The Deadland Chronicles | Book 4 | Siege of the Dead:

by Spears, R. J.

  By then, the two scientists had come to Grayson’s side. “How interesting,” Holloway said. “Did you feel differently when you were in that state?”

  Del wheeled on Holloway and said, “Don’t turn this into one of your fucking science experiments. Outside of those walls, when he was trying to kill us, this thing was pure evil.”

  “And I was,” Grayson rallied himself and spoke, taking center stage. “Evil, that is. When we were changed back in that lab in Indianapolis...when we were infected and then brought back, it changed us. We hated the living. Maybe it was envy. Maybe the drugs they gave us, maybe the transformation. But when I came back as that half-dead thing, I wanted to kill every last one of you. And that was before the voice came into the picture.”

  Sweat poured off his forehead, and it was obvious that the effort of talking was taking its toll on him.

  “Voice?” Darke said. “How interesting.”

  Del turned toward Darke and said, “Don’t you start that shit, too.”

  “Del,” Doc Wilson said in an even and calm tone, “We might be able to learn something that will help us with the ones on the way.”

  “There you go again,” Del said. “You and Henry were the only things that kept me from putting a bullet in his brain.”

  The force of Del’s comment staggered Doc Wilson back a step.

  “And I wouldn’t blame you,” Grayson said, grunting with each word. “But I can help you. I really can, and I want to.”

  Del whirled around and said, “You just want to save your ass.”

  Grayson didn’t respond for a few seconds, and like Doc Wilson, the two scientists stepped away from Del.

  “You are right there,” Grayson said, but this time, he seemed to be staving off the pain by the sheer force of will. “I do want to stay alive, and the best way to do that is to keep all of you alive. And I have information that could help.”

  Chapter 33

  Return Trip

  They did not return to the Sanctum as conquering heroes. They returned after losing half of their contingent along with one of their most valuable assets. No, there was no joy when they flew their chopper back into the Sanctum.

  Garver set the helicopter down with a light touch and exited with Clayton without saying a word. But Jones felt as if he couldn’t move. The loss of Berry weighed on him like a dark anchor. How could have been lulled into such a sense of complacency? How did he not expect the smart zombies not to bring weapons? The one they held captive warned them.

  The questions kept falling like a dark rain inside Jones’ mind. The show stopper was how could they even survive what was coming? When he tried to answer that question, he couldn’t because he didn’t want to hear the answer.

  A voice spoke in the door of the helicopter, “Are you okay?”

  When Jones looked in the direction of the voice, he saw Jo looking in. Her face was creased with concern.

  “I got those men killed,” Jones said. “If I’m not killing my men by my own hands, I’m killing them with my own criminal stupidity.”

  “How could you have known that the smart zombies would use a rocket launcher?” She said as she put one foot inside.

  “I should have known!” He shouted as he slammed his hand down on the armrest.

  Jo was driven to step back out of the chopper by the force of Jone’s outburst.

  Jones realized that he had overreacted and tried to get up, forgetting his wounded leg. Pain shot down his calf as if it were on fire, and he let out a muffled yelp and fell back into his seat as his leg screamed at him.

  Jo jumped into the helicopter and was at his side in two quick steps. His eyes were locked tight as he rolled with the pain. She put a hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  “Are you...Can I...Is there anything I can do?” She asked.

  “No…” he said through gritted teeth. “I just need to remember I can’t stand up like that.”

  Neither one of them said anything for several seconds.

  “It isn’t your fault,” she said in a soft voice. “You didn’t get those men killed. They did it. Those things. You couldn’t have known.”

  “I should have known,” Jones said. “Three men are dead.”

  “How could you have known? We’ve only had experience with one of those things? And he didn’t use any weapons.”

  He didn’t look her way. “We had a warning. From one we have. Besides, that helicopter could mean the difference between whether we make it or not.”

  “Listen to me,” she said. “There is not one thing that’s going to save us. This whole shitstorm is much bigger than one single helicopter.”

  “But…” Jones couldn’t get the words out.

  The helicopter shifted as someone stepped inside. Jo released Jones’s arm and looked in that direction and saw Eli standing in the doorway. There was no hiding from the rage seething off him in waves. Lassiter and Bonds stood behind him, just outside the helicopter.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” Eli growled out.

  Jones shut his eyes tightly and breathed hard through his nostrils, obviously trying to hold back another eruption of anger on his part.

  “Those bridges are...were something that this community needed, and you blew them UP!”

  Jo turned to Eli and said, “Sergeant Jones did what he did because he thought it was necessary to protect us.”

  “He thought, he thought,” Eli spat out, “but did he ask me? Did he ask Karen? Did he ask any of us?” He let the question hang in the air, but then he answered it. “No, he damned well did not. We could have locked them down on those bridges and cut them down. Those bridges were natural choke points.”

  With his eyes still closed, Jones asked, “Then why are you all hiding up on these walls?”

  Eli sputtered for a moment, then said, “We are not hiding. We are setting up our final line of defense.”

  Jones opened his eyes and swiveled in his seat toward Eli. “So, you were going to meet three, maybe four thousand zombies at those bridges? When did we ever discuss that? Hell, it could be over five thousand. We have no real way of knowing.”

  “We don’t have to discuss everything with you,” Eli said. “We can handle ourselves.”

  “So, you were going to face them down on two different bridges, then pull back to the walls of the Sanctum?” Jones asked.

  “It was considered,” Eli said, “but now that the bridges are gone, that plan is shot to shit.”

  “What if the dead came across the river like last time?” Jones asked, but he knew that probably wasn’t going to happen. Not with the river running the way it was.

  Eli stuck out a hand, his finger pointed, “You don’t get the right to second guess what we would have done. Not after you decided to blow up those bridges -- all on your own, without saying a word about it. Without even asking.”

  Jo moved between Eli and Jones, then said, “Can we take this down a notch?”

  “I told Karen that we could handle this ourselves,” Eli said. “If she had listened to me, you would have been long gone.”

  Jones slowly rose from his seat, bracing himself by holding his arms on the side of it. “And by the end of this day, all of you would be dead.”

  “How do you know that?!” Eli said, his voice rising. “What makes you so damned smart?”

  Jones grabbed his crutches and pivoted toward Eli. “Don’t ask me,” Jones said. “Ask him.” He pointed past Eli to Robert Lassiter. “He’s been in the military, he knows.”

  “I don’t need to hear from him,” Eli said. “I have experience in the State Police.”

  “It’s not enough,” Jones said. “Ask him.”

  Lassiter shifted from foot to foot and looked to the ground.

  “Tell him,” Jones said, speaking to Lassiter.

  Eli looked to Lassiter and then to Jones and then back to Lassiter. “Okay, then. Okay. Lassiter, speak your mind.”

  Lassiter looked up but hesitated for a moment. It t
ook another few seconds before he said, “I don’t know about the bridges, but we need these people here. Every fighter, every gun we have, the better our chances are.”

  Eli closed his eyes and shook it slowly back and forth. When he opened his eyes, he said, “What about the bridge on the east side of the city?”

  “If this goes south, then that may be our only way out,” Lassiter said.

  Jones cleared his voice, then said, “If it comes to us having to make a run for it, then we are all probably dead already.”

  “So you say,” Eli said. “But you don’t know.”

  “No, I don’t, but I did what I did to save us all,” Jones said.

  Eli started to say something, but someone shouted outside the helicopter, and Eli turned to see who it was. Del came into view through the door of the aircraft.

  “The scientists and that old crop duster have worked up a way to deliver the nerve gas,” he said, but he was panting from his run to the chopper. “But,” he stopped again to take a breath, “but you need to come with me.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Eli asked.

  “The smart zombie,” Del said, “he’s reverted to being human again, and he has some information that might help us.”

  Eli’s face stiffened up, and he tried to say something, but his mouth opened, then closed again. He seemed incapable of speaking, and no one else inside the chopper said a word.

  Chapter 34

  Inside Information

  “Can we even believe a word he says?” Eli asked.

  “Just listen first,” Del said.

  Jo asked, “Del, are you sure about this. That thing tried to kill us.”

  “I know, I know, but you have to see it to believe it,” Del said.

  They stood outside the science lab door, looking in, all of them hesitating. No one knew if it was fear of the nerve gas or the creature inside.

  The door had been partially opened, leaving a three-foot opening for the group to look through. The group consisted of Del, Eli, Sergeant Jones, Jo, and Lassiter.

  Inside, the two scientists stood a few feet back from a gurney with their backs to the door. For some reason, Del thought they reminded him of owls, perched on a limb.

  Doc Wilson leaned over what used to be the smart zombie but now looked like a living, breathing human. This human was strapped down and had heavy bandages on its legs and one shoulder.

  The doctor seemed to be administering some kind of medical aid to the person on the gurney. His back was turned to the onlookers in the hallway, blocking most of their view.

  “Before we go in, I want to know what he said,” Jones said.

  “He said there are three of the smart zombies leading the horde toward us,” Del said.

  “I thought we already knew that,” Eli said. “He said he was one of four.”

  “Yeah, but who could believe him when he said that?” Del asked. “He was...was, well, half dead, and he said a lot of evil shit while he was like that.”

  “Why should we believe him now?” Eli asked.

  Del gnawed as his lower lip, then said, “That’s a good question.” He paused and looked to the ceiling as if the answer might be up there and said. “I don’t know for sure, but I tend to believe him. He’s got as much to lose as we do.”

  “What?” Eli said. “That doesn’t make any damn sense. Just a minute ago, you were ready to put a bullet in his head.”

  “He’s not what he was,” Del said. “Now, he’s like us - human. That makes him just as vulnerable to the zombies as we are.”

  “What has he said about how they controlled the zombies?” Jo asked.

  “Not much, but he said they didn’t control them,” Del replied. “It was more like the zombies were attracted to them.”

  “How did that work?” Lassiter asked from the back of the group.

  Del shrugged and said, “I don’t know. We haven’t made it there yet. If you want to know the truth, I’m not sure he knows.”

  “The only way we’re going to find out is by going in there and asking him,” Jones said as he pushed forward on his crutches.

  Del gave way as he pushed on the door. It creaked open, sounding like a crypt rather than a campus laboratory door. The noise caused the two scientists to startle as they jerked around to see what was at the door. Darke held a hand to his chest as he sucked in short breaths.

  Jones led the entourage across the scientist, but pulled up at a safe assured distance. He had heard what these things could do.

  The man on the gurney groaned loudly and twisted in pain. Doc Wilson continued to administer aid to the man, ignoring everyone else in the room. He leaned down and reached into his medical bag and brought out a vial and a syringe.

  “What’s that?” Eli asked.

  Without looking their way, Doc Wilson said, “Some morphine. He’s in a great deal of pain.”

  “You shouldn’t waste your medicine on him,” Eli said.

  Doc Wilson slowly turned around and said, “He’s my patient, and it’s my responsibility to treat him.”

  Jo stepped up next to Jones and said, “He would have killed us in a second.” She looked to Del. “You saw him outside when he was whole. You saw the evil in his eyes.”

  “He’s not that....in that condition any longer,” Doc Wilson said.

  “What is he?” Jones asked, his voice neutral.

  “As far as I can tell, he’s human...and fully alive,” Doc Wilson said.

  “And I say, don’t waste our medicine on him,” Eli said.

  Doc Wilson closed his eyes for a moment and composed himself before speaking.

  “He is in extraordinary pain,” he said. “His knees are shattered. His shoulder is a mess. If he passes out, there is no way we can question him any longer, and, I believe, we are on a tight time frame.”

  “Doc has a point,” Del said.

  Just as Doc Wilson turned to give Grayson a shot, Eli said, “Just don’t give him too much. We need him awake and alert enough to answer our damn questions.”

  Doc Wilson paused, looked back at Eli, and said, “I’ll give him what he needs.”

  He turned back to Grayson and gave him an injection in the arm. Grayson let out a groan that started out almost guttural, then thinned out to a tuneless moan. His writhing slowed, and he relaxed on the gurney.

  “Can we ask him questions now?” Jo asked.

  Doc Wilson turned and gave her a challenging look, but then put out his arm with his hand up as if putting Grayson on display and stepped out of the way.

  Eli was the first to take a step closer to Grayson. Without taking a beat, he asked, “What’s coming our way? How do we stop them?”

  Grayson lazily swiveled his head, and it took a supreme effort for him to focus on Eli.

  “Whaaaaat?” Grayson said.

  “Doc, you gave him too much of that shit,” Jones said.

  “Noooooo,” Grayson said. “I wannnn to answer. I waaaant to hep.” Each word took what looked like enormous amounts of concentration.

  Eli leaned in toward Grayson’s face, “What do you have to say?”

  “Threeeeee comin’” Grayson said. His eyes were wide and glassy looking.

  “We already know that,” Eli said as he stepped away from the gurney. “That is nothing new.”

  “Noooooo,” Grayson said. “I can hep you.” He paused as his eyes fluttered for several seconds, but in slow motion. “They have weapons.”

  “We sure as hell know that,” Jones said. “They brought down one of our choppers with an RPG.”

  “Buuuuut, they have more,” Grayson said, drawing out the words. “Must be careful. Have more.”

  “Tell us something we don’t know,” Jones said close to disgust.

  Grayson’s eyes fell shut, and it seemed as if everyone swayed toward him. After about ten seconds, he snapped his eyes open. “They will not stop. They will kill you all.”

  “Oh my God, this is a complete waste of time,” Eli said, exaspe
ration in his tone.

  “Nooooo,” Grayson said, putting his good arm up and grasping the air with his hand. “Listen, please. They are smart, and they plan.”

  “What are you saying?” Eli said, leaning back in, his eyes narrowing.

  It took Grayson a couple of seconds to gather his concentration again. “Some of them won’t come straight at you.”

  “Where did you get the weapons?” Jones asked.

  “Daaaayyton, airbase,” Grayson asked. “Lance took them. He knows about them.”

  “Who is Lance?” Jones asked.

  “Leader...of us four,” Grayson said. “Hates living.”

  “But you hate the living,” Jo said, edging close to Jones.

  “I...I...I did,” Grayson said. “The voice...told us...to hate you. To kill you.”

  “What’s this voice?” Eli asked.

  By then, Grayson’s eyes were half-closed, and his voice soft, barely above a whisper. “Don’t know for sure. It told us about you. Wanted...you all dead.” He stopped, and his eyes narrowed to slits, and his next two sentences were the clearest of what he had said. “It is evil. If you ask me, it was the devil.”

  A shiver drifted up Jo’s spine, and her legs went weak. She stumbled into Jones, and despite his bad leg, he put out an arm to support her.

  “How does any of this help us?” Eli asked.

  “I helped make the pan of ‘tack,” Grayson said, but his eyes were almost completely closed now.

  “Pan of what?” Eli asked.

  Grayson’s eyebrows tightened down, and wrinkles appeared on his forehead. “Plan..of...attack. They will come from the west, but...they will come in two waves. From different directions.”

  “That’s something,” Jo said.

  “What else do you know?” Eli asked, his voice rising in pitch and volume.

  But Grayson was gone, taken down under by the morphine.

  Eli took a step closer to him, reached out a hand, and grabbed his good shoulder, giving him a hard shake, then shouting, “Hey, you son of a bitch. What else do you know?”

  Doc Wilson stepped closer to Eli, trying to wedge himself between Eli and the unconscious man on the gurney. “He’s out cold. You’ll have to ask him more questions later.”