Read Crusade (Eden Book 2) Online
Authors: Tony Monchinski
Crusade (Eden Book 2) (38 page)
The third zombie of the trio stopped a couple of feet from her. Chris was between Tris and the undead thing. It looked at the wounded man still trying to reload his assault rifle and the black woman with the enormous hairdo. The zombie raised its hand, pointed a finger at Tris and shrieked.
“Your mother—” She brought the sickle above her head down. The pointing finger and the hand it was attached to dropped to the snow. The zombie raised its stump to its face and looked at it.
Tris swung the second sickle and caught the beast through the neck, yanking it forward, towards her—
“Come ‘ere motherfucker!”
—bringing the first sickle up and back down—
thunk
—right through the top of the thing’s head. She yanked her sickles out of the monster as it fell.
“Fuck!” Chris cursed on his back. “Goddamn it!”
The empty windows of the building filled with the straining arms and leering faces of the undead as they sensed prey.
Bear stopped and fired the automatic shotgun. Some of the arms disappeared backwards into the building. He emptied one drum magazine while Tris and Brent dragged Chris back towards the AAV.
A lone zombie bumbled into view from behind the Komatsu digger. Topless, it wore cowboy boots and was missing its nipples.
“Gat that fool!” Tris yelled. Bear turned at the hip and fired three rounds, tearing whole chunks out of the zombie, knocking it backwards and down.
Carrie was in the gun turret and let rip with the .50, a stream of lead zipping into the building, pulverizing brick and mortar and the zombie flesh behind it. Brick dust and a bloody mist hazed the air. Carrie raked the entire lower level then did it again.
“Motherfucker,” Chris said. “Man can’t even take a shit without—”
“
Christ
,” Brent, said holding a hand up to his forehead.
“Get him in the back of the AAV,” Bear said. “Let’s get out of here and patch him up.”
Tris looked at him.
“No,” he said. “We’re taking him with us.”
“But you know—”
He felt his anger rising. “It’s not your call.”
“And what makes it yours?”
Carrie sent another devastating hail of lead into the structure.
“It’s Chris’ call,” Brent said. “It’s none of ours. Chris, what you want to—”
“Like the big man said.” Chris grimaced through the pain. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
She gave Bear a look and the look wasn’t friendly. He ignored her and helped Brent carry Chris into the AAV.
They stopped several miles down the road for the night. Bear had staunched the bleeding and bandaged Chris’ wounds.
“You get some rest, brother,” he told him.
“Thanks man, I knew you were alright the first moment I saw you,” Chris spoke slowly. “Hey man, do me a favor, hold onto this for me.” He pressed one of his hands into Bear’s and he took it with both of his. Chris opened his fist and passed something into his palms.
He looked in his hand. It was Chris’ iPod, the cord for the ear buds wound around the device itself.
Bear didn’t know what to say and he didn’t know if he could say it without breaking down. Somehow he managed a “Thanks brother.”
Brent sat next to Chris and talked to the doomed man quietly, keeping him company. Biden sat across from them on another bench, looking distressed. Tris had gone topside. Isaak snored in the driver’s seat. Bear thought he would have a difficult time sleeping but he was out like a light within moments of stretching himself out on the floor of the AAV.
His sleep was plagued by another nightmare, the worst. It was daytime and Buddy sat in a clearing in a forest. His hands and arms were soaked with blood and he was talking into his hands, crying. Several yards from the man lay a baby wrapped in a blanket, the blanket resting on Buddy’s saddle bags.
He whimpered in his sleep. A mask of pure rage crossed Buddy’s face and he stood, cursing his hand, gibberish. He crossed to the child and looked down upon it and it didn’t look like Julie or Harris, it looked like…like Markowski. He picked the child up by its feet and he walked up to the nearest tree.
Buddy.
He drew back his arms and Bear whimpered again as he bashed the little bundle against the tree. A red wet spot appeared on the bark. He drew the limp blanket back once more, swung it. There was a crack as it connected—
A single gunshot startled him awake.
“Who-who?” He squinted his good eye.
“It was time,” Brent said. He sat on the bench next to his friend Chris, a 9mm in his right hand. The only light came from the glow of the instrument panels.
“Did he come back?” Biden asked from somewhere in the dark.
“I didn’t wait. He died.”
Bear fought to banish the images from his head: Buddy, Chris, the baby, Julie.
“You know what he said to me?” Brent asked Bear. “He said if he was going to die and come back… He said he didn’t want you to see him that way.”
Brent lowered his head and his shoulders shook as he sobbed in the dark.
Julie
.
“Are you alright?” Biden asked.
He had made up his mind.
“Biden, if you can, get Harris’ cat. Fred Turner’s got it. How do I open this thing? Let me out of here.”
As he walked down the ramp, his gear slung over his shoulders, Tris hailed him from atop the AAV. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
“Back to Clavius,” he said. “Biden can take you to Eden.”
“What?” Tris said. “You’re just going to leave here? You’re kidding me, right?”
He stopped.
“I
need
to go back.”
He started walking off into the night.
“Big man.”
He turned.
“Here.”
Tris removed the grenade she wore around her neck and tossed it to him. He caught it and considered it.
“Big man. You and me, when we get back, we gonna have a little talk.”
Bear ignored her, turned, and continued walking.
Tris watched as the night swallowed the giant.
“Mickey, wake up. Wake up!”
Someone was shaking his shoulder violently. He opened his eyes.
“What-Wh-Sonny? What the—”
“Where is he? Where the fuck is he?” Sonny’s voice was desperate and shrill.
“Who? Who are you—” Mickey squinted against the glare of the fluorescents.
“Sonny!”
The other man was fully dressed and wore his assault rifle on his back and his .45 on his chest. “Sonny, come in man!” The voice was coming from his radio.
“I’m here, Danny. Come in. What’s up?”
“I got him. He’s here! Over.”
“Where are you?”
“The commons.”
“Is Torrie with him?”
“No, she’s not—”
“I’m on my way,” ignoring Mickey, he walked out of the room, leaving the light on. “Don’t approach him,” Mickey heard him say. “Do you hear me? Do not go near this guy.” Then the door to the dorm slammed shut.
What the fuck
?
“Mickey!”
Now Julie burst into his room. What time was it and what the hell was—
“It’s Buddy.”
He sprang out of bed and started pulling on his pants.
“What happened?”
“Sonny’s daughter is missing.” Julie had her winter jacket on over her jeans and a maternity sweater. “Buddy isn’t at the hospital—”
“Where is he?”
“One of the guards at the hospital is dead.” Singh popped his head into the room. “Come with me. I think I know where they are.”
Mickey started to ask “What’s going on, doc?” but had to hustle and lace up his boots as Singh and Julie were out of his room and down the hall. His eyes were still half closed as he fumbled with the holster of his 9mm. “Screw it.” He pulled the pistol from its leather, leaving the rig in his room.
He hit the front door of the dormitory. The doctor and Julie walked off in the distance under the stars.
“Wa—” he almost yelled
wait
but it had to be three or four o’clock in the morning and he did not want to wake anyone up. So he hustled as fast as he could to catch up with them.
Holding back his tears and fury, Sonny ran across the commons, towards the two figures that stood out in the moonlight. One figure was down, on its back, the other sat slumped a few feet from it.
When he got close enough to see who was who he came up short, huffing and puffing. Slow steps completed the distance between himself and the two men in the snow.
Buddy was half leaning over his saddle bags, his gaze darting around. He looked out of it, but was fully dressed and in his leather jacket.
Danny was on his back, dead. A bayonet had been driven up under his chin and through his head to the hilt. The snow was swept clear in the area around him like he had been struggling.
“Where’s Torrie?” Sonny screamed as he approached. “Where’s my daughter?”
Buddy sat still as if he didn’t hear him.
“You motherfucker.” He drew the .45 from his chest rig. He shrugged out of his M16A2 and tossed it to the side. “Where’s Torrie goddamn you?”
“Sonny!” Singh yelled.”
“
Torrie
, Kip!” Sonny was in tears. “He did something to her.”
“What are you talking about? How do you—”
“I
know
, Kip, I fucking know.” He walked around Buddy and stared down into the man’s blank face. “Where’s my daughter? Do you fucking hear me? Where is she?”
“Danny, oh god.” Singh knelt beside the fallen young man, checking for a pulse, knowing he wouldn’t find one.
“Buddy!” Gwen rushed up to them. “What the…” She saw Danny and stopped. “Oh no.”
“Motherfucker,” Sonny straight armed his .45 and aimed it at Buddy’s head. “You better start talking to me you son of a bitch! Where the fuck is my—”
“Hey, don’t aim that gun at—” Julie and Mickey reached them.
“He took my kid,” Sonny shouted. “He took Torrie!”
“How do you know that?” Julie said. “How do you know it was him?”
“He killed Danny.” Singh stood.
“Oh fuck” Mickey put a hand on his head.
“Fuck this.” Sonny pulled back the slide on the .45. “You’re going to talk to me motherfucker. You’re out of it, is that it?” He was spitting and crying as he yelled. “I’ll make you feel. You ready to feel motherfucker!”
Buddy had a puzzled look on his face.
“Last chance, fucker.
Talk
.”
Bang
.
The gunshot reverberated across the commons into the night.
“Motherfu—” Sonny dropped his .45 and reached for his thigh, grimacing in agony as his leg buckled under him. He collapsed on his side, his right arm going out to break his fall.
“I’m sorry,” Julie said, lowering her .380. “I really am.”
Sonny looked at her then squeezed his eyes shut. His head shook in frustration and pain.
Mickey stepped forward and kicked his pistol away. “Julie?”