I couldn’t let someone with a name like Mama Rosa die! That had to be the worst kind of karma.
Just as Vaughan opened his mouth to give us some instructions, an ear-splitting sound rent the room. I jumped six inches off the ground and immediately covered my ears.
The sirens?
Mama Rosa had been right.
I looked back at my friends who all appeared slightly terrified.
“This is it!” Vaughan shouted and went to work on the locks. “Where did she say the trucks were parked?”
Nobody had the answer. Nobody knew.
It didn’t matter. We would find them. We had to find them. This was more than likely our only shot to get out of here alive.
We would find the trucks or die trying.
Chapter Four
Nothing could have prepared me for the world we stepped into outside the safe walls of our cells. Part of me wanted to rush back inside and lock myself in that prison again.
I knew it would be safer than this.
The Colony would be safer than this!
We had heard rumors of Mexico before, but not even those could live up to this reality.
Zombie armies? Check. Ex-Cartel factions going to war over territories? Check. Intelligent, cognizant Zombies that were trained to kill? Trained to be weapons? Check. The desolation of a Mexican desert and nowhere to run and hide? Check. Check. Holy freaking check.
The village had been disturbingly peaceful and populated when we got here. People had milled about agreeably, conversing easily. Sure, they’d also carried weapons openly, but they weren’t idiots!
Especially not if they’d lived this long into the end of the world.
We had walked into the police station, or whatever that was, during a relative time of peace. We walked out of it into a war zone.
And this time I meant it. I’d used “war zone” to describe conflicts with Zombies before, but this time I meant it. This time it was an actual war zone.
Guns popped off in rapid succession. The kind of guns that militaries used to use and smugglers made mucho dinero by selling them on the black market. Zombies filled the narrow street. Filled it. And the alarm continued to wail, competing with the cacophony of other sounds.
As far as I could tell, there were two factions. One was led by Diego, with his cowboy hat wearing, red bandana armed amigos. The other faction wore baseball hats and black bandanas.
And believe me when I say, the type of hats and colors of bandanas made all the difference.
The ten of us stood there watching bloodshed and mayhem unfold in front of us. We couldn’t seem to grasp the finer details of this battle. Zombies, with their party’s bandana tied to their grotesque arms, fought each other or chased down men that had lost their weapons or run out of bullets. Women and children were trapped against buildings or underneath hungry Feeders.
I had assumed the cages in the desert were meant to trap and keep Feeders from harming the local population, but I had been wrong. Those Feeders made up horde armies. They were used to attack; they had been trained to kill for purpose.
I’d walked from a nightmare straight to the center of hell.
“We have to get out of here,” Vaughan shouted.
He didn’t have to tell us twice. We turned to the right, the opposite way we came into town and the least war torn, and took off. I hadn’t eaten in hours and I felt weak from fatigue and stress, but I pushed my body to the absolute limits. I forced my body to be more than it was for the sake of survival.
We stayed close to the buildings and ran around as much of the action as we could. A man grabbed Tyler as we tried to side-step a brawl between several men, but Hendrix and Vaughan stepped in. They rescued Tyler and knocked her attacker out cold.
If he would have had a weapon, the fight might have ended differently.
We pushed on. Nelson kept his hand to Haley’s back and helped her navigate the rough streets. Harrison threw Page onto his back and ran alongside Vaughan. We weren’t escaping fast, but we were making progress.
Then again, we could be going the wrong way. So…
I ran towards the back of the group, just behind King. The crazier the chaos became, the harder it was to stay together. The two factions were fighting so hard, they barely noticed our group of fugitives running away. Bullets whizzed overhead, but we kept our heads low and moved as fast as we could.
I saw Vaughan turn a corner up ahead. I hoped that meant he could see trucks or vehicles or Adela or something. Mama Rosa was nowhere to be seen, which was probably a good thing. I hardly knew the woman, but for some reason I needed her to be safe and out of trouble.
Sure, she’d raised a monster… but she’d also helped us escape. That counted for something.
Two men crashed against the building a foot in front of me. I reeled back to keep from getting punched in the face. I jumped back further when one of them pulled the other to the ground. He produced a six-inch blade and shoved it into the other one’s side. Blood gurgled from the soon-to-be-dead guy’s mouth and his eyes looked up at me, hazy and unseeing.
His killer looked up at me too, a lascivious grin plastered on his ugly face. He wore a black bandana on his head. All of these men were my enemy, but my policy had always been to stick with the enemy I knew.
Which meant black was worse than red.
Only in my world would that crazy thought make sense.
I looked up to find myself completely alone. My friends had all turned the corner and moved out of sight. My delay had seriously cost me.
I darted to the left, straight into the middle of the street and center of the action. I felt the guy lunge after me, but I slipped between two other fistfights and hoped they were too absorbed in staying alive to notice me.
I couldn’t see through all of the flying arms and pummeling fists. The light of the day had dimmed enough that the sharper edges of the town were dulled and darkened. I looked up to realize I had gotten lost in the middle of the street.
I spun around in a circle and tried to pick out a familiar landmark or even the police station so that I could gauge my location, but nothing seemed right. The crumbling stucco buildings blended together in a long line of confusion. The men around me battled each other and crazed Feeders that snarled and snapped with the desperation to kill. And the damn siren continued to blare, making it impossible to think clearly.
My heart pounded painfully in my chest and my fingers went cold. Panic. I realized I had started to panic. I wanted to put my head between my knees and focus on sucking in a deep breath, but I couldn’t afford the time.
I had to get out of here and catch up to the rest of my group.
I didn’t think they would leave without me… I just hoped they noticed I was missing.
Something painful bit at my arm and, for just a second, I thought it was a Feeder gnawing at me. I glanced down and breathed a momentary breath of relief. It wasn’t a Zombie mouth but a hand. The hand was attached to a body, a surprisingly familiar body given my circumstances.
Diego glared down at me, fury in his eyes and sweat glistening on his brow. I stared at his scar while he shook me. It was more obvious this close up.
I would have put money on a knife wound. However, it was old. Older than the Zombie Apocalypse.
“Where do you think you’re going, Reagan?” He spit my name like a curse word. He tightened his grip on my arm and I winced involuntarily. “How did you get out?”
“Magic,” I growled at him.
He swung me around and slapped me across the face with the back of his hand. My head whipped to the side, I felt my neck crack in protest. Something wet dripped down my lip and when my tongue darted out to catch it, I tasted copper and salt. He’d drawn blood.
“Don’t get smart with me. I want to know how you got out!” He screamed in my face spraying me with spittle and his own blood.
A fist fight careened into me from behind and shoved me into Diego. He pushed me off of him so forcefully that I ripp
ed from his grip and landed on my ass. My tailbone hit the hard ground with a painful thud. My ass was going to be black and blue tomorrow.
If I lived to see tomorrow.
I groaned and fought to stay focused and find energy. I was used to being pushed to the limits physically. I wasn’t used to being beaten by another human being. My jaw was on fire. I could feel my face swelling as the seconds ticked by.
“Get up,” Diego snarled.
I looked around and noticed that we were nearly all alone now. Apparently men on both sides of the conflict knew better than to get in Diego’s way. The Zombies were mostly contained at the other end of the street.
My fear inched up a notch.
“No.” I tilted my chin and met his dark brown eyes with whatever courage I had left. It was nearly impossible to be defiant from the ground, but I knew that if I stood up, he would just hit me again. His hands trembled at his sides and it wasn’t because he was scared.
“Get up, you stupid cow!”
Well, that was uncalled for.
“No.”
He pulled his foot back and I braced myself for his kick. I closed my eyes and raised my feet in a pathetic attempt to shield myself. My fear rang in my ears, rushing like a windstorm that muffled every other sound.
I couldn’t hold my breath any longer and realized I had been waiting for a while and nothing had touched me. I opened my eyes and blinked again.
Hendrix had Diego pinned to the ground. I watched in awe as Hendrix pulled his fist back and then let it fly at Diego’s face. Blood erupted from his nose.
The scene looked so similar to the one from the pharmacy that I thought for a moment I was hallucinating. But unlike the bounty hunter, Diego was used to using his fists to get his way.
Hendrix had gotten one great hit in, but Diego wasn’t going to let that happen again. He punched Hendrix in the jaw and then leveraged his weight so he could roll Hendrix beneath him.
“No,” I repeated yet again, only this time it was a harsh whisper of despair.
I scrambled to my feet and tried to figure out a way to stop this fight.
“Stop!” I screamed when blood started gushing from Hendrix’s nose too. “Stop!”
No one listened to me. They continued to fight viciously, neither of them planning to stop until the other one was dead.
I glanced around, desperate to find a weapon. There was nothing.
Hysterical panic pelted me. I felt it with each punch that Diego landed on Hendrix. I felt it with each second that passed and we were still stuck here.
Hendrix finally flipped Diego back beneath him and managed several solid hits on Diego, enough to make the older man’s eyes cloud over with momentary confusion. I thought that would be the end of Diego. I thought Hendrix had finally beaten him senseless.
I was wrong. Diego shook his head furiously from side to side and snapped back into focus. He was a hell of a fighter, unwilling to quit or be defeated.
That was probably how he had gotten the position he had. Before the Apocalypse or after, Diego knew how to hurt a man and keep from getting fatally injured himself.
The new survival of the fittest.
When Diego got the upper hand on Hendrix again, I just knew this fight was over. And that we’d lost.
Diego scrambled to his feet and kicked Hendrix in the side. I screamed out with the sickening impact. Hendrix’s released an oomph as the breath whooshed out of him. I wouldn’t’ have been surprised if there were a few broken ribs after that.
I fell to my knees and put my hands in the air. “Stop!” I screamed. “Please! I give up! No more! I give up!”
I could have gone through much worse if it were just me, but watching Hendrix suffer like this was too much. Tears streamed from my eyes and my hands trembled violently. I couldn’t stand this any longer. I would do anything to stop it, anything to protect Hendrix.
Even if that meant giving up.
Diego stood over Hendrix, staring down at him with a body coiled tight from unrestrained power. Even before he turned around I could feel the intent to hurt Hendrix, really hurt him, ripple through the air. I could smell the dirt mingled with blood and the sound of flesh hitting flesh still echoed in my ears. My skin hummed from ugly anticipation, my heart galloped with this enormous sense of loss.
Hendrix’s legs twitched and his chest made this horrible noise when he breathed. I could hear it from here, over the sound of the siren and the Zombies screeching.
Diego looked at me over his shoulder. His chest heaved with the effort it took to beat Hendrix. His eyes lit with a vengeful fire. He had stopped, but he didn’t want to.
He wanted to hurt some more.
And now his focus was aimed at me.
“You never had a choice, Chica.” He shoved his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a switchblade. The swish of the knife sounded incredibly loud against the other sounds it had to compete with.
I shuffled on my knees toward Diego, hands still raised. Maybe he would kill me for interfering.
Maybe I wanted him to.
Flashes of Kane rushing out to meet that horde of Feeders played on a loop in my head. My heart stopped and started each time he collapsed on the ground beneath their weight and viciousness. In my head I started to replace Kane with Hendrix and the image crippled me.
Hendrix wasn’t supposed to sacrifice his life for mine.
I wasn’t worth it.
But that’s what he did when he stepped into this place. He’d taken on Diego and in turn offered up his life for mine.
I could not let this continue.
I would not.
Diego’s expression shifted from pure loathing to something slightly softer but not any less dangerous. I reached for his pants and clutched them with a shaking hand.
“Stop,” I begged him. “Please.”
His mouth curled into a malicious smile. “You don’t want me to kill him?”
I shook my head quickly, “No.”
He leaned down and got right in my face. I could smell his sweat and feel the heat of his body. He pressed the tip of his knife against my throat and I instinctively tilted my chin up and moved my head back. The knife followed me, a symbol of his dominance over me and his plans for my future.
I felt the snick of the blade as it cut through my skin, the burn of the slice as blood began to drip down into the hollow of my throat and then soak the collar of my t-shirt.
I tried not to make a sound.
“How about I kill you then?”
“Do it,” I dared him. “Kill me.”
“I’ll just kill him afterwards.”
“At least I won’t have to watch it happen.” That was a lie. I would come back from the dead and murder this guy if he put another hand on Hendrix.
“You think you’re brave?”
“I’m not brave. I’m just trying to survive.”
Diego pulled back an inch and barked out a surprised laugh. “Aren’t we all?” He retracted his blade, clicked it closed and held out a hand for me. “I’m not going to kill you. You’re worth too much.” His accent had thickened throughout the conflict. This tone sounded heavy and exotic, but still final.
“I told you that-”
“You think I do not know Matthias Allen? You think I do not know of the Colony? I know. I know everything. You were marked as soon as you crossed the border.”
The possibility that information was true spun violently in my head and I thought I would be sick from it. If Diego knew… How many others?
This had been destined to fail before we ever started.
Somehow Matthias had managed to reach his filthy claws into the entire world. When nothing worked, when nothing went right, when absolutely every single thing had gone to shit, Matthias had somehow managed to bend this world to his will.
“You’re mine, Woman. I own you now.”
“Until you hand me over to Matthias.”
Diego’s face split into a confident grin, “Or may
be I kill Matthias and take his territory. That’s how it works down here. Did you know that? This is a territory war. But I will kill my enemy, Jose. I will kill him before night falls and then I will inherit his land, his army and his women.”
A chill washed over me despite the ungodly heat. I had come from a country that had been ruled by nothing or by one evil man. I had to look out for other humans because they couldn’t be trusted, because they could be dangerous. And Matthias had been the deadliest of them all.
But the leftovers of America had nothing on Mexico. This was tribal warfare at its finest. These men wore their kills on their sleeves with pride and didn’t even try to disguise their intentions.
Matthias was a leader by right- according to him. Diego was a leader by might. And only time would tell if might made right or if Matthias was truly evil incarnate and could outlive anything.
I didn’t mind the idea of Diego wanting to go to war with him though. That definitely worked in my favor.
Being Diego’s prisoner on the other hand? No, thanks.
While we had been talking, Diego’s men had fallen back and fought in a straight line across the street to keep the Feeders at bay. I had been aware of them because it was always important to be aware of Feeders when they completely surrounded you. But so far, we had been safely tucked away at the edge of town while Diego and Hendrix tried to murder each other.
The war waged beyond our isolated place. Men killing men, Feeders killing whatever they could get their greedy, putrid fingers on. Diego had lost a lot of men today, but he also had a lot of men. Spoils of war I supposed.
When your apocalyptic leader died, the only logical thing to do next was fall in line with the dictator that killed him. Or that’s what it seemed these men believed.
It didn’t matter how many men he had though, because while I chatted him up, Hendrix had crawled to his feet and walked to the edge of the circle. I hadn’t even noticed him move. He was either that stealthy or I was really concerned with my conversation and unfortunate future.
Probably both.
When I finally noticed Hendrix, I expected him to jump back onto Diego and have a repeat of the earlier wrestling match.