Defensive Instinct (Survival Instinct Book 4) (5 page)

“It’s not like you’re doing much work anyway; I’ve been doing all the heavy lifting.” This caused Lauren to punch Winchester’s arm. “Ow! Hey! Uncalled for.”

“Totally called for,” both Lauren and Abby told him at the same time, then laughed together.

With a fake grumpy expression, Winchester herded them both back to the field. It didn’t matter what was going on with the boy; he was with the doctors now and a field still needed clearing.

The crack of the rifle startled Danny even though he had been listening for it. Although guns were generally carried around at all times, they were usually used only in emergencies. Danny paused in his cleanup of their camp until he heard Jon’s footsteps coming down the stairwell from the roof.

“What’d you shoot?” Danny asked as he finished tying up his bedroll.

“A lone zombie that was heading for the fake campsite,” Jon told him, as he untied their bundle of rifles in order to add the new one. The familiar handle of his katana stuck up over his shoulder.

“So it works then? We’ve gotten really lucky with the guns this journey,” Bryce commented as he oiled the wheels on their trolley.

“I wish we were finding more ammo,” Larson commented from where he was holding a water bucket for their one horse named Thumper. “There are some people who need shooting lessons.”

“You’re thinking of Becky,” Danny said, nodding. “Hope should probably start taking some, too. They’ve already completed all the gun safety courses.”

“Hasn’t your sister been using a slingshot?” Jon asked as he rolled the rifles up in the tarp.

“Basically all the younger ones are.” Bryce finished with the wheels and hauled his bag up onto his back. His squat form looked even squatter once it was on. “Hey Larson, can you believe that Becky is older now than we were at the beginning?”

“It boggles the mind,” Larson agreed.

Danny watched as both Larson and Bryce performed checks through the windows of the shop they were in, making sure the way out was clear. At twenty years of age, Bryce and Larson were both considerably older than Danny had been on the Day. The two of them had lived with zombies more than they had lived without them. Danny still had about three years to go before that happened. He often wondered what life was like for his niece, never knowing anything before the zombie virus was let loose. Everything she knew about normal life was from books and stories. Then again,
this
would be normal to her.

“My turn on Thumper?” Jon asked this only for clarification as he walked over to the horse, picking up his tack and saddle.

Danny confirmed it for him, then scanned the area where they had camped, making sure nothing had been overlooked.

“What do you all say to checking one more quadrant north, and then heading back home?” Once Jon got Thumper harnessed, he led the dun-coloured steed to the entrance. Thumper followed along amicably enough, probably hoping that breakfast would come soon in the form of roadside grass. Or maybe middle-of-the-road grass, as over the years more and more forced its way through the cracks.

“I don’t know. If we find a big haul, I don’t think we’ll have enough space in the carts. They’re pretty full as it is right now.” Bryce held the door open for everyone. While Jon led the horse, Larson pushed the flat bed trolley, and Danny took care of a shopping cart. Bryce then ducked through the door and grabbed the last shopping cart while Danny took over the door-holding duties.

“That’s true.” Jon swung up onto Thumper, standing in the stirrups to get a heightened view of the area. “But I’d like to have the shopping carts one-hundred percent filled before we head back to the stash. How about just one block instead of a whole quadrant?”

“Sounds good to me,” Larson told him as the other two nodded.

“Oh yeah, Danny, that zombie I took down looked pretty fresh. I think we should frisk him. Might have something useful.”

“All right, where is it?”

“Right there.” Jon pointed across the street to a pair of boots poking out from behind a car. Just from that, Danny knew it would be good to frisk him. They were good boots.

“’Kay, wait here.” Danny released his hold on the shopping cart and jogged over to the body, his heavy bag settling into its familiar position on his shoulders. Larson followed him halfway, acting as backup. Danny would have preferred Jon, since he was the best shot, but he took whatever he got.

The dead zombie was very much a fresh one. Red blood puddled around its head, not yet muddled into the thick, putrid black of the long turned. Although banged up, especially its leg, it wasn’t in bad condition, all things considered. Danny worried about where the man had come from, and what had turned him. Bumping into either the living or the dead was undesirable.

Undoing the laces, Danny stripped off the dead zombie’s boots, the rubber of his tightly fitting work gloves protecting him from the risk of infection. He worked his way up the body, checking for leg holsters, and then rooting through the pockets. There wasn’t much, just some empty wrappers and a photo of people Danny would never know. He left the junk behind, but took the belt, which also had on it an empty water container and equally empty knife sheath, both of which could come in handy. Patting down the torso and arms failed to reveal any other hidden treasures. Whoever this guy was, he had died with nothing left. Bundling up the belt and boots, Danny turned and headed back.

“Not much there,” he commented as he placed the items in the emptier of the two shopping carts. “He was really fresh though. We better keep an especially sharp eye out; there’s no way to tell if he was alone.” The others understood he meant both breathers and shufflers.

“We’ll stick to hand gestures from here on out,” Jon commanded, turning Thumper to head north. Because he was the oldest and most experienced of their band of scavengers, he was often deferred to as the lead.

The horse’s clopping hooves led the way, keeping a safe distance ahead of the three pushing the carts. With their modified wheels that were frequently oiled and greased, the carts were virtually silent as they rolled forward: only an item or two inside would rattle on occasion. If someone or something showed up, they’d locate the horse first, giving the others time to get away. It was the balancing nature of riding: danger versus having to walk.

Danny brought up the rear of the cart pusher’s triangle, often checking behind himself for anything coming up on their tail. He much preferred it when they didn’t have to move silently, when they felt safe enough for whispered conversations. Although the group of young men often talked about asinine things, such as girls they knew or comic books they had read long ago, it alleviated the tension. Without it, Danny was left alone with his thoughts.

As usual, Danny’s mind first drifted back to the Day. He had been fourteen years old and living with a foster family, because his older brother, Mathias, wasn’t allowed to live outside the secret Marble Keystone facility, from where the zombie virus had come. Danny knew his brother hadn’t been involved in that—he was just a security grunt—but it meant they weren’t together when everything went bad. From there, Danny’s thoughts drifted to his long-dead family, all of them but Mathias killed before he had reached double digits in age. Then Mathias had died, eaten by a shark when the Diana went down. Alec, the man who had saved Danny, who had taken care of him after the zombies showed up, had been killed by a bomb just a day or two before Mathias’s death. So many people Danny loved ended up dead.

He forced his thoughts elsewhere, dragging them away from the dark hole in his mind, to focus on what was still around him. Jon, for instance. They had lived in the same foster home and had basically been brothers for a while. They were even more like brothers now and shared a container-home when they weren’t out scavenging. The fact that they had wound up in the same place was amazing. More than amazing, really. Danny’s family had grown before Mathias was killed. He now had a sister-in-law, Riley, and a niece, Hope. There was also Riley’s twin, Cameron, who had adopted Dakota, and he had become so close to various people that they were essentially family as well: people like Bryce and Larson, who had started life as cousins but became brothers when the same couple adopted them after the Day. Things kept on changing, but not all the changes were bad.

Up ahead, the clopping of Thumper’s hooves stopped. Jon had reached the next block of their search and was now surveying the area while standing up in the stirrups. After a moment, he turned and gestured to the trio behind him, pointing to where they would check first. His arm movements seemed pretty enthusiastic.

By the time the cart pushers reached the spot where Jon had gestured from, they found him already dismounted outside a store and waiting for them. Looking across the small parking lot at the store’s name, Danny grinned and understood why Jon looked fairly excited. It was a small place that sold paint and painting supplies, easily overlooked by less-thorough scavengers but capable of holding a surprisingly good haul.

Taking out a notebook, Bryce peered through the dark windows between the advertisements and hastily sketched as much of the layout as he could see. Based on that, Jon put together a quick plan, using jotted notes and several hand signals, to which everyone agreed.

Turning to the door, Danny pulled on the handle only to find it locked. That was something he loved about being in Texas. Down here, they had had enough of a warning to pack up and bug out, but still hadn’t known enough about what was going on to bring the right stuff. Occasionally, the scavenger team would come across areas that had been turned upside down or completely picked clean, but there were also a lot of locked doors elsewhere. From his back pocket, Danny withdrew his lock picks and set to work. It would have been easier just to smash in the glass door, which is what they would have done in an emergency, but the shattering glass could draw unwanted attention. It was always advisable to take the quiet approach whenever possible.

Danny focused on his work, closing his eyes while feeling for the movement of the tumblers. Locks like these weren’t particularly difficult to pick when you knew what you were doing and had practice, but they could still be stubborn and take time. With the other three at his back, Danny was unconcerned about anything sneaking up behind him.

The tumblers finally slid into place, allowing Danny to turn the lock as though he had a key in it instead of thin strips of metal. Pulling open the door, he squeezed inside. There was a gate there, not far from the door. The cross work of metal bars travelled from one end of the store to the other, protecting the windows as well as the door. Still holding it open, Danny reached back through the door and tapped Jon’s shoulder. Jon and Bryce both turned and slipped through, moving to the left and right, squeezing up against the bars. Larson remained outside with the horse and carts. Using his fingers as a countdown, Danny co-ordinated those inside to turn on their flashlights simultaneously. The lights were strapped to their wrists, and pistols were closely held to the beams as they tracked their way around the store. Dust covered everything, pleasing Danny. The dust indicated that it had been a long time since anyone had been in there. Danny pulled up his cloth mask to cover his mouth and nose, not wanting the dust that his movements had kicked up to cause a sneezing fit.

Looking over at Jon, he saw the more experienced man nod. Danny nodded back, then did the same with Bryce. Removing one hand from his pistol, the one with the light strapped to it, he grabbed the security gate and shook it as hard as he could, releasing a shower of dust from the bars. In the still, stale air, the rattling echoed across the displays in front, travelling past the cashier’s desk and down the dark aisles beyond it. The three scavengers held still, flashlights trying to pick up every dark corner, searching for the slightest hint of movement. There was nothing.

Holstering his pistol, Danny brought out his lock picks again and set to work on the security gate. When it finally opened, Jon pushed one side in one direction while Danny pushed the other in the opposite. As soon as there was room, Jon stepped through the gates and Danny signalled the others. This place was likely to be a treasure-trove where they would spend a bit of time, so Larson and Bryce were going to bring the carts and Thumper inside for safety.

Having already planned ahead, Danny fanned right while Jon went left. They kept pace with one another, scanning behind and between all the displays before moving forward. Neither of them were focused on the items that adorned the shelves, their goal being to make the place safe first. The shelves were lined with large paint cans in a variety of types and colours, their metal sides weakly bouncing back the light. Finally reaching the back of the store, Jon and Danny came across no threats, just a bathroom door, an office door, and a paint-mixing machine. The bathroom was checked first. Danny pointed to the pile of plastic-wrapped toilet paper before he backed out. Toilet paper was a constantly shrinking commodity that everyone loved to have; the stack alone was a great find. Jon approached the office and tried the handle but it was locked. This one they couldn’t pick as it was a number pad.

“No back door,” Danny commented as soon as both he and Jon assumed relaxed positions.

“I’m guessing it’s through the office.”

“If something is in there, it can get out here pretty easily.”

“I’ll watch the door while you guys pack up,” Jon volunteered.

Danny nodded and returned to the front of the store.

“Shop’s clear,” he told Bryce and Larson who were in watch positions. “Possible incursion point at the back that Jon’s keeping an eye on. Nothing much to take back there except toilet paper and, if we have room, maybe a few cans of weatherproof paint.” They used paint as a sealant on occasion, especially around the holes they made to put bottle lights in the shipping containers. Some people also liked to paint their doors to distinguish them from their neighbours making it easier to find their way around. Danny kept waiting for the day they gave the aisles between containers names, like streets.