Read Strange Trouble Online

Authors: Laken Cane

Tags: #Horror, #Fantasy, #Genre Fiction, #Literature & Fiction, #Urban, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban

Strange Trouble (4 page)

 
Chapter
Six

The town of Shalegrove was eerily silent when they drove
through it. There were no signs of life. The only movement came from a few
scattered zombies roaming the streets.


There
are the townspeople,” Rune said.
The new zombies.
The lumbering zombies had been called from
their graves, but the new, fast zombies were the fresh kills of old zombies and
something more. They were full of the magic she’d tasted.

She let down her window and aimed her gun, picking off
zombies as Strad drove slowly through the silent town. Denim took the left
side, with Strad’s help.

Because they dealt with the monsters, Shiv Crew guns were
loaded with silver bullets that exploded on contact, sending melting hot silver
into the monsters’ systems.

The bullets might not destroy zombies, but they would slow
them the fuck down. Almost before she’d finished the thought, a zombie she’d
shot fell to the ground,
then
battled the silver to
regain his feet.

She heard Jack and Raze shooting zombies from behind them.
“Might as well save your ammunition, boys.”

Owen and Z...

Where are you guys?

Levi had begun throwing up before they’d entered town. He’d
hung his head out the window behind Rune, and she flinched every time she heard
him expelling what sounded like buckets of blood.

No one, no matter how strong, could battle the zombie
infection and win.

I did.

Yes, she did. But she was…

Different.

Her symptoms were gone. She was weak and tired and her
muscles ached. Maybe her mind was a little sluggish. But she’d perk up once she
fed.

She’d been bitten by zombies.

Maybe she carried the antidote to the bite inside her now.
In her blood.

“God,” Levi
screamed,
his voice
startling and loud in the silence, “I can feel it. I can feel myself rotting.”

Rune pushed her knuckles against her lips, hard. They began
to swell and bleed immediately.

Strad reached over and pulled her hand away from her mouth.
“We’ll fix him.”

But if her blood couldn’t heal him, he was gone. And she
wasn’t confident in her blood.

Z might already be dead.
Her Z.

“Fuck,” she said. “Fuck no.”

A zombie ran at the car and she shot it with savage glee.
She shot it again as it fell. It lay twitching but not destroyed. Another
zombie wandered close to examine it.

She shot it, too.

“Should we have Elizabeth report this?” Lex asked.

“No,” Rune answered. “They know about the zombies by now. We
just need to get out before they find out about us, too.”

“As soon as we find Z and Owen,” the berserker said. “We’ll
have RISC contain us until we’re cleared. If we’re lucky, no one will know we
were here.”

Rune wasn’t going to bet their luck was that good, but they
had no choice. The way she figured it, they had a few hours before military
ground troops descended upon the county.

The ones who’d abandoned Rock County would try to keep their
secret—after
all,
their lives were in danger if they talked.
But probably at least one of them was infected.

Those things happened fast.

“We have to hurry,” she said. “We have to fucking hurry.”

And in order to help her crew, she had to feed.

Not just because she wanted to try saving Levi and Z, but
because…

Her hand shook when she lifted it to her head. She pulled
gently at a lock of hair and it came away easily.

She’d lost her blood. She had to feed. She had to feed her
monster.

Without feeding, she was just another human.
A weak, starving, sick human.
And without her monster, they
didn’t have as good a chance of getting out of zombie hell.

Her cell rang. “Elizabeth.”

“Ellis was just updating me,” her boss said. “I’ll do what I
can, Rune. Who’s hurt?”

“Z and Levi.
Both were bitten.”

“How far along in the disease?”

“Levi is…he’s bad. I can’t find Z. Owen went to look for
him, and now they’re both missing.”

“Owen?” Elizabeth’s voice sharpened.

“We’ll find them. This place was gone by the time we got
here.
Taken over.
I’m sure some of the people escaped,
and they’ll need to be traced before they do too much damage. But until we can
get out of here…”

“You won’t have much time. Find Owen. I’ll do what I can,”
Elizabeth said again, and hung up.

Owen was Elizabeth’s cousin. She was the one who’d brought
him in and had given him a place in RISC.

Rune knew little about their relationship, but she knew if
Owen died, Elizabeth would blame herself.

And maybe she’d blame Rune, too, but no more than Rune
would. As leader of Shiv Crew, it was her responsibility to keep her people
safe.

“The fucks are hanging around houses,” Denim said. “These
are some freaky zombies.”

“New zombies,” Rune said.
“The
townspeople.
Those called from the grave are slower, but there
are a hell
of a lot of them.”

“We have to find a place to regroup,” Lex said. “Levi needs
a bed.”

Strad pulled into the yard of a small yellow house. “This
one is as good as any. I’ll go in and clear it.”

But Rune was already climbing out of the car, gun in one
hand, blade in the other. “You can carry Levi in,” she said, “after I’ve
checked the house.”

“Rune—”

“I’ll be careful.” She waved to Raze and Jack and ran to the
door. It was locked so she knocked out the window beside the door. She hated
making noise and alerting any nearby zombies, but she was in a hurry.

One of the crew could board up the window once they were
inside.

The house was quiet and she ran through the rooms quickly—if
there were any zombies they wouldn’t have been hiding under beds or in closets,
so she didn’t bother doing more than a cursory check of the rooms.

There was no basement and no second floor. The kitchen was
small and clean with what were probably breakfast dishes in the dish drainer.
Whoever had lived there hadn’t been killed there—he’d simply walked out the
door that morning for work and had, most likely, been attacked.

She unlocked the door and after a quick check of the yard,
jogged back to the SUV. Strad stood on guard beside the car, waiting for her.
She hadn’t really expected him to stay inside the vehicle.

The other men and Lex obeyed—usually—a direct order from
her. The berserker did not. It was frustrating, but she couldn’t get too angry.
She’d known what he was when she took him on.

“Someday,” she muttered when she reached him, “I’m going to
fire you.”

He grinned.

Jack and Raze hadn’t remained inside their vehicle either,
but patrolled the street, ready to cut down any zombie that wondered near.

“Come on, you guys. Let’s get into the house.”

Before they reached the porch, they spotted three zombies trying
to get inside a house across the street.

“They’re so fucking fast,” Rune said.
“Inside.
Hurry.”
For all she knew the fuckers could spit and
infect a human.

Once inside, Strad put Levi down on the couch and went to
find a hammer and some boards to cover the broken window.

Lex and Denim tended to Levi while Strad and Jack secured
the house. Raze stood staring silently down at the twins and
Lex,
and Rune went into the kitchen to make them some dinner and a pot of coffee.

Z. Be okay.
For me.

The thought of never hearing him say
“sweet thing”
again was nearly too much for her. He was one of the original Shiv Crew.

She couldn’t lose him.

Even Owen, though she hadn’t known him long, was special to
her. The cowboy was so insanely calm and laid back she sometimes wondered how
he could move as fast as he did.

And now Levi, former COS member and the
love of Ellie’s life, lay on the couch, infected.
Dying.

Before she even realized she was going to, Rune rammed her
face into the refrigerator. Her nose shattered.

The pain was sharp and immediate, but even as her eyes
watered, something inside her sighed with relief.

Because she was half monster, half freak, half who
knew
the fuck what, she would heal quickly from such a small injury as a broken
nose.

“Rune.”

She turned quickly at the whispered voice, groaning inwardly
at the horrified look in Jack’s eye. His other eye was covered with an eye
patch. He’d lost that beautiful blue orb when they’d battled the Dark Others in
Hawthorne.

There was nothing to say. She grabbed a dishtowel and held
it to her face, mopping up blood she couldn’t afford to lose.

Yeah, she was fucked up, but since her stay with the shrinks
she was doing a hell of a lot better. So what if she cut herself up once in a
while or rammed her face into the refrigerator or sought out a little danger?

It wasn’t like it would kill her.

Jack didn’t know what to do or say, either. He started to
touch her,
then
withdrew his tentatively outstretched
hand. He opened his mouth,
then
closed it.

Finally, he just turned and walked away.

She made sandwiches and hot coffee. They had to eat.

And afterward, they would figure shit out.

 

 

 
Chapter
Seven

The zombie bites lay in strips of hot, raw pain upon her
body. Her nose had not quite mended by the time she stuck her head into the
living room to ask for help carrying food and coffee, but she could feel it
trying to right itself.

Strad had busted up a heavy bookshelf and was busy nailing
the pieces over the broken window. He glanced at her, did a double take,
then
dropped his hammer.

He walked toward her, his tread heavy and deliberate, his
face expressionless.

Jack and Raze stood at the other windows, watching for
zombies. As Strad strode toward her, they left their posts with narrowed eyes,
fingers on the hilts of their shivs.

The berserker had that effect on people. They knew he
wouldn’t try to hurt her.
Wouldn’t even threaten her.

Still, Shiv Crew was aware of what Strad Matheson was
capable. They were familiar with the rage inside him, the infamous rage that made
him the berserker.

His long, silver spear peeked at her over his broad
shoulder, and his black hair streaked over his chest. He looked like the
warrior he was. A badass fighter who’d killed more men than even she had.

She held her hands up as he approached, palms toward him, as
if that might halt his long stride.
“Berserker.”

He didn’t care that they all watched.
Didn’t
care that she flinched from him with memories of Jeremy still too fresh in her
mind.
Didn’t care that she had an unyielding distrust
of people, of men, of touch.

He didn’t hesitate.

He pulled her off the floor and into his arms.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured.

She buried her face in his neck, her hands clenching and
unclenching against his chest, her body stiff and tense.

He waited for her to relax, one big arm wrapped around her
waist, his other hand at the back of her delicate skull. His fingers lay
against the strips of naked scalp where her hair had fallen out in clumps. “The
burden is not yours alone. Let your men bear some of it.”

“Her
crew,
” Lex said, vibrating furiously. Then her
voice broke. “We can’t stand it when you hurt yourself, Rune.”

Sometimes she fucked up.

She was nearly too ashamed to lift her face from the
berserker’s neck.

They’d never understand, but they weren’t required to.

And after all, she’d hidden what she was her entire life.
She could do it again.

If she had to.

At last she pushed away from Strad and he let her down, not,
she was relieved to notice, with extra gentleness or careful eyes. She didn’t
want her crew treating her like she was delicate.
Or insane.

But he watched her. The look in his eyes was too intense to
be called tenderness, really, but for the berserker, it was tenderness.

“Let’s eat,” she said.

After the crew had settled in with their food and coffee,
she left them there and locked herself in the bathroom.

She stared into the mirror over the sink for the longest
time, unmoving and blank. Black crescents had formed under her eyes, and her
nose had shifted a little to the side. What hair she had left clung to her
skull in long, dull strands. Her lips were puffy and the stain of blood still
colored her face.

She was hideous.

Suddenly angry, she began pulling out the clinging strands
of hair until her scalp was bare.

It was an improvement.

What the fuck happened to me?

The zombie bites had infected her, an infection she’d healed
from…sort of. The devastation had left her different.
Inside
and out.

She wouldn’t have looked out of place in a graveyard, eating
flesh alongside Gunnar the Ghoul.

But her hair would grow back.

“Z.” She put her fingertips against the glass. “I need you.”

But he didn’t answer.

When she reentered the living room, she knelt beside Levi.

None of the crew mentioned her hairless state, and neither
did she. “Levi?”

He opened his eyes for a moment.

They were empty. Levi wasn’t in there, not really. His eyes
were black and feverish and his skin had taken on a grayish cast. His hair was
also falling out, but at a slower rate than
her’s
had.

Denim’s face was pale, his stare almost as empty as his
twin’s. His hand trembled when he lifted his coffee cup to his lips.

“He’s going to die.” Lex’s body was no longer vibrating, and
her wild, dancing eyes had stopped moving. “He’s going to die.”

“No,” Denim said, his voice harsh. “Rune will save him.” He
looked at her. “You need to do it soon.”

She saw the anguish in his face.
And the
lack of faith.
He knew his brother was dying, but he wasn’t anywhere
near accepting it.

She stood. “No one is dying. We’ve already lost too many. No
one is dying.”

Denim nodded almost mechanically. “No one is dying.”

“Can your blood can save him?” Raze asked.

“You’re not strong enough to feed him.” Strad glared down at
her. “You’ve just been—”

“Berserker, will you let me feed from you?” She stood in
front of him, staring up into his eyes, resolute. She didn’t
think
she’d
infect him. She wasn’t completely sure but the odds were she would not.

But there were no doubts at all that Levi would die without
her blood. Maybe even with her blood, but she had to try.

Then she would find Z and do the same for him. If she had to
force feed him, she would.

Something hit the door. Lex began vibrating the tiniest bit.

Rune ignored it.

“Strad?”

He stared down at her, silent, but finally he nodded. His
nod was reluctant, and she understood. He wasn’t worried about her infecting
him.

He was worried about her being strong enough to feed Levi.
Feedings were, to put it mildly, agonizing for her.

But he also knew she’d happily die if it meant saving her
men.

So he nodded.

And if there was the smallest gleam of eagerness in his
eyes, she couldn’t blame him. He was about to feed his addiction.

“Then let’s do this,” she said, and because it suddenly
seemed too personal to share, she led him into the bedroom.

 

 

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