“It was only after we refused to do what he wanted. That’s when he turned on us.”
Krista shook her head but didn’t respond.
“Look, you don’t know Lipton like I do. He’s more than brilliant, but he has the patience of a gnat. When things don’t go his way, he makes bad choices.”
“Apparently,” Krista said. His story seemed a bit over the top. Summer’s face indicated she was cool with his story, but something was off. Krista could feel it.
Horton continued. “Like I said before, this was Lipton’s idea. He was the one holding the gun.”
Krista pointed with her thumb. “Why didn’t you just sick Miss Ugly Teeth over there on him? That would have put an end to the threat.”
“She’s not like that anymore.”
“Yeah, right. So now you’re saying a Scab has had a change of heart. Not buying it.”
“It’s true. Why else would all of us be standing here, together? If she was still all instinct and attack, that would never be the case.”
“Nice try. Sorry. Nobody changes like that, least of all a Scab. Even if she’s the only female, they can’t change their true nature.”
“Look, in the end, the three of us are all on the same side. We need each other. Even Lipton.”
Krista pointed to Summer and then herself. “And that matters to us, how?”
“We have inside information that Edison can use. That has to be worth something, right? All we need is a little help. That’s all. Then we’ll be on our way.”
Krista angled her head to the truck. “Edison didn’t make it.”
“I’m in charge now,” Summer said.
“I’m sorry to hear that. I always liked the Professor.”
“So you’ve met him?” Krista asked, her gut telling her to continue to vet the man’s story.
“Not exactly. But I was part of Fletcher’s security team a few times at the Trading Post. I got a good sense. From a distance type thing.”
Krista studied the man’s face carefully, while searching her memory. “Hmmm. I was there for every monthly meet. I never saw you there.”
“No surprise. I was usually tasked with guarding the vehicles.”
Krista huffed, turning her focus to Summer. “You don’t believe any of this bullshit, do you? He’s obviously lying.”
“I don’t know. Sounds genuine to me.”
Horton continued. “Just so you know, Helena has saved me more than once. Lipton, too. She can sense when the Scabs are about to attack. I’m sure that kind of skill would come in handy for your group. Right?”
Krista peered at Summer, wanting to make sure their new leader wasn’t going to fall for this man’s tricks.
Summer let out a thin smile, her eyes obviously asking for confirmation of the claim.
Krista shook her head at Summer, then returned her attention to Horton. “That’s all fine and well, until she gets hungry. Then what? We can’t have a wild animal running loose in camp, snacking on little kids or whatever.”
“She’s right,” Summer added.
Krista continued, tugging on Summer’s shirt sleeve. “We need to leave. Now. They’re not our concern. We’ve wasted enough time already. We’ve got wounded in the truck, in case you forgot.”
Summer took a few moments before she answered. “Okay, I’ve made my decision.”
Krista brought the gun up, hoping to get the order to terminate all three of them. If nothing else, leave them behind.
Summer once again put a hand on Krista’s arm, pushing it down. “We take them with us so Liz can patch them up. Then we send them on their way with food and supplies. Give them a chance out there. It’s the right thing to do.”
“You can’t be serious?”
“I am.”
“Edison would never have done that.”
“Yes, he would. He would never turn his back on those in need. And neither will we. No matter what side they used to be on. That’s what June would have wanted.”
“That’ll give away our position.”
“Not if we blindfold them.”
“Jesus, Summer. It’s still a huge risk.”
“You can tie them up, if that makes you feel better.”
Krista didn’t answer, only shaking her head. She didn’t have the words.
Summer’s voice turned stout. “You said you’d back me up. Well, right now I need you to back me up. So what’s it gonna be, Krista? Can I count on you, or do I need to make it a direct order? Again.”
Krista didn’t want to agree, but Summer was the boss. There was no denying it, no matter how stupid or risky the decision. In the end, duty called. “The others are not going to like this. Especially bringing back a Scab girl. How are you going to explain that? They’ll never trust her. Or you, after that point.”
“Not sure yet, but I’ll think of something.”
CHAPTER 3
Stanley Fletcher took a step back to allow his new second-in-command, Stan Greco, aka “Dice”, to lower the front bucket of Heston’s backhoe and push the last body into the oversized grave they’d dug with the twenty-four-inch bucket.
Fletcher shook his head, knowing that calling it a body was a stretch. It was more along the lines of a thirty-pound hunk of meat, completely unidentifiable, as were most of the other pieces already in the hole. Many of the parts belonged to friends of his, though it was impossible to know which chunk belonged to which friend.
The Scabs had shredded the men on all three sides of the monthly meet: Heston’s, Frost’s, and Edison’s, using their collective power to destroy almost everyone. It was a strength in numbers approach—their usual tactic.
Or perhaps the correct analogy would be it was a function of physics—an unstoppable force type thing. Fletcher wasn’t sure. Regardless, the Scabs’ sheer, overwhelming numbers had resulted in an army of scrawny muscles and jagged teeth coming together in unison, mowing down everything in their path.
Even if some of his former colleagues had survived, Fletcher wasn’t sure how many of them would have stood behind him when he announced that he was taking over. Some may have stood firm and pledged their allegiance to Frost, even after the man’s early demise.
Either way, Fletcher wanted to grieve for them, but he couldn’t allow his heart to go there. A warrior must continue on. Never show weakness, no matter what happens.
The four-wheel drive John Deere backhoe had done an admirable job cutting through the hard-packed ground behind the command post, near the rear of Heston’s compound.
Its turbo-charged engine and extend-a-hoe upgrade was precisely what they needed to complete the dig. Dice ran the machine with obvious expertise, sitting inside the cab, working the control sticks with ease until the job was done.
“Gotta love life’s little ironies,” Fletcher said in an amplified voice after Dice throttled-down the hydraulic beast, letting the sarcasm bleed through his words.
Dice turned off the engine and unbuckled the seat belt, then got out of the cab and climbed to the ground. “What do you mean?”
“Just last month, I questioned Frost about the extra fuel delivery to Heston. Had I only known then what I know today, I never would have said dick.”
“It was a risk, no doubt. I’m sure there have been plenty of our brothers who wanted to question that man over the years.”
“Slayer’s name comes to mind, for one. Poor bastard.”
“And Horton, too.”
“Roger that.”
Dice nodded. “At least you took action.”
“Almost too late.”
“Hey, we’re the ones still breathing. That’s all that counts, even though things didn’t exactly go according to plan.”