Catalyst (Book 1): Decay Chains (20 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

DAYS UNTIL THE SUPERVIRUS GOES GLOBAL: 06:13:04

Every shadow, every tree seemed to be hiding Matt. He was everywhere and nowhere simultaneously. Stormy floundered as she tried to keep up with Purdy’s pace, which was faster than before. She trudged through the path he made to the highway, determined to stay close.

Stan’s flashlight focused on a dot on the far side of his map as he ran to get in front of Purdy. “Should we maybe head to the left a bit?”

Purdy kept up his pace, but looked hard at the map Stan held. He rubbed the bit of stubble on his chin before pulling the map closer. They were all soaked and shivering, but the raindrops falling from Purdy’s chin made it look like he was getting the worst of it.

“We stay the course till we hit the highway and then we follow it to the exit ramp,” he said.

“Yeah, but we’ll be exposed the whole way,” Stan said. “We should turn now, less time on the side of the road.”

“We’re turning,” Stormy said. “Let’s go.”

Purdy deviated from his course. “Fine, but you better not get me fucking lost.”

“Talk to me about something else.” If her nerves were raw, theirs had to be too.

“Wanna talk about how Troy’s after your job?” Stan asked.

“Come again?”

“Stan, you are the only one who can make a reach like that off one conversation,” Purdy said.

“I’m just saying that the more involved they get, the more they say, Troy’s going to want.”

“He’s not like that,” Purdy said.

“I thought they were volunteering. That means we keep control of the operation.” On this, she wasn’t negotiating.

“I just know how these things actually go when you get too many heads involved,” Stan said.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” Purdy said. “We’re on the same team. Don’t ruin this.”

“I’m not ruining anything,” Stan said. “Forget it. I don’t want to make it weird for you with Mina.”

“Leave that alone.”

“Are you still hung up on her?” Stormy asked.

“I said leave it be.”

“Is she still ignoring you?”

“Girls can’t ignore me, not when I try to get attention. Actually, I don’t even have to try, really. I just got it like that.” Purdy punched Stan’s arm. “Unlike some people.”

Stan returned the favor in equal measure.

“Well, that’s weird,” Stormy said.

“What?”

“That your charms aren’t working on Mina when they work on everyone else. I wonder why.”

“Ya’ll just don’t understand the situation,” Purdy said.

“How’s that?” Stan asked.

“I don’t even know why I bother talking to you sometimes. See, Mina is playing the game. She isn’t the type to just go with the natural order of things. She likes to be pursued. Gives the romance a little something and weeds out those that aren’t going to make the cut, you know?”

“So you’re saying she keeps shooting you down and embarrassing you because she really likes you?” Stan said.

“How did you manage to get what I said so messed up so fast? And she didn’t shoot me down.”

“She told you she’d marry Killer before even considering dating you.”

“She didn’t mean it.”

“She said if a super was eating you, she’d go get them a fork and knife.”             

“What are you getting at?”

“I think you’re misunderstanding her.”

“Sounds like that to me too,” Stormy said.

“Ya’ll don’t need to worry about me and my lady affairs. Had no problems before. Don’t have any now.”

“What’s your approach been?” Stormy asked.

“Huh?”

“What have you done to show her you like her?”

“You mean did I buy her flowers and shit?”

“I guess that’s what I mean. What shit did you do?” Stormy tripped and her ankle threatened mutiny. She strained to see the projectiles that littered her path.

“I cleaned her gun for her.”

“Well, that was nice. Did you talk to her? Try to get to know her?”

“I asked her why the hell she had that stupid piece of shit gun.”

“Okay, maybe next time you shouldn’t insult her so much.”

“I didn’t insult her. I reminded her that her gun jammed more that it shot.”

“This isn’t working. Let’s try something else. What does she like?”

“Me.”

“What else? You talk all the time.”

“They don’t talk all the time,” Stan said. “He calls and Mina hangs up on him.”

“Shut up,” Purdy said. “She likes killing supers . . . and the color blue.”

“That’s all you got?”

“What else do I need to know? The girl is fine, shoots marksman, and wants me to lay it down. Nuff said.”

“Maybe you could—”

Stan’s phone rang. “Yeah? Okay. Okay, we’re almost there.” He pointed forward. “They’re waiting on us.”

Dogs barked in the distance and Stormy’s calmed evaporated. “Let’s get there then.”

Running toward the sounds of open roadway would’ve been more fun and less menacing in daylight. Three hundred yards of painful brush and close encounters with spindly trees later, headlights came into view. Purdy ducked out of the trees first and walked along the rumble strips. Cars and trucks zipped past at excessive speeds. He paid them no mind, so Stormy didn’t either.

Until they heard the first gunshot. Then all three kicked into high gear and hauled ass. A car veered off the roadway and the passenger continued firing from directly behind them. Passing traffic honked at the sedan as it skidded on and off the rumble strips like a drunk driver. The group was halfway down the exit ramp when a cargo van cut over and the side door rolled open. Killer’s giant head poked out of the door, steady barking. When he saw Purdy, his tail went haywire.

“Fucking hurry up,” Josh shouted.

The shots kept coming. Purdy threw himself into the van. Stormy was right behind him. The van was moving at a road worthy speed when Stan launched himself at it. He almost became roadkill, and had some choice words for both the shooter and Ian after the fact.

The van rocked back and forth as Ian raced down an exit ramp. He tore through intersections, parking lots, and even a few cramped alleyways like a complete maniac. He lost the tail halfway through his downtown rampage, but insisted on driving in high-speed circles for an additional thirty minutes.

Somehow Stormy felt twice as cold inside the van. “Please shut the air off.”

“Air is off,” Ian said.

She spoke through chattering teeth. “Can you crank the heat then?”

“Right away, boss,” Ian said.

The heat clicked on and gusted stuffy air throughout the cab. She shivered and waited for it to filter through to the back. Killer jumped off Purdy’s lap and settled in front of her. He busied his tongue licking the wilderness taste off her jeans.

“So, who’s trying to kill us today?” Ian asked.

“Cold World,” Stormy said.

“Obviously,” Josh said.

“No, I’m thinking CIA,” Stan said.

“Easy way to erase us,” Ian said. “No paperwork on an operation that doesn’t exist.”

Stan lay down and pulled his arm up over his eyes. “Doesn’t matter. They didn’t get us.”

“That time,” she said. “They didn’t get us that time.”

She watched the world pass by through the window. Even though she had been through a hellish day, she knew that as soon as she got cleaned up, this little incident was going to put them all to work figuring out what the hell was going on. The thought alone exhausted her. After a shower she would put coffee on. She would do nothing until she had hot coffee and had scrubbed the forest off her skin.

A beep preempted Mina’s muffled voice. A clicking followed and then Purdy dropped his cell in his lap. He caught Stormy watching him and smiled. “She wants me.”

Stormy wondered if Purdy only called Mina’s phone to listen to her voicemail message. But if that was enough for Purdy, it was enough for her. She settled into her seat while her mind wrapped itself around the names of the possible organizations trying to do her in.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

DAY ONE—SUPERVIRUS UNLEASHED IN: 01:14:59

Halloween was creepy as hell all on its own. It didn’t help any that it was the night before they headed to Cold World’s next target. Stormy checked everything on the table no less than three times before really running out of things to do, move, sift, and shift. Purdy said she was acting crazier than a cat lady. He was right.

After dinner the kitchen emptied, which never happened. Concern manifested into quick footsteps in search of those familiar faces she would kill for. Faces that she killed for before she even knew the best ways to do it.

Her nerves would be her undoing. She knew she needed to relax. Apparently, the guys did too, since they combined forces to undermine her schedule and watch a DVD. She watched the movie from behind the couch for a second and then disappeared into the kitchen and didn’t come back until she had an appropriate offering.

Josh held his hands in the air. “It’s research, I swear.”

She smiled and held up a bag of fresh popcorn. “Let’s study the enemy in its natural habitat.” She shook the bag, holding its edges to spare her fingertips, and stared in confusion at the flat screen. “I thought they were brother and sister.”

“No, that’s his best friend’s girlfriend,” Stan said.

“Oh, then their kissing makes more sense.” She opened the bag and tossed a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Why did they pick two people with such similar features? They look like siblings. It’s weird.”

The onscreen couple was going at it now. It was awkward for the group of onlookers, who knew they would likely never see any action again, some at all. Nerd virgins, forever.

“Why do they insist on only ever having white folk know how to fight?” Purdy said. “Hollywood does stupid shit. Black people are gone in the first ten minutes of every horror flick.”

“Candyman,” Stormy said.

Purdy bolted around in the recliner and eyeballed her. “Really? You satisfied now that you found one lousy exception to the entire horror movie catalog?” He shook his head and turned back toward the television.

Josh laughed as a zombie interrupted the sex scene. Ian dug his hand into the popcorn bag. “There are never any Asian people either.”

“Or Latinos,” Josh said.

“Hollywood is completely jacked,” Ian said. “According to them, only creepy white men turn into sadistic serial killers with hockey masks and scissor fingers.”

“Don’t forget capes and super strengths. There are more green superheroes than there are black or Asian ones,” Josh said.

“Because crazy, flying, murdering, white people are believable,” Stormy said. “Statistically, white males are most of the real life serial killers.”

“Let’s keep track,” Josh said. “For shits and giggles.”

Purdy snatched his glass off the coffee table and stormed into the kitchen. “Racial profiling right in my damn sitting room.”

Ian slouched farther into the couch. He lifted his feet to the coffee table, thought better of it, and set them down before Purdy caught him. “Race is only prevalent in his life because he makes it that way.”

“You should call him on it,” Stormy said.

Ian leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “Pass. I’ve argued with him enough over eggshells and shower schedules, and God knows what else since we got here. One night left, I plan to savor it.”

The ceiling fan’s reflection rotated off Ian’s glasses. It was the little things, like vision prescriptions that would doom them one day. If the system shut down for good, one cracked lens would make all the knowledge in Ian’s head useless.

When the credits rolled, everyone was right, but no one was happy. The only black character was gone fifteen minutes in and the cause of death wasn’t even zombie related. The cop, which Josh thought might be Hispanic, was the second to die. Her head was chewed off at the thirty-two minute mark. And there wasn’t a single Asian character at all.

“So, who took notes?” Stormy said.

“Killer did.” Ian nudged the completely zonked out dog.

Killer didn’t even respond. He only acknowledged Purdy’s action lately. He followed his trainer’s every move. Not in a hunt for treats, but for attaboys, which Purdy distributed so sparingly they still possessed heavy meaning.

Purdy muttered something about packing and the drive and then disappeared upstairs. Stormy felt bad about not having the common sense to have built this down time into their schedule beforehand. How was it that she was the only one who didn’t know how or when to wind down? It came so naturally to everyone else. She leaned her head back into the couch and watched the credits. They all should’ve gone to bed hours ago, but what she really wanted was for the guys to pop in another DVD and hang out a while longer.

“So, how come you all mutinied in the living room?” she asked. “It could be your last Thursday night, you should’ve gone to a bar or something.”

“Yeah, we should’ve headed to that trap next to the general store,” Stan said.

“I’m too tired to go anywhere,” Josh said.

“Pick up some stranger with more tattoos then teeth?” Ian said. “Some people might’ve. I’d rather be exposed to the Super-flu than an STD though.”

“Really?” Stormy asked.

“My mother would never forgive me for contracting herpes,” Ian said.

“If we ever leave you home, it won’t be to find girls,” Stan said. “One of you is enough around here.”

“Stormy, I know you don’t like it when we bring it up, but since this has always been about him—”

“Josh, you really know how to ruin everything,” Ian said.

“No, let him talk,” Stormy said.

Ian kicked Josh’s shin anyway.

“But you should know this isn’t all about Matt.” For the first time since Reamer, his name left her lips with ease. She almost lost her breath when she realized she wasn’t holding it and wasn’t bracing for the pain.

“It started with him,” Josh said.

“True.”

“I just wonder about you guys, that’s all,” Josh said. “People say they’d raise hell if someone murdered their loved one, but they don’t actually do it. There aren’t too many people who would really go through with this.”

“I can’t speak for other people and what they do or don’t do.”

“But you can speak for you.”

“I’m trying to, but I don’t get what you’re asking me.”

“Was your relationship that awesome that it’s worth this?”

“Yeah, Stormy,” Ian laughed. “Did Matt have a face like Jesus?”

“Not funny.” Stan warded their questions off and leaned in at the same time.

“You want to know if Matt was a good person or if our relationship sucked?”

“The second one.”

“No, not really. We weren’t like other couples. I was over-loved. But this isn’t just about a relationship that ended. I hurt for Matt. He was a great person before. I wish you all had the chance to really know him. But then again, the way it turns out, it’s probably better you didn’t. That way I’m the only one . . . ” She wanted to say the only one with mixed feelings, but that let on too much. Before she implanted doubts in their heads, she had to finish her sentence. “Carrying this. You shouldn’t have to carry all this too.”

“You don’t have to carry this on your own,” Stan said.

“I won’t have to much longer. Everything is about to change.”

One of two things was about to happen. New terrifying images were about to replace the ones that haunted her now and end with her killing her former boyfriend. Or she would be dead, and most likely at his hands.