Devoured - - (list of e readers .TXT) 📗
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“I understand that, but it doesn’t mean I have to like the fact that you just broke down one of the things between me and them.”
“Fair enough.”
“What happened with the military last night?” Lance took a tentative seat on a stool at the far end of the bar. “I heard the bombing and shooting, but I didn’t look outside.”
“They got their asses kicked, same as us. We watched a whole goddamn battalion get taken out.” Ralph looked at the vodka bottle again, his head cocked at angle as if contemplating another drink.
Lance hoped he wouldn’t have to take the booze away. He didn’t need a confrontation. “It sounded like they were hitting the city with artillery.”
“They were.”
Lance stayed quiet for a bit, trying to think of a way to get them out of the restaurant. They seemed nice enough, but that didn’t mean much. Lance had never been the best judge of character. He married Liz after all.
“You said that you think you’re all that’s left of your group. You didn’t see the rest die?”
“We saw a lot of ‘em die, but not all.” Ralph scratched his chin. “They caught us so off guard that our group split in two. Everyone in our half got taken out.”
“How did you manage to survive the night with all of those things out there?”
“When the military showed up and started raising hell, we used the distraction to climb in the back of a burned-out bus. They didn’t find us until twenty minutes ago, when some numb nuts had to take a leak.” He glared at the boy. “We’ve been running from them since. Don’t have enough ammo to shoot ‘em all, so we ran.”
Mumbling came from outside as another infected shambled by the restaurant. The men waited for it to pass.
Tony whispered, “Nice place you have here; ‘cept for the smashed window anyway.”
Lance stared at him. “How long are you boys planning on hanging around?”
“Easy now,” Ralph said. “We’re just hiding for a bit. The day at the most. There’s a rendezvous point that our group is supposed to meet at if we get split up. That’s tonight, so we’re out of here by then.”
All three of them turned and looked at him, waiting for him to acknowledge their continued presence. Lance didn’t see too many outcomes that didn’t end with him shooting them, or vice versa. Unless they were telling the truth, and just wanted a place to squat in for the day.
“Fine. Don’t know how much longer I can stay here anyway. Most of the food was gone when I got here. We should move to the back of the restaurant. There’s less of a chance of them overhearing us back in the kitchen.”
“Lead the way.” Ralph picked up his rifle and laid it against his shoulder. “You’re the boss.”
Lance turned and headed to the kitchen, wondering if he was making a mistake.
Pain exploded in the back of his head.
He fell to his knees, shotgun clattering across the floor.
The world went black.
Throbbing pain ran from the top of his skull to the yolk of his shoulders.
Lance groaned as his eyes fluttered open.
Racks ran up walls on either side of him. Bags of bread lay on the floor around his shoulders and arms. He was in the freezer.
His arms wouldn’t move.
Head pounding, Lance craned his neck, saw his arms tied to his torso.
Backpack gone.
“Son of a—”
“Welcome back,” Ralph said. He walked through the prep kitchen and stopped at the open door of the freezer, leaning against the frame. “How’s your head?”
“Hurts like hell.” Lance’s eyes swiveled around, investigating the freezer, hoping to spot his shotgun.
“Looking for this?” Ralph reached around the doorframe to the outside of the freezer and pulled the shotgun into Lance’s view. He held it by his waist, shaking it slightly, as if he were showing a treat to a dog.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You have things that we want.”
“If you’d asked—”
“Don’t bother, son. You wanted us out of here ASAP. I don’t blame you, of course, but that doesn’t jive with what we need.”
Lance closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “What are you going to do with me?”
“Haven’t decided that yet.” Ralph scratched his chin. “Tony wants to kill you. Mike’s a little squeamish about the idea, seeing as you aren’t infected.”
Tony hollered from the dining room, “Just kill ‘em and get it over with!”
“Why the hell would you kill me?” Lance tried to keep the panic from his voice. It didn’t work.
“That’s what I said.” Ralph shrugged his shoulders. “He seems to think that you’ll come after us. I don’t see how you’ll get out of the restaurant when we leave. Not like you have a gun or anything.”
“You want to leave me here, tied up and defenseless? And you were trying to convince me that you’re the good guys?”
“Good is a relative term nowadays, I’m ‘fraid.”
Lance struggled against the tape, getting nowhere. His hands tingled from blood loss because of the cinched bindings.
“Easy now, Lance. You aren’t getting out of those.”
The teen walked into view, drinking a beer from the fridge. “If we just leave him here, won’t he turn into one of those things after they get at him?”
“Boy, it ain’t even noon yet and you’re gonna be half in the bag. Put that goddamn beer down.” Ralph cocked an eyebrow as he turned back to Lance. “You do have a point though. If they don’t kill him, just bite him, we’ll have another one of those damned things coming after us.”
Mike put the beer down on the counter. “I think I’m changing my mind—Tony might be right. We should put him out of his misery.”
“See? Even the kid knows I’m right,” Tony shouted.
“Tony! Keep it down, for Christ’s sake! We broke the window out front, remember? Why don’t you just invite the whole city to come in here?” Ralph rolled his eyes. “See what I’m dealing with, Lance?”
“I feel so bad for you,” Lance said. “Why not just let me go? I’ll walk out of here right now. You didn’t tell me where your rendezvous is, or whatever you called it.”
Ralph studied him for a moment. “Come here, Mike.”
The young man stepped beside his leader.
“You just said that you didn’t like killing someone who wasn’t infected. What changed your mind?” Ralph put his hand on Mike’s shoulder.
Mike said, “It just doesn’t feel right leaving him here for them. Seems more humane to put him down.”
“What the hell is wrong with you people? Why do I have to die at all? Just let me go!” Lance’s voice rose, getting louder and higher, paralleling his fear.
“Quiet. You make a ruckus and you’ll leave me with no choice.” Ralph looked back at Mike. “Maybe we could just let him go. What do you think of that?”
Lance stared at them in disbelief. His life was being used as a tool to teach the boy some kind of warped lesson. These people were mad.
“That sounds good, but what if he wants revenge? Or what if he gets turned in a day or two and we have one more monster trying to kill us?”
“So what do you think we should do?” Ralph asked.
“I don’t know, Grandpa.” Mike refused to meet Lance’s eyes, even though he openly discussed his fate. “Killing him still feels wrong.”
“So why did you say that you think Tony is right?”
“I thought that’s what you wanted to hear.” Mike’s shoulders slumped.
Lance shook his head. This family’s morality was somewhere right of Hitler. Who suggests killing a man because they think it will please their grandfather?
“You people are seriously fucked.”
Ralph’s face flashed with anger. “One more word, and—”
A crash of splintering wood came from the bar area. Tony roared, low and deep, like a growling war cry.
“They’re in!” Ralph spun the boy around and pushed him through the prep area, taking Lance’s shotgun with him.
Lance struggled into a seated position, knowing that he had to get out of the freezer and escape the restaurant somehow. If the Manson family managed to fight off whatever horror came through the window, they’d probably kill him. Then again, if he did get outside, the victims of the Xavier virus would do him in.
His head pounded.
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