BREN

I closed my eyes and braced myself against the bullet, expecting it to pass through my head, or if Drucker still had a cruel bone left, he'd go for my heart, right through my aorta, and let me bleed out to death right there on the floor. Instead, Drucker cried out. When I opened my eyes, an arrow pierced through the back of Drucker's hand, diverting his aim a few inches to the side, the bullet hitting the cross looming behind me.

And that's when Haskell struck.

Like a predator smelling injured prey, Haskell latched on top of Drucker, tearing into his arm, putting all his weight to pin the man down with his hands still bound behind his back. Aria and Paloma hauled Yousef off the pew and ran, dragging the boy with them toward the back, where Noodle urged them to hide up in the balcony. Peter and Logan shot at where the soldiers took cover while Olson and Murray returned fire. Gunshots rang across the worship hall, blending with Haskell's shrieks and Drucker's desperate screams.

Olson gaped, hands shaking as he watched Haskell took another bite out of Drucker's arm. With the infected blood shooting him with adrenaline and fury, Haskell tore his wrists off his bounds, tearing a few of his skin in the process, and proceeded to beat Drucker with his freed fists. That was when Olson bolted.

I saw the knife sheathed on Olson's belt, and I stuck my leg out, tripping him onto his face. Swinging my legs, I planted my feet on the ground and stood up, turning around and smashed the back of the chair on top of Olson's body. He let out a loud grunt and a whimper, hitting him right on the gut. I managed to grab the knife's handle and pulled it out of the sheathe a split second before Olson pushed my chair off of him. I went with the momentum, rolling to my side, and I fervently slashed the binds lose.

Drucker managed to push Haskell off and crawled under the pews to get away from him. Haskell took a step back, flailing to regain his balance, but his back ankles stuck my chair, and he toppled over me...and landed on top of Olson.

Finding new meat, he tore through Olson's shoulder as the soldier screamed.

"Chris!" Murray screamed. Left with no choice, he sprayed a hail of bullets to suppress Logan and Peter behind cover, darting across the hall to where Drucker kept crawling. He merely had to follow the blood trail to find him and pulled him out of the row. "Come on! Let's get out of here!" Murray dragged Drucker into the hallway.

Olson's screams slowly died down.

And there! I felt it. The binds loosened, and I could finally feel the blood rushing back into my hands normally. I curled and uncurled my fist a couple of times as I got up to my feet, trying to reorient myself.

"Bren! Over here!" Logan shouted.

I followed his voice and found him waving at me from the entrance.

Then, Haskell lifted his head, flesh stuck between his teeth, and his eyes landed on me. I knew what he wanted. Beneath Haskell, Olson was starting to stir awake.

Gripping my knife, I scampered in the other direction, toward where Drucker and Murray had gone to as Haskell sprung to his feet and ran after me. Bullets followed his wake, hitting him on the shoulder and the hip, but not enough to put him down. One arrow struck him on the arm, but that didn't even bother him. Haskell merely broke the jutting tail end and kept running.

Drucker's blood trails led to the left. I didn't think it would be a good idea to hide beside another infected, and Drucker's injuries might be serious. He could turn in three minutes or three hours, but I was not going to risk it. I turned right and slammed straight into Walters and Isaacs.

"What the fuck!" Walters exclaimed. When he recognized who I was—the prisoner—he raised his rifle, ready to shoot when Haskell launched onto his back and tore through his throat. Walters's finger was still on the trigger, and he littered the wall with a spray of bullets before Haskell took him down.

"No!" Isaacs screamed, grabbing for his gun. But Olson slid into the hallway and slammed against the wall. He couldn't get enough traction to run, soaked in his own blood, scrambling to get up to his feet as his eyes remained transfixed on us. The sight was enough to render Isaacs frozen.

I ran toward the cafeteria. The other soldier realized he should run too and followed after me. It was too late to close the double doors, too late to stand up and fight. The only thing was to put as much distance between them and me until I could think of another way to deal with them. As I burst through the cafeteria doors, so did the vectors, inches away from touching my back.

I ducked and scrambled under the table, sliding to the opposite side as Haskell jumped on top, trying to flank me below. Isaacs ran toward the kitchen, and I followed him, but Haskell was fast, able to keep up with every shift and turn I made, keeping an arm's length away from grabbing me. Olson was farther, but he's gaining ground.

Isaacs was about to close the door.

"Oh, no, you fucking won't!" I slammed my entire weight on the door, throwing Isaacs back against the island counters; the violent motion stirred the pans off their hinges and fell on top of him. One hit him at the side of the head, and Isaacs fell on the floor. He didn't move, but he was still breathing.

"They're coming!" Miguel screeched and bolted toward the door, slamming it close before Haskell could reach it. Pressing his body against it, Haskell kept pounding with his fists, shrieking that his prey had eluded him. Olson joined in the ruckus.

Miguel turned the lock, but he didn't dare let go of the door in case the vectors were strong enough to tear it off its hinges. There was nowhere to hide in this kitchen but the back door into the alley, and we needed the master's key to open that. "Charlene, Aubrey, take the kids into that closet over there. Don't come out!" Miguel said. Aubrey and Charlene nodded, dashing toward the door with the kids and Bernadette in tow.

Through the metal shutters, an infected Walters entered the cafeteria and saw the others pounding against the kitchen door and joined in the frenzy.

I tried to catch my breath and turned to Miguel. "Listen. We need to deal with them before they find a way to—"

Miguel's eyes widened. "Look out!"

I ducked as a meat tenderizer swung over my head. Taggart loomed, eyes scowled with fury, demanding my blood. I took a step back, gripped my knife tighter as Taggart moved closer.

"This is your fault! Your friend was infected!" Taggart screeched.

A patter and ding against the hanging racks, and Taggart and I looked up what it was. I only caught a mere shadow before Riki jumped on top of Taggart's face and scratched him. Taggart yelped and flailed to get the animal off him, its claws drawing blood across his face.

"Riki!" I exclaimed.

But the little fur ball had nothing against the giant, and Taggart merely pried the beast off his face and threw him toward the sink counter. Riki screeched, flailing in the air, hitting his body onto the faucet, and fell into the sink. I could still hear him struggling to get out of the deep well.

But I found an opportunity.

The blade danced in my hand, reminding me to keep it light and agile, fast and deep, cutting him by the arm then back again only deeper, took a thrust to his side, but I missed him by an inch and merely grazed him below his armpit. At least I drew blood, but I couldn't possibly defeat him with a thousand cuts nor a thousand more. I didn't expect him to sidestep so quickly, given his size. Shit. I took a step back, trying to find another in for an attack, perhaps something that could slow him down.

I had to go for the legs.

But Taggart kept swinging the tenderizer again, and I ducked, missing my head by a hair-length away, but by the third, he anticipated my move. Once I ducked low enough to slash his knees, Taggart slammed his elbow on my back, the force bringing me down to my knees, and I dropped the knife.

With his free hand, he grabbed my throat, lifting me off the floor, and threw me onto the service counter next to the lattice shutters. The vectors, catching my position, ran over to where I am, trying to lift the shutters open. Olson tried to get his hands through the lattice, but they were too small for even his two fingers to go through, much less his entire hand and arm. I tried to wriggle out of my position, but Taggart was strong (stronger than Peter by a mile).

But Haskell found just the right grip through the lattice and lifted the shutters.

"Oh, fuck!" I managed to yell.

"You killed them!" Taggart screamed through his rage, saliva foaming through his gritted teeth. He squeezed his fingers around my throat.

The security mechanism suddenly kicked in, and the shuttered lifted a few inches off the counter, enough for Haskell and the others to stick their arms in, reaching for my arm. I propped my shoes against the shutters, trying not to slide into the gap for the vectors to tear into me. Walters tried to bite the rubber soles through the gap, and his teeth barely made a dent through the barrier.

Suddenly, A frying pan hovered above Taggart's head. Bernadette snuck behind the soldier and slammed it at the back of his head. I felt Taggart's grip loosened. It was enough for me to writhe and pry his hands off me, grabbed his jacket collar, and pulled him toward the shutters. Twice I slammed his head against the metal, twisting to get out of his way, and landed back on my feet. Before he could reorient himself, I grabbed Bernadette's pan from her hand and struck him over the head.

Taggart smashed his face on the counter within the vectors' reach. They grabbed his head and shoulders, pulling him into the gap. But Taggart was a big dude, barely could fit his shoulders through the narrow gap. Only his head stuck out. It didn't matter. It was enough for Haskell and the others. Walters tore off his ears. Olson bit off his nose. Haskell sank his fingers into Taggart's eye sockets. The soldier's screams were haunting, his voice box rattling like a shrieking banshee. Anyone a mile away could have heard it, like a siren going off in the storm.

I was about to look away when I caught sight of his gun holstered on his hip. I pulled it off the holster and shot Taggart through the back of the neck (the only thing exposed from my end of the shutters), not wanting to hear more of his freakish screams.

Logan, Peter, and Jun stormed into the cafeteria. "Everyone, get down!" Peter shouted.

I pulled Bernadette down behind the counter. Miguel did the same from behind the door. Three pops of bullets rang in the air, one after the other, eating flesh. Once silence returned, I stood up and found Olson and Walters both slumped on the ground, dead. Haskell remained, staring at the others with seething fury.

"What are you waiting for? Shoot him!" Bernadette shouted.

But Peter hesitated, hands trembling. He couldn't go through with it.

Haskell rushed toward them, and Jun let loose an arrow where it struck Haskell on the face.

We walked out of the kitchen, Aubrey shielding her children's eyes from the carnage as we came out into the hallway. I pulled Riki out of the sink, and though he was a bit rattled, I was surprised he even moved like there was not a broken bone on his body. Perhaps ferrets were like cats, agile and flexible.

"Gus is worried about you, little explorer, you," I said. I was too scared to squeeze him tightly once I put him inside my pocket. He seemed to like it and cozied in there. "He'll be thrilled to see you once again."

Logan strode toward me and took me into his arms, his lips close to my ears, whispering, "I thought you were screwed."

"You weren't late," I said.

"I thought we were. It was Peter who wanted to ambush them. I wanted so bad just to rush down here and get you out."

"Thank God you didn't. You'd be dead."

"We lost Holly," he said, frowning. "And Hoss."

I looked over to where Haskell's body lay. "He wanted to help."

"I think he got what he wanted," Peter said, sidling next to me. I pulled out of Logan's embrace and hugged him. I felt Peter's arms snake around the back, holding me close. I was glad about that.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'll be fine. I...I froze. I wanted to do it, but I..."

"Hey. Easy. You don't have to explain it."

"But, Bren, I froze." Peter held my hand.

"It's okay. It happens. The situation is fucked up as it is, so don't beat yourself with it."

Peter didn't say anything further, but he never let go of my hand. I could feel it trembling.

"This one is still alive," Jun said from the kitchen, kneeling beside Isaacs. "Unconscious, but okay."

"Just watch him close," Logan said. He turned to Miguel. "Hey, you are a sight for sore eyes!"

Miguel chuckled. "And here I thought l lost you all."

Logan scoffed. "Ha! You can't get rid of us that easily."

"I'm not expecting you to." Then, Miguel walked over to Peter, putting his hand on the boy's arm. "I'm sorry for your loss, man."

"Uh, thanks." Peter shrugged his hand off, uncomfortable by the attention. I nodded to Miguel to let him be. For now.

Miguel turned his attention to me instead. "Bren, they mentioned you have the RV? You have Cora?" Miguel asked. "How?"

"Found it on the street."

"That easy?"

"That easy."

"Wow. I never thought we would recover it. At least I got my stuff back."

"So is...Randy dead?" Aubrey asked, but she sounded too hopeful, not worried at all.

"Yes."

A small smile crept on her lips. "That's...good. I hope that fucker suffered."

"I mean, he did," Logan said. "We got the CCTV cameras around the RV, and it caught everything. You're free to watch it."

I poked Logan's shoulder, wanting him to shut up. He scowled at me but then bit his tongue when he saw my face. He said more than he should. "How about we think of our current situation and get the fuck out of here?" I said, but I realized I let out a curse and looked at the two girls. Aubrey was unfazed, and both Wanda and Diana giggled at my gaff. "Sorry, girls. That's for grown-ups only."

Wanda pointed at Miguel, stifling her giggles. "He says it for millions."

Blood rushed to Miguel's cheeks, but before he could defend himself, Charlene asked, "What about the other soldiers?"

Logan shook his head. "No. That captain and the other guy are still alive, but Deon, Noodle, and Edgar had them pinned down in the pastor's office. There's no way out of there but the windows."

"Then, let's go there and finish this. Who knows how many vectors heard all that gunfire, but I reckon many of them are converging on our location. After all, we're near the downtown area."

And I was not looking forward to facing a horde's onslaught.

——

They had camped inside the pastor's office and hadn't come out for the past twenty minutes now. A few bullets littered the wall and the door, some from my guys and some from Drucker and Murray. I wondered why they hadn't escaped through the windows yet until I realized it overlooked the courtyard. I ordered Alfie and Gus to watch out for the windows in case they tried that way. Gus had Riki back again, nestled on his shoulder, and he gave him a few bits of jerky as a treat after all the beating the little mustelid took.

As of five minutes ago, Drucker hadn't turned yet, and I hadn't heard of Murray putting him down, so I had to consider both of them were still alive, dangerous, and with a bullet left to put one between our eyes if we as so much as taking a peek into the room.

I had to be quick.

"You don't have to do this," I said. "You don't have to make it harder on yourselves. Come out now, and maybe we could end this. Peacefully, I hope. For both our sakes."

"Well, if you want it so badly, why don't you try coming in here?" Murray said, egging me on.

"If I do that, I bet I'll get a bullet to my face."

A pause.

"Your loss then."

This piece of shit. I turned to Logan. "I don't think they're coming out. We might have to really shoot our way in."

"Fine by me," said Miguel. Deon and Noddle nodded to each other while Jun remained quiet. Peter stood at the side, watching the door intensely. He hadn't said a word since we got out of the cafeteria, and though it bothered me, I didn't want to deal with it until I got rid of the remaining soldiers in the church.

"We can just leave now. We have the RV, the keys, we have everyone," Noodle suggested.

I shook my head. "If we leave, they'll call it in. Cora is a distinct vehicle. I guarantee it'll stand out on the street come daylight tomorrow, especially during Reclamation Day. Those two saw her for real, knew her description, and they could relay that to the other patrols, perhaps another platoon who wanted a hand on her. If the other soldiers spotted us on the street, especially in downtown or at the bridge we need to cross, they're going to flag us, and we're toast. We need to deal with them pronto."

The others went silent and tried to think of another idea.

"Maybe we need a different tactic," Logan said.

"Like what?"

"Antagonize them? Not like shoot em' and kill em,' guns blazing and stuff. You know. Talk smack. You've been chummy with them since we got here, and who knows how long we have before the vectors start banging on our doors."

He has a point. "Alright. Different tactics. Aggression. But...like what?"

Logan thought for a moment, but even he gave up. There was nothing else in mind except shooting through the walls and hoping for the best that one of the bullets hit them, which would be a waste when our resources were getting thin. I didn't know how long we had until that giant horde they were warning people about on the news arrived in the city. When they're here, we needed all the guns and ammo we had at our disposal. I had to play this as a long game. Victory and survival weren't always cinched in the small battles. The long war would often take a grim toll. How does the saying go again? Life's a marathon, not a sprint?

Eventually, Logan gave up. "Ah, you're the Red Wolf. You're the idea guy. I mean, what will your dad do?"

A flutter in my belly and a smile lit up on my face.

Logan narrowed his gaze at me. "You got something?"

"Eh. It'll be something," I said. I turned my attention to the pastor's office. "Hey. You two still alive?"

A longer pause.

"Just fuck off and leave us alone. You can go run to the RV now and leave us behind," Murray said.

"Yeah, not gonna happen, bud. Listen, do you know who I am?"

"A dumbass ginger fuckwit who is dense and brainless enough to keep someone in their group infected!" It was Drucker's turn to shout, still alive and kicking. "You get bit, and you turn into one of them. What concept do you not understand by that? It's science! You should have killed him a long time ago! This is your fault! Your fault that I'm bit!"

"You have no one to blame but yourself. Call that karma."

"Fuck off!"

I turned to Logan, pretending to gag, and said, "He's charming."

"Yeah. If you're Mussolini."