Chapter 27

Jackson did what he had to do, and I couldn't bear to watch. I said my goodbyes and now we are getting ready to get out of this place. A more thorough search of the place showed a few zombies in their work attire already dead. Probably from the same people that were here. We found a locker room, but it contained nothing other than some fresh bodies. It looked like whoever came didn't plan on killing the girl because she was shot in the stomach. It's also probably the reason she turned, and her dad didn't. We found a boy in the same position as Robert that wasn't much younger than his daughter. I can only assume from the features I could make out around the gunshot wound that he was part of the family. It makes me shudder to think another human being did this on purpose. I'm sure there aren't a ton of people left so why go around killing people on the same side, it doesn't make sense to me.

I keep wondering if this whole thing had something to do with the military guys. Why would a recording on the emergency broadcast line want people to meet here? My head is starting to hurt from all the possibilities and what-ifs that I can't answer. I'm deep in thought still when Jackson puts a hand on my shoulder, causing me to jump. I'm still on edge after what just happened.

"We are going to have to go. The longer we stay here, the more dangerous it could be if whoever did this comes back, and it's starting to get dark."

"Yeah, I know. It's just so confusing and frustrating." The whole thing makes me mad. I don't want to just run away and let Mikayla have died for no reason other than a lack of human compassion.

Jackson's face is full of concern and understanding. He doesn't answer and we grab our bags, getting ready to head back out to the car when we hear the door to the locker room open. Sharing a look, we both crouch immediately, moving behind a set of lockers just as a couple of men walk into the room. I recognize one as the man that spoke to Samuel back in the dungeon, they kept me at, the other looks familiar but I can't place it. Jackson is stony-faced beside me and I can feel fury emanating off him in waves. I don't get a chance to see if he's okay because the men stroll further into the room, looking around.

"Looks like we have had some more people drop by since earlier." The one I saw with Samuel says. "I think I might have seen that girl before."

My heart drops into my stomach, they must be talking about Mikayla.

The second man, the more menacing out of the two, shakes his head in agreement. "Seems so. There's a new car in the parking lot. Maybe they are still here." He does a quick sweep of the room with his eyes and I duck, my heart pounding in my ears, praying that he didn't see me.

I can feel my hands getting clammy and before I can look to Jackson for an idea of what to do he is abandoning our hiding place and striding right over to the two men. I lift slightly, just enough to see. I'm shocked but I can't give myself away. That man will surely recognize me.

"Wow, fancy seeing you here, Jackson." The other man speaks, his voice a low rumble.

"Nice to see you too, Dad." Jackson spits out venomously.

Holy crap. His dad is with the bad guys? My mind is blown. All I can do is stare.

"You know there's still time son. You can be a man and join the winning side. You can be something more than a deadbeat failure if you join us." The man says this with a proud tone and at the same time, it's all too condescending.

Jackson is shaking slightly, and I assume it's from hatred. I can see why he left his dad and didn't look back. "The only deadbeat I see is you old man."

His father slams the back of his hand across Jackson's cheek, the sound reverberating through the room, but Jackson doesn't waver.

I'm motionless, holding my breath and waiting for whatever comes next. Jackson's dad looks down at him, eyes full of disgust. I can see Jackson's hands clenched at his sides, but he doesn't make a move. They stand there for a few moments, just watching. The other man does the same as me and watches from the sidelines.

After a few agonizing moments, Jackson's dad clears his throat and begins to move towards the door. "You disappoint me once again Jackson. I do not need weaknesses in my life. Since you won't man up, you will stay here and burn with the rest of the corpses in this building." He doesn't look back at him and the man strolls out, the door slamming behind them.

I'm still crouched, watching Jackson when the smell of smoke begins to fill the room causing me to snap out of it. I run to Jackson and he is zoned out, anger and sadness filling his gaze, a red mark marring his features thanks to his darling dad.

I shake him by the shoulders a bit trying to get his attention. "Jackson! We need to go; we don't have a lot of time. They are setting the building on fire."

No sooner had the words left my mouth, something explodes on the upper floor causing the roof to collapse over us. I shove Jackson backward and nearly miss being knocked out by falling debris. The smoke is thickening in the room. It's getting hard to breathe and I begin to cough, lifting my shirt to cover my mouth and nose. The acrid smell singes my nostrils and makes my eyes water painfully. They've wasted no time trying to eliminate Jackson and the evidence of their brutality. We need to act fast or we won't make it out alive.

Jackson finally gets out of his thoughts and jumps up, grabbing my arm once he's standing, and starts for the door. We get to it and he tries to open it but the doorknob is heated and it burns his hand. He winces in pain and steps back, looking at me for ideas as he pulls his shirt up to match mine. I nod my head towards a small window in the back of the room and we jog over to it. I grab a spare work shirt from one of the lockers and wrap it around my fist before Jackson lifts me. They make it look so easy in movies but once my fist goes through the glass, I can feel the shards stabbing me through the shirt. I get as much knocked out as I can before pulling myself up and slipping out the window feet first. The drop was a good couple of feet, at least 5, and the impact causes my ankles to weep.

I can hear Jackson moving something around in the room and I'm focusing on taking large gulps of fresh air between coughing fits when he lands on the ground beside me. We are both catching our bearings for a minute when we hear something close by. Looking up, we see Jackson's dad and a few of his men are walking towards us. A smug grin coats his face as they balance their rifles in their arms to point our way while advancing. I can tell by the menacing look in his eyes that he recognizes me.