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

by Spears, R. J.

  Kent, on the other hand, just bashed into the front of the cabin. He was a little loopy but mostly coherent.

  “Get up, boy,” Clayton said to Gardner. “It’s time to make our run for it.”

  Someone pounded on the side of the MAV. “Time to move.” It was Jo.

  Clayton got up, reached back, and yanked the partially dazed Gardner to his feet.

  “You’re making me do too much damn work,” Clayton said, holding Gardner up. He looked back to Karen Gray and then forward to Kent.

  “Chop, chop, people, those zombies aren’t going to stay in the center of this place forever.”

  After opening the hatch, Clayton muscled Gardner out the hole, then guided Navarro out. Kent and Clayton helped Karen Gray up and out. Kent followed her and Clayton popped out last.

  The scene outside had Jo and Doc Wilson helping Sergeant Jones out of the Humvee. It looked like most of the meds that the doctor had given him had worn off. His face was locked in a grimace of pain. It took everything Jo and Doc Wilson had to keep the bigger man aloft and moving as they practically dragged him along.

  Henry and Molly eased out of the Humvee last. Clayton noticed that there seemed to be an unspoken tension between the two lovebirds, but there was no time for couples counseling.

  “What next?” Clayton asked.

  Henry said, “We head inside this building and wait for the signal from Howie, then we go out the side.”

  “You make it sound so simple,” Gardner said over Clayton’s shoulder. “Aren’t there zombies outside?”

  “Kid, there’s no way I’m running anywhere,” Jones said.

  “If my plan works, all the zombies are inside,” Henry said.

  “All of them?” Gardner asked.

  “Enough?” Navarro asked, trying to track where Henry was based on his voice.

  “If there are any outside, the important thing to know is that we can’t make any noise if we take any of them on,” Henry said, eyeing each member of their little party. Strangely enough, no one opposed him or even tried.

  “And how do we do that?” Gardner asked with a little whine in his voice.

  “Very carefully,” Henry said. “Let’s get inside.”

  Five minutes later, they were all standing inside the building among the hundred or so inhabitants of the Sanctum, all of them poised and anxious. A shared sense of anticipation rippled through the people as they stared out through windows on the south side of the building. They scanned a parking lot and then a row of trees and then another parking lot. Beyond the parking lot was a baseball diamond. The fences around the field should offer a nice blind for the people to walk through and avoid detection by the zombies, if everything went right.

  Things rarely ever went right, though.

  Doc Wilson mingled with the two scientists as they tried to bend his ear about a cart they had insisted on tugging along with them. The doctor looked distracted, wanting to disengage with the scientist, but they kept up their spiel as if they had something to sell.

  Henry noticed the doctor’s discomfort and intervened. “Doc Wilson, can I see you for a moment.”

  The relief on Doc Wilson’s face was palpable as Henry reached out and extricated the doctor from the over-excited scientists.

  “What was that all about?” Henry asked.

  “They have some new contraption they wanted me to see,” Doc Wilson said.

  “And?” Henry asked.

  “I have no idea,” Doc Wilson said, rolling his eyes a little.

  Across the room, Jo reunited with Madison and Ryan. These were two of the people who had come to the Sanctum with them. Madison was a dark-haired thirteen-year-old who had lost her entire family early on in the apocalypse. Ryan was a quiet teenager who had once been captive of a madman, who forced him to do some very horrible things. It seemed that everything he did was on the path to redemption.

  Jo had tasked them with maintaining an eye on the people sent to the south wall to act as her inside men.

  “When do we go?” Madison asked in a hushed voice as she leaned in close to Jo.

  “As soon as we get the signal,” Jo replied.

  “When is that? Madison asked.

  “As soon as we hear that the zombies have collected in the center of the Sanctum,” Jo said.

  “How does that work?” Madison asked.

  Just as she asked the question, Bonds showed up and said, “I say we stay here.”

  Henry stepped up close to them and said, “Bonds, don’t get cold feet now.”

  “We’re safe here,” Bonds said.

  “But for how long?” Henry said. “If we don’t do this, we’ll all be dead or on the run. We can only keep the zombies locked down for so long. If we don’t trap them inside, they’ll come after us, and it’s over.”

  Henry’s argument caused Bonds to wilt quickly, which left the door open to an exit strategy for the group. The problem is that no one knew when that exit would happen, which was never a good thing with a group already anxious and in fear for their lives. Henry hoped and prayed that call would come soon.

  The tension in the room seemed to amplify with each passing minute. Jo sensed this but knew that leaving early could be very dangerous. She also knew that the longer they stayed, the greater the chance these people might never want to leave. It was like riding on the edge of a razor.

  Stepping next to Henry, who was staring out one of the windows, she whispered, “We’re not going to be able to hold these people here much longer.”

  “If we go out too soon, this whole plan could go south,” Henry whispered back.

  “We don’t really know over half these people, and they don’t know us,” she said. “If anyone other than Bonds was with us, I think we would have a revolt.”

  When Henry looked at her, he looked every bit of the fifteen-year-old kid he was. She also saw beneath the fear he was trying to hide. But there was also the same quiet strength that came from his father, Greg. The kid just needed a little more seasoning, and he would be everything his dad was and possibly more.

  She put out a hand and gave his arm a squeeze, then said, “It’ll be okay. You got this.”

  He asked, “I do?”

  “Sure you do,” she said. “This plan is your brainchild. You saw what no one else did. You thought outside of the box. Your dad would be proud of you.”

  “The outside the box thinking came from Joel, I think,” he said, looking sheepish.

  “Yeah, he was good at that,” Jo said, and she wondered if any of them would ever see Joel again. Or if he was even still alive?

  Her thoughts were interrupted when a voice blared from the speaker on the walkie-talkie at Henry’s side.

  “We have a shit ton of zombies around us,” the voice said. Music played loudly behind the voice.

  Henry snatched the walkie-talkie up and asked, “Who is this?

  “This is Howie? Who the hell is this?” The voice responded.

  “My name is Henry.”

  “Hey kid, get an adult on the line,” Howie said.

  Henry’s shoulders slumped, and he closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths.

  Jo held out her hand toward Henry to take the walkie-talkie. “It’s just easier.”

  Henry slowly extended his arm and handed the walkie-talkie to Jo.

  Bonds, who had walked a few steps away, moved in closer to Henry and Jo, all eyes and ears.

  “Where are you?” Jo asked.

  “First a kid, now a chick,” Howie said. “Is there someone else there?”

  Jo ignored the question and repeated her question.

  “Three stories up, dead center in the Sanctum, looking at a whole hell of a lot of zombies,” Howie said.

  “What is that music?” Jo asked, having to raise her voice to be heard.

  “Don’t ask,” Howie said. “Listen up. Lassiter asked me to call out when most of the zombies got ‘round our building. Well, that’s what I see. So, whatever you got to do, you’d better do it.
If I have to listen to this music for one more fucking minute, I’m either going to smash the player or jump down into all those zombies.”

  A new voice jumped in on the conversation. “Howie, this is Lassiter. Do you see many further out in the area?”

  There was a long pause on Howie’s end of the conversation while a heavy disco beat pounded through the tiny speaker on the walkie-talkie.

  “There’s still some straggling in, but most are crowded around this building, just loving this shitty music,” Howie said.

  “Do you think there’s enough around the building for us to move?” Lassiter asked forcefully.

  “Hell if I know for sure,” Howie said, but then he added, “I think so.”

  Jo jumped in and said, “Let’s do this.”

  Lassiter said, “Okay,” but then he paused. “I...I…”

  “What?” Jo asked, sensing there was more Lassiter wanted to say.

  Lassiter didn’t answer right away but then finally said, “Nothing. Let’s make our move.”

  Jo knew it wasn’t nothing, but also knew that there were bigger stakes at play.

  “Henry, let’s get these people in motion,” Jo said. She turned to Bonds and said, “Bonds, it’s time. Please get your people moving.”

  “Okay,” Bonds said, and he began to direct the people around him to get to the doors on the south side of the room, but most of them held back, reluctant to be the first people out the door. It was as if they had been conditioned that the outside world was full of death and danger. The truth of the matter was that it was dangerous, but staying would be worse.

  “Henry, come here,” Jo said, motioning to Henry with her hand.

  Henry stepped over to Jo while watching the lack of progress in the crowd.

  “We need to lead them out,” Jo said. “They’re not going if we don’t take the first steps.”

  Henry said, “Okay.” He turned to see who he could work with on this, and his eyes fell on the last person he wanted to see. Clayton and Kent had gone to another room with a different group, leaving him alone with Molly. She wasn’t his choice of a person he wanted to make this move with, but he knew he didn’t have another option.

  Jo felt a tap on her shoulder. When she turned, she saw Doc Wilson staring directly at her, and there was something in the set of his face that she didn’t like.

  “What?” She asked, trying to keep any sense of alarm out of her question.

  Doc Wilson leaned in closer to her and said, “It’s Sergeant Jones.” He paused a moment as if looking for the courage to say the next words. “He’s not going to be able to leave.”

  “What are you talking about?” Jo asked, searching the room with her eyes, but not seeing Jones. Too many other faces looked her way with expressions of fear and trepidation.

  “He’s too badly wounded,” Doc Wilson said.

  “He walked here,” Jo said.

  “I had him amped up on epinephrine and morphine,” he said. “It’s worn off, and he can’t move. I’m going to stay with him.”

  “We need you with us,” Jo said, trying to think of the bigger picture. “These people may need a doctor.”

  Doc Wilson’s face hardened, and he said, “He’s my patient. I’m staying with him.”

  “No, you’re not,” she said. “I am.”

  Chapter 108

  Losses

  Donovan felt as if someone had just drained every ounce of blood out of his body as he stood over Mason. With every bit of his being, he wished he had slowed down and taken their approach to the building slower. He wished they hadn’t been so careless. He wished that it had been him instead of his friend. But there were no do-overs in life.

  He could see Mason was fighting the pain as he clutched his leg where the zombie had bitten him. Blood seeped around his fingers, and Donovan could tell it was a nasty bite but knew it didn’t matter. Any bite that broke the skin was a fatal one. It was only a matter of time.

  “Can you walk?” Lassiter asked.

  Donovan felt the heat of anger rush through his body. “Can’t you give him a minute?”

  Lassiter turned his way and said, “We don’t have a minute.” He pointed off to the approaching zombies.

  Donovan clenched his fists at his side, and it took every bit of resolve to restrain himself. He knelt down next to his friend and asked, “Do you think you can move?”

  Mason’s face was white, and it looked as if he were gritting his teeth. “Yeah, if you guys can get me to my feet.”

  A loud thumping noise sounded in the distance, and Donovan and Lassiter whirled around. When they looked in the direction of Boyd Hall, they saw a woman rushing toward them with a rifle in hand. She had dark hair, looking a little wild, and was about five-six.

  “Donovan!” She shouted with a sense of alarm in her voice.

  She sped toward them and slid to a stop just a few feet away. “What happened?” But the scene told the whole story, and her face shifted from alarm to horror. Her hand went to her mouth as she said, “Mason, oh my God.”

  They all had been around the block when it came to the zombie apocalypse. A bite was the end of the story. With the exception of these half-breeds they had just encountered, there was no coming back.

  “Don’t worry, Casey, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Mason said, trying to put on a brave face. He extended his hands in the air, and Donovan and Lassiter each took a hand and carefully lifted Mason to his feet.

  He tried to put some weight on the leg, but it was clear to see it gave him a lot of pain. Donovan moved in next to Mason’s side and slid an arm around him to provide some support.

  “We’ve got incoming,” Lassiter said.

  The charred zombie they had seen earlier wasn’t moving at any great speed, but it was fifteen feet away and shuffling on a collision course.

  “I’ve got it,” Casey said as she raised her rifle.

  “No,” Donovan said. “No shooting. We don’t want to draw anymore in this direction.”

  Casey adjusted her grip on the rifle and yanked it back, then with an explosive move, rammed the butt of the rifle into the creature’s head. The impact crunched bones in the zombie’s face, driving it into its skull. It went down and never moved again.

  “Nice move,” Mason said.

  Casey started to say something, but Lassiter cut her off. “We just got the signal. Are the people inside ready to roll?”

  “Yes,” Casey said. “Most of them are. Some want to stay, but I think they have been convinced to go.”

  “They have to,” Lassiter said. “The center of this place is swarming with zombies. They’re not going to stay that way forever.”

  Casey’s face crinkled a little, and she asked, “What is that music?”

  “Don’t ask,” Lassiter said.

  “It’s what we had to draw the zombies in,” Donovan said.

  “It’s got a nice beat,” Casey said.

  “Disco queen?” Mason asked through a grimace.

  “Let’s get inside,” Donovan said.

  Inside was a dormitory with multiple exits through the back of the building. Groups of people clustered around those exits, nervous about the prospect of leaving the safe confines of the Sanctum. Lassiter filtered among the different groups, answered questions, and did what he could to quell any fears and concerns.

  When he turned to Donovan, Mason, and Casey, he discovered that Casey had done what she could to bind Mason’s wound, but Mason’s pasty white face dripped with sweat. Of the people massed in the back hallway, Mason was the only one sitting.

  The entire group stood anxiously in a wide hallway that led from the front of the building to the back. A set of double wide metal doors with head-height windows gave them a view into a parking lot that looked mostly free of zombies. There was a handful outside wandering in groups of twos and threes.

  Thirty anxious people were stacked up in the hallway, looking worried and grim.

  “What do you know?” Donovan asked.
/>   “We have four exits with four groups ready to go,” Lassiter said. “I said we would be the first group out, and they should follow us.”

  “Well, we have a few zombie stragglers out back, but I think we can handle them on the way out,” Donovan said.

  “How many?” Lassiter asked with a concerned look.

  “Maybe a dozen,” Donovan replied. “We can handle them.” He paused to look back over the group standing behind them in the hall. He leaned in closer to Donovan and asked in a hushed voice, “Are they all going to come?”

  “I think so,” Lassiter said.

  As if on cue, a tall woman with a narrow face and sweaty hair asked, “Are you sure we have to leave?”

  Lassiter stepped toward her and said, “Loretta, no one likes what we have to do, but this is the safest way to go. We can get to the dorm out back. It has supplies, and the building can easily be secured.”

  “How long will we be gone,” a short man with a hunter’s cap on asked.

  “We’re hoping not for long,” Lassiter said. “Once we know it’s safe, we’ll come back, and, well, kill every last one of these dead sons of bitches.”

  At least that was the plan, but even the best of plans made by mice or men could go awry. If another smart zombie was roaming around with a rocket launcher, the plan could go south in seconds. Lassiter let that part of the equation remain unspoken.

  The man in the hunter’s cap asked, “What about the people we’ve left behind? You know, the old people in the basements of the med and science buildings?”

  Lassiter replied, “They have supplies, and we’ll be back inside in no more than a couple of days.”

  “Are you sure of that?” Loretta asked, her face creased with worry.

  “Yeah,” Lassiter said. “We go in two minutes,” he added as he looked at his wrist watch.

  Mason reached out a hand, grabbed Donovan’s arm, and pulled him close.

  When Donovan leaned down over Mason, Mason said, “I’m not going with you.”

  A pained expression came to Donovan’s face. “Come on, Mace. We can get you out of here.”

  “And then what?” Mason asked. Donovan could see the tears behind his friend’s eyes. Mason reached up and swabbed some of the sweat off his forehead. “I think this is moving fast. I’ll only slow you down.”