Sinner nodded slowly and moved back to the stone steps of an old building. “I’ll just sit here.”
Shooter quickly fired up the big V-Twin engine and idled the bike across the street. He guided it up the ramp and stowed it inside the building. Sinner actually sighed with relief when the little shit stepped back out into the daylight. He trotted to his own bike and fired it up. “Five minutes, man. Just hold on.”
He revved the engine then pulled out onto the street. Sinner could hear the engine wind as his partner in crime darted through the empty city streets.
He blew his breath out hard and leaned back on the warm stone steps. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He was really second guessing his forking over the pain pills to render Simon unconscious.
Sinner clenched his jaw tight as the pain in his shoulder throbbed. “I guess I’m not as tough as I thought I was.” He pushed up from the stone steps and tried to remain upright.
He tugged at his leather jacket and cringed at the bullet hole in the shoulder of the garment. He shifted his weight on the steps and pulled the jacket around to wrap around his front. Although the steps were warm and the rising sun felt almost hot, he had chills.
“Fuck me…I hope this doesn’t mean what I think it means.”
He leaned to the side and rested his good shoulder on the side of the building. He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but the throbbing pain in his shoulder.
A scraping sound caught his ear and he sat up, his eyes scanning the area. The entire town was nearly dead quiet; he hadn’t even seen a stray pet in weeks. Yet, something made that scraping sound.
His eyes darted around the area, looking for any signs of a breeze that might have caused something to move and make the sound, but the air was still. He swallowed hard and found his throat dry.
The scraping sound echoed off the side of the building again and Sinner felt his face pale. He hurriedly looked around for the pistol Shooter had slipped him. In his panic, he’d forgotten that he’d tucked it into the back of his waistband and he scrambled as much as his shoulder would allow him to searching for it.
The scraping sound grew louder and faster. Sinner’s eyes shot to his left and he saw the lone Rager standing in the shadows of the building across from him. Its leg was dragging behind and it appeared as though the creature had fractured it badly. It was just too stubborn to give up the ghost.
Their eyes locked and the Rager froze in the shadows. The thing had once been a man and it stood on its good leg, leaning against the building for support. It cocked its head to the side and stared at him.
Sinner slowly reached behind him, his hand wrapping around the grip of the pistol. He tugged it from the back of his jeans and brought it to his lap. “Don’t do it,” he muttered. “Just…don’t do it.”
The creature threw its head back and screamed. The sound echoed off of the surrounding buildings and Sinner brought the pistol up, firing as he stared down its length. One round ricocheted off of the corner and the second pierced the Rager’s shoulder just above the heart. The third missed wide and struck a support column of the building’s massive porch, sending bits of stone and debris into the air.
The Rager spun, its arm grabbing at the wound as it fell to the ground. The screaming didn’t stop, though. In fact, it increased in volume and pitch.
Sinner cringed at the high-pitched squeal and leveled the pistol on the writhing form on the ground. He fired again and watched the creature jerk as the bullet entered its soft midsection. Sinner continued to stare as the Rager quivered and shook, pink foam bubbling across its mouth. He assumed he’d pierced a lung with that last shot. He slowly pushed up from the steps and leaned against the corner of the building.
The pistol hung limply at his side and he stumbled more than stepped down the stone stairs. He made his way to the corner of the building and peered across the street as the Rager made its final death throes.
Sinner exhaled hard and slumped against the wall. “Saved by the bell.” He glanced at the pistol in his hand. “Or, by the bullet. Either way, I’ll take it.”
He pushed off the wall and was about to turn back to the steps when he heard the slap of bare feet on hard ground. He felt his blood turn cold again as the sounds increased in speed and volume.
“Fuck me…” he whispered to himself. He raised the pistol once more and aimed for the street in front of where the Rager had died. “Come and get it you bastards.”
Chapter 12
Wally stepped beside Hatcher. “Don’t let ‘em go, Hatch. You’ll never forgive yourself.”
Hatcher turned to him, his eyes wide. “And if she infects somebody inside?” He pointed behind him. “That wall is to keep her kind out.”
“She’s a one of a kind, Hatch. She ain’t like the others.”
Hank had stepped in front of the RV, stopping Trevor from pulling away. He held his hand up and walked to the driver’s door. He motioned for him to roll the window down. “Don’t go just yet. Let us talk to him.”
Trevor shook his head. “Hey, it’s no big deal. We were planning on hitting the road anyway.” He gave Hank a soft smile. “I appreciate you extending the offer though.”
“Just hold on.” He looked
