“It’s more than just decoration, sweetheart.” Simon came to his feet and watched as she braced herself on the adobe arch over the gate and carefully lifted each leg over the metal spikes. “I swear to god, this had better be worth it.”
Simon nodded, his eyes following her every move. “I sure hope so.”
He watched her drop to all fours along the top of the wall, then slide her lower half down the other side. “Be careful.”
He watched her disappear and heard her land on the other side with a huff. A moment later the back gate rattled as she fought with the latch. “It’s rusted. Give me a moment.”
He watched in amazement as the gate creaked open and Lana appeared, none the worse for wear. “I’m gonna turn you into a cat burglar before this is over.”
“I think you already have.” She held the gate open for him then shut it behind him. “What now?”
“Now we see if we can get into the house.” Simon pushed through the overgrown yard, avoiding a small lap pool that had turned green and was half evaporated. “Looks like there may be fishing,” he joked.
“It smells,” Lana mumbled as they made their way to the house. “I’ll check the garage.”
“I’ll check the rear doors.” Simon pushed on the sliding glass but it was solid. A quick examination told him that this was not normal glass. It appeared tempered and triple-paned. “Whoever lived here didn’t want unexpected visitors.”
“Hey.” She waved him to the garage. “Check this out.”
He worked his way through the yard and stepped into the gloom of the garage. Although the doors had large windows, the trees in front of the house had the interior more than just gloomy. “Mercedes, baby.” She wagged her eyebrows at him.
Simon walked to the far end of the three car garage and pulled a tarp from another car. “Ooh…Ferrari.” He gave her a disappointed look. “Sorry, baby. Not a Porsche.”
She sighed animatedly. “I suppose I’ll survive.”
She turned and reached for the door leading into the house. “Guess who didn’t lock the door?” She smiled at him.
“And we have entry.” Simon dropped the tarp and followed her into the house. As he shut the door behind them, they both let out a low whistle.
“Jackpot.”
25
“This is the best you could find?” Hatcher asked as he stared at the remains of the local lockup.
Wally shrugged. “It looks like it was hit hard.”
Hank propped his elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “I can imagine that they tried to pick up and process the first handful of infected.” He gave Hatcher a knowing look. “Once they were brought here, it spread like wildfire.”
Hatcher groaned and peered past the front doors. “Then we dump ‘em.” He stepped onto the sidewalk and stared at their pickup, the two men tied to either side of the bed. The only thing keeping them from chewing their own arms off were the pillow cases over their faces.
“Where do you propose we do that?” Wally asked.
Hatcher looked down the road and sighed. “As far from town as we can. Maybe towards Albuquerque.”
Hank sighed as he pushed off the counter. “No time like the present.” He walked past the other two men and climbed into the truck. “Load up, fellers. We’re burning daylight.”
Hatcher climbed into the passenger side and Wally climbed into the back to restrain the men if they should begin to get rowdy.
“Go slow and easy.” Hatcher stared through the windshield. “If we have many Zulus moving about, I don’t want to run them down.” He glanced at Hank. “Don’t stop unless they purposely try to flag us down.”
“You got it boss.” He put the truck into gear. “We are the express line.”
The truck pulled out onto the road and Hank navigated the dead cars, maneuvering between the lanes as he drove farther away from downtown. “You planning on dumping them both at the same spot?”
Hatcher shook his head. “The thought occurred to me but I’m in no mood to watch men fight to the death.” He stared out at the remains of Rio Rancho. “This isn’t Rome.”
“How far apart do you want to release them?”
Hatcher shrugged. “Far enough that if they see each other they’d be wiped out by the time they met up.”
Hank chuckled. “Looking at them going at it, we might not have enough gas for that.”
“Just do your best.”
As they drove through a residential area, Wally pounded on the side of the truck. Hatcher leaned over and spotted him through the open rear window. “What’s up?”
Wally crawled toward the window and pointed back the way they came. “I just spotted people.”
Hatcher glanced in the direction he pointed. “Were they trying to get your attention?”
Wally shook his head. “They looked like they were trying to duck away. Like they didn’t want to be seen.”
Hatcher gave him a thumbs up. “Then leave ‘em be. We haven’t had the best of luck dealing with cured Zulus.”
Wally opened his mouth to say something then quickly closed it. He gave Hatcher a quick nod then crawled back to the rear of the bed.
“How many you reckon there might be?” Hank asked.
Hatcher blew his breath out hard and shook his head. “I have no idea. Hopefully enough that we can actually rebuilt some of what we lost.”
Hank suddenly perked up. “I heard that Roger is talking about getting his own place.”
“Where’d you hear that? You shouldn’t believe every rumor you hear.”
Hank stared straight through the windshield. “I heard it from Rog. I went by to check on him and he was telling Candy about a couple of places he spotted.” He glanced at Hatcher who appeared to be sulking in the seat. “I was just wondering what it would take to get the power back up.”
“You mean, like to the whole town?”
Hank shrugged. “Well, yeah. I mean we could work our way around town and shut off the
