Dead: Winter (34 page)

“The sign up sheet will be on the wall tonight,” Juan called over the man’s head. “There will be a page for this run and for the other jobs that need doing.”

With that, the crowd began to disperse. Troy stepped down to leave and paused a few steps from the porch. He turned to Juan, “And I was a minister before…so if you care to have a wedding, I’d be happy to perform the ceremony.” He smiled big and no
d
ded his head at Juan and Mackenzie.

“Tight like a tigah!” Mackenzie exclaimed as she planted a big kiss on Juan’s cheek.



Chad opened his eyes and found a familiar face peering down at him. It took him a few seconds to recall the name, but finally, it came.

“Hey, Scott,” he said and instantly regretted it. Even the sound of his own voice made his head hurt. He tried to sit up and that is when he discovered that he was tied down to a bed. Loo
k
ing down his body, he saw several cords in place to keep him from getting up.

“Seems you had a busy day,” Scott said. He reached over and picked up a glass of water that sat on the nightstand beside the bed. “You thirsty?”

“Where is Ronni?” Chad said in as calm a voice as he could manage.

“Just relax.” Scott set the cup back down. “I already sent for her when you started stirring, she’ll be here any second.”

“Those bastards—” This time Chad began to yell. It was too much and he shut his mouth and let the throbbing in his head subside.

“Chad,” Scott placed his hands on the man’s shoulders, but he looked uncomfortable doing so, “I know you are pissed. All sorts of insanity has been going on since you had your little kil
l
ing spree—”

“They were raping my daughter!” Chad insisted. This time he didn’t care about the pain.

“Yeah,” Scott nodded. “We got that part figured out. But there was a lot of confusion early on b
e
cause some of the folks know about your time in prison. They thought
you
had raped somebody.”

“What?” Chad struggled against his bindings.

“Just ease down, dude,” Scott pressed on Chad’s shoulders more firmly. “That piece of garbage Mitch Rose is tied down…and in much worse condition than you thanks to Brett and a few others.”

There was a nugget of satisfaction growing in Chad’s belly, but that still didn’t explain why he was tied down, too. If they knew who the real culprit was, then why tie him down?

“You probably want to kill that guy, don’t you?” Scott looked into Chad’s eyes. He saw the a
n
swer that Chad could not conceal with mere silence. “
That
is why you are still tied up.”

“But that is my daughter—” he began.

“Yep,” Scott nodded, “and we saw what you did to the others. Nobody is sayin’ you ain’t right, but there is still a grip of folks who think like this is the old days. They want a trial and all that crap.”

“A trial?” Chad exploded. He quickly winced and even retched a little as the pain sent bright flashes across his vision.

“Don’t worry,” Scott said with a smile. “He has already been found guilty, and as soon as they pick the jury, it will be official.”

“Wha—” Chad tried to figure out what Scott meant, but at that moment the door burst open and his daughter rushed in.

“Daddy!” She ran to his bed and knelt beside him. She kissed his cheek and laid her head on his chest for a few seconds as she sobbed.

Finally she had cried herself out and sat up. Her gaze took in the bindings like she was seeing them for the first time. She glared at Scott. “Take these off…
now
.”

“Just relax, Ronni.” Scott stood up, patting the girl on the shoulder. “We will get your dad out in a few minutes. I want to do this on the up and up so the few bleeding hearts don’t get their panties in a bunch.” With that, he left the room.

“Like hell,” Ronni hissed. She produced a knife and made short work of the cords. “Everybody says you killed those guys…cut their throats.”

Chad wasn’t sure how to reply. It was true, but would his daughter see him as a monster for ha
v
ing killed men in cold blood? And how much had she been told? The killings were gruesome and violent. Would she be appalled at his ability to commit such violence? She had trouble with the killing of zo
m
bies.

“Yes.”

The word hung in the air for what seemed like forever to Chad. He sat up slowly, scooting back as he did, so that he wouldn’t crowd his daughter. He watched her face and tried to figure out what was going on behind those eyes.

“Thank you, daddy,” Ronni whispered and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

Chad sat still, afraid that any movement on his part might break the spell and return them to the way things had been. He felt her shudder slightly and then heard her whimpers. Wrapping his own arms around his daughter, Chad held her. In that moment, he realized that was really the first time he’d been able to do so since he’d gotten out of prison. There had been a wall there that he couldn’t cross and she wouldn’t lower.

He felt his own eyes well with tears. When the door to his room opened, he couldn’t make out who it was at first. Finally, his friend Brett’s face came into focus.

“The jury has been picked,” Brett announced. “Scott wanted me to come warn you that there are a few people demanding that you stand trial for killing those guys as well.”

“What?” Chad and Ronni both exclaimed.

“Don’t worry,” Brett assured them. “It is a small number and once the details on that Mitch guy get out in the open, they’ll back off.”

“Are you sure?” Chad asked. He’d already had experience with the court system, and despite the rinky-dink nature of this one…trial was still trial and there was no such thing as a guara
n
tee when it came to verdicts.

“Chad Meyers?” Two men stepped inside the room. One had a pistol in his hand; the other held a set of handcuffs. They took a look and immediately went on guard; it seems they e
x
pected him to still be tied to the bed. “You are under arrest for murder.”



“What have you done, Sam?” Darlene let the rubber glove snap into place on her left hand. Her eyes flicked over to the di
g
ital countdown. She would have exactly one hour before the chamber went into “sanitation” mode.

One of the chapters in the stacks of manuals they’d been given by whoever set up this little bu
n
ker complex detailed what the protocols were should some of the “test subjects” get loose. It was probably written with the optimistic point of view that the situation in the general population would be contain
a
ble…eventually. Now, a few more zombies more or less made very little difference. Still, in one hour, gas would be pumped into the room and jets of flame would ignite the air. Basically, she would be incinerated along with everything in the lab.

She didn’t plan on taking longer than the hour. What she needed would take half that, tops. They’d used up their subject too quickly. The ten bodies kept alive on support systems had each been infected one way or the other in the first month. Of course, in their defense, none of the three scientists figured to be down in this bunker for longer than a month.

Scooping Samantha into her arms, she laid the woman down on the gurney and wheeled her into the lab. Pulling out her surgical kit, she laid everything on a tray and then rummaged through the drawer for the shears. With a few quick passes, a large patch of Samantha’s hair tumbled to the floor. She doused the area with hot water and took almost five minutes with a di
s
posable blade to shave the stubble way, leaving a clean patch of pink scalp. A glance at the timer said she had fifty-two minutes.

Hooking up the monitors—she wanted to observe time of death at the precise moment—she looked at the clock when she picked up her scalpel. She now had forty-seven minutes. She realized it was going to be closer than she would like as she made the incision that allowed her to peel back the piece of skin and expose the actual skull.

With deft movements that had made her the envy of her co
l
leagues, Darlene made a series of two Burr holes. What she was looking for was the black, syrupy
hydrocephalus
—otherwise known as the
cerebrospinal fluid
. This was the key in her mind. Her eyes made a pass over the monitors. There had been almost no change in Samantha’s condition.

“Why aren’t you dying?” Darlene whispered.

Donning her surgical glasses with the loupes magnifying lenses, she peered at the brain and fought to stifle a gasp. “You aren’t dying!”

Darlene cursed her bad luck while simultaneously celebra
t
ing that their colleague was going to be fine. She did another look to see if there might be any discoloration in the brain at all. Everything seemed fine and now she would have some explai
n
ing to do.

She thought it over as she cleaned Samantha up and administered a dose of propofol to keep her in a medically induced coma. Lena was certainly going to be angry. After all, Darlene had intentiona
l
ly tricked her so that she could cut into their colleague. Perhaps she would be able to appeal to the woman’s scientific nature. As for Samantha, if she bitched one tiny bit, then the whole “self-administered” human testing thing would be her best defense.

Once she was satisfied that Samantha was in fact stable, she looked up at the clock and saw she still had eleven minutes. Flopping down in her plush captain’s chair at her desk, she opened her top drawer and felt around. There they were, in the very back where she kept them hidden. She’d told he
r
self that she would not use this last one unless she was celebrating…or about to die.

Darlene pulled the slightly crumpled box out and fished the last cigarette from the pack. Placing it between her lips, she thumbed the wheel of the lighter and stared at the flame for a moment before lighting up. Taking that first deep inhale, she was greeted by that welcome nicotine rush. Not having smoked for several weeks, the sensation was amplified to a level she had not enjoyed in quite a while.

With four minutes left on the timer, she finally made her way to the sally port. She entered the code and opened the door. Stepping inside, she flipped open the panel and shut off the “Emergency Purge” command with the flick of a toggle. It all seemed so anti-climactic now.

It was in that moment that the larger picture dawned. S
a
mantha had discovered a vaccination that prevented a person bitten by those things from joining the masses. It wasn’t a cure, but it would stop the spread. She remembered the image from the monitors and couldn’t keep from laughing.

A lot of good that would do now
, she thought.

She activated the sterilization sequence and stood with her arms extended as the mist sprayed her skin. She shivered at its coldness. The ultra-violet lights came on and she waited until the chime sounded that indicated the process was over before she opened her eyes, removed goggles and respir
a
tor, and unlocked the door that would lead to the living quarters.

Lena was standing there waiting. Darlene didn’t even try to defend herself as she saw the fist coming for her face.



Slider removed the pillow and climbed off the corpse. The body of the mayor had finally gone still. As for the bimbo la
y
ing on her belly beside him, staring up at the ceiling with wide-open eyes that saw nothing, he’d have to do something to clean that mess up.  That was one thing nobody had warned him of when he was first starting out—the convu
l
sions and the shit.