Surge (99 page)

“If he thinks he can handle it, then let him come,” Cory says. “‘He’s trained, so he knows what he’s doing. Besides, it’s no different from being sent overseas. Where’d you end up, Webby?”

“Dropped directly into hostile red zones in Iraq,” he answers as he pulls up his sleeve. There’s a three inch gash on his forearm. “Took a piece of shrapnel here.” Webby pulls his pant leg loose from his boot and points out a bullet hole in his shin. “Shattered the bone here and got six plates along with thirty two screws to put me back together. Earned me an honorable discharge, but at least I came home alive before the outbreak happened.”

“You sure you can handle this?” I ask as I eye his leg. Webby tucks his pant leg back in and scowls at me.

“Fucking positive,” he hisses. “Now, let’s get moving before Ollie has all the fun.” Webby looks away from me, and to the top of the gate. “We’re ready Commander.” I see Morales peer down at us from the top of the tower.

“Bring her back boys,” Morales orders.

The fatigued men salute him before the gate clicks open. Wally takes the front, Ace behind him, with Patsy and Webby making a triangle with Ace. The twins and Tommy make another trio, while Cory, John and make a third. Why we travel in triangles, I’m not sure, but I’m not stopping this train before it leaves the station. Every second we sit around here conversing distances us further from Olivia, so I’ll hold my questions until we either find Olivia, or stop for a break.

<~~~<~~~
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“How much further?” Cory asks.

“About half a mile,” Wally answers. “She had about an hour’s head start on us, so I’d say we made pretty good timing.”

I guess we have, but it could also be said that three hours of marching in the dark to get within a mile of Olivia’s position on the map was pretty damn long. And a little scary, not that I’d admit it out loud. I haven’t been out after dusk in almost two years, so it was a little nerve wrecking to be out in the freaking forest with only the moonlight to guide us. The good thing is that we haven’t seen a single sign of wheezers. When I asked Patsy about it, he confirmed Olivia’s statement about the infected avoiding water. And since we’re surrounded by water on three sides, I guess that explains the reason for the lack of the wheezing bastards.

Which is a good thing because it’s scary enough being out in the middle of nowhere without adding the blindsiding assholes to the mix. The sun’s finally cresting the horizon by the time Wally holds up his hand for us to halt.

“I don’t fucking believe it,” John mutters.

“My fucking car,” Cory says.

Car? I bend to the left in order to see around Webby’s giant ass in front of me. And there it is, a sleek black Jaguar on the side of the road as if it weren’t hijacked over two weeks ago. The Jag looks no worse for wear, but it is abandoned in the middle of nowhere.

“This is where Olivia is?” I ask and glance around. I only see the deserted car. No people in sight.

“This is the tip I gave Ollie, since I thought Blondie was a hostile,” Webby says. “Some random chick showed up about a week ago claiming to be a friend of Ollie’s.”

“When I asked her where Ollie’s from, she said Revere,” Patsy says.

“Ollie ain’t from fucking Revere,” Ace says. “She’s from Boston.”

“She could walk to fucking Fenway Park,” Webby says.

“Yeah, we know,” I say. “But what does Olivia’s old address have to do with anything?”

“Before Ollie first arrived at the compound, our security’s main priority was to keep the infection out and give sanctuary to all surviving individuals,” Wally explains. “Ollie’s the one who told us about the hostile survivors.”

“So, we instilled a few more defensive maneuvers,” Ace continues. “Our gate used to be accessible from both sides, now we have a round the clock guard that monitors who goes in and who goes out. They have to type in three different codes to get the locking mechanism to unlatch the door.”

“Then we have our codes,” Patsy explains. “Each troop leader gets a different number every time they go out, if they don’t know the number when they come back, they don’t get in. That way if some hostile tried to use the old number, it would have already been changed.”

“Charlies or Freds?” John asks.

“Friendlies or foes,” Webby answers. “Another one of Ollie’s tricks. Her strategies are also how she got her name,
‘Ollie Ollie oxen free.’
” The remaining condo group members nod at that. “But back to Revere comment, Ollie’s sent us exactly three people. No more, no less. All of which she gave the third degree to before telling them our location. Along with the location, Ollie gave them answers to three questions, if they knew the answers, they got in, if not, they were sent away. Ollie told them where she’s from which is 4299 AB Westland Ave, Boston, MA, her birth date, which is February 14th, 1995, and her favorite Disney princess which is Belle. Ollie told us which questions to ask and the answers to them, she also said that only people who could answer them correctly were ones that she sent personally.”

“Since Kelly didn’t know the answers, you sent her away,” I say.

“That, and the fact that she seemed a little unbalanced,” Ace says. “Yeah, a lot of people are unbalanced since the outbreak, but she was certifiable. Saying that Ollie
‘was a witch, and that she had to sacrifice her to the devil so that he would call his minions to return to hell.’
” The fuck?

“But we knew better,” Patsy counters with a smirk. “Our Ollie wouldn’t have let some loopy bimbo to get the jump on her.”

“Actually, Olivia was on bed rest when Kelly set the house on fire,” John counters. Wally stops our forward movement abruptly and the four compound members stare at him with rapt attention. “Oh, you didn’t know about the fire?” They shake their heads. “Well, Kelly, that’s the loopy blonde, she set the house on fire that we were staying at. Olivia got a piece of glass stuck in her throat and couldn’t breathe right, so we stayed at a ranch for a few days. When we wouldn’t let the crazy bitch near Olivia, she decided to take matters into her own hands with an attempt at homicide.” John points at my burns, along with Cory’s healing ones. “They got hit with the cross fire.”

“I told you we should have questioned the psycho,” Ace hisses at Wally. “She knew enough about Olivia to give a description which was
‘raven haired slut with fake tits.’
” Tissue tits wishes that they were fake; Olivia’s are 100% natural and unwanted. “That alone should have keyed us in for taking her in for investigation, but Morales said that it was too much of a risk to bring her in without Olivia’s forwarded consent.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t,” I say. “She’s obnoxious as hell, a stage five clinger, with a touch of murderess on the side.”

“Where’d she go then, if you didn’t bring her in?” Cory asks casually. “I’d like to have a little chat with the blonde.”

“Dunno,” Webby replies. “She came in this Jag, but the car’s only moved about thirty miles south from the compound.” Webby eyes the Jaguar with distrust. “I’d say that she didn’t go too far.” Patsy pops open the driver’s side door and leans in.

“Keys inside,” he says and flips it once to see the lights come on. “No gas. I’m guessing that’s why she left it.”

“Pop the trunk,” Oscar orders.

“This bitch stole some of our shit and we wanna see how much is left,” Carlos explains when Patsy gives him a curious look. Patsy shrugs as he presses the button for the trunk. Oscar lifts the lid, and immediately starts laughing.

“What’s so funny?” John asks.

Carlos peeks inside and begins laughing too, so I walk around the car to see what it is for myself. Peering around the twins, I see a balled body hogtied with rope and with duct tape over her mouth. Up further is a tangled mess of greasy blonde hair and bloodshot eyes that are currently glaring at me through one swollen eye, that I’m guessing is courtesy of Olivia. But that isn’t what’s so funny, it’s the sign that’s pinned to the tissue filled chest.

‘Saved her for you, Mouth. Hopefully you find her before she pisses in Cory’s car, because I’m pretty sure that even Lysol couldn’t handle this skank’s mess.’
I laugh as I pick up the receipt Olivia used to write her note, until I feel something weighted on the back.
‘P.S. tell Webby that I don’t like being tracked like a fucking dog, and to work on his stealth moves, since they absolutely suck. He’s about incognito as a shark in a seal tank. Even Sammy seen his big ass slip this little fucker into my pocket.’

Taped to the back of the receipt is a tiny chip that’s blinking. Blinking just like the little dot we’ve been following for four freaking hours. The same little dot that is now stationary, which means that we’re at a dead end.

“She played us.”

<~~~<~~~
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“What do you mean, she played us?” John demands. I hold up her scribbled note.

“She wanted us to find Kelly,” I explain and point at the glaring body in the trunk. “But that’s as far as she wanted us to go.” I pull the tracker off the paper and hold it out in my palm.

“Fuck,” Patsy says and I nod.

“She knew that you put this in her pocket,” I tell Webby. “But she kept it on her until we got here.” I nod my head at Kelly. “Now she’s truly on her own, just the way she wanted it.”

“Fuck that,” Cory hisses. “I don’t need some fucking dot to tell me where to go, I’ll find her myself.”

“We will,” I say. “But it’s just gonna take longer. And then we have to drag this bitch along with us.”

“Why not just leave her?” Carlos proposes.

“Let her rot in the trunk,” Oscar says. “Seems fitting punishment for her, after all, she’d be rotting in a jail cell if there were one still operating.”

“Nah,” I reply. “I wanna ask her if she knows which way Olivia headed.” I glance at the bound woman. “You want to get out of the trunk?” There’s a muffled response. “Then you’ll tell me where Olivia went, and I’ll let you out of the trunk.” Kelly nods, and I go to pull her out, when John does some pulling of his own. He drags me several feet away before talking.

“What the fuck, Jared? She tried to burn Olivia to death, and you’re just going to let her go?”

“Who said I’m letting her go?” I ask and cross my arms. “All I said is that I’ll let her out of the trunk, I never said that I was releasing her.”

“Then what will you do with her afterward?” John inquires and I shrug.

“Toss her to a pack of wheezers, cement her shoes and toss her in a lake, string her up as a piñata, I don’t give a fuck, so long as I never have to look at her again.”

“Fine, let’s do this then,” John says.

I nod and we walk back over to the car. There, I reach inside and grab Kelly’s arm, it’s a little awkward to maneuver her out, seeing as she’s literally hog tied with both her hands and feet bound together behind her back, but I manage it even with my busted fingers protesting the movement. Carlos grabs her knees while I hook my arm under her arms as we lift her out of the trunk and set her on the ground. I wanted to just roll her on the ground, but then I remembered that we need answers out of her and she’ll be more accommodating if we don’t throttle her until after questioning.