Free Machines of the Dead 3 by David Bernstein Page B

during the day, then they would use the wood stove sparingly. 
    Maria stood over the captive. “He’s just a frightened old man. All alone.”
    “Yeah, and he shot our friend,” Zaun said.
    “I know.” Maria didn’t know if it was the man’s age, that he was alone, or just a culmination of all the violence she’d seen, but she actually felt bad for the guy. At the same time, she wanted to put a bullet into his brain—take no chance of another psycho entering their lives. Old didn’t mean feeble or kind.
    Tending to Jack, she didn’t know what to do. Let him be or repeat how they treated him in the Home Depot. His cheeks already appeared sunken in, his flesh paler. The bots worked quickly. It had only been about an hour since he had been shot.
    “I think we need to shock him,” she said.
    Zaun stood next to her. “Okay.”
    “I mean, if the bots did heal him the last time, really healed him, fixed him up to the best Jack he could be, then he should be able to handle the shock better than before.”
    “Makes sense.”
    Maria took out her Taser and exhaled noisily, not knowing if letting him be was the better course. Maybe he needed more time to mend, and by shocking him she’d hurt his chances at surviving. For all she knew, the bots were even stronger now, and shocking him would be the best thing. She just didn’t know anything for sure. Her only hope was that the little devils were the same, maybe even better, smarter, and would know not to kill their host. Take only enough from Jack to heal him, at least enough so he could wake and consume food so they could continue to heal him.
    That was wishful thinking, and she knew it.
    Pointing the Taser at him, she fired and held the trigger until the charge died. She checked him for a pulse and found a steady one and breathed easier.
    “We’re good,” she said.
    “Going to hit him again?”
    “No. Let’s wait and see what happens. Keep a close eye on him.”
    Zaun nodded. “I’m going to keep a lookout from the upstairs windows. Just in case.”
    “Good idea.”
    Maria was proud of Zaun, remembering how at one time she hadn’t much cared for him. She had thought he was a loser, a loose cannon that would get them all killed, and almost had. He wasn’t like her or Jack. He was a free-spirit, spoiled, a don’t-take-anything-too-seriously type of guy, and a drug addict. But he’d come a long way, helped her out a lot, became a man, a soldier, so to speak. She never thought she’d see the day he’d know the proper thing to do—and on his own—like keeping watch from the upstairs windows. Normally, that would have been something she had to tell him to do. It was a small thing, but it was nice to witness. If anything good did come from Jack’s out-of-commission status, it was Zaun having to man up and take things more seriously.
    Two hours passed by before the old man came to. Maria kneeled in front of him. He stared at her, a confused look on his face. Then recognition set in, fear along with it. His eyes went wide. 
    “Where’s my wife?” he asked.
    “Wife?”
    “Please don’t kill her. You didn’t kill her, did you? Oh, no. Please. No.”
    “Quiet,” Maria said, and threateningly raised her hand.
    Zaun descended the stairs and came into the room. “Asshole’s awake?”
    “Your wife’s not here,” Maria said.
    “You didn’t find her?”
    “No. Is she hiding in the house?” 
    “No. No. Not hiding.” The man seemed relieved. “She’s okay.” He spoke softly, to himself. Then a look of concern crossed his face and he locked eyes with Maria. “Did you go into the garage?”
    “No,” Maria said, then wondered why they hadn’t checked it out. Anyone in there would freeze after a time, but still . . .
    She got up. “We need to check the garage.”
    “No,” the old man shouted. He struggled to get up and wound up falling over. 
    Maria helped him to a sitting position. “Is your wife hiding in the garage, because if she is,