Lowell had been on the nose about the number of people who had walkers as a few of those people tottered around the lobby, looking less than sturdy. And as it turned out, Archie was quite the charmer as he coaxed most of the people out of their rooms.
An older gentleman with a bald head and beak-like nose said, “So, you’re saying thousands of zombies are headed our way. Do I have that right?”
“Yes, there are literally thousands of them,” Henry said.
“I find that hard to believe,” the bald man said, “I’ve seen hundreds collect together, but never thousands.”
Henry surveyed the crowd and saw several nodding heads. “They say seeing is believing, and I have seen them. On our way here, we saw a massive horde of them on the horizon, filling it from north to south.”
“And I saw them, too,” Lowell said. “They were as thick as a swarm of locust.”
“Then how is being inside going to save us?” An older woman asked from the middle of the crowd.
“Hey,” Molly said, “you’re all welcome to stay out here and give it a try, but I’m telling you that less than a hundred zombies nearly forced their way inside this dorm just a couple of days ago. If thousands show up, you can kiss your ass goodbye.”
Henry stepped in front of Molly and put his arms up and said, “Listen, this may be a temporary evacuation. If this blows over, then you can always return to the dorm.”
Molly stepped up next to him and moved her head inches from him. “What the hell are you saying?” She asked in a whisper.
Henry whispered back, “Some of them like being out here. Let’s try this.”
“How long will we have to be inside?” The bald man asked.
“Not more than a few days,” Henry said.
Molly whispered in his ear again, “You’re such a liar.”
“Do whatever works, right?” He whispered back.
Murmurs rolled through the crowd of elderly people, and once they settled down, the bald man said, “As long as it only lasts a few days.”
“I’m sure that’s all that it will take,” Henry said, selling it with an exaggerated smile.
Once the crowd started moving toward the doors, Molly got in beside Henry and said, “You know, you can be a pretty good bullshitter.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Henry said as he pushed the front entrance doors wide open.
“Henry, do you think the old fellas are able to handle this?” Molly asked.
“I guess, but I don’t like that look in your eyes,” Henry said. “What are you thinking?”
“Oh, you like this one,” Molly said, smiling broadly.
Chapter 18
The Almost Calm Before the Storm
Night slowly fell on the Sanctum as the sun sank beneath the horizon, leaving a dull pinkish-yellow line of light until that blinked out. Throughout the day, the residents of the Sanctum worked themselves almost to exhaustion as they shored up any vulnerable spots and hardened other potential weaknesses. Plans were made, and people placed in defensive positions with most of them on the westward-facing walls.
Weapons and support equipment were positioned to be put in motion at a moment's notice. Ammunition had been distributed as evenly as possible, but most of it ended up on the west wall. The best marksman had been placed in key spots with the best shooting angles.
Jones’ soldiers stood by their war machines, ready and waiting. Garver had charge of the two helicopters and had each one ready to take flight at a moment’s notice.
Jo and Del had a position near the main gate, which put them in the place predicted to be the first point of contact.
“You should get some sleep,” Del said.
“No, you should,” Jo said. “It could be a long night.”
“Sergeant Jones said they are still at least a half-day away,” Del said. “It would be best if you were well-rested for when they arrive.”
“Like you haven’t slept in thirty-six hours,” Jo responded. “And when was the last time you saw Lucy and your boy?”
Del reached to the back of his neck and squeezed the muscles back there. His pained expression seemed to tell the whole story, and he knew Jo was right. he hadn’t spent any time with Lucy and John[1].
“You’ve been in full motion for days,” Jo added. “If you want to know the truth, I don’t think we can do much more. Go see them.” She reached out and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“I just want to know that I’ve done everything I can to keep them safe,” Del said.
“You have,” she said. “Go.”
“Your powers of persuasion are great, lady,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.”
“Not too soon,” she said and gave him a thin smile. “I’ve got this.”
Reluctantly, he walked to the closest ladder but paused there, looking back at her.
“Do I have to boot you down that ladder?” She asked.
“I’m going, I’m going,” he said and started down. He hit the ground and quickly started walking into the interior of the Sanctum. Still, just as he was ready to go around the corner of a building, he looked back and saw that Jo was looking over the lip of the wall. She scanned the darkness and watched for any signs that the horde was approaching.
In a different time and a different place, he believed he just might fall in love with that woman, but his heart was with Lucy. He also thought that Jo’s heart may be turned toward another. He sighed, knowing that she was his friend, and he feared that he might lose her in the battle to come.
But he knew she was right. It was time he paid some attention to the people he cared about most. If things went south, it could be his last time with them. With that, he turned away and left to see those very people.
“You shouldn’t have done it,” Donovan said, not looking in Mason’s direction.
“He’s lucky I didn’t shoot him in the back,” Mason said.
The two men were in place about a hundred yards to the right of Jo’s position at the main gate. Eli controlled the placement of people on the wall. The rationale behind how he did it was quite transparent to anyone who thought twice about it. He placed two groups of his own people and then one from Jo and Donovan’s group or some of Jone’s soldiers. Then he book-ended those people with some more of his people. Maybe he trusted his people more or doubted the others. With the immediate threat looming, no one brought it up. The fact that they all could be dead in less than twenty-four hours sort of pushed those concerns to the background.
“He could have been useful,” Donovan said. There was a heated quality to his tone.
Mason let out a long breath but then said, “He could have, but he and his people are responsible for Terry’s death.” He let that hang in the air for a brief moment, then said, “Besides, they’ll all probably be dead soon.”
“That’s not the point,” Donovan said.
Mason turned toward him and asked, “And what is the point?”
Donovan’s face tightened, but then after a few seconds, it relaxed as he looked away from Mason. “You could have talked to me about it.”
It was Mason’s turn to look away. “If you want to know the truth, I didn’t know I was going to do it until I did it. Something came over me and I just had to do it.”
“So, the devil made you do it?” Donovan said, and even in the dim light, Mason saw the hint of a smile on Donovan’s face.
“Shit, I don’t know what came over me. He’s been locked up since we got here, getting three square meals a day while we’re busting our asses trying to protect everyone. It just pissed me off.”
“I can see that, and please know I’ve felt the same way so many times,” Donovan said. “It’s just that we should have talked about it.”
Mason reached up, scratched his head, then dropped his hand, and said, “It was just one of those things. I couldn’t stop myself.”
Donovan looked into the distance and only saw the orange glow of the fires in the forest. He desperately hoped that the f
ires diverted the horde away, or, at least, cut down their numbers. If asked to answer honestly if he thought the Sanctum could take a direct hit from ten thousand zombies, he would have said, no,
“I guess we have bigger fish to dry, don’t we?” He asked.
“I guess we do,” Mason said.
“You need to let me out,” Ellen said through a small window in the door of the makeshift cell.
“Stop asking me,” Don said. He was tall and broad with short hair and a soul patch goatee. Tattoos covered his arms and lower legs. The ones on his legs were always on display because of his penchant for wearing shorts.
“I can fight,” Ellen said, pressing her face into the opening.
Don was sitting in a chair across the hall from a row of rooms that used to be cellar dorm rooms but had become the brig for the Sanctum. Because of his experience in the corrections system, he became the de facto warden.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “You can’t aim a gun at Karen Gray and expect to just walk around scot-free.”
Ellen took a few moments to compose herself as she had been trying to persuade Don for several hours but had made no headway.
“I made...made a mistake,” she said. “I should never have done that. You see…my son needed my help. I was trying to convince--”
“I know what you did,” Don said, cutting her off. “I was there. You crossed a line.”
“What would you have done to save your child?”
Don studied the floor for a few seconds, then said, “Anything.”
“Anything? See?” Ellen asked.
“Anything but aiming a gun at Karen Gray,” he said.
“Please,” Ellen said, pleading.
“Sorry, hun, but no,” he replied in a quiet voice.
Ellen lowered her head and placed it against the door, close to tears. She would die in here. The zombies would overrun the Sanctum, and she would never see Henry again.
A moment later, the door at the end of the hall burst open, and Don jerked forward in his chair violently, crashing against the wall. Shocked, he lost his balance and tipped over onto the floor, sprawling out. Molly rushed in, gun up, and Henry came in behind her, an assault rifle in hand.
Don fumbled for his gun, but Molly ran forward with her pistol aimed at Don and said, “No, no, no. Don’t make me shoot you.”
Henry moved into the room hesitantly and followed up what Molly said, “We’re not shooting anyone, but please, Don, don’t pull your gun.”
“Then what the hell are you doing?” Don said, holding his hand over the holster at his waist.
“This is a jailbreak, mother fucker,” Molly said, her tone almost gleeful.
“Take it down a notch,” Henry said. “We’re just getting my mom out of here.”
“Karen said she stays here,” Don said.
“Well, we are vetoing the shit out of that,” Molly said, leaning over Don.
“Henry, what are you doing?” Ellen said through the window.
“Mom, we’re getting you out of here,” Henry said.
“This isn’t the way,” Ellen said.
“You need to listen to her,” Don said. “What do you think’s going to happen when you walk out of here? Eli is going to have you put in here.”
“Who asked you, asshead?” Molly said, leaning over Blair and pulling his gun from the holster.
Henry stepped over to where Molly and Don were and snatched the gun from Molly’s hand. “Get up, Don.”
Molly’s mouth gaped open, and she said, “Henry, what the hell are you doing?”
Ellen looked into the room and said, “Don’s right. This isn’t the way.”
Don looked from Henry to Ellen and then to Molly. “Is she going to shoot me when I get up?”
Henry said, “Molly, lower your gun.” He pulled his rifle over his shoulder and let it dangle from the strap.
“Henry!?” Molly said.
“Do it, Molly,” Ellen said.
“Well, shit,” Molly said, following the request and stepping away from Henry and Don. Henry put out a hand and extended it to Don.
Don looked on it with some suspicion, but after a few seconds, he tentatively stuck out his hand and Henry pulled him to his feet. The two of them stood awkwardly for several seconds.
“This isn’t the way,” Henry said. “All I know is that we have thousands of zombies headed our way, and we need everyone that can shoot out there,” Henry said. “I think any mother who loves her son might have lost their head, and done something rash.”
Henry held Don’s gun out toward him, but Don just looked at it.
“I figure there’s a good chance that all of us might be dead in the next forty-eight hours or less. If it were up to me, I’d want to make the odds just a little better by adding another fighter to the battle,” Henry said.
“But it’s not up to me,” Don said, looking unsure.
“It’s totally up to you,” Henry said. “You just take a little break and head outside for a moment. The next thing you know, someone has broken one of your prisoners out of their cell. And in the chaos that was coming, you thought it would be better to just focus on keeping your other prisoners under lock and key.”
A voice came from two doors down from where Ellen was being held, “Hey, can I get out, too?”
Don glared toward the voice and said, “Shut up, Burroway. You’re a degenerate, and you’re not going anywhere.”
“But my mother is going somewhere, isn’t she?” Henry asked.
Don took in a long breath and held it. A few seconds later, he let it out, and he reached out and took his gun back from Henry. He held it for a moment and then slid it into his side holster. “The key’s in the desk. I’ll be gone for five minutes. If you’re still here when I get back, I’ll lock all three of you up.”
With that, he strode across the room.
The man named Burroway yelled, “What about me? I could tell someone about what just went down?”
Don came to a sudden stop and looked into the room where Burroway’s voice came from. “If the zombies do get inside, yours is the first door I’m unlocking to let them in at you.”
He started walking, and Burroway didn’t say another word. When the door slammed behind Don, Henry turned to Molly and said, “Get the keys.” He started toward the door where his mother was being held.
“We should have shot that guy,” Molly said.
“No, we shouldn’t have,” Henry said, “That’s not who we are.”
Molly shook her head back and forth but went to retrieve the keys,
“Mom, how are you doing?” Henry asked as soon as he got outside her door.
“I’m good,” Ellen said. “They have treated me well.”
Molly rushed over to the door with the keys in hand. Henry took them and opened the door. Ellen came out immediately and embraced Henry in a hug.
“I guess your ribs are feeling better,” Henry said, referring to the damage done by an accident on their way to the Sanctum.
“Oh, it hurts,” Ellen said, “but it’s worth it.”
“We should get the hell out of here,” Molly said.
“She’s right,” Ellen said as she broke from Henry’s embrace.
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Henry said.
Together, the three of them headed for the door.
“Any chance you’ll let me out?” Burroway asked from his cell.
They answered in unison, “No.” They were out the door ten seconds later.
Chapter 19
First Sighting
Robert Lassiter wasn’t cheerful about the assignment, but he knew someone had to do it. That he had to do it really didn’t surprise him. Volunteering had been his way of life. When he was a kid with two brothers and a sister, he had been the one to volunteer for household chores while his sibling lounged in their rooms.
He was living an aimless life, in and out of college, and working odd jobs when 9/11 happened. Not too soon after the nation�
��s dark times, he arrived at his local Army recruitment office, and they were eager to have him. Boot camp ensued, and then he found himself in Afghanistan, volunteering for this assignment and then the next one. Each one was more dangerous than the last. Some of his friends told him that they thought he had a death wish, but despite what they said, he had survived his time in the Mideast. He had even prospered, rising to the rank of Sergeant, first class.
He left the Army and was about to settle down into a normal life of not-volunteering when the world turned upside down. His fiance had worked at the university where the Sanctum now resided, but she had been taken down by one of the undead in the early days of the Outbreak.
He knew he could go one of two ways with his life, spiraling down inside himself or looking outward. So, instead of wallowing in despair and self-pity; he returned to his lifelong rut of volunteering again, and that’s how he ended up becoming one of Eli’s top men on security. Somehow, over time, this brought him out of his funk, and he found a contentment with volunteering again.
What he was less happy about with the assignment was his companion.
Luke Brandel had volunteered to take the night watch from the top of the convention center. Luke was one hell of a marksman, but he was too much of a good ole boy for Lassiter’s taste. Plus, he had a tendency to talk too much -- a regular, chatty Cathy.
Making it worse was the fact that getting up to the curved dome of the convention center was no easy task. Doing it in the dark made it harder. There were three ladders to climb and a catwalk to navigate, plus the roof was slick, making Lassiter think that he could slip off into the darkness at any moment.
Lassiter would have rather been inside the walls of the Sanctum and thought that anyone who would volunteer for something like this was missing some cards from their deck. (And that included himself.) The other problem was that Luke was a non-stop motor mouth.
“Do you think they’ll come in from the north or the south?” Luke asked. He sat on the dome of the building, looking almost relaxed where Lassiter stood, looking rigid and alert.
The Deadland Chronicles | Book 4 | Siege of the Dead: Page 9
