Hatcher nodded, remembering his own encounter with the freshly infected. “I’ll have to tell you about that ‘volcano’ someday.”
Cooper nodded knowingly. “Anywho, I ran into Simon and his gang. At first, they seemed like a decent bunch, just a club trying to hang together. I swore my allegiance to them, but then…then Simon went off the deep end. Instead of offering assistance he’d rob people of what little they had. Any guys who he thought could be made into fighters he kept, but he was always paranoid. If some poor jerk even hinted they might turn on him, he’d just kill them on the spot.” He swallowed hard and shook his head. “He’s a bastard.”
“I think that’s pretty much the consensus.”
Cooper turned in his seat and eyed Hatcher. “Truth is, he didn’t start out that way, though. I mean, at first, we helped people. Took them into the fold, offered them protection, food, shelter.” He shook his head at mental images that Hatcher could only imagine. “Then we had a major run-in with some of the Ragers. Afterwards, Simon was walking through the dead and he just went numb. Wouldn’t talk, he wouldn’t eat…just sat in his tent and drank every drop of booze we could find.”
“You said after he walked through the dead? People or Zulus?”
“Both. But it was a couple of the Ragers…I mean, Zulus, that set him off.” Cooper shrugged. “After that, he changed. People were less than cattle. He gathered a harem of whores that he’d go through damn near every night. He’d drink non-stop. If anybody questioned him they were lucky if he didn’t shoot them dead for their trouble.”
Hatcher leaned forward. “So something triggered this change…a dead body?”
Cooper nodded, turning back to the monitors. “I saw one of the bodies. It was some chick. Covered in tats and her own filth. I can’t be positive, but one next to her looked like he was wearing a biker vest.”
“People he knew maybe? Friends?”
Cooper shrugged. “All I know is after that encounter, anybody we came across, if they didn’t have something that Simon wanted, he’d kill them. Same with the Ragers…I mean, Zulus. He seemed to take a certain perverse pleasure in it, too.”
Hatcher leaned back in his seat and considered this new information. He had no idea what he might do with it, but the more he knew about his enemies, the better.
Simon paced nervously, waiting for the sun to rise. He had marched up the stairs numerous times during the night to see if he could identify anything near the lights. Each time, he’d come back downstairs and drink until he was certain he’d missed something.
He stood over Shooter’s shoulder once more, staring out the window. The lights seemed even more like a blur. Their newfound home sat in The Heights, a subdivision built on a small hill that overlooked the rest of the town. It was only by the grace of the gods that the house they had chosen had a line of sight to the area lit up below.
Simon tried to identify anything between them, looking for any kind of landmark to help him get a better idea the distance. “See anything?”
“Just the lights.” Shooter yawned and stretched. “Whoever it is must have hella security or they aren’t afraid of the Ragers.”
“Everybody fears them,” Simon stated flatly. He continued to stare out the window and like a moth to a flame, his eyes never left the brightly lit scene. “Whoever they are, they’re dumb as dogshit for announcing their location.”
“Unless they’re armed to the teeth and know how to protect themselves.” Shooter added. “That’s my only concern about this recon mission you’re sending me on.”
“Don’t be a pussy.” Simon smacked the back of his head. “Just get close, scope them out and report back their strengths.”
Shooter sighed and leaned his head against the window sill. “In and out. Report what I see. Got it.”
“Cheer up, Shooter ol’ buddy. Pretty soon you’ll have whatever real food they got.”
“And you’ll have the women. Got it.” Shooter shook his head to stay awake. “I don’t suppose you could sit here and watch them and let me get a few hours sleep could you?”
Simon snorted. “You’ll be fine.” He turned for the door then paused. “I’ll even let you eat the last of the coffee grounds before you leave tomorrow.”
Shooter glanced at his watch. “You mean in about three hours?”
“That’ll work too.” Simon tilted the bottle back and swallowed the last of the brown liquor. “I hear a bed calling my name.”
Trevor took Patricia’s hand once again and started off in another direction. “Nobody’s home.” He gave her a worried smile. “We need to find food and shelter.” He glanced up the street with no idea which direction to go.
Patricia walked alongside him, her little feet moving quicker as he continually searched. “Food and shelter, food and shelter, food and…” He stopped in the middle of the road and stared down the street.
“Tell me my eyes aren’t playing tricks with me.” He pointed to a marquee type sign sitting high on a pole. “Is that a grocery store?” He gave her a smile and she stared back at him blankly.
“Cross your fingers, Peanut.” He turned down the street and increased his speed, causing her to nearly jog beside him. When he finally slowed to a stop, she was still by his side.
He stepped into the shadows and stared at the store front. “The glass is all intact.” He swallowed hard. “I’m not sure that’s a good sign.”
He watched the front of the building for what seemed forever before he pulled her back out and crossed the street to the huge parking lot. He noted a few cars
