Even though I was able to move much more quietly and quickly than with a group, I was still not even close to my normal, uninfected, speed. But at least I didn't feel like I was in danger of alerting GW to my presence. I concentrated on each step, hoping that if I did, there wouldn't be enough room in my head to think about anything else, including the fact that I had absolutely no clue what I was doing. I had a weapon and I'd killed a few Zombies before, that was true, but I'd never been hunting, not really. And I'd certainly never hunted a human.
I must've been walking for an hour or two, because I lost track of time. Suddenly, to my left, I heard a noise. I froze, my infected brain short-circuiting as it tried to decide on the best course of action. Should I hide and see if it was GW? Should I challenge him outright, meet him head on? What if it wasn't him? What if it was a wild animal like the boar I'd killed, or the bear? I shook my head. I didn't want to think about that. I couldn't, not if I was going to—
The brush parted.
I let out a high-pitched shriek that, under other circumstances, might have been funny. As it was, my outburst made the rabbit turn, mid-leap, and bound off in a different direction. I let out a stream of swear words.
"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
I spun, spear poised to throw. But some part of my brain told me that if I just randomly threw my only weapon, I'd be at a huge disadvantage. I knew, instinctively, who the owner of the voice was. It was the psycho kidnapper. It had to be. And I also knew my spear was the only thing I had going in my favor. Well, that and the rage simmering inside me.
"I bet Lilly couldn't bear to hear you talking like that."
I gritted my teeth at the bear comment. A sound that was an awful lot like a growl came from deep in my throat. My fingers tightened around the spear, but I kept my temper in check and looked at the man who'd been responsible for so much sorrow. As I looked at him, my chest rose and fell rapidly, and I seethed with hatred.
He was about my age, which surprised me. Even though I was in my mid-twenties, married, and had a kid, I still thought of myself as young. Mom, Kieran—those guys were old. And when I'd pictured GW, I'd automatically assumed he was older as well. Instead, he looked to be only a couple years older than me. If he was a day over thirty, I'd be surprised. But he was massive. Not just tall and skinny, like someone who'd hit a growth spurt and was all arms and legs. No, he was big all over, with broad shoulders that were easily twice the size of mine, and arms that were almost as big around as my legs. He wasn't fat though. He looked like a linebacker, the kind of guy a football coach would drool over.
But I didn't give a shit about any of that. He could have been King Kong for all I cared. "I'm gonna kill you, you sorry son-of-a-bitch!" I yelled.
He grinned, showing two rows of jagged, yellowing teeth. I was suddenly reminded of a story I'd read to Les about a troll who lived under a bridge. He'd been fine, but it had unnerved me. I suppose in some subconscious way, I'd known there was a monster lurking, just out of sight, waiting to hurt the people I loved.
"Now, now, Jack. Shouldn't we do introductions before getting to the nasty stuff?" His dark eyes glittered, and suddenly the resemblance hit me like a slap in the face.
"You're related to Garret," I said. Okay, maybe I was a little slow on the uptake even for a Zombie. But the guy had Garret's build, Garret's dark hair, his eyes, and even his psycho smile. Put all of that together and it was more than obvious.
"Aw . . . look who's a smart Zombie," he mocked. "Too bad that moron of a sheriff isn't infected. Maybe it would've made him smarter too. He hasn't even gotten close. But I guess worrying yourself sick over your daughter and grandson makes it a little hard to concentrate."
