Flesh 01 (33 page)

Everyone’s guns were in their hands, pointing every which way. It was about to be a fucking disaster. But most people targeted the eight remaining strangers in their midst.

Another man opened his mouth, eyes bulging at the sight of his fallen commander. There was a pop from somewhere and then he too dropped.

“Don’t shoot. Please,” one of the strangers said, open palms rising above his head.

“Explain your intentions,” Finn yelled.

The man’s eyes settled on him. He nodded and set down his gun.

“What the fuck is going on here?” Santa bellowed. Erin stood beside him, the gun in her hand trembling.

“We are all going to put down our weapons now,” the unarmed stranger said loudly.

The rest of the newcomers slowly put down their guns. Several wild-eyed men took longer than the rest.

“I’m Captain Sean Manning,” the stranger said. “The two men we just executed were planning on kidnapping some of your females.

That was the payment Emmet was seeking.”

Santa swayed on his feet but his face seemed set in stone. “Is that so?”

“Three more of these men were not openly opposed to this plan of taking your women. But we can’t speak to their intentions. We would request you send them on their way. Unharmed.” Captain Manning pursed his lips, his gaze wandering over his companions.

“Enough people have died. Emmett killed anyone who defied him. He executed men earlier this week for speaking out against him.

These three didn’t necessarily have a choice.”

“But you didn’t trust them enough to include them in your coup?” Daniel asked, keeping a hand on the truck door so Al couldn’t climb out.

“No,” Captain Manning replied. “The fewer who knew, the safer it was.”

Santa nodded, lips pressed tight. Blood seeped steadily from his wound. The man had strength and then some. “I take it the other four of you wish to remain with us.”

“Yes. Please.”

“They have nice manners,” Daniel said.

“Right now we need to clean up the rest of the town. Make yourselves useful and we’l see.” Santa ran his eyes over the men, weighing their worth. “Send your three friends off.”

The soldier nodded, clearly pointed out three of the men. “If any of you show your faces here again you’ll be shot on sight.”

Two started arguing, denying. Their movements were sharp, aggressive. But there were a lot of guns pointed at them. The third dropped his gaze, frowned hard at the ground, his mouth working noiselessly. Finally he looked up, nodded. “Can I have a gun?”

“There’s more in the Hummer outside, Nick,” Captain Manning answered, not unsympathetically.

Nick nodded just the once. The man was tall, well built. Lethal. Out of the three, he was easily the most dangerous. Finn kept close.

The man’s eyes never stopped moving, hands clenching and releasing, but when he spoke, his tone was resigned. “Alright.”

The other two men said enough for everyone standing. Insults mixed with denials. Their hot and greedy eyes slid over Erin and Al. It was all Finn could do not to end them there and then.

“They can stay the night in the lock-up at the police station. We’ll release them during the day,” Finn said. He turned to the men.

“And if I ever see any of you three near town again after tomorrow, I will kill you.”

Ali wound down the window, curious and frustrated and just a little afraid. Her heart would calm down eventually. Probably. “Wil you move your hand, already?”

“What’s wrong with your arm?” Daniel snapped back, throwing the door open himself. He leant down and ducked his head into the cab and kissed her soundly. His hand burrowed through her hair to clasp the back of her head and hold her to him. Like she would try to escape. Idiot.

They had survived. Her men were alive.

Daniel rubbed his lips over hers, nuzzling her face. “Babe, what have you done to yourself now?”

“I’m fine.” Her shoulder throbbed, the joint swollen and hot. “I love you.”

“I love you too. That being said, you can’t lie for shit. I honestly don’t know why you bother.” Daniel’s hand stroked her bad shoulder and she whined, the pain excruciating. Gray dots hovered at the edge of her field of vision. “Damn.”

“I think it’s dislocated,” she panted.

“You’re going to have to pop it back in for her,” Finn said from behind Daniel. “She shouldn’t have been running around in the truck.

She should have stayed locked in at the apartment.”

“
She
can make her own decisions. And you. You have a bullet in you!” Ali shifted around in the driver’s seat, a slow and agonizing process.

“Children …” Daniel chided. “Come on, sweet.”

His big hands gripped her waist as he ever so carefully helped her from the vehicle.

“Thanks.”

“I’m gonna help them run the rest down,” said Finn. One-handed, he checked the remains of his clip. “You get her help.”

And out came her fretful tone of voice. High-pitched and panicky, she didn’t even bother to try and rein it in. “No, you’re not, Finn.

You’re bleeding, aren’t you? And we need to figure out how to get the bullet out.”

“Later.” Finn turned his back on her and reached for his rifle in the back of the pick-up. Dismissing her, apparently, which didn’t work. She knew better now.

“Hey.” Ali slipped her good arm around his waist, pressed herself against his back. “Stop. Turn around.”

With an exaggerated sigh Finn did so, careful of bumping either of their shoulders. The lines around his beautiful pale green eyes were embedded deeply. “Al …”

“I love you.”

He canted his head. “I know, but you need to stay put when I tell you to.”

“Love means sticking together. Thick and thin. Good and bad.” She leant against him, rose up on her toes and kissed him. “I needed that.”

Finn put his pistol on the pick-up’s bed, stroked her neck with the tips of his fingers. The scent of blood and gunpowder was thick in the air. “I need you. I nearly lost you again today.”

She shrugged, put on a stoic face. “Things are bound to calm down eventually.”

Finn sighed, pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m gonna lock you up.”

“You’ll try. We’l fight. There’ll be make-up sex. Life goes on.”

“Sam said there was a dental nurse,” said Daniel. “She can dig out the bul et. I’m probably going to have to pop your shoulder back, babe. Sorry.”

“It’ll feel a lot better once it’s done,” Finn said.

“Okay.” She nodded, lips compressed. Her eyes stayed on Santa, huddled aside with a crying Erin. Things could have been much worse. Daniel and Finn stood beside her, close and comforting. So many dead lay about them. “We got off light, considering.”

Dan stopped to catch his breath. He leant against one of the big old jacarandas. A couple of members of the militia stumbled past, dragging bodies toward the mammoth bonfire burning bright at the top of Main Street. Several of Blackstone’s remaining citizens stood close to the funeral pyre, saying prayers. Mourning. There was no time for burials and no space in the little town cemetery. And fresh blood attracted infected.

Long as he lived, he didn’t think he’d ever forget the smel of the bodies burning. Twenty-one of the townsfolk were dead. A hel of a toll. Lindsay’s body had also been consigned to the fire. So too had the remains of the slain infected, including Rachel and Owen.

Death made all things equal.

Ali and Finn lay tucked up in bed, safe and sound. Finn had wanted to be down here, overseeing things, but Ali wouldn’t rest without him. She’d won this round with the use of big, sad eyes and a healthy dose of common sense. The dental nurse, a lovely lady by the name of Lila, had dug the bullet out of Finn without too much hassle. Fortunately, it hadn’t been deep, but the kid had still lost a good amount of blood. Dan had popped his girl’s shoulder back in. Her pretty face had blanked, and she’d passed out for a couple of minutes, her skin whiter than he’d ever seen. It felt like his heart had stopped. Causing her pain, no matter the reason, was not on his list of things to ever repeat. It had all left his nerves a little raw.

Maybe Finn was right. Maybe they should lock her up. Something to consider. He sighed, hung his head. She’d just figure out how to pick locks.

They were all okay. They were good. Everyone would recover. Unlike Sam.

Dawn neared, the sky a hazy mix of violet and pink in the east. The renewed build-up of infected on the other side of the wall slowly dispersed, the moaning and groaning gradually calming. They’d attracted more than their fair share of attention tonight with al the noise and commotion.

Time was running out for Santa. In the eight to ten hour incubation period a fever took hold, causing the person to sweat profusely.

Skin turned from tan or pink to an eerie gray. With the light of dawn, Dan could al too easily see the toll the sickness took in Santa’s sunken eyes. It was hard to look at him, but even harder to look away. Any minute now, Santa could turn from man to mindless predator. Erin remained at her father’s side, posture rigid and face set. She wasn’t crying. Her hand lingered on the butt of the pistol holstered at her side. Waiting.

Her father was filling his last hours with organizing the small community before the virus took him. Talking to everyone. Solidifying the council. He had already asked Finn to step up and take a seat. Erin would lead them for now. The locals weren’t ready for so much new blood so fast. Finn had agreed.

“She shouldn’t have to do that,” said Sean, the militia captain, tipping his chin at Erin and her pistol.

He and his men had helped hunt down the last of the infected inside the walls. Then they’d moved on to the grisly job of dealing with the dead in a respectful but efficient manner.

Everyone watched the newcomers, waiting for a misstep. Acceptance wouldn’t come easily. Considering how trigger-happy folks were feeling after the carnage tonight, it wouldn’t take much for al hel to break loose once more. The militia seemed to appreciate that fact, moving slowly, wary of spooking anyone. There were lots of sincere nods and wary greetings. As to their true intentions, time would tell. The fact remained that the town needed them. The wal wasn’t without its weaknesses.

And who knew what the hel else was out there, ready and waiting to come at them?

“I agree. Erin shouldn’t have to deal with her own flesh and blood.” Dan stretched, cracked his neck and winced. Another death on his hands. Better his than Erin’s.

They walked toward the small group. A couple of remaining Council members with grave faces stood beside Erin and her father. It wouldn’t be long now. Dan had seen the signs often enough to know.

“Wait,” Sean said, watching the scene with tired eyes. “It’s already being taken care of.”

Two militia men were waiting close by, behind Erin, out of her line of sight.

Santa turned to his daughter and his whole body started shaking, twitching. He clutched his arms to his chest. “I, ahh … I may have left it too late.”

Erin’s face fel but she nodded.

One of the strangers stepped up to Erin, put a hand to her elbow. He leant in close, mouth moving fast. Whatever he said was too soft to hear.

“Let him.” Santa fel to his knees, lips curling back in a pained snarl. “Do it!”

“No!” Erin leapt forward, toward her father, as a low growl escaped him. His fingers curled into claws and his eyes rolled back into his head, tremors racking his body. The stranger grabbed her, hauling her back.

“Dad!”

The second militia man drew and fired, the blast of his revolver echoing through the quiet town, reverberating off the neat lines of old buildings.

Santa’s body tumbled to the ground. Dead.

Erin gasped, mouth slack and eyes wide. The man who held her released her, drawing back. But a hand remained stretched out to her, in case she stumbled.

Daniel swore fervently beneath his breath. Aah, man. What a thing for her to have to see.

Her fingers flexed and closed, flexed and closed as she stared down at her father, lying in an expanding pool of blood. Somewhere in the distance kookaburras started laughing, greeting the dawn. The wood in the funeral pyre popped and crackled, the scent of charred flesh heavy on the breeze. Daniel swallowed back the nausea. Death wasn’t something you ever got used to. Not really.

Erin spun and stepped up to the man who had killed her father. His gun was stil in his hand. Her fist caught him fair in the face, slamming into his cheekbone, leaving a smear of blood in her wake. She drew her hand back again, her intent clear.

The man grimaced, straightened and holstered his gun. He stood tall, not moving an inch, with his eyes wide open, waiting to take anything she had to give him. Not saying a word.

Her fist trembled in the air between them, wavering.

Erin’s shoulders crumpled first, caving in. Her hand fell next, spine bowing and knees folding. She made no noise at all as she knelt beside her father’s body.

Captain Manning nodded at the two men standing guard behind the woman. “They’ll look after her.”

Daniel raised a brow.

“You’d have her live with kil ing her father on her conscience?” the captain asked.

“No. Just curious about exactly how they’re going to ‘look after her.’”

Sean’s tired gaze stayed on him a long time. “We realize we’re going to have to prove ourselves.” He narrowed his eyes at Erin. She remained huddled beside Santa’s corpse. “It’ll be easier for her to hate them than herself, or anyone else here for having to kill him.

They’ll look after her by dealing with his body, if she wants, when she’s ready. They’l make sure no one bothers her if she wants to be left alone. That’s al .”

Daniel rolled out his lips. “Yeah. That’s what I thought you meant.”

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” asked the captain in a low tone.

“No, not particularly. Sure as hell, not right now.” Dan smothered a yawn, widened his stance. “You’l get your chance to prove yourselves. Be careful though. People are going to be edgy for a while. It’d be sad if there were any accidents and one of you got shot by mistake.”