Controlling the Dead (7 page)

Reece visibly swallows and glances behind him. I follow his gaze. The Clap Trap is the same as always. Full of the community’s partygoers, this happens to be almost everyone. The dance floor overflows with sweaty bodies while music pumps through the place. The DJ spins a once popular techno song. The frantic beats don’t cover the occasional gunshots from outside the community—the telltale sign zombies lurk nearby.

Several different bars, looted from various places, make up the Clap Trap bar that is just as crowded as the dance floor. The “art” is a main feature here in the Trap—consisting of famished tied up in assorted ways. It’s grotesque, but I’ve gotten used to it. Mostly, I ignore it.

Sometimes the zombies are even people from the community that have been bitten and decide to turn. For the sole purpose of giving back, of course. I shot the last person who decided on that awful fate.

I don’t see anyone who stands out. Candy, a working girl, and Glinda’s arch nemesis, but she doesn’t know my story. Several survivors from the base catch my eye. They are gathered in a cluster at the bar, having a good ol’ time, but right in the middle of them stands Kale. Anger surges through me like a lit fuse. The bastard.

I stand up abruptly, and the chair I sat in to spills over, almost taking me with it. Reece grabs my arm to hold me up, but he’s almost as unsteady as I am. We are able to catch our balance. Reece is one of those people you can’t tell are drunk, except for his coordination.

“You’re drunk.” I poke at him, giggling.

Shrewdness narrows his eyes, “So are you.” Then in my drunken haze, I remember I’m angry.

“That asshole told everyone!” I whisper yell to Reece who has moved to stop me. Luckily, he’s slow and I’m quick like a ninja. I probably look like a belligerent fly. “Kale!” I catch Kale’s attention along with everyone else’s.

A dainty arm swoops through mine. “Suga, lets git yew to bed now.” Glinda. I don’t fight her.

I close in on him with Glinda in tow, but she stops me.

“Don’t be such a child, Suga. He ain’t worth yer trouble.” She’s right. I’m being juvenile. A sobering thought. Blinking my dry eyes, I take in everyone witnessing my behavior.

Glinda pulls me toward the courtyard door, but not before I see Rudy sitting with Bunyan, Ty, and Sam. We lock eyes as much as my sunglasses will let us. I don’t know what’s on my face, but he looks away. I scoff, kicking the door open.

*

Glinda takes me to her room. She lies me down and tugs at my hair. I smack her hand away. “No. I want them back.”

“Yew remember how long it took the first time, Suga? No way I’m goin’ let those rats back!”

“No. Please. Just let it go. I liked the dreads. Neat and pretty isn’t my thing.” The PGA numbs the thoughts of what neat and pretty entails.

She sighs, but quits trying to comb my hair. “No talkin’ ta yew like this. Reece told me yew in a bad way.”

A caustic laugh tumbles out of me. “Not as much as I am now. I need to kill some fuckin’ zombies.” She purses her lip and shoots me a dry look. “Banjo Bo doesn’t count,” I mumble.

“Whuteva yew say, Suga.” She pauses and the next comes out reluctantly. “Yew want ta talk ‘bout anything?”

I move from the bed to a bottle of PGA. She firmly puts it out of reach. “No needs ta drown yew sorrows. Especially with this nasty stuff. Yew could make yer bombs with this, yew could.”

“Look Glinda, I appreciate all you do for me. I need sleep. We’ll talk when I’m ready.”

“I know.” She gets up and moves towards the door, thinks twice, and takes the bottle with her. I groan my disapproval as she smiles her red glossy lips at me. She winks as she saunters out of the room, leaving a trail of her vanilla perfume.

The alcohol sinks me into the pillows as it courses through me, rushing through my veins and taking me to numbness, helping me fall asleep.

*

Upon waking, I wonder what I can do to keep Guido off my back. Plus get what I want in return. I have a few ideas and need to discuss them with Guido. A shower is also on my list of to-dos. I don’t want to attract attention, of any kind, including dog dick gnats.

I jump up, not caring about my rumpled state, and arm myself by strapping on my crossbow and pack.

Pulling up the hood and sliding my sunglasses into place, I stand at Guido’s door before I know it. He opens up and smiles pleasantly, like someone who is about to get what they want. In his dreams, I’m probably some sort of working gal.

Amusement lights up his features at my clothing. “Chickie, if yew want ta shower first, yer more than welcome.”

“Like you care about hygiene. Listen, I’m not going after Mac. I wouldn’t have a clue of where to start, but if the team gets any leads, I’ll help.”

He nods, looking thoughtful. “I’ll also get the survivors to the Coalition for you, without Mac.” I’m going to have more survivors to handle when all is said and done, but Guido doesn’t need to know that. The need to tread carefully overtakes me. I don’t want to take on more than I can handle. Rudy’s outlook about not knowing everything has the impact he wanted.

His eyebrows go up, liking my idea. “And hows yew goin’ do that?”

“Well, you said you knew where the cult was?” Now he looks skeptical. I shake my head. “You know what Mac does, keeps an eye on things for the US Coalition? They have someone on post there, too. I met him, and we’ve been good acquaintances. He might help. I need to know where.”

“This is good, good news Chicka. Maybe I don’t need Mac boy anymore. Waste of resource lookin’ fo ‘im.”

“Dalton isn’t like Mac. I’m not sure he’d do what Mac does for you. If you get someone to get a lead, then I’ll help find him.” I’ve hooked him, now I have to reel him. “I’ll also pick up slack on rounds and if I need to, I’ll go on loots to get what we need until we find him.”

His eyes narrow into slits. “Whut yew want?” He’s not stupid.

“My own place. Away from everyone. It can be outside of the community. In a barn, a box in the greenhouse, I don’t care.”

“Yew know we over capacitated, right?”

“Yes, do you know of a place or not?”

“Ahh, my own special Chickie, Chickie, Chicka.” He paces around, thinking. I tap my foot, stopping when I realize I’m fidgeting. “Yeah, I got somethin’. Not really safe. Wonky stairs, see? Don’t need anybody fuckin’ up the resources I have left.” He stops to look at me. “If I needs yew to make ‘rounds, maybe even bring a dead ‘em fo me, yew do it. No fight.”

“Fine, as long as I don’t deal with anyone else except you, and shower when I want to. Now, where is the cult?”

Guido lifts his shoulders. “I dunno. Rudy boy know, yeah? Yew tawk to ‘im. He might even go with yew.”

Damn. That’s what happens when you make a deal with the devil.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHT

The place turns out to be a spacious loft in the top of the family building. The best part—I don’t have to go inside the building. A fire escape outside leads to the top door, and it’s hidden between buildings on a side no one ever travels. A big, dirty window looks out over the unattractive greenhouse. The trees inside need pruning before they bust out of the top. I smile, remembering Linnie and Bruno.

I’ll have to furnish the loft myself. It’s chilly, but I don’t mind because there is a fireplace. Guido said an electrical line will be installed in a day or so. I’ll have electricity. The downside—I’ll have to use the working girls showers across the courtyard. There’s an old faucet sticking out of the wall with no sink, but when I turn it on, it doesn’t work.

After deciding to take the day for loot, Reece and Glinda come to help. Glinda is excited to be doing something out of the ordinary. On the way, I tell them how I acquired the loft. Reece is suspicious with my terms of lease.

“I don’t care to be risking my life to live here. I do it every day anyway, Reece. We all do.” It irks me people tend to forget this fact.

He snorts, “I’m sure there’s something Guido will come up with to make you uncomfortable. Speaking of that bastard, he’s got me looking for Mac.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing. His new predicament is probably my inadvertent doing.

Upon informing him about my plans to go to the cult, he doesn’t like it. “Too risky.”

“Living this life is risky. Besides, you might be able to pick Dalton’s brain about Mac. Find a lead.” Even though I don’t think Dalton will know anything of Mac’s whereabouts. If he does, he’ll keep it to himself.

We’re in a crummy furniture store in East Nashville. Reece has a freshly shaved head and a neatly braided goatee with new beads. Courtesy of Glinda, I’m sure. A thermal shirt under his biker vest keeps him warm. Glinda’s blond curls run loose over a fitted red sweater as her eyes dart between the two of us.

“Then I’ll go myself. Plus get him to help with whatever you need,” Reece’s eyes never waver from me after he speaks.

I sigh. “Getting Dalton’s help to take the survivors to Birmingham isn’t the only reason I want to go.”

Reece stops what he’s doing and narrows his eyes. “I fucking knew it! Why?”

“Why, Suga?” Glinda says at the same time, worry clouding her eyes.

Losing my patience right now will not help me, so I try to keep my cool. “Those women and children need help.”

“Isn’t that what Dalton is there for? How do you know they need help, Kan? You were there for how long? A few days? Drugged, at that.”

I blink at him, not knowing what to say, but going by myself is looking like the option I’ll have to take. Panic creeps in and my fingers tremble. I clench them in a fist.

Reece groans and rubs his bald head. “Fine,” he tells me through clenched teeth, surprising me. “But we’ll be thinking this through. Stake it out.”

I nod in total agreement. “Rudy is the only one who knows where it is.”

Glinda and Reece pause to look at me. “Reece, maybe you can talk to Rudy. See if he’ll tell you where the cult is located,” I say, going for nonchalance, but failing miserably. I lift a small end table into the van.

They both exchange glances, and Reece nods at her. I don’t know how they have a silent conversation. Well, yes, I do.

“Suga, yew know Rudy doll loves yew, right? Yew should ask ‘im.”

I look her straight in the eye. “Yeah, I know, but it—it’s complicated.”

Reece scoffs and throws mattresses around to get one that isn’t dusty. He’s not one to get into people’s business. I suspect so people will stay out of his, but this is clear disapproval. I ignore him. Glinda gapes at him. He finally finds a mattress that suits his liking.

“Somethin’ yew want to say, sweets?” Glinda asks him with her arms crossed. She clearly isn’t in the know.

Reece carries the mattress out to the van. We follow, with Glinda carrying two lamps, and I have a chair for a dinette table. He shoves the mattress onto the top. It’s a double. I’ll have to find sheets somewhere.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” He turns to me, “You need to talk to him. He needs you right now.” He puts a finger in my chest, poking me with each word. “And. You. Need. Him.”

I smack his hand away. “What the hell do you know?” I’ve had enough of talking about this. “I’ve already brought it up to him, and he shut it down!”

He narrows his eyes and practically screams at me. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. I’m tired of watching you drink yourself away. I wouldn’t give you the alcohol if I didn’t think you’d risk your life to get more. It makes me sick that you hide behind those sunglasses like some kind of victim. You kicked his ass, Kansas, you’re stronger than this.” Now he’s in my space, still poking me with his finger. His words are like a slap, and I want him out of my face.

I’m ready for a retort when something comes at me from the side, throwing me out of the way. The side of my face hits the pavement as Glinda screams. Pain spreads through my head as the sunglasses bounce across the concrete. I think Reece pushed me, but the angle is wrong. He grapples with a famished, and I leap into action, pulling a Bersa out. “Hold it away from you!” I yell at Reece.

The zombie pushes Reece at the same time Glinda stabs it in the temple with her small switchblade. It crumples to the ground. I’m shaking and drop the gun.

“God Reece, are you okay?” I ask, but my eyes are on Glinda watching the zombie. She’s shaking her hands in girlie disgust. Her eyes slowly gaze up at me. Reece looks at me, too.

She flinches and scratches her head with wide eyes. “Suga, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that dead ‘em just knocked yew away from Reece.”

I swallow. “Maybe it saw Reece first and focused on its target.”

Reece nods. “Yeah, but it started to pull back when you yelled, Kan.” He locks eyes with me.

“Well, that fuckin’ shit ain’t possible.” Glinda chimes in, her gutter accent returning tenfold. She can be a little slow to the race sometimes.

*

We loot until dark and have killed about twenty famished by the time the van is full, with furniture on top and stuff in the back. After indulging Glinda in a trip to a beauty supply store, I’m dead tired when we pull the van into the parking lot. At least there is a fence now, so we won’t have to worry about any more famished incidents. No one says anything else about the zombie while we unload. Glinda makes herself at home, cleaning and rearranging. Reece builds a fire in the fireplace. We put the bed as close to it as possible so I can keep warm while sleeping. I scoot the end table with a lamp beside it, and the dinette and four chairs we place in the middle of the space.

“We can get a small sofa or recliner if you want, Kan. Put it on the other side of the fire.” We stretch out a rug to cover the high traffic area of the creaky, hardwood flooring. Glinda and I get busy putting the sheets we looted on the bed.

“There’s enough space for a Christmas tree!” Glinda exclaims.

Reece shakes his head. “Christmas was a few weeks ago.”

I balk at this news. “Was it really?”

“I believe so.”

“We should do Christmas anyhow. I’ll make plans,” Glinda decides. I look away from her.