Death After Death (#2)

Chapter Forty-Two

The lactic acid was overflowing from Max's burning thighs as he continued to drive them like grinding pistons, away from the death and misery behind. Lizzie's limp body flopped over his shoulder, desperately trying to slump free at every given opportunity. His arms gripped her tighter than anything he had ever held, unwilling to let her slip from his grasp for a single second, even if it meant storming through a field of bullets.

They had been running for two minutes now, and the towering castle still loomed over them, but the hailstorm of shrapnel and screaming had ceased, leaving behind it an eerie silence that was somehow even more disturbing. As if The Brotherhood were secretly plotting, or tracking them from a distance, but these were just Max's wildest, most paranoid thoughts.

"Where are they? Can anyone hear them? Why aren't they chasing us?" Karl spurted through harsh and heavy breaths.

Max gritted his teeth, hoiking Lizzie's slipping frame back up onto the safety of his shoulder, "They aren't following us."

"How can you be so sure?" Karl asked, Max's confidence doing little to squash his fears.

"Because if they were, we would have a round of bullets in each of our backs by now, kid."

"But, why would they just let us go?" Karl added.

"Most of those crazy bastards back submitted to the infection long ago. You think they're going to shoot off on some revenge crusade when dozens of ready to eat bodies are literally in their front garden?" Max replied. "Sorry," he added, realising that Han lay among those corpses.

"Just beyond these trees," Paulo instructed through a hoarse whisper.

Max led the group past a thick group of oak trees, to a sweet melody of relieved sighs as a red, rusty pickup truck emerged from the greenery.

Dawson dived into the front seat and started the engine as the others clambered in behind her. The injured Paulo in the passenger seat, and the rest perched in the open back section.

Max placed Lizzie down gently on the metal floor, retrieving his gun from the other shoulder, just in case.

Karl's mood was momentarily lifted, as he spotted their supplies on the floor next to Lizzie. Max had instructed Paulo to find them a vehicle on his way to meet Joey, and to stash everything that they couldn't bring with them in it. It was just a stroke of luck that no one had stumbled upon it.

Karl gripped the smooth wood of his pool cue with delight, slamming the base on the ground as if he were an old-fashioned warrior, carrying his spear into a bloody battle.

The others simply rifled through the bag for much needed food and water.

Dawson slammed her foot down on the accelerator as soon as everyone was securely in the pickup, not wanting to linger there for a moment too long. The truck hurtled down the country dirt road towards Paulo's camp, with the guys in the back feeling every lump, bump, and tremor along the way.

"Is she okay?" JJ asked, his eyes staring down at Lizzie with sincere concern.

Max sighed, "I hope so...thanks to you."

"Thanks to Han," JJ corrected.

Max nodded. Thanks to Han.

***

The truck trundled slowly up the steep, forested incline, carefully weaving inbetween the trees and shrubbery. Branches slapped against the windscreen as Dawson snapped her wrists left and right to make her way safely through the wooden maze.

"Something isn't right," Paulo blurted, his weak, curled up body snapping to attention immediately.

"What do you mean?" Dawson asked urgently, easing onto the brakes.