Palimpsest (Book 3): Coins for Charon by P.J. Post

Author:P.J. Post [Post, P.J.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction | Post-Apocalyptic
Published: 2017-05-31T06:00:00+00:00

§§§§§

“Lane!” Sam shouts.

Keats is waiting for me when I get to the bottom of the ladder.

The warning is too late.

“Gun,” he demands over the muzzle of a double-barrel shotgun, and then motions me out of the small room.

I slowly step into the dimly lit hall as he steps aside, keeping his distance.

Brenda’s wearing a triumphant smile; she has her rifle pointed at Jem again.

Jem’s leaning against the plaster and glass wall of one of the offices along the hallway; Emily’s arms are wrapped protectively around her. They’re both glaring at Brenda.

Sam looks defeated, these were her friends. She trusted them.

I set Pixie down and hand my .45 to Keats, but he doesn’t look happy to take it.

“The little girl, she bit?” he asks.

I nod.

“How long?”

“I told you, it’s been over twenty minutes,” Brenda shouts.

Allen walks down the hall, his .45 out. I wonder if he’s figured out how the safety works. “What’s going on?”

“How’s that possible?” Keats asks.

“He has a cure, that’s how!” Brenda says.

“Shut up, Bren. Show me.” He motions with my pistol. “Show me your bite.” His tone is full of frustration. His patience is wearing thin. I think Keats makes for a better bottle washer than he does a cook.

I open my coat.

He whistles. “So there is a cure.”

“No, I don’t know…I didn’t turn, that’s all I got. Jem won’t either.”

“You’re awfully confident on that score, confident enough to risk our necks?”

“There’s a cure? You’ve been holding out?” Allen asks. He steps closer and aims his gun at my chest like it’s the hip thing to be doing. “At the tent, that soldier guy, you had a cure and you killed him anyway?”

Keats ignores Allen. “Holly, the girl missing the arm, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about why she’s healing so fast would you?”

Allen raises his voice, “Yeah, you took her in that room, just the three of you, right after, what did you do to her?” he demands, staring at Sam. His gun slowly begins to drift toward her.

I try to ignore Allen too, and give Keats my attention. “I don’t really know you, but you seem decent enough, trustworthy. If I could help you, I would.” The lie is easy. “But how exactly would someone like me get a cure to the zombie apocalypse?”

Keats laughs.

“This isn’t fucking funny!” Allen is like a dog with a bone now.

“Kid, step off,” Keats says.

Brenda is getting twitchy. Every time Allen says something she gets more agitated, more pumped.

Can Jem survive getting shot?

What’s the limit of Pixie Dust?

I hear a murmur and look down the hallway to see all of the other kids, the fires of Freemont churning up the night behind them, but through the filthy old glass of the huge window — it looks like halos of flame.

Casey still has pigtails sticking out of the top of her head, she’s helping Holly Hawk walk. Holly’s in a lot of pain, her face is still bandaged and so is her arm, they’ve both stopped bleeding through. She looks to be doing better.

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