Ex-Isle by Peter Clines (electronic reader TXT) 📕

One of the old drivers, Harry the Hook, was by the liftgate controls. He swung at something as they drove along, and she saw his spear shake with an impact. “Points,” he crowed.

“You get points for celebrities,” said Al. The brown-skinned man tugged the brim of his hat down a little more against the flow of air.

“It was,” said Harry.

Paul and another scavenger, a broad-shouldered woman named Keri, both snorted.

“It was,” Harry repeated.

“Who was it, then?” asked Paul.

“I don’t know. Some guy I’d seen in a couple things.”

Al shook his head. “Some guy?”

“Yeah, it was some guy. You’d’ve known him. It counts.”

“If you have to say it counts,” said the woman, “it doesn’t count.”

“Says who?”

“Says everyone,” Danielle chimed in.

Harry shot her an angry look. He’d never been fond of the heroes, and actively disliked them since one had broken his nose a few years back. He muttered something under his breath and turned back to the street.

Mean Green slowed as it rounded a corner. Danielle heard the clicking of teeth, and she tried not to look at the pale, outstretched hands she could see through the slats that made up the truck’s sides. Spears descended to push and prod the undead away. Then they were heading north on Highland Avenue, accelerating to catch up with Big Red.

“Hey, speakin’ of not counting,” said the not-angry-or-jealous man, “how long’s everyone think we’re going to last out there?”

Half the eyes in the truck fell on him. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” asked Al.

The young man shrugged. “I’m bettin’ we last two weeks before the fences fall or something and we all get eaten.”

“Javi,” sighed Desi, “give it a rest.”

“I’m just saying it, Des. We’re all thinkin’ it.”

Danielle scowled at Javi, and found scowling took her mind off being out in the open bed of the truck. “Please,” she said, “tell us what we’re all thinking.”

Javi shrugged. “They’re gettin’ rid of us. Sending us off to fend on our own.”

“You’re going to work the garden,” said Al. “We’re going to search all the houses up there.”

The younger man blew air out of his lips. “That’s what they’re telling us, but I’m not stupid like you.”

Paul’s face hardened. “What was that?”

“It’s not a garden, man. It’s a big prison camp. Like, back when England shipped all their criminals to Austria.”

Hector rolled his eyes. More than a few people smirked. “Australia, you idiot,” said Keri. “Not Austria.”

“Yeah, whatever,” said Javi. “Point is, they’re shipping all of us off. Buncha prisoners, couple of guards. We work ’til we all get killed by zombies. I give us two weeks, tops.”

“You’re an idiot, bro,” said Cesar.

“What, you think you’re one of the Superfriends now?” Javi smirked at him. “D’you forget you used to be one of the Seventeens, little man? Because I betcha none of them did.” He waved his hand at the scavengers next to Cesar, then pointed it at Danielle. “She didn’t. That’s why she’s here, right? ’Cause she doesn’t trust you with her toys?”

“No,” said Danielle and Cesar at the same time.

“Why do you think I’m here?” asked Javi. “Me or Desi or Hector or any of us? More’n half of us used to be in the Seventeens, and we all got volunteered.”

A low murmur traveled through the back of Mean Green. Looks went back and forth as they all counted up the faces around them. Eight of the fifteen people in the truck bed had been members of the South Seventeens gang.

“Maybe you just don’t have any skills past using a shovel,” said Al, “and they finally decided to make you earn your keep.”

Javi smirked. “Yeah, if that helps you sleep for a few more nights, old man.”

Harry the Hook shook his head and swung his spear as they drove past another ex. Desi and Hector edged away from Javi and grumbled to each other. The broad-shouldered woman, Keri, whispered something in Paul’s ear. Neither of them looked happy. Even Cesar looked a little grim.

Danielle looked around. Right now, St. George would crack a joke or say something uplifting to boost the mood. Freedom or First Sergeant Kennedy would just yell at them to shape up and shut their mouths.

But St. George was somewhere out over the Pacific by now. Kennedy was up ahead in Big Red. Captain Freedom was back at the Mount, probably patrolling the Corner.

Danielle took in a deep breath and forced her arms down to her sides. She let the air out and tried to relax her shoulders. She pushed her chin up.

“Eden’s important,” she said. “Right now it’s probably the most important thing we’ve got going. We can’t keep scavenging the city for cans of soup.” She took another breath and fought the urge to cross her arms. “This garden’s going to keep all of us alive. Everyone’s depending on us to make it work.” She looked Javi in the eye. “We’re all important.”

Javi chuckled and shook his head. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “We’re all important and it’s not a fucking prison work camp. That’s why it’s all Seventeens and screw-up soldiers, right? Is that why she’s coming, too? ’Cause she’s important?”

He waved his hand at the woman crouched in the opposite corner of the truck bed. The one no one had looked at, but they’d all kept an eye on. The one Gibbs had seen just before he announced he’d be riding in Big Red.

The Asian woman in drab sweats scowled at Javi and tried to sink deeper into the corner between the toolbox and the side of the truck, away from everyone’s stares. Half of them tried to look her in the eyes. The other half looked at her throat, at the square of red scars. It had only been three months since Doc Connolly cut out the woman’s vocal cords.

Christian Smith dismissed the other people in the truck with a wave of her mangled, three-fingered hand. The ring and middle finger were gone, removed all the way down to