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Authors: Lia Habel

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BOOK: Dearly, Beloved
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Turning around, I sized up the chase situation. I figured I had about five armored black trucks on my rear. Maybe ten. Hard to tell in the dark, but it was plenty.

Ahead of me the carriages slowed and parted, sinking onto their respective shoulders, making room for me. I tapped the accelerator and wedged myself right between them.

“Has Dearly been in touch with you?” Samedi shouted as his window lowered.

“No. I have no idea what we’re driving into.”

“What’s the plan?” the driver of the other carriage called out. It was Ben. Behind him I could see Edgar driving the third,
Franco the fourth. Scanning the carriages, I figured altogether we had about fifteen people.
Cripes
.

“Well, I brought a distraction,” I said, pointing back. “These guys are probably itching for a fight by this point, so try not to engage them. Concentrate on finding and subduing Hagens. I’ll lead the forces back there through the crowd, try to sow some confusion. Ideally, we want the Changed to surrender, talk to us. We want them wrapped up with a bow when the feds come.”

“Don’t worry about us,” Edgar called out. “We’d die for the zombie cause still, you know that!”

I did, and I didn’t want it to happen. Still, I nodded, respect almost overwhelming me. “On second thought,” I shouted, turning back to Sam’s carriage. “Chas, I need you in here! Think you can jump for it, or do we have to stop?”

The girl didn’t hesitate. The back door of Michael’s carriage opened, and Chas pushed it into the wind with her legs, Tom bracing her from behind. I reached back and unlatched the rear door, before sending an arm through my open window and catching the edge of it, pulling it forward. Sam and I steadied our respective speeds, and Chas gripped the top of Michael’s carriage. It was higher than the car, and she was able to swing herself into the Rolls with a bit of effort. “Ten points for the New Victorian Olympic teaaam!” she shouted, lifting her arms.

“I’ll flank east!” Ben shouted.

“That means I call west!” Sam said. As he spoke, Tom passed Chas her rifle, blew her a kiss, and got the back door of Michael’s carriage shut. “See you on the other side!”

Speeding up between them, I waited until I saw the first carriage turn off behind me before picking a spot to do the same, plowing over the shoulder, a set of train tracks, and right into the heart of the camp—which appeared to already be in a shambles.

It wasn’t until I slowed down a bit that I saw just how much.

The Changed had set up camp in a lightly wooded area just off the side of the road. Tents had once stood there, but most of them had collapsed or caught fire, turning into smoking pools of embers. The stage was set up, and also on fire, the flames rising high into the night sky. Zombies everywhere were running aimlessly, shrieking, obviously terrified for their unlives. Many were piled into and on top of carriages, headed for the road.

“Whoa,” Chas said. “You might not have needed Allister’s goons after all.”

Frightened, I drove on. As the crowd flowed around me, I saw what its members were running from.

Ahead of me stood a wide, muscular zombie—not a wall, not even as tall as me, but a sturdy brick of dead flesh. A born bruiser, a raging zombie pit bull roaring and rushing at anything that caught his attention, galloping back and forth across the open space seemingly at random. “Jesus,” I breathed.

Then I noticed an old brown carriage circling him. Coalhouse’s. The left rear door was missing, and Laura was leaning out of it with a long bit of wood, thrusting it at any zombies who dared to try and take the big guy on. As the carriage turned to cross in front of him, I saw that Nora was driving. She
was
here. I suddenly felt physically heavy with relief, so heavy I found myself marveling at the scene rather than leaping into immediate action.

Marveling, because what they were doing could only be described as “carriage jousting.”

I decided to just go with it.

Before I could do anything else, one of the Changed carriages cut me off, forcing me to brake. At first I thought they’d come for me, but they swiftly rocked away, turning sharply a few yards out and zeroing in on the big zombie and Nora’s carriage. The windows of the Changed carriage lowered and two dead men leaned out, guns at the ready.

Relief morphed back into rage. I accelerated, aiming the car for the tree line and hitting the button beneath the dash.

Two more projectiles rocketed out of the railguns. They hit a couple of the trees I was facing right in the middle, cutting them off like a lawn mower would blades of grass. The upper portions came crashing down atop and in front of the carriage in pursuit of Nora, forcing it to a halt, collapsing the roof and exploding the windows outward. Dr. Samedi was officially my patron saint.

Chas was likewise dazzled. “Okay, I know what I want for
my
birthdaaay.”

One carriage was taken care of, but now I could see more lights swarming, descending. Allister’s men. The AG trucks roared onto the field and swerved to cut off the absconding vehicles, a few connecting, external speakers ordering the zombies to hit the deck and lie with their hands behind their heads. None of them obeyed. The AG drones started to launch smoke bombs and flash-bang grenades, only adding to the confusion.

As if sensing that this would be their last chance, members of the Changed started to regroup and converge on the monster, AG forces in pursuit. I had to move. Throwing myself back into the fray, I moved to circle Coalhouse’s carriage, to cut it off or slow it down. It worked, in a rather abrupt fashion. Nora saw me and stood on the brake a mere foot from my car, her eyes widening. I did the same. She opened her door and rushed out, and I ran out to meet her, pulling her off the ground and into my arms.

“You came!” she said, raining kisses over my ear.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” I pushed her back, looking her over. “What’s with the bandages? Where’s Coalhouse?”

“We can’t find him! But Patient One …” She looked off, and I turned to follow her line of sight. The rampaging chewing-tobacco-colored zombie had caught another of his kind, and was using her body to beat another dead man into submission, like an angry child smashing toys together.

“That’s
Patient One
?” I said with disbelief.

“He swelled up,” she said, working her hands as if to demonstrate this. “I swear. He got mad, and he just got … big! You should see what he did to the door!”

Laura ran out to join us, casting her stick aside. “I think he’s still half alive.” When even Nora looked appalled at this, she explained, “I saw his heart beating as it got bigger.”

“Salvez said his vitals looked … oh my God. Could he still be alive in there?” I asked the question, but I was pretty sure I didn’t want to know.

“We were trying to separate him from the rest, but he won’t listen to us now,” Nora said. “We lost track of Hagens, but some of them still want him back.”

Thinking fast, I pulled Nora up to me again and kissed her hot, gorgeous little mouth before setting her down on the ground. “You guys get out of here. Try to meet up with Samedi. I’ll take care of this and get the Allister people out of here.”

“Allister? Those guys in the trucks are Allister’s people? How …”

Looking to the Rolls, I said, “I have bait.”

Nora glanced inside the car, and actually grinned slightly upon seeing the unconscious Michael. “Okay.” Sobering, she said, “He doesn’t want to do this. I swear. He tried to protect us. And Coalhouse didn’t mean to start this.”

“I believe you.”

Nora looked into my eyes for a second longer, before taking Laura by the hand and pulling her back to Coalhouse’s carriage. I made sure they got off safely before sliding into my car and tearing Michael’s cravat off.

Now it was my turn to play. But instead of carriage jousting, my game was more like “car bullfighting.”

“Hey!” I yelled, laying on the horn as I drove toward Patient One. He turned to look at me, his face terrible in its rage. “Hey,
you smell blood, buddy?” I waved the cravat out of the window, hoping he’d pick up on the scent. He seemed to, bobbing in my direction. “Yeah, c’mon! Fresh meat!”

Directing my car farther off, I drove at a slower pace. Patient One ran after me, even resorting to running on all fours at one point, like an incensed gorilla. The AG guards almost cornered us a few times, showering nonlethal smoke and light grenades in our direction, but thankfully no bullets. Relatively unscathed, together we burst through a clump of undergrowth and out onto what I figured was another field, but soon realized was probably some well-heeled royal lord’s enormous backyard.

Spinning to a stop, I grabbed one of the rifles sitting in the back. “Drive,” I told Chas. “Go back, get the attention of the AGs, and get them out of here. Convince them Michael’s being taken somewhere else!”

“Right!” she said, moving to climb into the front with her gun.

Leaping out of the car with the cravat, I tried to lead Patient One farther away from the campsite. The Rolls veered off, Chas taking control. “P One … Smoke … it’s me. Bram. We met before, remember? We need to talk.”

Growling low, pulling himself up to his full height, the bestial zombie stomped toward me. He’d lost his mask somewhere. “Flesh,” he rumbled. “Hungry.”

“No. We don’t do that,” I told him, showing him the cravat. I let it flutter from my hand and he jumped forward, capturing it and burying his nose in it. When he found it wasn’t flesh, he snarled. “We don’t bite the living. That causes fights.”

The zombie paused. “Don’t like fights.”

At least he was more talkative in this form. “I don’t either. I like the living. Got a girl who’s living—in fact, I heard you stood up for her.” He turned his eyes on me. “Nora? Thank you. Thank you for protecting Nora.”

“Book girl.” I didn’t understand this, but he spoke the words with a sort of … peace. I figured that was progress. “Like book girl.”

“I like her, too. She likes me. So we have that in common, right?”

Smoke took a step nearer, examining me. In the dim light, I could see Laura’d spoken true—his heart was beating madly behind his bare ribs, his lungs fluttering. For a moment I forgot myself and stared at the spectacle, both disgusted and filled with pity.

As I watched, Smoke lifted his head and inhaled deeply, scenting something. Then he took off, resorting to all fours as he rounded my side, running into the night. I cursed, turning around to see where he was headed. I had to chase him. Obviously he could be talked down, if I just had more time.

Something clicked behind me. “Don’t move, maggot.”

Closing my eyes, I muttered, “Allister.”

“Turn around. Slowly.” I did so. Michael stood before me, Chas’s rifle in his hands. He was even more beaten up than I’d left him—he must have come to and jumped out of the freaking car. Chas must still be driving, AG guards on her tail. He aimed it at my head, narrowing his eyes. “Drop your weapon.”

“No way.” I aimed my rifle at his chest instead. “Look, we can’t do this now. That was Patient One. We can’t let him get away!”

“I don’t care. If the plague starts again, my father will handle it. Nobody needs Dearly.” He released the safety and steadied his finger on the trigger. “You’re going to pay for what you’ve done to me tonight. Assault. Kidnapping. Extortion. Should I go on?”

“I figured I would,” I admitted. “They might throw me in jail for everything, deport me, execute me. But Nora’s safe, so you know what? I don’t care. I’ll take whatever comes my way like a man. I’m already dead. You can’t do worse to me, you little thug!”

Before I could say another word, Michael screamed and pulled the trigger. I felt myself hit the ground, and figured he must have shot true. Above me, the world went black.

And yet, I could still hear Michael screaming.

I tried to sit up and found I couldn’t. There was something in the way. Then the pressure was relieved, the world took shape, and Smoke let me up in order to pin Michael down, bellowing like some sort of prehistoric beast.

Quickly, I sat up and launched myself at them. “No! Let him go!”

“Allister’s runt!”
Smoke howled.
“You will burn!”

“Get him off! Get him off!” Michael thrashed, attempting to keep the zombie’s mouth away from him. P One was biting at him furiously, catching clothes, hair, everything except the meat he so desperately wanted.

Reaching out, I found Michael’s rifle. Turning it around, I let off a shot into Smoke’s knee, the one I knew was artificial. He yelped with surprise and rolled to the side, and I jumped on top of him, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “No! He likes book girl, too! He likes book girl!” I hated to say it, but I figured it was Allister’s only shot.

Smoke went still, breathing harshly. “Does?”

“Yes!” I looked back toward the trees and saw that the fight was still going on. There were no AG forces to be seen, and it looked like my men were gaining control, a few of them standing sentinel over groups of Changed with their hands on their heads. “He brought men here to find her. Look!”

Smoke followed my gaze, and seemed to contemplate what I said. As he did, his form began to shrink. It was as if his muscles were bladders full of air or water that was now being let out, leaving his flesh sagging, broken. He slumped down on the velvety grass, his eyes rolling around.

“It’s okay,” I told him. “Let me take you back to book girl, okay? To the doctors? Remember Dr. Dearly? Dr. Salvez?”

Smoke said nothing. After a few minutes I stood and helped him to his feet. He was now as weak as a kitten, almost rubbery, barely able to control his own movements. The transformation, if that’s what you could call it, had taken everything out of him, shattered what remained of his body.

Michael stood off to the side, weak on his feet, his face like a canvas splashed with red paint. I could have said a lot of things right then. I could have reminded him just how many times I’d saved his sorry life. I could’ve asked him how it felt to be hunted.

Instead I walked over and punched him one last time, knocking him unconscious again. I told myself it was for his own good.

BOOK: Dearly, Beloved
5.13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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