shit, I just wanna scare the guy.
Jon shakes his head and stumbles all over himself tryin’ to find a way to pull his head outta his own ass. “No. I just…You fit a certain…”
“Shut the hell up,” I mutter, turnin’ back to Winston. “I gotta get that fuel.”
“I know. We shouldn’t all go though, just in case you don’t come back.”
The animal inside me finds its way to my heart and takes a big, fuckin’ bite outta it. “You’d still get her? If I didn’t make it back?”
Winston puts his hand on my shoulder. “I’d try.”
“You two pussies gonna make out now?” Angus growls.
Winston drops his hand.
“I ain’t lettin’ you go alone,” Angus says. “I’ll go in with ya. Maybe get me a night with that Hollywood chick.”
He wiggles his eyebrows, and I gotta turn away before I beat the shit outta him. I ain’t never punched Angus, but I’m ‘fraid that by the time I get Vivian back, it’s gonna happen. He’s pissin’ me off.
I turn to face Jon, glarin’ at him for a few seconds before talkin’. “First thing we gotta do is head out to Boulder City and get us that fuel. Unless you know of a place ‘round here that ain’t been hit?”
Jon shakes his head, but he’s too scared to actually look at me. Good. “Most places ran out of fuel before the zombies even popped up. Every station I’ve hit has been bone dry.”
“Figured,” I mutter, turnin’ away from the prick. “Who’s goin’?”
Winston tilts his head toward Angus. I know what’s he’s sayin’.
When I turn toward Nathan, I find I’m suddenly not as pissed at him. Not with Jon standin’ on the other side of me. “You wanna head on over there with Angus, Jon, and me?”
Nathan nods slowly. Like he ain’t too thrilled ‘bout it. Guess we ain’t the best company.
“Alright, then. We’ll head out now. Run on over to Boulder City and get us a few cans full of diesel. We’ll drop Nathan off here before the three of us head into the Monte Carlo, that way you know we made it safe.”
Winston nods and holds his hand out. I take it in mine, ignorin’ the way Angus is eyeballin’ us. I don’t give a shit what he thinks. I told him before, things are changed. He’s gotta learn. All that racist bullshit he’s got goin’ on in his head don’t mean nothin’ no more. Probably never did.
“Be careful,” Winston says.
I nod, slap him on the back, and head toward the stairs. “I ain’t plannin’ on dyin’ today.”
9
Vivian
DINNER IS PRETTY MUCH EXACTLY THE SAME as lunch. Only this time, Hadley and I get our hands on a Snickers bar, a bag of chips, some chocolate chip cookies, and a bag of fruit snacks. Not exactly the healthiest meal, but I’m satisfied. We split it between the three of us before digging in, and I try my best to avoid the glares Dirty Blonde throws my way.
Our dinner of vending machine cast-offs is followed closely by the reappearance of the linebackers. Not a surprise, but it still makes my body start to shake the second they open the door.
They walk around the room, yanking women to their feet and shoving them toward the door. Kicking anyone who gets in their way. I shrink down. Like it will make me invisible. Right. No such luck. Of course, luck has never really been on my side. Zombies can’t change that. Maybe whoever requested me changed their mind? I can only hope.
It’s no surprise when Linebacker One stops in front of me. A sickening smile lights up his broad face. He reaches down, and I gasp when his fingers dig into my forearm. He jerks me to my feet, and my heart pounds so hard it vibrates against my ribs. It isn’t until I see him jerk Hadley to her feet too that I almost throw up.
“Both you girls have dates for the evening,” he sneers. He takes way too much enjoyment in his job.
Hadley lets out a little sound that’s somewhere between a whimper and a scream, and I throw myself in front of her. There has to be way out of this. At least for
C. J. Cherryh
Learning to Kill: Stories
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