Free After: Whiteout (AFTER post-apocalyptic series, Book 4) by Scott Nicholson Page B

their chances out in the open. But before she could
articulate a plan, the concealed Zapheads from hiding and followed the man in
sunglasses. They exhibited none of the clumsy, staggering gait Rosa had come to associate with the mutants. Instead, they moved with a calculated animal
grace, as if they’d been playing possum all this time just to gain the element
of surprise.
    “We
should warn him,” Cathy said.
    “No!”
Joey writhed so hard he almost stood in Cathy’s arms. “He kill us.”
    “He
won’t kill us,” Cathy said. “He’s a soldier of our country. He’s one of us—”
    “Not
us.” Joey’s tiny lips curled in a pout and then he let out a wail of
discomfort, as if he had colic.
    Rosa scuttled away from the window, crouching low. The
baby’s cries would alert both the soldier and the Zapheads, and she wanted to
be out of there.  But before she could reach Marina, a gun fired and a man
screamed next door, the noise muffled behind the wall. Glass shattered and the
baby erupted with squeals of delight.
    Rosa
raced through the musty racks of clothes and grabbed Marina’s arm, using the
golf club as a cane to help maintain her balance on the slick wooden floor.
“Come on, we’re getting out of here.”
    “But
Momma, we can’t leave the baby.”
    “That’s
not a baby.”
    “You
said we had to stick together—”
    “Sometimes
mommas change their minds.” Rosa was determined to survive. Marina was more
important to her than all the babies in the world, especially Zaphead babies.
    Marina opened her mouth to argue, but then grabbed a stuffed
bear decked out in princess regalia before allowing Rosa to pull her toward the
rear of the store. As they navigated the cluttered storage room in back, Joey’s
wails changed pitch to a lower register, almost becoming a chant: “Not us,
not is, not us…”
    In
the darkness, Rosa lost her bearings and nearly fell over a row of appliances
and furniture. Nearly frantic, she bumped into a rough cinder-block wall and
followed it, soon coming to the smooth surface of a steel door. She bumped the
push bar with her hip, but it didn’t budge.
    “Help
me push,” she whispered to Marina, as Joey’s voice grew louder, echoing in the
cavernous thrift shop while Cathy tried to shush him. Marina banged her thin
shoulder against the door in time with Rosa, but it still held. Rosa ran her fingers along the jamb and felt an electronic keypad. The door wouldn’t open
without power and an access code. They were trapped.
    “Upstairs,”
Rosa whispered, pulling Marina back the way they had come.
    But
when she parted the curtain to Joey’s strident mantra, she changed her mind.
    Because
standing at the front window, looking in, were the two Zapheads. The male’s
clothes were wet with blood. The female held the soldier’s rifle.
    “ Dios
mio ,” Rosa whispered.
    But
God likely didn’t hear her, because now the Zapheads chanted in unison with
Joey: “Not us, not us, not us…”
 
     
     
    CHAPTER
EIGHT
     
     
     
    Rosa couldn’t scream, as much as she wanted to release the
hot panic welling in her lungs.
    She
forced herself to remain brave for Marina’s sake. But the Zapheads had taken a
horrifying turn. Not only were they speaking, they were communicating with one
another. Even more startling, they had exhibited cunning and teamwork in luring
the soldiers down the street. Rosa was now sure the boy and the old man had
used themselves as bait for the two Zapheads that waited in ambush. They’d been
willing to sacrifice their own lives in order to lay the trap.
    The
two Zapheads even managed to separate their adversaries—whether through luck or
cunning—and then killed one. Took his gun. And now looked ready to kill again.
    Cathy
backed away while little Joey squirmed and struggled in her arms, still wailing
“Not us.”
    “Stay
behind me,” Rosa whispered, grabbing Marina’s shirt sleeve. She edged toward
the stairs, hoping the Zapheads couldn’t see them in