Defensive Instinct (Survival Instinct Book 4) (15 page)

“Help me get this closed!” Nessie shouted over the wind as she grabbed the open door, getting soaked in the process. The three kids rushed to her aid, and together they hauled the slab of metal shut and slotted the bar into its brackets. Nessie went to the back of her container and pulled two beams out of the corner. It was pointless to use them on a regular basis, but this wasn’t a regular storm. The kids helped her slot those into place as well, having to work in virtual darkness.

Once the doors were secure, Nessie located her candle and matches as she had the night before and brought light into her home. Becky, Dakota, and Adam were huddled up against the doors, dripping wet from closing them. Nessie located her towels and handed one to each of them, grabbing a not fully dry one from the bundle on her bed for herself. Hopefully the kids’ parents didn’t worry too much about their absence. It wasn’t uncommon for people to end up in containers that weren’t their own when storms hit, as most people headed for the nearest shelter.

“Make yourselves at home, there’s no telling how long this storm will last.” Nessie busied herself finding places to drape her laundry, while the kids awkwardly shuffled, not knowing what to do with themselves. Becky was the first to move, taking a seat on the edge of Nessie’s bed. Adam soon followed her lead, and then Dakota sat down in the nearby desk chair that Becky had occupied the other day. It seemed they believed that the hardback chair beside the sewing machine was Nessie’s domain and should be left alone for her. Perhaps it was the carefully centered seat cushion and ergonomic backrest that told them this. Nessie didn’t care where they sat, but took the remaining seat.

Secrets upon secrets,
she thought, looking at the kids. They had no idea about the box of grenades beneath the bed they were perched upon. Nessie wondered what else would happen, as bad things had a tendency to cluster together. She hoped the storm would pass quickly, both the literal one and the figurative one.

“So, who would like to learn how to knit?” Nessie asked the three children as she located the headscarf Becky had already started.

From the roof of the garage, Danny watched the dark clouds in the far distance and tried to estimate when they would reach the scavenger party. The distance made it nearly impossible to judge their speed, and the fact that the group would be heading toward them only added to the difficulty. His only certainty was that clouds that dark coming from the direction of the ocean would eventually reach them. Looking down at the map in his hands, he figured out where they would spend the night if nothing slowed them down. From there, he worked backward to locate several other safe places along the route. Their best option, from what he could figure, was to press on, and each time they reached a safe spot, to check how close the storm was and determine if they could get to the next one. As plans went, it wasn’t exactly elegant, but it was the best one he could come up with. Folding and rolling up the large map, Danny tucked it into one of his cargo pockets where it took up all available space. He headed back to the ladder and climbed down to street level, where the others were just finishing readying the horses.

“How’s it looking?” Lenny asked, checking the tightness of Thumper’s harness. The horse seemed annoyed about being back on cart-pulling duty after the freedom of their searching. His partner, Potato, stood serenely beside him, not minding at all.

Danny took the map back out and spread it as much as his arms would allow. Lenny then held a side flat, freeing up one of Danny’s hands for pointing while the others gathered around. Danny told them his plan, pointing out the locations he had picked out. The others agreed, all nodding their heads in approval and making a quick study of the stops. Lenny took the map when they were finished and placed it in a waterproof baggie that was then tucked into a large pocket of his backpack. They probably wouldn’t need it again until their next outing.

“All right, let’s head out.” Lenny climbed up into the first cart, pulled by Thumper and Potato, and picked up the reins, while Jon headed for the second cart. Danny was first in line to spell Lenny, so he stayed close as they started rolling forward. The horses were certainly strong enough to pull the loaded carts with the additional weight of people, but not knowing what lay ahead kept some humans on the ground. At least Danny didn’t have to carry his bag; it sat strapped to the side of the cart where he could get at it. On the other side, Shaidi kept the same pace, while Bryce and Larson flanked the second cart.

As they walked, Danny found himself unusually jumpy. He was used to having a lot of threats around him, but he specifically felt watched this morning. Constantly glancing around, he could see nothing that validated his unease. Everything was the same as it had been the whole time they had been out here. It seemed he was just having a twitchy day.

They reached the first stop without trouble. Bryce climbed the nearest available structure and informed them how far the storm was. They could get to the next shelter easily.

Danny rotated into the driver’s seat of the cart, Lenny now walking along beside it. It felt nice to sit on the simple wooden bench, his eyes now nearly twice as high as they had been and able to take in more. Thumper and Potato walked on effortlessly, needing very little guidance or monitoring. The reins lay in his lap, one hand curled gently around them, while his other hand held a rifle propped up against his shoulder. If someone
was
watching, he wanted him, her, or them to know that they wouldn’t be easy pickings.

Thumper suddenly stopped short with a heavy snort and a head flick. Potato then danced as much as she could in her harness, attempting to force the cart backward. The horses were clearly agitated. Behind them, the second cart had stopped at a minimum safe distance, its horses also agitated although to a lesser degree. As soon as the horses had stopped, Lenny and Shaidi moved in on either side in an attempt to calm them.

Danny slipped off the board and was quickly joined by Bryce, who had been driving the second cart. Jon and Larson were keeping those horses calm. Everyone knew what was going on and what to do. Bryce and Danny walked forward, their eyes sharply trained on every recess, shadow, and corner. Whenever the horses suddenly became agitated without whinnying, it meant that they had sensed a zombie somewhere in the vicinity. Danny was impressed by how quickly animals had learned to keep quiet and avoid zombies; they were a new predator that had taken over the top of the food chain. Even carrion eaters avoided the moving corpses, swooping in only once they were put down for good. Maybe elsewhere in the world, where there were different animals, some of them actively hunted the zombies, but so far, here, they had only seen the dead attacked when an animal was cornered.

Reaching an intersection, both Danny and Bryce raised their rifles, pointing them down both sides of the street while keeping their backs close together. When nothing was spotted on the roads, they both looked up, scanning the rooftops.

Bryce patted Danny on the shoulder, and when Danny turned to look, he tugged on his own ear. Danny nodded, because he could hear it too. From somewhere nearby was the gurgling, rattling groan of dead vocal cords. It was too loud to be inside, and it sounded close, but they couldn’t see anything. Spotting a storm sewer half-buried in leaves, Danny walked over to it while at the same time pulling out his flashlight. He clicked it on and pointed the beam of light down. There, standing in some stagnant water and adding to the stink, was not one, but three bloated and decaying zombies. Their flesh was swollen and pale, while places of it were split and hanging free of the water-logged muscle and bone. Upon seeing Danny and his light, they got a little more active, the water around their knees sloshing and releasing more stench. Danny backed away from the sewer, a hand pulling up his facemask. He checked up and down the street, but couldn’t see an open storm sewer anywhere. They had seen zombies fall through open grates before, becoming trapped and getting pushed farther along the system with each storm. It was also possible someone living had deliberately herded them into the storm grate and then closed it. Whatever the reason, they weren’t dangerous.

Back beside Bryce, Danny waved the carts forward. With one person next to each horse and leading it, it was possible to move the frightened beasts past the perceived threat. Once they were calm, Danny and Bryce climbed back up onto the driver’s platforms, and took up the reins, the horses now eager to press onward away from the zombie sewer.

At the next safe spot, they had to debate whether to press on or not. The storm was visibly closer, giving them a better sense of its speed. After a brief discussion, it was agreed they would go to the next stop and then stay there. Danny started keeping an eye on the clouds whenever they were visible between the buildings. The carts were now driven by Shaidi and Larson.

“Shit,” Lenny hissed from the far side of the horses as they began rounding a bend. Up ahead, a large, modified bus had crashed into a building, blocking most of the street. It hadn’t been there on their way out, which meant someone had been in the area recently. Whether that person was still alive was unknown. Danny remembered the recently turned man that Jon had shot, wondering if he had come from this bus.

“Looks like we might be able to squeeze around the back of it.” Shaidi pointed to where the rear end of the bus didn’t reach the buildings opposite the one in which it had become wedged.

“It would be quicker than going around these buildings if we can,” Lenny nodded, his voice a little hesitant about the idea.

Jon trotted up beside them to join in on the conversation, Bryce staying back with his brother.

“I remember this area,” he said, nodding to a still-recognizable sign for a nail salon. “Over that way there’s a wooded hill we can’t get through. We’d have to go around it, but it’s a decent distance and we’d be walking through a valley. With a storm coming, that might not be such a good idea.”

“And the other way?” Lenny looked at the building in the other direction as though he could see through it.

“Remember all that debris we passed on our outbound trip? That’s what’s over there.”

Danny recalled what Jon was talking about and realized it would be a long trip to go around it. Their outward journeys from the shipping yard were always longer than the homeward trips because of the unknown road conditions. In the case of the blocks next to them, there was a ton of debris on the road. Somewhere, a building must have exploded for one reason or another, sending bricks, mortar, and who knew what else scattering every which way. There was possibly an area they could pick their way through, but the main danger lay in other buildings suddenly collapsing from weakness caused by the initial explosion. Danny hadn’t been with the team when it happened, but an unexpectedly weak structure had nearly buried a man. Since then, they were always cautious, keeping the carts to the middle of streets just in case things weren’t as stable and secure as they looked.

“I think it’s worth spending the time to see if the carts can go around,” Shaidi voiced her opinion from her higher position. “I can start checking the map for the quickest route to and through the valley just in case.”

“I agree,” Danny said, nodding.

When Jon headed back to inform the guys of their decision, Lenny went to their cart to get what they called the width stick. This wouldn’t be the first time they were unsure if the carts could fit through somewhere, and so they always carried a length of wood that was slightly longer than the carts were wide. If the stick got jammed anywhere, then the carts would and they couldn’t risk the passage.

Danny volunteered to investigate the bus with Jon, strapping his flashlight on as he walked, while Lenny and Bryce headed for the rear with the width stick. Larson had brought the second cart forward to stand beside the first, where he could guard both of them plus Shaidi while she checked the map. These were all things they had done before, in different variations of the same situation.

The door to the bus was closed, the glass missing from it and replaced by plywood. The rear door looked like it had a sheet of tread plate welded to it. The windows were covered in chicken wire and bars, their lower halves also boarded up. From where they stood on the street, Danny and Jon could only see the ceiling through the upper halves, which told them nothing about what they might find inside. The front door was actually within the building the bus had smashed into, but was surprisingly clear of debris. Danny thought this meant someone had likely gotten out of the bus at one point and signed his thoughts to Jon. Jon nodded in agreement, and signed back that it was possible whoever had exited the bus, also could’ve returned to it. Bypassing the door, Danny and Jon investigated the very front of the bus. Brick debris had piled up in front of it, maintaining a shockingly well-preserved, wall-shaped chunk. The bus must have smashed into several displays that also remained clustered there. Danny couldn’t get past the wall of junk to see through the windshield. He couldn’t help thinking that, based on the bus’s position, it had to have been travelling pretty damn fast when it smashed into the wall. The building was probably what saved it from toppling over onto its side, because there was no way a bus like this could take that sharp of a corner and remain upright. They would probably find some very dark skid marks marring the road on the other side.

Moving back to the front door, Jon and Danny took up positions flanking it. Danny pressed his ear to the wood, listening for any sounds they might not have heard while outside. There was nothing. Nodding to Jon, he stepped back and levelled his pistol at the door. Jon crouched below his firing line, and tested how easy it would be to get into the bus. It turned out to be surprisingly easy. By digging his fingers into the soft rubber seal of the door’s edge so that he could yank sideways and by pushing on the center hinge at the same time, he opened it with a scrape and a slight squall that put Danny’s teeth on edge. Jon immediately rolled out of the way once it was open, while Danny prepared to fire at anything that might charge its way out. Everything remained still, the only movement coming from the back of the bus where Lenny and Bryce peered around the corner to check on them. Danny flashed them a thumbs up, then quickly returned his hand to his pistol and stepped through the door. Jon was up and following him within seconds, leaving just enough space for Danny to quickly back up an arm’s length if need be. In tight places like this, one never knew when a hand was going to reach out of the dark.

The first sight that greeted Danny’s eyes was a gross, yet oddly comforting one. His flashlight found the driver slouched dead in his seat, held there by a non-standard harness. A clear circular hole marred the side of his skull, possibly from a gunshot but it could also have been from an ice pick. This told Danny a few things: someone had survived the crash, had the wits about them to make sure the driver wasn’t going to turn or to put him down if he already had, and that that person left without a plan to return. If someone living had planned to stay here and use the bus for shelter, they would have moved the rotting disease factor for health purposes. If whoever had left thought to put down the driver, odds were they thought to put down anyone else left on the bus as well, so presumably it was safe. Still, Danny proceeded with extreme caution, understanding that every situation was different, and a broken mind was impossible to read.

Danny stepped farther into the bus. It was obvious to him that people had lived here before it crashed. At the front, where seats once clustered, were a pair of folding cots pressed up against either side, with hammocks hanging above them. This arrangement was then duplicated allowing for eight people to have lived on the bus, assuming they didn’t time share the beds, and that none of them were children who could double up. Danny took a few steps forward, his eyes constantly scanning for threats, and then paused. Behind him, he heard Jon give the first set of cots and hammocks a more thorough going over, looking underneath and poking around everything that remained. Danny stepped forward again, and Jon repeated the process with the next set. Just beyond the cots and hammocks was the rear set of doors. Two beams held in place the metal pressed up against them. As his flashlight quickly crawled over the arrangement, Danny saw that it could be dismantled without difficulty from the inside to provide escape. Across from the doors was a metal rack of shelves. They were cleared out, but based on the wires dangling from the ceiling above them, it was likely they had once held the occupants’ only electronics.