Deadland's Harves(82)

Kurt bit his lip as he thought for a moment. “It should. It’s nice and close to the lock, so as long as we get there without them seeing us, it may work. Why?”

“Because the riverboat is going to draw their attention from us,” Clutch replied.

Kurt frowned. “There might be people still on board.”

Clutch narrowed his eyes. “The Aurora is counting on us.”

“He’s right,” Griz said quietly. “We’re not far enough away. If we turn around, we could lead them right back to the Aurora. The Lady Amore will distract them enough that they’ll forget about us and then keep going. It’s the only way.”

Clutch unsheathed his knife. “Turn off the music, Kurt. Griz, help me cut the meat loose.”

As the pair started to cut the cords holding the deer organs onto the sides, Kurt shook his head as he started the engine and turned the boat around. “I don’t like this. It’s not right.”

“And exactly how do you expect us to rescue anyone in that lock?” Clutch asked as a chunk of deer meat plopped into the water.

“It’s not right, but tell me what in this godforsaken world is right,” I added, frustration bleeding over my compassion.

“They wouldn’t have saved us,” Wes said from my right. “Besides, we’d all die if we tried to help them.”

Kurt remained silent. He piloted the boat against the current, bringing it in between a small island and a group of tall dead trees with their trunks underwater. I peered into the trees on the tiny island. A zed’s hollow gaze leveled on me, and I shivered. It walked to the edge of the bank and stopped at the water’s edge. It didn’t growl or try to come closer. It only watched me inquisitively.

Kurt dropped the anchor before spinning around to face Clutch. “What now?”

“We wait.”

And that’s exactly what we did.

We had nowhere to go. As long as the herd was still here, we couldn’t go north without drawing their attention. The south was blocked by the lock and dam. We had to ride out the herd. An occasional scream blasted through the groans of the herd, and I winced each time. I focused on breathing in the smell of the river water and tried to imagine I was in a different world, one without zeds, but the relentless sounds were an iron maiden to any daydream. I curled up into a ball and covered myself up with a blanket as I watched the zed watching me while everyone on board the Lady Amore was eaten alive.





Chapter XXIV


I’d hid and waited zeds out plenty of times, but this time was the hardest. Kurt was right about one thing. It felt wrong to sit by while people were slaughtered. I racked my brain for solutions, but it came down to the fact that Clutch was also right. There was nothing we could do for the riverboat. We were too late by the time we’d first seen it. Anything we did now would put both our lives and potentially every Camp Fox life at risk. The mission had to come first. The Lady Amore’s demise was our wild card. We needed it to distract the herds from both us and the Aurora.

We waited while the zeds that fell onto the riverboat gorged themselves on its occupants. No one spoke, not even when I could hear someone screaming for help. To better hide our scents, we covered ourselves with blankets, which also helped to ward off the cold. Only our heads peeked out so we could watch for any approaching zeds, but the blankets did little to muffle the sounds.

The zed on the riverbank just stood there and stared, strangely not in a frenzy to reach fresh food. Its gaze seemed more curious than vicious. Still, I would’ve preferred to kill it, but it would have been a waste of a good arrow since the zed couldn’t reach us. Instead, I kept a close watch on it while the sun set.

When sunlight morphed into moonlight, the lone zed remained easy enough to spot. Its jaundiced eyes reflected light in the dark akin to a cat’s. Fortunately, unlike cats, zeds’ vision sucked at night, making their eyes a giveaway to us, as long as the moon was bright.

Clutch assigned shifts using hand signals, but I don’t think anyone slept. The constant moans of the herd cut through any imagined sense of safety. It sounded like a madhouse orchestra, with every instrument out of tune, and every note a screech. For the first time, I could almost commiserate with Maggie. I wanted to scream at the zeds to stop. They were driving me mad, but I was sane enough to know it would do no good. Instead, I focused my hate on Maggie, blaming her for our situation—even though I knew she wasn’t to blame. If she hadn’t gone nuts, someone else would have broken eventually. Still, hating her helped ground me.