Deadlocked 5 (16 page)

"First what? First person to be immune?"

He nodded. "Yep. There's a girl around here that says she's immune too. She's a tough kid. Runs with the High Rollers."

"Who are the High Rollers?" I asked.

"A group of scavengers from nearby. They roll through the towns out in these parts and wipe out whatever Greys they come in contact with. That's one of the reasons the towns out here were able to survive for so long."

"Sound like good people to have around."

"They're not bad, but they can be hard to pin down, and ain't never been there when I needed them. They're always driving here and there, shooting up shit and leaving bodies around behind them. God only knows what they'd do if the zombies all fell over dead." He laughed at the thought. "They wouldn't know what to do with themselves."

"I haven't met a lot of people that were immune."

"Me neither. Annie's a special case, and so are you I guess."

The immune girl's name caught my interest. "Her name's Annie?"

He nodded.

"Is she about twenty three or twenty four, with red hair?"

He nodded again and looked at me in surprise. "Do you know her?"

"I think I might. I met a girl named Annie back when the outbreak first started. They were doing tests on us, which is probably why we're both immune." I shook my head in disbelief. "What are the chances that we'd both end up out here in the mountains?"

Harrison shrugged and seemed unimpressed. "God works in mysterious ways." He stared ahead at the road while I grimaced at him, then he turned and smiled as if he'd been joking.

"Do you think we could find her?
” I asked. “I'd like to see if she's the same girl.”

"Like I said, they travel all over the place. They try to protect the area, but that makes it hard to track them down."

"How much area do they cover?"

"I don't know exactly. Up and down the Rockies, through Colorado and Wyoming."

"I wonder if they know about Juniper yet."

Harrison shrugged, then leaned forward and squinted. "Help me look for a noose on a tree in the field out here somewhere. It's the marker for the town. I haven’t been here in a long time so I don't remember exactly where the entrance is. It's in the basement under a small airport out here somewhere. You get in it through the hanger, which is why they put up nooses on trees out here to lead you to it."

"So what did you do to piss them off?"

He coyly glanced at me and repeated what I'd said to him a few minutes earlier, "It's a story that's not worth telling."

"Fine. Keep your secrets, old man."

He pointed to the right of our car as we drove along the field. "There, is that a noose on that tree?"

I looked out at where he was pointing and then back at him in surprise. "That's not even a tree. That's a busted telephone pole."

He squinted harder and then shrugged. "Okay then, keep looking for a noose."

"Can you see?"

"Yes I can fucking see," said Harrison.

I glanced out at the broken telephone pole that looked nothing like a tree, and then back at the old man as he squinted. "No you can't."

"I can see just fine."

"That pole doesn't look anything like a tree."

"It was far away. How am I supposed to see something that far away? I'm an old man, you fucking twit."

"That's what I mean. You can't see that well."

He grumbled and waved his hand to shush me. "I can see al
l right."

"Why don't you pull over and let me drive?"

He laughed at the suggestion. "Why? Worried we'll get in a header with all that oncoming traffic? Settle down, kid." He pointed out the front window to the right and said, "There, look, I can see the tree out there. That's it, with the noose on it. Right? Look."

I sighed and looked at what he thought was the marker tree. He was right; it was a tall, dead tree with a noose tied to its lowest branch. "You're right. It's a tree with a noose on it."

"See," he said triumphantly.

"But you forgot to mention there's a body hanging from the noose."

He stopped smiling, then leaned forward and squinted to see if I was telling the truth. The corpse was too far away to see any details, but the shape swinging in the wind was certainly human. There were no birds circling, which meant it was a zombie. Birds, as well as other scavengers, won't bother an infected corpse. They'll come near to inspect it, but will swiftly turn away, choosing to starve rather than feast on the diseased flesh.

"Fuck," said Harrison. "That can't be good."

"I'll take it for granted they don't normally do that."

"No. I've never seen them hang someone out here before." He sighed heavily and shook his head. "Maybe we should keep on going to Vineyard."

"No. We should go check it out. If something happened here too, then there's a good chance the trader's food was poisoned."

"And then what?" asked Harrison.

I looked at him as if the answer should be obvious, but then I had a hard time answering. "Then we go and fight back, I guess."

Harrison chuckled until he saw I was serious. "Who? You, me, and the pup back there?" He pointed at Stubs, who had curled up between the packs in the back seat and was snoring. "Th
e traders travel in groups, kid; groups that are too big for us to take out."

"You don't have to come with me. Just point me in the right direction and I'll get the job done by myself."

He rolled his eyes as he slowed the car down to take a right onto a lonely, small road in the middle of the vast plain. "Benny the ballistic missile. Maybe that's what I'll call you. Just point you in the right direction, light the fuse, and get the fuck out of the way. Right?"

"Something like that." I jerked my thumb over my shoulder, toward the back of the car. "The Devil left me the tools, all I've got to do is get to work."

Harrison was frustrated with me, which was evident by the way he grumbled and frowned. "You're going to get yourself killed, that's what you're going to do. What do I care? Go ahead and get yourself blown to bits. I barely even know you, Fucknuts." His words came out in a garble and I realized that he was talking to himself. I settled back and stared out the window as we got closer to the airport.

It was a tiny municipal airport that had long ago fallen apart. The buildings were nearly all collapsed and despite the arid climate, plants had managed to break apart the runway, splitting it into hundreds of jagged pieces separated by strips of green overgrowth. A withered tree stood in front of the airport's sign, and a body hung from a noose tied to its lowest branch.

"This looks bad, kid. Looks real bad. We should tuck tail and run."

"Let's just get in there and see if the place is infected." I hadn't smelled the scent of decay yet, but I still sensed death. The eerily quiet airport, the coming dusk, and the swinging corpses set me on edge as we parked beside a large, crumbling hanger. "Leave the car running."

"Before we get out, I'm just going to throw this out there for debate. If you wanted to make sure that no one came by to visit you, what would be better to hang outside than a mother fucking body?" He screamed at me and slammed his hands on the steering wheel when he cursed. He glanced around in embarrassment, as if his raised tone and cursing was an accident, and then clenched his jaw as he seethed, "Let's get the fucking fuck out of here."

"You're an angry guy, you know that?"

He took a laughably long breath, flaring his nostrils as he did, and then exhaled as if pushing out every last breath he had before he spoke. "I'm working on it."

"How come you were so eager to go into Juniper, but you don't want to go in here?"

He leaned over into the back seat to grab his shotgun. "Because I liked the people in Juniper. The people here were assholes."

I laughed, although Harrison didn't understand what I found funny. "I thought preachers were supposed to love everyone. Isn't that part of the job?"

"Kid, what the fuck ever gave you the idea I was good at my job? Now get one of those big guns in the trunk and let's get this over with." He pulled the knob beside the steering wheel that popped the trunk and then got out of the car.

I was about to tell Stubs to wait for me, but the pup was still snoring in the back seat. His lips flapped when he exhaled, causing a distinctive noise that made me smile. I got out as quietly as I could, although I think a tornado could've descended on us without disturbing him.

The FN F2000 assault rifles in the trunk were in startlingly good shape. I had only seen one of them in my life before this. A guard that was traveling with one of my targets had been carrying one, and I stole it after killing them both. It wasn't an American weapon, but I couldn't remember where it originated, although I thought it was Belgian. It was a military rifle, and was designed so that the spent casings would fall out away from the user and not into their face, a feature that was shockingly absent on too many of the weapons that I'd encountered over the years. The only drawback to the gun was its weight. It wasn't dramatically heavier than other assault rifles, but every added pound to my gear was a pound I'd rather leave behind.

I took two of the rifles out and rigorously inspected them. They had 30 round mags in them already, and there were several more filled mags in the trunk as well. I grabbed extra ammunition and stuffed them into my pockets before handing one of the rifles over to Harrison. I was surprised when the old man refused it.

"Take one," I said as I held it out to him.

He shook his head and pat the side of his shotgun. "I'll stick with what I've got."

"Are you kidding me? This is a military grade assault rifle."

"And this is an apocalypse grade ass kicker." He kissed the barrel of his gun. "Never did me wrong."

I shook my head and set the extra rifle back in the trunk. It wasn't worth arguing with the old man, and considering he was half blind, perhaps a shotgun was the better option for him. I closed the trunk and slung my rifle's strap over my shoulder. "All right, let's get moving."

"There's usually a guard up there." Harrison pointed at the top of a nearby building. There was a raised section that poked out of the roof and was lined with windows. It would make a good guard post since it provided a view of every direction. I held my hand over my eyes as I tried to peer into the windows, but the glare from the sun was too bright to see anything inside.

The sun had begun to set behind the mountains, and the air had taken on a slight chill as dusk approached. "We’d better get moving before the sun sets. I don't want to be caught out here in the dark."

"That reminds me." Harrison opened the back door of the car and started rummaging through his gear. Stubs woke up and snorted at us before yawning and stretching his front legs out. "Here we go," said Harrison as he produced two large, black flashlights. He tried to hand one to me, but I refused and then flicked the switch under the barrel of my rifle to turn on
its modular light.

I gave Harrison an obnoxious smile and said, "Mine's apocalypse grade too."

"I should've shot you in the weeds and left you for the dogs, you smart ass." He put the flashlight back in the car and then rubbed my dog on the head. "How do you put up with this shithead, Stubby?"

"His name's Stubs."

"I know what his damn name is. I'll call him what I want," said Harrison as he closed the car door and walked toward the hanger. He grumbled and I could only catch a few of the curses as he spoke, "…fucking tell me what his name is. Make me go into a fucking death trap, just for shits and giggles. No good damn reason for this. No damn reason at all."

"Are you finished?" I asked as we reached the door of the hanger.

"I'll be done when I'm damn well good and ready."

I held the door to the building shut as I looked at him. "We should probably try and be quiet in here. Okay?"

He glared at me and then nodded. "Fine, fine, I'll shut up." Then, as I started to open the door, he murmured, "You cunt."

The hanger looked like it was falling apart from the outside, but it was just a ruse. The people staying here had built a secondary roof, much lower than the hanger's curved ceiling. The outer shell was left shattered to keep unwanted visitors from recognizing that this was an entrance to a populated town. Once I stepped inside, I saw that they had designed the entrance as a trap for any Greys that might invade the building. Again, just like in Juniper, there was an army of mannequins waiting for us inside. Bells were tied to their clothes and they were all standing upright, which was a good sign.

The hanger was just one large room, and the only doors that I saw seemed to lead back outside. Water was leaking in from somewhere and had pooled in the corner furthest from us. The smell of mold pervaded the area. "Where's the entrance?"

Harrison walked away from me, past the mannequins and towards the pooling water. "This way."

Windows provided a dim light, but Harrison turned on his flashlight to see easier. His boots clopped through the puddle as he headed for the wall. Then he handed me the flashlight before opening a panel on the wall that revealed a small alcove. I glanced up and down the building in surprise. I hadn't realized this wall was false.