The Survivalist - 02 (15 page)

“We’ll get that cleaned up.”

“You got the woman,” shouted the man in the bunker. “Now leave, so I can check on my pa.”

“Why did you take her?” he shouted back.

“She was gonna be my wife. Pa said I needed a woman to keep our seed going forward. We didn’t know she was a mute. How’s she ever gonna teach our kids?”

“And you thought it was okay to kidnap a woman, kill her husband in cold blood, and make her carry your sorry offspring?”

“Pa says we have to live different now if we’re gonna survive.”

Tanner turned to the woman. He gestured toward the man he had brained with the bat.

“That one won’t be bothering anyone again, but if you want me to end this seed they’re so hell bent on spreading, I’ll go down and ring the little bastard’s neck. It’s your call.”

She put her hand on his chest and shook her head.

“You’ve got a bigger heart than mine,” he said. Tanner turned back to the bunker. “Don’t ask me why, but she’s decided to let you live. I’d advise that you give us a good five minutes before poking your head out.”

The young woman started walking carefully across the broken glass into the recruiting center. Tanner reached out and stopped her.

“Darlin’, if you don’t mind, I’ll carry you for a bit.”

She thought about it and then nodded, holding her arms out to make it easier for him to scoop her up.

He was amazed at how light she was. No more than a hundred pounds, for sure. He carried her into the recruiting station and placed her on one of the desks. Then he went over and pulled a pair of leather boots off one of the corpses. They were a couple of sizes too big, but he put them on her feet anyway and laced them up tight.

“I’m Tanner,” he said, extending his hand.

She smiled and shook it softly. Then she formed one hand like she was holding a pencil and pretended to write on the other.

He nodded. “Got it. You want a pen and paper.” He dug through the desk and came back with a small notepad and an ink pen with the words “Go Army” on the side.

She took it and began writing.

Thank you for rescuing me. I’m Libby. I’m deaf.

He studied her.

“How long have you been deaf?”

Always.

Her writing was slow and beautiful, like she was composing a love letter meant to be kept forever.

“You can read lips?”

She nodded and touched his lips. Her fingers were gentle and warm.

“You sure you want to let him live?” He gestured back toward the bunker. “He killed your husband.”

She shook her head and started writing.

I’m not married. They killed my neighbor. He was helping me to get out of the city.

“Still, it wasn’t called for.”

He was a good man. I don’t think he would want blood spilled in his name.

Tanner heard Samantha’s voice in his head.
She’s right you know. There’s nothing to be gained from killing that young man.

“Fine,” he said to both of them.

He led her out of the recruiting station into the dark street. Libby rubbed the thin scabs surrounding her wrists, wincing from the pain. As hard as he tried, Tanner couldn’t keep his anger from bubbling back up. They had murdered a good man and brutalized her. If he hadn’t come along, they would have raped and killed her with no regard for her suffering.

“Just a second,” he said. “I forgot something.”

She nodded, studying her surroundings, obviously wondering where exactly she had been taken.

Tanner hurried back through the recruiting station and directly to the outdoor break area. The hatch was still open, and the young man had yet to come out. He took out the Zippo lighter and flicked it once. A tall flame sprang to life. It was a good lighter, he thought, and it needed to be used for a good purpose.

Without saying a word, he stepped a little closer and lobbed it into the bunker. A quick puff was followed by bright yellow flames licking out of the hatch. It quickly spread to the gas can, which melted into a pile of burning red plastic. There was no way out of the inferno, but, just to be sure, Tanner waited until the screaming stopped.

As he walked back out to Libby, he heard Samantha’s chiding.
That wasn’t necessary. You should have forgiven him.

“Hush child,” he murmured. “You should know by now that I don’t have a forgiving bone in my body.”

Tanner explained to Libby that they had to hurry back to his vehicle to check on Samantha. He told her that he had promised to get the eleven-year old home to her mother in Virginia, but he made no mention of her mother’s position. He also explained that he and Samantha had been following the trail of her kidnappers for most of the day. He told her about his escape from the infected and his dumb luck in finding the white 4Runner. As he spoke, she watched his mouth carefully, nodding that she understood.

It took them the better part of an hour to make it back to the alley. Twice, they had to duck into buildings to avoid people on the street. Whether they were infected with the virus or just ordinary survivors braving the night, he didn’t know or care. He couldn’t chance another violent encounter with Libby in tow.

When they finally turned up the alley, Tanner was relieved to see the Jeep where he had left it. He half expected it to be gone. As they came up to the Jeep, he saw that Samantha was asleep on the driver’s seat. His heart thundered with relief. The doors to the vehicle were locked, so he bumped lightly on the passenger side window. She spun around in her seat, whipping the shotgun toward him, and pulled hard on the trigger.

Tanner instinctively ducked, not that it would have made any difference. Fortunately, nothing happened. No explosion. No hail of pellets tearing through his flesh.

Samantha recovered from her panic and hastily set the shotgun down on the seat. She unlocked the driver’s side door and fumbled with the latch. When she finally got it open, she jumped out of the Jeep and ran around to him. Before he knew it, she was hugging his waist with more strength than he thought possible.

“I figured you’d be mad at me for leaving you.”

“I am mad,” she said, never looking up.

He smiled. She would surely give him hell later. He turned so that she could see Libby, who stood a few feet away, watching them with tears in her eyes. Her beautiful face beamed with a warm heartfelt smile, the type that people have in airports when watching strangers returning to loved ones.

“Sam, this is Libby.”

Without letting him go, she peeked around.

“Who?”

“Libby is the woman we’ve been trying to rescue.”

She stepped away from him, a confused look on her face.

“How is it that you just happened upon the woman we’ve been tracking for miles and miles?”

“I live right, eat my vegetables, and help little old ladies cross the street,” he said, grinning.

“Humph,” she said, not buying any of it. She looked Libby over from top to bottom. “So you’re okay, then?”

Libby nodded and stepped forward, extending her hand.

Samantha looked over at Tanner.

“That’s weird, right?”

“She’s deaf,” he said. “Shake the woman’s hand already.”

“Oh.” Samantha reached forward and shook Libby’s hand. Then she looked back over at Tanner. “So she can’t understand a word we’re saying?”

“She seems to read lips pretty well.”

Samantha cupped her hands in front of her mouth as if shouting to him.

“Got it. When we need to talk in private, we do it like this.”

He sighed, shaking his head.

Samantha noticed the gore covering his clothes and began brushing off anything that had come into contact with him.

“What have you been doing?” she asked. “You look disgusting.”

“You don’t want to know,” he said, setting the .44 Magnum on the Jeep’s dashboard. He grabbed the shotgun and checked it. Then he picked up a couple of shells and called Samantha over. Libby followed closely behind.

“The reason it didn’t fire is that you didn’t move a shell up into the chamber.” He showed her how to release the action to finish loading it. “Also, you had the safety on.”

She nodded, lost in thought as she stared off at a large puddle near the Jeep.

“What?” he asked.

“You don’t want to know,” she said, mimicking his reply.

He shrugged. “Okay. Give me a minute, and we’ll get out of here.”

Tanner stepped to the back of the Jeep and pulled off his shirt and pants and tossed them away. He downed a bottle of water and used a second one to wash his face, hands, and chest. When he was satisfied, he dug around in the Jeep until he found a white undershirt and a pair of khaki pants. As he finished putting them on, he looked up and saw Samantha and Libby watching him.

“Better?” he asked.

They both nodded.

He walked over and picked up his pack and the Savage .22 rifle from where he had dropped them in the alley. He unloaded the rifle and handed the weapon to Samantha.

“This is going to be yours.”

She looked at it like it was the vilest serpent ever to crawl the Earth.

“Uh, no.”

“Uh, yes.”

“No,” she repeated, holding it out to him. “Besides, I don’t know how to shoot.”

He knelt down so they were looking at one another, face to face.

“While I was away, what did you do?”

“I hid under the Jeep like you said.”

“And were you afraid?”

She glanced over at the puddle of urine slowly spreading into small streams crawling down the alley, like worms seeking a fresh grave.

“Of course.”

“Sam, you need a way to protect yourself. I might not always be around. This rifle is something you can handle.”

She looked at it again, this time with a little less revulsion. If she’d had it when the creature was there, perhaps she could have defended herself. No, she thought, such a weapon would not have killed that beast. Still, what he said made sense.

“All right,” she conceded. “But I will almost certainly shoot you at some point.”

Before she could change her mind, he stood back up and said, “Fine. Now, let’s get started with your first lesson.”

She shrugged. “It’s your funeral.”

“The rifle is too big for you to shoot comfortably while standing. You’ll either need to take a knee or lie prone on the ground.”

“How? Like this?” She squatted down and held up the rifle.

“That’s good. Now put your lead elbow on your knee. It will help steady your aim.”

She adjusted her stance.

“I feel like a minuteman from the Revolutionary War.”

“Good,” he said. “Now bring your cheek down to rest on the stock.”

She did as he instructed.

“What do you see?” he asked.

“I see a hole in the back sight and a small circular ring on the front of the rifle.”

“Line those up so that the ring is centered in the peephole. What you see at the center of the ring is where the bullet will hit.”

“Oh, so it’s like a looking glass.”

He shrugged. “If you want to think of it that way.”

She swung the rifle left and right as if playing a carnival shooter.

“All right,” he said. “Now, let’s learn to load and unload the weapon.” He walked her through the process of loading bullets into the small magazine, seating it in the weapon, and cycling the bolt to chamber the first round. When it was ready to fire, he said, “Now get back into your shooting position.”

She kneeled, looking up at him.

“Aim at the garbage can down there.” He pointed down the alley. “When you get lined up, squeeze the trigger slowly to the rear. Don’t snap it. Squeeze it.”

She brought up the rifle and looked through the peep sight.

“Now?” she asked.

“I’m not getting any younger.”

She squeezed the trigger and the rifle fired. The garbage can rang as the bullet punched a tiny hole in it. She looked up at him, smiling.

“That didn’t hurt at all.”

“The garbage can might beg to differ,” he said. “Now, run the bolt and do it again.”

She slid the bolt back and a small brass shell flew out. She pushed the bolt back forward, took aim, and fired. The garbage can rang again.

“Two for two. I guess I’m a natural.”

He laughed. “I guess you are. Now let’s get out of here before you have to shoot at something meaner than a garbage can.”

CHAPTER

15

Yumi Tanaka’s heels clicked on the bunker’s metal grating as she hurried to catch up with President Glass. She had only been Chief of Staff for two weeks but was already becoming widely respected as a highly organized and capable advisor.

“Madam President,” she called, waving papers in the air. “A minute, please.”

The president slowed her pace, as did the two Secret Service agents who were escorting her.

“What is it, Yumi?” she asked with a tired but friendly smile. “It’s been a long day, and I was hoping to get a bit of rest. We’re not all quite the Superwoman you are.”

“Yes, ma’am, I understand. But, before you retire for the night, I wanted you to know that we received word from the aerial patrols outside Atlanta.”