Dead America: Lowcountry | Book 5 | Lowcountry [Part 5]

DEAD AMERICA
LOWCOUNTRY
PART 5
BY DEREK SLATON
© 2021


CHAPTER ONE
“Morning, Princess,” Troy drawled as Grace stretched, groaning as her back crackled.
She wasn’t quite awake enough to level him with a proper glare, so instead she twisted back and forth, relishing in the crackles of her spine. A ragged yawn overtook her, and she rubbed her eyes.
“Needs her sleep after yesterday’s badassery,” Hawk said, his deep voice echoing through the cells. “I’ll be honest, girl, I didn’t think you’d be so good at this.”
She wrinkled her nose and pulled out her saggy ponytail. “Killing zombies?” she asked dryly. “Or trying to survive under threat of getting eaten or killed by a group of insane assholes?”
Hawk chuckled, shaking his head. “All of the above,” he admitted. “No offense, but you don’t look like much in a fight at first glance.”
“You know, when somebody starts a sentence with ‘no offense’, it’s usually offensive,” she said as she wound her unruly hair back up into a messy bun.
He shook his head. “Just being honest,” he said. “I mean granted, you survived this long, but seeing you in action yesterday was surprising.”
“Can’t say the same about the others they had with us,” Eddie muttered, stretching his lean frame down to touch his toes. He was a stark contrast to Hawk, who was a beast of a man, but despite his wiry body, he was ruthless out in the field.
“Yeah,” Troy agreed, shaking his head as he lounged back on his bed. “Those poor suckers didn’t know what hit ‘em. It was almost more of a liability having to deal with them then an asset having extra bodies to help out.”
Grace sighed. “They’re fucked either way,” she mused. “Either they’re useful and they try to help and die, or they refuse and QXR kills them.”
“What else are any of us supposed to do?” Troy asked, though he wasn’t speaking to anyone in particular. “We have to do as they say, with who they say.”
She grabbed a water bottle from beside her bed from the night before and took a long swig.
Troy shrugged. “At least we’ve got a warm bed and food and drink,” he amended.
“I’d rather have to find that shit myself and be free,” she replied.
“We’d be fighting zombies either way,” he said.
She shook her head. “On our terms, though. Everything we do right now isn’t for us. It’s so that QXR can solidify their own position of power.”
“What do you think they’ll do with us once the island is clear?” Hawk asked, and the insinuation hung in the air.
Grace took another long swig and swallowed slowly. “I don’t think we have to worry about that anytime soon,” she replied. “Seems like the clearing is endless.”
“Except it’s not endless,” Eddie cut in as he stretched to the side. “It’s going to run out. You think they’ll carve out a little community for us to just chill in?”
Troy snorted. “Not likely,” he said, and crossed his feet at the ankles, making the most of their relax time. “Though I don’t think we’ll be useless. There’ll be floors to sweep and dishes to do.”
“I guess it’s better than being shot,” Hawk muttered.
Eddie rolled his eyes as he twisted his torso back and forth, hopping from foot to foot. “Not by much,” he retorted. “But the fact still stands that we need to make sure that we’re as useful to them as we can be. It’s not like this is going to be a vacation spot for us once all the zombies are cleared out.”
Grace leaned forward, resting her arms on her knees. “Maybe for them.”
“Rise and shine, pissants!” Mosley declared as he descended the steps to their cell block, clapping his hands loudly. “Oh, you’re already awake. Such excited puppies, ready for their next playdate.”
Grace clenched her jaw, resisting the urge to glare at him. How she hated this man.
“Get some good rest?” he asked with a sneer. “What about you, city boy?” He tapped on the bars to Troy’s cell and clicked his tongue. “Accommodations up to snuff for you?”
“Oh yeah, five stars,” the New Yorker drawled, not sitting up.
Mosley glanced over the crew, making sure they were paying attention. “You fuckers get to go clear the mall today!” he said brightly, spreading his arms. When there was no response, he looked back and forth, eyebrows raising. “What, no cheers? You should be fucking ecstatic that you get to go out and do this instead of taking a bullet to the head, no?”
“We’re already doing all your grunt work,” Eddie declared, leaning on the bars. “Is it a requirement to be happy about it, too?”
“Gratitude would be nice,” Mosley snapped, narrowing his eyes. “I could kill all of you.”
Grace finally looked up at him, feigning surprise and putting a hand to her chest. “But then who would do all your dirty work?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes. “You’re clearly incapable of doing it yourself.”
“Bitch, I have no problem showing you exactly what I’m capable of doing,” he growled, drawing his lower lip between his teeth.
She forced herself not to wither under his leer, but her skin crawled at the insinuation. If he made a move on her, she knew she could probably hold her own in fighting him off, but that would likely mean death. But the other option—just laying down and taking it—was just not an option.
“What do you say, hm?” he asked, voice sickly sweet. “You need me to show you what real dirty work is like?”
“Go fuck yourself,” she snapped.
He growled, taking a step towards her cell.
“That’s enough,” No Name declared, entering the hallway from the stairwell. He carried a tray of steaming bowls and set it down on a small table next to the door.
Mosley scowled at him, eyes narrowing. “I’m busy,” he snapped.
“So am I,” No Name replied, crossing his arms and straightening his broad shoulders. “These four have a big job today and I need to get them to it, so get lost.”
Mosley snarled, stalking