The Grace Series (Book 3): Dark Grace (19 page)

“Have a nice swim?” called out an ominous male voice.

Gus instinctively stepped in front of me, holding me back with his left arm.  Gus was the only one of the two of us holding a gun, and I watched in horror as he held his shotgun out to his side in some sort of expression of defeat.  I peeked at the man who had spoken and recognized him immediately.  It was one the guards from the compound from which we had escaped what seemed like an eternity ago.  He was sitting on the guard rail now, obviously waiting for us.  Like me and Gus, he bore telltale green streaks down one of his arms.  He knew, somehow, that we were like him.  Infected.  I could sense that somehow.

“
Ahhh, Gus, isn’t it?” asked the man.  “I see you’re just like us now.”  A grin spread across the man’s face, causing his eyes to crinkle.  Between the look in his eyes and the rifle in his hands, he looked evil. “Life’s a bitch, eh?”

“Ayup,” was all Gus said.

“Lay the shotgun on the ground,” said the man firmly.  “And send the girl out where I can see her. 
Bobby
!” he shouted.

A woman stepped down from the motor home.  I hadn’t seen her before that I could recall.  She was tall and lean with straight dark brown hair that came to her chin.  She was closer to Gus’ age than my own.

“What?” she barked.

“I found these two fuckers; they were down taking a dip in the creek.  They’re the ones that blew the garage at the compound and killed our comrades.”

Bobby’s eyebrows went up a notch.  “Oh really?”

I was standing beside Gus now, his left arm around my shoulders protectively.  My hair was still wet and I was starting to shiver.  I felt far too vulnerable wrapped in only a bath towel with no weapon to speak of.  At that thought, I felt Gus squeeze me reassuringly.

“Where’s the rest of your group?” asked Bobby.  Her voice was oddly deep, not at all matching her looks.

“Dead,” said Gus without hesitating.

The man stood, spit on the shoulder of the road, and shook his head side to side a couple times.  “I’m not so sure that’s true,” he said in a chiding tone.  He tapped an index finger against his temple and whispered, “I can hear you too.  The red headed woman and girl, sure, they’re dead as doornails.  He looked at me.   Ahhh, and your baby too.  Boo-fucking-hoo.”

His mentioning Molly caused intense anger to build within me.  He had no right to mention her.  I clenched my fists in rage.

“So, what should we do with them?” asked the woman.

“They don’t know where the others are.  They
think
they know.  So, let’s pack them into the back of the truck and take them there.”

“They’re naked,” snipped Bobby.

“Not our problem, babe.  Let’s get going so we can haul them all back.  We have some hungry dead fuckers to feed soon.”

The man waved his rifle in the direction of the small pickup.  Gus urged me forward, and I walked with him.  I assumed he had a plan, and so once again put my life in his hands.  I kept a hand at my chest, making sure my towel didn’t come unwrapped and fall down.  The morning sun was rising higher in the sky and warmed my face, but did little to calm my fears.  We finished the brief walk to the Toyota at gunpoint.  Gus, being taller than I, had less opportunity to see into the canopy window on the back of the truck.  The glass was dusty and smeared in a clear-white residue that had dried in streaks.  My body tensed as I peered deeper into the truck bed.  Inside was a creature that
frightened me to the core.  I couldn’t pick up any kind of signal from it, but was certain it was a Runner of some sort. 

“Bobby, open the back.”

“You got it.”

“I’m not getting in there with that,” I said sternly, attempting to back up.  I was met by the end of the rifle against my
spine.

“Yes, you are,” snipped the man.  “Now.  Get in.”

“It’s ok, darlin’,” whispered Gus.  “It’s restrained.”

The rotting monster was wrapped mid face to ankles in Saran Wrap.  It was almost comical.  It lay there barely moving.  I was shoved forward against the open tailgate and Gus reacted by spinning around; I could feel his anger surround me.

“Back off,” he spat in my defense.  His chest was met with the rifle, causing Gus to raise his arms slowly.  “C’mon, buddy, just let me get her in, ok?”

The man spat on the ground again and nodded.  “F
ucking fine.  Hurry up.”

“Zoe, climb in and just stay toward the tailgate
,” whispered Gus.  Our eyes met briefly.

Against my better judgment, I climbed onto the tailgate and scooted over, staying off to the side and rear of the driver’s wheel-well.   I did my best to keep myself covered and cringed when the man holding us at gunpoint looked me up and down.  If I had ever known his name, it was lost to my memory.  I didn’t care to know it now.  Gus climbed in behind me, situating himself opposite me. 

“Ok, Bobby, you’re gonna drive.  I’ll keep these two in line.  Get in and open the cab window.”

“Awe, c’mon, the stink will hit us.”

“Stop whining before I put you back there with them,” barked the man.

“Nice,” she said, rolling her eyes. 

He swatted her butt, probably harder than necessary, as she began her trek to the driver’s seat.  For the first time I found myself wondering just how willingly she was with him. The man slammed the tailgate shut, followed by the window.  The air inside the cramped space instantly started to warm, accompanied by the stench of something long dead.  I looked toward the cab when I heard Bobby slide the little windows open.  The cellophane wrapped corpse was writhing, now overly aware of our presence. 

“Gus,” I whispered.  “It has no eyes.”

The Runner was missing both eyeballs, leaving darkened sockets that were leaking murky ooze.  While I knew it was a Runner, it didn’t act like one.  It was weak and seemed to be dying.  The inside of the cellophane was smeared with death fluids that were seeping onto the rusting bed of the truck. 

“Try not to look at it, Zoe.”

I watched the man with the gun walk around the passenger side.  While he was mid-way, Bobby turned around and spoke quickly through the opening between cab and truck bed.

“I don’t want to be with this guy.  At some point I’ll pull over.  I can’t get away without help.”  She turned forward and started the engine as the man opened his door and sat down.

I looked over at Gus, who looked back without much expression.  His eyes warned me to stay quiet.  The sound of the passenger door slamming made me look forward.  The man was looking back through the cab opening, grinning at me in particular.  I avoided his eyes and looked down at my hands.  As the truck lurched forward, I began looking around for anything that might serve as a weapon.  The Runner had settled down with the swaying of the truck as it traveled down the highway, but was moaning beneath the plastic that was wrapped tightly over its mouth.  Something about the decayed creature, at least from the nose up, seemed vaguely familiar.  The smell was becoming unbearable, as was the heat.  Someone up front must have rolled a window down, giving us some fresh air but also causing a lot of noise.  I could hear the man and Bobby talking, but couldn’t understand anything.  Gus was busy unscrewing a makeshift clamp that was holding the canopy onto the truck bed.  There appeared to be two on each side, so I followed suit and scooted forward toward the cab as well.  It was easier for the man in the cab to turn around and see me with how we were positioned, so I kept my left arm on my chest to secure my towel while I used my right hand to work at the first clamp on my side.  Luckily, mine was a simple vice grip and unfastening was quick and easy.  Gus met my eyes and nodded almost imperceptibly in approval.

The wrapped-up Runner was lying closer to the cab of the truck and venturing near it was not on my list of fun things to do.  The last two anchors holding the canopy on, though, were looming above the animated corpse.  Gus scooted toward its head while I remained where I was.  I thought it best that only one of us move at a time as to not gain the attention of our captor.  Gus was busy loosening a piece of tie wire that anchored the front passenger corner of the canopy when the truck slowed and came to a stop mid-highway.  He shuffled back toward the rear of the truck and made himself look calm.

I heard the man up front asking Bobby why she had stopped.  Her answer I found funny, although I didn’t dare laugh.  She needed to go to the bathroom, or “take a dump” as she had snarled at the man.

Bobby was the first out of the truck and I watched as she walked into the nearby woods.  She had a wad of toilet paper in one hand, but no weapon.  I didn’t sense any dead at all, but considering I couldn’t “feel” the one right in front of me, I hoped we were alone and that she’d be ok.  The truck shifted as the man got out of the cab.  I could hear him peeing on the asphalt.

“Gus, what will we do?” I whispered.

“Let me handle it, ok?”

“Ok.”

Gus began pounding on the side of the truck, which instantly irritated the man with the gun.

“At least open the back so we have some air!” shouted Gus, who winked at me.

“Shut up,” grumbled the man.  “Bobby!” he shouted loudly.  “Pinch it off!”

“Just a sec,” I heard her call back in the distance.

“Come on, my girl’s gonna throw up if you don’t give us some air,” shouted Gus again.

I just sat there and watched him act.  Finally Bobby emerged from the woods.  I couldn’t see her face, just her midsection as she stood near the rear of the truck.

“We should let them out for some air,” she said quickly.

“They’ll live.  For now,” he chuckled.

“Zoe, start acting sick,” whispered Gus as quietly as possible.

I began kicking at the back window.  “Oh God!”  I yelled.  “Let me out!”  I followed the words with a shrill blood-curdling scream.  I wasn’t sure what else to do. 

“What the fuck?” cursed the man.

Gus chimed in.  “Oh God, get her out!  Now!”

Finally, the man opened the back hatch and tailgate.  Gus had positioned himself in front of me.  As he began scrambling out, I followed.  In the hustle, he strategically rushed the man, knocking the gun out of his hands.  I watched as Gus fell on top of the much smaller man, and began pounding his fist against the side of his head.  I slid out of the pickup, still clutching at the top of my towel.  My breathing quickened as Gus continued his assault, blood now splattering the roadway.  I looked at Bobby, who was standing back several yards, her hands covering her mouth.  Gus’ towel had long since fallen away, and he continued to beat the man, who no longer struggled.  I walked forward and picked up the
fallen rifle.

“Gus, stop,” I said.  It was as if he hadn’t heard me.  “Gus!”
I yelled louder

I looked at Bobby, who was still just standing there, watching.

“Gus!” I shouted again.  He stopped, his fist mid-air, and paused for several seconds, his heavy breathing audible.  “Gus, he’s gone.”  It was obvious that Gus had killed the man.  His skin was pale and blood surrounded his head. 

Gus stood and faced me.  His eyes looked wild, his hair rumpled, and the rest of him naked.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said.

“He’s moving!” cried out Bobby. 

I looked behind Gus and saw that the man was now sitting.  His telltale signature in my mind made for no mistake.  He was back, as a Roamer.  I readied the rifle that I held and aimed it at the zombie’s head.  I squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened.  The creature was quickly on its feet and shambling toward the closest of us: Gus.  Still full of rage, Gus turned and kicked the corpse until it was again on the ground.  I stepped around him, bringing the butt of the rifle down upon its head.  I repeated this until brain matter was spilled onto the roadway and the body was still at last. 

“Nice job, Zoe,” said Gus.

I looked up at him.  “Thanks.”

“Miss Bobby, much appreciated,” said Gus.  He leaned down to pick up his fallen towel, and covered himself.

“I should thank you.  He was crazy.  He picked me up outside of Marysville and seemed ok at first, but then things got weird.”

“So you weren’t a part of the compound?” I asked.

“No, and he didn’t tell me much about it.  Just that he and another were tracking, well, I guess you guys because you blew the place up.  They were going to take you to some new location where they settled down south of Tacoma.  Here, take my sweatshirt.”  She pulled her grey sweatshirt off and handed it to me.  “It’s not much but at least you’ll be covered.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking it gratefully.  It left her in a button-up blouse that was well worn and dirty from life in this world. 

“I wish I had more, but he never let us pack anything other than what we had on our backs.”

“Bobby, we’ll talk more later on, but right now I think we better move out.  I assume you want to join us?” asked Gus.

She looked tired, and still a bit in shock over Gus’ demonstration of skill in killing.  Perhaps from mine as well.  “Please.  I can admit I’m not the strongest on my own.”

“What about the Runner in the back of the truck?”  I asked.