Spore (28 page)

“Your mother? She can’t plan shit. Our wedding, our choices.”

“Fine with me. I’ll muzzle her myself if I have to. Maybe lock her in a trunk and ship her to Nepal.”

Still grinning, she let out a yawn. “All right. You win. You’ve made an honest woman out of me.”

“About damn time.” They shared one last, long kiss.

As he pulled away, her hand trailed across his cheek and over his lips. “Now go. Save the spores.”

Part Three

Harvest

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sean almost turned back twice. Once in the lobby, far more crowded than it had been at suppertime, and again at the car. He looked to the sky, the moon, the stars, the clouds gathering in the northwest, and he allowed himself one moment to cry and pray.

Her room faced the other parking lot, but he kissed his fingertips and held them toward the row of patient-room windows, some dark, some lit. “Love you, babe. Be here when I get back.”

Heart breaking, he wiped the tears from his cheeks and started the car.

As he pulled out of the parking lot, he was nearly creamed by a silver Ford driven by a woman who looked just like Mindy. She didn’t swerve, didn’t flash her brakes, she just roared past like a crazed shopper on bargain day.

Sean took a calming breath then turned toward home.

Todd sat in the back seat, fiddling with a case of guns while Mindy barreled across town. Nine minutes remained when she backed out of his driveway, four when they passed the hospital. She slowed to a comparatively sedate thirty-two to take the corner to lead them past the tree-filled lot behind the house, and the Ford’s back end skittered and knocked over a recycling can. She straightened and floored it.
Almost there. Almost home.

“You ever shoot before?” Todd asked, loading a gun.

The wooded lot lay just ahead. She slowed, flicking off her lights. “Yeah. Shotgun. Used to hunt rabbits with Dad.”

“Here. Clip this on the keychain,” he said, handing over a mini Taser, about the size of a penlight. “The safety’s on the side, like a flashlight. I’m taking a chance he’s not going to pay attention to your keys.”

She dropped the Taser on her lap as she eased to a stop. “Got it.” She looked beyond the wooded lot to her old neighborhood. Home of suspicious lesbians. Prison for Hailey Anderson. Future end of Jeff Howard, dipshit banker and all around crappy human being.
Deep breath, Mindy. You can do it. Save Hailey, then worry about Jeff.

“You don’t have to do this,” Todd said. He gripped her shoulder with one heavy hand.

“I’ll get her. Don’t worry. He doesn’t scare me anymore.” Mindy snapped the mini carabiner-clip onto Todd’s key ring. “It’s on.”

“You don’t have to worry about the buttons, all right? It’s also pressure sensitive, so just pop off the cap and punch it at him. It’ll stun him for about ten seconds. He starts moving while you’re helping Hailey, stun him again. There should be six good stuns in there before it loses its punch.”

Todd pulled his hand away and muttered a curse. “It’s not much, but it’s the best I can do. I don’t have a gun small enough for you to conceal.”

She shrugged despite the frantic slam of her heart. “It’ll be okay. You’d better get going or we’ll both be late.”

“Yeah,” he said, gathering up his weaponry. He opened the back door and started out, then paused. “Hey, Mindy?”

“Yes?” she asked, turning her head to smile at him. He looked haggard but determined in the glare of the Ford’s dome light.

He leaned close, stretching to reach her, and gave her a quick, light kiss on the mouth. “Be careful. And thank you.”

She felt herself blush but, instead of lowering her eyes, she touched his face. “You just get there in time to save my bacon.”

“Deal.” Then he was out the door and running for the trees.

Mindy made a three-point turn before rushing back the way they’d come. She drove up a few blocks, over one, then sped toward the house so she’d arrive from the correct direction with a minute to spare. In a neighborhood of sleepy homes, one house stood illuminated, shades drawn but every indoor and outdoor light on, including the basement.

She jerked the car to a halt in front of the neighbor’s house and got out. Flicking the keys in her hand and imagining jolting the piss out of Jeff’s balls, she stomped to the front door.
Isn’t he going to be surprised? No meek Mindy this time.

Teeth clenched, she slammed the side of her fist on the doorbell and casually held the keys in her pocket, thumb resting on the Taser cover.
Come on, Jeff. Don’t want to keep me waiting.

She heard heavy footsteps and the door opened.

She took a step back, mind reeling. He was familiar, but definitely not Jeff, not with the flat-top haircut and beefy muscles under a worn workshirt.

Oh, shit! That asshole cop!

“Mrs. Howard. Was beginning to wonder if you were going to make it,” he said, then grabbed her arm and yanked her inside.

Sean sagged from exhaustion. It was just starting to spit rain as he climbed out of the car. No deputy, no picketers, no anyone other than two zombie hunters sitting on his front steps.

“Hey, dudes,” he said as he fumbled through his keys. Two weeks of this madness and he still wasn’t used to unlocking his front door.

“Yo,” one said, making room for Sean to climb the stairs. Lean and bearded, he passed a paper sack covered bottle to the other, and his stocky partner took a good long drink. The bearded guy sniffled then sighed.

Crap.
Key ready to insert in the lock, Sean paused. “What’s wrong? Why are you here so late all by yourselves?”

“Em died,” the stocky zombie hunter said, passing the bottle back. “She was cold and dead when we woke up this morning.”

Aw, hell.
“Emily? The lady with the braid?”

“Yeah. Sucks, man,” bearded guy said, rooting around in his ear. “Lost our woman, lost our home. What a fucking day.” He took a sip and burped.

Our?
“I’m so sorry. She seemed nice.”

“She was fucking awesome,” the bearded guy said, flicking something off his finger before passing the bottle over.

Stocky held the bottle but stared at the sky. “Yah. Good job, good cook.”

“Good in the sack.”

The two men sighed, nodding, and the bottle made another round. Stocky burped. “Buried her in your backyard while some other folks were burying their kid. Hope you don’t mind.”

Sean shrugged. “Nah, it’s cool. I’m kinda used to it. Not sure why everyone wants to use my yard, though. I’d think most anyplace that’s damp would do.”

“Because you’re Sean, the spore guy,” the stocky one said. “The news keeps telling everyone it’s you. You missed a helluva night, though.”

“Oh?” Sean said, not really caring about picketer nonsense. “What happened this time?”

“Your neighbor lady? The purty black gal? Her daughter went outside and never came back.”

Sean felt his belly drop.
Steffie? God, no!
“She
what
?”

“Yup. Creeper got her, right around dusk, they think. Cops all left maybe twenty minutes ago.”

“Jesus,” Sean said, reeling as he looked toward Nic’s house.
Steffie! Oh, baby girl.
He took a staggering step.
I should go see if I can help look for her. Something.
“I… I’ll talk to you guys later, okay?”

“Nah, don’t bother, dude,” the stocky guy said. “The mom and the little boy took off hours ago. Came by asking for your woman, but we didn’t know nuthin’ ‘bout it.”

Bearded finished his sip then looked up at Sean. “Hey. Where is your woman, anyway? Saw you tear out of here with her this afternoon.”

“Hospital,” he said, sitting beside them to watch the clouds roll in. His throat clenched.
Mare. Steffie. Goddamn.
He swallowed another sob then said, “She started bleeding and no one will tell us why.”

“That’s harsh, dude.” Stocky passed the bottle to Sean.

“Yeah. Not knowing sucks.” He took a swig and coughed. The mystery beverage was cheap and harsh. Burned all the way down.

Bearded chuckled. “Got ourselves a lightweight, Rog.”

Rog nudged the bottle back toward Sean. “Take another drag, Mr. Casey. It’ll clear your pipes.”

“Sean. Just Sean.” He shook hands with his new drinking buddies and noted the bearded guy’s name was Chuck. Sean took another sip and managed not to cough. The burn wasn’t as bad the second time. He returned the bottle to Rog.

“So why you here instead of at her side?” Chuck asked.

“Shit to do,” Sean sighed, frowning at his sleeping neighborhood. “Comic’s not done and I have spores in the basement. Might be kids. Might be groundhogs.”
Steffie’s gone, Mare’s dying. What the hell am I gonna do? How will I survive?

Chuck leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Hmm. I don’t think they’re groundhogs.”

Sean grasped the bottle when it came his way again and took a swig. “I don’t think so, either.”

“Yep, wrong time of year for Punxsutawney Phil,” Rog said.

All three laughed then Chuck contemplated Sean. “What I want to know is why kids are in your basement.”

“My uncle. I think he’s been killing them. No one will believe me.”

“Fuck, dude, I believe you,” Rog said, holding out the bottle.

Sean declined this round. Three was enough to make his head feel just a little hazy. “Really?”

“Shit, yeah. He’s one creepy ass dude. Come and gone at least twice tonight. Rattles around your house for a few then sneaks off to your neighbor’s again.” He nodded his head to the north, to Earl and Ruby Simmons’ place.

Sean clenched his teeth.
Earl and his goddamn dog. No wonder I always have nightmares.

“Done it most nights,” Chuck said, looking up as Sean stood, hands balled at his sides. “Ah, dude, you didn’t know.”

Sean shoved his key into the lock. “Nope. He’s here most nights, eh?”

“Yeah, the last few anyway,” Rog said, standing. “Back and forth, and back and forth. It’s like he’s checking an oven to see if a pie’s browned yet.”

Sean knew what was cooking beneath his bedroom and it wasn’t pie. He unlocked the door and muttered, “Great. Thanks.”
Wish you would’ve mentioned it days ago.

Chuck stood and popped his back. “Em made fantastic pie.”

“Oh don’t get me started on her pie.” Rog finished off the bottle and whispered, “Rest in peace, darlin’.” He pulled off the bag and tossed it aside before slamming the end of the bottle against the concrete steps.

“What the hell?” Sean yelped, turning to see the jaggedy bottomed bottle winking in Rog’s hand.

Rog blinked, confused. “This?” he asked, holding it like a weapon. “He’s in there now. Thought you might want backup.”

Chuck hiked up his grimy trousers and Sean saw Emily’s military-issue pistol peeking out of his pocket. “We’re drinking buddies now, dude. And I don’t tolerate no kiddy killers.”

“Me, either,” Sean said. “But you’re both drunk. Can you call the sheriff, ask for Deputy Anderson to come over? He knows what’s going on.” He took a breath and pushed the door open.

Mindy landed on her gut, sprawling face down on plush, cream-colored carpet that smelled like vanilla. The two women tending the yard the day she’d spored lay together in the corner, both with tidy round holes in the middle of their foreheads. Mindy caught a glimpse of their clasped hands then she scrambled to her feet and lunged toward the hall.

A crystal lamp lay on the floor beside the couch. She snatched it up as she ran past, ripping off the shade and tossing behind her. Every door stood open, every room had been ransacked, and she saw no sign of Hailey.

Neck of the heavy lamp clenched in her hands like a stubby bat, she put her spine to the linen closet door and watched the cop saunter toward her. “Where’s Hailey?”

He held his hands wide. “I dunno. What’d you do with her?”

Mindy grit her teeth then screamed, “Where is she?”

She heard a muffled squeal and a crash from the basement.
Hailey! Just gotta get past him, get down the stairs… Crap!

“You’re trapped, Minders. Is that what he called you? Minders? Such a stupid name for such an expensive, fucking bitch.”

He stepped closer, within range of the lamp, but Mindy made herself freeze, quivering, as he lifted a lock of her hair. “Your old man told me I could play with you first,” he said, pulling the lamp out of her hands and tossing it aside. “I could even be rough if I wanted. Teach you some respect.”

His breath was hot on her cheek, his hand heavy on her breast, pinching, hurting her. “I never get to be rough, and to get paid for it… Well, that’s just a double bonus.”

“No, please,” she said, flinching away from his cruel kiss. She gasped for breath and released a low squeal while, in her pocket, she flicked off the Taser’s cap. “Please don’t hurt me. I’ll do whatever you want,” she said, voice trembling. She swallowed and stilled her panic.
Never gonna be a victim. Never, ever again.

He held her against the linen closet door with one forearm crushing her ribcage and his other hand reaching into the top of her dress. “Handcuffs. Maybe my belt. This is going to be fun.”

Mindy pulled her hand out her pockets to struggle for him, to fight, and she felt his grin along her cheek in the brief moment before she slammed her fist against the side of his throat.

The sizzle filled her ears with an enormous crackling roar and he arched away from her, his voice caught in a silent scream. She pulled her hand away and he fell, twitching and writhing on the floor like an animal that had been struck by a car. Teeth clenched, she pushed away from the closet door and leapt over him, scrambling to the kitchen and down the basement stairs to find a sprawling tangle of wet clothes strewn around a fallen kitchen chair. The air reeked of gasoline.

Mindy stepped into the sodden mess.
Good God, was he going to burn her?!

“Hailey!” she called out, frantic and sliding through the ruined clothing. She found no sign of the child in the game room, the laundry, nowhere in the tangle she could see. “Where are you?”

The floor above her creaked, his steps heavy and stumbling, and she heard a terrified whine behind her.

Hailey had scuttled behind the water heater, hands and feet bound and her mouth covered with packing tape. Gasoline had soaked her hair, her clothes, her skin, and her eyes were wide and terrified.

“It’s me,” Mindy soothed, climbing into the narrow space with her. “We’re the same, remember?”

Hailey nodded and sagged with relief.

Mindy ripped off the tape and whispered, “Be still,” while she worked to untie the binds at Hailey’s wrist.