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Since they were so wrong on the inside, it made sense that they looked wrong on the outside, but they hadn’t been transformed physically in any obvious way. It’s not like their skin turned green or their eyes went red. But they exuded an alien vibe. They seemed to lack language. They didn’t use it at least, nor did they seem to understand it anymore. They obviously didn’t have empathy. They were impervious to reason, and they seemed to be impervious to emotions aside from hunger and rage. Kyle’s cat had been more in tune with Kyle’s emotional state than these things were. The instinctive human revulsion to cannibalism was replaced by an instinctive drive to cannibalism.
Maybe that’s what it was more than anything else. Those things didn’t see themselves as cannibals. They didn’t kill or eat each other. They only killed and ate people who had not been infected. Which meant they recognized each other just as clearly as Kyle recognized them. So perhaps their aversion to cannibalism had not been abolished. They just no longer saw uninfected people as people.
The feeling was mutual. Those things were no longer people. Not really, not anymore. Kyle and Hughes and Parker were people. Even Lane and Bobby and Roland were people. But those things had exiled themselves from the species. Kyle had more in common with primitive hunter-gatherers and probably even Neanderthals than he had with them.
He, Annie, and Bobby reached the intersection where they needed to turn. The grocery store was only twenty or so minutes away now. And Kyle had Bobby’s pistol loaded with a full magazine. It occurred to him that he could sneak into the store and shoot Lane and Roland before either of them had a clue what was happening. It’s what Parker would do, for sure, and it’s what Parker would advise Kyle to do if he could. Parker could be a bit unhinged, but he was right about one thing. They really did live in a world with new rules. A world with no rules, in fact.
Bobby was going to die. He couldn’t be saved.
Lane and Roland also needed to die. Kyle could see that now. He’d be content if Lane and Roland just left and went their own way, but that wasn’t going to happen, and if they did go away, they’d no doubt make trouble for whatever other poor survivors they ran across. No, Lane and Roland needed to die. But Kyle didn’t want to pull the trigger. He could be honest with himself about that. He’d rather have Parker or Hughes do it. Or, if he had to do it himself, he’d rather have a plan that involved something a little better thought out than run into the grocery store blind and shoot them on sight.
Annie had blood on her shirt all over again. She hadn’t even been clean for two hours. Kyle was drenched in the stuff. Their clothes would have to be burned. She knew that, right? Despite the fact that parts of her memory seemed to be wiped.
But he pointed at a blood-soaked spot on her shirt and said, “Don’t get any of that in your mouth,” just to be sure.
Annie felt surprisingly at ease considering what had just happened. The adrenaline had washed out of her system, and her heart and breathing rates were normal again. Her body seemed to have adjusted to violence and terror during the time she couldn’t remember.
She supposed her partial amnesia was her mind’s way of protecting itself from trauma so she could still function. It seemed to work, because she functioned just fine.
Bobby stopped on the sidewalk. “Sorry. I need to sit down.”
He looked dizzy and about to fall over. Annie didn’t like Bobby one bit, but she instinctively wanted to reach out and help him. He was mortally wounded, after all, and it’s hard to hate a man when he’s dying. Then she remembered she wasn’t supposed to touch him. If he’d contracted the disease, he’d be shedding the virus from the wound in his arm. But she hardly saw the point of such caution since she and Kyle were already drenched with infected blood.
Annie got close enough to Bobby that she noticed something she hadn’t seen before. He had a small knife clipped to his belt in a little sheath, the kind that might be marginally useful while fishing or camping but practically useless for someone being swarmed by the infected. But a three-inch knife was better than no knife. She wanted it.
“We’re almost back to the store,” Kyle said. “We’re not safe out here and the store is only five blocks away. We need to get inside. But you’re right that you can’t come inside with us.”
Bobby eased himself down onto the sidewalk. “Just leave me here. And give me my gun.”
Bobby’s gun. She and Kyle might be able to do something about Lane.
“Either give me my gun back or shoot me,” Bobby said.
Kyle said nothing. He said nothing for a long time.
Bobby pitched forward and had to support his head with his hands. “Whoa,” he said and blinked like he had something in his eyes. “The virus is really coming on fast with me.”
“How long does it usually take?” Annie said.
“Couple of hours usually,” Kyle said. “But sometimes it’s faster.”
“It’s real fast with me, bro,” Bobby said. He blew out his breath and closed his eyes. “Look, I know what you’re thinking. I’m dying, but I know what’s going on. You want to shoot Lane. I get it. But you don’t want to shoot me. I get that too.”
Kyle said nothing.
“I’m going to die anyway. I’ll be a dead man walking if you let me turn. So if you don’t want to shoot me, hand me the gun and I’ll do it myself. Then you can have the gun back.”
“Lane will hear the shot,” Annie said. So will other infected, she thought.
“Those things will hear the shot too,” Kyle said. He paused and looked hard at Bobby. “You asked me not to tell Lane.”
“What?” Bobby said.
“Earlier,” Kyle said. “Right after you were bitten. You told me not to tell Lane because you knew what he’d do if he found out. But if you want me to shoot you, what are you afraid Lane is going to do?”
Sound travels clear and far in a world gone quiet. The patter of a man’s footsteps travels four blocks, the slam of a car door more than a mile. Tipped-over trash cans are even louder. The sound of gunfire seems to encircle the world.
Lane had no trouble hearing the shrieking pack of hunters followed by the report from Bobby’s pistol. It took place at least a mile away, but sound travels clear and far in a world gone quiet.
What he could not know is whether Bobby, Kyle, and Annie were still alive.
Lane was beginning to change his mind about Hughes. Hughes might be okay. He was smart and competent. Naturally Lane didn’t trust him, and he felt with dead certainty that the lack of trust was mutual, but he might try giving Hughes an iota of latitude to see how he handled it.
But he’d need Bobby to return in one piece for that. Controlling the group wouldn’t be easy with only Roland on his side. He needed two wingmen. The extra guns were locked in the truck outside and Lane was the only one with a key (as far as he knew), but three armed men were much more intimidating than two. Holding off a potential insurrection with just two would be very difficult indeed when it came time for those two men to sleep.
No matter what else happened, though, he had to get rid of Parker. He was not going to change his mind about that. The only question at this point was when.
Lane summoned Roland.
“They should be back by now if they survived,” he said. “Unless they’re injured.”
“Or bit,” Roland said.
“Or bit. Go out and check. See if they’re on the road. And go out there very carefully. It’s been noisy. That pack of hunters might still be out there and they can hear just as well as we can.”
Roland nodded.
“Take two guns,” Lane whispered. “You can give one to Kyle if he’s still alive and you don’t have any choice, but don’t give one to Annie. I don’t trust her.”
Roland frowned. Lane hadn’t shared his feelings about Annie with anyone. “What’s wrong with Annie?”
“I’m not sure. There’s something wrong about her. I haven’t figured out what it is yet, but I will. We’ll talk more later.”
Roland nodded again and slipped outside.
Lane turned to face his prisoners alone.
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