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

by Spears, R. J.

  Eli’s nostrils flared, and his eyes went wide, “We don’t have later. Thousands of those things are on their way. This is fucking Normandy Beach, only we are the Germans. We need information, and we need it now. Give him something to wake him up.”

  Doc Wilson’s face went flat, and he said, “No.”

  “What do you mean, no?” Eli asked. “We need more information.”

  Doc Wilson looked at his feet for a moment, then looked up, “I know what he was. I was out there in that dorm when he attacked with all those zombies. He is not that...that thing any longer. He’s just a man now. A man whose body has been put through inhuman punishment. He needs to rest to recuperate.”

  “None of us would recuperate if that thing had its way,” Eli said.

  Del reached up and touched Eli’s shoulder, causing him to flinch.

  “What?!” Eli asked.

  “I was out there, too,” Del said. “I wanted that thing as dead as much as anyone, but he’s not what he was, is he Doc?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Doc Wilson said. “I’ve checked him over, and it seems as if he has completely reverted to his human form.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Eli asked. “He could have more information that we need.”

  Jones cleared his throat and said, “You know, we might not be able to trust anything he says. Whether he was human or not, he could still have an allegiance with the ones on the way here.”

  “Then why don’t we just kill him?” Eli said, and his hand went to his sidearm.

  “No!” Doc Wilson shouted. “I will not allow that,” as he placed his body in front of the gurney with his arm stretched out protectively.

  Del stepped in between Eli and Doc Wilson. He said, “Okay, okay, there’s a lot of heat going on here right now. As my high school football coach used to say, save that for the game, or, in this case, the battle. Besides, that thing or guy or whatever you want to call him is out of it, and we have shit to do. Like Jones said, we can only go so far with what we heard from him.”

  “I agree with Del,” Jo said. “The rest is up to us.”

  “Of course, you’d agree with the Doc and Del. they are your people,” Eli said.

  “Get some of your people in here, then,” Jones said.

  Eli closed his eyes, and his fingers came up to massage the bridge of his nose. When he stopped, he said, “You’re right about one thing, no one has time for this shit. Doctor, if he wakes up, you let me know. I’m putting one of my men in here with you. Any intell he,” he pointed at Grayson, “gives you, it is relayed via my man to me. Pronto.”

  “Of course,” Doc Wilson said.

  Eli pushed his way past Jones and Jo and stormed out of the room, letting the lab door slam behind him.

  Darke said, “He seems a little tense.”

  Chapter 35

  Final Approach

  Audrey crested a hill overlooking a long sloping valley that led down into the river. Although her senses were dulled by her condition, the surrounding forest was redolent with the smell of charred, damp wood. Wisps of smoke seeped up from blackened leaves. The burnt trees looked like they were painted with charcoal against the distant yellowish-pink horizon.

  In the dim light of dawn, she saw lights sparkling down in the city. These weren’t campfires, but real electric lights, twinkling against the dark background. It had been a long time since she had seen powered lighting. Lance had suspected that there might be some real, live people in this city. So had Grayson.

  They knew things that she and Maxwell didn’t know, and they only shared these secrets with each other.

  When she pivoted her view, she saw a huge mass moving among the burned-out trees on a series of hilltops in the distance. She knew that was Maxwell and his horde of the dead.

  It was Lance’s plan that she and Maxwell would take the two sides, and he would come down the middle. She looked down into the valley, which hosted the state highway that led into the city. She saw another large mass filling the roadway and up onto the bottom of the hillsides.

  It was much darker down on the road. The figures and forms shambling along it seemed to have congealed together and made her think of black lava oozing along, ready to erase anything in its path.

  That’s the way they were. Eradicators. Decimators. Destroyers.

  In so many ways, she didn’t understand this half-life -- this step between the worlds of the living and the dead, but she surrendered herself to it. There was always the voice, prodding her and the others along. It spoke to them in the night, cajoling and convincing them that this path of destruction was the only way.

  Indeed, the living, breathing humans would never accept their kind, it always said. If the living had their way, they would put them all down.

  The scientists back in Indianapolis certainly treated them that way. She and the other members of her half-dead tribe were as disposable as toilet paper. Anything and everything could be sacrificed in the search for a cure.

  The four of them, Lance, Grayson, Maxwell, and Audrey, hadn’t been the only ones to be a part of the big experiment. There had been dozens more. All of them had been expendable. Not one word was spoken of the moral consequences of these sacrifices because none of their kind were truly human. Therefore, they could be sacrificed at any instant.

  They could be poked, prodded, and operated on. When no results were uncovered, more extreme measures were taken. They were burned, electrocuted, drowned, and any number of horrible acts perpetrated on them in the name of science.

  It was only when the facility was overrun by the undead that Audrey and her three comrades were able to escape due to the way they attracted the undead. Both Grayson and Lance had suspected something about this control, and they managed to use the undead creatures to exact their revenge and ultimate freedom. To say it was a bloody rebellion would be a vast understatement.

  She let out a long sigh as the zombies congregated around her as she followed the progress of the two hordes flowing toward the city. While she knew that whatever inherent powers they had to attract the undead was their strength, it wasn’t something she reveled in. There were times that she thought that voice that spoke to her in the night wasn’t truly external but was a product of an induced insanity brought on by constant close proximity with the undead. If it hadn’t been for the fact that Maxwell shared that he heard the voice speaking to him, she would have been convinced that she had gone completely insane.

  Well, that and the fact she was half dead. She knew her condition wasn’t normal. Not even close to it.

  Tracking Lance’s and Maxwell’s progress, she saw their groups getting a substantial lead on her. She knew they wouldn’t do, so she put her head down and pushed herself forward through a pack of the undead. They never tried to grab or impede her, but instead, turned into the willing sycophants they were and followed her along. Once she shoved her way to the front of her throng of the undead, they grouped behind her and followed her like diligent sheep.

  Instead of baaing, they moaned, groaned, and grunted. She allowed herself to drift down into a state she called auto-pilot, where she was there but not there.

  Her final thought before going under was that maybe all this groaning and moaning was what was making her less than sane.

  Chapter 36

  Pep Talk

  The sun broke over the horizon, spraying bright light across the landscape to the east. The light outlined the hills and forests, giving them a warm, almost peaceful glow. On any other day, it might have cheered up the people inside the Sanctum, but none of them took any solace in it.

  Along the walls and inside the buildings, halls, and dormitories, a sense of dreadful anxiety pulsed. For those inside that had served in the military, it was akin to the feeling they had before entering a big battle. In those instances, they knew they usually had a tactical advantage, but in this case, they didn’t have that kind of confidence.

  In everything they had been told, the odds seeme
d heavily stacked on their opponent’s side. While people inside the Sanctum had a multitude of weapons, their opponent had a massive advantage when it came to sheer numbers. Since only a few inside the Sanctum had ever seen this horde, the others had to use the imagination. There were only two ways to go with that, and that was either clamp it down or let it run wild. Those that let the mental wanderings go to dark places were nearly paralyzed with fear.

  Jo and Del were back in their position on the wall when they heard a vehicle approaching them from behind. When they turned, they saw Karen Gray standing in the back of a truck. In her hand, she held what looked like a microphone. On the top of the truck’s cab sat two oversized public address speakers.

  A man named Bonds was at the wheel of the truck, and he piloted it to a gentle stop just inside the main gate.

  “Wonder what is up?” Del asked.

  “We’re about to find out,” Jo said, her face locked in a neutral expression.

  Bonds left the truck idling as Karen Gray surveyed the people along the walls. After a few seconds, she brought the microphone to her mouth and must have pressed the talk button, as she said, “Hello.”

  Her voice boomed out of the two speakers as feedback rolled across the walls. A few people winced, and a few ducked down as if under some sort of physical assault.

  Karen Gray tapped on the cab of the truck with her hand, and after a moment, she tentatively tested the microphone again. “Sorry about that,” she said. This time the volume level was set appropriately, and there was no feedback.

  “I’m here to let all of you know that I have the utmost confidence in you. This will be a defining moment for the people of the Sanctum.” She paused and added, “And our guests.” Again, she paused as an electric hum rolled out of the speakers. “Much has been said about how formidable our adversary is. I know it must sound somewhat frightening, but I can tell you that I know, deep down in my heart, that I’m positive that we will come out of this victorious.”

  She paused again and swiveled her head in a long arc, taking in everyone on the wall.

  After this appraisal, she said, “We have faced much adversity in our time here, but we have come through it all. I’m positive that we will overcome this, too. While they have a large force, we have some things that they do not have. The first of those is intellect, but more than that is heart. Those will be the deciding factors. I’m sure of it.” Again she took a pregnant pause as she tilted her chin upward. “Courage, my friends, courage.”

  She lowered the microphone and rapped on the top of the cab. Three seconds later, the truck was in motion and turning in a long looping arc, driving toward the back of the Sanctum.

  No one spoke, but there was a noticeable lowering of tension in the people around Jo and Del.

  “She certainly channeled a lot of Dwight D. Eisenhower there,” Del said.

  “Huh?” Jo replied.

  “Oh, that was a lot like the speech that Eisenhower gave the troops on D-Day. Give Em' hell and on to victory.”

  “Well, she is a scholar,” Jo said.

  “But, I thought her area of expertise was engineering?” Del asked.

  Jo just shrugged.

  “You know, Eisenhower wrote another speech for the day after the invasion,” Del said.

  “And?” Jo replied.

  “Just in case they got slaughtered and driven back into the ocean.”

  “You’re being a real buzzkill, you know,” Jo said. “My morale went up after she finished.”

  Del looked at his feet for a moment but then said, “Sorry.”

  They watched Karen’s truck until it disappeared around the corner of a building. When they returned to their watch, they both felt a little deflated, and Del regretted raining on Jo’s parade.

  Less than a half-mile away, Lassiter and Luke were both on watch duty again atop the dome of the convention center. Lassiter was doing most of the watching, while Luke spent his time fidgeting.

  “So, you’re saying that the smart zombie is now a human?” Luke asked.

  “I already told you,” Lassiter said as he scanned down State Route 50 for any sign of the approaching threat.

  “Does he look human?” Luke asked.

  “Yes,” Lassiter said.

  Luke edged closer to Lassiter and asked, “Really, truly human?”

  Lassiter dropped the binoculars from his eyes and turned to Luke. His eyes were narrowed, and his face seemed over tight. “Listen, he was messed up two ways to Sunday. Both of his knees had been practically shot off, and his shoulder had a bullet in it. He was in a lot of pain, but he was human.”

  “But what did he say?” Luke asked, not seeing that Lassiter was irked with all the questions.

  “Nothing we didn’t already know, except that the three like him might have some weapons,” Lassiter said.

  “Like guns?” Luke asked.

  “Like guns and maybe something a little heavier.”

  “As heavy as what took down that chopper?”

  “It doesn't matter,” Lassiter snapped. “They’re coming, and we have to deal with it. No more questions.”

  “Geez, you don’t have to get all pissed off about it,” Luke said as he moved a couple feet from Lassiter.

  Lassiter didn’t apologize or try to smooth things over. Instead, he turned around and went back on watch. Luke sulked by himself and took the magazine out of his rifle to check it for the fifteenth time. When he snapped it back in, he took a quick peek at Lassiter and saw a change in Lassiter’s posture. He had stiffened up and was sitting upright. The binoculars were locked to his eyes.

  “What do you see?” Luke asked, moving back to a closer position.

  Lassiter shot up his hand with his index finger extended. It looked as rigid as the rest of his body.

  “What is it?” Luke asked.

  “Wait,” Lassiter said, but the word was pinched off and tight.

  For twenty seconds, Luke remained patient and quiet, but he had his breaking point.

  “Is it them?” Luke asked, almost pleading.

  “It is,” Lassiter said in a flat voice that was almost chilly. “Give me the walkie.”

  Whereas Lassiter was tight as a stretched cable, Luke felt as loose as jello. Somehow, it was as if all his strength had left his body, and his mouth had gone dry.

  “Walkie. Now,” Lassiter said with binoculars still up, and his hand extended.

  The terseness of Lassiter’s words brought Luke out of it, and he grabbed the walkie-talkie off the belt clip on his waist. It felt much heavier than its hard plastic shell and electronic guts. It felt like it was made of a block of lead.

  Somehow, he managed to get it into Lassiter’s hand without dropping it.

  Lassiter dropped the binoculars from his eyes and brought the walkie-talkie up toward his face. As soon as he had it positioned, he keyed the talk button. “Lookout to Sanctum, come in Sanctum.”

  He didn’t have to say it twice.

  Luke couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but he listened intently to Lassiter.

  “I have spotted two groups,” Lassiter said. “One is hugging the river, moving along 50. The other looks like it’s coming through the woods on a straight line to the city.”

  Lassiter paused, obviously listening to the other end of the call.

  “I can’t get much of an idea of the one coming through the woods,” Lassiter said, his voice calm as if he were giving play-by-play at a golf tournament. “The ones on the road look to be between a thousand and fifteen-hundred.”

  Again, he paused to listen.

  “Yes,” Lassiter said. “The fires could have cut their numbers down, but there’s no way to tell. Besides, we don’t know what is coming through the forest. What do you want me to do?”

  Lassiter listened and, to Luke, looked a little more relaxed. Luke didn’t understand that at all. He was about to jump out of his own skin.

  “ETA?” Lassiter said, but it sounded like a rhetorical question. “
Two hours to the first bridge. Maybe three.”

  Again, Lassiter listened.

  “We’ll see,” he said. “The river is running high. Maybe that will discourage them, but I don’t think so.”

  He paused to listen, standing unmoving, reminding Luke of one of the famous statues of a Korean War soldier he saw as a kid when he visited Washington, D.C. with his FFA group.

  “Can do,” Lassiter spoke into the walkie-talkie.

  He lowered the walkie-talkie and held it at his side while he peered westward.

  “What are we doing?” Luke asked in a slightly shaky voice.

  “We are to hold tight and wait for them to hit the bridges,” Lassiter said. “Or where they used to be.”

  “I sure don’t like that,” Luke said. “We gotta get down off this thing and high-tail it up that hill.”

  “We can do it,” Lassiter said. “We need to see how many can actually make it across the river.”

  “Can’t we do that back behind the walls?”

  “Don’t worry, I know when to pull the plug on this operation,” Lassiter said. “It’s my ass on the line, too.”

  Chapter 37

  The Anxious Times

  If the air around the Sanctum had been filled with tension and anxiety before, it went to the next level on the news that the horde was within sight. The place and the people became almost super-charged as everyone went into another gear. Some fighters compulsively looked over the edge of the wall, even though there was nothing to be seen. Others rearranged their stacks of ammunition while others prayed.

  Jo and Del watched as one group down from them got what could only be called, ‘jumpy.’ She was down on one knee, allowing her to see over the lip of the wall. He was leaning against it.

  “Someone’s going to shoot themselves in a minute down there,” Del said.

  “Should we go say something?” Jo asked.

  “Those are Eli’s people, not ours,” Del said.