There was a second shot, and another man stood up, grabbing at his neck as blood gushed out between his fingers. A third shot knocked the man down for good.
Kellerson’s men were returning fire in the direction of the second gunman now. The man was leaning out from behind a white van with “Arnold’s Plumbing” stenciled across the side, along with a cartoon picture of a toilet with a smiley face. The shooter, also wearing dark black (assault vest?), had slipped behind the van to dodge the return volley. Bullets stitched the side of the van and shattered windows.
Will quickly came out from behind the Suburban and moved steadily up the highway, using the distraction to his advantage. The phrase “The enemy of my enemy is my friend” rushed across his mind.
He flicked the fire selector on the M4A1 back to semi-auto as he spotted the closest man in a hazmat suit to him, standing behind a Dodge Ram. The man was reloading his M4, desperately trying to jam the magazine in but having a difficult time lining it up. Will shot the man twice in the back and watched him disappear behind the truck.
Another man in a hazmat suit stood up from behind a brown Buick, directly in front of Will. The man was lifting his rifle and spinning around, but Will beat him to it and shot him once in the chest. The man staggered backward but didn’t go down. Will saw the familiar rectangular lump of a Kevlar vest over the man’s chest and shot him again, this time in the face.
Two figures flashed across his peripheral vision, moving out from cars in front of him. The white-clad men raced across the lane toward the concrete barrier. One of them threw himself over it so fast he tripped and fell down on the other side. Someone shot the second man in the back before he could make the jump, and he stumbled and comically hit his forehead on the concrete divider, sliding down it face-first.
Will hurried out from behind the Buick and glanced over at the plumbing van, seeing a familiar face grinning back at him over the distance.
Sonofabitch.
Will returned the man’s grin, then jogged over to the barrier and leaped over it, landing on the other side. He moved up quickly toward the hazmat suit that had stumbled and fallen. There were fresh blood splatters along this side of the highway, most likely from the blond he had shot earlier.
He found a man in a hazmat suit lying on his back near the divider, still alive and holding on to his right arm, which was twisted at an odd, unnatural angle. One of the man’s knees was scraped and bloodied, and his M4 rifle lay forgotten at his feet. The man looked over as Will jogged toward him, and for a moment — just a moment — Will was sure he would reach for his weapon.
But he didn’t. Instead, the man lay still until Will was finally standing over him.
Will looked past the man and up the highway, and spotted another hazmat suit-clad figure lying on its stomach about ten meters farther up the northbound lane. The blond he had shot earlier. The poor bastard had apparently run into someone else who had finished him off.
Will turned his attention back to the man at his feet. He was in his forties, and in another time, another place, Will would have pegged him as a husband with two kids, a house in the suburbs, and a wife that constantly browbeat him about drinking or smoking too much. The guy looked completely average and plain.
“Kellerson?” Will said.
The man grinned up at him. “Shit, you cheated. You had reinforcements.”
“In my defense, I didn’t know they were coming.”
“That right?” Kellerson said.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, then, I guess that changes everything.” Kellerson sighed. “So what happens now?”
Will pulled a silver-chromed.45 Smith & Wesson revolver out of Kellerson’s holster. “Nice gun.”
“Thanks. I stole it.”
“I figured.”
“Then again, is it really stealing if it’s just lying there?”
“Probably not.”
Will heard footsteps and looked over at a blond in his mid-twenties coming toward him from the other side of the barrier. He was wearing a stripped-down black assault vest and throat mic rig, and was holding a Glock in his hand. He looked almost shell-shocked.
“You good?” Will asked.
The guy stared back at him, as if unsure how to respond. Finally, he nodded and said, “I think I’m okay.”
“Okay’s always good.”
“You must be Will,” he said.
“I must be. Got a name?”
“Roy.”
Will nodded at the dead blond. “You?”
“Yeah, he sort of just ran into me,” Roy said, almost embarrassed. “I got really lucky.”
“You’re one of the newbies that showed up on the island. You came with Bonnie and the others.”
“Yeah.”
“Nice work, Roy.”
“Thanks. I was just doing what Danny told me.”
Danny appeared, eating beef jerky out of an Oberto bag, his rifle slung over his shoulder. He looked as if he were on a casual stroll. “Well, well, well, look who I gone and stumbled across. You look like shit, buddy.”
“Good to see you, too,” Will said. “How’s Lara?”
“She’s miffed. But good. Bossing the whole island around while you were gone.”
“That’s my girl.”
“I keep telling her to move on, that she’s way too good for you. You never call, you never write, you never visit. You’re no damn good, I say. She could do so much better.”
“You’re a real pal, Danny.”
“My advice? Put on a cup before you step back onto Song Island.”
“Noted.”
Danny glanced down the highway. “I saw someone else with you back there. Wouldn’t happen to be Gaby, would it?”
“Gaby?” Will looked back at him. “Isn’t she back at the island? She left me days ago.”
“She didn’t show up. That’s why I’m out here. Lara sent me to come looking for you two idiots.”
Will frowned. “I don’t know where she is.”
“From what I can tell, she had major ghoul trouble at a pawnshop off the highway where she was staying. It looked like a hell of a fight. That’s where we were coming from when we heard your little spontaneous block party up here.”
Gaby.
Dammit. He was hoping at least one of them had made it back home.
“You found blood at the pawnshop?” Will asked.
“A lot, yeah,” Danny said.
“Shit.”
“You talking about the blonde?” Kellerson said. “Josh’s girl.”
Will looked down at him. “What do you know about it?”
“Lots.”
“Bullshit.”
“Blonde. Five-seven. Gorgeous. Hard to forget a piece of ass like that.”
Will and Danny exchanged a look, before Will focused his stare back on Kellerson. “Is she alive?”
“Last time I saw her,” Kellerson said.
“When was this?”
“A day ago.”
“The blood back there was old,” Danny said. “At least two days. If he saw her a day ago, that means she’s still alive.”
“What else do you know?” Will asked.
Kellerson grinned back at him. “Why should I tell you? You’re just going to kill me anyway. Howzabout we make a deal first. I tell you what I know, and we forget this little unfortunate incident ever happened. What do you say?”
“Danny,” Will said, “there’s someone down the highway. Her name’s Zoe. I don’t know if she’s still alive or not. Behind the Bronco.”
“Come on, kid,” Danny said to Roy. “Let’s go lend a hand.”
“What’s he gonna do?” Roy asked.
“Don’t worry about it. Willie boy’s a real smooth talker when he wants to be. How’d you think he got Lara in the first place?”