“That’s the one,” Sam said.
She handed Hawk the binoculars they’d lifted from the camping store.
“The second one from the right,” Sam said.
“I see it.” Hawk lowered the binoculars and sat in contemplative silence.
“What do you think?” Sam had already made up her mind.
Hawk handed the binoculars back. “I think it’s the best chance we’ve got.”
“It’s going to be tough without someone on the other side at the controls.”
“What makes you think we won’t have someone on the other side?”
Sam blinked in surprise. “You can do that?”
“I’m sure I can rustle someone up. With recent events, I doubt there’s much of a shortage of undead personnel out there.”
With the Death Squad’s failure to prevent the spread of the virus, Sam had to agree with him on that, no matter how much she wished it wasn’t true. For the first time, she prayed the zombies had managed to spread to every corner of the state. It was their best chance of getting out of there alive.
* * *
The elevator’s undercarriage hung some way up—sixty feet or more—and the ropes on either side that held the carriage’s weight swayed gently in the wind. Sam picked one up and tugged on it, wary that the elevator might fall and crush her at any moment.
“Any creatures on the other side of the wall you can contact?” she said.
“None close enough to be of any use,” Hawk said, pressing his hands to the wall. “I can feel them, but they’re far away, like the tiny dots of distant stars.”
“Try to coax them toward us.”
“It’ll take time for them to get here.”
“What else do we have to do but wait?”
Hawk’s face crumpled up with pain once more and he pressed his palms so hard against the wall that his knuckles turned white. He spat. When Sam looked closer, she realized he hadn’t spat at all. It was the strain of trying to reach an undead so far away. Sam put a hand to his back and felt the tension in his muscles relax a little. Finally, he straightened up and, unable to hold his weight, fell to his knees.
“They’re coming,” he said.
“Hawk. . .” Sam motioned to his top lip.
Hawk ran the bridge of his index finger over his lips. His palm came away bloody and filled with sordid black lumps. It didn’t look healthy, whatever it was.
“You need to stop using this power you have,” Sam said.
“I will once we get out. Then I’ll never use it again.”
“What did they do to you, Hawk?” Sam said. She’d been careful not to pry. It was a painful experience for him.
Hawk grunted as he sat down and pressed his back against the wall. “They did whatever they wanted. But I escaped, and I’ll get out of here too—even if it kills me.”
If he used his power much more, it just might. At least if he was dead, he wouldn’t have to put up with that agony anymore.
Sam knelt beside him and took his hand in her own. “I promise, once this is over, once we’ve beaten the Architect and things go back to the way they were, I’m going to remove that thing in your head so you can live a normal life.”
“I’m a Walker. I’ll never live a normal life. Not so long as I have the virus in my blood. Can you remove that too?”
“No. Not yet.”
“Then what use are your promises?” Hawk growled. His glare stalled and he turned his head away from her. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”
“It’s the pain. It affects the brain, sends our hormone levels through the roof. It’s not your fault.”
“The words can form, the thoughts can appear, but I don’t have to give them voice. People are always so quick to pass blame onto someone else. I won’t do the same.”
Sam took a seat beside him, extending her legs out in front of her. She sighed with relief. It was good to relax. “If you’re right about not living a normal life, then Tommy and I don’t stand a chance.”
“I didn’t mean you two.”
“But the situation is the same. He’s a Walker. I’m uninfected. What kind of life can we expect to share?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s not impossible to build a life after all this. Even for a Walker. You could live on a farm somewhere. In Alaska or some other out-of-the-way place, and you’ll never be bothered by anyone. Ever.”
Hawk turned to look her in the eye. “You really believe I can do that?”
“I know you can.”
“What about you and Tommy?”
“We’ll find our own way too. So will Emin, Guy, and Jimmy. Maybe they’ll even come live with you.”
“God, I hope not.” Hawk’s smile belied his hope that it might happen. “Thank you.”
“Thank me for what?”
“For giving me hope. The last woman who gave me that. . . well, she got her comeuppance eventually.”
“Is that a threat?”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
Sam punched him on the arm. I know. Hawk smiled at her, teeth red with blood. His eyes flicked up in the direction of the city. Sam followed his sightline.
“What is it?” she said, hopping up onto her heels. “More undead?”
“Always. But it isn’t the undead that bothers me. It’s how they’re behaving.”
He stood up in a crouched position and crept behind a large boulder. A pair of men in full camo gear rounded the street corner. Sam’s eyes widened in shock. Hawk reacted faster and wrapped his arms around her, tugging her down behind the rock. The guard in the lead referred to some paperwork.
“If they come close, I can take them out,” Hawk whispered.
The second pair of guards followed the first. Their eyes were clear, keeping a sharp lookout for danger.
The lead guard motioned to the elevator Sam and Hawk sat under. “This looks to be the one.” He turned to his men. “Break up the unit and assign them watch duties.”
The second stepped forward. “Are the orders shoot to kill, sir?”
“Of course. We don’t want to take any chances. You heard what the Architect said. Dead or alive. Dead is infinitely easier—and less risky—than taking them alive.”
The second saluted and marched away. The leader turned to look upon the elevator again, double-checking his paperwork.
Soon the place would be crawling with guards, Sam thought. They had to get out of there. She locked eyes on Hawk and nodded toward the nearest structure. It was a small tenement building and would give them plenty of hiding places. As Sam crept toward it, Hawk kept a close eye on the guards After she reached the entrance, he turned and followed her inside.
They shared a look. Just what were they supposed to do now?
3.
TOMMY
The man called Albert introduced himself to the others and paused when he saw Jimmy. He bent down and braced his weight on his knees. “Well, hi there.”
A strange, unknown man staring at you openly was never going to make Jimmy feel particularly comfortable. He shied behind Emin’s leg and peeked out.
“I’m sorry for scaring you. I haven’t seen any kids in years. The last one we had grew up, and they don’t tend to replace them down here.”
He started, raising a finger as if remembering something. “I have something for you.” He reached into his pocket and took out some candy. “We make it ourselves. We’ve been eating it for years, and there’s nothing wrong with us.”
He laughed maniacally before stopping and sharing a look with the adults, who hadn’t laughed. He turned his head to one side, confused why they hadn’t. He frowned and whipped out a pocket notebook to jot down some notes.
“He might seem a little eccentric,” Reginald said.
A little?
“Emotions and human interaction are, paradoxically, difficult for him to understand. Have a little patience. He means well.”
If even the self-righteous off
icial could find a place within his shriveled-up heart for Albert, surely they could?
Emin snatched the candy out of Jimmy’s hand. “He’ll eat it later. It’ll ruin his dinner if he eats it now. But thank you.”
Albert nodded and smiled, shut the pocket notebook and tucked it away again. “Shall we sit down and talk?”
Before they could answer, he took a seat at an adjacent table, interlocked his fingers and waited.
Disappointed was an understatement. They’d journeyed to this place—putting themselves under considerable danger in the process—to locate a weapon called Failsafe. They’d already passed the weapons he wanted to take with them. Why were they wasting their time with this seventy-year-old man-child?
Tommy and the others sat at the table with mismatched armchairs. A research assistant brought them fresh cups of steaming coffee and hot milk for Jimmy. The two dozen men and women rushing around behind them only added to the surreal nature of the setting.
“Mm,” Guy said. “That’s good coffee.”
“It’s only instant,” Albert said with a forlorn expression. “I’m not allowed filtered.”
“Why not?”
“They think it wouldn’t react well with me.”
“Why wouldn’t it react well with you?”
“Because of the medication they give me.” He slurped down the last of his coffee and noticed Jimmy staring at his computer game screen. “Would you like to play?”
Jimmy looked uncertain. He looked from Albert to Emin and back again. He nodded.
“What’s your name?”
“Jimmy.”
“Hi, Jimmy. I’m Albert.”
Albert reached across the table to shake Jimmy’s hand. They shared a smile, communicating on some level. They probably had about the same IQ. “You can play the game whenever you want. All you’ve got to do is shoot the bad guy ships.”
Jimmy checked it was okay with Emin before heading over to the computer and starting a new game.
“So, Albert, how did you come to be here?” Emin said.
“I’ve always been here. Well, not always. That would be crazy.” He chuckled. None of the others did. He frowned and made another note in his pocketbook. “I remember a place I used to live, a farm, I think. I remember chickens, rolling hills, and a few faces of people who are probably dead now. Other than that, I’ve always been here.”
“Are all these people around us your friends?” Emin said.
“Yes.” A dark look came over Albert’s face and he spoke in a low voice. “But they’re not all my very best friends.”
Emin was unsure how to react. “I’m. . . sorry to hear that.”
Albert shrugged. “Some people are so grouchy. It’s hard to be friends with them.”
Emin glanced at Guy out the corner of her eye. “I know what you mean.”
“So, what brings you guys down here?” Albert said.
“The elevator,” Jimmy said, not taking his eyes off the screen.
Albert burst into laughter and added another note to his book. He looked up and met Tommy’s eyes. They didn’t have a jot of mirth in them.
“So, why did you come down here?” Albert said, trying again.
“A virus,” Tommy said. “It kills people and brings them back to life, turning them into zombies. It broke out first in a city called Austin. We tried to contain it, but it escaped and we failed to keep a lid on it. Right now, as we speak, it’s sweeping across the country. It could have reached both coasts by now. We simply don’t know.”
Albert nodded thoughtfully. “How did you get the key?”
“A friend of mine gave it to us.”
“I wouldn’t say ‘give’ is the right word,” Guy said.
“He gave us instructions on how to find it,” Tommy said. “We went to his office in another city, picked up the file from his safe, and followed the instructions here. We’re here looking for a weapon called Failsafe.”
“Failsafe? What’s that?”
“It means having a backup plan so even if something bad happens the plan won’t fail completely.”
Albert nodded. “I see. And you believe this Failsafe will help you?”
“I don’t know what I believe anymore,” Tommy said. “When people die, they’re meant to stay dead. Now, they’re roaming around. This Failsafe was supposed to be our last chance to save the country. Now we’re here, I have no idea where it is or what we’re supposed to do with it.”
Albert looked at Tommy a long time. “Something happened to you, didn’t it? Something bad. To all of you.”
Tommy looked the man dead in the eye. How he could know they were undead when no one else did, he had no idea. Even worse, he didn’t know how the scientists would react if they knew. His words were stiff. “It did.”
“This virus changed you somehow, made you like the zombies. But not entirely like them.”
Tommy nodded his head, limbs growing stiff with anxiety.
Albert held his look, then swirled the dregs of his coffee and swallowed them. “I’m sure you’ll find what you’re looking for. What is the name of this friend who gave you the key?”
“Colonel Maxwell.”
The name snapped Albert to attention. “Maxwell? He came with you? Is he here?”
“I’m afraid not. It’s just us.”
Albert’s shoulders slumped. “He was the best videogame partner I ever had. Especially at Space Invaders.”
Tommy found it hard to picture the hero he and everyone else in the military knew sitting here playing computer games with this odd little man.
“If Maxwell gave you the key, he must have been serious about you getting the Failsafe. Would you like my help?”
“Your help? With what? Finishing old computer games?”
Albert perked up. “Sure. If you want. But that’s not really where my skill lies.” He got to his feet. “By the sound of it, you’re needed on the surface. Would you like to get out of here?”
“Yes. After we get the Failsafe weapon.”
“I’m afraid they’re never going to let you have it.”
Tommy got to his feet. “I thought that’s why we were here.”
“If you want it, I’m afraid you’re going to have to take it.”
It was difficult to read the old man’s meaning. “You’ll give it to us?”
“I’m afraid the people here don’t like giving away their secrets. But I know how to get at them.”
“How?”
Albert smiled. “We’ll walk out.”
* * *
We’ll walk out?
Tommy peered at the scientists hard at work. What planet was Albert living on? The researchers would see them a hundred times before they even reached the door.
“After you,” Tommy said.
The Death Squad shared a look and stood up. Jimmy was surprisingly easy to pry away from the computer game. They joined Albert in the middle of the room. He stood facing the huge door and hadn’t moved a muscle. Tommy took a step forward but Albert held up a hand.
“Wait,” he said.
“Wait for what?”
“I need to concentrate,” Albert said. “May I ask for you to remain quiet, please?”
Tommy shared an uneasy look with the others. “Sure.”
Albert motioned for Emin and Jimmy to step back a little. “Just a few inches.”
Emin did as he asked.
And still, they stood in the middle of the room, staring at that giant swing door. Then, without any preamble, Albert stepped forward. He was slow, taking his time.
A scientist approached with a clipboard and pen. He checked Albert’s pulse, made a note, then moved back to his workstation. They were almost at the door now. The light above the door glowed an angry red. No way they were getting through that sucker without the passcode, and he doubted they would trust Albert with something as sensitive as that.
Tommy opened his mouth to speak when the light blinked green and the door edged open. The movement was sl
ow—infinitely slower than when it opened, he thought. A pair of scientists in deep conversation raised a hand to Albert as they strolled past.
Albert waved back and stepped through the open doorway that continued to swing open in its full arc before shutting automatically behind them.
Tommy watched as the door obliterated the scientists hard at work in the room.
“Can we take the helmets off now?” Guy said. “I feel like Magneto in this thing.”
Albert shrugged. “If you like. They don’t work anyway.”
“Guys, what just happened?” Emin said.
Tommy’s throat felt dry. “I’m pretty sure we just walked out of a secret facility without anybody noticing us.”
But pretty soon they will. And when they do. . .
Emin read the entirety of Tommy’s meaning. She took Jimmy by the hand and together they hustled down the hall.
* * *
Albert marched, not quite a run, but not a leisurely pace either. Jimmy had to jog to keep up. They stopped at the large research facility that tested shields and weaponry and stood beside the door.
“Now what are we doing?” Tommy said.
Albert gave him a look that said: Isn’t it obvious? “We’re waiting.”
Tommy peered back down the hallway at the door at the end. “Usually, you wait for something. Why are we here?”
As if in response, the light above them blinked green and the door swung open. Raucous voices erupted as a crowd of suited scientists spilled through the doorway and into the corridor.
Tommy, taken by surprise, took one step back. He checked over his shoulder but found there was nowhere to hide. He pressed his back to the wall and shut his eyes. Albert didn’t move a muscle.
The scientists removed their helmets and carried them under their arms, engaged in energetic conversations, not one of them audible to the escapees. Albert stepped inside the room, leaving the Death Squad frozen to the spot. They didn’t speak until the scientists had rounded the corner.
“Does anybody get the feeling this guy suffers from severe déjà vu?” Guy said.
Death Squad (Book 4): Zombie World Page 3
