Dead South Rising (Book 2): Death Row by Sean Robert Lang Page A

us?”
    “Could. Probably will. I don’t wanna worry you, Lumberjack, but…”
    “So what do we do?”
    The Janitor sighed a heavy sigh. “Let Luz have the ship, find ourselves another one. That’d be the smart thing to do. Choose our battles, one that’s worth fighting.”
    “You don’t think this one is?”
    With a squinty gray eye, he searched Lenny’s face. “Do you?”
    Before Leonard could answer, Dr. Gonzalez rounded the corner, zeroed in on the two men.
    Gabe patted Lenny on the arm, then spoke loud enough for the approaching doctor to hear. “Go ahead, give ‘em a shotgun, three knives. You already give ‘em food, some supplies?”
    Lenny nodded.
    “Good. Our conscience is clear, then. What them igits do with what we give ‘em is all on them, now.”
    “You gots it.”
    “Gabe?” asked Dr. Gonzalez, her hands in the pockets of her lab coat. “Can I talk to you?” She flicked her eyes at Lenny. “In private?”
    The Janitor seemed as though he might brush her off, then said, “What is it, Luz?”
    She gave a little toss of her head, toward another room. “In private, please?”
    “Meeting’ll be reconvening in just a bit. Can’t it wait ’til then?”
    She eyed Lenny again, her look begging she and the Janitor be left alone.
    Lenny said, “I’ll talk with ya in a few, Janitor.”
    “Alright, Lenny.”
    The big man started back toward the warehouse.
    Gabriel said, “Oh, and Lenny?”
    “Yes, boss?”
    “Thank you.”
    The big man dipped his chin with a slant of a smile. Slowly, he headed for the warehouse again, glancing behind him every few steps. Straining, he could still make out the conversation.
    Gabriel turned to face the doctor, giving her his full attention.
    Luz said, “It’s something we need to discuss privately, before the meeting.”
    “If it has to do with Dave, I’ve already talked to him, and he’s going to leave for a while. Them other three are leaving, too. Was TJ who shot the one by the barbed wire fence. So there ain’t no need in—”
    “Gabriel, just come with me. Please.” There was something hiding behind her eyes, something he couldn’t quite make out.  
    He furrowed his brows, concern lighting his own eyes. “What’s it about?”
    “Just come with me.”

Chapter 9

    Jessica spotted it on the floor, beneath the box that had contained Natalee’s dismembered hand. The initial shock of that gruesome discovery had distracted her, and she hadn’t noticed the slip of paper until now.  
    One teasing corner poked out from under the cardboard.  
    Look at me. Come get me. Pick me up. You know you want to. You can’t resist. You need to know.
    She swallowed hard, anxious about what she’d find scrawled on it. The last time she stumbled across a blood-stained note, she learned a sad secret. She just wasn’t sure she could handle another so soon.
    But curiosity’s an irresistible temptress, and Jessica succumbed to the siren’s song. There was no point in fighting the urge, because she could easily justify reading it. The note could be a clue to Doc’s whereabouts. It could explain the sick rationale behind his mentally disturbed actions. Or perhaps provide some other insight she had yet to think of. Whatever that sheet contained, she would know about it first.
    Before picking it up, she glanced into the hall, noticed a few people milling about, like anxious family members awaiting a difficult diagnosis of a loved one. They were undoubtedly waiting on a verdict from the Janitor, who had slipped into Roy’s room to speak with David privately. A closed door meant serious discussion. She prayed the conversation was going well, that Gabriel was the reasonable and insightful man she felt certain he was.  
    David, her cousin and only blood relative left, meant everything to her. She believed him, in him, despite his less-than-honest dealings with her as of late. She blamed the current state of the world and what he experienced before society’s