From the Ash 2 by Dave Heron

Author:Dave Heron [Heron, Dave]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DevilDogPress

12

Friend Or Foe?

Tony and I didn’t say much after that. I told him I was tired and just wanted to go back to sleep. He nodded and turned the light off on the nightstand.

“I’ll be right here if you need anything,” he said from the chair.

I wrapped myself up in the blankets, turned on my side and was asleep almost instantly the moment my eyes closed. If not for the pills that Hobbs left for me, I don’t think I would’ve been able to sleep for fear of the nightmares I expected to greet me. Maybe the nothingness was foreboding, but I welcomed it. And before I knew it, I felt someone shaking me gently on the shoulder.

“Red, wake up.”

Multiple blurry Tonys welcomed me as my eyes fluttered open. I blinked rapidly, and suddenly became aware that the shimmering images that I thought were Tony’s face out of focus belonged to two other faces I didn’t recognize. Sunlight beamed in from the window and shone brightly on their outfits and features. Both were dressed in similar dark tactical gear: vest, elbow and knee pads, gloves, boots, the full SWAT look. All that was missing was the helmet. Instead, they had goggles resting atop their heads, and bandanas wrapped around their necks. I felt like a deer in headlights as my eyes darted between them. A male with jet black hair stood over Tony’s left shoulder; he stepped forward and moved in front of him. Tony stood aside without a word and went to stand next to a woman with long blonde hair who rested near the door.

“Can you stand?” the male asked. His tone or demeanor didn’t come off as crude or sharp, but rather full of concern as he looked me over. Which was hard to do with a twelve-gauge shotgun strapped across his chest and the barrel facing me.

I looked over at Tony to get some sort of sense of what the hell was going on. He stood there motionless with his hands behind his back and eyes to the floor. I wasn’t sure what I thought he’d do, but after the aggression he unleashed on the door, a part of me expected him to kill these two, and anyone else who came through the door, until he got us the hell away from here.

“Phoenix,” the man said, drawing my attention back to him at the sound of my name. He was middle aged, and a very thin face matched his lanky frame. The scars running the length of his jawline were probably from a bad case of acne. He raised his eyebrows and asked again, “Can you stand?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, honestly. “Who are you?”

“My name’s Zack. And over there is Carly,” Zack said, pointing at the woman, with way too much makeup, near the door. She gave a simple nod. “Doc sent the two of us to escort you to the dining room. He would like to have breakfast with you this morning.”

I stared at him for a moment before answering, “So, you’re Doc’s…people?”

Zack shrugged.

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