by Michael Todd
Driven by the demented rage that seemed to consume them, the mob resumed their pursuit. Thankfully, in the thick mud, rational thought had an advantage. Ava and the team chose their path carefully and stepped on odd rocks and clutched at roots to avoid the thick, sticky mud whenever possible. Their attackers thrashed through it and slid and fell constantly, and often scrambled over one another as a means to gain purchase and move forward.
“Up we go.” Manny caught hold of a bundle of roots that grew from the side of the ravine. He clambered up and made it easily to the top. Ava grabbed his proffered hand and he hauled her beside him.
Peppy and Gunnar were right on their heels. They climbed up almost on top of each other, caught one another when they slipped, and kicked at their pursuers.
“Where’s the pencil-pusher?” Manny asked.
Ava caught a quick glimpse of Cort before the mob dogpiled him and shoved him down into the mud. He would either suffocate in the muck or be force-fed a berry.
Gunnar raised his gun.
“No!” Ava put her hand in front of him.
Peppy raised hers. “He’s gonna get torn apart or eat one of those fucking zomberries and become one of them. He doesn’t deserve that, even if he a pencil-pusher.”
“We’ll try not to hit him. There’s a good chance he’ll survive.” Gunnar’s tone of voice made it quite clear what he thought of Cort’s survival chances.
“Rule number eighty-six. Never leave a man behind. Unless, of course, he’s a huge fucking asshole.”
“Cort’s not an asshole,” Ava declared. “He saved my life back there—twice. We have to do something.”
The two soldiers exchanged a look. They didn’t lower their weapons, but they didn’t shoot either.
“What the fuck do you want from us, Ava?” Peppy finally asked. “Death, dismemberment, or madness?”
“That sounds like a game we should play,” Gunnar said before he shook his head. “Christ, I need a cigarette.”
“Not to fear. I’ve always wanted to do this.” Manny caught a vine that hung off a tree, gave it a good couple of yanks, and cut a section of perhaps forty feet off with his knife.
“I told you I worked as a rodeo cowboy, right? I learned how to lasso a calf’s legs on the run—although I never could figure out that Texas-twang. I swear, those blokes talk funny. All ‘ya’ll’ this and ‘howdy’ that like they got all the damn time in the world.” He spun the end of the vine and once it had momentum, threw it up over the ravine. It caught on a branch and he whipped it and the end swung back toward him. He tied it around his waist.
“You hold on tight, Ava. The last thing I need is for you to go all butterfingers on me.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“Don’t thank me until I come back all right. Oh, we should write that down. That’d be a good rule. Peppy, Gunnar, you shoot high on my signal. Ava’s right. Let’s not brain these blokes if we can help it. They might simply be suffering from indigestion.”
The pilot stepped to the edge of the ravine and looked down. He shook his head and stepped back. “Nope, that ain’t gonna work.” He took a few more steps back.
“What? We have to try,” Ava protested.
He held a hand up to silence her, bowed his head, then straightened.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Manny said in a heavily affected Australian accent, much like an impression of himself. “Brian Johnson can’t be here tonight, but don’t be upset. We have an even better singer. You know him as Manny or the Dingo from Down Under. It’s Jack Mann!” He pretended to cheer and even made honest-to-God cheering sounds as if he stood in front of a crowd of pretend people. “Now give it up for AC/DC!”
With that, he ran forward as he sang a mangled version of “Highway to Hell” and launched into the ravine as if thousands of screaming fans waited for him instead of ten-odd murderous berry-poisoned people.
After a moment, he bellowed an acapella version of a screeching guitar solo.
“Do you think that’s the signal?” Peppy asked.
“I don’t know what the hell else it could be.” Gunnar nodded.
The duo fired above the heads of the horde and the deranged attackers flinched, dropped, and peered above them. This response, almost in unison, was bizarre, and Ava realized that they weren’t so lost that they didn’t recognize gunfire.
Reality clicked in and Ava pulled with all her strength. Gunnar grabbed the rope and Peppy joined them, and they hauled like their lives depended on it.
Manny rose from the crowd with Cort held against him. Both were covered in mud like some disgusting angels of grime. The lieutenant was crying openly, and the tears left streaks along his muddy face as he thanked his rescuer. The pilot ignored him and focused instead on a few well-placed kicks to deter any interference.
“So you think AC/DC’s overrated? Well, fuck you, mate. You too. No, I don’t give a shit about ‘Flight of the Conchords.’ Wrong country!”
One of the attackers managed to grab onto Manny’s boot. Cort, held tightly in the pilot’s grip, managed to jab the man awkwardly in the eye. He released and fell, and without his weight, Ava, Peppy, and Gunnar were able to heave their companions up and out of the teeming mass of people.
The pilot kicked his legs back and forth and built some momentum.
“Let go...now!” he said as he swung over to their side of the ravine. They complied and the two men impacted the ground in a muddy pile.
Gunnar immediately dropped to one knee and sliced off the roots they’d used to climb up.
“I…I thought that was the end,” Cort said. He tried to wipe his tears and only smeared his face with more mud. “You saved my life. Thank you.”
“We have a new rule. Don’t thank me until we’re safe, mate.”
“Right, sure.” The lieutenant nodded and actually managed to smile. His white teeth looked almost freakish framed by so much mud and filth.
“Are we ready to move or do you want to wait around for the zombie brigade to invent teamwork?” Peppy asked.
They bolted. Behind them, the deranged horde continued to thrash and slide in the ravine. Some struggled to climb out and their fingers worked at the muddy edge, unable to find traction. All seemed utterly unable to think themselves out of a hole in the ground.
Chapter Eleven
They ran for what felt like forever and thundered through the undergrowth, not following any path that Ava could see. She hated moving like this through the Zoo. There were too many creatures that could hear them, of that she was certain. Even aside from the animals, the jungle had enough other dangers that even a simple misstep could prove fatal.
“We can’t keep going like this,” she said finally.
“Right you are.” Manny stopped instantly. “But I like to get my daily cardio. I think we put in a few miles, though, so we can switch to push-ups for a while.”
She rolled her eyes but thankfully, he didn’t follow through with that. Instead, they pressed on at a much quieter pace. She appreciated being able to hear herself think.
After a long trek, they reached a rock formation made of sandstone with horizontal layers in different shades of yellow. It looked like someone had simply plopped a desert artifact in the middle of the jungle but of course, the opposite was far closer to the truth.
“This would be a good place to kick our feet up,” Manny observed.
“What makes you say that?” Cort asked, but he sat on the rock. Of the five of them, he was the most exhausted. He’d never really recovered from being almost fed the zomberries.
“When you’re in a place where every damn vine, bush, and pricker wants to kill you, a rock is a welcome ally. Plus, it reminds me of the outback.” The pilot kicked his boots off. “Ava, I know these puppies stink, but would you mind giving me a once-over when the fumes dissipate? I’d like to make sure that I ain’t got no lethal barbs in me.”
“No problem.” She took a step closer to him, got a whiff, and hastily retreated. “Actua
lly, I’ll check Cort out first. Then Peppy and Gunnar. You stink.”
“Give us a few.” Gunnar unspooled a roll of thin wire from his backpack. “This shit doesn’t work on all the creatures in the Zoo, but mindless humans will definitely fall for it.”
“Was that a pun? I hate puns.” Peppy attached one end of the wire to a tree about a foot off the ground.
“Really?” He grinned. “I think they’re simply to die for.”
“That’s only funny if you say that while we’re being dismembered or something,” Peppy responded. She took the spool from Gunnar and he tied off the other end of the first trip wire.
“Peppy, nothing’s funny if said while being dismembered.”
The two of them circled the stone formation and chatted in hushed tones. Gunnar lit a cigarette.
Ava sat beside Cort. “All right, where does it hurt?”
“I’m fine,” he said.
“No, seriously. We all have scrapes and stuff. I need to make sure nothing will get infected, or that there are no poisons, stuff like that. If you tell me where it’ll go faster.”
“Seriously, I’m all right. Manny got to me quickly enough.”
“Okay, sorry for asking,” she responded finally and left him, even though she didn’t believe him. No one was able to run through the Zoo at the speed they had without sustaining scrapes, but whatever. She had other people to tend to. A little irritated, she drew a deep breath and went to check on Manny.
The pilot knew the drill. He pointed out a few scrapes which she disinfected and then either left as they were or bandaged up, depending on their severity. She did the same when Peppy returned, once more for Gunnar, and finally, for herself.
“I’m glad I wore actual clothes instead of a skirt and blazer like last time,” Ava said.
“Yeah, I guess.” Manny grinned. “But I dunno. I miss your nurse’s shoes.” She was about to snap a retort, but he said, “Gunnar! You owe me a pack of cigarettes. Those were hyenamites. Pay up.”
“What, right now?”
“Don’t kid me, Gunnar. I might die within the hour. I want some of that cool hard nicotine.”
“I thought this was a safe place to rest,” Cort protested.
“Damnit, Manny, you won’t even smoke them. Can’t you wait?”
“Until I’m six feet under? Hell no! Rule number seventy-three. A bet’s a bet.”
“You’re making these up,” Peppy said.
He shook his head and extended his hand. Gunnar grumbled but scrabbled in his pack, retrieved a pack of cigarettes, and handed it over. Manny made a big show of slapping the box against one hand—to properly compress the tobacco, he assured them—pulled out a cigarette, smelled it like it was a fine cigar, then dropped it to the ground and crushed it beneath his bare foot.
“Fuck you, Jack Mann.”
“Ahh… I love cigarettes,” the pilot said, drew out another one, and broke it in half. “They really help me relax.” He sprinkled the tobacco on the ground. “So, does anyone have any idea what’s going on?”
The others looked blankly at one another, but no one said anything. “Yeah, me neither. It’s nuts. I’ve seen stampedes that make more sense than the last hour.”
“Something has affected those people’s heads,” Ava said.
“The zomberries,” Peppy agreed. “It must be. The question is what the constrictadile has to do with it.”
“That’s a hypothetical question best solved in a lab over a cup of coffee—Manny, stop it!” Gunnar tried to snatch another cigarette out of Manny’s hand, but the Australian was too quick. He yanked his hand away, crushed the smoke beneath his fingers, and actually giggled like they had just left a kid’s birthday party instead of charged through the most dangerous place on Earth.
Peppy put a hand on the soldier’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Ava wondered what but figured the woman only tried to distract him from Manny.
“The more pressing question is how we’re going to save all those people.” Ava scratched her head and discovered that her hair had far more mud in it than she’d realized. “Maybe it makes more sense to try to get back to the helicopter and go for reinforcements.”
“That makes sense to me,” Cort said. “After everything that’s happened, Captain Taylor will understand why we failed.”
“Are you sure? He doesn’t seem like he understands much that doesn’t go his way.”
“We’ve seen no sign of him—” Cort ended the unfinished sentence with a weak shrug.
Who? Ava wanted to ask but Manny spoke first.
“Goddamnit, you two, spill it!” Manny said to Gunnar and Peppy. They still continued to whisper to one another. “Do I have something in my teeth, or what?” He grinned to reveal a mouthful of mud.
Gunnar and Ava laughed but Peppy ignored the slapstick humor.
“I recognized one of those people chasing us,” Peppy said.
“I did too. I knew his face, anyway, but Peppy matched a name to it,” Gunnar confirmed
“Please, waste more of my time. I love the suspense,” Manny said.
“His name is Dr. Kessler.” Peppy glared especially sharply at the pilot.
“Again, wasting my time,” he said.
Ava, though, watched Cort. At the mention of Kessler’s name, he’d frowned and perked up.
The other woman continued. “Dr. Kessler used to work at Wall One. He was some slick scientist who thought he owned the Wall One base.”
“More like slick asshole,” Gunnar interjected.
“He was a theoretician,” Peppy added. “Which meant he didn’t know how to wipe his own ass. Anytime we brought back any intel, it wasn’t enough.”
“You coulda given this guy a burger and he would’ve studied its molecular structure instead of eat the damn thing,” Gunnar said. “Damn it. Now, all I want is a burger.”
“Likewise, mate. You yanks got that one right.”
“You’re sure it was Dr. Kessler?” Cort asked and sat a little straighter.
“Yeah, I’m sure. I never forget an asshole.” Peppy said. “Why?”
“He’s your mission, isn’t he?” Ava asked.
Cort looked like he would deny it but finally nodded. “Kessler is high priority.”
Everyone stared at him. “We gonna need more than that, pencil-pusher,” Manny said.
The lieutenant sighed. “He was making progress on a new weapons system when the Surge happened. Two days ago, Captain Taylor sent in his best team of commandos to retrieve him.”
“Second best team,” Manny said. “Also, we need a team name.”
Cort ignored him. He was adapting to the crew. “The team never came back and never made contact with us either. We assumed he and everyone else was dead until we saw the flare. Kessler’s the reason the captain sent me out here with you. He needed to know if the search and retrieve team shot that flare, and if they’d seen Kessler.”
“How about The Digeridudes!” Manny suggested and stood so quickly he splattered the rest of them with mud.
“What?” Cort asked, shaken.
“For a team name. I mean, that’s one idea.”
“What about Kessler?” the officer said.
“What about him? Him being part of that mob of zomberry-eatin’ bastards doesn’t change anything.”
“It changes everything,” Cort said, almost to himself. “We have to bring him back. Even if it means leaving the others.”
“No way,” Ava said. “We save everyone.”
The lieutenant shook his head. “Kessler is higher priority. The soldiers who went out there understood that. You all know that sometimes, sacrifices must be made. We have to save him.”
“Says who?” Manny said.
“Says logic. Ava, you said you were out here to help people. Well, we all saw firsthand how well the Zookeepers are doing out there. The Zoo is winning. It’s defeating the best military in the world and it’s beating our best scientists. At this rate, it will overtake Wall Two
before the wall is even finished. If that happens, the whole world is screwed. We need better weapons. And if this Dr. Kessler knows half of what we think he does, he’s more valuable than any of us.”
“Screw that,” the pilot said, but Ava sensed that he looked at her for approval. “What does a pencil-pusher like you know about saving lives?”
Cort stood, his back rigid. “Pencil-pushers are who make the orders. We must get Kessler, no matter what. That’s…that’s an order!”
Peppy and Gunnar exchanged a look. Ava thought they looked impressed.
“Fuck off, kid. I didn’t ruin my first crowd-dive for you to get all inspirational bullshit artist on me.” Manny towered over the other man, his shoulders twice as wide as his smaller companion’s. While Cort looked uncomfortable covered in mud, Manny looked like he was in his element. Despite his recent discovery of his own spine, Ava knew the lieutenant would need help against the man who claimed to be raised by dingoes most of the time.
“Cool it, Manny.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and immediately regretted how filthy she became. “Look, we need sleep. We can figure this out in the morning. Does that sound good?”
No one spoke, but Ava knew they all agreed. The question was whether they would agree on anything in the morning.
Chapter Twelve
She woke with a start, immediately aware of something that hovered above her in the darkness of the night. Instinctively, she grabbed for the knife she now kept in her boot. Before she could wield it, something had her by the wrist and locked the weapon against her side. Shit. This was it.
“No offense, but I don’t want you to practice any stitches on me.” It was Peppy.
Of course it was. “Sorry.”
“For what? Being too slow to stab me?” The woman didn’t sound particularly intimidated.
“No…for not waking up for my shift.”
Peppy snorted. “Are you ready for your turn on watch?”
“Yeah, I’m up.” She pushed off the ground, stretched, and peered into the gloom.
“If you start to fall asleep before your shift is over, wake Gunnar or me. I know you’re still new at all this.”
