Last Stand (The Survivalist Book 7) (8 page)

BOOK: Last Stand (The Survivalist Book 7)
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“The whole world needs help. A chatterbox and a giant aren’t going to change that.”

“Still, I’d feel better knowing what’s going on.” Samantha scrambled up the dirt bank on her hands and knees. “Come on,” she said, waving for him to follow.

Tanner sighed and climbed after her, confident that nothing good was going to come of their butting into someone else’s troubles.

When they got to the top of the embankment, the area opened up to reveal two sprawling bodies of water surrounded by a chain link fence. Together, the pools stretched a thousand feet from one end to the other, and probably half that in width. At first, Tanner thought they were man-made lakes, which made absolutely no sense given the value of real estate in the D.C. metropolitan area. It was only when he spotted a sign hanging on the fence that he understood what they were looking at.
Georgetown Reservoir.
No Trespassing!

Two men and a short, fat woman had gathered in the center of a concrete walkway that bisected the reservoir. They watched as another man waded out into the waist-deep water, shoving a young woman ahead of him. Without warning, he kicked her feet out from under her, and she fell with an indignant splash. He turned, exchanged a few words with one of the men on the walkway, and then began dunking her heard under the water.

“What are they doing?” asked Samantha.

“Drowning someone would be my guess.”

She slowly brought her rifle up to her shoulder.

“We have to stop them.”

“Whoa, Tiger,” he said, resting his hand on the barrel. “We don’t know who’s in the right and who’s in the wrong.”

“Good people don’t drown other people.”

“I don’t know about that. I could see myself drowning someone.”

“Like I said.”

“Even so, this isn’t our fight.”

Without taking her eyes away from the sights, Samantha said, “Maybe not, but I can’t stand here and watch them drown that lady. You’d better do something, or I’m going to start shooting.”

Tanner stared out at the group, considering his options. While he was clearly outnumbered, only the two men on the berm appeared to be carrying rifles.

Finally, he said, “You ever see the movie
Lethal Weapon
?”

She thought for a moment. “Did it star Johnny Depp?”

Tanner furrowed his brow. “No, of course not.”

“Because he’s pretty funny.”

“It wasn’t Johnny Depp. Anyway, in the movie—”

“I loved him in
Edward Scissorhands
. Did you ever see that?”

“No, but—”

“Oh, you’ve got to see it. He’s got scissors for hands.” She cracked up. “Can you imagine? How could you do anything with scissors?” She pretended to slice the air with her fingers.

“Sam,” he growled.

“What?”

“I was suggesting that you act as the sniper while I go check it out.”

“You want me to cover you?”

“That’s right.”

She looked puzzled. “Then why’d you bring up Johnny Depp?”

Tanner rolled his eyes. “I’m going over the fence. Try not to shoot me in the back.”

“Sure thing.” She stepped behind a tree and rested her rifle on one of the branches. As Tanner climbed over the fence, she called out, “Scissors for hands. Crazy, right?”

By the time Tanner scaled the fence, the group had stopped and turned to face him. Thankfully, the person doing the drowning had also stopped, allowing the victim, a woman in her mid-thirties, to briefly catch her breath. She coughed and spat, flailing about as she desperately tried to free herself. The man in the water was tall and fit, like a tennis player, and he held the woman with his arm outstretched, fingers knotted in the tangle of her long black hair.

Everyone was eying Tanner warily. Based on their ages and facial similarities, the men all looked to be related, likely a father and his two sons. The fat woman showed no resemblance to anyone and had a pompous air about her. Fortunately, the rifles that Tanner had seen from a distance turned out to be baseball bats. Dangerous, yes, but not in the way a rifle was. The fat woman and the man in the water also each had a fixed-blade hunting knife on their belt. Apocalypse or not, decades of strict gun control laws in the nation’s capital had made it difficult for the city’s survivors to put their hands on firearms.

Tanner marched out onto the cement walkway like a night watchmen confronting a group of teenagers caught skinny dipping.

As he got closer, the oldest of the men said, “Good morning, stranger.”

Tanner glanced over at the woman in the water. Wet hair hung down in front of her face like strands of seaweed, but through it, he could see that her skin was scarred from the pox. Even so, she possessed a wild beauty that neither tangled hair nor blemishes could hide.

“Not for her it isn’t.”

The man offered a reassuring smile.

“Travis is doing God’s work.”

Travis jerked the woman’s head back, tilting her face up to the sunlight. She screamed and pressed her black eyes shut.

“See?” said Travis, obviously indifferent to her pain. “The Devil’s gotten into this one.”

“And you figured a little baptizing might do the trick, is that it?”

“Exactly.”

The older man stepped closer and extended his hand.

“I’m Riley Cooper, and these are my boys, Mitch and Travis.” He turned and nodded toward the chubby woman. “Jena here joined us a while back. She’s helping to ensure that God’s seed is replanted.” The woman puffed out her bosom, as if showing off her wares at a brothel.

“I’m sure she is,” Tanner said, making no move to shake the man’s hand. It was a sucker’s play from way back when. And even if it wasn’t, he felt no need to assure the man of his having friendly intentions.

The infected woman tried to get to her feet, and when she did, Travis dunked her head back under, holding it for a good ten count. When he finally pulled her back up, she coughed and spat as dark green water trickled from her nose.

Tanner said, “Keep doing that, and she’s going to drown.”

“Who are you to question God’s will?” argued Travis. “Besides, she’s nothing but a wild animal.” He slid the knife free from his belt and placed the blade against her throat. The woman became very still, her eyes opening to reveal their inky black contents. “If I slit her throat, it would be no different than killing a rabid dog.”

“It’d be different,” growled Tanner.

“How do you figure?”

He swung the shotgun up. “Because if you open her up, I’m going to open you up.”

Travis’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve got no cause to threaten us. People have been killing these monsters since the virus first got out.”

“Maybe so, but this one’s not dying by your hand.”

Tanner saw the woman mouth something but couldn’t make it out. Maybe a thank you. Maybe just crazy infected talk. Either way, it didn’t matter. He wasn’t doing this for her. Not really, he wasn’t. Samantha would probably say he was only intervening because she had nagged him into it, and that part was true enough. But the real reason he was stepping in was because four assholes had forgotten the value of human life. And that was something he couldn’t walk away from.

“We’re trying to purify her spirit by ridding her of the hate,” explained Riley. “This is about mercy, not violence.”

Tanner felt his blood pressure start to rise. He didn’t like religious zealots of any flavor, but he held a special loathing for the ones who hid behind faith as a means to inflict suffering. When there was a need to hurt someone, it was better to just come out with it. No need to hide behind frilly religious veils.

“Yeah,” he said, “nothing says godly love better than a little waterboarding. Now listen up, because I’m only going to say this once.” He paused to be sure that he had everyone’s attention. “Let her go.”

Riley, Mitch, Jena, and Travis all started to protest at once, arguing something about respecting the sanctity of their religious beliefs.

Tanner held up a hand. “Save it.”

The four exchanged glances, obviously trying to come to a collective mind on whether or not to comply. Jena whispered something to Mitch that seemed to sting like a hot butter knife. The young man stepped up beside Riley, clutching the bat in front of him with both hands.

“Think twice about what you’re about to do,” warned Tanner. “You wouldn’t be the first knuckleheads to go to your graves because of a mouthy woman.”

“It’s like Jena said. There are four of us, and only one of you.”

Tanner patted the shotgun. “That’s true, but this is what the military likes to call a force multiplier.”

Their eyes focused on the business end of the shotgun, and it seemed to weaken their resolve.

Riley looked over at Travis. “Let her go, son.”

“But we need another woman.” He glanced at Jena. “No offense.”

She snorted and turned her nose up.

“Just let her go. God will provide.”

Travis begrudgingly let go of the woman’s hair and raised his hands slightly into the air. As soon as he did, all hell broke loose. The woman immediately bolted out of the water, splashing her way up the embankment. But she didn’t turn and race away like everyone expected her to do. Instead, she tore into the small group, biting, clawing, and screaming like the bride of a Viking berserker.

Riley and Mitch both spun around, pushing her away as they tried to create a gap large enough for their bats. Travis, too, raced after her, drawing his knife.

Tanner watched the melee for a split second and then stepped forward and beaned Mitch in the back of the head with the butt of his shotgun. The man’s legs buckled, and he crumpled to the concrete. Riley turned and shoved the point of his bat into Tanner’s chest. The blow didn’t have much behind it, but it was enough to irritate him.

Tanner flipped the shotgun around, gripped the muzzle, and swung it at Riley’s head, one bat against another. The stock caught him on the cheekbone, and he tumbled into the reservoir.

By the time Tanner looked back, the infected woman had managed to knock Jena to the ground and was now beating and scratching her face. For her part, Jena had resorted to wrapping her arms around her head as she tried desperately to fend off the wildcat off. What the infected woman couldn’t see was Travis racing up behind her with his knife raised.

Tanner’s options were limited at best. Travis was only eight feet from the women, while he was a good fifteen. Basic math said there was no way he was going to get to Travis before his blade drew blood. Nor could he fire the shotgun without the very real chance of winging the infected woman in the back, something that would undoubtedly put a real damper on the rescue effort.

With two of the four already out of commission, Tanner made a calculated gamble that things could be handled without the use of a firearm. He reared back and flung the shotgun along the ground like a Hopi throwing stick. It caught Travis in the back of his left knee, and he stumbled and fell, the knife skittering away into the water.

Tanner closed the gap with three large steps and high stomped on the back of his neck. Travis’s face smacked into the concrete, breaking his nose and splitting open his chin. He cried out in pain, but before he could put up any kind of fight, Tanner reached down and rolled him off into the reservoir. The man’s head quickly bobbed back to the surface, and he splashed his way toward Riley.

Meanwhile, Jena had managed to briefly free herself from the infected woman and was hurriedly crawling into the water to escape the vicious onslaught. By the time the infected woman got to her feet, only she and Tanner remained on the walkway. With the others out of the way, he could now see her more clearly. Even covered in grime, it was clear that she had once been an incredibly beautiful woman. The virus had taken its toll to be sure, leaving her skin scarred and her eyes glistening with black ink. But it had also enhanced her strong lean body, and she stood before him like an Amazon warrior, violent and raw.

Tanner gave her a quick nod and reached down to retrieve his shotgun.  

When she spoke, her voice was soft but throaty, like she had been freed from the hangman’s noose.

“Why?” she breathed.

He glanced over at her captors, all of whom were cupping split lips or broken noses.

“I guess I’m more like you than I am them.”

She touched a scar on her cheek.

“But I’m a monster.”

He shrugged. “Had the same said about me a time or two.”

Her lips turned up into a sly grin.

“What’s your name?”

“Tanner. You?”

“Issa.”

Tanner didn’t know if it was short for Melissa, but it seemed to fit her well enough.

He nodded. “Good to meet you, Issa.”

She stepped closer, and Tanner couldn’t help but tighten his grip on the shotgun. Issa came so close that he could feel the steam radiating off her body. Her hand slowly came up and rested against his cheek.

“Thank you.”

That’s when things got a little weird. Issa suddenly leaned in and kissed him on the mouth. Despite her inky eyes and scarred flesh, he felt no urge to retreat. Her lips were warm and moist, and he saw only the beautiful woman who once was. The kiss lasted but a single second, and when she pulled away, her black eyes studied him for a reaction.

BOOK: Last Stand (The Survivalist Book 7)
4.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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