Deadland's Harvest (Deadland Saga, #2)(39)

Inside, three bodies lay sprawled on the floor, each one with a gunshot wound in the skull. A single revolver lay in the hand of one. They’d been dead for some time, with how their discolored skin clung to their emaciated forms.

Zeds were easier to deal with than corpses. I could convince myself that their humanity was gone, but corpses…they reminded me of what I was doomed to become someday.

“All right. Let’s check the next level,” Tyler said.

At the bottom of the stairs, we all went up to the glass to peer inside.

“Looks fine to me,” Wes said, his nose pressed against the glass. “I wonder if the captain is one of the fellows we came across in the bridge.”

Inside, the table and couch seemed undisturbed with no signs of violence and no place for zeds to hide.

“Good. At least one room that shouldn’t stink like a shit storm,” Griz said.

I glanced at the stairwell. “Ready for the galley?”

“We don’t have much time until we lose our sunlight,” Tyler said. “Let’s go. Tack, you take point. Griz and I will cover. Everyone else, stand back until we clear this level.”

Tack was Tyler’s go-to guy for taking point, so he was used to it. He moved smoothly and rarely talked, but more important, he never freaked out. The slender man walked up to the door, held up his hand, and then motioned forward. Griz opened the door and Tack swung. A zed that had been on the other side of the door went down. Tack headed inside, followed closely by Tyler. Jase held the door when Griz followed.

I watched through the window as Tack and Tyler finished off the lone zed in the room.

“All clear,” Griz called out, and we entered the large room. “Ready to check below decks.”

“It’d be nice if there were only four in the crew,” I said.

Tack was already at another door. Tyler and Griz joined up with him. He opened the door, and after a quick second, he touched his nose. A signal we’d come up with at Camp Fox for scouting runs.

The smell that caused Tack to signal us wafted through the air from below decks. The all-too-familiar rotten stench of zeds.

Damn it.

There were more than four in the crew.





Chapter XI


Tack held up four fingers. He turned to face us. “They’re all at the bottom of the stairs.”

Four zeds. Relief blanketed my nerves. Four more zeds we could handle.

Tyler looked across our faces. “Griz, since they can’t get up the stairs, you want to clear out these one at a time?”

Griz nodded. “No problem, Maz.”

“Okay then. Splitting up will save us time. Wes, you stay up above deck and start figuring out what needs done to get this boat ready for Camp Fox,” Tyler said. “Tack and Nate are with me. Jase and Cash, you’re with Griz. Griz, your team will clear this room. Move slow. It’s going to be dark down there, so we have to be extra careful. We have sixty-plus souls counting on us, so there’s no room for mistake. Tack, Nate, and I will start at the back and work our way toward you from below decks. Come to the deck if you hit 1900 and we haven’t come across each other yet. Everyone clear?”

We all voiced agreement. Tyler, Tack, and Nate headed toward the back of the towboat.

I paused as I walked toward the door. Lying on the table was an open journal. On its cream pages was a beautiful drawing of a cloudy sky. I turned the page to find an ink sketch of a landscape. I flipped through pages of stunning art, and seeing it panged my heart. The outbreak had taken so much talent. It had murdered gifted people and criminals equally, children and the old. All that was left behind was remnants. I didn’t have any special gifts. Before the outbreak, I was just one out of billions. Now, I was necessary.

The loss of a single life could bring us one step closer to the brink of extinction.

Ha. Who was I kidding?

We were already there.

I snapped the journal shut and looked up to find Jase watching me. His gaze questioned me, and I noticed that both he and Griz had their headlamps on; I clicked on mine. “I’m ready,” I said quickly. The band rubbed uncomfortably against my stitches, but it was better than going in blind. Griz stopped outside the door, and I refocused on the mission.

As we stood behind Griz, I thought on Tyler’s words. He didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know. We all knew that this boat was Camp Fox’s best hope. That’s why I’d come along, even knowing it was a political play on Tyler’s part. I sure as shit wasn’t here because I enjoyed walking into the dank interior of a towboat with who-knew-how-many hungry zeds waiting around every corner and in every shadowy nook.

Griz glanced back at us. “We stick with the usual plan. I’ll be on point. Jase, you’re at my six. Cash, you’ll be sweeper in case we need to break out the artillery.”

“Yeah, got it,” Jase said.

I nodded. “Just give me a minute to set up before you make contact.”

Griz opened the door, his homemade machete ready. The stench wafted out. He stepped onto the top of the metal steps that led into the dark bowels of the towboat. Jase followed, and I brought up the rear. It didn’t matter if it was Griz or Tyler. They both always put me in back. They kept Jase in back, too, if any of the other soldiers were involved. I figured it was because we didn’t have military training, and they had some kind of idea that the military was the first line, that they were there to protect us civilians. I didn’t waste the breath explaining that Clutch had been training Jase and me since the outbreak.