The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series) (8 page)

“And don’t forget we need weapons,” added Miller. “Just do it for the team.”

Sheppard opened his mouth to protest again, but then closed it once more. He shrugged and drifted casually away from Miller and Rat as they walked. When they came to the next bend in the tunnel, Sheppard slowed and ended up next to tall, blond Brandon. He said something
sotto voce
and Brandon responded. The two men whispered. Brandon said something with a smile, and Sheppard chuckled in reply.

The mob marched deeper into the mountain. Miller studied their hosts with anxiety in her chest. Some kind of old fever seemed to have overtaken the group. The ex-cannibals began chanting, and in their enthusiasm hurried Scratch, Miller, Rat, and Sheppard forward. They walked only by torchlight. Miller held the pry bar casually at her side. She was not about to surrender her only weapon. The other digging tools were being carried by Shane and Jennifer. Miller didn’t figure that for an accident. This was a trap of some kind. Allison led the way. Gary brought up the rear. They were clearly in charge.

Miller and Rat kept walking, but now Miller had her eyes on the conversation between Sheppard and Brandon. She was quietly counting the minutes as they passed, knowing full well that a team far more powerful and heavily armed was already on its way to collect them. Fuck, the dang Boy Scouts would have presented a threat at this point, considering how desperate and tired and thirsty Miller and her team were at the moment. She had made her only possible move under these circumstances. Sheppard had best turn on the charm, or they were all good as dead, one way or the other.

When Brandon laughed out loud, Miller and Rat exchanged a wan smile and breathed a sigh of relief.

Scratch broke away from his adoring new fans. He caught up with Miller and leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Are you watching Karl? I think he’s maybe getting a little too friendly with the enemy. Should I be worried about him going rogue?”

Miller smiled. “Don’t worry, he’s on assignment.”

Scratch caught on fast. “Ah, doing a little undercover work, huh?” He put his arm around Miller’s waist. “I know that with everything going on, it wasn’t the right time when we were back at your house, but… you know… I miss you, Penny.”

This was not the time to be discussing their relationship. Didn’t Scratch understand that they needed to survive the next few minutes?

“I’ll take it under advisement,” she said. She tried to cover her cold remark with a smile, but Scratch just looked at her in the flickering torchlight.

A few moments later, the group finally reached the bowl-shaped arena, and Gary held up his hand. They all stopped. Gary looked up and pointed at the open sky. Everyone went silent. In the distance, one light gray shape, almost invisible against the bright sky, flew in a rough figure eight formation. The sun glinted off the pod-mounted optics of the drone. It was still searching for them.

Moments later, another drone appeared and dropped into a similar pattern.

“Can those things really fly in formation?” asked Scratch.

Rat just said, “It seems so.”

“It’ll just be a moment, and then we can head down into the ceremonial chamber,” Gary said. “You know, where Vanessa is waiting.”

“Gary, look…”

“We will have a feast—a regular, civilian feast, mind you, Sheriff Miller—and then we’ll let you choose whatever you need from our supplies. Tomorrow morning you can be on your way.”

For a brief moment, Miller almost wished she’d just been shot up with zombie accelerant again. With the pry bar she could have taken them all out and freed her friends at the same time. Without the Super Solider Sauce and surrounded by a small mob carrying tools and torches and hidden guns, the odds favored the enemy. She was just a normal woman again. She’d have to trust her original plan and be patient. One thing was for certain, they couldn’t wait for morning. They’d have to run for it, one way or another.

“Almost ready, Sheriff,” Gary said.

Miller nodded, but in her head she was doing math. The crowd would fade away in time. Miller, Rat, Scratch, and Sheppard were four. Gary, Allison, Jennifer, Shane, and Brandon were five. If Brandon switched sides, it would be five to four in Miller’s favor. And if they could get two of the enemy to turn, it would make it easier to vote someone off the island.

Miller studied Shane, who she hadn’t spoken to much while they were digging. He carried a pickaxe and another pry bar, and quite possibly a pistol under his shirt. Shane was in his mid-twenties, and kind of on the gangly, awkward side.

Miller got Rat’s attention and nodded in Shane’s direction. “Equal treatment,” was all she whispered. “Go get him.”

Rat got the message. Despite having her jaw broken by Miller—and then super-healed by the fading effects of viral acceleration—Rat was a knockout by anyone’s estimation. Her fading bruises were invisible in the almost-romantic lighting. And both women knew instantly that six to three beat the hell out of five to four any day. Miller smoothly distracted the others by walking to the edge of the warm sunlight and staring up at the drones again. Meanwhile, Rat crossed over to stand near Shane. They began a quiet conversation. Miller tried to ignore them, so as to not draw undue attention to them. It didn’t seem to matter. Everyone’s attention was on the drones.

The drones circled again perhaps a half mile away now but would soon be coming back. Gary, Allison, and Jennifer also kept their eyes on the sky. No one wanted to cross the open area before it was safe.

Miller and Scratch stood side by side, watching Sheppard and Rat do their work. Scratch leaned down and said, “Do I maybe get a covert assignment, too, boss?” He looked up at Jennifer, who was young and pretty, though like the others, she was clearly in need of a shower. “I’m always willing to do my part.”

Miller’s head snapped up. “Yes. Your assignment is that you get to continue being Terrill Lee. Now, keep quiet.”

Scratch’s taunt bothered her more than she’d expected. To have him so easily switch gears and offer to catch the attention of a twenty-something curvy brunette just didn’t sit well. She tried to shrug it off. Hell, he might even be right. Maybe he should go make friends. But she knew she was pushing it with two attempts to subvert the enemy. Three was bound to blow up in their face.

Miller couldn’t believe the frivolousness of her thoughts. She could work out her relationship with Scratch later, when death wasn’t floating overhead at two thousand feet or waiting right around the corner with semi-automatic rifles and stun grenades.

The drones moved to the west and were soon almost out of sight. Miller checked on Sheppard, who was quietly whispering to Brandon. He looked up and nodded. Miller was surprised. She didn’t expect he’d have been able to gain Brandon’s trust so quickly. Had she underestimated Sheppard—or overestimated Brandon?

Rat came back to stand next to Miller.

“No dice,” she said. “But I managed to get his weapon away from him.”

Miller nodded imperceptibly, but didn’t allow herself to smile or react in any way. “Do you think he suspects anything?” she whispered.

“Nope.”

Miller lifted her pry bar.

Gary said, “Okay, the drones are gone now, it’s all clear.”

After a moment, Jennifer, Shane, and Allison stepped forward, followed closely by Gary. No one else moved.

“Sorry, this is where we get off,” said Miller.

Gary looked surprised. He reached for his pocket, presumably to produce the hidden pistol. Miller stepped in close. Her eyes went bright with rage when she put the hook of her pry bar under his chin. “Don’t do that.”

Allison and Jennifer dropped their tools with a clatter, but didn’t even have time to reach for their weapons. Both Sheppard and Rat produced very serviceable-looking guns of their own. Sheppard had a Glock and Rat now held what looked a lot like a silver-plated Firestar. Brandon had crossed over to the good guys, as she had hoped.

Gary, Allison, Shane, and Jennifer immediately raised their hands.

“These tunnels lead north quite a ways, if I remember my local lore,” Miller said. “You’re going to show us how to get of here safely.”

“No,” said Gary. “I won’t.”

“Okay,” said Miller. “Rat, Sheppard, get ready to shoot one of them.”

Allison and Jennifer visibly blanched. Shane looked like he was ready to wet himself.

Gary didn’t blink, but he didn’t drop his hands either. “You’re bluffing. You won’t shoot me.”

“You’re right,” Miller sighed. “I’d rather not.”

She stepped forward and whacked Gary in the kneecap with the pry bar. The bone cracked like a piece of plastic.

“Son of a bitch!” Gary fell down. He grabbed his knee with both hands and rocked back and forth. He wailed like a paid mourner.

Allison and Jennifer panicked and turned to run. Sheppard quickly raised his pistol and shot Allison in the leg. She went down, hard. She cried out, and quickly dragged herself behind a large rock. A small trail of blood led right to her position. Meanwhile, Jennifer and Shane disappeared into the far tunnel.

Rat turned to Brandon. “Okay, kid, how long before they bring help?”

“Not long,” said Brandon. “I can show you the way out. But you have to take me with you. They’ll kill me for betraying them.”

Miller looked Brandon straight in the eye. “You get us out of here, and we’ll do what we can. But you have to do your part first.”

Brandon turned to face Sheppard, not Miller. “Thanks for trusting me, Karl.”

Sheppard frowned a little. “Thanks for helping us out.”

Brandon reached out sideways for Sheppard’s hand. Sheppard looked down at it like it was a snake about to bite him. He looked around at the others, then directly at Miller. She nodded. They weren’t out of this yet, and it was better if the kid thought Sheppard was into him. Hell, maybe he was. But none of it mattered if they didn’t get the hell out of there, and pretty damned pronto.

Sheppard put his hand in Brandon’s, squeezed it, and smiled wanly. After a moment, they each let go.

“Let’s move out, Brandon,” Miller said. “When the Army gets here, I don’t want them to see anything but our asses going over the back fence.”

Brandon walked them back about twenty yards down the rocky mine shaft, moving at a brisk clip. He then took a right fork and led them into an almost invisible side tunnel. At first Miller feared it was a dead end, but Brandon waved his free arm to call them forward. He showed them how to duck behind a large speckled wing of boulder and get down into a narrow crawl space. Miller hadn’t even noticed the entrance on the way in. It was well disguised by fallen rocks and deep shadows. They all had to bend low to enter, but then even Scratch could stand up inside. Though they had to turn sideways at times, they made good time. The tunnel had an odd smell to it and what sounded like bats squeaked in the darkness high above. Eventually, the tunnel widened and they began to jog forward.

Brandon was on point with a torch, followed by Sheppard, Scratch, and Miller, with Rat bringing up the rear. Rat carried a torch and spent a lot of her time walking backwards to keep an eye out for zombies or pursuing cult members.

The way became narrow again. Their shoulders brushed the walls at times, and once again Scratch had to turn sideways to keep going. Those parts of the passage left them all feeling like they were in the jaws of an enormous beast. It was also very damp and dank below, often to the point that they were walking ankle deep in puddles of black water.

“We’re going to run into a guy soon, he lives down here,” said Brandon. He spoke quietly. “He calls himself Rolf, like the piano player on the Muppet Show.”

“Who is he?” Miller asked.

“No one knows, but we think a former military guy. Just be careful.”

“Why?”

“The man is a little whacky, but we’re going to need him and his cadaver dog Dudley. Trust me on that.”

“A cadaver dog? Like for finding dead bodies?” Sheppard asked in a whisper. The torch made his face look streaked with war paint.

A cadaver dog?
Miller thought,
Fuck, that ought to come in useful now and again…

“Yes,” Brandon said, “and the dog Dudley is smarter than most humans, especially his owner.”

“That’s great,” said Scratch. “Just what we needed, a lunatic savior and his pet zombie-sniffing dog.”

“It’s… hard to explain,” Brandon said. He ducked down and waved his torch to clear a spider web. He led them deeper into the ground. For a moment, Miller thought he’d forgotten the conversation, but then he continued. “They’ve both seen too much, even more than the rest of us. So Rolf talks to himself a lot, and to the dog, too. Gary thinks he has multiple personality disorder, but then Gary doesn’t know shit about psychology. The last DSM said that MPD may not even exist. Me, I think it’s schizophrenia for sure. Of course, there is only a hair of difference between that and severe bipolar sometimes, but I’ve noticed that his thoughts take flight, and that’s always a solid indicator. The guy could really use meds, but probably wouldn’t stay on them.”

“How do you happen to know all this?” asked Miller, genuinely interested. Someone who actually understood human psychology might prove useful down the line. Hell, almost as useful as a cadaver dog, in fact.

“I graduated with a degree in clinical psychology from UCLA.”

Sheppard nodded. “Nice.”

Brandon shrugged. “Yeah, a lot of good it did me.” He turned and began walking down the corridor, pointing out low-hanging rocks and loose beams as they walked. “Anyway, this guy Rolf has conversations with someone he calls Walter—that’s the name on his own dog tags, but don’t ever call him that. It will just confuse him. He really believes there is some invisible man following him around.”