The Dying of the Light: Interval (35 page)

“Any sign of Shaw?” I asked the pilot, who shook his head.

“No, sir. Denson said he ducked out of the plane nearly before it had stopped rolling.” He frowned, and I raised an eyebrow. “Just… unprofessional, sir. Not like an Air Force pilot to do that.”

“Well, give him some slack, Colonel. He’s been stuck by himself in a zombie-surrounded airport for six years, not knowing if his wife is alive or dead. I’m sure he’s here somewhere, tracking her down. Let’s go say hello to our fearless leader, shall we?”

Archer walked with me toward the other plane, with Myers following a few seconds later as he noticed our departure.

“That’s fine, sir, and I get that,” Archer continued. “But why should he have to track her down? Shouldn’t she be out here waiting for him?”

That’s a damned good point
, I thought.
And where the hell is Atkins? Or this Warner character, for that matter? Something’s rotten in Antarctica
.

“You can’t shoot her, Harold,” said Warner.

“Why the fuck not? We shoot her, dump her with the others, and tell people she escaped,” Duncan replied.

“Escaped? Again? From a cell built specifically to hold her? How? Where would she go?”

“It doesn’t matter. We can come up with something. Once we’re a thousand miles from here, no one will even care anymore about one blonde bitch who can’t keep out of other people’s business.” Duncan looked through the makeshift cell bars at the nearly-comatose form on the cot inside. He’d been here for twenty minutes, trying to decide what to do with her, and had almost figured out the best plan, until Warner had shown up and cocked everything up.

As usual.

Duncan drew his pistol, lining up his shot on the girl. If he hit her just right, the small round of the pistol
might
just bounce around in her brain-box, liquefying the inside without causing much of a mess outside. It didn’t really matter, though. He could always just burn the place down and make it look like an accident.

Except for the asshole Warner, who stepped in front of the gun. “I told you, you can’t shoot her.”

“Move, Doc, or I’ll do you, too.”

Warner’s eyes widened in surprise. “You wouldn’t.”

“The things I’ve been doing for you, Doc, and you still think I’d care about putting one in you instead? Man, you have got some ego. Now get the fuck out of my way.” He moved to brush Warner aside, but the other man didn’t move so easily, and struggled with Duncan. The scientist was stronger than he appeared, and Duncan realized he must’ve been getting more protein than he should’ve.
Just like I have been
, he thought.

For Harold Duncan, what was in his meals was less important than how often he got them. At heart, he was a practical man, and so long as there was some sort of food around, he wouldn’t go hungry. ‘The ends justify the means’ wasn’t so much a philosophical question for him, but rather a way of life. Morality didn’t really enter into it.

Now, Jack Warner was rapidly approaching Duncan’s personally-defined threshold wherein Warner would cease to become useful and merely become an obstacle. And if there was one thing he had
always
been good at doing, it was removing obstacles. So when he started to shift the muzzle of the gun toward the scientist in their struggle, it was with more than a little pleasure that he noticed Warner’s sudden realization of their changed relationship.

On the other side of the planes, at the edge of the crowd, Shaw kept his voice low as he interrogated Atkins. “Where is she, Jim? They told me you’re the one they’ve been talking to. It should have been her.
Where is she?
”

“Look, Bill, when you guys didn’t come back, things went a little… sideways. You have to understand…”

“Perhaps I wasn’t making myself clear, Jim,” said Shaw as he pulled his jacket aside to show Atkins the pistol tucked into the pocket. “I don’t
have to understand
anything. You’re going to take me to her, and you’re going to do it
now
.”

“But Warner…”

“
Now
, Jim.”

Atkins had seen the look Shaw had now in other eyes before, a few times. Usually it had been just prior to one of the Lost disappearing. Who knew what demons the man had, after spending all that time amongst the walkers?
Discretion is the better part of valor, Jimbo. Live to fight another day, and all that
. “Fine, fine.”

He motioned to a nearby Jeep, and the two got in and began their drive without anyone from the crowd so much as turning their heads to watch them go. Atkins glanced over at Shaw, who still had that edge-of-insanity look on his face and one hand inside his jacket. The meaning was clear, even to Atkins. The edge of one the hard drives in his pack dug into his side as he made a turn quickly, heading for the main station.

Shaw looked over the small outbuilding near the Hub, obviously not recognizing it from when he was last here. “What is this place?” he asked.

“Uh, well…” said Atkins as he stopped the Jeep and got out, slowly coming around the front of the vehicle. “We needed some place to keep… well, it’s just… Oh, the hell with it,” he said, sighing and slumping back against the car. “Look, Bill, when you didn’t come back, Jennifer took it hard.”

Shaw nodded. “Me, too.”

“No, you don’t understand, Bill. She… she went a bit gonzo. She lost it. Kept to herself for months, then finally, slowly started to come back. Then three years ago, she tried to kill Jack. Out of the blue, no warning. Came at him with a knife in his office, and he barely survived. Only reason he isn’t dead now is we took away her guns the first time she went crazy.”

Atkins noticed Shaw had remained silent and still, and the look on his face made Atkins want to run until his feet wouldn’t hold him up anymore. “It was only sheer luck that Duncan happened by and managed to restrain her. Jack’s kept her in isolation ever since, with her screaming half the time and not saying anything the other half. And the things she says… horrible, evil things, Bill. They couldn’t keep her in the marshal’s office—she was keeping everyone awake and even broke out twice.”

Shaw leaned forward and spoke in quiet tones. “And how do you know all this for a fact? Were you there? Did you see it happen? Have you heard her screaming?”

Atkins shook his head. “No, no, I heard the screaming sometimes, but the rest was all testimony from Duncan and a few others and… Warner was the one who…” He stopped for a second, surprise crossing his face. “Wait, you don’t think… “ His eyes widened as the possibilities slowly sank in. “Surely not…” He put one shaking hand over his eyes, unable to meet the colonel’s gaze.

Shaw’s eyes were steely. “You let
Jack Warner
lock up my wife for three years, on
his
say-so, without ever investigating? You never thought to ask
why
he did it?” Shaw drew the pistol and held it to Atkins’s head, his hand shaking with anger. “My
wife
. For three
years
, Jim. I should kill you just for allowing it to happen.”

Atkins didn’t move, didn’t even dare to breathe. He almost wished Shaw would pull the trigger, knowing what he now knew. He wasn’t certain he would’ve been able to stop, were the situation reversed. When Shaw pulled the gun away, he couldn’t believe it, and looked up in astonishment to find Shaw looking down at him.

“But you’re too important, too
vital to the mission
for me to do that. You’re the reason we’re here in the first place, the only reason I made it back at all. So if I have to—”

There was a shout from inside the small building, and a gunshot. Shaw turned and raced for the door, and Atkins was only a step behind.

The blast of cold air from the outbuilding’s door surprised both Duncan and Warner, who were fighting over the pistol that had just gone off into the wall, and they turned to find Shaw standing in the doorway with a pistol of his own.

Duncan took the opportunity to shove Warner away from him and towards Shaw, covering them both with his weapon.

“I think it’s time we had a chat, Jack,” said Shaw to Warner. “And hello, Harold. Been a long time.”

“Not long enough,” Duncan answered.

“That’s OK, I never liked you either.” Shaw spared a glance for his wife in the cell, and if he had looked scary before, that was nothing compared to what he looked like now.

Atkins backed slowly out of view of the doorway.

Duncan watched the other scientist leave, and they all heard the Jeep’s engines start with a cough. “Guess your friend decided not to stick around, Billy boy,” said Duncan.

“He’s just getting some backup,” said Shaw, fervently hoping that was the case.

Warner started, “I just want to point out that Harold was the one who wanted to shoot Jennifer. I was arguing against—”

“Shut up,” the other two men said in near-unison.

Duncan smiled slightly. “Looks like we’ve got something of a standoff here.”

“Not really,” said Shaw. “I shoot you, then Warner here, then get my wife and leave this God-forsaken place and never look back.”

“Ah, but the question is, can you kill me before I kill you? Wouldn’t that be something? You survive six years of walkers only to come home and watch your wife die as you slowly bleed to death from your own wounds?”

Shaw shook his head slightly. “What the fuck happened to you to turn out this way, Harold? I don’t get it. You were always an asshole, but a murderer?”

“Oh, I’m far, far worse than that, Billy. Just ask your pal Jack here. He’s got quite a story to tell, I’m sure.”

“Shut up, Harold!” said Warner.

“Why don’t you
both
shut up?” said Shaw. “You know what? I’d love to kill you, but I don’t have it in me to be what you are. So we’ll lock you up and you can have a fair trial.”

“Ah, well, see, I just don’t think that’s going to work out for me,” said Duncan. “I’m not really the ‘trial’ type, if you know what I mean. So, I’m thinking I’m just going to say goodbye to the both of you, and get out of here.”

“Oh, really?” said Shaw, as he laughed. “And how do you plan to do that?”

Duncan grinned. “Distraction, Billy.” Before Shaw could react, Duncan swung the gun around and fired once into the cell, the still form on the cot crying out. Shaw’s instant reaction was to rush forward, but he stopped to fire at Duncan, who was… not there. Not one to rest on his laurels, Duncan had taken the moment to get some momentum and thrown himself through the flimsy plywood-and-vinyl wall of the building, landing hard on the packed snow and ice outside.

As Shaw ran to the jagged hole in the building, he saw Duncan disappear behind a corner of the Hub. Shaw spun around and moved to open the cell, but it was locked, Jennifer yelling and thrashing on the cot inside. He turned to Warner for the key, but the man had taken his own opportunity to run and had almost made it out the door when he was knocked to the floor by a fist that came flying through the doorway.

Captain Anderson stepped inside, standing over the moaning figure on the ground, and looked at Shaw. “Need some help, son?”

I wasn’t sure how it had happened, but I was in a second Jeep distantly following Captain Anderson as we all raced for somewhere that someone said was important.
I have no idea what’s going on,
I thought.
Not exactly the first time that’s happened
.

I’d been joined in the Jeep by the station’s resident doctor—a man named Stirling—as well as Marcie Thompson and a man I’d been introduced briefly to as Captain Graves. Though why either of them was along, I also had no idea. Stirling drove like I did, which was more than a little disconcerting when you considered what he was driving
on
was mainly hard-packed snow and ice. I tried not to think about it.

“Where are we going?” I asked, not expecting any of the very intense people in the vehicle to actually answer, but Marcie spoke.

“We’re going to have it out with our dear Mr. Warner, ya know,” she said. “He’s always been something of a jackass, he has, and now that we have a chance to have a little chat about what he’s been up to with wee Jenny… well, it’s about time, is all.”

“Jenny? You mean Jennifer Shaw?”

“Aye, the very same. That’s how we knew to come here when were lookin’ for Shaw and Jim. Shaw woulda made him come straight here, looking for his wife.”

I was still lost, but it was getting a bit clearer. “I must’ve missed something. What’s he been up to, then?”

“Well, according to Sabrina—that’s Dr. Tanner, ya know, Jim’s girl—according to her, Warner’s been lying the whole time about her and why he’s had to keep her locked up.”

“She’s been locked up? Wait, what?”

“Aye, Warner said he had to lock her up since he came at her with a knife, but some are sayin’ it ain’t so and didn’t happen that way. So we’re going to have a look.” Her face took on the look of a woman about to do serious harm to a man, and I’m not ashamed to say I flinched a bit. I’d only seen that look once or twice, and it had never ended well for the man involved. Fortunately, I’d thus far managed to avoid it being directed my way. “She’s my friend, too,” Marcie continued. “And I aim to see what he’s been lying about.”

We arrived a moment later at the shed, with several cars around it and Anderson’s man Denson standing guard outside. I noticed a couple of others apparently following tracks in the snow, on the other side of the building. Stirling was the first out of the car, grabbing his medical bag and rushing inside before Denson could do more than start to raise his hand.

I nodded at Denson as I approached with Marcie and Captain Graves, and he gestured for us to go in.

It was crowded inside, most of us standing on the outside of what looked to be a cell of some kind. Anderson was standing at the door to the cell, with another man trussed up with duct tape on the floor, securely gagged as well. Captain Graves moved to examine a hole in the wall opposite the door, and Marcie flew past me, approaching the cell door, where Anderson took one look and let her through. She joined Stirling and Shaw and, presumably, Jennifer, who was sitting up clutching her side with one hand and holding tight to Shaw with the other. I walked up beside Anderson, making no move to enter the cell. It was crowded enough in there already.