by Dana Fredsti
Gentry patted her on her helmet. “If you’re very good, Santa might put one in your stocking.” She answered with a dirty look.
The wild cards crouched on the inner side of Mount Gillette where it ran the length of the main parking lot. Gabriel was out with Nathan and the rest of the soldiers, setting up lines on the far side of the barricade. They’d built a couple of makeshift wooden ramps on either side, so our people could go back and forth with relative ease.
Most of the remaining soldiers, Alpha, Beta and assorted personnel, were already in position at various points along the barrier, watching for the swarm. Aerial recon confirmed that the majority of the zombies were approaching along the road that ran directly from town, right up into the parking lot—flat and empty, easy to cross.
Abandoned cars had been moved, parked nose to tail across the outer edge of the lot to create an additional barrier. We had sharpshooters up in strategic places to take out as many zombies as possible, and several lookouts spread around the perimeter of the campus to catch stragglers coming from other directions.
The fog lay heavy in the air again, thick and moist and cold. Once again the cosmic FX designer had given us the perfect day to battle hordes of the undead.
What’s wrong with a little sunshine? I wondered.
The air itself smelled of eucalyptus, sea salt from the ocean, and something else—a faintly rotten taint wafting in on the currents. What breeze there was carried the moans of the damned—or was that my imagination?
It didn’t matter. The swarm was on its way, and soon enough the smell of putrefied flesh would fill our senses.
I still wanted to know what the story was with Nathan and Simone. And why was it that Colonel Paxton seemed content to have Nathan take the lead in what was his operation? But explanations would have to wait.
We’d stayed up late into the night figuring out how we were going to face what could be several thousand zombies with a ragtag group, some of whom would be more liability than asset on the battlefield. And then there were the survivors who still hadn’t come to grips with the fact the dead had returned to life. They could barely function on a day-to-day basis, let alone fight against something they refused to accept was real. They’d stay in the secure lower floors of Patterson Hall while the rest of us fought.
If we lost, well, they’d be blissfully unaware of it right up to the moment the military dropped a tactical nuke.
For the moment, though, we had to unload the stuff we’d lugged from Nathan’s armory and divvy it up among the soldiers and those civilians who were willing and able to fight. We had little canvas backpacks piled up, each one waiting to be stuffed.
Tony and Kai dragged out a pair of battered metal cases from the cache we’d brought with us. Tony opened one that held racks and racks of tiny little metal darts, each about the size of a six-penny nail with bright red and yellow fins.
“What are these?” He held up one of the glittering little arrows. Fingers immediately plucked it from his hand.
“I call them ‘déjà vus.’” Nathan didn’t quite materialize from the fog, but his appearance was unexpected enough to make us all jump. I suspect he did it on purpose. “You can fire them from a rigged handgun like this—” He reached into the larger case and picked up what looked like a modified paintball gun.
“We’ve also got them packed into claymore dispersal platforms which we’ll plant in strategic locations. Those will launch a shitload of them all at once, sending them in a specifically aimed arc.
“Nice for crowded parties.”
He loaded the dart into the gun he was holding, took aim at the closest trashcan, and fired. There was a deep metallic thunk.
I raised a hand.
“Um, I hate to say it,” I commented, “but that was kind of underwhelming.”
Nathan shot me a look.
“Not done yet. Two things: One, each flechette—”
“Flechette?”
“Dart. Each dart has a little RIFD chip in it, just like the tags they use in department stores to prevent shoplifting.” He took out a small rectangular object from his vest pocket. “This is the transmitter. It sends a radio signal to activate the dart, wherever it might be, like so.
“Fire in the hole,” he added.
We dove for cover as Nathan knelt and thumbed the big red button. The trashcan vanished, blossoming into a fireball with an earsplitting explosion.
“Item two,” he said. “The dart’s fins are made of plastic explosive.”
“Okay, that’s impressive,” I said, ears ringing.
“Totally awesome,” Tony breathed.
Nathan held up a hand.
“But here’s the downside, party people. The signal strength is severely limited. You’ve got an effective range of about thirty feet, tops. So the transmitters have to be carried onto the battlefield. And that’s a suicide mission for anyone not immune to the zombie virus, what with all that hot blood and goo splattering around.
“So the wild cards will be the ones carrying the transmitters out into the swarm.”
“How is that not a suicide mission?” Kai muttered.
Nathan tossed him a knapsack.
“Load these puppies in with the ammo. I’ll get the rest of them out of the truck.” He strode back off toward Mount Gillette as a golf cart pulled up, driven by Jamie with Simone as passenger. Both wore combat gear, and both made it look good. Jamie smiled at me as they stepped out of the cart and I gave a little wave.
That still feels weird, I thought. But I didn’t say anything.
Tony checked her out with an appreciative eye.
“You look sharp in Rambo gear,” he said, oozing charisma. She eyed him back with a noticeable lack of appreciation and turned away without saying a word. Yet he didn’t seem to mind. He was too busy checking out her butt.
Simone took in what we were all doing, picking up a knapsack stuffed full of ammo clips and déjà vu darts.
“Almost done then?” she asked, and I nodded. “Good. Jamie and I will help hand them out. We’ll each need one, too.”
“You’re going with us?” I didn’t bother hiding my surprise.
“You need as many capable fighters as possible.” Simone picked up an M-4 and several clips. She looked very capable. “Although I did promise the Colonel that I’d fall back if necessary.”
“What about Nathan?” Okay, I couldn’t resist it. “Did you promise him, too?”
Simone shot me a sideways look.
“Nathan,” she said, “has no control over my actions.”
I was still wrestling with tact when Tony decided it was completely unnecessary.
“Like, did you guys used to date, or what?” he asked.
Simone raised a patrician eyebrow.
“Now is hardly the time to discuss this.”
“But you knew each other, like, before, right?” Lily popped up like a little Whack-A-Mole. Nice to see her interested in something other than bloodshed.
Simone looked as if she’d just stepped in something foul, but we all stared at her expectantly.
“Come on, Simone,” I wheedled. “We may all die in the next few hours. Don’t make us die with our curiosity unsatisfied.”
She stared at me.
“Some would call that emotional blackmail, you know.” She sounded entirely serious.
I shrugged, grinning at her.
“Inquiring minds wanna know.”
Simone took one more glance around. Even Jamie looked hopeful. So she threw her hands in the air.
“Oh, good god,” she said. “Nathan was an Army Ranger in Pakistan. We met in Kyrgyzstan. Our missions... overlapped.”
“Did he know about the zombies?” I asked. I figured there had to have been zombies if Simone was involved.
“Nope. But I figured it out.” Nathan reappeared, carrying more cases of déjà vu darts.
Simone bristled, as out of sorts as I’d ever seen her.
“Probably wouldn’t have gotten definit
e proof if I hadn’t got bit,” he added, then he nodded to Simone. “Your crew was really good at the cover-up. But I saw and heard enough to confirm that some of the things in our nightmares are real. It also confirmed that I had a damned good reason to be paranoid about the military.
“And women,” he added.
Simone looked like an irate feline who’d just had its fur stroked the wrong way.
“You, of all people, knew the importance of maintaining secrecy in covert operations,” she replied. “Yet you expected me to disobey my orders, just for the sake of a pair of brown eyes and strong shoulders.” She stopped, as if grasping for words. “Well, that was long ago. I suggest you simply get over it.”
She turned and stalked off, as angry as I’d ever seen her. Jamie shot Nathan a glare, and hurried after her.
Nathan shrugged.
“Oh, well, at least the sex was great.” Then he walked off in the opposite direction.
“Ohmigod,” I muttered. “Definitely TMI.”
“Totally,” Tony agreed.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
* * *
A shout went out over the barricade.
The tension in the air went from palpable to physical, so thick I could cut it with my katana. The slight tinge of rot in the mist thickened to a visceral stench of putrefying flesh and rotten blood—to the point that I fumbled for my nose plugs.
The dead were walking, and headed straight for us.
A hand came down on my shoulder. I recognized Gabriel’s touch even through the armor and padding.
“The first ones have reached the edge of the woods,” he said quietly.
I nodded, suddenly shy.
Of all the stupid times to go tongue-tied.
Gabriel peered around.
“A lot of these people will never be ready for what’s coming,” he said. “They’re just doing the best they can in a situation they could never have imagined would be real.” Then he looked at me. “But you take what comes at you, and roll with it. Not bad for a Liberal Arts major.”
I smacked him on the arm.
“Thanks. I think.” We stood in silence for a few seconds.
“Can we win this?” I didn’t really expect an answer.
“I don’t know.” Gabriel looked out toward the edge of the campus. “Nathan knows what he’s doing, and Colonel Paxton is smart enough to check his ego at the door. But the numbers and the odds...”
“Let’s hope we do a Zulu instead of a Zulu Dawn.”
“Pretty much.”
We stared at each. I leaned closer, and—
“It’s okay, Rico... cough cough.” Tony grinned at us. “I don’t mind dying, because I got to have you.” Another dramatic cough.
Kai snickered.
“I hate you, Tony.” I spoke with great sincerity.
Gabriel looked at him.
“One of these days, Tony, you’ll be old enough to have a sex life,” he said. “And when you are, I hope you’ve got something more meaningful than movie quotes up your ass.
“That is, if you live past today.”
A shout went up from the barricades. Gabriel’s expression went totally grim.
“You guys ready?” he said, and we all nodded. “Good. You have five minutes to finish up here and get your asses into rank.” He gave me a last look before vanishing up over the ramp to the other side.
I got nose to nose with Tony.
“If you say ‘shit just got real,’ I swear I will kill you here and now.”
Tony held up both hands in a “who, me?” gesture, and popped in his ear buds. I smacked his arm, hard.
“Hey!”
“What?”
I pulled the bud out of his left ear.
“This! You can’t wear your friggin’ iPod into battle. What if we need you?”
Rolling his eyes, Tony grabbed the dangling bud and pulled it back.
“It’s only for the first few minutes, okay?” he replied.
“Why?”
“Just listen.” He stuck the bud in my ear. I listened to a few bars of a dramatic film score before taking it out.
“So why?” I repeated.
“It’s ‘March of the Dead’ from Army of Darkness. I want to be listening to it when the zombies start crossing the field.” He looked entirely serious. “I mean, if I might die today, I want good music to go out by.”
What could I say? It was like wishing for an orchestral last meal.
“Just leave the iPod behind when we’re out on the field, okay?”
Tony gave what might have been a nod or could have been a subtle “fuck you.” Then he clambered up onto Mount Gillette to watch for the approaching army of the dead.
Lil stood up, M-4 in hand, pickaxe strapped to her back. I put a hand on her shoulder.
“You gonna be okay?”
She gave me a weary smile.
“Yeah. I just miss Mack.”
“We all do.” I hugged her and she threw both arms around me and clutched me tightly. Our various weapons and accoutrements clashed and clanked and stuck in painful places, but it didn’t matter. I realized again that I’d die to keep Lil safe.
“Wild cards!” It was Gentry. “Time to dance!” He stood on top of the barricade next to Tony and grinned down at us. “You ready to do this?”
Lil, Kai, and I looked at each other and then up at Gentry. We yelled in unison.
“Hell, no!”
“Good! Get your asses into line!” he said. “This one’s for Mack and Kaitlyn.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
* * *
I glanced at Tony. The ear buds were in, and his eyes were shining with anticipation as zombies slowly poured out of the tree line into the field.
“My lord, the army of the dead approaches,” he said softly. Then, as promised, he yanked out the buds, tucked them carefully in his vest pocket and grinned at me.
I gave him a thumbs-up.
An explosion rocked the field as a zombie stumbled onto one of the claymores. One of the soldiers in the front row fired off a few rounds.
“Don’t waste ammo!” Colonel Paxton shouted. “They’re not in range! Wait for my signal. Then first rank, fire at will.”
Blurred faces in the distance started taking on distinct, rotting features as the first of the swarm closed the gap. The zombies’ genders became apparent, along with the hideous wounds that had killed them. I could see remnants of designer jeans and tops, dresses, a few business suits, lots of flannel shirts, and—in one heartbreaking instance—Hello Kitty pajamas on what used to be a little girl. Having the time to see the zombies without the distraction of killing them really sucked.
I silently begged Colonel Paxton to give the order to fire.
“First rank, ready... fire!”
Thank you!
The first rank opened fire in controlled three-round bursts, thirty or forty rounds per gun. Bap bap bap, bap bap bap, the three-beat staccato, over and over again until their rounds were spent. A light haze of smoke drifted through the ranks, mixing in with the fog.
“First rank, fall back!”
The first rank stepped back as the second rank stepped into position, sighting and firing as soon as we were in place.
Bap bap bap. The little girl went down.
Hello, Kitty, bye-bye.
My rounds went quickly, even with careful sighting. Second rank finished and we dropped back to let the third rank move into place. I ejected the spent clip and someone immediately handed me a fresh one. It was Jamie, still looking terrified but determined. She handed a clip to Lil, too, who had that “Aieee Kali!” light of battle in her eyes again.
Third rank dropped back, the first rank ready to step up. And the dance started over again.
My ears rang with the sound of gunfire, the shouts of men and the moaning howls of the dead providing a muted backdrop for the constant chatter of rifles. Hot brass littered the ground, and now and again an explosion marked the detonation of another claymore.
&n
bsp; Our initial goal was to stop them from getting past the cars at the edge of the lot. If too many of them made it that far, we’d have to take the field.
Some of the better marksmen used each shot to lethal effect, every bullet taking out a zombie. I could only aspire to that kind of marksmanship. This went on for what could have been minutes or hours—hard to tell when your ears are ringing and your shoulder’s numb from the kick of your gun. All of the shooters were tired, and there was no time for breaks. All each person could do was grab a quick swallow of water when it was their turn to reload.
Very quickly it became obvious the swarm hadn’t been thinned by much. Despite the growing number of unmoving corpses now littering the field, more zombies continued to stagger implacably from the road and the street. They were angling in from the sides as well, which meant some of our shooters had to peel off from the straight ranks.
Distant explosions, punctuated by intermittent gunfire, signaled that at least a few zombies were approaching from the other side of campus. The guards stationed there would signal by flare if it got out of hand. Paxton and Nathan were banking that it wouldn’t, though, since the zombies weren’t capable of strategy.
I hoped to god they were right, because we didn’t have the manpower to put up a pitched battle on both sides of the university.
“They’re at the cars!” One of the lookouts on Mount Gillette waved frantically as he yelled again, “They’re getting through!”
The zombies were crawling under and over the vehicles, slowly but inexorably. Even as we killed the ones in front, more pressed forward, crawling, climbing, and stumbling over the fallen faster than our three ranks could take them down.
If we didn’t do something quickly, we’d have to fall back behind the barricade, destroying the ramps. Even that wouldn’t stop them forever—they’d just pile up against the Slinky of Death, and then Mount Gillette, until their remains created a rotting walkway up and over.
There were just too many of them.
