Chapter 12 #4
The boys walk ahead of me and I go on scouting duty.
As they take care of the few Bloodies roaming the street, I ease onto the sidewalk, checking in storefront windows for signs of life or the undead.
I wipe dirt from a window and cup my hands around my eyes so I peer inside an ice cream parlor with cute little bears with overflowing cones painted on the walls.
“Front of this one looks clear!” I call over my shoulder.
I continue on down the left side of the street, dubbing four out of the six shops clear, at least at first glance.
The other two have bloodies inside and they’d begun clawing at the glass when they heard the commotion and saw me outside.
There aren’t enough to break through, so I’m not too concerned with them at the moment.
We’ll handle them once we get the street cleared. Easy day.
“Wynn, on your right!” Traeger shouts. Wynn quickly moves out of the reach of a Bloody who had managed to sneak up on that side and he takes her down.
After confirming that Wynn is good, I jog towards the other side of the street to start my job over again.
I squint at the glass of a little boutique as I approach, unable to see inside because of the glare from the sun, but once I’m close, I suck a breath and back hastily away.
“Fuck. This one is full,” I say as Traeger takes out the last Bloody.
Something cracks beneath my boot, broken glass or something, but when I glance down, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.
There are footprints within the dust and dirt on the sidewalk.
Fresh footprints—and they aren’t from Bloodies.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mutter, looking up and down the sidewalk.
There are prints everywhere. People had been here and recently.
I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed them until now.
My thoughts go into overdrive, and I jerk my head around, glancing upward.
Best vantage point is on the roofs. They’ll be up there if they’re still here…
Sunlight glints off of a rifle scope and I scream “Down!” just as shots ring out. To their credit, both of the men listen to me without hesitation and it probably saves their lives. A bullet whizzes past Wynn and he rolls out of the way, quickly scrambling to his feet.
“Rooftop, my two o’clock!” I yell as I fling myself behind a big mail bin, more shots ringing out and pinging against the metal at my back.
Others begin to pop on the other streets as well, yells echoing from all around.
I tentatively peek my head around the corner and a bullet slams into the ground just a few feet away, sending rocks and dirt flying into the air. I grit my teeth.
“Melody!” Traeger yells from across the street.
It looked like he and Wynn had managed to wedge themselves into a small alley between two shops from what I saw before someone tried to shoot me in the face, so I think they’re relatively safe from fire.
The gunmen are only on the roof on the left side of the street, so for now, I’m the easiest target, but I don’t know how long that will last.
“Melody, I’m coming!” Traeger calls.
“No!” I shout. “I’m alright! Get the Jeep and get us the fuck out of here!”
“Fuck!” he yells in frustration, knowing damn well that I’m right.
Getting to the Jeep is the better plan. We need to get out of the immediate line of fire and then we can regroup.
Even so, I hear bullets spraying the asphalt and him returning fire with his pistol as the idiot sprints for the mail bin.
He somehow makes it without being hit and I yank him down beside me.
“You are a fucking moron!” I hiss at him.
He searches me over for injuries, as he if he doesn’t even hear me, his jaw set into a hard line and his green eyes blazing and…
frantic. He grips my shoulder before sliding his hand to the side of my neck in an almost tender gesture.
I’m not sure he even realizes he’s done it.
“Are you alright?” he asks me, voice rough. I blink at the intensity of it.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “I’m alright.”
“I’ll fucking kill them,” he all but growls, eyes wild.
This is…unexpected? He looks like a caged animal whose ready to tear the throat out of anyone who would dare get near him—or who would dare try to hurt me.
Am I imagining all of this? Adrenaline mixed with pent up frustration mixed with all the feelings I’m having but trying not to admit to, all coming together to make me see what I want to see?
I shake myself as bullets ricochet off of the mailbox. Not the time, Morales.
“Hey,” I say gently but firmly, holding his gaze and gripping his wrist, “I’m ok.
” He blinks and shakes himself, as if coming out of a trance or something.
He swallows hard and gives one hard jerk of his head that I’m taking for a nod of acceptance.
“And they’re a shit shot,” I add with a rueful smile.
“We can make it to the Jeep and then come up with a game plan. Alright?”
Traeger takes a deep, steadying breath and nods.
“On three.”
We never make it past one. Wynn apparently has the same idea and makes a break for the Jeep. We peek around the mailbox to see him stumble back as the jeep is assaulted with gunfire. He bolts back to the safety of his alleyway.
“Stay there!” I yell to him. I glance back at the Jeep and grind my teeth. The tires are blown out, and I know without a doubt that the engine is shredded. Ok, plan B: take out the shooter, get to better cover, and find a car to steal. Easy peasy.
“Fuck!” Traeger grits out.
“Give me the God damn gun.” I hold my hand out for the rifle.
Traeger eyes me for a heartbeat and I snap, “We don’t have time for this.
They’re going to move positions soon and our little safe island here will be compromised.
You’re just going to have to trust that I won’t shoot you in the fucking skull, alright?
Now, give me the gun so I can save our asses. ”
He quickly pulls the gun over his head and thrusts it into my hands.
“I trust you,” he says simply.
I smile as I check the weapon. “Alright, on three I want you to pop around that side and fire off a couple of rounds. When they return fire, I’ll light ‘em up. Ready?” He nods. “One…two…three!”
Traeger does exactly as I instructed, and I ignore the flare of panic as our attackers fire at him. I pop up and quickly sight the target, taking out one and then a second. I duck back down as the third sends a spray of bullets our way. Traeger settles back beside me.
“Nice shooting,” he pants.
“Duh,” I say with a grin. I feel almost high, like I’m finally doing what I’d been made to do again. “Ok, now—”
Another round of bullets rains down but not at the mail bin. No, this time they fly into the window of the boutique just to our left, shattering the glass.
And they release a hungry horde of Bloodies not twenty feet from us.