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  Connor cursed, lowering his handgun. “Nothing.”

  “There has to be something here!” James exclaimed, moving to the empty shelving against the wall.

  This was the second subdivision they’d checked, containing dozens of houses. And still, they were completely empty-handed. This wasn’t going at all how they’d expected. They’d spent three hours searching and for nothing. Time was running out.

  “Son of a—” James yelled, pushing the empty shelving over. “There’s nothing here! How can there be nothing in any of these houses? Not a scrap of food or a single round.”

  “Somebody’s been here,” Connor said, “and cleaned the whole place out.”

  “No shit, Sherlock!” James said.

  “Don’t get pissed at me. We both knew this was a long shot.”

  James sighed. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how we’re gonna do this. How the hell are we supposed to go up against that many and come out alive? It’s just gonna get us all killed.”

  “It might, but I’d rather die fighting than surrender.”

  “You’re just full of motivation tonight aren’t you?”

  “Somebody has to be. Usually, my big brother is, but he’s having a tough time right now. So I’m stepping up on the inspirational speeches.”

  James shook his head and stared at the shelf he’d knocked over.

  Connor was worried for his brother. This whole thing with finding the group and taking on the responsibility of leadership was eating away at James, especially when things went wrong—as they inevitably did. Connor was trying to help his brother find his way through all this.

  How do you do that when you, yourself are lost? Connor thought.

  Connor had never reconciled with the fact that God had let their parents die. Yes, he knew God hadn’t caused their deaths, but they were dead now. Nothing could change that. Bad things did happen, whether to good or bad people. That was just part of life. But the pill was easier to swallow when it wasn’t your own parents who’d been brutally murdered. He had all this anger inside of him, with regrets and guilt piled on top. Would those feeling ever go away? Or would they be what finally broke him, like it was breaking his brother?

  “Let’s go,” James said, walking back through the door and into the house.

  Connor followed. How had they even gotten themselves into this situation? One day, they’d been on the ranch in Montana with not a care in the world. The next, they were fighting for their lives in a race to save their parents. They’d failed miserably at that. Then they’d rescued Emmett, Alexis, and Ana, and things had begun to look up. But that had only lasted for a day and then their naïve sense of wonder gave way to the harsh reality of the world. Now here they were, searching for a few rounds or guns that wouldn’t even make a bit of difference against what they faced. Were they willing to risk their lives, everything they had left, for strangers? He almost wished they could just leave them, continue north to Alaska, set up at their wilderness camp, and make a life for themselves. But he knew in his heart that wasn’t an option, no matter how much he might want it. They could never run from something like this. It was in his nature to fight to his last breath, so that’s what he’d do.

  As they walked outside to the waiting Hummer, Connor randomly wondered if Squeezer was still alive. He may be just a snake, but he’d helped him through a tough time. Shaking his head, he climbed into the passenger seat. It didn’t matter now.

  “Nothin’?” Tank asked.

  “Nope,” James said.

  “Damn Reclaimers,” Tank said. “Those bastards got to it before us. They probably scavenged everything for miles.”

  “We’re just wasting time,” Connor said.

  “I know,” James said. “Maybe we should turn ourselves over.”

  “You know it won’t do a damn bit ‘a good,” Tank said.

  “I know,” James said. “But maybe there’s a chance—”

  “What chance?” Connor asked, cutting him off. “That the psychopath who’s randomly killing everybody will suddenly decide to be lenient? What kind of fantasy world are you living in? They’ll kill us and the rest of our group.”

  “Then what do we do?” James asked, throwing his hands up.

  “Simple,” Tank said, “we fight till we can’t fight no more.”

  “Why are you so adamant about helping them?” Chloe asked Tank and then looked at Connor and James. “I’m not saying we should leave them, but we barely know them.”

  Tank shrugged. “At this point, we’ve all killed people. The only thing that’s separating us from them, from being murderers, is that we kill to protect. If we leave them, are we really any better than the bad guys? What has all our killing and surviving been for if we leave their friends to die?”

  Everyone was silent. Were they any different from those people, like Tank said? What made them any better? Did they really kill to protect, or just to survive? Who got to decide who lived and died anyway? Did they even have a say in the matter, or were they all just pieces on a board, moved against their will?

  Oh, stop it! Connor thought.

  “We should get movin’,” Connor said.

  “Right,” Tank said, “where to now? We can’t do much scouting in the dark.”

  “I guess we continue to look until just before the sun comes up,” James said. “There are all those subdivisions closer to town.”

  “That sounds extremely dangerous,” Chloe said. “You sure you guys need more ammunition and guns?”

  “Yeah,” James said, “we both have less than three magazines for our ARs and the handguns won’t do much good if it turns into an all-out gunfight.”

  “Closer to town it is, then,” Tank said, turning the Hummer around and heading back the way they’d come.

  “We need to be ready to get out quick,” James said.

  “I’ll be ready,” Tank said. “I hate not being able to go in with you guys, but for now I think it’s better that I stay out here in case you guys need to catch a ride quickly.”

  Tank drove them back to US-14 and headed toward Sheridan. In less than a mile, they’d arrived at the first road leading south. With the half-moon lighting the darkness, they could make out the shapes of houses in the night.

  “This is it,” James said.

  “We either find some weapons in these houses,” Connor said, “or we go in as is. In a couple of hours, the sun will be up and so will our time.”

  Tank pulled to a stop at the first house and Connor jumped out, sweeping the darkness with the flashlight attached to his handgun. The beam had dimmed since they’d started searching a few hours earlier. He would need to change the batteries soon.

  James climbed out of the backseat, wincing as his feet hit the ground.

  His side must be bothering him still, Connor thought.

  They’d need to change their bandages when they had some downtime, if they ever had any downtime. Looking at his brother, he could see James setting his jaw. The fight hadn’t left him yet. No, his brother was far from giving up, and Connor felt bad for thinking James was breaking. He’d been knocked down and was trying to stand up again. Connor just needed to offer him a helping hand.

  “You ready, brother?” Connor asked.

  James looked him in the eyes. “Let’s do it.”

  ~~~

  “I really wish we still had Google,” Chloe said. “Then, we could just find the nearest gun store and go there.”

  Tank chuckled. “If only it were that easy.”

  He looked down at his watch.

  C’mon guys, Tank thought, where the hell are you?

  “You think something’s wrong?” Chloe asked. “They’ve been in there awhile.”

  “Thirty minutes isn’t that long,” Tank said, trying to mask his own concern. “They could’ve found something. Or the house has a basement.”

  “You think we should help?”

  “That’s not the plan. If th
ey came out a different way and we missed ’em, it could lead to disaster. And we’re missing the firepower they have with those rifles. All I have is my handgun.”

  “Oh, I didn’t think about that.”

  “And maybe they went ahead to the next house.”

  Chloe nodded.

  He wished he believed that. The fact was, he was a lot more worried than he’d let on. They should’ve been back long before now. It didn’t take that long to check a small house like the one they were in. Tank hadn’t heard a gunshot or seen the flashlight beams going outside. They could’ve slipped out, but why? He’d turned the Hummer off awhile ago and now they sat in complete darkness. With his eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight outside, he could see just enough to make out shapes and movement in the darkness. But it was also dark enough that sometimes that movement was more in his mind than outside.

  Something smacked against the back window and Chloe screamed. Tank pulled out his handgun, pointing it at the window. There was a face beyond the glass. He recognized it. Turning the key on enough to get power but without turning on the headlights or dome lights, he rolled the window down.

  “Son of a bitch!” Tank exclaimed. “I almost shot you.”

  “Sorry about that,” James said, smiling ruefully as he came around to Tank’s window. “Can you unlock the back? We need to load some guns.”

  “You found some?” Chloe asked, still trying to calm her breathing.

  “Yeah, a whole closet full! Three rifles, two shotguns, and four handguns, along with a few hundred rounds of ammo for each.”

  “Nice,” Tank said, pressing the door lock, “Rear door’s unlocked.”

  “Thanks, bro,” James said as he disappeared around the back of the Hummer.

  Tank holstered his handgun, flipping the safety back on. He could just make out Connor in the darkness behind James, hauling a couple of boxes. So they’d found some guns. Good. Maybe they would stand a fighting chance after all.

  After another trip inside, the brothers climbed back into the Hummer.

  “Next house,” James said, pointing down the street.

  “I ain’t your damn chauffeur!” Tank said.

  “But you are good, sir,” James said.

  “Don’t make me punch you,” Tank said.

  “Why’d you guys have your flashlights off back there?” Chloe asked.

  “A couple of zombies were fenced inside the backyard,” James said. “Didn’t want to have them get all frenzied with the lights.”

  “That,” Connor said, “and the batteries in James’s light died.”

  “And that,” James said, confirming Connor’s comment. “We should be able to find a few AAs in the next house. Tank, you have a light I can borrow?”

  “Sure,” Tank said, pulling to a stop in front of the next house. “But you can’t use it.”

  “What?”

  “Nope, not without knowing the password.”

  “Password?” James asked. “Is it ‘Tank rules’?”

  “Nope.”

  “’Tank is a badass’?”

  “Nope.”

  “Just give him the damn light,” Connor said.

  “He has to earn the light,” Tank said.

  “’Tank sucks,’” James said.

  “You’re not even close.”

  “Boys, you realize we’re in a hurry, right?” Chloe asked.

  Tank looked at James. He wasn’t even close. It would take him all night to figure it out.

  “Lil’ Jamesy Boy,” Tank said, opening up his glove box. “That is the password.”

  “Dude, c’mon,” James said, taking the flashlight.

  “What?” Tank asked, smiling. “Makes a damn good password.”

  “You suck,” James said, smiling slightly.

  He climbed out of the Hummer and Connor followed, shaking his head.

  “We’ll be back in a few,” Connor said.

  “Don’t get lost like last time,” Tank said.

  Connor shut the door and the brothers moved off into the darkness. James swung his AR to his side and drew his tomahawk to use with the flashlight Tank had given him. Connor was right next to him, handgun ready. They arrived at the front door and posted up. A nod and they were breaching the house, their lights disappearing inside.

  “Just when I begin to think you’re not a child, you prove me wrong,” Chloe said, shaking her head.

  “What?” Tank asked. “The password thing?”

  “Of course,” Chloe said. “We only have a couple hours left before the Reclaimers kill someone, and here you are making James have to guess a password to give him a flashlight so he doesn’t get killed in the dark.”

  “I’m just an asshole.”

  “I don’t think that’s true. An asshole wouldn’t be willing to sacrifice himself to save people he doesn’t even know. He wouldn’t be a hundred percent loyal to his friends. And he wouldn’t be cracking jokes to lighten the mood when his friends are having a tough time. I’ve known plenty of them, and I don’t think you’re one.”

  “Maybe I’m just an asshole that cares.”

  “Yeah, or maybe you pretend to be one to cover up who you truly are.”

  “Where the hell is this comin’ from?” Tank asked, glancing back at her. Her brunette hair was pulled into a bun and her pouty lips didn’t look half bad when she wasn’t scowling. Actually, she was kind of hot when he wasn’t being a total beeyotch. “I thought you hated me? Called me a dick, asshole, pig… Am I missing anything?”

  “I thought you were,” Chloe said, “but I talked to James. He said I was wrong about you.”

  “That little—” Tank said, “I wouldn’t trust anything he says.”

  “It got me thinking. Maybe I should give you another chance.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you, honey. I am an asshole. I just happen to have some good friends.”

  “There’s more to you. I can see that now.”

  “Well, you just got me all figured out now, don’t ya?”

  “I’m pretty good at reading people.”

  “Well, think what you will. I stand by it.”

  “That’s fine. I know better.”

  “Whatever,” Tank said.

  How much truth was there to that? He didn’t hate people as much as he put on, but he didn’t really like them either. And he did care more than he showed, but he didn’t care that much. At least, he didn’t think he did. There were those he did care about, and for them he’d take on the entire world. Others? Nah. But maybe he did care more than he realized. That was scary to admit. Letting people get close usually just ended in pain. He’d learned a long time ago, after his parents’ divorce, that it was a lot easier to keep people at a distance. It was the people he let get close that hurt him the most.

  The brothers returned a few minutes later, having found a little bit of food and some batteries. They stashed the food in the back. James and Connor installed the new batteries in their flashlights, then James handed Tank’s light back. They moved on to the next house and repeated the process. As the night turned into early morning, they searched on, trying desperately to find something that would turn the tide. They acquired another gun and a little more ammunition, but they still didn’t know if it would be enough. It wasn’t firepower they were lacking now, it was manpower. They were only three versus the Reclaimers’—what, three dozen? Four dozen?

  As the hours passed, Tank began to realize something: They couldn’t win this fight and they all knew it. They searched anyway. Moving from house to house, they checked the whole subdivision. After the last stop, James and Connor climbed into the Hummer, a somber mood hanging in the air.

  “That’s it,” James said. “We’ve done everything we can.”

  “Do you think you’re prepared?” Chloe asked.

  “No,” Connor said, “but it’s the best we can do.”

  “Isn’t it a little weird that we haven’t seen a singl
e undead?” Tank asked.

  “I was just thinking about that a few houses ago,” James said.

  “The Reclaimers must’ve cleared them out,” Connor said. “Either that or something drew them into town.”

  “You mean like a gas station exploding?” Tank asked, smiling.

  “Yeah, that probably did it,” James said.

  “It’ll be light soon,” Connor said.

  “We better head towards the Reclaimers and scout it out,” James said.

  “Time to go,” Tank said, pulling the Hummer back out onto US-14. The headlights shone in the darkness as light began to peek over the horizon.

  5

  A New Hope

  Post-outbreak day seven, morning

  Alexis heard a gunshot echo outside the barn and closed her eyes. Tears wet her cheeks. They’d taken Ana and then Mila. Jezz was going to kill them both—had already killed one. Who would be next? Her? Where were her dad and the children? Where were James and Connor? She was worried about them, especially James. The peace she’d felt the night before had shattered the instant Jezz had walked into the barn that morning. Her whole demeanor had changed, like she was a predator searching for prey. Gone was the friendly woman who’d first talked to Alexis.

  She waited for the second gunshot, but it never came. Why had there only been one? Her mind summoned images of all the things Jezz could be doing to torture them, but there was nothing she could do about it. She would be next. A sob escaped her.

  She was trying to be strong, but everything seemed so hopeless. Her last friend in this world was dead, her dad was missing—probably dead, too—James and Connor were lost, and she was captive to an insane person, again. When her dad had saved her from her mother’s house at the start of all this, she’d thought the worst thing they were going to face were the infected. That was far from the truth. The people they kept running into—they were worse. They were the ones who would end up killing them. She began to panic. How were they going to get out of this?

  Remember last night, said a small voice in the back of her mind.

  Last night. When she’d come to the end of her wits, she’d prayed. And God had answered her, then and there. She’d heard Him speak to her. Well, she’d heard a voice in her head, which could mean she was going insane, joining the rest of the people in this messed-up world. But the peace she’d felt in the midst of everything—how did she explain that? She’d chosen to believe then. Did she still believe, now? It’d only been one night, but everything had changed since then. She’d lost so much; could she bear to lose more? What did she have to lose now if her dad and Ana were both dead? She had her own life, the lives of the children, and everyone else in the barn. Maybe when Jezz came back she could convince her to let them all go.