Wrath (Chapter 15)

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WRATH: The Third Deadly Sin

Mid-afternoon, the following day

"You're getting a sunburn. It could slow your healing," Clutch said.

I touched my cheek where Doc had taken out the stitches a couple hours earlier. The bright sun warmed my skin. I looked down at Clutch. "What's taking them so long? They should've been back hours ago."

"Maybe the Lady Amore was farther out then Tyler thought."

"The herds could be showing up as early as today."

He shook his head. "The latest recon to the north shows them at least two days out, longer if they stop along the way. Jase will make it back okay."

Clutch didn't leave my side, so I knew he was as concerned about Jase as I was.

Just before the sun had crested this morning, we'd watched Jase and Tack disappear around the bend of the island. They'd been in the fastest deck boat we had, tugging behind it a large yellow tube containing the trio from the riverboat. Before the outbreak, the tube would have carried squealing kids as they bounced over the waves. Today's passengers were far more somber, especially considering one was dead.

Since Jase and Tack had left, Clutch and I had circled the deck countless times, taking breaks only for food and when Doc came for me. My anxious nerves were making it impossible to focus on anything. At noon, Griz begged Tyler to let him take a small crew out to find Tack and Jase. We all hoped that the reason they weren't back yet was because they'd had trouble finding Sorenson's boat. Any other alternative meant something had gone seriously wrong. I tried to focus on the positive, but as the day went on, horrible imaginings began to cycle through my mind.

I shaded my eyes against the sun and looked out over the river for any sign of either boat. Even with sunglasses, the glare off the water gave me a headache. An engine noise to my right pulled my gaze to find Kurt returning on a Jet Ski from his scouting run in the north. The Jet Ski, which we'd found at a dock a few miles upriver, had extra plastic fuel tanks strapped on both sides, and Kurt wore a large backpack. He'd had enough fuel and food for a three-day trip, but he'd been gone only two days. "I wonder how close the herds are now," I said.

Clutch wrapped his gloved hand around my mine. "Come on. Let's head back to the galley and grab a snack. There's nothing we can do out here except wear holes in the deck."

I looked to the south another time, still seeing nothing. "I guess you're right."

I moped as we headed back toward the galley. Clutch rolled slowly over the deck boards. After several feet, he came to an abrupt stop, peeled off his worn gloves, and picked at a blister on his hand, grumbling under his breath.

I picked his gloves off his lap and rubbed at the soft leather with holes and slashes. "Wow. These are worthless. You really need a new pair."

"That's not going to happen. I can't find any more. What I need is to get rid of this chair and back on my feet."

I wanted to snap back at his infuriating refusal to give his body time to heal. Instead, I dropped his gloves with a smack on his lap and gripped his shoulder. "A week ago you couldn't even stand. Just be patient."

"It's hard to be patient when we've got a shit storm of zeds heading this way."

Good point. I left my hand on his shoulder while I looked to the north. I forced a smile. "The zeds aren't here yet. So you can be patient a little longer."

"Hmph," he replied.

As I turned to look back down at Clutch, something in the distance caught my eye. I stepped back and lifted my rifle to look through the scope. Off the edge of the island, a deck boat with several people in it came jetting around the corner. I quickly made out Jase's sandy, shaggy hair.

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