Hatcher gave him a worried look. “These were half a million dollar homes twenty years ago. Maybe more.” He shook a finger at him. “People should take pride in where they live.”
“Something tells me that the law of supply and demand declares these homes to be worth a lot less than they were last year.” Buck couldn’t resist the smartass inside struggling to get out. “In fact, I’d bet that you could use these properties in a game of Monopoly and trade ‘em for a get out of jail free card,” he smirked as Hatcher tried the gate.
“Gate’s locked.” Hatcher ignored Buck’s jabs as he studied the wall. “If I boost you over, maybe you could—”
His idea was interrupted by the distinct crack of a rifle shattering the silence. Adobe erupted right next to Hatcher’s ear and he dove for the ground as a second shot sprayed him with more dried stucco.
“Go! Go! Move!” Hatcher scrambled to his feet, his boots throwing gravel as he pushed Buck towards the corner of the thick adobe wall. They leapt to the ground behind the wall just as another chunk of adobe rained down on them.
“Where the hell is that coming from?” Buck fought to catch his breath.
Hatcher shook his head. “Other side of the street if I were to guess.” He stared down the row of houses and cursed under his breath. “I guess we were trespassing and didn’t realize it.”
Buck turned and plopped into the dry gravel under the wall. “Well, the good news is, there are more people than just us.”
“Too bad they want us dead,” Hatcher commented.
Buck looked up at him, his eyes hopeful. “Maybe we could wave a white flag? Try to actually talk to them?”
Another shot echoed off of the houses and Buck withered closer to the ground.
“I’d say wave my underwear but I doubt they’re white anymore,” Hatcher grumbled. Another round exploded over their heads and he ducked instinctively. “Son of a bitch! Whoever it is, I don’t think they want to talk.”
A flash of light flickered in Buck’s peripherals and he glanced across the street. He caught a glimpse of Will waving something reflective, catching their attention. He waved to Buck then pointed farther down the street. He held up two fingers.
Buck slapped at Hatcher. “Will’s trying to tell us something.”
Hatcher stared at Will then nodded. “The shooter is two houses down.” He popped his head up and glimpsed over the wall. As soon as he ducked back down, the top of the wall erupted in another shower of stucco and compressed earth. “It’s the house on the corner.”
Buck wiped the grit from his face. “Damn! That was gonna be your place! I guess it’s a good thing we started knocking on doors on the other side of the addition.” He huffed and stared at Hatcher. “You keep his attention. I’ll go around and try to come in behind him.”
Hatcher shook his head. “No. We should just find a way back to the truck and leave. There are plenty of other places that we could settle.”
Buck rolled his eyes. “This place is so close to the old one. We could walk back and forth.” He shook his head. “We either need to make this guy realize that we’re not the threat he thinks we are, or we take him out.” Hatcher opened his mouth to argue when Buck interrupted. “The guy tried to kill you. Me. Both of us.” He pointed to Will. “If he knew Will was over there, he’d be shooting at him, too.”
“It’s too dangerous, Buck.”
Buck came to his feet and flexed his legs. “I’m going.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll run behind these houses to the main road. See if I can come in through the back and shut him down.”
“I said no.” Hatcher tried to inflect as much authority into his statement as he could.
Buck nodded at him. “I heard you.” He pulled his pistol and checked the chamber. “I’ll yell for you once he’s subdued.”
“What if there’s more than one?”
Buck shrugged. “Then I’ll hope they don’t see me coming.” He turned and ran the length of the wall, rounding the corner behind the house.
Hatcher squeezed his eyes shut and uttered a string of epithets, then a short prayer for the kid. “Let’s keep this asshole busy, then.”
He counted to three then popped his head up again just before another round sprayed him with dirt and concrete.
Higgins stepped into a short alleyway and beat on a steel door. A small window opened and a set of eyes appeared before it was unceremoniously slammed closed and the steel door opened.
“What is this?” Broussard asked.
“You’ll see in just a moment.” Higgins held his head down, eyes averted.
A short series of clunks and thumps echoed and the steel door began to open. A fairly bright light escaped into the gloomy hallway, then a man in tactical gear and a rifle stood framed there, the light behind him.
“These are the people who developed the cure,” Higgins said softly. “They’ve only just arrived.”
The guard studied them for a moment then stepped out of the way. Broussard glanced at Carol, that uneasy feeling creeping back into his gut.
As they stepped forward, following Higgins, they realized that the other CDC personnel had moved away and disappeared. Broussard turned and opened his mouth to say something, but the guard interrupted him by slamming the steel door shut.
“What is this? Why are the others not joining us?”
Higgins cleared his throat and motioned them forward. “I’m afraid access is rather limited to this area.”
Carol hiked a brow. “And yet we’re being ushered right in?” She shook her head. “What aren’t you telling us?”
Higgins continued walking into the brightly lit area, rows of bunk beds and footlockers lining the walls. “This is where the surviving government members would still
