After: Whiteout (AFTER post-apocalyptic series, Book 4) (6 page)

“Sleep,”
said the female clinging to his back, only she delivered the word like a curse.
DeVontay rolled free of the man beneath him and slammed backwards, driving the
wind from the woman’s lungs. She released her grip but the man was already in
attack mode, wet clicks rising from his throat and his eyes glinting like a
furnace.

DeVontay
wedged his knee between his body and the attacker, gaining enough space to
maneuver his other hand to the flare. He twisted the cap free and worked the
ignition as Hilyard had instructed, and the flare erupted with scalding red
light and sputtering sparks.

The
brilliant cone of illumination revealed DeVontay’s attacker as an older man,
maybe in his sixties, although his strength and ferocity was that of someone
half his age. With his rounded features and toothless mouth, he might have been
someone’s grandfather mere months ago. But now he was a savage killer, his
vocalized clicks become mushier as he forced a word with great effort. “
Sssshleep
.”

As
the man bent DeVontay’s leg forward, closing the distance between them,
DeVontay jammed the signal flare forward until its frothing tip penetrated the
man’s mouth, shutting him up. But he didn’t scream as sizzling nitrate and
sulfur dribbled from his lips. DeVontay pulled the Ka-bar knife from his belt
and shoved it in the mutant’s heart. The creature jerked and spasmed for a few
seconds and then lay still with a final gurgle.

The
female rolled to her hands and knees and scuttled towards DeVontay. He yanked
the flare from the dead Zaphead’s face and waved it at her, hoping it would
keep her away. But she seemed to make no connection between the pyrotechnic
device and her own vulnerability to its heat. She was clad in a cotton dress
that bore rips from hem to neckline, filthy bare flesh flashing in the gaps.
Her eyes looked even wilder as they reflected the flare’s burn, like a gasoline
slick blazing on a dark lake.

DeVontay
sensed movement along the edge of the flare’s reach, and he wondered how many
Zapheads were in this pack. He was going to need help. “Hilyard!” he yelled.

Hilyard’s
name was repeated across the forest—three, four, maybe five voices. DeVontay
had no spatial sense. His world was the dimming circle of light extending from
the hissing tip of his Orion flare and the Zapheads closing in on him.

DeVontay
held out his knife. Just before the woman reached him, something swung from the
behind her and struck the back of her head with a moist
thwack.
Campbell stepped over her fallen corpse, holding his rifle by the barrel, blood dripping
from the plastic stock.

“Why’d
you have to raise hell?” Campbell asked. “You made me miss my nap.”

“Where
were you?”

“Something
was kicking up leaves and I went to check it out. That’s my job, right?”

DeVontay
turned in a circle, holding the flare above his head. Its fading light barely
penetrated the trees and boulders around them. “Did you see any others?”

“No,
but I heard them. I don’t know how many, but they’re out there.”

As
the flare burned out, dying with a final sputter and arc of a few sparks,
DeVontay stepped over the corpses and picked up the rifle the first Zaphead had
dropped. “It was carrying a gun.”

“Good
thing for you it was too stupid to shoot.”

The
residual light of the flare left him temporarily blinded. But his tactile examination
of the weapon confirmed it was similar to the one they’d found in the woods
earlier. That means it had likely belonged to a soldier in Hilyard’s unit.
“This one must have seen those soldiers shooting each other. How long can we
count on them staying stupid?”

“So,
they’re adapting. They still die, though.”

“Did
you hear them talking? They said ‘sleep.’”

“They
didn’t mean anything. They just repeated what you said. We already know they’ll
mimic us. Damn, DeVontay, you sound like you expect them to turn into The
Incredible Hulk or something.”

DeVontay’s
eyes had adjusted to the darkness again. He fumbled for the gun’s safety and
found it was released. The Zaphead had been carrying a live automatic weapon.
Could
have made chocolate Swiss cheese out of me.

He
slid his knife back into his belt and headed toward the lean-to.

“Where
do you think you’re going?” Campbell asked behind him.

“To
check on the others.”

“The
lieutenant can protect them. If you go down there, the Zapheads might follow
you right to them.”

“We’re
all in danger if there’s a bunch of Zaps around.”

“You
forget one thing, DeVontay.
We’re
adapting, too.” Campbell came out of
the shadows into a shaft of moonlight. The night mist swirled above the forest
floor, like the movie set of a dark fantasy land. He held his firearm to the
sky, Zaphead blood dripping from his elbow.

“I
guess I owe you thanks for saving my life. And thanks for saving Rachel, too.”

“Well,
don’t get used to it.” Campbell headed toward the rocky terrain to the west of camp.
“I gotta finish my rounds.”

DeVontay
felt a flush of shame at thinking Campbell had abandoned them. “I’ll relieve
you after I check the camp and warn Hilyard.”

“I’m
not sleepy anyway.”

DeVontay
slipped through the trees, listening for unusual sounds, but all he heard was
the soft creaking of trees and distant birds. He checked the horses once more
and backtracked to the lean-to. Hilyard was asleep, although still sitting
upright. It was too dark to see the others.

He
gently shook Hilyard by the shoulder. The officer awoke with a start, bringing
a pistol-wielding hand toward DeVontay’s face before recognizing him.

“Zaps,”
DeVontay said. “We got two of them but there’s probably more.”

“Damn.”
Hilyard rubbed sleep from his eyes but the gesture removed none of the
accumulated exhaustion from his face. “We’d better be ready to run if it comes
to that. Wake your crew.”

Hilyard
activated the battery-operated light on his wristwatch. The boy stirred, but
the blanket beside him was empty.

Rachel
was gone.

CHAPTER
FIVE

“Hard
to tell from these tracks,” Hilyard said.

Dawn
had just broken, morning mist wreathing the forest floor and trees rising from
it in dark lines. DeVontay had wanted to search for Rachel in the night, but Hilyard
forced him to wait. A search would be pointless and dangerous, and they’d be
far more likely to run into Zapheads than Rachel. DeVontay reluctantly agreed.

“I
don’t know how you can tell which tracks are hers,” Campbell said.

He
still carried the rifle he’d taken on patrol, apparently claiming it as his
own. DeVontay didn’t care. He was too worried about Rachel to focus on
protecting them anyway. Besides, somebody had to look after Stephen, who busied
himself leading the two horses. The animals were laden with their gear and
Hilyard’s remaining food supplies.

“You
said you killed two Zapheads last night?” Hilyard said.

Campbell
pointed the muzzle of his gun up the trail. “Yeah,
right up there.”

Hilyard
swept one boot across the damp leaves. “Too much traffic around the camp. No
telling which way she went.”

“If
she even
went
anywhere,” Campbell said.

“What’s
that supposed to mean?” DeVontay asked.

“Maybe
she was taken. Maybe she stepped outside to do her business and got snatched by
Zapheads.”

Stephen
pressed his face into the neck of the nearest horse as if unwilling to confront
the possibility. DeVontay shot Campbell a harsh glare and said, “You were the
one on watch when it happened.”

“Hey,
I can watch twice as good as you. Or does that glass eye give you X-ray
vision?”

DeVontay
balled his fists, knowing his anger was mostly driven by helplessness. But he
welcomed the anger regardless. The world with its unseen threats was too big to
fight, but at least it would feel good to punch this asshole.

He
took three strides forward, and Campbell didn’t flinch, resting one forearm on
the butt of his rifle.

Hilyard’s
commanding voice broke the pastoral silence of the morning. “Are you guys going
to kill each other before Zapheads, Sarge’s troops, or starvation can do the
job? God’s already made a fuck-up of this world. I wouldn’t be in a big hurry
to see what surprises He has waiting in the next.”

Stephen’s
shoulders shook with barely controlled sobs. DeVontay nodded grimly at Campbell—
Your time will come, asshole
—and went to the boy, giving him a manly hug.
“Be strong, Little Man. We’ll find her.”

The
boy looked up, eyes and nose moist. “I’m not sure I
want
to.”

DeVontay
knelt in the mud so they were eye level. “She’s still Rachel. Don’t forget
that.”

“She’s
one of them.”

“No,
she’s not.”

“Maybe
she is,” Campbell said. “Hell, for all we know, she went with them voluntarily.
Did you notice that her eyes start sparking whenever some of them are around?”

“That’s
enough,” Hilyard said. “Conjecture won’t get us anywhere. We need some facts.
Let’s go check those dead Zaps.”

Campbell
shrugged and headed toward the giant tumble of
boulders, whose gray faces looked like slabs of ice on an alien ocean. DeVontay
helped Stephen guide the horses forward, and then fell back with Hilyard, who
scanned the fog on all sides.

DeVontay
lowered his voice so Stephen couldn’t hear. “So, you’re sticking with us.
Nobody would blame you if you left us on our own.”

“When
I was commissioned as an officer, I took an oath. I swore to support and defend
the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and
domestic. I assume that includes Zapheads, too.”

“Does
the Constitution even exist anymore?”

“I
imagine the original copy is still squirreled away in D.C., unless the Zaps
burned the city.”

“But
now there’s nothing to back it up. It’s just words.”

“That’s
all it
ever
was. And as long as one free man lives, so will the
Constitution. As far as I know, the human race hasn’t surrendered yet.”

“Glad
to hear that, Lieutenant. And thanks. From all of us.”

“What’s
the deal with your buddy up there? He’s got murder in his eyes. And there’s
more to it than a love triangle.”

DeVontay
ignored Hilyard’s use of the word “love.” That word was even more idealistic
than the U.S. Constitution. “He’s just rattled like the rest of us. The
difference is he doesn’t have a fallback plan. I’ve got Stephen—and yes,
Rachel—to live for, Rachel has her grandfather, considering he’s still alive,
you have your sense of duty, and the best he can hope for is to hang on the
fringes of our little group.”

“I’m
a little uneasy over the way he’s gone crazy over that gun.”

“He
can handle it. He saved my life last night. If he really wanted me dead, he had
his chance.”

Hilyard
nodded. “You know him better than I do, so I hope you’re right.”

Campbell
was just visible ahead, his form merging with the
mist and becoming invisible for seconds at a time. DeVontay had the sense that
they were on an island floating high above the Earth, and that any wrong step
would send them over the edge. The horses didn’t seem troubled by the lack of
visibility, although they were already laboring from the uphill grade. They’d
be lucky to make it another day, assuming the group kept climbing rather than
following the trail back down into the valley.

“Over
here,” came Campbell’s voice from the fog ahead.

DeVontay
rushed forward and grabbed Stephen by the hand. “Leave the horses. They’ll
stay.”

He,
Hilyard, and the boy hurried up the trail to where Campbell waited, staring
down at the ground.

“It
was right here,” Campbell said. “And I know she was dead, because I bashed her
skull so hard her brains leaked.”

They
studied the muddy gouges in the ground, the dark spatters of blood on the
leaves, and the disturbed foliage. “This is the place, all right,” DeVontay
said. “But where are the bodies?”

“Maybe
they carried them off,” Campbell said. “I’ve seen them carrying their dead
before. And not just Zapheads. Us, too.”

“Like
dolls,” Stephen said to DeVontay. “Like they did in Taylorsville, trying to
make them look alive.”

“We’re
not going to end up like that.” DeVontay didn’t want to think of Rachel as a
plaything.

Hilyard
walked twenty yards uphill, scanning the ground. He turned and said, “Did you
come up this way when you were on duty, Campbell?”

Campbell
stood a little straighter, relishing the officer’s
recognition of his contribution. “No, I stayed below the rocks. It was too dark
to wander around.”