Resistance: The Gathering Storm r-1

by William C. Dietz

  “My name is Tina. That’s my brother, Mark… He’s the one who dropped the knife. I told him not to play with it, but he did.”

  Hale saw that both youngsters were dressed in multiple layers of clothing, and both were armed. The boy had a lightweight Reaper carbine slung across his chest and carried at least half a dozen extra magazines stored in a modified Chimeran battle harness. The girl was wearing some sort of semiauto pistol in a shoulder holster and had what Hale recognized as a sawed-off .410 shotgun as well. The weapon dangled from a lanyard.

  “I recognize you,” Tina added. “Except for the eyes… They look Chimeran.”

  “You recognize me?” Hale inquired incredulously. “Have we met?”

  Tina shook her head.

  “No, Mark and I are from Pierre. We were going south when a Chimeran fighter strafed the road. Mommy and Daddy were killed, but we got away. That was four—no, wait—five weeks ago, and we’ve been on our own ever since. The house was empty when we got here, but there were pictures all over the floor. That’s how I knew you.”

  Mark had brown eyes, just like his sister, and the beginnings of a fuzzy beard. Hale noticed that the teen’s right index finger was extremely close to the Reaper’s trigger as he spoke. The boy followed his gaze.

  “No offense, mister,” he said skeptically, “but what about your eyes? They don’t look right.”

  “All of the Chimeran forms are the work of a virus,” Hale explained. “I was infected while fighting the Chimera in England. That caused my eyes to change color. But I take shots and breathe a special aerosol mist that keeps the virus in check.”

  Mark still looked skeptical but Tina’s thoughts were focused elsewhere.

  “Did Susan make it out?” The question had a plaintive quality, as if Tina identified with Susan, and thought that if the older girl had been able to escape, then maybe she could, too.

  “I don’t know,” Hale replied honestly. “I hope so. But we have more immediate things to worry about. I’m going back now. Will you come with me?”

  Tina looked at her brother as if to get his blessing, and received a curt nod by way of a response.

  “Yes,” Tina said, as her eyes swung back to make contact with Hale’s. “We’ve been stuck here for the better part of two weeks now. We made two attempts to leave, but ran into Chimeran patrols both times, and were forced to return.”

  “That’s right,” Mark agreed. “We were going to head out last night when a couple of drones came sniffing around.”

  “That was my fault, I’m afraid,” Hale confessed. “I was forced to kill some Chimera on the way in, and they came looking for me. But the search seems to have died down—so maybe we should head out tonight. Before the weather starts to improve.”

  The youngsters looked at each other, then back again. “Maybe tomorrow,” Mark said dubiously. “But not tonight.”

  “Why not?” Hale wanted to know.

  “Because the zombies are coming tonight,” Tina answered soberly. “That’s what we call them anyway… They come through here every four days, and tonight is the night.”

  Hale frowned. “What do they look like?”

  “They look kind of human,” Mark replied cautiously. “Only they have eyes like yours. And they always arrive in large groups. They’re dangerous,” he added, “but not very smart.”

  Tina nodded. “Maybe that’s why we’ve seen other types of Chimera herding them along.”

  Hale guessed that what the youngsters referred to as zombies were officially classified as Grims, not that the name mattered if one of the horrors got close enough to attack. Because once a Grim sank its teeth into a victim, it was difficult—if not impossible—to escape. The grotesque, naked horrors had been seen to emerge from Spinner pods, but beyond that very little was known regarding the creatures.

  That other Chimeran forms would herd the Grims from one place to another was something new, and would be of interest to Intel. Assuming, of course, that he could figure out a way to tell them without being court-martialed.

  “Okay,” Hale agreed. “We’ll hole up for the night.”

  He turned to look out through the open doors at the gray skies beyond. It was getting dark, and the temperature was dropping.

  “I left my pack under some trees. I’ll get it and be back in half an hour.”

  Mark nodded gravely. “We’ll be here.”

  When Hale returned, Mark and Tina hurried out to brush the tracks away as all three of them backed into the barn.

  “Do you have packs?” Hale asked. “And snowshoes? Because you’re going to need them.”

  “Yes we do,” Tina answered brightly. “We found a lot of stuff up around Draper. The whole town was deserted.”

  “And the Reaper?” Hale inquired mildly. “How did you get that?”

  “From the Chimera,” Mark answered proudly. “We followed one of them to a clearing, saw he was getting ready to butcher a corpse, and shot him in the back. I had a bolt action hunting rifle then—and the bullet went right through him!”

  “I shot him, too,” Tina added earnestly. “Six times.”

  “Good for you,” Hale said, though he wondered at the enthusiasm with which she spoke. “This would be a good time to gather your things, so we’ll be ready in the morning. Just necessities, mind you,” he added sternly. “That means one change of clothes, food for three days if you have it, and all your ammo. If we run into trouble I’ll expect you to help out.” Both youngsters nodded agreeably.

  “So where do you sleep? Up in the loft?”

  “No,” Mark replied. “We found a better place! Come on… We’ll show you.”

  He followed Mark toward the huge pile of hay, but he already knew where the youngsters had been sleeping. By removing bales of hay, and taking advantage of tunnels intended to conduct cool air into the center of the pile, Hale and his sister, Susan, had been able to create hidden rooms inside the enormous stack.

  And sure enough, after following Mark up some stair-stepped bales of hay, he watched the boy drop his gear down a vertical shaft and follow it down. Tina stood off to one side and aimed a flashlight into the depths as Hale worked his way down through the chimneylike hole, then turned to crawl the length of a horizontal tunnel. The passageway delivered him into a generously sized chamber that had clearly been occupied for some time.

  Mark’s flashlight provided what illumination there was. Two sleeping bags were laid out on the floor, backpacking gear was piled in one of the corners, and various odds and ends sat perched on ledges and protrusions. Thanks to the insulation provided by the surrounding hay, it was at least ten degrees warmer inside the hideaway. “We can’t use lanterns,” Mark said as Hale put his weapons down, “for obvious reasons.”

  Hale nodded silently, and regarded their surroundings with some concern. As comfortable as it might be, in an emergency it would be very difficult to escape from the refuge quickly. And that could prove fatal.

  “Tell me something,” he said, as Tina entered the room. “When the Grims come—that’s what we call the zombies—do they stop at the ranch, or just keep going?”

  “Oh, they stop,” Tina answered quickly. “Sometimes they use the hand pump to bring up some water, and sometimes they just walk around.”

  That was troubling news. Hiding in the cave had been iffy enough, but hiding in the middle of the haystack, knowing that a whole lot of Chimera were going to gather around the barn, seemed nothing short of crazy.

  “This place is really nice,” Hale said tactfully, “but I think we should sleep somewhere else. Fully dressed and ready to fight, if necessary. It won’t be as comfortable, but it will be a lot safer.”

  “Can I take this?” Tina inquired as she picked up a book and handed it to Hale. “It’s really good—but I’m only halfway through it.”

  Hale took the book and aimed his flashight at the cover. That was when he saw the title Treasure Island, and knew it was his. “Yes,” he said kindly, “you can. And I agree. It’s
a wonderful book.”

  The youngsters packed up after that, and all three of them moved up to the loft, where Hale made use of his father’s brace and bit to drill a line of head-high holes in the outside wall. It wasn’t the best place to be, not in Hale’s opinion, but the light had started to fade by then and he had doubts about finding a better place to hide before darkness fell.

  Dinner was cooked over Army fuel tabs in an old metal wash tub, with candles for light, and a jar of Mary Farley’s strawberry jam for dessert. Then, with all their gear packed and ready to go, it was time to take turns sleeping on a pile of horse blankets. They smelled to high heaven, but were softer than the wood floor, and provided some much needed insulation.

  Hale noticed with admiration that Tina lay with her shotgun nearby, and was still wearing the pistol and shoulder holster as she slid into her bag.

  Mark volunteered to take the first watch and Hale agreed, knowing that even if the trip back went flawlessly, he would need all his strength and have all his wits about him.

  “They’re here.”

  Hale was awake instantly.

  “There’s fifty-three of them, if you include the escorts,” Mark whispered.

  It should have been pitch black, but there was light coming from somewhere, and it was moving. Hale nodded, got up, and tiptoed over to the east wall.

  Tina was awake as well, and sat crouched next to her pack.

  Conscious of the fact that one or more of the Chimera could be directly beneath him, Hale put his right eye to one of the holes made earlier, and looked out onto a scene that made his skin crawl. There was plenty of illumination, thanks to the Chimeran battle lamps that had been placed here and there, and the shadows they threw loomed large on the snow and the house beyond.

  The Grims were lined up in front of the old hand pump, which produced a squeal each time one of them worked the handle. Cold water gushed out of the spout and the Grims drank their fill. They could have eaten snow of course—Lord knows there was plenty of it—but the Chimera did lots of things he didn’t understand.

  Meanwhile, as the Grims took turns at the pump, Hale turned his attention to their escorts, and was disturbed by what he saw. Because rather than regular Hybrids, a trio of Steelheads had been sent to herd the Grims along. They were larger than the Chimera Hale had killed the day before, more powerful, and armed with Augers. Weapons capable of firing through concrete walls, never mind wooden ones.

  So all Hale could do was stay as quiet as possible, and hope the Grims would leave soon.

  The first hint of trouble came when one of the Steel-heads raised his Auger and aimed it at the ranch house. But rather than fire at a target, the Chimera swung his weapon from left to right, as if scanning for something.

  Damn.

  Sensors built into each Auger could pick up the least bit of heat, even through solid walls. There was no way to know why the Chimera had chosen to scan the house—boredom, perhaps, or an abundance of caution. But whatever the reason, Hale felt adrenaline trickle into his bloodstream as the Auger swung around to point directly at him.

  “Get ready,” he said grimly, as he backed away from the peephole. “They’re onto us. They could shoot through the walls, but I’m hoping they’ll come inside, so I can drop a grenade into their laps. So stay back… The key is to keep the Grims off the platform.

  “Mark, you defend the walkway… Tina, you take the top of the ladder. I’ll work the gaps. And remember what the Chimera did to your parents. Shoot to kill. Understand?”

  It was too dark to see their expressions, nor was there time for a reply as two Steelheads stormed into the barn and opened fire. Bolts of lethal radiation hit the wood flooring, accelerated through it, and went on to punch holes in the roof.

  Having readied a hand grenade, Hale pulled the pin and tossed the explosive over the side. There was a flash of light as the grenade went off, followed by a resonant boom and at least one scream as razor-sharp shrapnel flew in every direction. A piece of metal hit the floor near Hale’s right boot, tore a hole in it, and continued on to bury itself in a rafter.

  He felt certain that at least one of the Steelheads was down—but what about the others? It was risky to peer over the side, but he did so anyway, just as a Grim entered the barn holding a Chimeran battle lantern high.

  Thanks to the sudden spill of light Hale could see that two Steelheads were down, but there was no time to celebrate as more Auger projectiles stuttered through the walls. Some of the bolts missed Hale by a matter of inches as he threw himself backward.

  Mark and Tina were flat on the platform, but they didn’t seem to have been injured.

  A follow-up shot by the remaining Steelhead outside might have been successful at that point, but more than a dozen Grims had entered the barn by then, and the Hybrid had no way to know who it was shooting at. So the incoming fire stopped.

  The battle inside the barn was just getting started at that point however, as three Grims succeeded in scaling the mountain of hay bales, and began to cross the walkway that led directly to the loft. Consistent with Hale’s orders Mark was there to meet them, and as he fired short bursts from his Reaper, the first Grim staggered and crashed into the rail. It shattered, allowing the body to fall to the floor below, where more of the shambling creatures were looking for a way up.

  Meanwhile, twenty feet away, there was a muted boom as a Grim made it to the top of the wooden ladder and Tina fired her shotgun. Though not as powerful as a Rossmore, the smaller-gauge .410 was deadly at close range and blew the top of the Grim’s head off. A bloody mist rained down on the creatures below as battle lanterns threw grotesque shadows onto the west wall, and the air was filled with a cacophony of inarticulate growls.

  Hale was pleased to note that the youngsters were holding their own, so far at least, but then another problem presented itself. Even though they weren’t very bright, the Grims were active, and those not already on the walkway or the ladder came swarming up the walls! As with most barns, the studs and crossbeams were fully exposed on the inside, and that was all the purchase the Grims needed.

  So Hale shouted, “Grenade!” and dropped another bomb onto the floor below. The explosion knocked most of the creatures loose from their handholds, then it was time to go to work with the Rossmore. The shotgun made regular boom, clack, boom sounds as double-ought buck tore into the Grims still climbing the east wall and dumped what remained of their bodies into the charnel house below.

  That was when Hale heard a scream, and turned to discover that, having been unable to reload her shotgun quickly enough, Tina was in trouble. Having successfully gained the platform, one of the horrors had wrapped its scabrous arms around the girl, and lifted her off the floor. Hale couldn’t fire without hitting Tina, so he lurched forward, knowing he wouldn’t arrive in time.

  The Grim opened its jaws wide.

  That was when Tina surprised both the Grim and Hale as she pulled the Browning Hi-Power 9mm semi-auto pistol out of its shoulder holster and pressed the muzzle against the monster’s lumpy skull. The Browning jumped in her hand, and a long rope of bloody goo shot out from the other side of the Grim’s head and splashed the floor beyond.

  Tina landed on her feet as the Chimera released her, and had the presence of mind to shoot a second Grim in the stomach. But it wasn’t enough, as even more of the blood-crazed horrors flooded onto the platform.

  Hale was at Tina’s side by then, blasting the ferocious Grims to bloody bits. Empty shotgun shells arced through the air, bounced off the floor, and rolled off the platform. There was no time in which to think or feel. All Hale could do was fire, reload, and fire again, in a desperate attempt to stem the grotesque tide.

  Then, as if by magic, it was over. The last of the creatures was dispatched, and the only sounds that could be heard were a liquid gurgling noise as a badly wounded Grim choked on its own blood, and the repetitive snick, snick, snick as Hale fed shells into the shotgun.

  “We did it!” Mark proclaimed jub
ilantly, as he slid a fresh magazine into the Reaper. “We killed them all!”

  “Don’t count on it,” Hale replied darkly. “There were three Steelheads, and as far as we know, one of them is still on the loose. Grab your packs… We’re getting out of here.”

  Then as if to confirm Hale’s assessment, an air-fuel grenade came flying into the barn, landed ten feet away from the haystack, and went off with a loud whump! Hale and the two youngsters were outside the immediate blast zone, but the explosion set fire to the hay, and it went up quickly. Air-fuel grenades had been invented by humans, but just as humans made effective use of Chimeran weapons, the reverse was true as well. Hale theorized that the surviving Steelhead was planning to drive the humans out of the barn and silhouette them against the flames.

  “Come on,” Hale said, having shouldered his pack. “Follow me.” Mark and Tina obeyed as Hale half slid down the ladder to the floor below. The fire was spreading, and the heat was intense.

  Auger rounds began to probe the inside of the barn.

  “Over there!” Hale shouted, as he pointed to the east wall. Having stopped by his father’s workshop long enough to snatch a sledgehammer off its hooks, Hale hurried over to where Mark and Tina were waiting. There was a loud bang as the first blow made contact with the wall. The key was to land each blow squarely between neighboring studs, and the weight of the pack, snowshoes, and Fareye made that difficult, but after three solid hits a section of siding gave way. That was progress, but not enough, as Hale put the sledgehammer down in order to kick at the loose boards.

  “Mark!” Tina shouted. “Behind you!”

  Hale turned and saw that one of the Grims was on fire. Whether it had been wounded previously, or was simply lurking in a corner at the moment when the air-fuel mixture detonated, didn’t really matter. What mattered was that the fiery apparition was just six feet away, and staggering forward with arms spread wide.