Milepost 291

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

At least we’re all together again.

DeVontay could barely make out the dark jacket of the man in front of him, the one who’d spoken to Kiki, Carole, and the group of children. Rooster was at his back, still whispering the way he had as they’d followed Stephen up the meadow. Rooster had promised a new society they’d build in the shadow of the Zapheads, even bragged about taking back the compound, but he’d also veered from delusions of grandeur into sudden bouts of paranoid rage.

“Who’s there?” Kiki asked.

Rooster whispered in DeVontay’s ear. “Be cool. We don’t want to scare them.”

“It’s me,” DeVontay called out. “I met some people down there.”

“What kind of people?”

“One of them shot at me,” Stephen said.

“No,” Rooster said. “One of my men thought you were a Zap. Sneaking around in the weeds like that.”

Rooster pushed DeVontay toward the group and the mist parted a little. The kids looked miserable, shivering with the damp chill. They huddled against one another, Kiki covering them as best she could. Carole cradled the smallest toddler, who was mercifully asleep. Stephen stood apart from the group, his head down as if he expected DeVontay to yell at him.

Shapes moved in the mist, but DeVontay had only a vague sense of them. The wet, gray smoke around them had thickened until the visible world was barely thirty feet in diameter. The hidden moon suffused the ceiling of the sky with a lurid silver glow.

“Zaps are on the move,” Rooster said. “You should have stayed in the compound.”

“You abandoned us,” Kiki snapped. “All of you.”

“We could have counterattacked. But we got scattered around out here along the river road. I don’t know where the horseback riders are. So we need to find a safe place to regroup.”

“What about the house?” Kiki asked DeVontay.

“Rooster’s right,” DeVontay said. “We need to get out of the area.”

He wondered if Rooster planned to assume command of the group. If Rooster had a vision of a utopian society, with himself in the role of benevolent dictator, then the man had little to offer outside of the compound. Inside, he’d been able to impose martial law, but out here, even a few guns seemed futile against the new rulers of the planet.

But at least they could buy a little time and figure out their next move while appeasing Rooster.

“Sorry I yelled out,” Stephen said to him.

“It’s okay, Little Man. You did a good job getting back to the group.”

That drew a shy smile from the boy. Kiki seemed wary of Rooster, not trusting him after his treatment of them in the compound. But DeVontay urged her to gather the kids and get them moving. He collected the remaining rations, and then dumped the trash off the blanket. Carole calmed a little girl who was scared of the “men with guns.”

“I hear something, Rooster,” one of the fog-shrouded men said.

“Don’t shoot unless you see something,” Rooster replied. “Else we’ll be mowing each other down in the dark.”

“We need to get these kids to shelter soon,” Kiki said to him. “If that house is no good, we better find another one. They’ll all be sick.”

“Good news,” Rooster said to one of the kids. “We’re going to Milepost 291. All the candy you can eat, a swimming pool, and boxes and boxes of toys.”

The exhausted kid clapped her small hands in delight, but Stephen’s eyes narrowed. “There’s not any toys at Milepost 291.”

“Shh, Little Man,” DeVontay said. “Let’s just get there, and then we can worry about it.”

“Little Man.” Rooster chuckled. “Guess you two are real buddies, huh? Can I be your buddy, too? Since we’re all in it together now?”

Rooster reached out to high-five Stephen, but the boy stepped back, wary. Kiki and Carole had the children up and herded together, half-dragging a couple who were almost sleepwalking.

“Mind giving us a hand?” Kiki asked Angelique in a stern voice.

“Who made you Queen Bitch?”

“We’ll get out of here faster if you help, and that will give you more time to paint your nails.”

“Now, now, ladies,” Rooster said. “No fighting. Unless it’s Zapheads.”

DeVontay piled the remaining food back in the blanket and hoisted the bundle again, eager to get out of there. Despite the fog, he felt exposed and vulnerable. And he was convinced Zapheads didn’t rely solely on sight to track humans. They might be “watching” right now from just inside the veil of fog.

“Okay, Little Man, why don’t you and DeVontay go on ahead, and we’ll follow? I’ll have my men bring up the rear so the Zaps don’t sneak up on us.”

Stephen glanced at DeVontay, who nodded. Stephen had taken only three steps when Rooster reached out and snatched him by the collar of his shirt, yanking him close.

“What the hell?” DeVontay said, dropping the bundle.

“We have to move fast,” Rooster said. “That means leave the baggage behind.” He called out to his men. “Take care of them like I promised.”

The first shot blew open the skull of a young girl, followed immediately by several shrill screams. DeVontay spun around, searching for the killer in the dark, and several more shots rang out. A dark blotch erupted on Carole’s chest and she collapsed, and a couple more children fell.

DeVontay felt as if he were clawing his way up from a tar pit. Two more children had dropped before he realized what was happening, and his shout mixed with the screams and the gunfire. When he turned back to Stephen, Rooster had his gun pressed against Stephen’s head. “This ain’t no time to play hero,” Rooster said, his voice as cold as the deepest crack in space.

Kiki shrieked and tried to shield the few remaining children, and DeVontay watched in horror as a series of red holes appeared along her thighs. James took off running toward the forest, rapidly vanishing into the fog, but the other kids lay in a bloody, quivering, moaning pile of carnage.

DeVontay could barely breathe, and he briefly wondered if he’d been shot himself. But his wound was internal, in a place that would never heal and wasn’t merciful enough to kill him.

Kiki was still alive, rolled onto her side, reaching out to aid one of the mortally wounded children despite her own injuries. DeVontay took a step toward her but Rooster shook his head and said, “Not if you want Little Man to keep his skull.”

Angelique walked over to Rooster and slid a semiautomatic pistol from his holster, then stood over Kiki.

Kiki looked up with defiance flashing in her brown eyes, although her face twisted with pain. “Burn…in…hell.”

“I’ve wanted to do this for a while.” Angelique pointed the pistol at Kiki’s forehead. Kiki kept her eyes open, staring at her killer.

“No, please,” DeVontay begged, more to Rooster than Angelique.

Rooster laughed. “We could have left them alive, but you know how Zapheads are. Carrying off these bodies will slow them down. They like them better dead than alive, and it’s the neighborly thing to do.”

Angelique knelt over Kiki, her pretty features now sinister and ugly, like a demonic mask had been slipped over her head. She was clearly enjoying her power. But Kiki didn’t falter.

“Die,” Angelique said. “Die.”

“You hear that?” whispered the man who’d shot at Stephen from the house.

“All I hear is you flapping your jaws,” Rooster said.

Then DeVontay heard it, too, a repetitive sound that melded with the noise of the night crickets and the riverbank frogs, becoming steadily louder. At first it was like a low drumbeat, but then the rhythm took on distinct phonetic.

“Die die die die die DIE DIE DIE…”

The Zapheads came out of the mist from all sides.