The Left Series (Book 4): Left In The Cold (4 page)

“Where’s Spot, Brett?” Batfish asked me.

“He’s upstairs in my room,” I replied. “I’ll have to take him for his walk soon.”

Venturing outside with the dog was all but impossible so I’d taken to walking him around the internal perimeter of the hotel. He had to do his toilet business in the swimming pool shower room, where I could easily clear it up with paper or spray it down the drain. Occasionally, I’d had to clear away a little mishap on the carpet in the upstairs room or the wooden boards on the ground floor.

Milner
marched into the dining area around fifteen minutes later. His shoulders were hunched and he had a hangdog expression on his face. I knew whatever he was going to say wasn’t going to be good news.

“Listen, guys,” Milner sighed, holding his hand to his chin. “This whole situation is a complete fuck up. I know Kaunas was an accident waiting to happen and I kind of expected something like this to go off, pretty soon.
But I can’t allow this kind of thing to occur on a regular basis, otherwise we’ll all end up shooting the shit out of each other in a few more weeks. I’m going to put a restriction on carrying firearms and keep the bar opening times to a minimum. I’ll guard the damn place myself if I have to.” Milner rubbed the stubble on his chin and looked to the floor. I knew there was more to come.

“Hey, we didn’t start this, Milner,” Smith protested.

Milner raised his hand to stop Smith’s gripe. “I know, I know that but it’s going to be real hard to keep the peace in here now, Smith.”

“So, what are you saying?” Smith asked flatly.

Milner sighed again. I could tell the poor guy was squirming inside. “The way I see it is, those guys in the bar aren’t going to let this go. They’re going to come after you, Smith, you know that.” He glanced at me and I noticed the sorrow in his eyes. “Same with you, Wilde. Just because of your association with Smith, here. You’re both in this together, so far as I see it. I hate to do this, guys but I see only one positive solution to this problem. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you both to leave the hotel.”

Chapter Five

I had a feeling a bombshell like this was coming. I put myself in Milner’s shoes for a second and realized he didn’t have much choice. The main problem was law and order had
totally broken down, even amongst the collection of various military personnel.

Batfish gasped and held her hand over her mouth after Milner invited Smith and I to leave the premises.
The six of us crowded around Milner in a rough circle.

“What?” she hissed. “You can’t do that, Milner.”

Milner shook his head and glanced down at his boots. “I’m sorry, Batfish. It’s the only way I can prevent a bloodbath from occurring, right here.”

“Why can’t you tell those guys to leave?” she huffed.

“Because they belong with the rest of them,” Smith interrupted. “We’re outsiders and there are less of us. Besides, there’s no telling what those crazy bastards might do if Milner, here, threw them out of the door. They’d probably come back and torch the place.”

Milner’s head snapped quickly upright and he stared at Smith with wide eyes.

“You wouldn’t do that, would you, Smith? I mean…set fire to the place.”

Smith shook his head. “Of course I wouldn’t. You’re a stand up guy, Milner. I understand what you got to do.”

“What about the rest of us?” Wingate asked. “What are we going to do? Hang around here and wait to get raped?” She glared at Milner with scorn burning in her eyes.

“You can all go with Smith and Wilde if you want to. I can’t stop you but I need to put an end to this,” Milner sighed.

“Well, I’m definitely going with them,” Wingate declared. “I’m not waiting around here to get gang raped and murdered in the middle of the night.”

“I’ll do my best to protect you,” Milner said.

“Hah!” Wingate huffed, waving her arms in the air in frustration. “A fine job you’ve done so far.”

“Okay, Sarah,” Smith muttered, holding his arm across Wingate’s chest.

“I can’t stay either,” Batfish said. “Whatever retribution they’re planning, they’ll come for me too.”

“If Batfish goes, I go,” Gera declared, wrapping his arm around Batfish’s shoulders.

Cordoba glanced across at me. “I’m not staying either,” she said. “I’d rather take my chances out there than be left in here, just waiting for that time when somebody puts a knife to my throat.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, glad Cordoba was going to accompany us. I ultimately felt disappointed with the outcome of the situation but to stay in the hotel would be suicide. Sooner or later, Van Outmen or any of his guys would seek revenge.

“All right,” Milner said, nodding. “I respect your decisions and I wish you all the best of luck.”

“Do you want us to go pack our things?” Wingate seethed, pointing to the doorway.

Milner shook his head. “No, you can stay the remainder of the night. I’m not that callous. I’ll have these two guys keep an eye on you tonight and the same goes for those guys in the bar. I’ll have somebody fetch some bedding for you to sleep down here. Once again, I’m real sorry to have to do this, guys.” He turned, brushed between Gera and Cordoba and headed for the doorway.

The two Marines brandishing M-16s stayed put, either side of the entranceway. Both looked tired and bored, not relishing having to stay up all night to guard us.

We stood in silence for a few seconds, all with glum expressions on our faces trying to come to terms with our new predicament. I for
one wasn’t too sorry to be moving out. I’d grown increasingly uneasy about staying in the hotel with all the bad feeling and increasing amount of grudges. It seemed most people left in the hotel were looking for reasons not to like everybody else. I knew Kaunas wouldn’t be the last to die inside the Glenross Hotel.  

“I knew he was fucking spineless,” Wingate hissed through clenched teeth. “
Milner’s going with the easy option here.”

Smith slid his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. I was surprised, I’d never seen Smith show any affection before. Maybe he had finally found somebody he really cared about.

“Well, at least we get to stay the night,” I said, hopelessly trying to lighten the mood.

“It’ll be a new beginning for us all,” Gera said cheerily.

I was glad Gera was going to be tagging along. He was a good Marine and I knew he’d have our backs if we ever got into serious trouble. The guy seemed to take the positives out of every situation, which was exactly what we all needed.

Batfish asked the female Navy rating, who entered the dining room with some pillows and blankets, to fetch Spot from my bedroom. We couldn’t leave the little guy alone in the hotel as Van Outmen and his thugs would no doubt take out their frustrations on our dog. Who would miss a little Jack Russell once we were gone in the morning?

The Navy girl returned a few minutes later with Spot tethered on his leash. He wagged his tail like crazy when he saw us and his ears lay flat across his head. The poor guy knew something was up.

Spot settled down with Batfish and Gera on top of the blanket they shared. Wingate and Smith huddled up in the far corner of the room and Cordoba and I shared a make-shift bed under one of the larger wooden dining tables. The two Marine sentries said they’d have to
leave the candles burning to give them enough light to see. Milner had promised them a relief sometime after midnight.

Sleeping proved difficult. All the events from the past months since the outbreak whirred around my mind like a kaleidoscope. Images of the faces of the people we’d lost along the way swirled around in my brain. Eazy, Donna, Rosenberg,
my father, Chief Cole, Dr Soames, the other dog Sherman, and of course, Julia, all swam around in my head. I saw the mocking face of my alternative self, laughing hysterically at my latest troubled predicament. I hadn’t seen the other form of my personality for a while and I kind of hoped he wouldn’t reappear again. My hallucinations and bouts of deep depression had faded almost completely since we’d been holed up at the Glenross Hotel. Probably, my relationship with Cordoba had helped but I didn’t want to return to that dark place in my mind.

The Marine sentries shuffled around in the doorway, obviously trying to shake off the fatigue threatening to engulf them. Cordoba snored gently next to me, her head resting on my chest. I opened my eyes, wondering what the new dawn would bring. Smith, Batfish and I had survived on our wits for long enough before, we could do again. We’d have to get back into survival mode once more. The stay at the hotel had only been a brief reprieve. Milner and the rest wouldn’t be able to stay put forever. They’d have to move on eventually when the supplies dwindled or they all killed each other.

Come the end of the winter, the place would probably be crawling with undead anyhow. Time was a strange thing. The milk had turned sour at the Glenross Hotel. We’d been lucky to last without major issues as long as we had. It was time to move even without the evening’s shocking events. Stay still too long and you were dead. 

Chapter Six

I must have dozed off some time during the night. I awoke with a groggy head and wondered where the hell I was for a moment. The events of the previous evening came flooding back into my mind as I rubbed my eyes and sat up. Faint
shards of daylight peeked through the gaps between the boards across the windows.   

The Marine sentries were still guarding the doorway but had changed in personnel. Two fresh faced young black guys gripped their M-16s and looked determined to do their duties to the best of their abilities. I couldn’t remember seeing the sentries change and wondered what time these guys had come on duty.

Cordoba was already up and dressed, sitting on the dining table reading my ‘
Ray Mears
’ survival book.

“Hey,” she muttered, as I crawled out from beneath the table.

“Hi, you okay?” I croaked, reaching for a bottle of water on the table.

“Sure,” she said, looking up at me from the pages of the book.

Smith and Wingate stirred and thrashed around under the blanket. Batfish and Gera were already up and about, walking Spot around the perimeter of the dining room and talking between themselves in hushed tones.

Milner entered the dining room, flanked by two Marines clutching M-16 rifles a few moments later. He looked troubled and I knew he was going through an inner turmoil.

“We’ll escort you up to your rooms, two at a time to collect your gear and of course, we’ll supply you with what we can spare,” he said, struggling over the words.

“Ah! Is it that time already?” Smith groaned from under his blanket. He sighed and flicked the covers off of himself and Wingate. She moaned, yawned and stretched before rising to her feet.

We cleared up the bedding and dumped it on one of the dining room tables. Batfish and Gera went up to their rooms first, each escorted by one of the armed Marines that had accompanied Milner. When they returned, Cordoba and I were chaperoned upstairs to our respective rooms. My armed guard waited outside the door when I entered my bedroom.

I didn’t have much to gather together. The items of my past life were long since discarded. Even before the outbreak, I didn’t own many possessions. I took a quick shower before scooping up a few spare items of clothing and dumping them in a military style rucksack.
I took one last look at the view outside of my window and wondered what the hotel grounds would look like when the snow had receded. That was one of the world’s sights I was never going to see. 

Cordoba and the two Marines were waiting for me outside in the corridor. She had a rucksack slung over her shoulder and was dressed in clean combat fatigues with a
white colored, cold weather parker coat over the top.

Once we were back downstairs in the dining room, Smith and Wingate were escorted upstairs to their room. As we waited, Cordoba got stuck into my survival book again. Gera and Batfish went through a checklist of things they were going to need. Poor old Gera seemed to be stuffing a large amount of items into his rucksack. No doubt the big guy was going to be carrying the lion’s share of his and Batfish’s gear.
Milner sat on top of a table on his own, silently staring at the floor. He’d supplied us with extra cold weather clothing, M16 rifles and spare ammunition, tins of food and bottles of water. Milner had been as good as his word and hadn’t let us down. 

Smith and Wingate returned, carrying a rucksack each. To my horror, Smith lugged the heavy, cash deposit box behind him. We’d liberated the metallic black box full of U.S. dollars, handguns and spare ammunition from a drug lord
, called Lazaru in New Orleans. The damn cash box had been the bane of my life ever since.