other hand on his hip, eyes darting between me and the door.

“Listen to me, listen to me
now,
Kasey,” she quickly hissed.

My eyes met hers.

“In a few moments someone is going to come through that door and either tell us he’s okay, or give us the same old bullshit rhetoric doctors have been giving family members since the beginning of time.” She took a settling breath. “Remember our motto? Hope for the best, expect the worst? You have to do that now, you have to prepare yourself. Are you
hearing me
?”

“Yes…”

There were no tears, not yet. There was no anger, not yet. I not only heard every word she’d said, I had once said them to her, several years ago. I understood why she was telling me this: she was afraid. Terrified. They needed me as much as I needed them, and if I allowed myself to fall into an inconsolable pit of despair, what would happen to them?

If someone stepped through that door and told us Zack was dead, you bet your ass I’d be heartbroken. Not only had he turned out to be one of the closest friends I’d ever had, let alone an excellent marksman, he’d also become the one I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of my days with in this death-infested world. Long story short, I loved the damn guy. But Mia was telling me no matter what happened, I couldn’t allow myself to wallow in grief and forget the rest of my family. I couldn’t willingly sentence myself to the same type of death that had taken so many others during those days immediately following the death of the world.

I suddenly realized that, with the exception of Mia’s panicked breathing, the hallway was quiet. Jake had stopped his pacing and was staring at me, tears rolling down his face and his arms hanging slack at his sides. It was like someone had pressed the pause button on the remote, freezing everything and everybody in place, and every detail around me became painfully sharp and clear. I slowly moved my gaze from Mia’s wide eyes to Jake’s tear-filled stare. The noise and chaos on the other side of the door had ceased, and the comprehension that followed tore at my heart quicker than any zombie ever could.

The door opened and Nancy poked her head out. Her face contorted when she saw us, then she burst into tears and stumbled out into the hallway. Jake caught her and pulled her against him, silently wrapping his arms around her. She clung to him and heaved great sobs, her face buried against his chest, each long exhale a piercing cry of pain.

I closed my eyes and hoped for strength, but expected weakness.

* * *

I want to go home.

I sat next to Zack’s bed. He wasn’t in it of course; Nancy, Jake, Mia, and Michael had taken him away hours earlier. I assumed to bury him, or to stow him away somewhere, waiting for me to snap out of whatever funk I’d fallen into so I could attend the service. I was feeling sorry for myself, but I was also trying to grieve and come to terms with everything that had happened. I don’t just mean in the past twenty-four hours, I mean everything that had happened since those goddamned zombies rose up and set out to wipe the planet clean of everything living.