Love and Decay, Vol. Four

  “Punishment for what?” Vaughan demanded.

  Adela asked and waited for their reply. “Punishment for the Cartel and the traffickers. Punishment because… because they are poor. Because they cannot feed themselves or heal their sick.”

  Tears pricked at my eyes and I wanted to join the little girl on the ground. “Tell them those things aren’t true,” I begged her. “They aren’t being punished. At least no more than the rest of us.”

  They watched Adela with wide eyes as she translated for me. They didn’t understand at first. The words didn’t reach them. She had to insist that she told them the truth. I heard it in her tone. She pleaded with them to understand that even though they were poor, they had worth.

  “They want to know why we are here,” she said again. There was exhaustion to her voice that hurt my heart.

  “We need their help,” Vaughan declared. “We will die if they don’t help us.”

  Their eyes got big again when Adela translated. The leader answered quickly, but Adela had a response ready. When he finally turned around and gestured for us to follow I couldn’t figure out what they said to each other.

  “He’s worried because they have nothing to give,” she told us with a quiet voice. “He thinks we are asking them for food and water. I told him that letting us in their city was enough, but he doesn’t believe me. He’s taking us to his king now. El Rey de la Rata will have an answer for him about what to do with us.”

  “That can’t be a good thing!” I whispered fiercely.

  Adela gave me a patient smile. “That is what they were called before the Dead rose. They were called ratas. In English you have a word for this… gutter rats. That is what they were until the infection and everyone else died. Now the ratas rule this area, so he is rightfully their king.”

  Most of the kids stayed behind to watch the gate, but a handful of them followed along with us, armed and dangerous. They openly stared at us, watching everything we did and sometimes imitating our facial expressions or gestures. They would laugh together at their versions, but it was as equally entertaining for us as it was them.

  Several of them were very curious about the baby, but Haley kept Lennon out of their reach. Adela tried to tell them that they were too dirty to touch the baby, but obviously they weren’t used to listening to anyone tell them what to do. Finally Nelson stepped in front of Haley and stared them down until they backed away. He didn’t have to speak. He just looked as mean as we all knew he could be when provoked.

  The kids got the message.

  They were also interested in Page. With her shiny blonde hair and pretty face, she looked like an angel in the deepest pits of hell.

  Hendrix and I had gotten roughed up in our battle. Nelson, Tyler, Miller, Vaughan, Harrison and King were all dirty as well. But we had gotten dirty so Page, Haley, Lennon and Adela didn’t have to. While I was covered head to toe in unnamable substances, Haley and Page were as clean as they had been this morning after an impromptu bath in a mountain stream, except for Page’s short bout of vomiting.

  Miller flexed next to Page, scaring off boys older than him. I caught Hendrix’s lips twitch as he fought off a smile.

  We wove between dilapidated houses that leaned on each other or threatened to collapse with the next gentle breeze. We walked across planks of rotting wood that were used as bridges over the slimy rivers of sewage. The sun rose higher in the sky and shed light on the gray existence these kids fought to live through every day.

  Every now and then someone would poke their head out of an open window or door, watching us with that same stunned disbelief the kids still wore. Older people were mixed in among the children, but they were mostly the elderly or women. I didn’t see any men loitering about or carrying weapons.

  “Adela, ask them where the men are?” I prompted.

  She did. Their leader replied with a blasé shrug of one shoulder and monotone explanation.

  “He says they left to fight three years ago and never came back.” Her words settled over us with new grief.

  Either they had all died or they’d escaped this desperate situation. They probably hadn’t thought anyone could survive here.

  They had been wrong. And at what price?

  “All of the men left?” Nelson pressed.

  Adela repeated the question in Spanish. She turned back to us and explained, “They were called to defend the city and work on the roads. He says they never came back.” She fell silent for a minute before continuing with her own version. “They were probably the ones that destroyed all of the roads and made Mexico City the only way through Mexico. They might have been trapped in other places around the city too. From what I understand the boroughs are at war. If they were caught in a neighborhood, they might not have been allowed to leave.”

  “But they’ve left these kids helpless! How have they been eating? What have they been eating? What about water?” I wondered if all big cities were like this? Haley and I had always tried to avoid the cities and potentially densely populated areas. The one time we’d been in one with the Parkers, it had been empty. We had raided a gun store in Oklahoma City, but the only people living there were Zombies. In America, all of the major metropolises had been evacuated first.

  It was the opposite here. Mexico City had become a war zone for both the Feeders and the humans. Millions of people had lived in peace here until the infection. Now those millions of people were at war with each other and an infection that had no cure or vaccine.

  I felt Colombia calling our name. We had to get down there. We had to do what we could to eradicate this disease. I couldn’t stand by and watch these children suffer.

  They had survived this long, but at what price. And how much longer could they go on living like this?

  We reached a structure with peeling tan paint and a slanted roof. The front door hung open off its hinges, the corner of it stuck in the mud. I glimpsed inside and saw bare feet hanging off a mattress on the floor. A thin, dirtied sheet covered a skinny body and mass of disheveled black hair. He snored into his boney elbow, completely oblivious to the crowd outside his door.

  There was a guard on watch, another kid with bigger arms and a thicker neck than the other kids. He was older than the boy that brought us here, but not by much. The guard eyed us suspiciously and listened to the first kid’s explanation.

  We waited patiently while they spoke in their native tongue and woke their king. He flipped over and Hendrix’s fast hand moved in front of Page’s gaping mouth.

  We slept with our boots on because we were afraid of something attacking us in the middle of the night.

  The Rat King apparently slept in the nude because that was just how he rolled.

  I tried to stifle my giggle while the king moved around his hovel, reluctantly dressing himself for his guests. He had no trouble taking his sweet time and flashing us his goods in the process.

  “My poor innocence,” I whined. “I feel like I just became a woman.”

  Hendrix snickered next to me. “Is that the first one you’ve seen?”

  I resisted the urge to punch him. “Are you kidding me? There used to be this thing called the internet. And HBO. Just because I’m a virgin, doesn’t mean I’m completely sheltered.”

  He looked at me out of the corner of his eye before humming, “Not for long.”

  My heart dropped to my toes and my stomach flipped violently. “Wait… what?”

  Hendrix winked at me as casually as can be while I tried not to vomit on his shoes. I was literally covered in other people’s shit and a gallon of Zombie blood, yet Hendrix somehow had the ability to turn me into jelly. Into hot and bothered jelly.

  Part of me hoped he at least wanted to wait until we’d been able to bathe in bleach. The other part of me shivered with anticipation.

  The lanky body of an eighteen-year-old king stepped into view. He grabbed the doorframe overhead with two hands and leaned forward. He took in the sight of us while his guard relayed our circumstance
s. A slow smile spread across his face, revealing two gold teeth mixed in with his others.

  He tilted his head to the side and with perfect English said, “Kill them.”

  Chapter Three

  An explosion of Spanish erupted around me. Adela frantically pleaded for our lives while the kid that led us here looked like he was trying to talk the Rat King out of killing us. The Rat King frowned, but said nothing while his guard pulled his gun out and pointed it at us.

  Adela stepped in front of it, gripping the barrel with her delicate hands. Nelson put his hand on her shoulder and tried to pull her back but she shrugged him off without breaking her desperate plea.

  Harrison stepped up and stood next to her. His brothers all growled at him to get out of the way, but he waved them off.

  I thought he wanted to protect the family, but the longer he stood there I realized he was watching over Adela. I glanced at Hendrix, who wore a knowing look.

  So Harrison didn’t hate Adela as much as he pretended to. Either that or he realized how important her translation services were for our survival.

  Either way, at least he didn’t want her to die.

  “Enough!” The Rat King shouted when it was clear he couldn’t take anymore. He ducked back into the house and for a moment I had hope that he would take back his order. But then he reemerged with a bottle of tequila and I lost all of the faith I had in the kid.

  He gargled with it first, spitting it out on the ground before taking a long swig of the golden liquor. His throat worked to swallow and he made these very unattractive glugging noises that I thought might have been for show. When he was finished, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned at us.

  Breakfast of champions.

  “I will take her, then.” He pointed at Adela. “If you want to live, you must give me her.”

  Vaughan let out a long-suffering sigh. Clearly he had no patience for this. “You can’t have her. We don’t bargain with people.”

  “Well,” the king countered with his thick accent, “then I will have to kill you. That is my way.”

  “We’re all armed,” Vaughan explained, leaving out the part where we weren’t armed very well. “You have one guard on you. We’ll kill you before anyone can come to help you.”

  The Rat King did not look pleased with this revelation. He turned to the kid that brought us here and backhanded him roughly. He started shouting at him in Spanish, hitting him until the kid covered his face and cowered. Hendrix stepped up with his guns on full display and the king backed off slowly.

  “He is very stupid,” the king explained. “All of these kids are. They don’t speak English. They don’t know how to read. The only thing they can do is shoot. They are lucky that is enough for them.”

  “How do you know English?” Vaughan asked carefully.

  “Drugs,” the king said simply. “Before… all of this. I ran drugs to your country.”

  From drug mule to king. This was a success story in the making.

  “Why do you want to kill us?” Vaughan pressed.

  The king eyed our weapons. I watched his thoughts flash across his face, as if he were deciding what to say. “You’re here to take my kingdom. I will not let you.”

  “We don’t want anything from you,” Vaughan explained quickly. We’re just passing through. We were attacked and your people let us in and saved our lives.”

  “You don’t want anything from me?” The king considered Vaughan’s words, but it was obvious he didn’t trust them.

  Vaughan shook his head slowly. “Nothing. We just want to keep going.”

  “Keep going where?” He took another deep swig of his tequila. Color returned to his pallid cheeks and his eyes grew glossier with each drink.

  “We’re trying to get through the city,” Vaughan explained. “We’re looking for a man named Tomás.”

  The king nodded along and said, “I know Tomás.”

  Adela jumped in. “There are lots of men by that name. We are looking for one in particular.”

  “I know which one you’re looking for,” the king chuckled.

  “How?” Adela narrowed her eyes on him. “How could you possibly know that?”

  He shrugged. “Because there is only one Tomás that matters. He took la catedral.”

  I watched Adela meet Vaughan’s gaze. She bit her bottom lip and raised her eyebrows. She had no idea if that was the Tomás we were looking for. But Diego seemed to assume the same thing the Rat King did. There was only one Tomás that mattered.

  We needed to get to that Tomás.

  I didn’t know how far away the catedral was or if Tomás would even be willing to help us once we got there, but we were pretty much out of options.

  Again.

  “Can you point us in the right direction?” Vaughan asked without revealing how desperately we needed him to.

  “For the girl,” the king grinned. He chugged at the bottle while his lecherous gaze swept over Adela. I shuttered for her and decided that if he tried to lay one finger on her, I would shoot him myself.

  “You’re not getting the girl,” Vaughan growled. “Give it up.”

  Adela lifted her chin and spoke in Spanish. I thought that was strange at first because the king could speak English so there was no need. Until I picked out the word Diego. I realized she was using her connection with him to protect herself.

  Smart girl.

  The king’s expression flashed with fury and he replied with something I would have translated like, “You think I care about him?”

  Whatever Adela said in return must have made the Rat King start to care because he dropped the subject.

  “Fine,” he said. “I will send Miguel with you.” He nodded his head at the boy who had brought us here. “Since he is so eager to help you, he can show you the way.”

  Adela translated for Miguel, since it was apparent the king wasn’t going to. Miguel shook his head frantically and spoke in fast Spanish.

  “He says he does not know the way,” Adela translated for him. “He’s never left this place before.”

  The Rat King sighed heavily. “Fine, I will send Luis too and Flora. Together they can figure it out.” He translated for Miguel, then turned to us and said. “There are tunnels you can use until you reach Zócalo. They should be mostly free of Dead.”

  Mostly free wasn’t exactly good news, but it was better than completely overrun.

  “You could come with us,” Vaughan offered. “All of your people could. We could help you get some place safe. Some place less… hopeless.”

  The Rat King took another long pull from his tequila bottle and grinned stupidly at us. “Why would I leave this place? I used to be a rat, but now I am a king.”

  I didn’t remind him that he wasn’t actually a king.

  If he had run drugs before the infection, he would have been fourteen or fifteen at most. That meant his child had been stripped from him and sold to corruption and danger. I understood the appeal of running a place like this.

  He wanted control of his life.

  He wanted the power to make his own decisions and call his own shots.

  But his power wouldn’t last because this place couldn’t last. I couldn’t stomach the idea of what they did for food. Clearly he didn’t need water to drink when he had bottles of tequila lying around.

  This was not a sustainable lifestyle, but somehow I knew that wouldn’t matter to him.

  He was right, he was a king here. Out in the rest of the city he would be nothing but bait.

  I knew that feeling all too well and I hated it. I hated that we were constantly hunted and threatened. I completely understood his reasoning.

  If I had the chance to set up someplace stable, where my life and the lives of my loved ones, weren’t forever at risk, I would take it in a heartbeat.

  It was exactly what I was trying to do by getting through this city.

  “Gracias,” Vaughan said sincerely. “Thank you for your kindness.”

/>   The king pointed at Page. “What about her? Can I have her?”

  I resisted the urge to punch the idiot in his stupid face. King and Vaughan stepped next to her and glared at him.

  “No,” Hendrix bit out. “None of our women are for sale.”

  The king tipped the bottle to his lips and staggered back to his bed without acknowledging us again. We were dismissed.

  Miguel started walking again. Adela followed him and gestured for us to come too. He said something to her in Spanish and hitched his thumb back at us.

  “He is going to collect Flora and Luis, then he will take us to the tunnels,” she explained.

  “What are these tunnels?” Nelson’s fear was evident in his voice.

  Haley had managed to get Lennon back to sleep. He nestled into her body, but she wouldn’t be able to keep him asleep forever. He would be hungry soon.

  And then he would poop. Because that was all he did. He ate and he pooped. Haley had been fashioning diapers out of clean clothes donated from Andy and Joy, but they wouldn’t last forever. And so far we hadn’t had enough clean water to wash them out and reuse them.

  “From what I’ve gathered, they used to be for drugs,” Adela answered. “They would run the drugs out of the city or into the city this way. Miguel has never been in them before, but he knows about them. Everyone knows about them.”

  “And they’re safe?” Nelson pressed.

  Adela thought about her answer for a minute before she said, “They’re safer than running through a city filled with Dead.”

  Nelson didn’t reply to that. She was right. If we had to fight our way to Tomás, we would never make it. This seemed like the perfect solution to our problems.

  I still mourned the van and had no idea how we would get beyond Tomás and his catedral, but I had hope. If we’d made it this far then we could keep going.

  I would not give up yet.

  Or ever. If I had learned anything over the last three years, it was that it wasn’t in me to back down or walk away.

  I was incapable of doing anything else but fighting until the very end for my survival.