by S T Branton
The crowd murmured and shuffled their feet. No more rocks or punches flew, but I could see that not all of them were convinced. The violence in the air had dulled, but it hadn’t evaporated completely.
The meathead I had punched was back on his feet, scowling at me. “That’s bullshit!” he bellowed. “This bitch—”
I grabbed him by the collar and lifted him in the air. “Call me a bitch again. Say it again, and see what happens, motherfucker.”
He shook his head, and I lowered him. He glared at me from bloodshot eyes. “I’m just saying. Someday soon, your buddy is gonna lose his fat, ugly mind and rip this place apart.”
A few people voiced their assent, but most of the group watched in uneasy silence now, trying to gauge the way things would go.
I was fed up with this bro’s crap. “Did you join the militia?”
His eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me,” I said. “We put out a call for help to defend against the attacks. Did you sign up to be a part of the militia?”
He cast his eyes to the ground. “Well, no.”
I shook my head. “How about that? You’re all piss and vinegar when attacking a defenseless man, one who puts his life on the line for you every day. But when the real enemy shows up, you’re too much of a pussy to fight? Frank’s a goddamn hero, but you? You’re just a coward.”
I turned away from the muscle-head and addressed the crowd. “I’m not asking you to fight. It’s enough that you keep going every day, surviving and helping each other. All I ask is that we stay united. Together, we’ll make it through this hell. But if you turn on the people trying to keep you safe, none of us will make it out alive.”
The mob wasn’t angry any longer. Some of them even had the decency to look ashamed.
Then a scream pierced the air, loaded with fear and pain. Muscle Shirt swiveled, caught off guard by the primal sound. The throng began to dissipate rapidly around me, and I saw, framed in the hole that had opened up, a humanoid creature with a shambling gait that I already knew. Not one, but dozens and dozens flooded from the forest. They latched quickly onto dumbfounded group members, and the screams multiplied.
“Militia, get ready,” Dan shouted. “We’re under attack!”
Chapter Thirteen
The zombie horde closed in around us. The previously still forest writhed with legions of others marching slowly but steadily. Our group, gathered as it was, made too big a target to defend, and the ravening horde fell upon us like a pack of undead hyenas.
They weren’t disorganized, though. The monsters themselves might have been as dumb as bricks, but whoever pulled their strings kept them in a tight formation, using strategy against us. The swarm swirled and thickened around us, blocking all potential escape routes.
I cursed myself for not finishing the zombie god off when I had the chance.
It felt like we had all stupidly wandered into a well-laid ambush. Whipping out my magic sword, I sliced and diced my way through the masses in an attempt to open some space for the panicked people around me.
The cracking reports of gunfire reached my ears, but it moved away as the militia crumbled in the face of the zombies’ sheer numbers. We were slowly and methodically suffocated under the relentless thumb of a god. I slashed repeatedly, piling more bodies on the muddy earth, but every kill seemed to spawn more from the dark reaches of the forest. They surged over the camp in waves like vermin.
The situation appeared bleak.
Their numbers may be great, Victoria, but you are formidable. It is written in your name. Stand tall and wield your blazing sword until the power of Kronin compels the enemy to return to the earth from whence they came.
I dragged in a huge breath and released a war cry from the depths of my lungs. The sword danced around me, sketching patterns of light with every fierce strike. I carved sweeping holes in the crush of bodies buffeting me on all sides, creating windows in which my friends battled.
Near the edge of the fight, Frank and Steph had closed ranks around a handful of helpless elderly, working together to stem the flow of the horde. She shot her sidearm when she was able, and when the zombies drew too close, she took them down with frightening speed and efficiency. I began to see why Deacon liked having her as a partner.
On the other side of that little knot, Frank bumbled his way through every encounter as though he was embroiled in one long bar fight. His swings were heavy and wild, but when they hit, they pulverized the undead like a fucking wrecking ball. He bull-rushed into a line of zombies to drive them back and buy some time.
I hoped the angry mob was watching him saving their asses instead of his own. I noticed Muscle Shirt was nowhere to be found.
The creatures’ numbers increased. Before my eyes, Frank and Steph’s holdout was about to be overrun. I could see both Deacon and Luis trying feverishly to cover for their compatriots—the agent with his pistol and the younger man with that hunting rifle. For a city kid, he wasn’t a bad shot.
Still, it wouldn’t be enough. I threw myself forward, hoping against hope that I’d be able to mow down enough undead to reach Frank and Steph in time. Then my vision became obscured by a weird haze that gradually formed itself into a tall, emaciated shape.
“There you are,” I growled, gripping my sword tighter. “Time to finish what I started.”
The god’s visage appeared, already grinning and slightly translucent. “We meet again, Swordbearer. Surely you didn’t think I could allow you to escape. Not when there was so much fun yet to be had.” The grin split his face almost in two, unhinging his jaw into a gaping, dark maw. “What a nice, vibrant soul you have. Gift it to me, and I’ll keep it safe.” A creepy giggle burbled from the back of his narrow throat. “Not that I can say when you’ll get it back, if at all.”
The laughter morphed into a keening wail as he rushed forward with surprising speed, seeking to engulf me in his mouth. I rolled to the side, cutting down a few of his minions in my way.
“It’s easy,” he whispered. “So easy. All you need to do is surrender that wonderful, beautiful soul. I promise to take exceptional care of it.” His looming white face, so thin it was nearly skeletal, was right up in mine. I smelled the weird, stale breath issuing from his jaws with every word. “Wouldn’t that be nice? No worries, no cares. You are on the brink of true oblivion. It would be a mere trifle to simply…give…in.”
The mouth yawned wide again, fringed by jagged teeth. His words sank into my mind, seductive and comforting. Maybe it would be better to give in.
Keep your wits about you, Victoria. Do not let go of the sword.
Marcus’s voice snapped me back from the threshold of the fugue state I’d stared into, and I used the fresh wave of determination to lever the Gladius Solis into that bottomless mouth. The jaws snapped shut, but I put all my weight and strength behind the hilt, driving the blade out the back of the god’s practically naked skull.
The pinpricks of light inside his deep eye sockets flared and flickered madly—then faded into nothing. The body went limp, and a few seconds later, it also dissipated into the empty air.
I didn’t stop to celebrate my triumph. Frank and Steph were almost out of sight behind the shambling figures closing in on them. I summoned every bit of nectar power available to me as I plowed through zombie after zombie. Their god might be dead, but they were still as alive as ever. Or undead. Whatever the fuck they were.
At some point, I stopped seeing anything beyond my goal. There was only Steph pistol-whipping a pair of undead into submission and Frank bludgeoning his foes with the fat end of a broken branch.
I didn’t notice the werewolf crash through the zombie swarm, and when I did, I almost used my sword on her. Then I saw the reddish tint to the fur and the slightly smaller stature. In the midst of a crazy fight, my heart leapt for joy. Were-Maya positioned herself over the huddle of elderly refugees and proceeded to clean house, batting zombies away like they were flies. Any who didn’t have the sense to turn
away after she cut them off were crushed or eviscerated by her claws. She threw a great many clear out of the camp and into the woods beyond to be picked off by the remnants of the militia on their way back.
God, I loved that wolf-woman.
Frank and Steph stood in Maya’s shadow, clearly in awe of her. They stepped back as the werewolf’s frenzy drew to a close. Zombie pieces lay scattered everywhere. Were-Maya hunkered down on all fours, and she began to shrink until she was the size of a small adult human. And very naked.
“I think I love her,” the two other defenders breathed at the same time, echoing my own thoughts.
Maya ignored them, hugging herself against the cold. Veronica came running with a blanket that she draped around the veterinarian’s shoulders.
The Were fastened the covering into a makeshift toga and smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Veronica answered cheerfully.
“What did I miss?” Maya asked. She gazed around at us, all wide-eyed and playing innocent.
I stepped forward, shaking my head. “Good to see you, Maya. You came in time for the good part.” She laughed, and I swore I saw Steph and Frank swooning out of the corner of my eye. “What’d you find out there? A castle? Buried treasure?”
Maya beamed with pride. “Better. I found us a haven. At least I think I did.” Her expression faltered slightly. “There might be a little catch, though.”
I grinned at her. “Better is an understatement. That’s the best thing I’ve heard in the last ten days. Catch be damned—we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” I gave her a quick hug. “Help me round up the last of these zombies, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Okay.” She brightened again. “I’ll tell you about it once I get some, uh…clothes.” She smiled sheepishly, walking ahead with Veronica toward shelter. Her two not-so-secret admirers hurried to keep her in sight.
Victoria, I must insist that these beings are not zombies. They live, therefore, they cannot be undead.
“We can discuss the finer points of zombie philosophy later,” I told him, heading out to purge the remainder of the nameless god’s army. “Whatever they are, they’ll be dead when I’m done with them.”
Marcus grumbled. I laughed, and for that instant, all was right with the world.
Chapter Fourteen
We ducked inside the teepee for our second major pow-wow in as many days. The space was a little close, but it felt good to sit back and relax out of sight of the group’s prying eyes. I was still a little sore about how easily they’d turned on Frank. The ungrateful pricks.
The post-battle atmosphere was heavy in the tent. We had taken more losses than ever before. But Maya’s good news brought some light to the shadows.
“I found another group of survivors moving west,” she told us, barely able to contain her excitement. “They were going to some military base, I think. That’s what it sounded like, anyway. They mostly called it a supposed safe zone.”
Dan perked up his ears. “Military base? Where at?”
Maya shrugged. “Somewhere in Pennsylvania. I guess there was a broadcast transmitted over the radio sometime before communications went down, and that’s how they heard about it. I’m not sure if they know exactly where it is themselves.”
“What kind of people were they?” Veronica asked. “Were they soldiers? Were they armed? Did they look like they had their shit together?”
“Nope,” Maya said, grinning. “They looked like us. Moving in a loose pack with not too much in terms of weapons. A couple of the men had shotguns, but those were the most heavy-duty things I saw. They weren’t dressed for winter, either.”
“Did you blend in well?” Jules asked. “Will they know you’re gone?”
Maya laughed. “Oh, they didn’t see me. I eavesdropped for as long as I could, and then I headed back. It seemed like too big a risk to try and associate with them on any level. I don’t know whether they would have been friendly or not.” She gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. “They mentioned a name once or twice. Fort Sigel? Apparently, it’s extremely fortified. They heard a lot of folks were able to find shelter there.”
We all looked at Dan. He nodded thoughtfully. “Well, there is a base out that way, as far as I know. It’s sort of hidden down on the edge of the Poconos there. I don’t know much more than that, I’ll admit. It was a bit of a military secret, above my clearance level. I have no idea what kind of operations they ran in that place, but I do think it’d probably be a good place to bunk and regroup for a while.” A slight frown crossed his face. “Assuming it’s empty or hasn’t fallen into hostile hands, that is. We can’t ignore the possibility that we’d walk into a deathtrap.”
Maya winced a little, and instant regret flashed across the soldier’s face.
“It’s a slim chance,” he said quickly. “But a slim chance is still a chance. All I’m saying is that we ought to be cautious until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“I agree with that,” Deacon said. “But it’s also worth mentioning that we’re in dire need of a safe haven right now. That last assault was almost the end for us. We won’t survive another attack like that.”
Veronica nodded. “And with the second murder, morale in general is at an all-time low. Whatever we do next, it has to be something that will bolster our people and build them up for the next long stretch. I say the potential benefits outweigh the risks.”
“We need time to hone our defenses,” Brax said. He had been quiet since the fighting stopped, and now, his voice carried a peculiar note of something like sheepishness. “The showing from our civilian militia was…shameful.”
Dan grimaced. “That’s true. It would be enormously helpful to have someplace we could establish as our home base for now. Somewhere that would be relatively safe and let us build into a stronger force.”
“We will do better next time,” the demon declared tersely. “It is non-negotiable.” He and Dan locked eyes briefly, and I couldn’t tell if they were resigned to teamwork or if they hated each other more than ever.
“Good,” I said slowly, hoping to defuse the situation. “But don’t be too hard on yourselves, okay? Any of you. This last battle was a ton for any one person to handle, and we would probably all have been screwed if not for Maya coming to save our asses. In that respect, we’re all in the same boat.”
Even Brax smiled at that.
“Ain’t that the truth?” Steph chuckled. She pulled a small hip flask off her belt and raised it. “To Maya!”
We echoed the toast without drinks in our hands. “To Maya!”
“Thank you for not letting us drown in zombies,” I said. “That was very considerate of you.”
She turned red. “Oh, you guys. I only did what I always want to do when I’m a werewolf. I wrecked shit. I’ve come to terms with it. In a way, it’s really cathartic.”
“It sure seems like it,” Steph said. “I guess it’s probably bad to say, but I don’t think I’d mind being a werewolf myself.” She had a glint in her eye. “Could you turn me if I was willing?”
“Oh boy.” Deacon rolled his eyes. “Here we go.”
“What?” She smiled. “I’m simply asking. Is that so wrong?”
Maya’s cheeks grew even redder. “Technically, I probably can turn people, but it’s not like it’s a…fun…process. You know what I mean?”
The agent rubbed his face. “You don’t want to make Steph a werewolf anyway, Maya. People are already plenty scared of her.”
“Pfft.” His partner picked a bottlecap up from the improvised crate table between us and threw it at him. “You’re the worst, St. Clare.” To Maya, she said, “I was only kidding…mostly. I couldn’t make it look half as good as you do anyway.”
Maya gave me a distinct “help me” look. “Thanks, I think,” she said.
What would possibly possess anyone to desire to become a Forgotten? Marcus asked.
Based on the way Steph stared at Maya, I could
think of at least one reason. But I kept that thought to myself.
I cleared my throat. “Tell me about this catch you mentioned earlier. I hate to say it, but Dan’s right. We do have to be careful. Anything that feels like it might be weird needs a thorough examination.”
“Right.” Maya nodded resolutely. “I heard some of the travelers talking about being stalked by killer cats.” She gave a small, worried frown. “One of the older guys called them ‘apex predators.’”
“This is a pretty dense forest,” Deacon said. “Could be naturally occurring.”
“There are bobcats in Pennsylvania…” Dan said slowly. “Maybe that’s what’s been after our group too.” He didn’t really sound convinced, and neither was I. The wounds on those bodies looked a little too much like shit I’d seen before.
“Please don’t let this change your mind,” Maya told me pleadingly. “I know it’s a risk, but so is everything else these days. If that fort is a real place, then it’s worth a try.”
It took me only a moment to make a decision. “Okay, guys. It seems obvious that our priority as a group needs to be safety at the moment. Don’t get me wrong. We’re still a bunch of crazy badasses who don’t mind fighting here and there. And we’ll get through the fights we take on like we got through this one, and we’ll get through the next one, and the one after that. Nothing about our abilities has changed. If anything, we can only get stronger. It’s other people we need to think about. As annoying as they can be, these survivors need us right now, and we owe it to them to keep them safe. So, that’s what we’ll do. Not because it’s easy—I’m sure it’ll be the furthest thing from that—but because it’s the right thing.” I looked around the tight circle at the faces of my team. “You guys with me?”
They nodded and answered more or less in unison. “Yeah.”
“Good.” I grinned. “Remember, we’ve killed gods together. And if we can do that, we can do whatever the fuck we want.”
