100 Days in Deadland (Deadland Saga, #1)(33)

Once we reached the top, I lay down on the stack of thick plywood and panted. Clutch scanned the area, and I pulled myself up to gauge the situation. Large shelves holding stacks of wood, blocks, and boxes lined the three walls. We had plenty of horizontal movement up here, but getting to the ground without becoming zed-food would be a challenge.

Clutch set down the duffel. “You two stay here. I’m going to check things out.”

I pulled myself up as Clutch leapt onto the next shelf over. He moved slowly but with a gracefulness that belied his size as he leapt from one shelf to the next. I looked out over the wall to see open countryside. A zed shambled along here and there, but otherwise, it was wide-open. The problem was we were a good twenty feet up, without any ladder or rope to get down the wall.

“We’re so dead,” Jase said at my side. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?”

I punched him in the arm. “I don’t ever want to hear you say those words again. Clutch will figure out something.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied quietly.

We sat in silence after that. When Clutch finally returned, Jase didn’t complain, not once.

“Find anything promising?” I asked.

Clutch pulled off his helmet and ran a hand through his hair. “It’s a hell of a jump, but the roof of the elementary school looks like our only shot. Our other option is to wait it out and hope these guys move on.”

“You think they’ll move on?” I asked.

“No chance in hell,” Clutch quickly replied.

I slid my gloves back on. “I guess we’d better get going then.”


The shelf we needed was four over from the one we were on, and I moved more cautiously than Clutch. Once I reached the shelf, I looked over at the school. “For once, I wish you were exaggerating,” I grumbled. When he’d said it was going to be a big jump, he should’ve said it was going to be an Olympian feat. Not only was the roof nearly a good five feet lower, there was what looked like an eight-foot gap between the shelf and the roof. If I didn’t make the roof, the fall would likely kill me.

To make matters worse, a lone zed was stuck in the alley, blocked on one side by the playground fence and the other by a car. It was on the ground, its legs mangled as though it had been caught between the car and the fence at some point, and it had dragged itself around in circles, if the brown trail was any indication.

“Oh, Jesus—”

My glare cut off Jase’s words and he clamped his mouth shut.

“If I go first,” Clutch said. “One of you will have to throw me the duffel.”

I almost chuckled at the absurdity. There was no way I could throw a fifty-pound bag two feet, let alone fifteen. “I’ll go first,” I said. “I’ll catch.” What I meant was, I’ll use my body to block the bag’s momentum and hopefully not die upon impact.

He nodded, and I backed up to the edge of the shelf overlooking the lumberyard. If I thought about it, I knew I’d freak, so I didn’t wait. I took three big breaths before sprinting forward. At the other edge, I kicked off into a scary-as-shit long-jump. Just when I thought I’d never reach the edge of the roof, I landed on the flat surface, falling forward instantly. The air whooshed from my lungs, and my teeth snapped shut painfully when I hit my chin. I slid down a couple feet before coming to a stop on the abrasive shingles.

I rolled over and coughed and wheezed.

“You okay?” Clutch called out, and I held up my thumb.

Once I could breathe again, I pulled myself up and inched my way back up to the peak. “Throw me the bag.”

Clutch held up the bag, and I held out my arms and swallowed. Jase stood off to the side, watching with wide eyes. Clutch swung the duffel in a wide arc and released it with a grunt. I stood there and waited for the smack-down, and Clutch’s aim was dead-on. The duffel hit me square in the stomach, and I fell backward, holding it to me. I slid several feet down the roof, but the duffel’s canvas helped slow my descent. By the time I sat up, I found Clutch on the roof with me.

“Nice catch.”

I coughed and handed him the duffel. “I don’t think I have tits anymore.”

He gave that deep rumble of a chuckle, heaved the bag onto his back, and winced.

“Your shoulder?”

He rubbed it. “Yeah. Twisted it when I threw the duffel.”

He reached out with his other hand and helped me to my feet. We looked over at Jase. He stood there, frozen. The zed in the alley was groaning, reaching up.

I motioned him over with one hand while still holding my bruised ribs with my other. “You can do it, monkey boy.”

He looked down once more and then slowly backed up. With a half-crouch, he rocked back and forth before kicking off. He easily closed the distance and landed solidly on the roof. But his footing gave way, and he kicked out and went tumbling down the side. He grabbed at the roof but kept sliding until he disappeared over the edge.

“Jase!”

Clutch and I moved cautiously down the angled roof to the edge. Jase was on the ground, holding onto his ankle. Instead of the parking lot side, Jase had fallen into the playground. Shit. I scanned the enclosed area but saw no movement.

Jase winced. “My ankle. I think it’s broken.”

“Can you stand?” Clutch asked.

Jase grunted, was able to get to his feet, but he favored his right leg.