The Brother's Creed_Book 3_Wolf Pack Page 6

  Alexis narrowed her eyes at Ana. She hadn’t… had she? The guards had taken Ana and Mila from the barn. Now, Jezz was giving them the choice to kill one of their own to save their own life. Ana was here. Mila was not. Did that mean Ana had killed her? Who could enter into a bargain like that? It would be like trading one’s soul to live for a few more days. But was killing to protect any different?

  “I will,” said Evan, the man with the tattered t-shirt who’d lost his family.

  Evan? He didn’t seem like that kind of man. Then again, he was full of pain, but Alexis still had a hard time believing he would kill one of his friends to save his own life. He’d lived in Burns for years and knew all these people, except her. Evan glanced over at her and then quickly away.

  Oh, no.

  “Marvelous,” Jezz said.

  She motioned forward a guard who’d appeared at her side, the same man who’d taken Ana and Mila. What was his name again? Max? He walked over to Evan and unchained him. Hauling Evan to his feet, Max prodded him forward, but Evan took one shaky step and fell to the ground.

  “My legs are numb,” Evan said.

  “Give him a few minutes, Max,” Jezz said. “Let the full implication sink in. I only want those who truly mean what they say, not weaklings afraid to die.”

  Max grunted in response.

  Evan lay on his side, legs fully extended. His eyes were closed and he looked pained, but whether that was from the ache of regaining the feeling in his legs or the fact that he was about kill someone, she didn’t know. She was no longer sure she wanted to die to save them if they were just going to kill each other off, one by one.

  More than likely he’d choose her. She was the stranger here, the outcast in their little group. The rest of these people had years’ worth of history together, and she only had a couple of days. He’d pick her; she would be the first to go. Surprisingly, she didn’t resent that. The peace hadn’t left her, even though she didn’t know what to think or believe.

  Alexis looked over at Ana, hoping she would at least glance at her, but she wouldn’t. Alexis wondered what had happened to her and whether she’d really killed Mila. She thought she knew Ana but they’d only known each other for a week. Did she really know her? The fact was, she didn’t. She didn’t know anything about her past, besides the fact that her father was a mobster. Nothing except that one fact. Now that she thought about it, she realized for the first time that Ana had avoided talking about her past. In all their days together on the road, all their downtime, and all their talks, she didn’t know anything more about Ana than what she’d learned that first night in Safe Haven.

  That isn’t the truth, Alexis thought, I know who Ana is, just not who she was.

  Ana was a loyal friend, someone who was capable, determined, and strong. She was a survivor. And then the pieces clicked into place for Alexis. Ana would survive. No matter what she faced, she would do what needed to be done to live. She would survive.

  “You killed her,” Alexis stated more than asked, looking directly at Ana.

  This time Ana did look at her. Her face may have been impassive, but her eyes were anything but. Alexis could almost feel the anger and the regret, but most of all, the determination. She was a survivor. If given a choice to sacrifice a life to save her own, she would do it. Anger rose inside Alexis. How could she kill Mila just to save her own skin? The mere thought turned her stomach. Alexis could never do that; there was no way. However, Ana could and here she was, alive, with her hands covered in the blood of the innocent.

  “How could you?” Alexis asked, as she stared into those green eyes.

  “I did what I did to survive,” Ana said, some of the anger coming out in her voice. “Just like you will, if you’re smart.”

  “I’ll never kill an innocent person to save myself,” Alexis spat, fury rising within her. A small part of her brain told her she was overreacting, but that just made her even angrier.

  “Then you will die here,” Jezz said.

  Alexis flinched. Jezz was leaning down, her face a few inches from Alexis. While staring at Ana, she hadn’t even seen the woman move. Jezz smiled, showing that menacing grin again and Alexis instinctually shied away, the hairs rising on her arms and neck. Her instincts told her this woman was deadly, more deadly than anyone else in the room. It was like being chained up with a lion prowling around her, licking its chops. Actually, that probably would have been less frightening. A lion could be predicted.

  “It is time,” Jezz said, straightening up. “Get up and kill or you will die.”

  “Wait,” Evan said, looking up at her. “That wasn’t the deal.”

  “That was always the ‘deal.’ Kill or you die.”

  Evan glanced at Alexis again, his eyes pleading. He’d changed his mind. In the heat of the moment, he’d wanted the chance to live, but now that he’d had time to think about it, he wasn’t sure if he could do it. But he no longer had a choice. Alexis nodded to him.

  “No,” Evan said, “I can’t.”

  Jezz pointed toward him and Ana tore her gaze away from Alexis. Ana hesitated and Jezz glared over at her.

  “Are you with me or not?” Jezz asked in a low, threatening voice.

  Ana fingered something at her neck, looking Jezz directly in the eyes. They stared at each other for a moment and then Ana moved. Walking over to Evan, she raised the handgun, pointing it directly at his head.

  “The choice,” Jezz said, “One last chance. Live or die.”

  Evan looked into the muzzle of the handgun and shivered.

  “Okay!” he blurted out. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  He stood up with difficulty. Once he was on his feet, he glanced around the room. The looks people gave him ranged from fear to horror, anger to betrayal. He visibly withered under their gazes. He wasn’t a murderer. Jezz walked over to him, handing him a long-bladed knife.

  “Now, pick anyone you want,” Jezz said, spreading her hands around the room, “and cut their throat.”

  “What?” Evan asked, blanching. “I thought… I thought you said I could just shoot them.”

  “I changed my mind. Prove to me that you have what I am looking for. If you cannot cut the throat of your friends, how can I trust you?” Jezz said, eyeing Evan like a bird of prey.

  Evan was shaking now, the knife blade vibrating in his hand. Without looking at her, he walked toward Alexis with leaden steps. Could he really do it? If he killed her, he’d live, and her life would have meaning. She would have—unwillingly—given it to save someone. She didn’t want to die, but she did want to make a difference.

  Not in this way, she thought. I want to save someone’s life, not condemn them to the life of a murderer.

  She watched Evan as he drew closer, his steps taking longer and longer until, finally, he stood in front of her. The knife blade reflected the fading light from the open door, leading outside. The sun was setting. It’d been a whole day and yet neither her dad nor James and Connor had shown up. Were they all dead? Evan raised the knife, staring at the gleaming surface of the blade. It’d been honed to a razor-sharp edge and would cut through the soft flesh of a throat with ease. Alexis could almost feel the blade sliding across her throat. She shuddered. This was not what she wanted.

  “I can’t,” Even croaked, dropping the blade to the dirt as a sob escaped his throat.

  Alexis stared up into his eyes, showing her appreciation. She didn’t want to die like this. A small smile spread on his lips as he looked down at her.

  “Too bad,” Jezz said, nodding.

  Ana pulled the trigger and a deafening thunderclap filled the barn. The bullet smashed into the side of Evan’s head, blowing a portion of his face off. Chunks of flesh, bone, and brains filled the air. Alexis had never seen anything so horrible in all her life. Blood splattered on her as Evan’s body collapsed to the ground and she screamed. There was no other rational response to what she’d witnessed, and she knew she’d never get that
image out of her mind. With speckles of blood on her face and the front of her shirt, she locked gazes with Ana.

  “You’re a monster,” Alexis said, tears gathering in her eyes. “How did I ever consider you my sister? You’ve taken two innocent lives!”

  Ana looked her square in the face, a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve killed more than that.”

  8

  The Cuckoo’s Nest

  Post-outbreak day seven, morning

  “Well, this blows,” Tank said.

  “Ya think?” Connor said. “This has been one goat-rope right after another since the very beginning.”

  “They’ve killed someone by now,” James said in a hushed voice.

  “We’ve got more pressing matters,” Connor said.

  “But—” James began.

  “We’re prisoners and probably gonna be dead soon,” Connor said. “We can worry about the others if we survive.”

  “You’re right,” James said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “We need to get out of here and then worry about the others.”

  Good, Connor thought, he’s still fighting.

  Connor looked around. They were all seated, handcuffed and chained to the brush guard on the front of the Hummer, arms level with their heads. James was towards the driver’s side, Connor was next to him, and then Tank and Chloe were towards the passenger side. The man had held James hostage while Connor had been forced to handcuff Tank and Chloe. Next, Connor had cuffed himself, and then the guy had chained up James. He was now taking all their guns and gear from the back of the Hummer and setting them down on the ground a few yards away, all the while talking to himself. The only good news was that he’d spared them instead of killing them.

  “None of ours… nope…” the man said as he stood over the pile of their gear.

  “You lookin’ for somethin’?” Tank asked.

  The man’s head snapped up. “What?”

  “I said, are you looking for something?”

  “Yes, missing gear, guns, people,” the man said and he glanced to his right. “We’ve recovered most, but we’re still missing some.”

  “That’s all the gear we have,” Connor said.

  “We see that,” the man said.

  Tank looked at Connor, mouthing, “We?” Connor just shrugged. The man was probably crazy, which would fit with how everything else was going.

  “What’s your name?” Chloe asked, and the man looked over at her. “I’m Chloe.”

  “Bryce,” the man said, turning and walking away from them.

  “Where the hell are you goin’?” Tank asked.

  “We need to think,” Bryce said.

  “Just let us go. We’ll leave and never come back!” James shouted at him. “People are going to die if you keep us here.”

  “We don’t care,” Bryce said, walking into the last pavilion.

  “Let us go!” James yelled as Bryce disappeared inside.

  “What do we do now?” Chloe asked.

  “Try and find a way to get loose,” James said. “Any ideas?”

  “Well, if we had a saw we could cut through the chains, or our hand if we had to,” Tank said.

  “Yeah, and how well did that work for Merle?” Chloe asked.

  “You watched The Walking Dead?” Tank asked.

  “Of course,” Chloe said. “I thought it was an interesting concept… though I don’t like it so much anymore.”

  Tanked laughed. “It’s all a little too real now, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah,” Chloe said, “just a little.”

  “C’mon, guys,” James said. “We need to find a way out.”

  “James,” Connor said, “you need to be prepared to face the reality that we might be here for a while.”

  “Then that leaves us with convincing Bryce to let us go,” James said.

  “You really think he’s going to just do that?” Connor asked.

  James shrugged. “Only one way to find out,” he said, then shouted. “Hey, Bryce!”

  After a few moments, Bryce poked his head out of the pavilion. “What do you want?”

  “I have to pee,” James said.

  “Pee?” Bryce said. “We just chained you up.”

  “I know, but I had to go before—”

  “We don’t care,” Bryce said, interrupting him.

  “Then will you at least let me tell you why we’re here?” James said, growing more desperate.

  “Once again, we don’t care. Just leave us alone so we can figure out what we’re going to do with you,” he said and went back into the pavilion, mumbling to himself.

  “Pee?” Tank asked. “What are you? A twelve-year-old girl?”

  “Shut up,” James said, “I just wanted to see if it worked.”

  “Well, maybe if you’d talked like a man and said you had to piss, he might’ve let you go,” Tank said.

  “Will you just shut up and let me think?”

  “Fine. When you come up with your master plan, let us know will ya, because I’ll have to tinkle soon,” Tank said.

  Connor chuckled. “Leave him alone. We really should be trying to think of something.”

  “I know,” Tank said. “I already went through all our options, and our best bet is to catch Bryce off guard and overpower him, maybe find a way to lure him over here and then somehow take him down.”

  “With all our hands chained?” Chloe asked.

  “It still needs work, but that’s the best option we have,” Tank said.

  “It could work,” James said, “and once we get loose, there’s a bunch of guns and other gear in that last pavilion.”

  “Really?” Tank asked.

  “Yeah, over a dozen high-tech-looking combat rifles, plate carriers, helmets with NVGs, the works.”

  “Damn,” Connor said. “Wish we could get that.”

  “Yeah,” James said.

  “How about we…” Chloe started but then trailed off.

  “Yes?” Tank asked.

  “I lost it,” she said, “but it would’ve been a good one.”

  “I got it!” Tank exclaimed. “Chloe, you can take your shirt off and seduce him.”

  “You are such a—” Chloe said, kicking at Tank.

  “Whoa, whoa!” Tank said, trying to get out of her reach. “I meant it as a compliment!”

  Connor couldn’t help himself; he laughed a little. The situation was just too comical. James joined in after a bit as Chloe continued to try to kick Tank, but her legs were just a little too short.

  They were chained up and the Reclaimers had killed one of their friends, but they were chained up together and they were still alive. That was always a good thing, although if they could go just a few hours without something going wrong, it would be a new record. Connor was beginning to realize that wasn’t possible anymore.

  ~~~

  The sun beat down on them, burning their skin. It had to be over ninety degrees in the sun. James glanced up as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and he licked his lips, tasting salt. It was the middle of the afternoon now. The Reclaimers would be killing someone else in a few hours. His mind flashed to an image of Alexis standing in all her tactical gear, ready to kick some zombie ass with her long brunette hair pulled into a ponytail, her blue eyes sparkling in the light, and a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. His heart ached and he chided himself for those feelings. If she was executed, he’d never forgive himself. He renewed his efforts to think of a plan to escape. Over the course of the morning, they’d tried to get Bryce to come out of the pavilion with a myriad of prompts—pleading for help, to talk, to barter, threats—everything they could think of, but he hadn’t so much as responded to any of them, so they’d given up on that.

  Now, they sat, baking in the hot sun, wishing for just a hint of cloud cover to relieve them. James wished he’d put sunscreen on that morning. His face and arms would be burnt to a crisp by tonight, if they lived th
at long. His ear had begun to itch horribly, but he had to be careful with how sensitive it was. Also, his side ached and it felt like the blood had dried, sticking the bandage to the gash. Why did he always have to be the one who got shot? Connor had only been grazed and not even that bad. He wondered how they always seemed to find themselves in these kinds of situations, or better yet, how they were going to get out of this one. Were they even going to get out of this?

  James cursed under his breath as the guilt and regret at helping the group leave Burns rose to the forefront of his mind, and he had to work hard not to let it overwhelm him. Whenever he thought about how he should’ve left them there, he thought of little Olive. She would never have left the school alive. More than likely, none of them would have. If that zombie horde had made it into the school, it would have been a mass slaughter, and he’d been able to help save some of them from that. But now, if he didn’t make it to the Reclaimers’ hideout, people would die as a direct result of his actions.

  Help us, Lord, James prayed. I’m at the end of my rope. We have people counting on us, and yet, we’re stuck here. I surrender this to you. Take control. I trust you…

  The last few lines had been the hardest to say. Even though he was chained to the front of a Hummer with the hot summer sun beating down on him, having tried everything he could think of to escape, it was still extremely difficult for James to release control. This had to be his biggest flaw—the weakness that would get him killed. He felt like he needed to be in control, but he knew that thought was ridiculous. He needed to? He was just barely an adult in age and sure as hell not in attitude, yet he thought he knew better than everyone else around him. Well, not everyone, but most. Regardless, if he could handle a situation better, he still felt like he had to be in control.

  It was the reason people hadn’t liked him in school. He strove to be the best, but even when he wasn’t, he’d give his input whether it was asked for or not. And he’d always felt the need to correct people when they were wrong, which had even caused him and Tank to get into a bunch of arguments. They’d spent almost one whole semester not talking because of a huge disagreement brought on by this very stubbornness. Well, that and there may have been a girl involved. The point was, he was nosey and needed to be in control.