Chapter 22 #2
The driver doesn’t let him finish and slaps him hard across the face.
“She left to go check on you more than a week ago. Her car’s still sitting outside your house, empty.
We thought you two might have run away together, but here you are with these two,” he says, casually pointing to us with the end of his shotgun.
“So that still begs the question. Where. Is. My. Baby. Sister?”
My mind reels as I try to make sense of what they’re saying. Then it hits me. The carrier in the pantry. The one who bit Nurse Patrick. That carrier had once been a woman. Ramsey had said it was his girlfriend.
My heart pounds as I try to decide what to do with this information. Do I rat him out? I’m not sure yet, so I wait.
“WHERE IS SHE?” he yells, startling everyone.
“I never saw her, okay? I haven’t even been at my house. She’s not with me,” he says, panic rising in his voice.
“I don’t believe you,” the passenger spits.
“What about you girls?” The driver’s focus pivots to me and Keisha; the tip of his shotgun follows. “Have you seen my sister while you’ve been following this asshole around?”
Keisha speaks first, thank god, because I still don’t know what to do. “You’re the first people we’ve seen in days, sir.”
“What about you?” he says, turning toward me, looking a little more desperate. “Her name’s Karla. She has dark hair like mine. She’s tall, and she wears a little gold cross necklace.”
Keisha stiffens next to me. She knows.
“I’ve been with her since the start,” I say, gesturing to Keisha. “We got here the day before yesterday. I haven’t seen anyone but the people in this garage. Aside from the carriers, of course,” I say truthfully.
My mind swims as I try to plot an exit. In front of us, four idiots with shotguns block our path to safety.
Beside me stands Ramsey, a pain in my ass who’s made every attempt to sway Keisha to his side.
In the woods, carriers are probably closing in, following the gunshots and loud voices.
We’re running out of time. I need to take them all out in one fell swoop so we can get back on the river and leave this mess behind.
An idea clicks into place. I wish I had time to run it past Keisha, but we don’t have that luxury.
“Unless…” I say, arranging a horrified look on my face, hoping it’s convincing enough.
“Unless what, girl?” the driver says, taking a step toward me. I have his full attention.
“You said a tiny gold cross? Dark hair like yours?” I force more worry into my expression, hoping I’m not overdoing it. Beside me, Keisha widens her eyes as if begging me to stop. Again, I wish I could send my plan to her telepathically. Instead, I just have to hope she trusts me and follows along.
“Ramsey, that wasn’t… You wouldn’t have… Was that his sister?” I say with an accusing tone.
The driver takes a step toward me. “Don’t you talk to him. Talk to me! What did you see?” He points his gun at my chest.
“Don’t say another word, Quinn! You shut your goddamn mouth!” Ramsey says, spitting with each word. “I didn’t hurt her. I would never hurt her!” One of the cousins restrains him as he lunges for me.
It’s working. I just have to stick the landing. “Well, when we first got here, we found a carrier locked up in a pantry back at the boatel. It bit our friend, and he died. It’s just…the carrier that got him was wearing a gold cross necklace. And she looked a lot like you.”
Betrayal flares in Ramsey’s eyes. “She’s lying!” he screams, trying to break free from the man restraining him. But I’m not lying, and he knows it.
Pure rage colors each of the four faces in front of me. Beside me, Keisha whispers, “What are you doing?” Ramsey’s desperate words begin tumbling out. “She was already bitten when I found her! I thought I could find a doctor. I thought she might get better. I couldn’t kill her. I swear I didn’t—”
The passenger fires a warning shot in the air, silencing all of us. “Shut your mouth and drop your weapon, Ramsey. You’re coming with us.”
Ramsey looks at Keisha. She looks conflicted, glancing from him, then back to me.
When she makes no moves to help him, he places his knife on the ground, defeated, then steps forward to meet his fate.
The passenger grabs him by the back of his collar, then slams his fist into his jaw.
A chorus of shrieks and moans fills the forest behind us, and everyone freezes.
I can’t tell how many footsteps I hear, but it’s more than two. And they’re moving fast.
The first carrier emerges from behind the garage, running with a strange jerking gait.
One of the men fires at the carrier, blasting it in the chest. Its pace slows, but it doesn’t stop.
It keeps coming, with two more on its heels, screeching as they reach for the source of the noise.
More rotting bodies flood out of the woods.
I watch in silence as I lose count. Memories of the campsite come flooding back, and my feet itch to run. Instead, I pull Keisha down to the concrete floor of the garage and whisper just loud enough for her and Lucia to hear. “Stay perfectly still.”
Soon, the four men and Ramsey are completely surrounded, their shotguns useless. Two of them drop their guns in favor of knives and begin swinging toward the carriers’ skulls, trying to avoid their gnashing teeth and the black bile flinging from their open mouths with every screech.
It doesn’t take long. The two men who were shooting from the back of the pickup truck are the first to lose their footing.
The carriers lunge for their throats, knocking them off balance and sinking their teeth into the soft flesh under their jaws.
Their human screams turn into bubbling gurgles, then go silent as the ground below them turns red.
The passenger and driver of the truck continue the fight as Ramsey ducks behind them. Soon, he sees an opportunity. He picks up one of the discarded shotguns and uses the stock to bash in the skull of the closest carrier, creating some breathing room.
The passenger goes down next when a carrier sinks its teeth into his leg, leaving the driver and Ramsey fighting side by side.
Soon, only two carriers remain. I can tell Ramsey is exhausted.
He doesn’t have much fight left, and he knows it.
Finally, he sees his chance. In one swift motion, Ramsey sweeps his leg at the driver’s ankles.
The driver falls hard, knocking the air from his chest. Ramsey steps back, and the last two carriers dive onto the driver. They aim their rotting teeth at his neck before he can even regain his breath to scream.
Ramsey looks down at the mess of bodies, exhaustion and rage still coloring his expression.
He searches the ground for a knife and finds one next to the passenger, then plunges it into the skulls of the feasting carriers.
He takes a deep breath, then pushes the knife into the eye of each dead man, ensuring they’ll never awaken.
I stare in awe. I didn’t think he had it in him. Ramsey begins rolling the men’s bodies over, checking their pockets. The jingle of keys tells me he’s found what he’s looking for.
Ramsey turns toward us. His new shirt is completely soaked through with dark red blood, thick black ooze, and sweat. His eyes are crazed, and for a moment fear prickles the back of my neck. He wasn’t supposed to survive this.
Ramsey holds up the keys to the truck and rings them like a little bell.
“Keisha, Lucia, get in the truck. We’re leaving,” he says, stone-faced.
We don’t move from the shelter of the garage. Keisha looks at me, then back at Ramsey. The tarp crackles as Lucia peeks out from behind it, her big brown eyes still brimming with tears and fear.
“Come on, both of you, get in the truck. More of ’em are probably on the way,” he says.
“We’re not going with you,” I say, answering for all of us.
“Quinn, I…” Keisha starts. Before she can finish, fast footsteps slam into the hard-packed ground coming from the forest. A screech rips through my eardrums. The carrier slams into Ramsey, knocking him to the ground before he can react.
It’s a familiar scene. He lies on his back and holds the carrier at arm’s length, its snapping jaws inching closer and closer to his throat, but this time I don’t help.
I walk over and put my boot between the carrier’s shoulders and press down slowly.
“Quinn, stop!” Keisha calls out.
Ramsey fights to hold the extra weight of my boot, shaking with effort, but I’m just getting started. I press down just a tiny bit harder. Ramsey gives a rage-filled roar of effort, but he’s already exhausted. His arms shake harder as he starts to lose the battle.
“Quinn, please!” Keisha begs, but I don’t even look up. My pulse pounds in my ears, and a flood of satisfaction overwhelms each of my senses.
I shift my weight again, putting just enough pressure onto the carrier’s back to cause Ramsey’s arms to give way. His screams die in his chest as the carrier sinks its teeth deep into his throat. I keep my foot on its back and press its teeth deeper into Ramsey’s neck.
When its jaws have done their job, I take a heavy swing at the carrier’s spine, sending its head rolling. I wipe my machete on its clothes, then remove my hunting knife from its sheath, driving it into Ramsey’s eye socket. He won’t follow us now. I spit into his ruined eye.
On the ground, a set of silver keys glistens in the summer sun. I toss them to Keisha.
“We’re leaving,” I growl.