Controlling the Dead (30 page)

Kyle jumps in, “Trust me. Your pictures are everywhere. You’ll have people expecting you. No need to waste time on that.”

“Good. So where are they?” I say, none to friendly.

Silence, but I don’t budge from my stare. Sam sighs. “Two in the Northeast, one in Seattle, three in Canada. Alaska. That only covers North America. They hold an annual convention.”

I perk at this news. “Where? When?”

“We’ll find out,” Sander says. Everyone must already know all of this.

“My first priority is to find Mago. I’m always waiting for that bastard.” My bad mood is getting to me. I’m starting to feel smothered and claustrophobic. I roll the window down a few inches and put my forehead to its icy coolness.

Sander leans over from the driver’s seat to pat my leg. “Stop feeling so much pressure. You’re not in this alone.”

Sam scoffs from the backseat. “Is that what your bitchiness is about? I thought you were raggin’.” I flip him the bird. He waves it away. Kyle’s eyes are wide behind his glasses. “We are here for you, you know?” Sam’s face is earnest.

I nod and put my head on the window.

*

The car stops, and my eyes pop open. “Time to gas up,” Sander announces, sliding out of the car. We are at a warehouse somewhere. Hidden resources. In a small town. I should be able to find a car. Sam and Kyle are out stretching their legs.

I slip out and go around to the trunk for my pack. I’m putting it on, biding my time. Gwen comes over and gives us homemade trail mix and a jug of water. I drink a lot of it, watching as everyone piles out of the bus.

I walk toward the throng of people, getting lost in them. I don’t dare look around and draw attention to myself. Going around the bus, I take a chance and glance behind me. No one pays me any attention as I smack into a body. A hard body. Rudy leans up against the back of the bus with his arms crossed.

“What the hell are you doing?” I snap.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I have to pee,” I say. “And I’m raggin’.” Blurting it out, thinking it’s the perfect excuse. With the exception of Mac, men usually get uncomfortable when periods are mentioned. Zombie blood and guts, sure. Woman blood, they go running for the hills.

“What a coincidence, I gotta go myself. If you need sanitary napkins, there are some in the truck,” he proves me wrong and pushes off the bus. “Unless…you were doing something else,” he advances on me. All imposing and dominating. I back into the bus.

“Are you suggesting you’re going to watch me pee?” He doesn’t answer, just presses his body close to mine. My own responds, reminding me of pure human instinctual needs. The traitor.

Something flicks through his expression, but he waves toward the woods. “Go ahead, Darlin’. I’ll cover you.”

“I don’t need anyone to cover me, and I don’t need any sanitary napkins,” I gripe, stomping into the woods. He’ll come after me if I’m not out in the amount of time it takes me to do my business. He knows, too. He’s waited on me plenty of times before. How can anyone know me so well? Better than I know myself?

I step out of the tree line, hearing his jeans zip, and he emerges about the same time I do. I scoff. “How do you do that?”

He looks around with wide eyes. “Uh, basic human instinct I suppose.” His hands mimic unzipping his zipper. “Just unzip and—”

“Not that.” I laugh. “Time it perfect. You’re always done right when I am.”

A slow grin spreads across his face and his eyes twinkle mischievously. My cheeks flame as I realize how that sounds. “Not that either. Oh, never mind.” I scoot away from him, bumping into a tree. “Perve,” I mutter.

He’s still smiling. “When you realize I’m not going to let you go to Nashville alone, you can ride with me.”

“You’re done being mad at me?”

The smile drops in an instant, and he steps closer, pushing me into the tree. He brings my arms up over my head, lacing his fingers with mine before skimming my jaw with his nose. I meet his gaze when he peers at me. “No. And I won’t be until you realize that I’m really not going anywhere and until I’m sure you aren’t either.” Brushing his lips against mine, he shoves off and leaves me against the tree.

I make it to his truck and help him fill it with gas.

*

If possible, my grouchy mood evaporates more with every mile we travel out of the way. Soon we’re in Idaho and the sun is setting. I watch sulkily, sitting on the back of the truck as everyone pitches tents and starts a fire. In the middle of nowhere.

“Hi, Kan,” Julie says.

I give her a small smile. “Hey, you okay?”

She beams. “Never better. I wanted to let you know something.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I heard Nastas and Sander talking a few days ago and tomorrow is April first.” She searches my face.

“Planning a joke on someone?”

She shakes her head. “No, but Rudy turns twenty-nine,” she smiles. “I don’t know if you knew or not. I’m sure he doesn’t really care, but I know you do.”

I smile at her. “I do, thanks.” She walks away. I jump down from the truck in search of Gwen.

When I find her, I ask, “You have any sugar?”

“Not much.”

“What can I trade you for it?”

“What do you want it for?”

I shrug, “A cake?”

“Show me how you’ll make it over a fire, and you can have whatever you need for it.”

I smile, “Deal.”

Turns out she has cocoa, too. It would have been better with a cast iron skillet, but with the pan I used it turns out okay. After conversing with Reece and Glinda, I carry the small lumpy chocolate cake drizzled with a sugar glaze toward the truck. There are several young women from the compound standing around, gawking. When what they are looking at comes into view, I roll my eyes.

“You trying to give those girls heart palpitations?” I joke. “Your birthday is tomorrow, you know?” I show him the cake. His feet thump to the ground from his pull-up bar.

“Is tomorrow the first?” he asks, grabbing the bar from the top of the open doors and throwing it in the truck.

“So says Julie.” I grin before observing his audience.

He slips off his sweatshirt and wipes his forehead with it, watching the disappearing crowd. His face scrunches. “They don’t see anything else, Kan.”

“You calling them superficial?”

“Just calling it like it is.”

“I don’t blame them. I like watching you, too.” Although, I’m not as open about it.

He grins wide, showing dimples through his beard. “That’s good to know. But it’s different.”

I place the cake on the truck. “Different how?”

He shrugs. “You see more than skin deep or we’d have already bumped hips, don’t you think?” His face is open and ready to hear my reply. I don’t have anything to say because he’s right. There have been plenty of opportunities.

It takes me a minute, but I come to my senses. “What makes you think that?”

“The first morning we woke up together, you didn’t respond to my advances.”

Shaking my head and giving him a grin, I say, “You didn’t try very hard.”

“Glad I didn’t.” He climbs in the truck, grabbing his guitar.

I follow behind him. “Ouch,” I say and laugh in an awkward way.

“That’s not what I mean—”

“Rudy doll! Happy birthday,” Glinda says, climbing into the truck with Reece in tow. Rudy studies me with a smile.

“Yeah, what she said. Time to celebrate,” Reece pipes in. We all laugh and eat cake.

*

The rest of the trip south is uneventful. It consists of Rudy watching me like a hawk, ready to swoop down on his prey. I even tell him I won’t go anywhere given it’s his birthday and all. He doesn’t seem to believe me, so I’m taking extra measures to make it up to him.

The weather gets warmer, and everyone is glad to ditch the coats and sweatshirts for T-shirts and tanks. The farther southwest we travel, however, the looting is terrible. I can only guess it’s because survivors flock to warmer weather. With more people to feed, we ration food more than we already do. No one minds, anyway, since we are all used to small portions.

We arrive in Arizona only to be put on hold. The delay is for taking count of everyone we have and finding places to put them. They are organized and efficient, placing us in a secure campground. Luckily, another counselor is available to help the transition of survivors. At first, the survivors were unsure, but the closer we came to this town, the more open they were to the change.

A man named Martin, who is part of the council here, shows up to tell us about the new town of Sierra Vista, which is completely different than Sierra Vista itself. Martin is a laid back guy with buzzed hair, long cargo shorts and a tank.

The town is actually just that. A town. They utilize everything within it. Neighborhoods, offices, grocery stores, gas stations. Everything. Right now, they rely on solar power, but it’s dodgy, so they’ve been working to strengthen it for some time. Even more so since the population grows in this town more every month.

A problem arises when we have to give up our firearms. Martin remains patient. “This is for the safety of everyone, but especially the children. You’re allowed to keep your weapons, but firearms need to be checked into the armory at the gate of our town and only used off grounds.”

Reece is especially unnerved about it, and after much debate with the help of Nastas and the fact none of us has kids, we’re able to keep one firearm each after a rundown of firearm 101. Silly, but if it makes the council feel better, then why not?

I’m not sure how I feel about the whole setup, yet. Only time will tell. Many people come in and out of the campground, and it’s hard to keep everyone straight, but the town obviously knows how to handle the situation. Meeting a bunch of new people within the span of a few days is kind of like having vertigo and makes my head spin. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen so many people in one place. One could easily forget the world went to shit, but I know better.

We camp for two days while people trickle out, being analyzed and placed in housing. Their own house unless they are a single person, but it’s different than the compounds because people aren’t pushed to procreate here. The team volunteers to be last, to get families and survivors situated.

The equipment we pilfered from the compound is in the hands of the council here. Something else I’m not sure about, but it lifts some weight off my shoulders to let them handle it. If Mago wants it, he should be here to get it. Thinking of Mago only makes me worry more.

I split a granola bar in half and hand the other half to Rudy. We sit around a small fire. Rudy asks, “How does it feel to be right?”

“Right about what?”

“The souls.” This comes out of nowhere, but I remember talking with him about it a long time ago. I don’t feel great about my theory being true. Mago doesn’t like it either. He goes against his beliefs, but he doesn’t do it just because he can. He does it for a very selfless reason. Surely the Loa’s will know and give him credit for that at least. I wonder how that works?

“I don’t know. It’s not a good feeling. I’m sure Mago feels even worse. Now that I think about it, he only spoke it out loud in so many words, but Mya practices black magic, too. I suppose that’s why he’s so daunted. He wants it to end, and so do I.” I feel that heavy weight, again.

The fire reflects across Rudy’s features making him glow. “We’ll find him and set things straight.”

“Kan! Rudy!” Sam runs toward us. Kyle is with him and they both look horrified.

I jump up. “What?”

“We got through the encryption.” Sam looks at Kyle.

“Then why are you guys so freaked?”

“The encryption isn’t studies on the virus,” Sam says, drawing out his words.

Rudy scoffs, “That doesn’t do us any damn good.”

Kyle swallows. “From the way the rest of the council talked to Nastas, we gather it’s studies on a vaccine that lead nowhere.”

I exchange a glance with Rudy. “So there is a vaccine?” I ask.

Sam shakes his head and gets a little pale. “I don’t know.
We
don’t know, but they’re giving something to those pregnant women.”

Mago told me the vaccine was crap. Did he know and refuse to tell me the truth? Or did he not know and assumed it is crap? No, I don’t think he’d lie. The U.S. Coalition also said it was crap, and sent Dalton to his post, along with the rest of my team.

Or does Dalton know something? He said the Coalition was doing something, but things take time and patience. And anyway, they are giving something to people. Julie’s gotten something herself.

I shake my finger at them. “This is fucked up.”

When Mac was talking about his superiors, he said they knew about the people in Arizona. What the hell are they doing? What was it Mac wanted to tell me before he was killed, and was he killed because of what he knew? It’s like I’m collecting puzzle pieces, but I can’t put them together.

I stare at Rudy. He waits patiently as I sink to the ground. “I can’t figure it out.” I whisper. When I look at them, I say, “I think it’s time to pay a visit to Birmingham.”

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY-
O
NE

My plan is not coming together smoothly. The next few days are hectic. They place Rudy and I in a small stucco house of our own. We’ve have a few days to settle, and the house has a lot of work that needs completed. Then, we’ll be given assignments based on our skills and/or experience. I have a feeling I’d be given one of those jobs cleaning the city hall toilets.

Reece and Glinda are across the street with Bryce and Ashley next door to them. Bryce doesn’t like me much, but I don’t blame him. If I was a man that got over powered by a woman while getting a blowjob from another woman, and didn’t get to finish, well, I wouldn’t like it either. Not to mention being hog-tied, pistol whipped, and forced to piss on myself. They are alive and free. That’s what matters. Ashley thinks so, too, and assures me Bryce will come around.