Rotting to the Core (Keep Your Crowbar Handy Book 2) (41 page)

“We can come back,” Rae said, quickly backing
up a step. “Jeez, it's not like we'd leave him here to die! We just
need to find—”

“Do
not
fuck with me on this, Rae.”
Cho moved next to the writer and checked the pulse in his neck
again. “I'm staying with him, no matter what. That subject isn't up
for debate.”

The brown-haired woman sighed and called to
Penny and Gwen where they still stood watch, weapons pointed
towards the horrors gnawing on their too-thin, protective barrier.
The fence was bulging in even further now. Some of the posts were
already angling slightly, as the press of dead bodies pushed them
out of line. Cold hands clawed at the steel links, mindlessly
attempting to reach the survivors. Wanting nothing more than to
swallow warm, living flesh. To bite through their fragile skin,
savor the texture of their organs as they steamed in the open air
and suck the marrow from their bones, after cracking them open with
lifeless gray teeth.

“We're heading out the back,” Rae told them
and checked to make sure her X-M8 had a round in the chamber.
“We'll head south along the edge of the river and keep an eye out
for Foster and the Mimi.”

Penny's brow furrowed slightly.

“How do we…” Gwen's voice cut off as she saw
Kat kneeling beside the writer’s limp body. “Wait. You guys
can't—”

“Gwen! Focus!” Kat snapped. “You two need to
go with Rae. She needs you both to watch her back and you need to
do it
now!”

The blonde's eyes widened, but after
swallowing audibly, she nodded and followed George’s shapely
counterpart through the enclosure.

“Are you sure about this?” Deputy Carson
paused beside Cho for a moment.

“Absolutely,” Kat responded without
hesitation.

“Alright.” Penny didn't look happy. “Stay
alive until we get back, okay?”

Cho nodded, and the raven-haired woman
trotted after Rae and the surviving member of the Barbie Duo.

Gwen looked back when Penny reached them at
the fence, just as Rae pulled a small pair of snips from her bag
and cut the cable at its base.

“They'll be okay, won't they? We're just
going to sneak out and find George, so we can bring the Mimi back
to pick them up. Right?”

Rae stuffed the cutters back in her bag.
“We'll damn sure try. If we can find a vehicle, we'll just say to
hell with it and motor back for them ourselves. Dammit! I wish we
had a radio! Elle and Leo could've run our Hummer right over the
edge back here and into the yard!”

They took turns pulling the bottom of the
fence up for one another and then squeezing underneath it to the
outside. No mean feat, when you happened to be well endowed when it
came to cup-size. Rae was especially inconvenienced and had to go
under face up—after unfastening her bra—so gravity would help her
out a little.

Penny chuckled quietly and kept watch for any
creatures, while Gwen quickly helped Rae secure the twins in place
again. “That's a first.”

“What?”

“Me, being thankful another woman has bigger
boobs than I do.”

Rae gave her a flat look and shouldered her
massive weapon once more. “We need to find George. I haven't seen
that pink monstrosity of his at all since we snuck into the main
building. You'd think something that big and ugly wouldn't be very
hard to spot.”

“I thought you and Foster were all, you know,
bosom buddies.” Penny snickered quietly, while they started down
the fence-line. Gwen had to stifle a giggle at her comment and
strove not to trip over anything as she coughed back her mirth.

“Do you want a slap?” Rae asked her, voice
low.

The trio crept down to the corner, crouching
low to avoid attract any unwanted (read:
dead
) notice. That
was something commonly ingrained by many commanders in the United
States military—the worthwhile ones anyway—especially if said unit
often-times operated in hostile territory. The rule was: the less
attention you attract,
the less attention you'll attract.
Going all
Dirty Harry
, was a sure-fire way to get
yourself—along with some of your teammates—killed. A far better
strategy was to creep up on the bad guy, which meant keeping
quiet
and remaining
unobserved,
pop a cap in the back
of their head with a suppressed weapon, then sneak off again before
any of their worthless, shithead friends realized you were
there.

When they reached the corner, the women could
see so
many
creatures clustering against the opposite end of
the yard. More and more of them were massing between the blazing
offices and the transformer area, with only a scattered late-comer
stumbling through the newly remodeled (by way of the Mimi's prow)
gate.

Rae motioned Gwen to follow Penny as the
woman ghosted quickly away from the moaning crowd. There
were
some roaming the courtyard at the plant's front
entrance and a few staggering here and there amongst the various
buildings, but
nothing
like the number in front of the
cafeteria. They would be easily avoidable, so long as the women
kept their heads.

* * *

Kat gazed at Jake's face.

She'd managed to carry him to the fence-line
once Penny, Gwen, and Rae had scampered, but just barely. His body
was utterly limp and seemed to weigh twice that of a normal person,
once she'd managed to heft him across her shoulders that is.
Getting him off again,
without
smashing him head first into
the yard's gravel surface, had been the easy part. Cho had gone to
one knee, let his legs come down against her lower ribs, and then
collapsed to the ground beneath him. She'd absorbed the impact of
their fall, bruising both her butt (on the ground) and her boobs
(on Jake's chest) when he'd fallen against them.

Rolling them over, she checked his shoulder
again. It seemed to be bleeding less, but it was difficult to tell
in the darkness. The deep stab wound from Milo’s German-made knife
had coated his arm completely, and was all over her too. She
ignored it and rewrapped the ugly puncture, causing enough
discomfort to make O'Connor groan in pain, even while
unconscious.

Afterwards she lay down beside him on the
warm gravel. Kat snuggled close—hey, he was
cold.
Sharing
body heat should help—propped herself up on one elbow, and kept
watch over him, the surrounding area inside the enclosure, and the
fence a good sixty yards distant.

“We're going to be okay.” She told him
quietly, and stroked light fingers over his face and brow. “Rae and
the others will find the Mimi and bring it back to get us, then
we'll get you all fixed up again and head for Pecos. Boy, Allen's
going to be pissed he missed the fun, don't you think?”

He stirred weakly, maybe due to experiencing
a nightmare brought on by his exhaustion, maybe at hearing the
sound of her voice. “Kat? Wh…Wha's happening?”

“Sssssh. It's alright, baby. We're just
waiting for George to pick us up.” She didn't want to worry him,
but she could see the fence beginning to cave on the far side of
the yard. They had maybe ten minutes before the dead gained entry
and—if she had anything to say about the subject—it was time they'd
spend peacefully, together.

“Did I ever tell you... how much I like...
the way you walk..?” He asked brokenly. It was obvious, even to
Cho's untrained eye that Jake was in some serious pain.

He's delirious. That can't be good,
she thought, and smoothed his sweat-drenched hair away from his
forehead.
Gotta keep him awake or he could go into
shock.

“No, now that you mention it. What's so great
about it?”

O'Connor turned his head in Cho's direction,
but kept his eyes closed. He wouldn't be able to see with his lower
lids hemorrhaging, anyway. “Well, you have...
amazing
legs
for one... and the part they connect to... is world class,
too.”

She smiled. “You've really spent some time
thinking about this, haven't you?”

“That's not... the
only
reason, you
know.” Jake flinched as his shoulder twinged again. “You're really,
really
smart... even though you hide it. And you're really
good at ...kicking lowlife's asses.”

“Do you say that to
all
the girls?”
Cho thought she heard footsteps somewhere close by, but saw
nothing. “Or just the ones who keep you from getting killed by a
bunch of swastika-sporting morons?”

“Just you,” Jake replied. “Besides I've
always been... a sucker for a pair of... really pretty eyes. That
was... that's just one reason though.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, and
checked his pulse again.

He shifted his wounded arm up to take her
hand. It was shaking, and she grasped it quickly so he wouldn't
exert himself. “Reason I... love...”

Kat choked on the breath she was taking and
her eyes filled, which caused her vision to swim. He couldn't have
just said...

“Jake..?” He didn't respond, and she put her
face close to his. “Jake?”

“Uh...?”

Cho knew it was selfish. She knew he wasn't
completely in control of his faculties. But she also knew they were
most likely going to be dead soon, and she'd never get to hear him
say it if she didn't keep him awake. “What did you say?” she asked,
hoping he could still hear her.

“You know that... don't you...?” he
mumbled.

“Know what? Jake?” She cupped his cheek, and
his head rolled to one side. Kat's heart went cold, until she saw
the pulse flutter in his neck. He was alive, but weak from blood
loss, and though she tried to rouse him again, no amount of
pleading on her part caused Jake to stir.

She bent over and kissed him lightly. No
response. O'Connor was really out.

“I love you. I've wanted you since the moment
we met.” Kat studied his face from an inch away. “I wish we had
more time. Time to love each other.”

There it was again. The sound of something
dragging over the gravel.

She rose quietly to stand over him and
noiselessly drew her sword. Kat began listening intently for the
crunch of stone-on-stone over the moaning creatures on the far
side, which was when what was left of Tracy Dixon stumped around
one of the nearby transformer units.

It was hideous. The vile smelling creature
was wearing the remains of a blue terrycloth robe over her
decomposing flesh. The front of it was soaked in pus and other
noxious fluids that seeped from a gaping stab wound high on its
torso. The dead woman's skin had been cut and punctured in a dozen
places, turning the robe into a Monet of barefoot murderous pain. A
withered frame that moved on feet made ragged by months of
shuffling over rough concrete, broken glass and rubble, after
wearing her socks away.

Cho didn't lose her temper often. She felt it
was a waste of time.

But this was a special occasion.

A certain, drooling, pasty-faced,
gray-toothed, bimbette—in serious need of a good facial—was about
to get an ass-kicking.

“You know, under normal circumstances, I'd
feel sorry for you,” Kat said as the Tracy-ghoul took notice of her
and began to stumble forward. “I'd have thought about who you used
to be, and how awful it is that something like this happened to
you. I'd hope you didn't suffer, but we both know that isn't how it
really happened, was it?”

The creature came on stiffly. Its moan
mingled with those of the other flesh-eaters, who were slowly
wrecking the fence-line. There was nothing in the way of
intelligence or humanity in the thing’s milky, yellow eyes. Only
the driving hunger of the dead.

A very pissed off ninja-girl reversed her
sword, so the blade stretched along the back of her arm, and went
on. “Now. I was attempting to have a moment with this good-looking
fella here. He's
really
in a bad way so, understandably, I'm
a little worried that he's going to die and I'll never get to make
sweet, Smoky Robinson-style love to him. Then you drag your rotten
ass out and kill... the...
mood!”

Kat darted forward to meet the zombie on
nimble feline-quick feet. It snatched at her clumsily, animal need
and feral anger pulling its face into a terrifying open-mouthed
mask of rage. But it was no match for the furious woman. She'd
practiced with her grandfather's katana since childhood, so
Laurel's friend was very fast, and very,
very
motivated.

She easily ducked beneath the thing’s
awkwardly grasping arms, thereby holding its attention and drawing
it away from Jake. Quick as a flash, she spun beyond its reach so
suddenly that what used to be a pretty woman couldn't keep up with
her darting form. The lovely ex-pharmacy tech's weapon blurred out
and Tracy-ghoul's world tilted wildly. Its less than animal-level
brain couldn't comprehend what had happened, as everything spun
and—thanks to long-dead nerve endings—it never felt the impact of
its skull on the gravel surface of the yard.

Wiping her sword on the creature's faded,
thread-bare robe, Kat saw the thing's head was still alive. Or
whatever you called it. Which was totally wrong and utterly
gross,
by the way. It seemed that even parting a zombie's
spinal cord wasn't enough. Literally, the only way to neutralize
one of the things was to destroy its brain. She picked up the head
by its hair and spun it around to face her. Yep. Its jaw was still
trying to take a bite out of whoever was unlucky enough to be
within chomping range.

Cho wrinkled her nose in disgust, then threw
the nasty thing towards the center of the yard. It rolled to a stop
against one of the transformer units and hurriedly ran back to
kneel next to Jake. He was breathing evenly, and she took that as a
good sign.

“I won't let them have you. I promise.” She
eased down against him again and laid her head on his right
shoulder. Closing her eyes a moment, it was easy to pretend they
were alone somewhere, despite the noise of the creatures attempting
to enter the yard.