Defensive Instinct (Survival Instinct Book 4) (54 page)

“And they did,” Tommy added, speaking more confidently than previously. “We haven’t yet been able to go looking for any parts of his corpse, but considering no one has seen an armoured zombie, we’re fairly confident that Dean was taken out in the opening salvo.”

“I’d also like to point out that Nessie gave us a lot of her good fabrics, leathers, and blankets so that we could muffle the logs we used for rolling the containers,” Harry also spoke up. “And I’d heard that she took that bullet while protecting the youngest around her.”

“I heard the same,” Angela added. “The kids she pushed over seem to believe she saved their lives.”

“I’d like to put forth a resolution,” Boyle said again. “The materials she gave up to Harry and his crew will not be returned to her. If they’re still good, they will be evenly distributed to anyone who wants them. Objections?”

Everyone shook their heads.

“Vote.”

All five raised their hands again. Boyle had clearly thought about both of these trials beforehand and planned their outcomes.

“Now, our last trial. Claire, please go get Gerald. If he’s still being difficult, get the guards to help you.”

Claire nodded and dashed off. Riley shifted in her seat, attempting to sit more upright. This was the trial that Boyle didn’t know what to do about, the one that would require more focus.

When Gerald was brought before them, he immediately tried to speak, but closed his mouth again after a stern look and hand gesture from Boyle.

“Gerald, have you ever witnessed a trial before?” Boyle asked the boy.

“No,” he answered, more words trembling on his lips but staying put.

“You will be given a chance to make a statement
after
evidence is given. You’re free to demand any witnesses mentioned against you be called forth; however, the reason they’re not here now is that they’re rather busy at the moment. While evidence is given, keep your mouth shut; you can argue against it in your statement. Think you can do that?”

Gerald nodded, his jaw clenched tight.

“Gerald stands accused of harbouring a zombie within our walls, and the attempted murder of Nessie. Evidence against: chains that match the description of those seen holding the zombie were found in your container. Tools that match the bolts left behind in the container were also found, as were healthy hair samples that match the colour and length of your hair. Some of your neighbours have attested to seeing or hearing you leave your container in the middle of the night and not return until hours later. No one has yet claimed to be your friend or really knows you all that well, which speaks against your character. As to Nessie, you were seen attempting to strangle her. Unfortunately, she is still unconscious and no one has yet been able to determine if she’ll ever awaken. Riley says that before she fell unconscious, Nessie told her that you had something to do with the zombie in the container. For those of you who may not know, Nessie was the one to report the zombie to us after some kids discovered it and went to her about it. Freya conducted the majority of the investigation. Evidence for: no one has seen the zombie since it was moved. No one has actually seen Gerald anywhere near where the zombie was kept. Thankfully, no one’s been killed so far, and only Nessie’s been hurt. Several people have also attested that Gerald fought the zombies just as hard as anyone. I think that about covers everything.” Boyle’s announcement that a zombie had been found being kept within the container yard’s wall rippled through the crowded community centre.

“I’m on trial because I have no friends?” Gerald’s voice cracked. “I have trouble sleeping at night so I go for walks sometimes. I’m not the only one. I’ve seen lots of people out at night, and I guess my neighbours aren’t sleeping either if they noticed. My hair is brown and kept short like every other guy here. Harry, your hair is the same. And plenty of people have tools in their containers, and the chains I bring outside the wall with me when I help clear containers. Sometimes we have a use for them depending on what we find. And I was trying to
help
Nessie when that bird attacked me.” He gestured to the puffy red scratches on his face and bandages someone had applied to the deeper wounds that had bled.

Riley knew he was lying about the last bit, which immediately put everything else into question for her. Why would he try to kill Nessie if it wasn’t related to this captive zombie?

“Anyone have any resolutions to put forth?” Boyle asked wearily. “Gerald, please don’t speak during this unless asked.”

“I say we execute him,” Angela immediately suggested, fully believing in Gerald’s guilt.

“That’s too extreme: no one was killed,” Crichton countered.

“Can I ask a question?” Riley spoke up. “Gerald, how old are you?”

“Eighteen, or there abouts.” His face had paled at Angela’s suggestion, making the scratches look almost unreal in their red contrast.

“Who’s your guardian?” Harry asked next.

“I came here two years ago and you guys said I was old enough and capable enough not to need one.” Gerald’s voice was tight, suggesting his throat was swelling with tension. Riley felt fine with that, hoping he struggled to breathe so that he would know what it was like for Nessie right now.

“Who took care of you before you got here?” Harry continued.

Gerald shrugged. “Various people. Most of them kept dying.”

“I see.” Harry nodded as if something had been confirmed for him.

“I think I know what you’re getting at, if I may speak,” Evans chimed in.

“Go ahead.”

“Children raised outside walls like these, with no one teaching them in any consistent way, turn strange. I’ve seen it happen. Watching so many die around them, they develop a skewed view on death and can no longer properly connect with people. Adults break out there, while children merely bend into something twisted.”

Gerald’s face went from white to red as his eyes filled with tears. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but he failed to decide what to say and kept it shut in the end.

“Tommy? You’ve spent a lot of time out in the wilds, what do you think?” Boyle looked to the other outsider.

“I’ve seen a lot of people do a lot of bad things and not even realize they were doing it. Do I think this kid could’ve done what you said? Sure, of course. Do I also think it could be someone who seems totally adjusted? Certainly. You never know what someone is capable of until they do it.”

“Let’s clear some things up. Who thinks Gerald attacked Nessie?” Crichton asked, raising his hand. Everyone else with a vote did the same. “And who thinks he kept a zombie in a container?”

Riley believed Nessie knew what she was talking about, so she raised her hand alongside Angela, Crichton, and Boyle. Only Harry didn’t raise his hand, believing Gerald was, or at least could be, innocent.

“So all that remains is sentencing,” Crichton confirmed.

“I still say we execute him,” Angela crossed her arms firmly. “If he did it once, what’s to stop him from doing it again in the future?”

“Your point is fair, but execution is too much,” Boyle agreed with Crichton.

“Well, if you don’t want to give him a confinement sentence, and you don’t want to kill him, that leaves only banishment,” Riley followed the thread to its conclusion.

“That’s as good as execution,” Gerald squeaked.

“You survived, what? Nine years outside the wall already?” Crichton spoke to him. “I’m sure you have the skills to survive long enough to find another shelter that will take you in. We’d give you food and water supplies, as well as a weapon. Not a gun, we don’t have enough ammo for that, but a good blade. If you confess now and tell us why you did what you did, and what happened to the zombie, perhaps we’ll come up with a different solution.”

Gerald imitated a fish again, his mouth opening and closing silently, but he said nothing and finally went still.

“So, are we agreed on the resolution? Confinement until the next scavenging party goes out, and then exile?” Boyle looked around the circle and no one objected. “Vote.”

Everyone raised their hand except Harry, but then after a moment of thought, he raised his as well.

“Exile it is.”

Evans watched the prisoner’s face turn from white, to red, and then back to white following his sentencing.

“Can someone please take him back to a holding container?” Boyle asked the witnesses clustered around.

Gerald had gone completely limp, his eyes distant, and had to be carried from the space. Evans had been worried he might fly into a rage and attack, but he seemed to have gone the other way, at least for now.

“You had something you wanted to talk to us about?” Boyle turned to Evans. “Something about the group that attacked the Black Box?”

“Yes,” Evans nodded, remembering his half-formed plan. “I don’t know what this Black Box is, and I don’t know the people who attacked you. It’s possible they’re the same people who picked off our scavengers, but there’s no way to know for sure. What I do know, is that some of your people heard part of the battle from there, which means they will have heard it. If the wind is right, they’re also going to see the smoke from your body burns.”

“He’s right, we definitely heard something although most weren’t sure it came from this direction,” the woman who demanded execution, the one who Evans hadn’t been introduced to, spoke up. “You said you guys used grenades, so I’m guessing that’s what we heard.”

“We don’t know much about that group, so there’s a chance they’ll come this way to investigate,” Crichton sighed and ran a hand down the side of his face. Evans had been introduced to him not long before this odd version of court.

“I may know of a way to help you.”

“How?”

“Your place here is nice, one of the better ones I’ve come across. I’m going to advise my party members to stay with you.”

“This sounds like you don’t intend to stay yourself,” the woman with deep bags beneath her eyes and wrapped in bandages under her jacket cut to the point.

“I don’t. I’ve never been comfortable staying anywhere for too long. I had planned to stay for a few days, help you clean up, but I think a better use for my time has arisen. Let me change my clothes, pack my supplies, and pick one of my horses. You take me to a safe place beyond the wall using that submarine of yours, and give me directions to your second camp. I’ll go over there and make up some story that explains the noises and the smoke.”

“What story?” asked the archer who’d fired two grenades with his arrows.

“I haven’t gotten that far yet, but I’m sure I’ll have time to come up with one. I can even take that exile with me, if you’d like. If he’s with me, he’s less likely to try to find his way back. In fact, I know of some camps who’d take him, even knowing what he did, provided they still exist.”

“It would buy us some time,” Crichton said, turning to Boyle.

“Time for what?” the bandaged woman asked, although Boyle looked like he might have asked the same thing.

“We can’t take the Black Box back, not with our diminished ammo supplies and not with them knowing where the entrance is to the vehicle elevator outside the walls. But there is something we can do to hurt them. I think it’s best we continue to discuss this somewhere more private.” Crichton looked around at all the watchful eyes and listening ears.

Boyle agreed and the ring of people rose.

“Tommy, you’re welcome to come listen in if you’d like,” Crichton told him. “If we do drop off Evans, perhaps we can arrange to pick up your remaining group members.”

Tommy nodded.

“I should be getting back to work unless you think you need me,” the archer declared.

“Go ahead, we’ll find you if we need you for something.”

The angry woman went with the archer, leaving without a word.

“He may be going, but I’m coming with you,” the bandaged woman insisted, although she looked ready to collapse back into her seat.

Crichton looked ready to object, but Boyle spoke up first. “Your opinion would be welcome.”

“Claire,” the bandaged woman turned to the young woman who had brought Evans to his trial, “could you tell Hope where I’ve gone? And keep an eye on her and the other kids; I don’t entirely trust Quin to watch out for them any longer than I already have.”

“You got it.”

“You can lean on me if you’d like,” Evans told the woman as they moved toward the throng of people who surrounded the ring of chairs.

“Thanks.” She managed to put a lot of caution into that one word as she placed a hand on his upper arm, not so much leaning on him as using him to steady herself.

“I don’t believe we were introduced. I’m Evans.” He would have offered his hand, but it would have been awkward as they threaded through the crowd.

“Riley.”

“May I ask what happened to you, Riley?”

“Breast cancer with an extremely poor sense of timing.”

“You were able to determine that you had cancer?”

“The Black Box still has a lot of modern medical equipment, along with the power to run it.”

“You’re a fortunate group.”

“In that way, yes.”

They exited the building, stepping back out into sunlight. It seemed that as soon as the rats appeared, all efforts were diverted to clearing the dead bodies away from the structure; a space had been created around the whole building. People with handheld weapons and thick pants had formed a ring within the space, ready to smash any rats that tried to get through. A whole swarm of cats and dogs were also patrolling for the vermin. The people too tired to deal with the rats were mostly crowded into the refurbished warehouse, but a group of them seemed to have ducked inside the holding containers. More people were being instructed to climb up on top of them and the roof, where most of Evans’ party members had made their stand. Evans wondered if they had accidentally broken any of the solar panels up there.

“Ki-nam!” he called out upon spotting the man.

The older man walked over and didn’t bother with a greeting, even though they hadn’t seen one another since before the zombies. Evans was glad to see he had survived.

“These people have agreed to let us stay here if we want. Can you start spreading the word to the others?”

Ki-nam nodded, heading back to whatever he had been doing. He’d tell people as he came across them.

Evans continued to follow Boyle, Crichton, and Tommy to wherever they planned to have this meeting. When they came across a dark-haired man with broad shoulders, they stopped briefly.

“Bronislav, think everyone can handle things without you for a moment? We’re having a meeting that you should sit in on,” Crichton told him.

The man named Bronislav looked around at what was going on, then agreed things would be fine and joined their little party. Boyle, limping, took them down an alley between containers that people had started to clear out, knocking on doors until he found one that was empty. They all clustered inside. Crichton found and lit a lantern on a shelf, their only source of light once the doors were closed behind them. In the fiery glow, Riley made her way to a pair of bunk beds at the back and sat down on one of the lower ones. Soon, they all clustered back there, three to a bed. Evans wondered whose home they had invaded.

“I had heard that Karsten was killed, but I’d like to confirm that before we start,” Crichton spoke first.

“I saw it myself,” Boyle told him.

The lack of care on Crichton’s face as he heard this made Evans wonder if he was trained to do that, or if the man was like himself, unable to properly connect.

“To bring everyone up to speed, the Black Box was taken last night. We had found a boy, half-starved, and took him in, never suspecting he was actually a plant for a large group of well-armed raiders. He somehow got word to them, letting them know where the entrance to the vehicle elevator was, the only entrance beyond our fences, and likely told them everything else he had learned. Although we had sealed the entrance to the vehicle elevator, they somehow managed to get it open and get inside, allowing them to attack us from both above and below at the same time. We were quickly overwhelmed and many, including myself, were captured, while the rest barricaded themselves inside whatever room they happened to be in. They proved they were more than willing to kill hostages, so in the end, I had no choice but to give them the Black Box to keep anyone else from dying.”

“That was early this morning. We then led everyone to the submarine and brought them here,” Bronislav finished.

“I was one of the last people out, making sure no one was held back. Only then did my man who was holed up with the power supply open the door and let them have access to it. What people don’t know, what Bronislav and I only shared with a necessary few, is about the explosives.”

“Explosives?” Boyle frowned.

“Around the power supply, in the hydroponics and medical labs, and around every entrance and elevator shaft, are hidden several stable but powerful explosive charges.”

“Why would you set those?” Boyle asked angrily. Beside Evans, Riley squirmed uncomfortably, pulling her tattered leather jacket more tightly around her shoulders.

“There’s a reason we never told anyone what the power source is,” Bronislav explained. “Having lived in a submarine, I know how nervous people get around nuclear energy.”

“The Black Box is nuclear?” Riley gasped. “I always thought it was some new thing that Marble Keystone had come up with but not shared with the rest of the world.”

Marble Keystone?
Evans wondered how the company that released the zombie plague was related to all of this.

“It is a new technology,” Bronislav told her. “I don’t understand it very well myself, but the engineers we’ve let in there tell me that it’s far more stable and efficient than anything they’ve seen. The former NASA engineer with us says it’s even better than what they had been building for their rovers that never made it to Mars. Still, people are uncomfortable near the stuff, so we told no one. Let them think as you did.”

“So the explosives are for…?” Boyle prompted them to get back on track.

“In case there was ever a leak, an emergency precaution. We’d have everyone evacuate, and then bury the place.”

While Bronislav spoke, Evans watched Crichton’s face. The man was solid, hard to read, but Evans thought he saw something flicker there. If he had to guess, he’d say that wasn’t the only reason Crichton had planted the explosives. The man had probably guessed something like this would eventually happen, the locations of the explosives backing up this theory. Why else put them in medical and hydroponics labs?

“So you want to set these explosives off and bury the attackers,” Riley came back around to the start of the conversation.

“We’d lose the Black Box,” Crichton nodded, “but we’d rid ourselves of them. We could hope to salvage the farm fields, and not have to worry about them coming here, at least not in large numbers.”

“How do you set them off?” Tommy wondered.

“I have the remote.” Bronislav took the device out of his pocket. It was a simple thing with a twist dial to turn on the power, and a switch under a protective plastic shell. “I was able to hide it on me before they took over the command centre.” He wouldn’t say how, suggesting it wasn’t a comfortable method of smuggling.

“I’m guessing there’s a reason you haven’t set it off yet,” Evans figured.

“Range,” Crichton told him. “To make sure all of them are set off, you’d pretty much need to be directly above the centre of the compound.”

“Which we can’t get to because they’ll be guarding the place, and we can’t storm it because of our minuscule amount of ammo,” Boyle sighed.

“Did you leave anyone behind? When we boarded the submarine?” Riley wondered, an odd expression pulling at her features.

“Jamal stayed behind to watch if we were followed, and in case James showed up with the others who went out. We’re supposed to pick him up in a week, why?”

“Because I might have a plan if everyone is willing, and we’re definitely going to need Harry.”

The way she said it made Evans nervous.