Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 118

BREN

Colin's body was laid to rest in a small mausoleum in the middle of the cemetery. His body was still fresh, probably only dead two hours ago, a bundle of flowers laid on his chest. His eyes were closed, looking serene and peaceful, and I reckoned Audrey must have something to do with cleaning him up a bit. A pool of blood had formed where he had cracked his skull, dripping over the stone coffin and onto the concrete ground.

Christ. I shuddered to think about the children seeing him, losing their father at a time like this; it was horrible. They didn't even have time to bury him properly. A deep knot twisted at the back of my heart, and I looked away from the body.

There, in his hand, I caught something shoved between his palm and belly, a folded piece of paper. I pulled it out and recognized Miguel's handwriting:

Bren,

If you see this, then stay away from Randy. He killed Colin and hurt Bernadette. I don't know why he did this or where he went, but he took Holly and Indy with him in Cora, along with our guns. We are moving to the second meeting point. I hope you and the others are still alive, and by God, I hope you all make it there. If you see Randy by any chance, consider him armed and dangerous.

Miguel

I crumpled the paper in my fist.

Randy.

I had my doubts about him, but killing his brother and then leaving his family, well, that was just cold. And the fact that he stole our stuff, too...fire lit in my belly, and I had Randy's name burned over it.

"They're at the museum," I said as I walked out of the mausoleum. "And Randy killed Colin."

"Randy? Really?" Peter asked.

I gave him Miguel's note. "Says so in the note."

"He stole our stuff. Shifty motherfucker."

"I saw fresh tire tracks leading west. The wheel marks matched Cora's," said Jun.

"That's the way to the museum, too," Peter said.

"But we don't know where Randy could have gone then. There are a lot of confusing streets from here to the museum, and he could easily lose us if we follow," I said.

"He took Indy," said Haskell. "We gotta get him back."

"I know." I looked down at his hand, now bandaged, and the bleeding had stopped. It had been half an hour now, and so far, Haskell hadn't turned yet. He didn't even look sick. When he caught me looking, he drew his hand behind his back.

"I'm fine, Bren," he said. "I don't have the symptoms yet."

"Let's not worry about that right now," Peter said. "We know you got the slow one like Luke's. If you had the other, you're already one of them in minutes."

"Thanks for the reminder," Haskell said, "but I'm feeling alright. No fever. No puking. I don't feel weak, or have a headache, or nauseated, or whatever the CDC listed as the symptoms. I'm...me. I'm not craving anyone's blood or have the urge to attack you."

Lauren flinched when Haskell mentioned the latter, and even Yousef, Alfie, and Aria seemed wary. Jun never let me know whether he thought differently, but at least I could tell he's keeping an eye on Haskell, too.

"I know, Hoss, I know," Peter said, placing his hand on Haskell's shoulder. "Should we take a rest?" Peter asked me. It wasn't for us but for Haskell.