Trevor pulled Patricia around and wrapped her in his arms. He tugged his coat around her, enveloping her in the fabric and blocking the Ragers from her view. “Don’t look, baby girl. Just…don’t look.”
The lead Crazy stepped forward and shook his piece of pipe at the pair. The scream that he loosed sent Trevor’s hair on end and he involuntarily shuddered. Patricia struggled against his grip and he fought to hold her tight.
She tugged at his arm and her strength was more than Trevor bargained for. She nearly flipped him to the ground as she erupted from under his jacket.
Trevor fell hard on his ass and stared up at his little girl with wide eyes. She braced her tiny feet on the concrete and squared off against the pipe wielding Rager.
Trevor stared at her, a mix of emotions rushing through him at once. He watched as she raised her tiny fist at the creature and screamed. Her shrill little voice caused goosebumps on his flesh and he felt his blood run cold as she stood her ground against the monster.
The Rager paused and tilted his head to the side, staring at the girl. He opened his mouth and something akin to nails scraping a chalkboard escaped his throat.
Patricia took a half-step forward and screamed back at him. In Trevor’s mind, it was almost as if they were communicating, albeit through some horrible language only they understood.
He scrambled to get his feet under him again and Patricia reached behind and held him back in her grip. “Don’t do it, baby girl. He’s too big.” He pleaded with her, praying that she wouldn’t risk her own safety. “I’ll keep them busy…you just RUN!”
Her grip tightened on his jacket and Trevor couldn’t pull free. He pleaded with her but she stood steadfast, her eyes never leaving the Rager with the pipe.
She squared her shoulders and inhaled deeply. Trevor had a split second to prepare for the shrill scream that he knew was coming. He nearly fell over when he heard her scream, “DAH-DEEE!”
Trevor collapsed to his knees and stared at her open mouthed. “Did you…did you just say…?”
The Rager screamed something back at her and stumbled a half-step back. Patricia stood her ground and shook her little fist at him.
Trevor stared open mouthed as the monster disappeared back around the front of the RV, fading into the shadows.
His head spun around to check the other crazies behind him and he wanted to whoop with joy when they, too, had disappeared.
He collapsed to the ground and pulled her toward him. “Did you just say…daddy?” The words choked him and tears ran down his face as he pulled her to him.
She buried her head in his chest and he held her tight, rocking as he sobbed. “I dunno how you did it, Peanut, but you just saved our bacon.” He choked back the sobs and pushed her to arm’s length, staring at her. “Say it again, baby. Please?” He sniffed back the tears. “Just say, ‘daddy’ one more again.”
She stared at him blankly.
Trevor gave her a tear stained smile. “It’s okay, baby girl. I heard you when it counted the most.” He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her.
“We’re gonna be okay.” He stroked her nearly bald head as he rocked. “You hear me? We’re gonna be okay.”
Chapter 2
Hatcher collapsed beside the gate, his legs shaking from the adrenaline rush. Hank reached out to pull him back to his feet and Hatcher waved him off. “Give me a minute.” He took three deep breaths then reached for Hank’s hand.
“That was close, huh?”
Hatcher nodded, his hands shaking as he turned back toward the main building. “I’ve faced Zulus in Yellowstone and I've faced our own military. But that?” He shook his head hard, his face a mask of anger. “That scared me so much that I’m pissed.”
Hank watched him march toward his office and hesitantly fell into step behind him. “But we ran them off, Hatch. Everybody’s safe.”
Hatcher squeezed his fists shut and counted to five, trying hard not to explode on one of his own. “No, Hank, we’re not safe.” He reached for the spare bottle of cheap liquor and filled his coffee cup. “Nobody’s safe so long as those assholes are still breathing.”
Hank took a deep breath and waited for Hatcher to calm down. He watched the man practically drain a coffee mug of brown liquor, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before he spoke again. “Hatch, there’s no way we can prepare for any and all contingencies. If we built a wall that a tank couldn’t knock down, they’d come in by air. If we built a dome over the place, they’d tunnel under.” He sat down across from him and gave him a solemn stare. “The best we can hope for is to come together as a community and fight whatever the world throws at us.”
Hatcher squeezed his eyes shut and slowly shook his head. “Don’t you get it, Hank? I went back to ground zero with the military…watched good men die so they could develop a cure.” He held his hands out wide. “Do you see anybody cured? I sure as hell don’t.” He tossed back the last of the drink then poured another.
“Hatch, that shit takes time…”
“Time? That’s something we don’t have much of. We got assholes like Simon out there trying to steal the days we have left, destroy what we built; we got Zulus hovering around like buzzards to pick our bones and all we can do is seal ourselves inside…a prison of our own making.”
Roger appeared in the doorway and shrugged. “All it took was a couple of well-placed shots and…” He glanced around the room. “What’s wrong? Did somebody get hurt?”
Hank hooked a thumb toward Hatcher. “His pride.” He walked out of the office without
