Deadland's Harvest (Deadland Saga, #2)(48)

Clutch wrapped his gloved hand around my mine. “Come on. Let’s head back to the galley and grab a snack. There’s nothing we can do out here except wear holes in the deck.”

I looked to the south another time, still seeing nothing. “I guess you’re right.”

I moped as we headed back toward the galley. Clutch rolled slowly over the deck boards. After several feet, he came to an abrupt stop, peeled off his worn gloves, and picked at a blister on his hand, grumbling under his breath.

I picked his gloves off his lap and rubbed at the soft leather with holes and slashes. “Wow. These are worthless. You really need a new pair.”

“That’s not going to happen. I can’t find any more. What I need is to get rid of this chair and back on my feet.”

I wanted to snap back at his infuriating refusal to give his body time to heal. Instead, I dropped his gloves with a smack on his lap and gripped his shoulder. “A week ago you couldn’t even stand. Just be patient.”

“It’s hard to be patient when we’ve got a shit storm of zeds heading this way.”

Good point. I left my hand on his shoulder while I looked to the north. I forced a smile. “The zeds aren’t here yet. So you can be patient a little longer.”

“Hmph,” he replied.

As I turned to look back down at Clutch, something in the distance caught my eye. I stepped back and lifted my rifle to look through the scope. Off the edge of the island, a deck boat with several people in it came jetting around the corner. I quickly made out Jase’s sandy, shaggy hair.

I lowered my rifle and let out a whoop. “They’re back! They must’ve had boat trouble since they’re all loaded up in one.”

Clutch narrowed his eyes and scrutinized the incoming boat for a long minute.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go meet them at the top of the ladder.”

He didn’t move. “I only count four on the boat.”

“What?” I asked. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

When I’d seen Jase, I hadn’t bothered counting the crew. I squinted in the sunlight as I counted. Clutch was right. Griz had gone out with two other scouts today. There should have been five on that boat. “Maybe the fifth man is still bringing in the other boat,” I offered hopefully.

“Maybe,” Clutch said. “Let’s get over there.”

We hustled over to where the rope ladder and pulley-driven elevator platform hung. Deb was already there, watching each man climb up the ladder. Consternation filled her face.

Jase was the second man up the ladder. I grabbed onto his shivering, wet form and helped him climb over the railing. He collapsed on the deck, and I wrapped my arms around him to share my body heat. “What happened? Are you hurt?” I asked.

Clutch put a hand on Jase’s back.

Deb kneeled by Jase. “Where’s Tack?”

“Don’t-know,” Jase replied between chattering teeth and started to pull himself up.

I helped Jase to his feet. “Let’s get you a hot shower.”

By then, the others had reached the top. Griz’s sleeves were wet, but everyone else was dry. He gave Clutch a hard look. “I think it’s safe to say Sorenson is headed this way.”

Clutch nodded. “I’ll meet you on the bridge in five.”


Griz and the other two scouts jogged across the deck, followed closely by Deb, who kept asking them about Tack.

Clutch looked up at Jase. “I need you to tell me exactly what happened.”

Jase nodded, his whole body shaking against mine, as we took slow steps toward the galley. “We-we drove until we s-saw the riverboat.” He sucked in a breath. “We c-cut the tube loose and took off. They must’ve seen Nikki or something ‘c-cause they sent a speedboat with—swear to God—our own .30 c-cal after us.”

“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “Thank God you didn’t get shot.”

“Tack?” Clutch asked.

Jase sniffled. “When they got close, they shot out our engine. W-we were dead in the water. They kept their distance until we ran out of ammo. They came up alongside, and Tack and I got ready to take them on, but then he shoved me into the water and took on all three guys by himself.”

“Oh, God.” That sounded exactly like something Tack would do. Even though he was only a few years older than Jase, Tack had taken him under his wing. I figured it had something to do with the fact that Tack had a younger brother about Jase’s age. After the outbreak had hit, he searched but never found him.

Jase winced and then rubbed his hair. “I saw it all from the water. They tackled him. Then they tied him up and came after me. I had to ditch my life jacket and swim. I got lucky and hid under a tree trunk floating down the river. They got really close but I heard Sorenson on their radio and he called off the search. I think he assumed I was a goner.”

He looked at each of us, his eyes pleading. “We’ve got to go back and get Tack.”

“We will,” Clutch said without hesitation. “We don’t leave any of our own behind.”

I hugged him. “We’ll get him back. We have a hundred times the firepower that Sorenson has.”

“What if they’ve already killed him?” Jase asked.

“If they wanted him dead, they would’ve gunned you both down in the water. I’m sure he’s safe. Sorenson needs Tack as a bargaining chip,” Clutch replied.