When it came to her safety and mine, I wouldn't take any risks.
Twelve
Liv
“You’re clear on what we’re doing?” Cruz asked, his brown eyes searching my features.
Being around him made me feel safer in a world where danger lurked in every shadow. Nothing seemed to faze him. He had the ability to remove emotion from the process and see the mission as a series of steps, a skill I was quickly trying to learn. "Yep. It's all locked away."
“Keep talking to me. If you’re struggling, let me know as soon as it starts. Don’t let it drag on.”
“Got it.” I had no desire to be the weakest link in this partnership, but I wouldn’t lie and throw us both into a dangerous situation either. "Is there even the slightest chance we're going to put all this effort into distracting them only to find out they went back to their car to wait us out? What if they've been there the whole time?"
He didn't need to think about my question for long. "Based on what I know about violent knuckleheads, they won't be there. Waiting at the car would be a passive move and men like that see it as weak." He slipped his backpack on and checked the weapons on his belt. "Hunting people down like wild animals makes them feel powerful. They're bored, they thrive on this shit, and we're going to use it to our advantage."
Cruz handed me my pack and wandered over to the window as I pulled it on. "If anyone's guarding the car," he said, throwing me a glance over his shoulder, "it'll be the guy they see as the most dispensable, which coincidentally makes him an easier target for us. Ready?"
He sounded so calm and in control that I inadvertently absorbed some of his confidence. It didn't hurt that he'd been trained to deal with these situations in his previous career either. "I'm good to go."
Rather than chance running into one of the men on the stairs that led up to the apartment, Cruz climbed out onto the ledge and sidled across to the drainpipe. With no ladder to make our descent easier, he used the drain to shimmy down as far as he could, then dropped to street level with a soft thud. I followed, and he stood watch as I landed beside him in the alley.
Our eyes briefly met, and his features were hard and alert. After a quick check of the alley in both directions, Cruz took off toward the main street with me sticking close behind. My eyes jumped from the knife in his hand to the gun peeking from the rear waistband of his jeans. My heart thudded at a steady gallop, and part of me still couldn't believe this was my life now.
His backpack bounced against his spine as he increased his pace, and I quickened my steps to keep up with him. Nerves churned in my stomach, but underneath the fear was a level of determination I hadn’t experienced before. We were going on the offensive and making a move. No more hiding. It felt good, not just to be involved in a mission for the first time, but to be taking on that challenge with Cruz.
He glanced over his shoulder and pointed to the left, reminding me we were heading in the opposite direction of the one we’d come from earlier. Our plan was to circle around and approach the car from the other side of the street, giving us a better vantage point to track the men before we made our final move. We still had a few tasks to take care of first, though.
Two of the infected ambled toward us, and Cruz and I downed one each, dragging them across to a shop doorway to conceal their bodies.
“Keep moving.” He nodded toward the corner.
We took off at a leisurely run and turned onto Wilson Street, dodging the dead whenever we could to conserve energy and keep our location a secret. Minutes later, we were continuing along Barton Avenue which swung around in an arc for around five hundred metres or so, leading to the open area where the collection of vehicles had caused the traffic congestion.
No signs of trouble, no strange sounds.
We were looking good.
Our pace had my breaths coming faster, but it was more of a comfortable run than the long sprint I’d done earlier by myself. The side of me that hated jump scares imagined the men hiding nearby waiting to pounce, but the rational part of my brain reminded me they’d never operated that way in the past. It wouldn't make sense for them to start sneaking around now.
“All good?” Cruz asked, stopping momentarily to check on me.
Nervous energy flowed through me, but it felt like the positive kind that helped me focus and get the job done. “I'm doing fine.”
He took in my expression, examining my features as if to confirm that my words matched my body language. When he seemed content with what he found, he glanced over my shoulder and back at me. “You remember what comes next?”
“Under control, boss.”
For a split second, his eyes gleamed with humour, then he spun his knife around until he was holding it in an overhand grip. "Let's get to work then."
Together we deviated from the main street and headed down a cobblestone laneway housing a row of trendy pubs and cafes. I’d been appointed the task of lighting a fire in the pub smack in the middle of the row—Shenanigans—and even now I struggled to wrap my mind around the concept of intentionally destroying what had once been someone’s livelihood.
I checked the lane in both directions then pushed through the smashed door and stepped inside.
Cruz waited for me on the footpath and kept watch. If the men showed up, my job was to run out the back and escape while he kept them occupied. I hadn’t been able to budge him on that point, and I’d already accepted that I needed to choose my battles where he was concerned.
Apart from the broken door, the interior of the pub was mostly undisturbed. Chairs were resting upside down on the tabletops, and many of the bottles on the shelves were still in place. Only a few gaps in the rows of liquor suggested that humans had been in here at some point to help themselves. There were no sounds inside to cause concern, so I stowed my sword.
Shattered glass crunched underfoot as I walked to the bar. I slipped behind the counter and pulled open drawers, rummaging through them until I found a checkered tea towel. Using my knife to knick the edge, I ripped the material into several strips and shoved the bundle in my pocket for later. Moving onto my next task, I collected four bottles of alcohol from behind the counter, tugging off my backpack to wedge three of them inside the already cramped space. I upended the fourth and poured the entire contents along the length of the bar's wooden surface.
