What Remains_Reckoning (25 page)

Gunner grabbed her hand, heading for the main street. Morgan followed, praying Ham was right and the creatures hadn’t backtracked. They paused at the side of the building, footsteps sounding behind them.

Wolfe shoved Gunner. “Go! We’ve got this.”

Fear clawed at her chest as Gunner led her out, breaking into a run as they cleared the sidewalk. A few infected moved in the distance behind them, the path in front clear. Morgan glanced toward the alley, watching Wolfe and Ham kill more of the fuckers before slowly moving out, keeping a healthy distance from her and Gunner. Pain ricocheted inside her heart. Once they were safe, she was going to have a chat with the boys about scaring the shit out of her.

Gunner kept up the fast pace, obviously trying to clear the small town before they got boxed in, when tires squealed behind them. He slowed as he half-turned to look behind them, understanding dawning on his face a moment before he pulled her toward him, wrapping her in his arms and spinning around, putting his back to the south of the street. She had just enough time to see a flash of headlights before they were rolling across the pavement. Pain flared through her body, speckled dots flashing across her vision.

She groaned, Gunner’s body falling limp beside her. She tried to blink back the oppressing fuzzy feeling when hands seized her arms, yanking her upright. The road beyond flip-flopped as a wet cloth covered her face. A sickeningly sweet scent filled her head, making it feel strangely heavy. She pulled against their hold, not sure why she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Voices shouted in the background, the echo of more gunfire thrumming through her mind as the world faded.

“Gunner! Morgan!”

Gunner blinked, acutely aware of the intense pain in his head and shoulder, as voices shouted in the background. Pops exploded close to him, followed by a dull thudding sound. Tires squealed, the smell of burning rubber heavy in the air. He rolled to right, grunting as his arm shifted limply in his joint.

Footsteps pounded beside him then the press of hands on his torso. “Fuck, Gunner. Just stay down for a moment. Christ, can you feel everything?”

He shook his head, cursing. “Damn it. What the hell…” His breath left him on a hiss of pain. “God! Where’s Morgan?”

“Easy, buddy. But if you think you can stand, I’ll help you move. There’s still a shit ton of infected, and we’re nearly out of resources.”

Gunner fisted Wolfe’s shirt as the man lifted him up, shouldering most of his weight. Dots flashed across Gunner’s vision, the pain in his shoulder escalating. “Morgan? Where the fuck is she?”

Wolfe growled. “Bastards took her. I took one out, put more than a few rounds in the damn truck. Ham’s trying to run them down.”

“What? Shit then why are we…”

“Your fucking shoulder’s dislocated and you’re seeing triple, not to mention you’ve probably got enough scrapes and bruises you should get a damn skin graft. Concentrate on moving your feet. We’ll get her back. Promise.”

Gunner closed his eyes, not sure which emotion to latch on to. He’d let her down. Failed her.

Wolfe sighed. “It wasn’t your fault. That fucking truck came out of nowhere. Last damn thing we expected.”

“I should have shoved her out of the way. Should have gotten up in time.”

“There wasn’t any time, and she would have hit hard if you’d simply tossed her aside. You protected her with your body. As it was, I don’t think she touched the damn ground. But it looked like they sedated her before she’d regained her senses.” Wolfe grunted. “I’ve never seen someone get hit that hard. You scared me. Thought you were dead.”

“Feels like it.”

“I’ll set that shoulder once we’re safe.” He glanced behind him. “Fuck. They’re gaining.”

“Then stop dragging your ass.”

Wolfe chuckled, though Gunner could tell it was forced. He pushed through the pain, trying to pick up his feet more, ignoring the way the scenery shifted with every step, when Hamilton darted around a corner farther up the road, head down, arms pumping. He hadn’t cleared twenty feet when a large group of infected followed, the mass undulating behind the man.

Wolfe ground to a halt, checking behind them then scanning the rest of the street. “Shit. Not many options.”

“We have to find her. We promised.
I
promised.”

“We’ll get her back, and we all fucking promised. But we have to figure our way out of here to do that.” He huffed. “These bastards are closing in.”

Ham made a series of signals, skidding to a halt beside them. “Head for the trees. We might be able to lose them on the trail.”

Wolfe started off again, angling toward an alleyway, green pine branches waving in the distance.

Gunner swore under his breath as a couple of zombies stumbled up that corridor. “This is quickly turning ugly. Pop my damn shoulder back in, Wolfe, so I can fucking fight.”

“Do you seriously want me to stop to do that?”

“I’m no damn good like this.”

“You’ve got a concussion and probably cracked ribs and shit. You’re in no condition to fight. Just stay conscious. Ham and I will deal with this.”

“We’re dangerously outnumbered.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.” He grimaced as Ham knifed the creatures, darting forward to retrieve the weapons, only to have half a dozen more appear at the far end of the alleyway. “Shit!”

Gunner exhaled, searching for a possible solution, when the squeal of the tires pierced the air again. Wolfe turned, looking as if he was going to launch himself at the vehicle, when an arrow struck one of the zombies closing in. It hit the ground as another dropped, the dull crack of its skull bouncing off the walls.

“What the fuck?” Gunner squinted, the landscape still shifting.

Another arrow slammed into the ground behind them, flames flickering in the wind. More landed in a semi-circle around them, close enough they formed a substantial wall of fire. A blur of motion stopped behind the horde, a silhouette appearing above the moving mass. More arrows mowed down a line of infected, opening up a corridor.

“What the hell are you waiting for? Move your asses, boys!” The woman’s voice sounded above the grunts and growls.

Wolfe glanced at Gunner then started forward, weapon at the ready. The woman kept drawing, killing any that got close as they ran toward the vehicle, Ham knifing those that broke through the barrier.

“Aggressive group, three o’clock.” Gunner hit Wolfe’s shoulder. “Help her.”

Wolfe released Gunner’s waist when the woman launched herself off the top, rolling across the hood before kicking two of the creatures in the head then knifing a third as she jumped off the vehicle. She spun, killing the two she’d kicked before reaching into her vest. A flash of silver gleamed in the sun as a series of knives flew through the air, hitting the infected on either side of them.

She smiled. “Now would be good.”

Wolfe muttered under his breath, grabbing Gunner again and shuffling them forward. She kept the corridor open, darting around to the door once they were clear. Wolfe stopped at the rear door, shoving him in, before popping three more zombies then jumping inside. Ham dove in behind him, slamming the door shut.

The engine revved as the vehicle spun, taking out a swath of creatures as the tires found purchase on the asphalt and lurched the machine forward, pushing them into the back of the seats. The eerie sounds faded into the steady hum of the road as they picked up speed, leaving the town behind them.

One of the people in the front turned, his face wavering in the sunlight. “You’re late.”

Chapter Seventeen

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Hamilton shook his head. “Cogan?”

Cogan placed a hand on his chest. “That hurts, Hamilton. It almost sounds as if you’re surprised to see us.” He shook his head as he glanced at the other two men. “See, Sully. I told you they’d get all defensive—a bunch of firemen saving their asses.”

“I agreed. It was Jake who seemed to think they’d be happy to see us.”

Cogan sighed. “You owe me twenty, Jake.”

“Back pocket, buddy.”

“Hate to break up the fun, but… What the fuck?” Ham glanced around the car. “How did you guys find us and who the hell is Xena?”

The girl looked at them, humor lifting her mouth. “Xena? That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Easy, sweetheart.” Cogan leaned over and kissed her. “Gunner, Wolfe and Ham were a bit removed before the world ended, let alone now. And as for how we found you…”

He nodded at Sully. The man tossed something at Wolfe, grinning when it landed in his lap.

Wolfe picked it up, snorting as he shook his head. “You found my damn bracelet?”

Sully chuckled. “Right where you left it, jackass. So thanks. It gave us a starting point. Let us know we were on the right track. We would have come this far sooner, but we got rerouted on another mission.” He held up his hand. “Trust me. That can wait until we get back. But while we’re at it…” His mouth curved into a loving smile. “Guys, meet Harper.”

Gunner grunted, repositioning his shoulder. “Charmed. Now do us a favor and turn this bitch around. We’re not heading home yet.”

Jake glanced at him in the rear view. “Excuse me?”

“They took Morgan. We have to get her back.”

Jake raised a brow. “Morgan?”

“Just stop the damn Hummer. And for fuck’s sake can someone slam my shoulder back in place?”

Jake pulled over, double-checking each direction before opening his door and moving to the back. He yanked the rear car door ajar, leaning in. “This is going to hurt.”

“Like I don’t fucking know that. Just do it.”

Jake shrugged, nodding to Wolfe. The man braced Gunner’s torso as Jake grasped his hand, counting to three then rotating it out as he pushed it back, the loud pop sounding through the vehicle. Gunner cursed, pounding on the seat as he growled another series of words before cradling his elbow, tentatively rolling his shoulder.

Wolfe dropped his hand to Gunner’s waist. “We good?”

“Fucking perfect.” He released a raspy huff, visibly easing back against Wolfe, allowing the man to shoulder some of his weight. “Ham. Any luck with that truck that plowed into me?”

Ham grimaced. “Black. I got a partial plate, not that it’ll do us much good. I lost sight of it just before the intersection. But it’s got to be one of Beau’s.”

Harper leaned over the front seat. “You talking about that camp four hours from here? Barbed-wire fencing? Red-neck boys?”

Ham edged forward. “You’ve been there?”

“We stumbled upon it a while back then staked the place out for the past week. The guys figured that’s where you’d be. But when they finally let me go have a peek, all I found were your packs. They’re in the back by the way.” She raised a brow. “Sully insisted we check every damn dot on the map within a few hundred miles.”

Ham glanced from her over to Cogan and back. “You took a
peek
?”

She shrugged. “It used to be part of my job description.”

Ham chuckled. “Shit. You three got involved with an operative?” He shook his head. “Now that’s poetic. You MI6?”

She grinned. “How’d you know? Most figure me for the CIA.”

“You do covert ops long enough, you can tell. You an assassin?”

She scowled. “Why does everyone think I’m an assassin?”

“The arrows, knives…the way you killed those four after rolling across the hood?”

Cogan huffed. “That’s right. I thought you promised not to do anything fancy?”

“Baby, that wasn’t fancy.”

Cogan gave her a raise of her brows. “We’ll
discuss
that later. Did you see the truck at the camp?”

“If Ham tells me the plate number I’ll know whether it came from there or if it might have been parked in one of the other two towns we checked.”

Ham stared at her. “You remember all the plates from the camp and the towns?”

“Details keep you alive in my business.”

“Fuck, lady. You’re something else. First three letters were DFG.”

“Black GMC, four by four, late nineties model, ending numbers five, seven, two. It was behind the main residence at that camp. Looked well taken care of. There was mud on the tires so they obviously use it.”

Ham looked at his buddies then back to her. “Don’t suppose you know which room belongs to Beau?”

“He that arrogant ass that walks around as if he owns everything? Far bedroom, corner right, at the back.”

“Just how much of a
peek
did you take?”

“As much as I could. There was one barn I couldn’t properly access without disposing of four men. But I overheard them talking enough to know you’d busted out of there so I didn’t bother with it.” She rubbed her hands on her arms. “Place seemed overly creepy, even by my standards.”

Ham groaned. “You have no idea. Might be good you didn’t look in the barn, though since we’re going back…”

Gunner tapped Jake on the shoulder as the man slipped in behind the wheel. “Drive. We’ll explain on the way. Just know this… Morgan’s our first and only priority. And we’re done asking nicely. If any of them have touched her…”

Jake nodded. “Understood. Not that the three of us would try and stop you guys. We’ve seen you fight and we’re not that crazy.”

Gunner’s gaze shifted to Harper.

She lifted her hands palms up. “Don’t look at me, soldier boy. I’m just here to see their asses come back in one piece. Whatever vendetta you have isn’t my concern.”

“Then drive. Time to see how brave these bastards are without their truck.”

* * * *

Morgan rolled her head, groaning as pain shot through her temples. The room rotated when she opened her eyes, the colors washing into a dull gray. Memories scratched at the edge of her consciousness, while warning bells went off in her mind.

She blinked again, finally focusing on the far wall. Two large windows covered the area, long, velvet drapes obscuring the view beyond. Recognition rushed back, and she inhaled sharply as the images rearranged into a coherent sequence. The zombies, the truck. Gunner limp on the ground. The sickeningly sweet scent smothering her. Panic ran like ice in her veins as she tried to move her arms, only to realize they were tied to the bed.