Slow Burn: Bleed, Book 6 (8 page)

“Well, I’m not leaving her there.” I looked at each of them and let them see my defiance.

“Nobody says you have to,” Paul said. “Going there now won’t do anybody any good. That’s all we’re saying. But nobody’s your boss; you can do what you like.”

Gretchen stood up. “We shouldn’t go back.” She pointed at Melissa. ‟Get her in the boat. We’ll skirt the shore until we see a canoe or something with none of the infected around. We’ll drop them off, and they can find their own way back.”

Rachel put herself in charge of getting Melissa into the boat.

We found a kayak in a boathouse filled with somebody’s water toys on the north shore an hour after the sun came up. In that kayak, Melissa and Gerald were paddling away in the distance, and our cabin cruiser was drifting maybe a hundred feet from shore.

With one problem solved to nobody’s satisfaction, I announced, “I don’t know what any of you guys have in mind, but I’m going to go get Steph, and Amy and Megan if they want to come along. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to do it.”

Murphy looked at Rachel and then back at me. “I’m with Zed.”

“Me, too.” Dalhover didn’t look up. He was watching the pair paddle away.

All eyes fell to Rachel, who was looking at Murphy. “I’m not losing you again, Murphy. I’m sticking with you.”

“I guess that leaves us,” Gretchen said.

“You two aren’t locked in with us if you don’t want to be,” I said, “You had it pretty good on your island, I guess, before we came along. I don’t want to cause you any further trouble.”

Gretchen looked at Paul. Paul looked at each of us, but settled on Rachel. “I trust Rachel’s judgment. Rachel trusts Murphy.” Paul nodded to me. “Murphy trusts you, and you trust Dalhover. It’s the transitive property of trust.”

Murphy laughed. “Oh, God, not another professor.

Paul looked a little hurt.

“Don’t mind him,” I said. “He doesn’t like big words.”

Rachel laughed.

“Hey.” Murphy feigned offense.

Gretchen, choosing to be the adult, said, “It’ll be better for us all if we stick together, if we can all work together.”

“Another female boss,” Murphy concluded.

Gretchen laughed and looked at Rachel. “Is he always this way?”

Rachel nodded.

“I don’t want to be anybody’s boss.”

Murphy reached over and gave Gretchen a friendly punch on the arm. “I’m just joshin’ ya. You seem a lot like Steph, a natural in-charge type. I’m good with it.”

“I don’t care who’s in charge or anything like that,” I announced. “We can do anything you guys want. I don’t care. I only want a couple of things. I want to get Steph, and I want to find a safe place to go and get away from all this shit.”

Rachel pointed at Gretchen. “She does a good job at keeping everybody organized and keeping everything running smoothly.”

Paul said, “I’m biased. She’s been my boss for twenty-seven years. I don’t want to be retrained.”

“Fine.” Gretchen looked around at us. “Zed, we’ll find a way to get the girls back.”

“I have a way,” I said. Whether it was macho bluster on my part or matter-of-fact confidence, I continued. “You guys can drop me off near the island after dark. I’ll swim over there with my machete, take care of anybody who disagrees with me, steal a boat, and leave with Steph, Amy, and Megan.”

Murphy looked at Gretchen, “I’m not saying he can’t do it. He finds ways to make shit work out for him, but I think he watched too many action movies in his formative years.”

Rachel laughed at that.

“Zed,” Gretchen said, “Let’s work together on this, okay? We’ll help you get the girls. There’s no urgency though. If you go tonight, Jay will be expecting you. Let’s wait, they’re in no danger. Remember, Jay values them. Let’s take care of priorities first. Let’s get a relatively safe place to stay. Let’s get some food. And when the time is right, we’ll go get the girls. Okay?”

I hated being patient, but Gretchen was right. “You’re the boss.”

Those among us who’d spent any time with Jay Booth were certain of one thing: he’d blame us for the death of his brother, Jerry, no matter how honest Gerald and Melissa were when they related the story of his brother’s demise. It was also taken as a certainty that Jay would want revenge. With few weapons with which to defend ourselves, we fled, depending on Lake Travis’s two hundred and seventy miles of shoreline, wrapped in countless curves and coves, to give us plenty of places to hide.

Gerald and Melissa would spend the better part of their day paddling a kayak back to Monk’s Island. Once they arrived, Jay wouldn’t waste any time getting into the islanders’ fastest ski boat with his most loyal henchmen, bringing revenge in our direction. With that in mind, the cabin cruiser’s big engine rumbled under the deck and we split the water, racing up the winding length of the lake.

I was sitting in the back of the boat, eyes closed, the wind buffeting me while I seethed. I hated Jay for what he’d done to us the night before. It irked me to think about what he might be doing to Steph. I hated running away.

Murphy sat in the back of the boat with me. Unfortunately, so did Freitag. Dalhover was rummaging around in the cabin, seeing what he could find. The others were gathered at the helm, making a plan. I was making my own plans, thinking about the best time and the best way to get back on the island, perhaps administer a little rough justice to Jay and his buddies, and rescue Steph.

Murphy, never content with quiet time, said to Freitag, “Don’t get me wrong on this. I’m thankful and all for what you did. I just don’t get it. Why’d you help us? I thought you hated Zed.”

Curious about the answer, I listened, but Freitag said nothing.

Murphy asked again, “Man, you might as well spill the beans.”

That was apparently all the prodding Freitag needed. In her delicate, vulnerable voice—a guise, I was sure—she asked, “Am I in danger now? Did I make a mistake?”

I said, “Don’t buy it, Murphy.”

“Buy what?” he asked.

“She’s playing her helpless act on you,” I answered. “She’s a lot tougher than you or me.”

Murphy looked at Freitag. “So, you’re tough?”

“No,” she answered.

“Yes, she is,” I said.

Freitag turned angry dark eyes at me. She was regretting her choice to help us.

“Look,” I said, “I’m not being mean. You don’t need to play the woe-is-me game. I think you have a talent for manipulating—”

“You are a pig.” Freitag turned in her seat so that she could look out behind the boat. “I should have let them kill you.”

“Listen.” I waited for Freitag to look back at me.

She didn’t want to.

I tried to take any sense of confrontation out of my tone. “Please turn around. Let’s talk.”

Without saying a word, Freitag turned, making it seem as if she’d been tortured into compliance.

I said, “Thank you for helping us. Thank you for helping me.”

Freitag nodded, but just barely.

Continuing, I said, “I don’t mean to insult you. I really don’t. I think you’re really good at hiding behind a vulnerable façade, but—”

Freitag frowned and started to turn back away.

I reached over and put a hand on her arm.

She looked down at it as though I was diseased.

I guess I was. I pulled my hand back. “You don’t need to play games with people to get your way. You don’t need to pretend you’re something you’re not. All I was saying is that you’re a lot tougher and smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

“So you’re going to say nice things, so you won’t feel guilty because I just saved your life.”

“No,” I shook my head. “That’s not it at all. I still think you’re mean, ruthless, and vindictive, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see your positive characteristics, as well.”

Murphy laughed loudly.

Freitag spat, “And you’re a reckless, egotistical cockroach.”

Murphy laughed again, “Zed the cockroach. This is some funny shit.”

“A cockroach?” I was offended.

“Because no matter what anybody does,” she said, “you just crawl out of the rubble like nothing happened.”

I thought about it for a minute. “So that’s a compliment?”

“If it makes you feel good to be called a cockroach, then yes.”

“Jesus,” I said. “If you hate me so much, why’d you help us?”

Letting go of her control, Freitag raised her voice, “You may think you’re some high and mighty good person, running around and trying to be the hero all the time, but you don’t see that other people are good, too.”

Murphy laughed some more.

I nodded. “Okay. So you’re a good person. Is that what you’re saying?”

“I just saved your life.” Freitag sneered so expressively that I thought she might lean over and bite me. “You hate me and that’s fine. But you saved my life in the cove last night. I just repaid the debt, that’s all. We’re even.”

“Okay, but I don’t hate you. Why do you hate me?”

“For what you did to Harvey.”

“Who the fuck is Harvey?” I asked.

“You chopped off his hands,” Freitag spat, “with your stupid little sword.”

“Oh, Bird Man,” I said. “He shot Murphy in the head. What the fuck was I supposed to do?” I’d raised my voice. My anger was slipping out. I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. But you know what happened. You know it was a bad situation.”

Freitag looked at the deck and then back up at me. “I can’t forgive you for it. And I don’t want to.”

“Fine. Now that we’re even, do I need to worry about you fucking me over again?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because.” Freitag looked at me with open hate on her face. “You’re a piece of shit. You always will be. But I know you won’t fuck me over first.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because you could have killed me in that house when you stuck me with that canoe with the hole in it.”

Murphy laughed. “That was a funny story.”

“I told you,” I said, “I’m not a murderer.” Though just saying it I knew I was trying to convince myself as much as her.

Dalhover came up out of the cabin with a handful of items, one of which was a hammer. He crossed the deck and extended the hammer handle to Murphy. He said, “I thought you’d like it.”

Murphy accepted the hammer. “Not as good as my hatchet, but it’ll do. Thanks, Top.”

Dalhover nodded and turned to say something to Gretchen.

Freitag said, “I would have killed you if the tables were turned.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” I responded, shaking my head. “You may think you’re that kind of person, but you’re not.”

“You don’t know me very well.”

I looked her up and down as though I was going to read some information from her clothes, from her shape. Mostly I was just thinking. I said, “You could have killed me when you ditched me down the river.”

“I thought I
was
killing you.”

“No, if you’d really wanted to kill me, you could have shot me, or let me jump in the water to swim out to the boat and run me over. If you’d wanted to kill me, you could have.”

“Maybe I’m just not very good at killing.”

I sat back in my seat. “I think you’re just not as bad as you think you are.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know,” I countered, and then asked, “Are we good?”

“We’re fine. Just don’t ever try to touch me again.”

I reached a hand over the stern, cupped some water, and made a show of scrubbing my hands together in front of her, because I’m just
that
mature.

We’d been on the water for maybe an hour and were cruising slowly past a marina hidden in a cove, looking for a suitable place to hide the cabin cruiser and ourselves. Conversation in the back of the boat had come to a halt after the hand-washing display, and my mood was sinking as I ruminated over the things that were bothering me. Primary among them were Steph and what Jay and his macho dipshits were up to with their hillbilly hunting rifles and their pigment-based sense of superiority.

Memories of what had happened to Amber haunted me. I never got past the guilt of leaving her in that dorm with that band of fucktards. The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if that was exactly what I was doing to Steph, leaving her alone in the hands of fucktards who were going to harm her. The more worked up I got, the more I believed I could wrap a Rambo bandana around my head, sharpen my machete, swim out to Monk’s Island, and kill bad people until the wrongs were righted.

I jumped to my feet suddenly enough that everyone in the boat looked at me, which was just what I wanted. I said, “So, here’s the deal. I’ve thought about this. I don’t care what Jay is or isn’t expecting. I’m going there and I’m getting Steph, Amy, and Megan, too. I don’t give much of a fuck about what Jay thinks he’s going to do about it.”

“That’s a bad idea,” Gretchen said. “I think it’s best if we wait.”

“I understood your argument the first time,” I told her. “Repeating it isn’t going to change my mind. I’m going to do this. I’m not asking for any help. I’m not asking any of you to take a risk and come with me. I’m going to do this because I
have
to. It’s that simple.”

Everyone was silent, probably still thinking about what, if anything, should be said to me about my announcement.

Dalhover, who’d been leaning against the windscreen, said, “You’re just going to head over there with no plan at all, no weapon to speak of except that machete, and hack your way through twenty or thirty people, all of whom might want to shoot you. Is that your plan?”

I wasn’t about to accept the condescension. “I don’t have to have a plan to decide to do something. I just have to decide. I’ll figure it out along the way. Who’s there on the island, Gretchen, a bunch of housewives and accountants? Does anyone there have any military experience? None of the guys that took over the houseboat looked military to me.”

Shaking his head, Paul said, “No, no. You can’t just go over there and kill people to get what you want. We know those people. They’re good people. Some of them are our friends.”

“Some of them might be good people.” I looked at Paul and then at Gretchen. “But the ones that put us on this boat, the ones that decided that we needed to die, those aren’t good people. I don’t know how many on that island are good and how many are bad. I really don’t know much of anything about what happened on your island while we were quarantined on that house boat, but enough of them backed Jay that he didn’t have any qualms about coming out to the houseboat with murder on his mind.”

Gretchen turned away. Paul put an arm around her.

Then I felt a little bit bad. “Look, Gretchen, Paul. I don’t want to hurt anybody but Jay, and maybe some of the dudes on that boat. But I’m not letting them do whatever it is they think they’re going to do. Because I know that whatever Jay is thinking, in the long run, it’ll turn out badly for Steph and everybody else on that island. Jay needs to die.”

Murphy said, “You’re getting a list.”

Shaking my head, I said, “I’ve only got two on my list: Mark and Jay.”

“Here’s what I think,” Dalhover said. “I’ll help you, Zane. But we have to do this smart. The last thing we need to do is get Steph, Amy, or Megan hurt.”

“Thanks.” I gave Dalhover a nod.

Murphy said, “I’m in.”

Rachel said, “If you’re going, so am I.”

“No, you’re not,” Murphy told her.

Rachel stood up, nearly as tall as Murphy and, in her way, just as formidable. “I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, but if you think you can tell me what to do, you don’t know me as well as you thought you did.”

I don’t know why—maybe I’d seen too many movies. I looked at Freitag.

She shook her head and said, “You must be dreaming.”

I shrugged. I didn’t expect her to lend a hand. In fact, I didn’t think I needed anybody’s help. I was more than ready to do it all by myself.

Dalhover said, “Now that we’re all on the same page…we can’t go off on a Zane crusade right this minute. We have to plan and do this smart.”