I’d spent the time on the opposite end of the wall from where I had been during the “runner put-down” earlier that morning. I just couldn’t see myself retaining any sanity if I’d been forced to sit there, staring down at the little girl I’d killed. It was bad enough not being able to get Pepper’s and Ben’s words out of my head. They were set on a loop, repeating so many times they had become something of a mantra.
You shouldn’t be doing this, you shouldn’t be doing this.
I was as far away from that watch tower as I could get.
Michael figured if anything came at us, it would be by the gravel road, though it’s always good to cover all your bases. He spread everyone out along the wall, from end to end.
Except nothing ever came.
It was lunchtime, it was cold, and nothing had showed up. Awesome.
“Kasey, can you meet me at gate tower two?” John said over the radio.
I sat up in the chair (I had been kicked back, relaxing), and pulled the walkie from my belt. “What’s up, John?”
Gate tower two was where I had been positioned for the bow shoot. I did not want to go back there. Not yet. I spun the swiveling chair around so I could look over towards the gate. It was pretty far, but it looked to me as if everyone had gathered at that section of the wall.
Oh God, that was a zombie I killed last night, wasn’t it?
Ben was suddenly sitting next to me. “You killed a kid.”
Shut up
.
“Just like you killed me.”
Shut up!
“Not sure. Get on over here would ya?” he answered back.
“Shit.” I clipped the radio onto my pants, took one last look around, and began the long walk to the gate.
The top of the wall was three feet wide. You couldn’t fall asleep while you were walking. If you did, it was a long drop. I decided to keep my eyes on the walk directly ahead of me. I didn’t want to look over at the others and wonder what the hell they were looking at and talking about. If I did, then my mind would start throwing all sorts of crap at me. A minute later I stood outside the platform, hanging back so as not to draw attention to myself.
It didn’t work.
“Kase, come over here.”
Michael was looking over Troy, Eric, and Todd’s heads at me. I mumbled to myself and eased past the guys, stepping up into the platform. Everyone else stood in a loose circle, all with very distressed looks on their faces.
“Did you notice anything about the runners here last night?” Michael asked. I stepped up to the circle, looked around at all their faces, and shrugged.
“No, other than there were kids with them this time.”
I had
definitely
not forgotten that little fact. I wanted to give in to the paranoia I was feeling. Then I remembered the night before and how I had reacted during the meeting. If these guys
looked
worried, they probably were. And it was probably not about me.
Michael curled his finger at me, in a “come here” gesture, and turned towards the ledge.
“I’d rather not, thanks.”
Okay, I was starting to panic and all the rational bullshit I could think of wasn’t helping. That kid was over there and I couldn’t look. Absolutely could not.
“You need to look. There’s something we missed last night. All of us,” Mia finally spoke up.
This time her voice didn’t have that accusatory edge to it and she seriously looked like she was shitting her pants. I raised a brow at her, thoroughly confused now, and glanced around at the others again. Nancy worried me the most. There were tears in her eyes.
This is going to be so bad.
I solidly stepped up next to Michael and looked straight down. Yep, there was the dead girl, right where I’d left her. My stomach flipped and my eyesight went fuzzy, but someone had grabbed my upper arms to steady me.
“Come on, Kasey, pull it together. I need you to focus, look at that girl, and tell me if you know her,” Michael whispered to me.
I whipped my head around and stared hard at him, then replied in my own hoarse whisper. “What the fuck do you mean, do I know her? Of course I don’t know her. I don’t know her! She was just another goddamn zombie, that’s it!” My voice had risen to a shout in three seconds flat.
That’s also how long it takes to go from boringly sane to batshit crazy, in case you were wondering.
“Kasey…Kasey!” Michael shouted in my face, shaking the crap out of me. A last snap of my head brought me around.
“What?”
“Breathe,” he said, and then he smiled. He raised both his eyebrows, and just
smiled
at me. The sort that breaks right through. It made me ask myself,
what else can I do
?
So I breathed.
“That’s better. Okay, I’m gonna ask you again. Don’t freak out on me,” he said very softly. “Do you know that girl? Look again if you need to, this is very important, Kasey.”
His last statement was what caught my attention: “This is very important.” I tilted my head and looked back over the ledge. This time there was someone on both sides of me holding onto my arms; Michael on one, Mia on the other. The dead runner looked the same at first, like my cousin Rayna. I did everything I could to force that image out of my mind. I
knew
it wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. It was just my mind playing tricks on me. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, I saw the runner for who she really was. Clear as a bell, so clear I couldn’t believe I had missed it before.
“Oh my God.” I actually leaned over the ledge slightly, trying to get a better look. My mind was as clear as the identity of the girl below me. “That’s…holy shit, that’s
Lucy
.”
“That’s what we were afraid of.”
Michael let go of my arm and stepped back into the circle with his arms crossed, head down. Nancy began to cry now, and Jonah put one arm around her shoulders. Abby covered her face. Mia grabbed hold of my hand and squeezed it tightly, as still as the others, just holding onto me.
That little girl had been one of ours, one of the kids we’d saved from the prison. She had also been one of the kids who’d went back to live in the prison, after her parents had been found and rescued with a group of survivors. I was right; this
was
going to be so bad.
* * *
“I want those bodies burned, right now. Whoever isn’t doing that, I want on the wall. Keep your radios on and your mouths shut. Radio silence unless otherwise instructed, understood?”
Michael was practically shouting orders as he gathered his gear; two handguns, one strapped under his armpit, one on his hip, a rifle slung on his shoulder, and an ammo bag strapped across his chest. John was suiting up the same way, though I had a feeling there were a few blades tucked away somewhere in the big man’s clothes. Everyone scurried off to do as Michael had ordered, everyone except me. I stood back with my arms folded, watching him and John by the front door discussing last minute crap.
“You sure you want to do this? Just the two of you?” I asked after John opened the door. Michael straightened up from tying his boots and stared at me before answering.
“I know what I’m doing. Stay here with the others and make sure things go smoothly.” He turned his back on me and walked past John, stepping out onto the porch. John hesitated, holding the door open and studying me.
“Let me come with you, John,” I said.
Michael stopped in his tracks, a few feet out onto the porch, but didn’t turn around. He kept his back to us, letting John decide this one on his own. Finally John shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
“Not a good idea, girl. Considering…” He sighed, then spun on his heel and shut the door in my face.
* * *
Michael and John intended to make their way to the prison on horseback, first by road, then by woods. Their plan was to set up on the ridge opposite the prison and get a good look before moving in. If the prison hadn’t been overrun, and if it wasn’t still under siege, they would ride straight up to the front gate and demand to see Waters. If the guards wouldn’t let them in, well, they hadn’t planned ahead that far. Either way, something was going on and they were determined to get to the bottom of it. Lucy had been fine when Michael had let her move to the prison. Then she showed up the night before with a pack of runners, a few others of which they also recognized. The lights from the prison were suspicious, as was the fact that no one there had answered Michael on the radio, or even called Michael first if, in fact, shit had been hitting the fan over there, to warn him. It all added up to a drop-your-pants-and-kiss-your-ass-goodbye scenario.
“I think something happened over there last night. And I think Lucy remembered her way to the club.”
“Oh no, man. Hell no. Don’t even be saying that shit to me,” John answered.
The idea of these zombies retaining some sort of memory had been tossed around before, yet no one had ever given it serious thought. It made sense though, if Michael was right, and something bad had happened at the prison first. It was the only scenario that did make sense to him; how else would the little girl end up being a raging dead thing, when she was safe and sound the last Michael had heard?
“I know, I know. It’s a lot to swallow. But think about it, John, and you’ll understand why I said it.” Michael fell silent as they rode, letting John chew it over.
They were nearing the end of the drive, where gravel met blacktop, when John suddenly reined his horse in.
“Hold up, Mike.”
Michael turned in the saddle to look behind him. John was holding his hand up, and when he had Michael’s attention, he curled his fingers into a fist except one; his index finger, pointing to the left towards the main road. Michael turned his head and looked in that direction. He didn’t see anything. He turned back to John, but the big man was tapping his ear with the same index finger he had been pointing with before.
Then he tapped his nose.
Michael’s eyes grew wide when the stench hit his face, whipping his head around to look back down the pavement. That’s when his ears caught up with John’s and finally heard the first hints of screeching.
“Go, go, go!” he whispered urgently and gave the reins a hard yank to turn his horse around. John copied his movements, and in seconds they were both galloping back the way they’d come.
“I think we fucked up, Mike!”
As they were kicking up dust and gravel in the first bend, the front ranks of the runner swarm were turning off the pavement and onto the club’s road. One hundred yards separated them, just one football field. Michael knew the swarm would follow them back to the club, and he also knew they had zero time to try distracting them. Distance and speed were against them this time, so he was left with only one choice.
He pressed the walkie to his lips. “This is Michael. We’re coming back, and we’re coming in hot. All guns be ready, we got runners!” He shoved it into a vest pocket, grabbed the reins with both hands, and kicked his horse on faster.
He glanced back once and regretted doing so; the runners had caught the scent of fresh meat and had closed the distance to fifty yards. His eyes met John’s as they flew past the halfway point of the drive. The big man’s face mirrored Michael’s feeling of defeat. They wouldn’t be able to get through the gate in time, not without endangering everyone inside. They had no idea how large this swarm was, but it was a safe assumption they had either come from or had split off from a larger horde attacking the prison.
To put it bluntly, they were screwed.
“The gate’s open!” John jabbed a finger towards the wall.
The horses were running downhill by this time, closing in fast on the club. The men had broken through the tree line when the first shots started ringing out. John glanced behind him and saw dozens of runners at least thirty yards behind them. He whipped his head to the left and right and saw runners pouring from the woods trying to flank them. Apparently it was a large group and they had fanned out. Michael kept his eyes on the gate, cussing with each breath that it was open but also nearly pissing his pants with relief. John pulled his handgun and started taking shots off to his right.
“Go, Mike!” he yelled, taking down two runners that had threatened to block their way.
John glanced up and saw rifle barrels aiming over his head and firing at the closest runners, giving him and Michael a fighting chance at getting inside. Michael barreled through first, with John right behind him. Jumping off their horses before they were stopped, they ran back to the gate. Jonah and Jake had already slammed the iron gate shut and were trying to push the heavy wooden door closed as well. Gunshots rang out from every direction above their heads, over and over as the shooters up top fought to keep the area in front of the gate as clear as they could until it was secured. It wasn’t enough. A writhing mass of running death hit the iron gate with such force that it broke loose from its hinges, forcing it inward against the sturdy wood that Jake and Jonah were trying to shove closed.
John and Michael ran the last few yards and slammed their bodies against the door. This helped, however for every inch the men pushed, the deadheads pushed back two.