and thumb like a dead rat, wondering if the liquor was strong enough to defeat Wulf’s bacteria.
“Don’t get lit, Sheriff,” a rough voice interjected. It was Topper, a machete still in his fist. He was soaked in the oily black blood of the undead, like Danny was. They both stank unmercifully. Danny tossed him the flask.
“We got a problem,” Topper said, taking a grateful swallow.
“No shit,” Danny said, her eyes on the team of men that was dragging the corpses of the zeroes into the fire.
“I mean, we got another one. I just found Maria back there—she’s okay but she rounded up most of the kids, and four of ’em are gone.”
“They’re probably hiding out there in the tall grass.”
“No, I mean they’re gone . Maria saw some fuckers grab them. Two thinkers, she says.”
“They didn’t eat them on the spot?” Wulf said.
“They got away with them,” Topper said. “Like that Mike guy tried to do, except these fuckers are undead. Maria swears it. She saw their eyes.”
A sliver of fear stabbed Danny’s belly. “That new boy, the Silent Kid, is he still here?”
“Somebody said his dog run off a minute before the attack, and the Kid followed. Ain’t seen him since.” Topper couldn’t meet Danny’s eyes.
Danny turned to face the scene of the carnage, took it all in. The ragged line of vehicles, a couple of them burning. The dead and wounded scattered around with Amy, Patrick, and anybody with a little medical experience doing their best to keep the fallen alive a while longer. There wasn’t much hope for most of them in the long run. Blood spattered all over the asphalt. Even as Danny watched, someone cried “Mercy shot!” there was a pistol report, and one of the dying was hastened on his way out of the world.
The inferno must have been visible for thirty miles, a pillar of orange flame licking at the guts of the black smoke rising into the night sky. Every ambulatory corpse in the area would be on its way soon. The survivors were sweating in the heat, although it was a chilly night beyond the fire. The nearest building, the service center, was ablaze. Everywhere Danny looked, there were weeping, stumbling, hurt people. No direction, no defenses. They needed her. They might not be able to put themselves back together after this unless she was there to snap them out of the shock.
But she was also needed on the road. Those stolen children were still alive, getting farther away by the moment. Freshly yanked out of the arms of their protectors. Danny picked out the parents, the guardians. They were the ones searching everywhere, running back and forth as if the fight was still on. Imploring people to help. They would spot Danny soon and come to her and demand she do something, they way people always did. What could she say to them? That she’d seen other children hanging from hooks, devoured alive by the very creatures who had kidnapped their own?
“Sheriff?” Topper was watching her. Waiting for an answer. Danny shrugged. She didn’t know what to say. Her bitten arm was swelling up, tightening around the tooth marks. They started back toward the survivors.
Amy was soaked in human blood, her own arms as gory as the skinned corpses back at the ranch. She left her work to Patrick when she saw Danny. Patrick wouldn’t turn in Danny’s direction.
“Ouchies?” Amy said.
“Nothing to speak of. Did you hear about the kids?”
“We lost some,” Amy replied, and it sounded as if she thought that was an end to the matter. That was uncharacteristic.
“Topper says they were taken alive,” Danny said.
“Zeroes don’t do that,” Amy said. “I bet you’re just changing the subject. You’re hurt, aren’t you. I see a bite hole through your sleeve.” Amy doesn’t want to think about the kids, Danny realized. It’s too much .
Wulf, who was following Danny around now like a bear looking for sandwiches, shook his shaggy head. “These ones do. Shit’s getting
“Don’t get lit, Sheriff,” a rough voice interjected. It was Topper, a machete still in his fist. He was soaked in the oily black blood of the undead, like Danny was. They both stank unmercifully. Danny tossed him the flask.
“We got a problem,” Topper said, taking a grateful swallow.
“No shit,” Danny said, her eyes on the team of men that was dragging the corpses of the zeroes into the fire.
“I mean, we got another one. I just found Maria back there—she’s okay but she rounded up most of the kids, and four of ’em are gone.”
“They’re probably hiding out there in the tall grass.”
“No, I mean they’re gone . Maria saw some fuckers grab them. Two thinkers, she says.”
“They didn’t eat them on the spot?” Wulf said.
“They got away with them,” Topper said. “Like that Mike guy tried to do, except these fuckers are undead. Maria swears it. She saw their eyes.”
A sliver of fear stabbed Danny’s belly. “That new boy, the Silent Kid, is he still here?”
“Somebody said his dog run off a minute before the attack, and the Kid followed. Ain’t seen him since.” Topper couldn’t meet Danny’s eyes.
Danny turned to face the scene of the carnage, took it all in. The ragged line of vehicles, a couple of them burning. The dead and wounded scattered around with Amy, Patrick, and anybody with a little medical experience doing their best to keep the fallen alive a while longer. There wasn’t much hope for most of them in the long run. Blood spattered all over the asphalt. Even as Danny watched, someone cried “Mercy shot!” there was a pistol report, and one of the dying was hastened on his way out of the world.
The inferno must have been visible for thirty miles, a pillar of orange flame licking at the guts of the black smoke rising into the night sky. Every ambulatory corpse in the area would be on its way soon. The survivors were sweating in the heat, although it was a chilly night beyond the fire. The nearest building, the service center, was ablaze. Everywhere Danny looked, there were weeping, stumbling, hurt people. No direction, no defenses. They needed her. They might not be able to put themselves back together after this unless she was there to snap them out of the shock.
But she was also needed on the road. Those stolen children were still alive, getting farther away by the moment. Freshly yanked out of the arms of their protectors. Danny picked out the parents, the guardians. They were the ones searching everywhere, running back and forth as if the fight was still on. Imploring people to help. They would spot Danny soon and come to her and demand she do something, they way people always did. What could she say to them? That she’d seen other children hanging from hooks, devoured alive by the very creatures who had kidnapped their own?
“Sheriff?” Topper was watching her. Waiting for an answer. Danny shrugged. She didn’t know what to say. Her bitten arm was swelling up, tightening around the tooth marks. They started back toward the survivors.
Amy was soaked in human blood, her own arms as gory as the skinned corpses back at the ranch. She left her work to Patrick when she saw Danny. Patrick wouldn’t turn in Danny’s direction.
“Ouchies?” Amy said.
“Nothing to speak of. Did you hear about the kids?”
“We lost some,” Amy replied, and it sounded as if she thought that was an end to the matter. That was uncharacteristic.
“Topper says they were taken alive,” Danny said.
“Zeroes don’t do that,” Amy said. “I bet you’re just changing the subject. You’re hurt, aren’t you. I see a bite hole through your sleeve.” Amy doesn’t want to think about the kids, Danny realized. It’s too much .
Wulf, who was following Danny around now like a bear looking for sandwiches, shook his shaggy head. “These ones do. Shit’s getting
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