Beautiful Death (Bella Morté Trilogy Book 1) (25 page)

“A Lurker?”

“Yep, can you spot him?”

She looked at the picture, picking it up, holding it closer. “Are ya gonna tell me anythin’ about ‘im or do I just guess?” Vince stared at her, not saying a word, and she turned back to the photo once more. “Okay, if I was a Lurker, which sounds a lot like a stalker, though not sure what one is… where would I hide?”

“A Lurker is found amid the dead and the decaying. They lay dormant at times, suffering massive burns in the sun. When someone draws close enough to investigate, they reach out, grab, kill, and eat them.”

“Oh lovely, you’re a great help. They all look the same to me an’ I don’t see where,” she paused, looking closer before pointing to one section. “Is it that one?”

“Pretty damn good! Yes, that is a Lurker. You see the way he tries to blend in with the others?”

“Yeah, for a dead guy, he blends pretty good. Once ya know what to look for, he stands out.”

“Exactly,” he said, pulling out another picture. “Brainiacs, oddly enough, still possess a fair amount of intelligent thinking.”

“And yet they don’t think eatin’ people is a bit outta the ordinary for them?”

“No, their thinking isn’t quite like that. It’s not enough to know something’s wrong, but enough to plot and plan on how to get a meal.” He placed another photo, which didn’t look much different from the Brainiac, in front of her. “Shadows, are the--”

“Who the hell named these things? All these weird ass names! Hell, I could’ve thought o’ some cool ones.”

“Who names everything that’s associated with the unknown? Uncle Sam, that’s who,” he pointed to the picture. “These are the ones that shadow the Brainiacs. They’re like the right hand man doing their bidding. Whatever it is.”

“Wow! This is like some video game I used to play.”

He paused. “You used to play video games?”

“Hell yeah. I was a beast at figurin’ out puzzles an’ killin’ things too. Baldur’s Gate was my all-time favorite in the whole world until I found Fable.”

“Yeah, I played that.” He handed her another picture. “These are the screamers and they’re very easy to tell apart from the others.”

“Let me guess. They scream?”

“Yes, they’re usually the alarms. They scream when someone’s near, be it hunters, food, or more of them.”

She grabbed another sliver of apple. “Ya know, for a bunch o’ brain-fried, livin’-zombie people, they sure have a lotta different intelligent groups.”

“Yeah, there are a lot of different genes in people.”

“I don’t really understand what ya mean by that. You mean there’s a different one for every possible gene group?”

“Not really. I mean, it’s hard to explain when I don’t understand it all myself, but there are a few that are just lumped in with the others. However, those of us like you and I, have to be dead on the right genes. There’s no almost to that group it has to be accurate. Criers are the infected children of the group. They’re the weakest of all, but they’re good to have around.”

She furrowed her brows in confusion. “Why’s ‘at? I’ve never been one for kids. I can’t imagine havin’ a bunch o’ screamin’ brats around in times like ‘is would do anything but slow people down. Their need to protect ‘em would put them, as well as anyone around ‘em, at risk every chance they got.”

“That’s true if the person protecting the child is a parent. Most parents would risk their life for their children.”

“So then, how do the Brainiacs use ‘em?”

“Because who can resist a crying child?”

“What do ya mean?”

He put another picture in front of her. “Well, imagine this, you’re walking along and you just finished killing a bunch of these things, or getting away from them, running for your life.”

“Killin’ ‘em seems more my speed.”

“Suddenly you hear a child crying.”

She nodded. “Ah, I see.”

“It’s human nature for us to defend children unless of course you’re some pervert. So when people seek out the crying child to help them, what they find is one of things they ran away from.”

“So they laid a trap.”

“Like any other predator in the world, their group is circling the victim and all attack. It’s not an innocent child, but a killer.”

“Wow! It’s like they have their own community an’ all have jobs. I mean for brain-dead-like creatures they act together. It’s not like monsters all about themselves. It sounds like this group all look out for each other.”

“Just remember one thing, it’s you or them. They think of the untainted, as food and you’ll be protecting a large group of them. As long as you remember that, you should have no problem killing them.”

“Protect my people by killin’ sick people. Got it.”

“Understand this; kids, intelligent ones, and even animals are all infected. They’re the monsters in the closet and it’s your job to kill them. They’re not really people anymore. They want to kill you. They want to eat your neighbor. They need to die first. They’re just a walking disease. They are the weakest links.”

“Got it. Monsters. No pity. Kill or be killed.”

“Exactly!” He put another picture in front of her. “Runners are the bravest and fastest of the bunch. He will run right up to someone cured or not. They’ve been known to run a group of uninfected into an ambush.”

“Wait. You said they know that bitin’ us will be the death of ‘em so why would they run up on us?”

“Because they know we protect the uninfected. Even at that, most of the leaders aren’t cured, so they pick the weakest link. They pick the one in the crowd easiest to grab. They scare them away from the pack just like wolves and lions do while hunting.”

Confused, she looked at the pictures before looking back up at him. “Are you sure they’re brain dead?”

“We believe so.”

“Because they sure sound like they’re thinkin’ to me. It’s a lot to organize a group like ‘is an’ they do it without processin’ any thoughts? Something’s wrong with that picture.”

“We’re not sure about anything to be honest with you. However, if we don’t kill them, they’ll kill off the population, or they’ll make so many of the infected that nothing else will be left. Who wants to fight for that? You’re the life and death of these people. It’s up to you to make sure they’re protected.”

“Well there’s nothin’ like a little bit o’ added pressure.”

“Sorry to be so hard about this. All it takes is one person to get infected. If you don’t catch it in time, you could lose many people in one sitting. You have to be aware of everything that’s happening. You have to know where everyone is and keep track of, well, everything.”

“Good thing I know how to multitask.”

He leaned back. “Trollers are the warriors of the group.”

“Sounds like a pleasant group o’ people.”

Stacking the papers, he put them in a nice neat pile. “These are the most diseased, most idiotic, the ones not afraid of anything. They don’t usually run in the
community
as you called it. They will bite you just because they don’t know any better, and they’re solitary creatures.”

“That’s a lot to learn in a short time. When are you leavin’ me to do this?”

He smiled. “Not till you’re ready. I’ll know when it’s time for me to move on.”

“Encouraging.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll be in constant communication with each other after I leave. If there’s something you need or if you need me to come back for any reason, you just say the word and I’m here.”

“Well, I hope you’re gonna teach me the best way to kill these things before ya go.”

He finished putting everything back in the folder, handing it over to her. “Put that in your backpack.”

She grabbed it, sliding it into her backpack. “Is ‘is for me to study?”

“Study it when you get the chance because it will save lives. It’s your leader folder. You will use that to explain as I’ve done for you. The best protection is a well-informed army. Your people will be your army. The better you prepare them, the better they’ll be, and more likely to survive.”

“Good to know.”

“I’ll take you out on a few hunts when you’re stronger and you’ll see what to do. Then if you come across someone bitten, you’ll do exactly what I did for you.” He leaned back in his chair watching her. “The hardest part will be putting a bullet between someone’s eyes because nine out of ten times that’s what we do.”

“Okay. Can I take a bath now? The stench’s killin’ me.”

He smiled. “Sure.”

Nineteen

“The wheels on the bus go round and round…”

That was what the people on bus number two-thousand-twenty-four heard from the start of this trip, which was two days, twenty-nine hours, and thirty-six minutes ago. They knew the exact number because they were slowly being driven insane by that childhood song and the little girl who wouldn’t stop singing.

It was an express ride, which meant there wouldn’t be any drop-offs or pickups. Everyone you saw from the start, you were going to see until the conclusion of the ride. Only taking short breaks for naps, the little girl sang the same song as if stuck on a loop. The cute little blonde girl in the third row, sitting with her mother, continued singing as the bus drove down the street.

“Alice, honey we all agree you have a gorgeous voice. We love to hear you sing, but can’t you pick another song?” Her mother pleaded.

The little girl, Alice Northridge was going to visit her grandparents for the first time in her life. It was her ninth birthday and to celebrate they were going to Kings Dominion. She was excited that she was tall enough to ride the rollercoasters, so she sang to pass the time.

Dressed in a pink dress, white shiny tap shoes, and pink ribbons in her hair, she looked the part of the adoring granddaughter. She was a pretty little girl and her mother, as well as anyone who met her, knew she was going to go far. She spoke intellectually, well above her current age.

Her mother, Sheila was dressed in jeans, turtleneck sweater, and brown boots just below her knee. Her earrings dangled low enough to rest upon her neck. The makeup on her face applied with a heavy hand, but that was most likely to anger her father.

Looking out the window, Alice bounced around excited. “Are we there yet?”

“God, I hope so,” one woman said from the back of the bus.

The man behind her leaned forward and tapped her on the shoulder. “Maybe we could put something in her orange juice that might help her sleep?”

“You know, I thought about that, but I don’t have anything that’d be strong enough to knock her out and not kill her at the same time. We could probably get a collection from everyone and get the mother’s approval. I’ll never get that damn song out of my head.”

“Psh, I got you beat. I’m ready to put it as my ringtone I’ve heard it so much.” He sat back resting his head against the seat. “Wait for it. Because you know it’s coming.”

Rubbing her belly, Sheila smiled. “Sh, go to sleep. We’ll be there soon enough. Your brother or sister is trying to sleep too, so you should sleep together.”

Smiling, she turned and helped mommy rub her belly. “Ooh, I’ll sing him a lullaby, Mommy. I’ll help you go to sleep too.”

“Oh no honey. The baby’s sleeping now.”

“Wait for it,” the man said eerily.

“The wheels on the bus go round and round…” Alice began once more and the chorus were the groans heard in the darkness. “…all over town.”

Buses were never fun, but if the trip was days long, it could be murder. Jessi and Tyler knew they had to move. Things were crazy in the city. They moved to Maryland to stay with Tyler’s brother, Jackson until their place was ready. That was their final destination. It seemed like weeks when in reality it was just a few days. The mother and daughter duo in the seat behind the driver was the reason the whole bus was irritable. The cute little girl continued singing the same childhood song, repeatedly without fail.

Jessi looked out the window as they slowly passed the town buildings. In the darkness, they looked so foreboding, downright evil. She turned to look at the man seated beside her. “So when’s the last time you saw your brother?” For three years, Jessi and Tyler were together, living happily, taking each day as they came.

Jessica Rogers, with her dirty blonde hair and blue green eyes was the most beautiful girl Tyler had ever laid eyes on. He spent a year of his life trying to convince her that she was the girl for him. It didn’t matter that she didn’t have a gorgeous body, or that she was just a little on the skinny side in his opinion. It was something about her eyes and the way she looked at him. He realized he couldn’t live another day without her in his life. Every day he asked her out, she rejected him. He continued without fail until she finally gave in.

However, recession hit the big cities harder than the smaller ones and jobs were scarce. Food cost more than the gas needed to stock the shelves. The weather changed the seasons around. Spring was winter, winter was spring, summer was fall, and fall was summer, but that wasn’t a definite. A blizzard could easily strike in the middle of the summer drought, killing off produce for hundreds of miles. That made vegetables and fruit a commodity, hard to get.