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“What?”
Dez walked over to the door that separated her from whatever remained of JT Hammond. “This is all totally fucked,” she said. “We’re wasting our time. Zetter is going to come in here whether we help him or not. We’re completely screwed.” She leaned her forehead against the cold metal. “Why don’t you go upstairs?”
“Why don’t you?”
“To do what? Count how many people we’re going to get killed?”
He walked over and stood a few feet away. “Dez, a few minutes ago you just gave a pretty good speech about searching the building and taking responsibility. That was good. It helped. You got this group of refugees in motion.”
“They searched the building. It’s clear. Mission accomplished. Now leave me alone.”
“That’s not what I mean,” said Trout. “I’m trying to say that somebody needs to step up and be in charge of this mess.”
“Did you hear anything I said? They’re going to fucking kill us.”
“Maybe they will,” said Trout, “and maybe they won’t. Maybe I’ll get in touch with Goat. Maybe they’ll find Volker. Maybe this whole thing is over. We don’t know what’s happening or going to happen, Dez. All we do know is there are six hundred people upstairs and every single one of them is lost and scared. They need someone to look to so they know how to deal, how to act. They need an anchor. They need you.”
“The principal can handle all that stuff.”
“No,” said Trout. “Mrs. Madison doesn’t have the power and she doesn’t have the authority.”
“She’s the principal.”
“Of what? An elementary school? C’mon, Dez, are you trying to tell me that she has the goods to bring this whole place under control and keep everybody in line? Some of the people here aren’t even from the school. They aren’t parents or staff. They’re survivors who came here because it’s the town’s emergency shelter. What do they care if a grade school principal gives them an order?”
Dez barked out a harsh laugh. “And you think they’ll listen to me? Are you high or stupid? I’m only a small-town cop.” Dez looked at him and her eyes were haunted. “And let’s face it, Billy, cops didn’t exactly save the day. There wasn’t a
lot of protecting and serving going on. Or have you forgotten that the entire Stebbins Police Department is dead?”
Trout slapped his palm flat on the door six inches from her head. It was as loud as a pistol shot and Dez jerked backward.
“Now you fucking well listen to me, Desdemona Abigail Fox,” Trout growled. “I know you’re hurting because of JT. I know what losing him means to you.”
“No you don’t—”
“The hell I don’t. I lost a lot of friends, too. Everyone I work with except Goat. All of my close friends except for you. And as for you, I know you a lot better than you ever gave me credit for. Maybe I know you better than JT did. Go ahead and punch me if that offends you, because—”
She did punch him.
It was very fast and very hard and it felt like being shot in the chest. Trout staggered four paces back and then fell hard on his ass. He sat there, legs splayed, gulping for air like a trout on a riverbank.
“Goddamn it, you crazy bitch,” he wheezed when he could finally speak. It wasn’t the first time she’d ever punched him, but it was harder than he’d ever been hit by anyone in his life.
Dez loomed over him. “You don’t talk about JT.”
Trout struggled up off the cold concrete. “I wasn’t talking about JT,” he roared. “I was talking about me and you.”
“What do you want from me, anyway?” she demanded, getting up in his face.
He thought, fuck it, and got up in hers.
“I want you to step up, Dez. I want you—I need you—to stop being Dez Fox the injured crazy person and be Officer Dez Fox the cop. Yeah, okay, the rest of the Stebbins cops are dead, and that sucks. And, yeah, you have no real authority left. Yeah, life sucks, too, and everyone we know is dead. Yeah, yeah, yeah to all of that. But I just came from a roomful of terrified children. Children, Dez. Hundreds of them. Children who are probably going to die unless we put on our big-girl panties and take charge. And by we I pretty much mean you. Hit me again if it’ll make you feel better. Kick my ass and stomp me if that’s what it takes, but then put your big-girl panties on and go do what you know you have to do.”
For a long handful of silent seconds Trout was absolutely positive that Dez was going to pistol-whip him. He could see the desire to do that in her eyes. Her lips compressed and he heard the creak of her knuckles as her hands balled into fists.
Then Dez abruptly took a step back. The action looked like it hurt, like it physically tore her away from the moment. She glanced wildly around as if looking for a doorway that would open onto a different world. Maybe the world of two days ago, when everything made some kind of sense; or a world where there was no Stebbins County, no Billy, no JT, no Lucifer 113, and no zombies.
She exhaled a long, deep, ragged breath.
