by Jake Bible
We keep flying and I look over at Audrey, confused.
“Where are we going?” I ask. “That looks like the main area!”
“Helipad at the hospital,” Audrey says. “It’s secured there.” She glances over her shoulder at the others in the chopper. Most of them are sick and wounded. “We need to drop you all off then start getting the rest up here ASAP. No time to sight see, Long Pork.”
“I don’t want to sight see!” I exclaim. “I want to know what resources and facilities we have! I want to know if we can survive here!”
“We can’t. Not how it is now,” Audrey replies. “But that’s why we have you! Gonna have to get that big brain back to work, Long Pork!”
Awesome.
***
The hospital is secured tight. And I do mean tight. So there’s that.
The first person I see coming towards us as we land the chopper on the helipad is Amy. What the hell?
“What the hell?” I shout.
“She’s harmless,” Audrey says as the chopper powers down. She immediately jumps out and starts helping those that can walk on their own out of the chopper. “What are you waiting for, Long Pork? Get out!”
“I need my wheelchair,” I say. “My strength is shit.”
Audrey nods and reaches past a woman that is half awake. Or maybe she’s half dead. Almost the same thing. Audrey snaps open the wheelchair and comes around to my side, plopping it down in front of me.
“Hurry,” she says and bails.
“I’ll help,” Amy says, walking up to me, her eyes darting to Audrey. “Glad to.”
“You aren’t just saying that so she thinks you’re not going to kill me, are you?” I ask as Amy reaches up and helps me into the wheelchair.
“I kill you and I’ll be dead before the sun sets,” Amy sighs. “That’s been made very clear by your protector.”
“My protector? Oh, Elsbeth. Yeah, she doesn’t mince words,” I say.
The twins come hurrying out to help get everyone off the chopper and into the hospital. The cargo area is barely cleared before Audrey has the chopper powered up and lifting off. I glance at the sky, but don’t see a second one coming. It should have been right behind us.
“Elsbeth locked up some of your people,” I say as Amy wheels me inside the hospital.
“Yes,” Amy says, sounding less than pleased, but resigned to the fact.
“And you don’t have an extra set of keys?” I ask.
“I do,” Amy says. “But I’m sure she knows it.”
“Oh, I’m sure of that too,” I say. The hospital is surprisingly toasty inside. “Nice place.”
“Listen,” Amy says as she rolls me over to a set of couches and end tables that make up what used to be a waiting area. It now looks more like a crash pad, with blankets and pillows on the couches and boxes of supplies stacked here and there.
“I’m listening,” I say.
“Things started off wrong,” she continues. “I couldn’t trust any of you so I did what I had to.”
“How many did you start off with?” I ask, ignoring her lame attempt at an explanation. Or apology. Whatever it is. “How many of you have died over the years since you have been holed up in Boulder?”
“Close to three hundred,” Amy says. “We started with close to three hundred. We’re at eighteen now.”
“Eighteen? Damn,” I say. “Starvation? Sickness? The Zs?”
“All of the above,” Amy sighs and plops down on a couch.
The pretense of being a leader is gone. She’s just a broken woman that has failed at keeping a broken situation from crumbling completely to dust. I get that. Not the woman part, but the broken situation part.
“They’d still be alive if I hadn’t convinced them to leave,” she says quietly.
“To leave? To leave here?” I ask. “You kicked some out?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” Amy says and looks over at the wall, but I can tell she’s not looking at the wall itself. She’s looking back in time to that fateful decision that— “Who are you talking to? Are you talking to me?”
“Oh, sorry,” I say. “I do that sometimes.” I point at my Frankenstein head. “I’m a little off my game these days. Internal becomes external and all that jazz.”
“Okay,” Amy says. She sighs. “We were safe, but isolated. I decided we should leave. See what it is like out here. So we did. All of us. When we realized I’d made a huge mistake, it was too late. We couldn’t get back in. The system locked down and the protocols changed. It’s all gone downhill from there.”
“The Stronghold,” I say.
Her eyes widen then soften and she nods.
“It’s all gone downhill for everyone,” I say. “You aren’t the only survivor pocket to get its ass kicked.”
“But we’re the most important,” Amy says. “I had one job and I failed at it. I could have stayed. I could have kept everyone where we were and we’d know what’s going on with the rest of the world. We’d know what’s going on almost everywhere.”
I lean forward. Things are getting interesting.
“What does that mean? The rest of the world?” I ask. “What the hell are you talk—”
I stop in mid-sentence as a far off boom reaches us. Amy looks towards the doors.
“It’s started,” she says. “Already.”
“What was that?” I ask.
She gives me a funny look. “You don’t know?”
“I don’t know much these days,” I reply. I shrug and wince. Ow.
The sound of the second chopper landing gets our attention and we wait, two strangers, two failures, two people with a lot of blood and other peoples’ lives on our hands.
The doors open quickly and Stella comes hurrying in with Greta and Melissa followed by a few of our people including Dr. Stenkler.
“Jace,” Stella smiles then she sees Amy and the smile is gone. “Bitch.”
Amy only shrugs.
“What was that boom?” I ask.
“That was Denver,” Greta responds.
“It wasn’t Denver,” Melissa says. “It was our tanker truck and a few extras we left waiting for the Consortium. It worked a little better than we hoped.”
“So...you blew up Denver?” I ask.
Melissa looks at Stella. They both nod at me.
“See?” Greta smirks. “I told you it was Denver.”
“We blew up a good chunk,” Stella says. “Unfortunately, I think we blew up some of those kids too. They were the ones to set it off, so the Consortium couldn’t detect a trip wire or detonator.”
“Kids?” Amy frowns. “You’re working with the crazies? You’re insane. They’ll turn on you as soon as they can.”
“Don’t think there’s much left of them to turn,” Greta says. She looks around. “Nice hospital. Shitty location. Too far from the central area.”
“Yes, we know,” Amy says. “We used to have more secured, but…”
“She let everyone die,” I say. “It’s sad. It’s tragic. Boo hoo. But now we’re here to save her and her people. Yay! Go us!”
“That was out loud, Daddy,” Greta says.
“I know,” I smile.
“You’re an ass,” Amy says and looks at everyone else. “He’s an ass.”
“He’s also my husband,” Stella snaps. “Which means I’m the only one that can call him an ass.”
“Thanks, babe,” I say.
“Shut up,” Stella says. “Pay attention. The choppers are heading back to drop the chum on the army. Whatever is left of it. Once they are done with that then they are bringing everyone else back up here. We need to have a plan in place. We need to have an idea of how we’ll hold off the Consortium.”
She’s looking at me.
“Why are you looking at me?” I ask. “My brain is pudding.”
“Yeah, we’ve been talking about that,” Melissa says. “Elsbeth has an idea on how to unpudding your brain.”
“Unpudding my brain? Is that a thin
g?” I ask.
“It involves Kramer,” Stella growls. “I said no at first, but El is right. It could work.”
“Huh?” I frown. “Not following. Pudding brain is pudding.”
“They want Kramer to use his hypnosis shit to focus your mind on how to beat the Consortium,” Greta says. “They want to get inside your pudding and fish out the tasty parts.”
Amy shakes her head. “I’ve always hated pudding. I hate it more now.”
“You want me to allow Kramer to willingly mess with what’s left of my mind? Are you fucking crazy?” I snap.
“No choice,” Stella frowns. “We’ve done the math. They will get enough fighters up here to do some major damage. Especially since this place isn’t even close to locked down like how we thought it would be.”
Fuck this shit.
They all stare at me, waiting.
“Oh, sorry,” I say. “I thought that was going to be out loud.” I clear my throat. “Fuck. This. Shit. Not happening.”
***
“Ah, Mr. Stanford,” Dr. Kramer says, grinning as I’m wheeled up to his cell. “How are you, Jace? It is good to still see you alive.”
“Is it?” I ask.
“And speaking!” Dr. Kramer laughs and claps his hands together. “I was wondering if your speech centers would return to normal.”
“I still talk out loud, so not so much,” I respond. “You’re a shitty brain surgeon.”
“I’m an excellent brain surgeon,” Dr. Kramer says. “Amongst many other medical specialties. Unfortunately, the facilities I was forced to use with Dr. Stenkler, who is also quite accomplished, were, well, less than adequate. But, I believe you already know that.”
“I don’t know shit anymore,” I say. “Which is why I’m here. I need you to dig out what shit I do still know.”
“I’m sorry? I don’t quite follow,” Dr. Kramer replies.
“I need you to use that conditioning crap and force me to be at my best again,” I say. “Or better. Yeah, we actually need you to make me better than I was. Get all the synapses firing at once, so to speak.”
“I’m at a loss for what you mean,” Dr. Kramer says.
“Knock it off,” Stella snarls. “You know what he means and you’ll do what we need.”
“You trust me fiddling abut in your husband’s mind?” Dr. Kramer asks. “Without your protector here? Where is Ms. Thornberg? Or any of the others, for that matter?”
“We can handle you,” Melissa says. “You screw this up and you’ll never leave that cell alive.”
“Hey!” someone shouts from another cell. “Hello?”
We look at Amy and she gives us a questioning glance.
“That’s Nick,” she says. “Can I go speak with him?”
“Sure,” Stella says. “Greta? Go with.”
“Do I have to?” she whines.
“Yes,” Stella snaps.
Greta stomps off behind Amy. Stenkler takes her place by us and Kramer’s face lights up.
“Oh, hello, James! Nice to see a colleague’s face,” Dr. Kramer says. “Please explain to Mr. Stanford that what he is asking will put him at great risk.”
“I have,” Stenkler replies. “I have explained it to all of them. Unfortunately, we do not have much of a choice.”
“There is always a choice,” Dr. Kramer says.
“Not for you, asshole,” Stella nearly roars. “Do what we ask! Do it without harming my husband! And do it now!”
“Well, since you are being so polite about it,” Dr. Kramer says and smiles at me. “Jace? I’ll need you to relax.”
“No problem,” I say. “Nothing more relaxing than hanging out in an old jail during the zombie apocalypse while an army comes stomping towards us.”
“Can you try?” Dr. Kramer says.
“Jace, please,” Stella says quietly as she bends close to me. “We don’t have much time.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “Gonna relax. I’m all about the relaxing. Relaxation is my game. I am the captain of the good ship Relaxarooni.”
“He will need a chair… Oh, I see he has one,” Dr. Kramer grins.
“Fuck and you, sir,” I glare. “Fuck and you.”
“Close your eyes, please,” Dr. Kramer says. I do. “Now, think back on that day when we were on our way to Knoxville. The second day, not the first. You were angry at me—”
“That doesn’t narrow it down,” I say.
“You were angry at me and wanted Elsbeth to take me out into the woods and gut me like a stuck pig,” Dr. Kramer continues. “Which is a bit of a mixed metaphor since the actual term is bleeding like a stuck pig.”
“Yeah, I remember that day,” I reply. “You made a point of telling me how wrong my metaphor was. Good thing Elsbeth didn’t listen.”
“When I count to three, you’ll be back to that day,” Dr. Kramer says. “You’ll remember the conditioning I implanted in you. That will allow you to access all parts of your mind. Are you ready?”
“Ready? I thought we’d already started,” I say.
“Oh, Mr. Stanford, we haven’t even begun to get started,” Dr. Kramer chuckles. “Now. One. Two. Three. Blowfish carton toes.”
***
I’m sitting up in the weird trailer we set in the huge haul truck. That giant earth mover thing that Critter stole from Foster’s crew after we killed Mondello. I’m sitting in the trailer and there’s Stuart and Elsbeth and someone else. The Tin Man? Scarecrow? Oh, I missed the Scarecrow the most.
“Hey, Jace,” Jon Billings says, smiling that cocky, smart-ass smile of his. “Did you miss me?”
Jon was my closest friend back in Whispering Pines. I know I call Stuart my best friend, but that is after the fact. After Jon was shot in the head by that crazy fucker Vance. Jon was Head of Construction in our little apocalyptic oasis. I designed shit and he made sure it got built and wouldn’t fall over and kill people that were trying not to get killed by shit I designed falling over. Or something like that. We enjoyed witty banter, so I’d say confusing shit like that all the time.
“Jon?” I ask. “What the hell, man? You’re dead.”
“That I am, buddy,” he smiles. “I am very dead. But not undead. Isn’t that a nice treat? Being an ex-minister, I have a deep belief in God. But if I’d come back as one of the Zs, I don’t know. It would have been hard to believe in God when I wanted to snack on Melissa’s flesh.”
“Keep your sex life out of this, perv,” I laugh. “I do not need to hear your undead fantasies.”
“How is she?” Jon asks. “How’s my wife? Is she still alive?”
“You know she is,” I say and tap my head. “You’re in here.”
“Am I?” Jon asks. “I hope not. That is one messed up place to be right now.”
“Yeah, I know,” I nod. “That’s why doctor…uh…that’s why Dr. What’s His Name is fiddling about in my noggin. Shit! What is his name?”
“I have no idea who you are talking about,” Jon says as she stands up and walks to a table. “But we have work to do, pal o’ mine. Get your ass over here.”
I glance at Stuart and Elsbeth, but they are mute, just sitting on a bench watching me.
“Nothing to add?” I ask.
Stuart turns to Elsbeth and puts a finger to his lips. She parrots the motion and they both shhhhhh.
“Whatever,” I shrug. Then realize that I have both arms. “Holy shit! Where is Stumpageddon?”
“Who?” Jon asks as he keeps waving me to the table. “Stumpawhaton?”
“Stumpageddon,” I say, feeling my right arm. “I lost this arm, dude. Hacked it off myself with a fucking knife in an SUV up on the Parkway.”
Jon stares at me for a second then shakes his head. “Man, you are one messed-up puppy. But it doesn’t matter. Take a look at this.”
I get to him and lean over the table. He’s studying a map of Boulder. It’s a freaky map. Like out of a Harry Potter movie. The buildings seem to jut up from the paper, but are flat at the same time. Mak
es me a bit dizzy. I grab the edge of the table and Jon grabs me.
“You alright?” he asks.
“Are those people and Zs?” I ask as I watch shit move on the map. “Jesus.”
“Hallelujah,” Jon smirks. “Amen and pass the ammunition.”
“Okay, okay, what am I looking at?” I ask.
Jon points at the map, his finger tracing a road just southish of the University of Colorado campus.
“This is Baseline Road,” he says. “Fitting, in a way. This road will be very important. You can’t let Camille get past this road.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because the entrance to the Stronghold is past this road. It’s hidden, but if she has the right intel then she can find it,” he replies. “Hold this road.”
I point at the hospital. “We have a lot of people up here. That’s a ton of open space between there and here.”
“There’s a ton of open space everywhere,” Jon says. “Doesn’t matter. You’ll be able to move old vehicles all along these routes and block off the arteries in and out of the gauntlet.”
“Gauntlet? Fuck. Are you kidding me? Like Cannibal Road?” I complain. “Fuck Cannibal Road.”
“Exactly like Cannibal Road,” Jon says. “And you can’t fuck a road, dude. Don’t even try. You’ll get asphalt all up in your peehole.”
“Peehole,” Elsbeth snickers.
“Oh, now you talk?” I say as I look over at her. But she’s gone. “Whoa.”
“Yeah, your head is ten kinds of shitfucked, sir,” Jon says. “Now pay attention.”
“Attention is being paid,” I say.
“You create this gauntlet up through the suburbs of Boulder,” Jon says. “Shouldn’t be hard. You know how to work the suburbs into being your bitch.”
“I’m all about working the suburbs in the zombie apocalypse,” I grin. “I’m the Z-Burbia king!”
He shakes his head. “Don’t get cocky. When you wake up from this, things will not be how you expect. You are going to freak out.”
“What do you mean I’m going to freak out?” I ask. I look over my shoulder and Stuart’s gone too. “Where the fuck is everyone going?”
