CHAPTER 10

It’s snowing again. Big, fat, wet flakes that stick to my eyelashes like icicles. I blink the dampness away as I stare up at the gray clouds, hoping to find some patch of blue poking through, but there’s nothing. The overcast sky reflects my mood.

None of us who heard Sam’s confession last night slept a wink. What he told us wasn’t exactly the right sort of bedtime story to send us off to a peaceful night’s slumber. Being told an alien creature, connected to hundreds of others, wants us dead is not something you can get out of your head that easily.

There’s no proof it’s true. We really don’t know if there is some super creepy queen morphing in some building somewhere waiting patiently to wipe us out like it has an agenda. We can’t prove it’s true. Problem is we can’t prove it’s not true. Maybe it’s all made up by Sam’s fried brain. Or maybe he really is connected like the fucking Borg. I seriously hope that’s not the case. It terrifies me to think of Sam being turned into some mindless drone being controlled by the Collective. And fuck Gordo for putting that damn analogy into my head. Ever since last night it’s all I can think off. Damn ginger geekazoid.

All I know is I’ve been looking over my shoulder all morning at the slightest sound. All of us privy to last night’s confession are. Luke isn’t taking any chances. Without going into detail, he has unit four on high alert. They all know something’s up, even if he hasn’t had a chance to fill them in. We were up and on the move before dawn. Like he said, under that bridge we were sitting ducks. Best to move and stay out of sight. All morning he’s had us flanking the group on all sides, weapons ready, and the instructions to fire at anything that moves in the trees surrounding the highway.

“How much farther?” someone mutters from the pack behind us, and I turn to the whiner to give them a piece of my mind. I mean, really? They’re going to play that game after we saved their asses?

Maybe it’s the sight of Amy glued to Sam’s side, her big, hopeful eyes watching me for an answer. Maybe it’s seeing the rest of them all huddled together, soaked and miserable and trying to stay on their feet in the mushy snow. Injured and limping and scarred forever by their trauma. Whatever it is, I finally look past my own misery to theirs and bite my tongue to keep the surly words from dropping. I don’t have to say anything, however. Morley falls into step between me and Luke, walking backwards to address the crowd.

“Relax, my friends. We will get there eventually. I know you all don’t think that right now. You’re wet, exhausted, and don’t want to take another step. All of us hate our current circumstances; trust me. But we are alive. Take comfort in that for many of our people are not here to say the same.”

His words are met with a few coughs and murmurs of shame. He turns around, allowing them their disgrace without censure, although the wink he shoots me makes me believe his wise words are all just a ploy. A grin lifts the corner of my mouth.

“Great passive-aggressive speech, dude. You sure you weren’t a shrink in your former life?”

“Nah, just a dad to three unruly teenagers.” His grin drops away as the realization sets in that he no longer plays that role. I fucking hate that—life sucker punching you in the gut when you least expect it. His quiet pain is quickly covered by another grin. “If these past few years have shown me anything, it’s how to turn someone’s irritation and anger into guilt. It’s a great motivator.” He claps me on the shoulder. “But seriously, though, how much farther?”

“Shouldn’t be long now before we meet the trucks. We’re about halfway to the farm.” Luke answers for me.

Morley glances at him, one eyebrow raised. “Are you sure about this farm, big guy? I mean, from the few things I’ve heard about this place and the lady in charge, it sounds more like a cult than a haven. That Dom fellow tells me this Kip has a few screws loose.”

I huff in irritation. “Please. Everything that comes out of Dom’s mouth is a crock of buttered shit. If he’d been invited to the Last Supper, for Christ’s sake, he’d have convinced himself that Jesus was out to poison him. If anyone has screws loose, it’s him.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s blasphemy. And anyway, he told me you’d say shit about him, too. Good to see you all get along so well.” Morley doesn’t even try to hide his sarcasm. “I’m surprised you’ve all managed to survive this long.”

Luke shakes his head, trying to hide his laughter. “Don’t let those two idiots fool you.” He ignores my indignant, “Hey,” at being called an idiot. “Our unit really is a well-oiled machine. Those two just like to piss on the cogs and rust them up every now and again.”

“Weird symbolism, but whatever.” Morley shrugs as he glances around. “Maybe what I should be asking about is what’s really going on with you lot today? The whispering amongst yourselves. You two looking over your shoulders like you expect the devil himself to pop outta the ground. The strange, dark-haired guy over there holding onto the kid like he expects her to be ripped away at any moment. Care to share what’s happening?”

Luke scratches at his stubble, and his eyes meet mine over Morley’s head. “That obvious, huh?”

“Just a tad.”

Luke glances back at the crowd, checking to see if there’s any chance of being overheard. We’re far enough ahead.

“It’s a long story.”

“Well, how about you give me the condensed version?”

“Okay, condensed it is. Sam—strange, dark-haired guy to you—has a history with the leeches. We believe he’s connected to them. And besides the leeches we’ve come to know, there’s a new breed. Hybrids, ones we call queen leeches.”

“Those bastards we saw in the subway?”

Luke gives a curt nod. “We believe they’re all controlled by a collective mind, very similar to a beehive, that dictates the leeches’ behavior. Sam, possibly, hears or senses these orders. He knows when the leeches are around. The hybrids, anyway. Sam thinks there’s a main one in control of it all. Apparently, this super mind is aware of us. It knows we’ve hunted and killed its kind. Now, it aims to do the same. He believes the orders have gone out to every leech connected to its hive to hunt us down. That’s why we’re a little off today. The faster we get to those trucks and off the road, the better.”

Morley utters a low whistle, resting his hand on the axe hanging at his hip, as if assuring himself it’s still there. “Condensed but damn powerful. Just when I thought I heard everything there is to hear about those beasties, you go and tell me something like this? I’m not quite sure I understand or even believe everything, but maybe you should have told me this earlier. We probably would have taken our chances with the city.”

I feel a twinge of guilt. He’s right. We should have told him everything before he uprooted his people to follow us.

“There’s nothing but death back in the city now.” Luke doesn’t seem to be feeling the same guilt. “You know that as well as we do. Between the lack of supplies and increasing leeches, you and your people would die. At least the farm will give you a fighting chance.”

“Jesus don’t mince words or anything,” I drawl, but Morley nods at Luke’s words.

“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right. There’s no going back now. We must move forward. I just hope you’re not lying to me about the cult leader. I’m a bit too old and jaded to be finding religion.”

I snort. “They can preach religion to me all day as long as they feed me more of that bacon.”

“What?” His eyes widen, and his mouth drops open in disbelief. “Did you just say bacon? As in the real deal, Miss Piggy kind?”

I laugh harder. “Yeah, dude. They have bacon. Buckets of it.”

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s move ass.”

He struts ahead of us up the icy hill, and I watch his back with that silly grin still plastered to my face. “I kinda like him,” I say to Luke.

A tiny grin lifts the corner of Luke’s mouth. “Me too. He’s an oddball, no doubt. But I kind of like oddballs.” He glances my way.

I lift a brow, tilting my head. “Awwww, you saying you like me, Whitman?”

“You admitting you’re an oddball, Emma?”

“I prefer unique.”

“How about we go with one of a kind?”

I pretend to think about it. “Yeah, I can live with that. Just not you calling me Emma.”

He laughs. That rich baritone I’ve missed so much, and a warm fuzziness grows in my chest, despite the cold turning my extremities to ice. That feeling lasts until I look back over my shoulder and catch sight of Sam struggling to help Amy walk through the slush. My old friend guilt comes to visit once again. I should be back there, helping with her, but Luke needs every abled person to keep watch after Sam’s confession last night. The guilt still overwhelms me, and I shut down the frivolous convo with Luke. No time for flirting or whatever the hell it is we’re doing.

I ignore Luke’s confused look as I continue on in silence, catching up to Morley as we crest the top of the rise. Below us on the lonesome stretch of highway sits a sight for sore eyes. Three of Kip’s faded green army trucks wait patiently for our arrival, like beacons of light through the dreary, gray day.

“About fucking time,” I mutter, my lips curving in a tiny smile of relief.

“They’re here. The trucks are just down the hill.” Luke’s bellow is met with whoops and shouts of joy. Everyone is exhausted, mentally and physically. We’re so ready to get off our feet.

I raise an arm in greeting to Polly as we draw closer. She waits at the front of the lead truck and flashes me her horsey smile in return. Lewis hovers at her side, his scowl in place as usual. I can see his disposition hasn’t changed any since the first time we met when he rescued us from the horde in Maple Haven, and then threatened to throw us from the truck. He’s still as sour as a lemon slice dipped in vinegar. But not even his frowning mug can dampen my mood. Our walk is finally over.

I’m so intent on relieving my aching feet, I’m not prepared for the look of horror creasing Polly’s face or the gun barrel suddenly pointing my way.

“What the hell, Polly?” I start, but then I feel it. The thrumming in the earth resonates in my aching bones all the way up to my teeth. The ground shifts slightly under my feet, as if there’s a herd of elephants heading our way. Or one fucking, massive horde.

I pivot on my heel, a toxin of terror blazing through my veins.

They emerge from the trees like ants evacuating a smoking anthill, filling up the fields at an alarming rate and running over each other in their frenzy to reach us. Leeches. Hundreds of them. Their combined gurgling saturates the morning air with its wet, sickly sound. The cold dread blooms in my belly and spreads like wildfire. We’re fucked.

“Get in the trucks!”

Polly’s bellow wakes me from my frozen stupor. Realization sets in for the others as well and panic replaces comprehension. Fear raw on their faces, they run screaming down the hill towards the trucks and Kip’s people.

I search the panicked crowd for Sam and Amy. I find them pushing through the throng, heading my way. Sam’s fearful gaze locks with mine.

“Get her to safety,” I yell over the screaming. Indecision mixes with the panic on his face.

He wants nothing more than to fight at my side I know, but Amy won’t move without him. She comes first. We both know that. Her life depends on him right now.

“I’ll be right behind you,” I call out.

“You better,’ he yells back. He turns from me and joins with the crowd, his sister in tow.

“Get everyone in the trucks,” Luke hurls the order at Jonesy and Cookie, and both jump into action at his command. “The rest of you with me. We need to keep these fuckers at bay long enough to buy the others time.”

We spread out along the shoulder of the road, the trucks at our backs and flanking the field and woods giving birth to the beasties. I glance over at Polly, yelling at her above the chaos of panic. “Hope you guys brought plenty of ammo ‘cause we’re running on fumes here.”

“I think ammo is the least of our worries,” she shouts. I follow her terrified gaze. She’s right. There’s no end in sight to the putrefied bodies hurtling our way. Shambling hordes of hungry horrors descending on us like locusts. So fucking many of them. Where the hell did they come from?

“Everyone!” Luke’s bellow tears my attention away for a split second. “Once the others are off the road, run for a truck. Do not play hero, understood? Get yourselves to safety.”

No one gets a chance to respond. The leeches are in range now, and gunfire explodes around me like I’ve just been slam dunked into a nest of angry hornets. I have no idea if Sam and Amy are safe. No idea if any of them are safe. There’s no time to process what’s happening on the road behind me. I focus on the leeches and the one thought in my head. Blow as many of these fucking assholes away as I can.

A dark red soon stains the icy field. I gag a million times over as heads explode and bursts of gore and crimson mist the air. But still they keep coming.

“I’m out,” Gordo yells just as a woman leaps from the deep grass of the field and up over the embankment. Her emaciated body hits the pavement with a sickening crack as her ankle snaps and the jagged bone rips through the skin, sticking sideways out of her blue shoe. It does nothing to slow her down, or the worm as it ejects from the torn, bloodied mouth. The teeth snap at Gordo and the kid ducks out of the woman’s clawed reach. I fire, but my hands are shaking so badly I miss the target. Instead, a bloody hole blooms in the thing’s shoulder, spraying fragments of blood and red tissue through the exit wound. The woman staggers off balance but keeps coming.

“Fuck!” I scream and aim again as it rights itself and veers for me.

Too close. Can’t make the shot. Almost on top of me now, I swing the stock of my rifle into the leech’s jaw. It’s head snaps and it rears back. I smash the weapon into its face a second time. It staggers, and I keep battering at it again and again until its face is a bloody pulp of flesh. Coppery wetness speckles my face and lips. Wiping the blood from my eyes with my sleeve, I yell at Gordo over the staccato of gunfire.

“Get to a truck.”

He moves fast. He doesn’t argue. Without a weapon, he’s a liability.

I aim for my next target, no time to check and see if Gordon made it, but the hollow click echoes back at me. I’m empty, too. Throwing the gun aside, I pull my knives and take a stand. I know Luke told us not to play hero, but I can’t desert them. I’m better with the knives, anyway.

“Guys come on!”

Sam appears at my side, and I whirl on him with wild eyes. He grabs my hand, pulling the knife down to my waist.

“Amy?” I cry.

“She’s safe. We gotta go”

I glance back over my shoulder. Two of the trucks filled with our people are already on the move, the third rolling slowly as Lewis waves at us frantically from the driver’s side of the cab, telling us in no uncertain terms to move our asses or miss our ride.

“Luke,” I yell, pointing to the truck once I get his attention.

“Fall back,” he orders, and we bust our asses toward the last truck.

Morley and Jonesy stand on either side of the open tailgate, hands outstretched, urging us to run faster, but I can’t hear them over the blood pounding in my ears. I don’t know if the others are behind me, or how close the leeches are. I focus on the faces of the people in the truck bed, memories of being throttled by the last fucking leech that chased me down invading my head. Panic makes my vision go blurry as the truck appears to spurt ahead. Is Lewis pulling away? Fuck no. He can’t leave us behind. I can’t be caught again. These bastards are out for blood. I won’t survive the next encounter with one. None of us will.

Adrenaline shoots through me and I lunge forward, my lungs burning and my chest heaving. I reach out, latching onto Jonesy’s hand. He tugs hard, and my body flies over the tailgate and past him as I fall and skin my knees on the truck bed. I roll to my feet, reaching out to help pull Polly to safety. Robyn and Mike are dragged in next, with Dom and Badger right on their heels. I get knocked sideways as Dom nearly barrels me over. Pushing him out of my way, I search the tailgate for the familiar two faces. They’re still outside with the horde.

The truck spurts ahead again, and I grab onto Polly, screaming into her face as I watch Luke and Sam struggling to catch up, the leeches breathing down their necks.

“What the fuck is he doing? We don’t have everyone yet.”

“We need to go,” Polly answers. “They’re catching up.”

“No. Lewis, slow down.” I try to yell over the noise, but my command gets ripped away by the wind. I scream louder, reaching with my hands toward the two men running for their lives.

“Come on. Run!”

Sam spurts ahead, arm outstretched, and latches onto Morley’s forearm. Badger hooks Sam’s other wrist, and I sigh in relief as they both yank him up over the tailgate and into the truck.

My relief is short lived. I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to stifle the scream on my lips. Luke lags as a leech advances on him so close it’s practically on his back. The carnivorous worm explodes out, diving for his neck. Luke jerks in response as the blade-like teeth narrowly miss his jugular and dig into his jacket.

“Does anyone still have ammo?” My shriek is pure panic. “Someone take that bastard down now!”

I don’t know who the savior is, but the thing at Luke’s back jerks abruptly as if its hit a brick wall. Half of its head is blown away, and it somersaults and falls beneath the feet of the others behind it, taking down a few with it in its tumble and giving Luke a little leeway.

Come on, dammit!

I reach out with Jonesy, willing Luke to run faster. He’s so close I can see the sheen of sweat covering his face and the frantic whites of his eyes.

Just a little farther.

His fingers graze mine.

“Faster,” I scream, practically begging him to move. Determination creases his face as he lunges for us. I cry out in relief as his hand finally grips mine. Jonesy wraps his meaty fist around Luke’s forearm, and we pull as he leaps for the tailgate. He lands on the icy metal with a heavy thud, his legs still dangling over the side. I can already feel him slipping from my grasp.

“Hang on.”

While Jonesy and I tug with all our might on Luke’s right arm, Sam grabs Luke’s left and helps pull him in. We finally land him on the truck bed like some damn fish dangling on a hook.

There’s no time to celebrate the rescue. The leeches catch up to the truck, banging into the sides and bouncing off like rubber balls. Their frenzied behavior is unsettling. It’s like they’re more desperate than usual to get at us and will do whatever it takes to fulfil their directive. Sam’s words of us being hunted fill my brain, and the chill racking me has nothing to do with the ice melting down my neck.

“Hang on,” Lewis screams back at us from the open window as he chucks the truck into high gear. We brace ourselves as the truck bolts forward.

“That was crazy as hell,” Jonesy grins at us from the tailgate as we speed away, his bald head glistening with melting snow. “But we fucking made it.”

The leech appears from nowhere, landing on the tailgate with a thump. The parasite ejects from the bloody maw like a whip and aims for Jonesy’s throat. His grin shifts from relief to terror as the teeth cut deep into the hollow of his neck. The damn thing tips its head back in victory as Jonesy’s shriek of pain blends with our own screams.

Before any of us can react Morley’s axe whips down, slicing the connection and sending up a shower of blood. The tentacle feasting on Jonesy is severed from the leech’s mouth. Red rain splatters from the axe, blending with the snow glistening on the bald head as Jonesy falls back against the side of the truck bed, the lifeless gray worm still attached to his neck.

The leech totters dangerously on the edge of the tailgate, blood gushing from the severed appendage hanging from its mouth. Morley lifts a foot in disgust to kick it over the edge, but in a shocking move, it fastens its two arms around the man’s leg and pulls him with it as it falls.

“No!” I scream as Sam and I leap at the same time, trying to grab Morley’s arms. He flips as he falls, grabbing for the tailgate, but his hands fail to grasp hold. My fingers circle his wrist as Sam manages to snag his sleeve.

“Hold on, Morley.” I fall back on my ass and dig my heels into the tailgate, but I start slipping on the ice. Hands seize my shoulders, trying to keep both me and Morley inside the truck.

Morley’s eyes, filled with acceptance, connect with mine. “Take care of them,” he says before his wrist slips out of my hand. His fingers graze mine as his sleeve rips out of Sam’s grip. He vanishes over the back of the truck.

I’m still grasping at the empty space Morley just filled as he and the leech hit the ground hard. They bounce on the highway a couple of times before disappearing under the avalanche of predators. Haunted by the horror all we can do is watch helplessly as he’s torn from limb to limb, his screams and blood saturating the air.