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âI understand that, but it doesnât mean I have to like the fact that you just broke down one of the things between me and them.â
âFair enough.â
âWhat happened with the military last night?â Lance took a tentative seat on a stool at the far end of the bar. âI heard the bombing and shooting, but I didnât look outside.â
âThey got their asses kicked, same as us. We watched a whole goddamn battalion get taken out.â Ralph looked at the vodka bottle again, his head cocked at angle as if contemplating another drink.
Lance hoped he wouldnât have to take the booze away. He didnât need a confrontation. âIt sounded like they were hitting the city with artillery.â
âThey were.â
Lance stayed quiet for a bit, trying to think of a way to get them out of the restaurant. They seemed nice enough, but that didnât mean much. Lance had never been the best judge of character. He married Liz after all.
âYou said that you think youâre all thatâs left of your group. You didnât see the rest die?â
âWe saw a lot of âem die, but not all.â Ralph scratched his chin. âThey caught us so off guard that our group split in two. Everyone in our half got taken out.â
âHow did you manage to survive the night with all of those things out there?â
âWhen the military showed up and started raising hell, we used the distraction to climb in the back of a burned-out bus. They didnât find us until twenty minutes ago, when some numb nuts had to take a leak.â He glared at the boy. âWeâve been running from them since. Donât have enough ammo to shoot âem all, so we ran.â
Mumbling came from outside as another infected shambled by the restaurant. The men waited for it to pass.
Tony whispered, âNice place you have here; âcept for the smashed window anyway.â
Lance stared at him. âHow long are you boys planning on hanging around?â
âEasy now,â Ralph said. âWeâre just hiding for a bit. The day at the most. Thereâs a rendezvous point that our group is supposed to meet at if we get split up. Thatâs tonight, so weâre out of here by then.â
All three of them turned and looked at him, waiting for him to acknowledge their continued presence. Lance didnât see too many outcomes that didnât end with him shooting them, or vice versa. Unless they were telling the truth, and just wanted a place to squat in for the day.
âFine. Donât know how much longer I can stay here anyway. Most of the food was gone when I got here. We should move to the back of the restaurant. Thereâs less of a chance of them overhearing us back in the kitchen.â
âLead the way.â Ralph picked up his rifle and laid it against his shoulder. âYouâre the boss.â
Lance turned and headed to the kitchen, wondering if he was making a mistake.
Pain exploded in the back of his head.
He fell to his knees, shotgun clattering across the floor.
The world went black.
Throbbing pain ran from the top of his skull to the yolk of his shoulders.
Lance groaned as his eyes fluttered open.
Racks ran up walls on either side of him. Bags of bread lay on the floor around his shoulders and arms. He was in the freezer.
His arms wouldnât move.
Head pounding, Lance craned his neck, saw his arms tied to his torso.
Backpack gone.
âSon of aââ
âWelcome back,â Ralph said. He walked through the prep kitchen and stopped at the open door of the freezer, leaning against the frame. âHowâs your head?â
âHurts like hell.â Lanceâs eyes swiveled around, investigating the freezer, hoping to spot his shotgun.
âLooking for this?â Ralph reached around the doorframe to the outside of the freezer and pulled the shotgun into Lanceâs view. He held it by his waist, shaking it slightly, as if he were showing a treat to a dog.
âWhy are you doing this?â
âYou have things that we want.â
âIf youâd askedââ
âDonât bother, son. You wanted us out of here ASAP. I donât blame you, of course, but that doesnât jive with what we need.â
Lance closed his eyes and took a deep breath. âWhat are you going to do with me?â
âHavenât decided that yet.â Ralph scratched his chin. âTony wants to kill you. Mikeâs a little squeamish about the idea, seeing as you arenât infected.â
Tony hollered from the dining room, âJust kill âem and get it over with!â
âWhy the hell would you kill me?â Lance tried to keep the panic from his voice. It didnât work.
âThatâs what I said.â Ralph shrugged his shoulders. âHe seems to think that youâll come after us. I donât see how youâll get out of the restaurant when we leave. Not like you have a gun or anything.â
âYou want to leave me here, tied up and defenseless? And you were trying to convince me that youâre the good guys?â
âGood is a relative term nowadays, Iâm âfraid.â
Lance struggled against the tape, getting nowhere. His hands tingled from blood loss because of the cinched bindings.
âEasy now, Lance. You arenât getting out of those.â
The teen walked into view, drinking a beer from the fridge. âIf we just leave him here, wonât he turn into one of those things after they get at him?â
âBoy, it ainât even noon yet and youâre gonna be half in the bag. Put that goddamn beer down.â Ralph cocked an eyebrow as he turned back to Lance. âYou do have a point though. If they donât kill him, just bite him, weâll have another one of those damned things coming after us.â
Mike put the beer down on the counter. âI think Iâm changing my mindâTony might be right. We should put him out of his misery.â
âSee? Even the kid knows Iâm right,â Tony shouted.
âTony! Keep it down, for Christâs sake! We broke the window out front, remember? Why donât you just invite the whole city to come in here?â Ralph rolled his eyes. âSee what Iâm dealing with, Lance?â
âI feel so bad for you,â Lance said. âWhy not just let me go? Iâll walk out of here right now. You didnât tell me where your rendezvous is, or whatever you called it.â
Ralph studied him for a moment. âCome here, Mike.â
The young man stepped beside his leader.
âYou just said that you didnât like killing someone who wasnât infected. What changed your mind?â Ralph put his hand on Mikeâs shoulder.
Mike said, âIt just doesnât feel right leaving him here for them. Seems more humane to put him down.â
âWhat the hell is wrong with you people? Why do I have to die at all? Just let me go!â Lanceâs voice rose, getting louder and higher, paralleling his fear.
âQuiet. You make a ruckus and youâll leave me with no choice.â Ralph looked back at Mike. âMaybe we could just let him go. What do you think of that?â
Lance stared at them in disbelief. His life was being used as a tool to teach the boy some kind of warped lesson. These people were mad.
âThat sounds good, but what if he wants revenge? Or what if he gets turned in a day or two and we have one more monster trying to kill us?â
âSo what do you think we should do?â Ralph asked.
âI donât know, Grandpa.â Mike refused to meet Lanceâs eyes, even though he openly discussed his fate. âKilling him still feels wrong.â
âSo why did you say that you think Tony is right?â
âI thought thatâs what you wanted to hear.â Mikeâs shoulders slumped.
Lance shook his head. This familyâs morality was somewhere right of Hitler. Who suggests killing a man because they think it will please their grandfather?
âYou people are seriously fucked.â
Ralphâs face flashed with anger. âOne more word, andââ
A crash of splintering wood came from the bar area. Tony roared, low and deep, like a growling war cry.
âTheyâre in!â Ralph spun the boy around and pushed him through the prep area, taking Lanceâs shotgun with him.
Lance struggled into a seated position, knowing that he had to get out of the freezer and escape the restaurant somehow. If the Manson family managed to fight off whatever horror came through the window, theyâd probably kill him. Then again, if he did get outside, the victims of the Xavier virus would do him in.
His head pounded.
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