Hellifax (20 page)

They stopped at a closed black door, which Amy pulled open. Inside, they followed another walkway, this one’s outer glass intact and with a metal railing leading up to a stairwell. Scott could look down to the first floor, and he saw ornate fountains that had run dry. The street-level windows were boarded up with heavy-looking sheets of iron. Amy held the door open as he walked through it.

“This place is big.”

“There’s another tower as well, but we found most of the stuff in this one, so we didn’t bother moving it.”

“How many floors?”

“Twenty or so, I think. But we don’t go up there.”

“Moe?”

“No Moe. We figured the Forces must have cleared them out. Just too damn far to go, anyway. You ever climb twenty flights of stairs in a cold building?”

“No.”

“Well, there you go. Here.” She reached the third floor landing and pulled the door open for him once again. “See how nice I am?”

Scott smiled faintly. Special
and
nice—a favorable combination.

Worn beige carpet and brown wood panelling covered the hallway. A current of fresh air flowed past Scott, and he wondered if perhaps a nearby window had been knocked out. Open doorways offered quick peeks to a number of reception areas, some of which had sofas draped in grey, military-issued blankets.

“Yeah, these are bedrooms,” Amy said, gesturing with a hand. “This place was the cat’s ass at one point in time. There’s a gym here, too.”

“A gym.”

“You work out?”

Scott wanted to say life was a workout these days, but he decided that would sound snarky, so he shook his head.

Voices floated from a corner office up ahead that Scott guessed faced the pedway.

“In here first,” Amy said and directed him into a room that had once been a cleaning station. Shelving units contained chemical cleaners as well as rolls of toilet paper. The toilet paper made Scott smile.

“What’s so funny?” Amy asked, pausing in taking off her bloody poncho.

“Toilet paper.”

He could see she didn’t understand, and he didn’t mention Gus. A minute later, they left their disguises behind and headed back down the corridor, toward the voices.

“Here we are,” Amy announced and went in through an open doorway.

“There’s my girl,” a deep voice boomed with affection. Scott entered just in time to see another black man wrap his arms around the considerably smaller Amy and hold her close. He was bulkier and taller than Buckle. An even six foot by Scott’s guess. He was perhaps the oldest as well, easily fifty. Maybe even fifty-five.

Amy broke away from the large man and indicated Scott. “Vick. Scott.”

Vick came forward with a smile, holding out a hand. Scott took it and noted that the man’s hands were as big as his own.

“Where did you find him?” Vick asked Amy, releasing his hand.

“Up on Bayer’s Road.”

“The hell you doing up there? That’s supposed to be off limits.”

Amy shrugged. “Found a bunch of seeds up there.”

“You did?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, that’s wonderful news!” Vick declared. “And good to meet you,” he directed at Scott. “Glad you made it. I’m Vick Tucker.”

Other people stepped inside the office, introduced themselves, and either nodded or shook Scott’s hand. Sam Koffer appeared like a wild child of sorts, with a mighty shock of dirty blond hair that Scott figured made Amy incredibly jealous. The man had a voice that suggested he could sing. Lance Shaffer was not quite as tall as Scott, and he appeared none too keen on the physical competition. He was another big man, with an athlete’s build easily detected even underneath the thick winter coat he wore. When he took Scott’s hand, he locked gazes and squeezed hard enough to deliver a message.

Don’t fuck with me
.

Shaffer even released his hand dismissively, leaving Scott momentarily stunned.

Vick smiled, seeing the exchange. “Don’t worry about Lance. Everyone’s on his shit list from the get-go. He gave Sammy there a hard time for the first three weeks.”

“Still does,” Sam protested.

“But then he warms up to you,” Vick said.

“Don’t fucking count on it,” Shaffer warned and glared.

Vick frowned, but his hard features lit up again when he looked upon Amy. Scott knew right away that the man loved her. A pang of disappointment coursed through him then, as off-key as a guitar string snapping.

“Have a seat.” Vick pointed at an office chair while he and Amy plopped down on a leather sofa, quite close together. “Any trouble out there?” he asked her as Scott sat down and gazed about the office area.

Amy shook her head.

“Well, the news on the seeds is great. Now then, where you’d find Scott again?”

“Bayer’s Road. He was walking with the dead.”

Vick looked approvingly at Scott. “You were? Not many know how to do that, my boy. Fewer still have the guts to even try it. I’m crazier than a shithouse rat, and I’m none too happy when I have to do it.”

“Donny doesn’t seem to mind,” Amy pointed out.

“That’s because Buckle’s a different kind of crazy,” Vick stated to Scott. “There’s shithouse rat crazy… and then there’s chemically unstable.”

“He is special,” Amy agreed.

“Not as special as you, though,” Vick informed her with a wink. “Now then, Scott. You staying with us?”

Scott blinked and wasn’t exactly sure what to say.

Amy dove in. “He might. He has to find a guy first. Someone who killed some of his friends.”

Vick’s happy face became drawn. “Sorry to hear that. There’re savages out there these days. I’m ashamed to say some of the living have become worse than the dead.”

“I hear that,” Shaffer growled. “Fucking war zone to start, and crazies on top of that. Goddamn grim world.”

Scott noted that Shaffer tended to stress the hard consonants in a word.

“Yes, well,” Vick drew out, “we won’t be here much longer. I don’t see any need to hang on now that’s Amy’s back with the goods.”

Amy’s mouth arched into a smile.

“Get any broccoli?”

“I did.”

“Well, that’s just great,” Shaffer said. “At least we don’t haveta row to Norway and crack open the––whaddya call it? Doomsday Safe?”

“Doomsday Vault,” Amy corrected him.

“Yeah, that thing.”

“The what?” Scott asked.

“It’s a storage facility on one of Norway’s islands,” Amy informed him. “Has all of the earth’s ‘spare’ crop seeds packed away in it, in the event of a global disaster where most of the species is somehow wiped out. Or, in our case, where we want to borrow a few for our own survival.”

“Never heard of it,” Scott said.

“That’s okay. Most people don’t know about it. Or have forgotten.”

“Amy knew,” Vick added. “She’s our resident farmer.”

Scott noted Amy seemed uncomfortable with the title.

“So what do you bring to the group?” Shaffer asked him bluntly. “Any particular skillset, or are you just another mouth?”

The question left Scott blinking. “Huh?”

“What can you do?” Shaffer rephrased, none too pleased about it. “
Son
.”

“Lance, it’s a little––” Vick began.

But Shaffer dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “I’ll ask what I want to ask. Problem is you guys aren’t fucking asking enough. This guy could be a spy for all you know.”

“He’s not a spy,” Amy stated in a tired voice.

“How do you know? He got a goddamn special badge or something? I sure as fuck don’t see nothin’. No halo over his head. So how about it? Hm? What do you bring to the table?”

Scott shrugged. “Not much, really.”

The scowl on Shaffer’s face deepened.

“I was a baker.”

“A baker,” Shaffer purred, smirking at the others. “Well, fuck me gently. Nice to know we’ll have cookies and muffins around the campfire at night. Can you fight?”

“A little.”

“A little.” Shaffer stood directly before Scott and tilted his head, gazing up at him. “What’s that? Don’t tell me you’ve only killed Moe, cuz that’s easy. You got any training? Military? Self defense? Martial arts?”

Scott didn’t like this guy. “Played hockey for a bit.”

Shaffer visibly balked, not appreciating the joke in the least.

“Shaffer,” Vick said, getting the man’s attention. “Relax. You forget the other reason why we came here?”

“Your trouble is I remember all too goddamn well. You’ve heard the fuckin’ stories about out west. This guy could be a plant.”

Amy rubbed her face with a palm and looked out a window.

“He came in with Amy,” Vick carried on. “That’s good enough for me.”

“Me too,” Sam Koffer said.

“Nobody gives a good goddamn about what you think, meth head,” Shaffer snarled. “What’re you doing in the city?” he asked Scott pointedly.

“Looking for a guy. Killed some… some friends of mine.”

“Got a name for this killer?”

“Tenner.”

Shaffer blinked as if a hot blast of wind had smacked him between the eyes. Even Vick and Sam Koffer became silent for a moment. Amy regarded him with those blue eyes of hers and waited for what was coming.

“What?” Scott asked quietly, feeling the abrupt change in the air. He started twisting in the office chair, making the base squeak.

“Did you say Tenner?” Shaffer asked. Sam moved in on his flank, his own features screwed up, wanting things to be sorted out.

“Yeah.”

“Joe Tenner?” Vick asked.

“Don’t know his first name. Only Tenner.”

“What’s he look like?” Sam asked.

“How many fucking Tenners you think’s around?” Shaffer snapped at the smaller man. “Christ almighty.”

Sam recoiled as if slapped with an ice pick. “Just clarifying is all, man. Don’t blow your asshole out.”

Shaffer glowered as he reassessed Scott. “What’s he look like?”

“I don’t know,” Scott answered after a moment. “All I know is his voice. He shot me in the back and left me for dead. Best thing that happened, I figured. I saw what he did to my friends.”

“Yeah? What did he do?” Shaffer demanded, his glare intense and unwavering.

“Cut them up.”

“Tenner,” Shaffer hissed and looked at Sam, then Vick.

“Did you know about this?” Vick asked Amy.

“That he’s looking for Tenner? Yeah, I knew. Didn’t say anything, though. There’s always a chance.”

“Chance of what?” Scott asked.

But Shaffer overrode him. “Chance, my ass. There’s only one Tenner in the phonebook at this point in the game.”

“It might not be him,” Vick said quietly.

“You
hope
it’s not him,” Sam added.

“So you believe what this guy says?” Shaffer pointed at Scott. “Just wanders on in here and says he’s looking for a murderer?”

“I found Tickle,” Amy said quietly.

That admission silenced the men.

“What?” Vick asked.

“I found him. Up on Bayer’s Road.”

If the first bit of information had quieted the men, this new piece stunned them. Even the angry Shaffer straightened up and blinked in confusion, as dazed as if a horse had kicked him in the face.

“Tenner said not to go up there,” Sam said, piquing Scott’s interest even more. “Said Moe got Dan.”

“Moe didn’t get Dan.” Amy frowned and met Scott’s eyes. “Well, not in the way we thought. Scott saw him, too. I saw him see him. You remember the one I’m talking about?”

Scott’s innards chilled as if thrown and stuck to a block of ice. “The guy… the guy who was crucified?”

Amy nodded.

“The fuck you mean, crucified?” Shaffer wanted to know.

Amy didn’t flinch. “Tenner said he saw Dan get pulled down and killed by Moe. I’m telling you… we both saw Tickle tied to a power pole like a hunk of meat left to be cured. Moe didn’t take the time to hang him from the pole… someone living did that. Hung him just high enough so that Moe could reach his legs and lower abs.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Vick whispered, pulling back from her.

“The rest of him turned,” Scott said quietly.

“This fucker could’ve done that,” Shaffer spat, jabbing a thumb at Scott.

“Think about it,” Amy countered. “Think about that day. The more I do, the more I think Tenner
wanted
Tickle to go with him. Dan called the shots then. He was the one giving out orders, and Tenner got Dan to go along with him into an area we already knew was infested with Moe. And this is Dan Tickle we’re talking about. He was a careful man. It’s… difficult to see him taking any unnecessary risks. And we only just met Tenner. Been with him a week. He said a lot of things that seemed right at the time, and really played upon Dan’s sense of not placing the rest of us in unnecessary risk, but now I’m thinking…”

Amy stopped for a moment, considering her words carefully. “I’m thinking he manipulated us in that short time. Saw right away that Dan was the leader. Played the rest of us off against each other. Tried to get us alone. Like he did with Dan.”

“You really think he killed Dan?” Shaffer asked.

“Course he did,” Amy stated. “After what Scott’s told us? No doubt.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Y’know, I thought––”

“Fuck what you thought,” Shaffer snipped, silencing the shorter man before staring at Vick. “You hearing this?”

“I’m hearing.”

“And?”

Vick inhaled sharply, as if the rush of air cleared his brain. “I think we wait. Buckle will be bringing him up here soon. Then we’ll do introductions again, I guess. Find out what’s what.”

Vick made this last statement while eyeing Scott.

“Wait,” Scott said softly. “Tenner’s here?”

They ignored him. “Buckle might be in danger,” Sam stated.

Shaffer turned on him. “Buckle? You fucking serious?”

Vick agreed with Shaffer. “Buckle can smell shit before it happens.”

“I think Sam might have a point,” Amy said. “Dan was good, too.”

“Fucker wants me to go off with him and look for another armory tomorrow.” Shaffer scoffed and shook his head.

“Might not be him,” Sam offered.

“Shut the fuck up, Sam,” Shaffer fired off quietly. “Just shut the fuck up.”

“But why would he do it?” Sam insisted. No one had an answer. Scott had an idea, but he didn’t want to say it just yet. Not with these people who thought they knew Tenner, who might have been in his company for a while, heedless of who the man was or what he was capable of. The excitement of the hunt drawing to a close rushed through him, and he fought to control it. Scott’s idea was simple. Tenner was insane. Worse, Tenner had a taste for killing. In a new world where the law was decided by the strongest, what was there to stop the man? Scott realized Tenner might have been killing people for a very long time. Working his way east.