minutes, Adam returned with a bottle of cheap vodka. Booze wasn’t a favorite of Lance’s, but he drank from the bottle like it was a Gatorade. The fire in his throat was nothing like that which had seared his legs.
“How’s the damage, Doc?” Lance was afraid to ask, but he had to know if he would be worthless for another month again. He knew that they couldn’t afford to have him feeding off them like a leech while he healed from another injury.
“It’s not as bad as it looks. You’re going to be in pain for quite a while, but you’ll be able to walk.”
Cass rubbed his back while he leaned against her. His system was winding down from the adrenaline rush of the fight, and his fear came tumbling back.
The faces of those dragged away kept popping up in his mind. He thought of the people he’d failed.
The boy whose body he’d found wedged in a tree.
Too many had died as they looked to him for leadership. And for what? So they could be slaughtered like so many others?
Lance sat, watching the fire and drinking, fighting against the torrent of emotions that threatened to break him.
Chapter 14
––––––––
B rown finished wrapping gauze around his legs while the sky began to brighten.
The pain, though fierce, was muted by the alcohol Lance sipped. The wounds weren’t as grave as they’d initially seemed.
The shrieks of the damned had died down an hour before, allowing people to cautiously work their way around the field. They found spots of blood and chunks of flesh. An entire leg was spotted behind the portable toilets.
Mothers wailed. Friends cursed their current lives.
Lance handed the bottle to Cass, who took a long pull before handing it back to Adam.
They needed to scavenge more bulbs and build protection around them. The idea of going back to work after such a stressful night had Lance wanting to scream. They needed a break, a pause in the madness, but their tormentors would never let up.
They’d never give an inch.
A groan escaped Lance as he stood. He moved his legs around, grimacing as the gauze brushed his skin.
His hands ached.
Cass stared at the woods. “There were so many of them. I doubt they’re all in one big place like they’d been in Pittsburgh. There isn’t a subway system like there was in the city. We can’t just blow a tunnel this time.”
“I don’t even know what we—” Lance stopped talking when he heard an odd rumbling sound. He looked to the driveway. “What is that?”
“Sounds big,” Brown said. He stood beside Lance and peered toward the road.
The rumble grew louder for nearly a minute before they saw movement at the end of the driveway. A military vehicle of some kind turned in from the road. Two more followed behind it.
A tank pulled up the rear.
“I guess the military is here,” Lance mumbled.
Cass said, “You can say that again.”
“I guess the military is here.”
“Ass.”
Eifort had been pouring a bottle of water on her head when she saw the vehicles and stopped. Her hair dripped as she stood and watched.
“What kind of vehicle is that in the front?” Brown asked her.
“It’s an LAV.”
“They look like hardy vehicles.”
“Very.”
They drove toward the cabin, moving slowly, as if they were giving everyone at the compound time to see them. Those who had been moving about, repairing broken things and getting more ammunition from the bunker, halted and stared.
The lead vehicle pulled into the grass and stopped.
A hatch on the top opened.
A bald-headed man stood up through the hole and looked around. He had a massive, square jaw, the kind usually found on boxers or linebackers. A cigar poked from the corner of his mouth.
He grabbed the stogie with two fingers, lifting it into the air in a small salute toward those standing in front of the cabin. He wore a sleeveless Under Armour shirt.
Lance raised his hand and waved back. He tried not to shake his head at the man, who looked like a caricature of all the
“How’s the damage, Doc?” Lance was afraid to ask, but he had to know if he would be worthless for another month again. He knew that they couldn’t afford to have him feeding off them like a leech while he healed from another injury.
“It’s not as bad as it looks. You’re going to be in pain for quite a while, but you’ll be able to walk.”
Cass rubbed his back while he leaned against her. His system was winding down from the adrenaline rush of the fight, and his fear came tumbling back.
The faces of those dragged away kept popping up in his mind. He thought of the people he’d failed.
The boy whose body he’d found wedged in a tree.
Too many had died as they looked to him for leadership. And for what? So they could be slaughtered like so many others?
Lance sat, watching the fire and drinking, fighting against the torrent of emotions that threatened to break him.
Chapter 14
––––––––
B rown finished wrapping gauze around his legs while the sky began to brighten.
The pain, though fierce, was muted by the alcohol Lance sipped. The wounds weren’t as grave as they’d initially seemed.
The shrieks of the damned had died down an hour before, allowing people to cautiously work their way around the field. They found spots of blood and chunks of flesh. An entire leg was spotted behind the portable toilets.
Mothers wailed. Friends cursed their current lives.
Lance handed the bottle to Cass, who took a long pull before handing it back to Adam.
They needed to scavenge more bulbs and build protection around them. The idea of going back to work after such a stressful night had Lance wanting to scream. They needed a break, a pause in the madness, but their tormentors would never let up.
They’d never give an inch.
A groan escaped Lance as he stood. He moved his legs around, grimacing as the gauze brushed his skin.
His hands ached.
Cass stared at the woods. “There were so many of them. I doubt they’re all in one big place like they’d been in Pittsburgh. There isn’t a subway system like there was in the city. We can’t just blow a tunnel this time.”
“I don’t even know what we—” Lance stopped talking when he heard an odd rumbling sound. He looked to the driveway. “What is that?”
“Sounds big,” Brown said. He stood beside Lance and peered toward the road.
The rumble grew louder for nearly a minute before they saw movement at the end of the driveway. A military vehicle of some kind turned in from the road. Two more followed behind it.
A tank pulled up the rear.
“I guess the military is here,” Lance mumbled.
Cass said, “You can say that again.”
“I guess the military is here.”
“Ass.”
Eifort had been pouring a bottle of water on her head when she saw the vehicles and stopped. Her hair dripped as she stood and watched.
“What kind of vehicle is that in the front?” Brown asked her.
“It’s an LAV.”
“They look like hardy vehicles.”
“Very.”
They drove toward the cabin, moving slowly, as if they were giving everyone at the compound time to see them. Those who had been moving about, repairing broken things and getting more ammunition from the bunker, halted and stared.
The lead vehicle pulled into the grass and stopped.
A hatch on the top opened.
A bald-headed man stood up through the hole and looked around. He had a massive, square jaw, the kind usually found on boxers or linebackers. A cigar poked from the corner of his mouth.
He grabbed the stogie with two fingers, lifting it into the air in a small salute toward those standing in front of the cabin. He wore a sleeveless Under Armour shirt.
Lance raised his hand and waved back. He tried not to shake his head at the man, who looked like a caricature of all the
Similar Books
