The Brother's Creed_Book 3_Wolf Pack Read online

  “Well, I feel a lot more alive,” James said. “There for a little bit, I thought I was going to turn into a zombie just from lack of water.”

  “At least we can spend the night in relative comfort,” Tank said. “Although you know what this means.”

  “What?” Chloe asked.

  “Now that we’ve had somethin’ to drink, we’ll have to piss soon,” Tank said. “But I’m not goin’ to ask Elliot if I can tinkle!”

  “You still goin’ on about that?” James asked. “I didn’t say ‘tinkle.’ I said ‘pee.’ Plenty of adults say pee. Right, bro?”

  “I’m not getting in the middle of this one,” Connor said. “I’m already in between you two—literally.”

  “Just admit it, Jamesy Boy,” Tank said. “You need to go tinkle.”

  “Whatever,” James said with a laugh, shaking his head. “That little interaction with Bryce showed us some key things on how to take him down.”

  “First,” Tank said, “he’s batshit crazy and has an imaginary dragon named Elliot.”

  “We don’t know yet if it’s a dragon,” James said, chuckling.

  “True,” Tank said. “His imaginary unknown entity.”

  “Second,” Connor said, “he doesn’t trust us.”

  “But Elliot trusts Chloe and Bryce likes her,” Tank said with a wink. “I mean, did you hear that comment about her makin’ a good mom? That’s weird, even comin’ from a crazy person.”

  “Why a wink?” Chloe asked.

  “What wink?” Tank asked.

  “That wink, just now,” Chloe said.

  Tank shrugged. “Sometimes I think I have Tourette’s.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” Chloe said.

  “No, he really does,” James said.

  “You know,” Chloe said, “I’ve seen how you all act when you’re apart and you actually seem your age. But when you get together, you act like three little boys in middle school.”

  They all looked at each other and shrugged.

  “Yeah, pretty much,” Tank said.

  “Now, back to the plan,” James said. “We find a reason to get him over here, then, Chloe, you lay some moves on him and we somehow take him down.”

  “‘Somehow take him down?’” Tank asked. “I can feel the confidence in your plan oozing from just that comment.”

  “It needs a little work,” James admitted. “I’m just not sure how to take him down.”

  “Yeah,” Connor said. “We need to work on that.”

  They settled in, finding a halfway comfortable position. James hadn’t realized it when he thought he was dying of thirst, but he was very uncomfortable. He never imagined he’d spend a night handcuffed to the front of a vehicle. He gazed at the sky, watching as the stars started to appear and the night deepened around them. Shifting, he was able to mostly wrap the blanket around himself, which helped cut the chill considerably. It would be a cold, uncomfortable night. Not the worst he’d ever had, but it would be close.

  Closing his eyes, he began to remember the one night that had been much worse. He’d been guiding a client on a sheep hunt in Alaska and a black bear had come into camp when they were out hunting, demolishing their tents and eating their entire food supply. They’d had to spread the pieces of their tents over some branches and sleep underneath. Of course, as soon as they settled in, the rain had started to pour. James and his client had stayed mostly dry that night, fully bundled in all their clothes and raingear, but it’d still been a miserable night. Even before the apocalypse, he’d been in some hairy situations on hunting trips up in the mountains, but he’d survived all that and he’d survive this, too. Although this did take the cake for his most brutal survival experience yet. Trying to stay alive in the mountains was a lot easier than trying to stay alive with zombies and murderers at every turn.

  His mind drifted to Alaska. How he missed those mountains. It would be the best day of his life when they finally reached the small bush airport where they could fly out to the lodge. It would take a few trips to get everyone into camp, depending on the size of the plane available. The lodge would have a lot of what they needed, but they’d initially spend a few days gathering as many supplies as they could. Then every week or so, they’d fly out and restock. They’d be able to have a life out there, away from all this. With the mountain ranges, rivers, bogs, and lakes to cross, there would be no way the zombies could get to them. The pucker brush alone would be enough to tangle their feet and trip them up. Very few people had ever hiked out to their lodge, and those who did were hardcore backpackers. The only reasonable way in was a bush plane or a two-day horseback ride.

  Maybe they could find some horses and ride them out there. That would be a huge asset when it came to hunting and packing out their meat—especially moose since they weighed three-quarters of a ton. The gravel airstrip at the lodge was long enough that they could get a bigger plane in, if his brother could fly it. Maybe along the way, they could find another pilot. Then they could stockpile a bunch of planes out there and in the surrounding towns. Or maybe Connor could teach him how to fly, or even Tank. Tank would be good at flying—a little scary maybe, but good.

  They could even build a wall and more cabins. There was a chainsaw mill already out there and they could bring more tools. There were endless possibilities. In the future, it could even become a settlement, a beacon of hope in the midst of the apocalypse. Last Hope—that’s what they’d call it. If they did go that route, they’d have to set up a government, police force, schools, and all that. Finding enough people would take time, but it was doable. The hardest part would be the screening process so they didn’t let psychos and murderers in. But at that point, they would have enough people for a police force and military. They would need strict laws—not oppressive laws but reasonable ones for the time. They could truly make a new life for themselves and others. It would be the start of something new, something beautiful. Life would continue, and humanity would survive.

  Wrapped in the green wool blanket, James drifted off to sleep amid his pleasant dreams of what the future might hold.

  11

  Jackpot

  Post-outbreak day seven, late night

  James woke up to screaming.

  Not again!

  He tried to grab his gun. Except he didn’t have a gun, didn’t even have a knife, and he was handcuffed to the front of a Hummer. Night had fully settled over the land, and he could just make out the others’ silhouettes in the dim light of the half moon. The scream sounded again right next to him. It was high-pitched and feminine.

  “Chloe, what’s wrong?” Tank asked, sounding frantic.

  “Help!” Chloe screamed. “Help me!”

  James must’ve been in a deep sleep because he was finding it hard to gather his thoughts. If a zombie had ahold of Chloe, they were going to be next and they had no way of defending themselves. They would be dead. Bryce ran out of the pavilion, combat rifle aimed ahead and tactical light slicing through the darkness. James still didn’t know what kind of rifle he had. It looked similar to an M16, but more sleek and sexy.

  Why am I thinking about the rifle right now?

  “Chloe!” Tank said, sounding concerned.

  The emotion surprised James. When was the last time he’d truly seen Tank concerned? It wasn’t that he never felt concern or fear—or anything—he just never showed it. But he was showing it now and James was shocked. It was actually the most shocking part of the whole scene. Tank, concerned?

  The light from Bryce’s rifle landed on them, illuminating the scene. Chloe was doing her best to back away from the darkness on the other side of the Hummer. She was breathing heavily and whimpering occasionally, her eyes wide.

  “Chloe,” James said. “What’s going on?”

  “What the hell is it?” Tank asked.

  Bryce arrived, looking them over before his gaze settled on Chloe. Concern flashed in his eyes.

  “What happene
d?” Bryce asked Chloe.

  Chloe tried to speak but couldn’t get any words out. She was shaking now and beginning to cry. She tried to speak again, but ended up choking out a sob.

  “Dude,” Tank said. “What the hell?”

  “What happened?” Bryce asked again, addressing them.

  “I have no idea,” James said. “I was asleep when she started screaming.”

  Connor stared at her, a confused and calculating look on his face. “Maybe she thought she saw something in the darkness.”

  “She’s been through a lot,” Tank said, “but I’ve never seen her like this.”

  She glanced up at Bryce, tears in her eyes. They left streaks on her face and she seemed completely unhinged. Bryce walked around them and went over to kneel down by her. He raised his hand, acting like he wanted to wipe her tears away. Stopping himself, he looked to his right.

  “Elliot says we should take you back to our room,” Bryce said. “It’s safe there.”

  Chloe nodded sheepishly, like a little girl who’d had a nightmare and ran into her parents’ bedroom. Bryce smiled, getting out the keys and taking her handcuffs off. When she was free, she embraced him in a tight hug. He looked momentarily taken aback, glancing over to his right again. Then he nodded.

  “You’ll be safe with us,” Bryce said as Chloe separated from him.

  She smiled tentatively as Bryce turned and led her to his pavilion. The whole way there he scanned the darkness, looking for any sign of a threat while Chloe stayed right behind him with her hand on his shoulder. They disappeared into the white flaps of the tent and light emanated from inside.

  “What the hell just happened?” Tank asked.

  “I have no idea,” James said.

  “A wolf in sheep’s clothing,” Connor whispered.

  “What?” James asked.

  “The Trojan horse,” Connor said.

  “Ya think?” Tank asked.

  “That was a pretty convincing act if that’s what she was doing,” James said.

  “Yeah,” Tank said. “It scared the shit outta me.”

  “I’m telling you,” Connor said, “she was faking it.”

  “I don’t know,” James said. “If so, what’s she gonna do now?”

  “What’s necessary, hopefully,” Connor said.

  “Has she killed anyone that you know of?” James asked Tank.

  “No, I haven’t even seen her kill an undead yet,” Tank said. “In fact, I’d put money down she hasn’t.”

  “She did act surprisingly calm when helping Mike,” James said. “But I don’t know if she has it in her.”

  “We’ll find out,” Connor said.

  “If she isn’t faking, we’d better be ready to try something,” James said. “I don’t want to be chained up like some free Happy Meal for one of these zombies.”

  “Me neither,” Tank said. “I hate being a sittin’ chicken.”

  “I get the chicken part now,” James said. “Our hands are cuffed and chickens can’t fly.”

  “I knew you’d come around,” Tank said.

  The light in the tent went out, plunging their world into darkness again. James’s mind began to play tricks on him and he could see moving shapes in the darkness around them. Closing his eyes, he took a few deep breaths, banishing the thoughts.

  Had Chloe really been putting on an act? How could a person stage-cry like that? The fear in her eyes had looked real. Maybe she was a good actress. Even if she was, what would she do now? Kill Bryce? Handcuff him? There was no way she was going to overpower him. She was half his size. He continued trying to piece together whether it was possible, but he knew he was doing it to avoid the other questions his mind wanted to ask: If she hadn’t been faking, what had she seen to make her freak out like that? What was out there with them?

  “Guys,” James finally said after a few minutes, “I don’t think I can sleep now. I’m too… wired.”

  “Me too,” Tank said.

  “You guys are just—”

  A gunshot cut off what Connor had been about to say.

  James snapped his head to look over at the pavilion Bryce and Chloe had disappeared into. Another gunshot sounded, and this time James could see the muzzle flash from inside.

  “Oh, shit!” Tank said.

  “Did he just…” James began to ask but trailed off.

  Chloe came running out of the tent, flashlight in one hand, handgun in the other. When she got to them, she dropped to her knees by Connor, the closest one to her. She set the handgun down and reached into her pocket, pulling out the handcuff keys. After he was free, Connor immediately picked up the handgun and aimed it in the direction of the pavilion as she moved to James and un-cuffed him, then Tank. She didn’t start shaking until they were all free, and the tears began shortly after. Tank hesitated only a second and then stepped up, pulling her into his arms. She dissolved into tears.

  “I didn’t want… but he… I’ve never…” she choked out between sobs.

  “Shhh,” Tank said, stroking her hair. “It’s okay. You did what you had to.”

  James went a few yards and grabbed his AR from the pile of their gear Bryce had left. Odd, he’d never even seemed interested in it once he’d learned it wasn’t “his.” James checked the magazine. It was full and he racked a round into the chamber. Aiming his AR at the far pavilion, he switched his tactical light on. He didn’t know if Chloe had finished Bryce off or not, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. Still aiming forward, he reached down and picked up his brother’s AR, then stood up and brought it to him.

  “Tank,” Connor said, offering Tank the handgun, “get her into the Hummer and wait for our signal, then pull over to the pavilion.”

  “Got it,” Tank said, leading Chloe around to the passenger’s seat.

  James grabbed their tactical vests from the ground and they slipped them on, all the contents still intact. He picked up the rest of their gear from the ground and tossed it into the back seat.

  “Let’s go,” James said, as Connor took point.

  Twin beams of light swept through the darkness in rotating intervals as they approached the pavilion. James went around to the entrance while Connor went to the hole cut in the side. They burst into the tent, lights sweeping the interior. The main room was clear. The curtain that sectioned off the small room was ripped open and inside laid Bryce, blood dripping through the cot and pooling on the ground. He’d been shot in the chest and head. She’d taken him out effectively. James noticed his right hand was hanging off the cot and below it was a handgun.

  “He was armed,” James said.

  “She had no choice,” Connor said. “She made the right call.”

  “I’m impressed,” James said, looking around the room for any more threats.

  “I told you,” Connor said, “she’s tougher than she lets on. Just like Tank, actually.”

  “They are very similar.”

  “It’s probably why they argue so much.”

  “Wait, do you think—”

  “Maybe, but that’s a discussion for another time.”

  “True, let’s collect what we need and go rescue our friends.”

  James moved farther into the pavilion, his gaze sweeping over all the gear and guns lying out on the cots. Almost every cot held a uniform, rifle, handgun, tactical plate carrier, helmet, and a few personal effects. Only six cots were missing items. The one closest to Bryce’s room was missing a handgun. Maybe this was what Bryce had meant about finding his stuff. James checked and rechecked the room. When he was sure it was clear, he lowered his AR. Something felt wet on his side and he looked down, seeing that his wounded had opened again. He cursed.

  “I’ll signal Tank,” James said.

  “I’ll start gathering all the gear,” Connor said. “This is a jackpot!”

  James exited the pavilion and flashed his light toward the Hummer. It roared to life, headlights coming on, and Tank pul
led up next to the pavilion.

  “What’s the plan?” he asked, rolling down the passenger window.

  “Gather all we can here and then make a game plan,” James said. “If you want, there are some Kryptek uniforms in here. A bunch are unused. Plus a boatload of guns.”

  “Okay, I’ll be in,” Tank said, glancing at Chloe in the passenger’s seat.

  “Thank you,” James said, looking at Chloe. “You saved us and the rest of my group.”

  Chloe nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  “I’ll have to ask you later how you got so good at acting,” James said. “You had me fooled good.”

  A small smile grew on her lips. James turned and went back into the pavilion.

  “Bro!” Connor exclaimed. “These are Bushmaster ACRs!” He held up the rifle Bryce had been carrying earlier.

  “Really? I’ve never seen one in person,” James said, coming over to where his brother was making a pile of them on one of the cots.

  He picked one up. It felt like a dream come true with the smooth edges and sleek black exterior. It had a similar setup to an AR-15, which made him feel right at home. It was the weapon of a real man—or woman. The only downside was that it was a pound or so heavier than his AR, but other than that, it was impressive.

  “This is awesome!” James said. “Don’t these have the interchangeable barrels and the piston-operated action?”

  “Yep,” Connor said, “and they shoot 5.56 just like our ARs.”

  “Damn,” James said, examining the ACR in his hands.

  Most of them seemed to be fully loaded, with an angled foregrip, tactical light, IR laser, suppressor, and Trijicon 4x32 ACOG scope with a red dot on top—the perfect combination for both close quarters and long-range combat. Five of them were classified as DMRs and had longer barrels with a bipod and Vortex Razor 6-24x50 scope. Those were configured to be used at longer ranges.

  Connor came from the sectioned off part of the room, holding a very large machine gun. Tank walked into the pavilion just then and noticed the gun Connor held. His mouth dropped open.