Infection Runs Deep

CHAPTER NINETEEN: DEPLOYMENT

The crunch of loose gravel was the only sound on these empty roads. Our driver tried to turn up the radio to alleviate the tension, but nothing but static blasted through the speakers. Ian remained unconscious, his head propped up on my legs to avoid the hard crunch of his skull against the metal truck bed.

Stupid of them to leave us with all of the guns in the back, but it wasn't like I could do anything with them, especially when Ian was out of commission. We were outnumbered, trapped, and defenseless. Part of me wanted to trust Sarah and her cohorts, but the logical part of me screamed to avoid the complacency. They did coerce us into coming with them after all.

I was worried about Elizabeth and Warner. Lindsay said that they ran, leaving us for dead. They would never do that. They would only escape if they were in mortal danger. The assassins were still after us. I had a bad feeling that they were on Elizabeth and Warner's tail. A twisted part of me was relieved that they weren't after us.

I looked down at Ian, his face so smooth and peaceful in sleep. I had a responsibility to protect him, for both his sake and his brother's. I owed Warner my life and I would do whatever it took to repay that debt. As much as I didn't want to admit, Ian had saved my life, too. Warner and I'd be part of the infected crew if it weren't for him and Elizabeth. It was a life debt. No debt goes unfulfilled.

A large squawk echoed from the car speakers. Still full of static, a glitch perhaps.

Lindsay turned to us, her pretty face framed by the small back window. Her wicked smile revealed two rows of perfect, pearly teeth. "We're just about there."

"How far out?" I asked, subtle nudging Ian. I needed him to get up. This was an unknown situation and I needed someone that I could trust. Like it or not, we were in this together. I knew he'd be pissed that I knocked him out, but he'll forgive me later. He'll understand. Maybe that was supreme arrogance, to decide what he really wanted, but I had no choice. He was going to get himself killed.

"Less than fifteen, give or take," Sarah said back, still facing forward. A queen not bothering to greet her peasants. Back to the high and mighty attitude then. "You'll get the lay of the land when--Holy shit, swerve."

The driver listened, sending the end of the car swirling around as we narrowly missed an infected in the middle of the street. Ian bolted up at the sudden turn, clutching his head and groaning.

"Luke?" he moaned. "My head." He pressed a hand to his forehead. "What happened?" He sat up straighter and groggily surveyed our surroundings. "Where are we?"

"Not now," I grit out, pressing a gun into his hand. "How many?" I called out to Sarah, surveying the scene for myself.

I slid her and Linsday guns through the window, too worried about our safety to be possessive over guns and ammo. Lindsay cocked a handgun before passing it to Sarah, saving the long gun for herself. I almost pitied the infected after seeing her vicious excitement.

"Got a bunch along this stretch," she said, taking aim. "Only take out the ones we have to. We got to make sure they don't follow us back again."

"You've had this problem before?" Ian flicked up his brows and then whispered to me, "this is one hell of a survivor group you picked."

I debated flipping him off, but chose to be the bigger person and take out my anger through killing. After firing three shots, each to the head, I turned back to Ian. "Shut up and shoot."

We took out a few more infected, but our driver kept swerving, making kill shots very difficult. I could barely hit them, let alone nail them down in one shot.

"Tell you driver to keep it steady or we're gonna get swarmed," I yelled to Sarah, my voice lost in the gunfire.

It was too late. The road was packed with infected, a strange horde of adults of all shapes and sizes. A man with one arm stumbled along dressed in scrubs while a woman in a torn blue dress limped after him.