Chapter 91

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By four in the afternoon, we were already out of the door, geared up and ready, our stomachs filled with more of those powdered eggs, but Alfie managed to open a few cans of peaches, green beans, and corned beef that we also ate. We used the truck to drive to the mall.

"Good luck and watch your backs," Alfie said and gave us a thumbs-up as we clamored out of the vehicle.

"Don't get yourself killed," Jun said impassively.

"Oh, don't worry. I'm not planning to. Be safe out there," I said. I watched them drove off until they disappeared into a corner, their engines fading into the hot afternoon.

The street we stood on was quiet with no vectors around, but I could already imagine thousands of them in a matter of hours, shoulder-to-shoulder. I shuddered, my heart already pounding, just by remembering their unnatural growls and hunger for blood. A small blue jay flew overhead with a worm in its mouth, flapping in the air as if winking at me. I watched it land on a nearby branch. It was peaceful here, and it was a shame to ruin it later.

"Where to, Charlie boy?" Peter asked, clapping his hand around the boy's shoulder, causing him to flinch.

"Only a couple blocks this way," Charlie said, pointing at the street called Brusko. He wiggled out of Peter's grip.

Peter didn't let go of his shoulder and took the opportunity to step forward until his nose was an inch closer to Charlie's face. "If you're trying to fuck us up, I swear to God I'm gonna pull your head out of these pretty shoulders of yours, got it? Even if I'm hurt, I'll make sure to kill you first before I die."

I sidled in between them and gently shoved Peter off Charlie's face. "Oh, we don't doubt that, Peter. But for now, behave." Peter grunted and walked off.

I gave Charlie a look that if it came to that, I would not stop Peter from doing precisely what he just said. Charlie made a little whimper and started leading us down the walkway. It wasn't dar, and by the time we reached an intersection, we switched to the adjacent Driscoll street until we got to the Alphas' outpost.

"There it is," Charlie said.

It was a two-story building, a typical suburban McMansion for average people without taste or style, now with its once perfectly curated lawn grass unmowed, its too large windows barricaded shut. A little footpath had begun to form on the grass from the countless times people had walked through it to get to the gate leading into the backyard.

"Some Queen of Versailles shit that probably lives here," Peter commented.

"You mean Marie Antoinette?" Logan asked.

"That the queen who got her head chopped off, yeah?"

"That's the one."

I shook my head. "Yeah. Walmart Marie Antoinette. Come on, guys. Focus."

We went around the perimeter to come through the backyard by using the neighboring house. Charlie swore it was safe because they used the path as an escape route just if the outpost got compromised. It seemed to me like a security breach, but who am I to correct the Alphas when I lucked out on their stupidity. After all, we were only expecting to find one man inside.

"Are you going to kill him?" Charlie asked me as we entered the neighboring house.

Logan chuckled. "What do you expect us to do? Hold hands?"

"We'll knock him out," I said.

"Maybe," Peter mumbled as he passed by.

"Ah, ignore them," I said. "Though if he does try to kill me, well, that really leaves me no choice."

"Oh."

How many bodies is enough, Bren? I shook the faint thought away, keeping it hushed at the back of my mind.

We cleared the house just to make sure that there were no vectors inside. Better to be a little careful. Any surprising hiccups now would be a disaster. We moved toward the backyard. Up above the garden shed's roof, a wooden plank linked it to the wall.

"Alright, let's fucking do this," Logan pumped himself up, and then I felt a sting behind my lower back, particularly my butt.

"D-did you just slap me down there?" I asked.

Logan's eyes went wide. "Sorry, ah, force of habit."

"That stings."

"Want me to tap you gently then?"

"Um, gross. What's with you athletes and fascination of butts?"

"Uh, for camaraderie?" Logan grinned sheepishly.

"Now, now, I just thought you like it."

"Hey, enough of that. We have a job to do," Peter said suddenly, brushing between Logan and me, and sauntered toward the backyard wall. Peter gave Logan a dirty look before climbing up the shed and walked across the plank to the other side.

Logan leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Well, someone's got their head up their ass."

"That's just Peter."

"He hates me."

"I can't blame him after what you and your friends did. You ran him out of school. I think an apology's way overdue."

Logan frowned. "Yeah. Well, I'll have to apologize to him another time. You do know what he's going to do when I do it?"

"He'll say I accept?"

"Nah, I don't think Gauthier's the live-and-forgive type of guy. When I do apologize, he'll lord it over me like a fucking imbecile. Just you watch."

I paused, thinking about it, watching Peter hopped over the wall. "Well, maybe when his head is a little cooler."

"Yeah. I think that's better. I want to live first."

I climbed over the garden shed and walked across the wooden plank. Peter helped me down the wall, and fortunately, the landing was behind another greenhouse shed, hidden behind shrubs and decorative rocks. No one in the house would see us coming. Charlie and Logan came down after us. I pulled out the revolver while Peter and Logan checked their rifle's ammo. Each of them only had five rounds to spare. We didn't give a weapon to Charlie.

We moved on a single file with Peter leading us toward the sliding doors up on the raised patio. I almost tripped and fell over the drained pool, a seven feet drop that would surely crack my head open, saved only by Logan's reflexes.

"Almost," Logan grinned.

I looked down and found two bodies lying on the bottom of the pool, their twin-pupil eyes staring up the sky. "Fuck. Vectors."

"Dead ones," said Peter. We all looked up to the silent house. "You think..."

"Yup. Most likely," I said.

We continued our way to the door and placed our backs against the wall. Peter nudged on the handle, and the door slid partly open. He quickly reeled his hand back, waiting if someone had heard, but after a few seconds had passed, he gestured for us to get ready. Peter counted to three with his fingers and then went inside.

The house was quiet. Still, I put my gun up just in case, stalking toward the kitchen and checking inside. I didn't find anyone there. I signaled for the others that the room was cleared. I pushed Charlie deeper into the room as Peter and Logan checked the living room and another adjacent room (that turned out to be a second living room). All of them were clear. We met again by the foyer, hiding behind a faux pillar of stacked stones.

"It's awfully quiet, vector or not," Logan whispered.

"Yeah." I pointed up to the second floor. "I'll take point," I said.

I could smell the loosened bowels—of urine and fecal matter—as I reached the second floor. Blood was everywhere on the hall, splattered against the wall and ceiling. Chunks of flesh were scattered on the floor, and I almost stepped on someone's ear. All the blood led to the door at the end of the corridor, and they were all fresh. The attack probably happened only a couple of hours before our arrival.

Logan clasped his hand on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks. "Take it easy."

I nodded. "Yeah. Watch my back."

I began to notice that the door was slightly ajar, though it was clear someone had broken through with the specks of wood littered on the ground. Print marks of fists and hands were hammered against the wood panel. It was leaning slightly off, its hinges halfway bent, but there were no low guttural croaks that vectors usually did coming from inside. Still, I hesitated to open it right away, flanking the door frame while Logan took the other. Peter directed Charlie behind a console table as he took a knee, aiming his rifle directly at the door. He gave me a curt nod, signaling that he was ready.

I opened the door.

The first thing I saw was the gun pointed at me, and I immediately ducked behind the wall I was covering from. I only heard the unmistakable click of an empty chamber. Curious, I took a peek inside, ducking again as a gun was thrown at me, missing me by a couple of inches before it clattered to the ground toward Peter's shoes.

"The fuck?" I strode in, my gun raised and pointed it to the first figure I saw.

I found a man sitting against the wall across the open doorway, clothes soaked with his own blood. He had a bite on his shoulder, another one tore through his pants, and one nicked on his arm—all in all, he was a goner. At least four vectors were sprawled and tangled across the floor, brains and gore splashed on the walls, displaying their soggy mess of gunshot wounds through their skulls and torsos, some beaten with a hammer, which now lay broken beside him. The only thing I was impressed by was that he was still alive and that he hadn't bled to death. Or worse, he would turn into one of them.

I looked back at the empty gun in the hallway and realized he ran out of bullets before he could kill himself.

Charlie gasped. "Abel!"

Charlie was about to run toward the injured man, but Peter caught him. "Stay the fuck back," he warned.

"But that's—"

"I don't fucking care. You're not the one with a gun here. Go sit over there." Peter pointed at the only spotless thing in the room—a lounge chair.

I walked over to the window and peeked through the barricades to make sure no one outside heard our commotion. I didn't see any movement. Logan stood next to me.

"His backup should be here by now. It looks like he was attacked not long ago. He should have called this in," Logan said.

I pointed to a broken CB radio, which was mangled into pieces right beside the dresser. "I reckon the vectors must have knocked it down and stepped on it while he was fighting them off."

Logan looked down on the injured man. "Poor fucker."

"Yep."

"And we can't use the radio to listen in. Shit."

"We'll think of something." I turned to Charlie. "When's the next shift?"

"Um, by nightfall," he answered. He glanced at Abel worriedly. "Around this time of year, sunset will be around 9 PM."

I nodded. Nine pm is not too bad—just a five-hour wait.

Once the new guy arrived, we would dispatch him, take over his vehicle, and then drive toward the mall. I reckoned that the other remaining outposts would not suspect the Alphas' vehicle (with us inside) when we passed by them. However, I wanted to use their CB radio to listen in on their movements. But with it destroyed, we'll have to steal the one with the new guy.

"Okay, we'll wait until then. I gave Jun and Alfie orders to attack by dusk, so we have time. Someone should keep an eye out through the windows an hour before just in case one arrives early."

"I'll do that," Logan said.

"Okay. Meanwhile, I'll check around and see if there are no more vectors left in the house. Peter, will you go with me?"

I didn't think Peter heard me. He knelt in front of Abel, brow creased. He took the man's injured arm and inspected his bite and made a disgusted look. Then, I saw the knife. With one swift move, Peter plunged the blade under Abel's chin without hesitation. Blood oozed from Abel's mouth and nose, and it took only a couple of seconds before his body slacked and his eyes glazed over. Charlie screamed behind me. Peter took the knife out, wiped the blade over his pants, and slid it back inside the sheath. He looked up to me and shrugged.

"He's going to turn," he said.

"Jesus, dude!" Logan exclaimed. "What the hell? We could have-"

"We could have what? Waited until he becomes like them? No thanks. It's better to be done with him now than deal with him later." Peter pointed at the man's bites. "If he hadn't turned now, he will in a few minutes."

"He might be immune," Charlie whimpered.

"No one's immune," Peter said. "We'll keep on breathing longer if we accept that fact now rather than later."

"You don't know that," I said, wanting at the same time to beat him over the head. Then again, I had never seen an immune person before. But surely a percentage of the population should be resistant to this disease? The question is who? "I mean, statistically speaking..."

"And we shouldn't give a fuck. I'll continue to believe that until proven otherwise. So far, anyone who gets bit around us turns. And I'll kill all of them. One less vector out on the street increases our chances of survival." Peter walked toward the door, pulling out his rifle. "I'll check out the house. You lot stay here." He paused midway in front of me, sighing. "Sorry, you had to see that, but it had to be done," he said to me as if I was a child. It only annoyed me more.

I stopped him before he could leave the room. "I will be the one to look around the house while you clean up the mess you made."

Peter chuckled under his breath. "Fine. I'll just dump the body in the pool, and Charlie can help me carry him. There's no point in digging a grave. We won't stay here long, anyway. Well? Come on, Charlie. Help me with your dead friend."

Charlie gulped but said nothing further.

I cocked my head to Logan. "You're coming with me."

"And we're just going to leave him with Charlie?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

I looked back to where Charlie and Peter had crouched down in front of Abel a pace away. Peter looked up at me briefly and frowned. I walked away. "We've talked about it already. He knows what will happen."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you're still breathing."

Logan blinked. "Me? Why me?"

"I made him promise not to hurt you even when he wanted to. The first time he saw you in Albany, he already wanted to crush your head. I can't blame him when your face is so punchable."

"Ouch. I have been called strikingly handsome, you know."

"By kiss-asses and sycophants from school, and horny girls age fifteen to sixty?" I joked.

"Ah, that's not fair. I know I look good. I don't have to be told." Logan then flashed me that winning smile he always did for the yearbook: beaming, slightly crooked, one side curved upward, teeth perfectly aligned, head cocked a little back, and his dimples crinkling. I knew then that I stared at him too long because his smile turned into a shit-eating grin.

I quickly looked away. "Opinions, potato-pot-a-to. Anyway, he wants to be on my bad side. He has been on the receiving end, and I don't think he likes to go over that again."

Logan scoffed. "You did beat him up. Hell, I don't want to be on your bad side."

"Charlie will be safe with him. But shit, I didn't say Peter can't talk crap about him. I think that poor kid will just have to endure his bullshit."

"Well, now, thanks for asking me to come with you then. I don't want to hear any of that." Logan paused. "And why did you ask Peter not to hurt me? I can handle myself. Hadn't you seen how I single-handedly prevented those vectors from coming up a stairwell in New York?"

"Last I remembered, I was the one who saved your ass, and you almost got yourself killed."

"I'm choosing not to remember that."

I lightly punched him on the shoulder. "Oh. Ha. Ha. Well, it's not that I'm scared he'll hurt you; it's that I'm scared both of you will get hurt."

"But come on. We're big boys."

"And that's what worries me."

We finished searching through the house, and we did not find any more vectors.

Charlie told us more about the code that the scouts used: Two knocks, wait for a second, then knock twice again. The new guy would go through the side gates and into the backyard. They would then enter through the sliding doors, up the stairs to the second floor, and would do the knock signal on the bedroom door we were in now.

I spotted two problems. First, I made sure that Charlie and Peter covered the bodies in the pool with a large boat tarp, enough to hide them, and that they wouldn't arouse any suspicions unless someone deliberately looked down closely. Second, the Alpha would see the blood along the hallway, and he'd see that something had gone wrong. This meant we had to deal with him before he got to the second floor. I started planning about all our possible contingencies with the others.


——


It was already past six, three hours before the next scout would arrive, and I was already starting to get bored. I leaned forward from the sofa, feeling the minutes ticked by as I was left alone in my own thoughts. Frankly, I didn't want to be alone with them, and I was thankful when Logan joined me in the living room.

"Hey, I found something," he said.

"What is it?" I asked. I looked around but found no sign of Peter and Charlie. They were probably still upstairs, tinkering with the CB radio. Peter believed he could fix it, but I thought it was a waste of time. So far, I was proven right.

Logan wagged his finger. "Nah, I can't tell you. Guess."

"Um, do I have to?"

"Yes! Now, come on. I promise. You'll like it."

"Hm. I'll play. Um, is it, ah, bullet? Ammo?"

"What? No! Seriously? That's what you like?"

"Well, we severely need ammo since we're going to assault a heavily-guarded building..."

"Nope. Try again."

"Okay. Is it...a gun? No, wait. An antique gun."

"No! Get your head out of weapons or things that kill. Think big. Starts with a C."

"Ah, fine." What could it be? Hm. Starts with a C. Think big. My eyes widened. "Condoms?"

Logan looked horrified, his cheeks flushed red. "Hell no, man! It's chocolate! Where'd you get condoms from?"

"You did say think big, and it starts with a C."

"Well, yeah. But not that. Plus, who are you going to have sex with, anyway?"

"Ouch. Way to rub that on my face, Logan."

Logan's face turned serious. "Although...it is the end of the world. So there's bound to be lots of people wanting sex. You just gotta find 'em."

"Oh my god, let's stop talking about this. Anyway, just tell me what it is."

"It's Cadbury chocolate, you horny bastard." He laughed and threw the chocolate bar on my lap. "Aren't those your favorite?"

"Holy shit!" I immediately grabbed the wrapper, not bothering to hide the widest grin on my face. "I...Oh my god. This just made my day! Thank you!" I quickly unwrapped it and broke a piece and put it in my mouth. "Hm. Yeah...Oh, that's really good. Where'd you find it?"

"I found it in one of the nightstand drawers, hidden among some junk. I think whoever lived here forgot he even had those."

I looked at the expiration date, but it said it wouldn't expire until next year. Safe to eat, more for me. I stared at the wrapper. "Wow. It's been so long since I had any."

"I'm glad you liked it." I offered him a piece, and he accepted it. He plopped down on the sofa next to me. "Wowza. I'm kind of bummed no one's gonna be making chocolate for a very long time."

"I'll make it my mission to hunt every chocolate bar across the country. Maybe I can make one myself."

"I'll

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