The Dead Series (Book 2): Dead Is All You Get (9 page)

We spent the rest of the afternoon doing target practice, followed by a CrossFit workout in a corner of the gym. It just about killed me, considering my bad shoulder and my leg. By the time we were finished, I was drenched—and sore.

“What is this, basic training?”

“Lightweight,” Holly said.

When we got outside, I almost tripped on a step. Evie was waiting for us, wearing a backpack.

“Where have you been?” Holly said.

“Around,” Evie said. “I’m glad I found you two. I’m heading out.”

“We heard they interrogated you,” I said.

“Tried to.”

I checked my watch. It was after five and getting dark. I was starving and suggested we go over to the cafeteria. Inside, dozens of people—soldiers and civilians—ate at long tables. We found an empty table in the rear by the entrance to the kitchen and kept our voices low. Only Holly and I ate.

“So, where will you go?” I said.

“I’ll find a place for the night. Tomorrow, I’m going to Robbin-Sear.”

“But you can’t walk it—it’s too far,” Holly said.

“I’ll figure something out. Anyway, I need to learn more about the outbreak. Hell, there might be an Emmy in it for me, if I can get out of this rat hole.”

“I think you should stay here,” I said. “With us.”

“I can’t.” Evie lowered her voice to almost a whisper. “It’s not safe for me here.”

“Are you worried about Black Dragon?” Holly said.

“Let me put it this way. There might be other forces at work.” Then Evie brightened. “So, want to come with me? It’ll be an adventure.”

Holly and I looked at each other. I wanted so badly to say yes, but I knew how Holly felt. Though we hadn’t entirely given up on solving the mystery of what happened in Tres Marias, we needed to be careful.

“We just signed on,” I said.

“What, you’re working for Black Dragon?” Evie said.

“Yeah,” Holly said. “I’m pregnant, and we really need the money.”

“I see. I don’t blame you. Hey, no worries. Our paths might cross again.” I could tell Evie was disappointed as she got up from the table. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” Holly said.

Evie touched my shoulder. “By the way, an old friend of yours says hi.”

“Most of my friends are dead.”

“He said if you ever needed another bullpup, he’s got plenty.”

“
Guthrie Manson?
Where did you—” But she was already walking away, raising a defiant fist.

In the early days of the outbreak, Landry’s friend Guthrie had been a lifesaver, equipping us with a lot of powerful weapons. He and his wife, Caramel, and their two grown sons lived deep in the forest. I was relieved to hear they were alive, smoking dope and holding their own against the draggers.

“I never thought I’d hear that name again,” I said to Holly.

“I’d love to meet him sometime.”

“You never know.”

We watched as Evie left the cafeteria. I wondered what she would find out there. And I knew my curiosity would only grow as the days passed.

Back at our trailer, we found Griffin sitting on the steps talking to the Latino soldier she’d played cards with when we first arrived. He was leaning against the trailer, and I noticed that he didn’t have a weapon. He was even bigger than I remembered. When Griffin saw us, she got up quickly.

“Hey, Griffin,” I said.

“Hi, Dave. Um … You remember Fabian Lopez. Fabian, these are my …”

“Guardians,” Holly said. “Holly and Dave.”

“Hey,” he said, extending a hand. “Glad to meet you ‘officially.’ I hope you don’t mind I stopped by. I wanted to say hi to Griffin.”

“Thought it might be time for another poker lesson?” I said. He didn’t answer. “So … ‘Fabian,’ is it?” I knew damn well what his name was. “How old are you, son?”

Griffin turned crimson and gave me the stink-eye, but I held my ground, my eyes never leaving Fabian.

“Nineteen, sir.”

“Huh. I didn’t know Black Dragon hired so young. I noticed you don’t have a weapon.”

“I’m an intern. Haven’t earned the right yet.”

“Would you like to come in for a soda?” Holly said, trying to cut through the arctic chill of my interrogation.

“Naw, I gotta get back.”

“Okay, then,” I said.

“Well, see you, Griffin,” Fabian said and headed off.

Inside the trailer, Griffin let go the fireworks. “I can’t believe you embarrassed me like that! He was just being friendly!”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “I’m sure that’s all it was.”

“Dave, you don’t have to be so hard on him,” Holly said. “He was pretty polite.”

“Look, he
is
a nice guy, I’ll admit,” I said. “But he’s
nineteen
, Griffin. You’re fifteen. Am I the only one around here who can do the math?”

“I hate you,” she said and stormed out of the trailer.

Holly stood there glaring at me. “What?” I said.

“Look, I agree he’s a little old. But Griffin’s a young woman, Dave. You need to lighten up. These things are bound to happen.”

“Not on my watch.”

She laughed. After the first few seconds, it irritated me. “You’re jealous,” she said.

“What?” I said, sensing my voice was too high. “No, I’m not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“Holly, I hope you’re not suggesting that—”

“No. Dave, no. But I do think you’re jealous the way a father would be if another guy looked at his daughter the wrong way.”

“That’s crazy talk. I’m practically a kid myself.”

“Fine, have it your way.” She began tidying up the trailer.

“I’m not jealous, dammit.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m going for a walk.”

I wandered the grounds for a time, attempting to dissect my own feelings about the girl we’d come to think of as our own. Could Holly be right? Before I could think more on it, I saw Springer crossing the campus with a stack of files.

“Hey, Springer.”

As he stopped to greet me, everything slid from his hands. I helped him pick up the papers.

“Let me ask you something,” I said. “What do you think about a fifteen-year-old girl hanging out with a nineteen-year-old guy?”

“Dude, I’m the wrong guy to ask. Me, I’m looking for a girl with long legs and a short memory.”

“Can you be serious for one minute? I’m talking about Griffin.”

“Figured. And Lopez, right?”

“Yeah. I mean, he might be an okay guy and all, but …”

“But he’s a
guy
. And you want to protect her.”

“Well, yeah.”

“If she was twenty and the dude was twenty-four, would you have a problem?”

“I guess not, but she’s
not
twenty—she’s fifteen.”

“Fifteen ain’t what it used to be, Dave. Besides, he knows you have a gun, right? What do you think he’s gonna do? I have to go.”

“Thanks, Springer.”

Getting advice about women from Springer was like asking Taco Bell if chimichangas were bad for you. But he did have a point. I found Griffin sitting alone under the oak tree, pulling up blades of grass and putting them into a little pile. She didn’t see me as I approached her.

“Look, I’m sorry,” I said.

She refused to meet my eyes as I sat next to her. “That was
so
embarrassing, Dave.”

“My heart was in the right place.”

“We were only
talking
.” She turned to me, her face defiant, tear streaks on her cheeks.

“Look, Griffin, I overreacted. But I’m trying to protect you.”

“I know.” Her voice became soft, and I knew she was mulling it over.

“Tell me something about him.”

“He’s from Salinas. His parents came from Mexico when he was a baby. They spent their teen years in the fields, picking fruit and vegetables. He’s a writer. Well, he hasn’t published anything.”

“Wow, you know a lot. What does he write?”

“I don’t know. Stories and stuff.”

“Do you like him?”

“Yeah, I do. He’s nice. I mean, I’m not, like, in love with him or anything. We’re becoming friends.”

“Anyway,” I said. “I’ll try to behave. But you have to promise me that you won’t do anything stupid. And you know what I’m talking about.”

“Dave, you’re unbelievable. You know what happened to me.” She picked up a dead leaf and ran her index finger over the delicate veins. “I lost my innocence a long time ago.”

“That wasn’t your choice. It was taken from you. Griffin, look at me. In my eyes—in Holly’s eyes—you’re still an innocent girl deserving of respect.” She hugged me. I could feel the wet on my shoulder. “And if he or any guy ever tries to hurt you, you tell me.”

“Okay.”

I kissed her head, got to my feet and started to walk away.

“Dave?” I stopped and turned to look at her.

At that moment she no longer seemed like a kid to me, the tall girl with the heavy eyeliner and the fingernails painted black who came to us once looking for protection. Now, I saw the sandy hair pulled back in a ponytail, modest makeup and the kind of poise Kate Middleton would appreciate. Or at least a Kate trained to handle a military-grade weapon.

“Thanks,” she said. “For caring, I mean.”

“No problemo.”

She smiled in a way that shattered my heart. I walked off to find Holly and tell her that she may have been right about Griffin after all.

Evie was dead.
Looking spent and sleep-deprived, Warnick delivered the news.

“Draggers?” I said as he entered the trailer.

“No. She was shot.”

“What?” Holly said.

“One of our units found her on patrol this morning, in an alley not too far from here.”

Griffin was out walking Greta, and I was glad she wasn’t around to hear this.

Holly took a seat on the sofa and, tucking her legs beneath her, fought off tears. “But who would do that?”

“Someone who didn’t want her asking a lot of questions,” I said, glaring at Warnick. “We can’t let this lie. Warnick? Right?”

I hadn’t meant to take my anger out on my friend, but at that moment he represented for me everything that was wrong with “the program.” First Chavez, now Pederman. I didn’t trust anyone, and it made me gut-sick.

“I already spoke to Pederman about it,” Warnick said.

“Yeah, I’m sure that helped.”

“Dave, can you not act like an idiot for one minute? He agreed to let me look into it.”

“You mean,
really
look into it or just pretend?”

“Dave, give the man a chance—sheesh!” Holly said, getting to her feet. Then to Warnick, “What about the police? Can they help?”

“That’s an interesting situation,” Warnick said. “Apparently, the entire force has been replaced. Pederman doesn’t want them involved yet—he wouldn’t say why.”

A chilling sadness came over me. We’d spent so long battling evil forces in the town. And let’s not forget the undead. Evie had been the one bright spot in a sea of blackness. For me, she’d represented a way for us to make sense of everything—a way to bring order. Now, she was gone. And despite her cheery outlook I was beginning to lose hope.

“So where’s the body?” I said.

“In the hospital morgue. We’re waiting for the autopsy.”

“Who’s performing it?”

“A Doctor Fallow.”

“Isaac Fallow?”

“They brought him down from San Francisco today. He might already be over there.”

“Let’s go,” I said, getting my gun.