Condemn (BUNKER 12 Book 2) (40 page)

"BIX!"

Finn grabbed the unbroken safety cable
and leaned as far over the side as he possibly could. The frayed
and twisted remains of the bridge disappeared out of sight beneath
him.

"Bix?"

A ball of white smoke, tinged red,
hovered over the canyon like a bleeding apparition. It immediately
started to dissipate and drift away.

Far below, scattered along both banks
of the river, were the bodies of a dozen Wraiths. Finn searched for
Bix among them, but he couldn't tell any of the mangled forms apart
as they were all wearing the same desert camos.

He sucked in a sharp breath. These
weren't just random Wraiths. This is where the rest of Cheever's
men had gone. Adrian had infected them.

On the opposite side of the canyon,
the other half of the bridge hung in a knot against the rock face.
Wraiths still fell from it, their bodies crashing from one
outcropping to the next until they slammed to the ground. None of
them moved after that.

"Bix!"

"Well now, I have to say I
did
not
expect
that."

Finn spun around and came face to face
with the business end of a rifle that looked all-too
familiar.

"Ingenious way to escape them things.
Not very smart for your buddy, I'm afraid."

Finn's eyes flicked to the spot where
he'd thrown his rifle, but it was gone. A pistol rested in a
holster against the man's hip.

"Come on now, boy," the man said. "I
don't want you to hurt yourself, so why don't you step away from
the edge. Slowly."

"Who are you?" Finn
demanded.

"Shucks, shame on me for not formally
introducing myself. Where are my manners?" He tipped his head
slightly. "Name's Ramsay. Wayne Ramsay. And you are the young Finn
Bolles, if I'm not mistaken. Somehow, I
expected . . . more."

Finn stared at the man without
replying.

"Sorry about your friend. Heroic thing
he did for you. Such a waste."

Rage filled Finn.

"Come on now, boy. Let's go. I know
someone who will be delighted to see you after all this time. Time
does make the heart grow fonder, don't it?"

"If you've hurt her—"

"Oh, I ain't talking about that pretty
little girl of yours. Bren, is it? Short for Brenda? Or is it
Brendina?"

Finn's eyes narrowed. He flicked his
gaze past Ramsay and into the woods behind him.

"Don't worry. She ain't here. It's
just you and me. The good reverend — you remember him,
right? — he's gone ahead. The rest of the party'll be coming
along soon enough."

"How did you know we'd come this
way?"

"Didn't, to be honest. But we needed
to make sure no one tried to cut us off at the pass." He snickered
at the joke. "May I call you Finnegan? Or is it
Finnster?"

Finn tried to suppress his growing
rage. He wasn't sure he'd be able to keep his cool. "You're one of
Cheever's men, from the camp, aren't you? You're the one who
arranged the deals with Adrian and Jennifer. You sold my friends to
be turned into Wraiths."

"They begged to be saved, boy. They
said, 'Save us, please! Save us!' Who am I to deny them
that?"

"Liar!"

Ramsay gave him a fake frown. "You
saying you don't believe in salvation? Then I guess there's no hope
for your lovely Bren. Or anyone else, for that matter." He barked
out a laugh that echoed across the canyon. "Of course it's a lie,
boy! Everyone knows it! Everyone but that damned reverend and his
sister!"

Sister? Jennifer was his
sister!

"Your girl, now, I bet she begs
good."

"You're sick."

He dismissed the insult with a
shrug.

"Why did you kill Cheever?"

The man's smile faltered. "The
captain? He couldn't lead himself out of a paper bag. Shame,
though, that he had to go that way. He'd have made a good infected,
like the rest of them."

"Why?" Finn gestured at the canyon.
"Why infect all this people?"

Ramsay dug into his pocket with his
free hand and pulled out a walkie-talkie. It looked just like the
one they'd seen back in the camp. "Had to make sure you didn't
escape back over the bridge. Amazing piece of technology, this
thing. One press of the button puts them to sleep. Another wakes
them up. No idea how it works, though."

Cold realization flowed through Finn.
The Wraiths were never meant to reach them on the bridge. Bix had
died for nothing, just as Ramsay had implied.

"Sure glad to see you brought a bike
across. Either super brave or super stupid, but riding sure beats
walking any day."

He waved the gun, urging Finn to his
feet. Finn didn't move. "Come on, boy, get your sorry ass up. Don't
make me hurt you."

"You won't. Adrian won't let
you."

"Accidents happen. And if you're dead,
he won't need pretty little Bren anymore. Be a shame to infect her,
turn her into such a horrible, frightening thing. Of course, I
could just let you watch first. The rev won't care. He can have her
after I've had—"

"Bastard!" Finn leapt, but the man
backhanded him across the face as easily as if he were swatting a
fly. Finn went reeling into the dirt.

"Stop sniveling and stand
up!"

Finn screamed in rage. He grabbed a
fistful of dirt and threw it into the man's face. Ramsay backed
away, spitting dust and coughing. He swiped at his eyes,
swearing.

Finn tried to pounce, but the man was
still too quick. He had the rifle up and pointed at his chest. Fury
filled his bloodshot eyes. "Do that again and—"

"You're a sick man," Finn screamed.
His voice echoed through the canyon. "If there is salvation, you'll
never get it."

Ramsey spun the gun around in the air
and raised it over his head, as if he meant to smash the butt
against Finn's teeth.

Finn didn't move. "Go ahead," he
growled. "Do it!"

They stared at each other for a
moment, then the fury evaporated from Ramsay's face, replaced
instead with a cold, hard, emotionless stare.

"Won't mess up that pretty face of
yours before your girl gets a chance to see you."

He stepped back, chuckling. Then he
sidled over to the edge of the gorge to check below. He kept the
rifle pointed at Finn the whole time, his finger on the trigger and
his eye on Finn's face, trying to judge if Finn might try to charge
him again.

"Just need to make sure
this Bix fellow— What the hell kind of name is that anyway? Bix?
Sounds like the sound a bird makes when it's puking.
Bix! Biiix!
"

He laughed at Finn's rage.

"Just need to make sure that he's, you
know, really dead before we leave."

Finn got to his feet.

"Uh uh! Stay right there." He raised
the gun, seating it into the crook of his arm, then grabbed an
anchor post for support and leaned over.

Finn stepped forward. He didn't care
at that moment if he got shot. He couldn't let the man live. He
took a step just as the shot rang out.

The man's head disappeared in a cloud
of red. And when it cleared a moment later, half of his face was
gone. He tilted further out over the side, as if it might help him
see better, then he let go of the cable and fell.

A moment later, the muzzle of a rifle
appeared over the edge. "You just going to stand there?" Bix
panted. "Or are you going to give me a hand up?"

They found Ramsay's rucksack just inside the line of trees. It was
filled with food, water, and ammunition, although the rounds fit
the pistol and so were essentially useless to them. They also found
two more claymore mines.

There was no second motorbike in
sight, however. He had crossed the cable bridge on foot and
evidently planned to walk up to the main road.

"Junction's just a couple miles," Finn
said, digging through the other pockets. He was still shaking badly
and could barely speak.

"You're welcome, by the way. Climbing
those damn metal cables was a pain in the ass."

"You think I'm going to thank you for
that?" Finn snapped. "If you ever do something like that again,
I'll—"

"You said that the last time, too, you
know. Anyway it worked."

"I thought you were dead!"

"What else was I going to do?" Bix
asked.

"I told you! Forget the bike! That's
what I said. Run, I said! But no, you had to explode the freaking
bomb and get yourself killed!"

"I didn't kill myself! And if I hadn't
done that, those Wraiths would have been on us in
seconds!"

"Actually not! That guy had this thing
to control them. But now it's gone."

"I didn't know that!"

"If you had just listened to me," Finn
panted, "if you had just run, then we both would have made it to
the edge in time."

"And we'd have no motorcycle. And that
asshole would be alive!"

"Gaaah!"

"I'll take that as a thank you and say
you're welcome."

Finn didn't answer.

"Look, we've got the advantage now,
bro. Adrian's not expecting to meet up with that guy until he gets
to the junction, which means he'll be totally unprepared for us
when we take him sooner. We've got the jump on him!"

He reached up to pry Finn's hands off
of his shirt. "We got this, man."

Finn pushed himself away. "No, we
don't! The plan never had a chance. The only reason we've gotten
this far is because we got lucky. If that idiot hadn't stuck his
head out for you to shoot—"

"I'd have blown it off after I reached
the top. Come on, man, stop dwelling on what-ifs. Bren needs you.
We all need you."

"I'm just going to get everyone
killed. Everything I do is wrong. I'm not Harper!"

Bix punched Finn in the face, though
not hard enough to knock him off his feet. "I've had it up to here
hearing about Harper! You're not him! You're you. You make your own
decisions."

"And look at all the people who've
died—"

"Look at the ones you've
saved!"

"Like who?"

"Byron and his sons. Plus who knows
how many more. And it was you who figured out I'm
immune!"

"That was just a guess! Jonathan and
Danny and Nami are dead. Dominic, Chip—"

"You can't save everyone, Finn. Come
on. Enough self-pity. We need to hurry before we lose our
advantage."

He stood up and walked back over to
the motorcycle and righted it. He wheeled it over, then switched
his backpack to the front and got on.

"Let's go, Finn. And no slobbering on
my shirt, either. I just got it and who knows when I'll be able to
wash it again. I ain't going out in public with snot on my
shoulder."

Finn snorted. "God, you're such an
asshole."

"Yeah, well this asshole is driving,
so you got shotgun. Literally."

He handed over their only remaining
rifle, then leaned forward so Finn could get on behind him. "Just
warn me if you plan on shooting anything, preferably things that
are not part of either one of us."

They reached the end of the access
road within minutes and turned onto the highway heading
east.

All sorts of emotions were swirling
through Finn. Aside from the shock and relief of what had happened
back there at the bridge, he was embarrassed at his breakdown. He
was supposed to be the stronger of the two. Bix was the more
immature — he'd even said so himself — and yet when they
were under pressure, Bix had been the one to think clearly. It was
obviously a side of his friend he'd never known existed.

"Your dad was right, Bix," he said.
"Your mom would be proud of you."

They rode for another half hour,
discussing how best to take Adrian by surprise, and in such a way
that didn't jeopardize the others.