Isolation , Jones, Nathan [top 20 books to read TXT] 📗

had a feeling his scavengers felt the same. They raced through the trees, eyes darting through the branches searching for any sign of movement.

He could still hear crashes from up ahead, along with Chet's and Ben's voices directing them in which way Jay was going, now close enough to be audible without a radio. That stopped abruptly when more gunshots rang out from up ahead, joined by cries from Ben. Alarmed cries, although thankfully with no hint of pain.

Then there was just the crashing sounds.

Nick regained his senses and began darting from cover to cover, although he didn't let himself slow down. If Jay was shooting at his friends they needed help, and the best help was surrounding the bald maniac so he had nowhere to hide to take potshots at them.

Things were a bit quieter after that. Nick heard rustles and the snap of branches and sticks behind him, although he was steadily increasing his lead on the rest of his group, and the crashing sounds from up ahead were getting closer and closer as he closed the gap.

Nick could've sworn Jay and the brothers were only twenty or so feet ahead when there was abruptly a sharp cry of surprise and pain. Then silence.

He slowed even more, raising his rifle and thumbing off the safety. He darted from cover towards two closely growing trees up ahead, waited a moment while he searched for a new source of cover farther on, then bolted towards a fallen log.

He nearly jumped out of his skin at a sharp “hsst” from up ahead, dropping flat on his belly in a panic. Then he spotted Chet waving at him frantically from behind a tree about ten feet ahead and to the right. The young man mouthed “he's here” and pointed further along, the nervous eagerness in his expression offset by what almost looked like confusion.

Nick rose to a crouch and cautiously moved forward to join Chet behind the tree, holding his rifle tensely, ready to take aim. Then he paused, frowning in his own confusion as he realized what had thrown his friend for a loop.

Jay was on his hands and knees in the middle of a clearing up ahead, head hanging in what looked like defeat. His rifle, a sleek black behemoth with a high end scope, was sitting on the ground several feet away.

Almost as if he'd tripped and lost the weapon as he fell headlong, then hadn't had the strength or willpower to get back up.

Nick motioned for Chet to keep his weapon on the man, at least he hoped that's the message he was getting across, then slung his own rifle and drew his pistol to point between Jay's shoulder blades. He cautiously stepped out from behind the tree, moving forward at an angle to give his friend a clear shot.

“We've got you surrounded, Jay!” he called sharply. “Just stay where you are until I come slap handcuffs on you.” Actually they were zip ties, since Denny had given all his fighters a few to use for just this purpose, but those were basically the same.

The Wensbrook leader, or at least the leader of those who were still with him, shuffled around on his knees to face Nick. At which point Nick realized the man still had a weapon, that big pistol he'd kept holstered at his hip ever since he'd first seen him.

“Statton,” Jay mumbled, giving him a weary, defeated sort of grin. “Of course it would be you. Anyone else would've just shot me in the back and ended this once and for all, but you're too softhearted for that.” He jerked his head towards the woods behind Nick. “Not like your pissed off friends out there. Especially after I burned down their house.”

Nick heard Chet make an angry noise from his position. Jay must've heard it too, because he casually lowered one hand to rest on his pistol's grip, unsnapping the holster's strap.

Nick tensed and moved his finger to the trigger. “Don't!”

“Easy, tough guy,” the bald man said with a smirk, although thankfully he moved his hand away from his gun again. A few inches, at least.

As Nick was opening his mouth to order the man to get rid of the gun entirely, Jay abruptly looked up at the sky. He was wearing an oddly detached, almost wistful expression. “Nice breeze today,” he murmured absently. Nick stared at him in bafflement as he continued. “My mom always used to say that a warm spring breeze will blow all your cares away.”

Jay's borderline serene behavior was deeply jarring, considering his attack was probably still going strong, and his best friend might be dying in the camp a few hundred yards away. It was obvious he was even more unhinged than anyone had thought.

Nick made his voice as gentle as he could. “It's over, Jay. Toss me the gun and we'll make sure you get a fair trial.”

The Wensbrook leader closed his eyes, face still uplifted. “Although I'm not sure she was right about that,” he continued as if he hadn't heard, “it would take a pretty amazing breeze to blow my cares away.” His expression became mournful. “Watching my family die, coming back to find my home, my town, desecrated like some tomb full of treasures to be carried off.” His face twitched into a shockingly intense expression of fury. “Betrayed by my best friend.”

The fury vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by grief. “Larry,” Jay mumbled. “I shouldn't have shot him, even after what he did. All those years of friendship, practically a brother to me, and that's how I leave it?”

“Jay,” Nick said, edging forward. “Come on. You sound like you're as ready as I am for this to all be over. Just toss me the gun and lie down on your stomach with your hands behind your head.”

The man opened his eyes and lowered his gaze to stare at him. “I am ready for it to be over,” Jay agreed, an exhaustion