by M. Lorrox
She turns to face the crowd in the office. “Everyone stay back from the door!” She turns to Jambavan, wincing only to herself. “Ready in three—”
Harold, who only fainted for a moment, pops his head into her view. “Try and keep the flames away from the furniture!”
Korina shoves him out of the way. “Two... One. Jambavan, move!”
His hand is on the door’s unlocked handle, and he flings the door open while he jumps out of the way. One zombie is down the stairs a few steps, and its head is at waist-level. Another one is standing just outside of where the door was, and a third zombie’s feet are at head level, up the stairs.
Korina launches herself at the standing zombie and knocks it back. She uses its body to cushion her fall, and when its arms grasp her by the neck and shoulder, her hands are at its forehead. She slams its head back against the stone wall, and its skull crunches inward.
As its arms fall from her, the zombie below grabs her and is about to bite into her injured side. Lance swings the crowbar’s curved head into the zombie’s head, narrowly missing Korina’s leg, but killing the zombie instantly.
Korina climbs off the zombie she landed on and killed, and she throws it down the stairs. She kicks the one Lance just killed, and it tumbles as well. A zombie climbing up is knocked down by the two corpses and is at least slowed.
The zombie whose feet were at head-level is airborne, jumping down the steps, aiming for Korina’s back. Lance punches at its face as it descends. He misses and hits it in the shoulder, but he’s strong enough to still send the zombie flying into the wall. It lands awkwardly on the steps, rolls an ankle, and falls. While it reaches to catch itself, in a blazing motion, Korina grabs its head and twists; snapping its neck and severing its spinal cord.
As Harold watches from inside the room, his face is as white as the barn owls’ faces that he knows live in the castle’s West Tower.
As Korina stands and Lance shoves dead-stairway-zombie-number-three down the spiraling steps, more feet come into view above. “I’m going up!” Jambavan jumps in and rips the feet toward him. Brogues? Dude. Oxfords, not brogues.
The zombie falls backward but catches itself with an arm. Jambavan draws his push dagger, then climbs the steps while the zombie tries to stand. Jambavan leaps up and punches the zombie in the neck with his blade. He throws the dying corpse down below him as he continues up the stairs.
The body falls and lands partway in the office. Some of the adults in the room cower and scream. Some of the kids hug their friends, family, or chaperones more tightly. Lance is following Korina down the stairs, and he grabs the zombie Jambavan just killed and drags it behind him. “Stay clear of the blood.” A curved trail follows the corpse from the doorway down the stairs.
In the windowless room above, Jambavan finds six zombies to dispatch. There’s little light spilling up from the stairwell, but his eyes make the most of it, and although he can see the pullcord of a bare bulb, he leaves it off. One by one, by two, by one, by one, he takes them out. Okay, good. “Oooff!”
He’s tackled from behind; a zombie Jambavan didn’t see was in the doorway leading into the smaller tower that runs alongside the South Tower. He drops the push dagger, and he almost lands face-first, but he gets a hand below him to break the fall.
The weight of the zombie crushes onto him, Jambavan’s arm is torqued, and he breaks his wrist.
He’s pinned on the ground. He tries to elbow the zombie on top of him in the side of the head, but he misses and just hits its massive shoulder. It pummels him with its fists. The first strike hits the clavicle—next to the shoulder of the arm with the broken wrist—and the bone snaps.
Jambavan cries out and tries to lift with his body, then roll to turn around and face the zombie, but it’s too heavy, and it’s squeezing him with its strong thighs. It lands another hit on the side of his head, and Jambavan is stunned.
When the zombie senses that its prey has been incapacitated, it releases its grip with its thighs and slides off. It grabs a hold of Jambavan’s upper arm on his non-injured side, and it partially lifts him up while it brings its mouth down to bite.
“Hey!”
The zombie turns, growling, and Skip removes a third of its face with the ceremonial mace. He swings again and crushes in its skull. It falls on top of Jambavan again, and the squire groans.
Skip takes a breath and tries to make his body stop shaking. He pulls the string and turns on the single bare bulb. The massive zombie is wearing skintight workout clothes—short-shorts and t-shirt. Skip pokes it to make sure it’s dead, then he pulls it off Jambavan. It flops over with a heavy -thud-.
Skip reads the shirt that is squeezed tight against bulged muscles.
He sees more lettering, but it’s bunched up in the shirt. He hears something, and he jolts back, holding the mace up to strike.
The sound is Jambavan groaning.
Skip rechecks that the room is still empty, then he drops down and carefully flips Jambavan over.
He opens his eyes. “Skip?”
“Yeah.”
“Thanks.”
“Sure. Can you walk?”
“Yeah.”
Skip helps him up, and then helps him back down the stairs to the room. Frank is there to receive him, and he has a drink bottle filled with blood ready for him.
Harold gasps and holds a hand over his mouth.
Skip looks at him, and then he realizes what Harold is looking at: the mace. Skip lifts it up. The globe is smashed in, and the bronze lion holding the stylized golden sun are both coated with blood. A piece of scalp is stuck in the lion’s mouth. Skip lowers the mace and holds his other hand up to Harold. “Hey.”
He looks at him with disbelief.
“It works pretty well. Hopefully, I won’t need to use it again.”
Li Chen and Steve rip up the bottom of Madeline’s pants, and she hopes they’re not enjoying it too much. She borrows Li Chen’s knife and cuts down her sleeve, only nicking her skin a little, so at least her arm will have a bit of color on it. The papercut-thin wound is healed within a few seconds, but now her arm is bloodied.
She hands the long knife back to him, handle first, like she learned in Sea Scouts. “Alright, do I look convincing enough?”
Li Chen takes the opportunity to really look at her body. “Spin? …Lift up your shirt? No? Okay.” He smiles.
“Nice try. Alright, I’ll check in, get some scrubs, and scope things out. Stay put until you hear from me.”
Steve shrugs. “Should we have a backup plan?”
Li Chen smiles at him. “There’s hope for you yet. Yeah, let’s say midnight—no, two am. If you don’t get anywhere by then, come back out. We’ll be here, by the bikes.”
“Okay. Hey, gimme a swig.”
Steve hands her a dark water bottle filled with blood.
She drinks some, then wipes her mouth on her torn open sleeve. “Thanks. Okay, see ya later.”
She walks out of the tree line and onto the neatly trimmed grounds of the hospital. She introduces a limp to her right leg, then she glances down to check which side of her pants is more ripped. Oh, the left... She switches the leg she favors, and she makes her way to the Emergency Room’s drop-off awning.
Inside, people are crying and running, and nobody pays any attention to her. She frowns, then really hams it up—clutching the back of chairs and struggling to walk. She collapses halfway to the check-in desk, grabbing loosely at someone as she falls.
The girl behind the desk rolls her eyes and pushes a button. In a few seconds, a nurse rushes over to Madeline. “Are you alright? How are you injured?”
“Ugh… These guys. I got away, but I think my ankle is broken.”
The nurse moves down to her leg and touches her foot. “Does this—”
“Ahh! That hurts. And my stomach... I don’t know what’s going on.”
The nurse stands and looks at the receptionist. “Call ortho and tell them we’ve got another one.”
“Wait!” Madeline extends her hand out to the nurse.
“What? We’ll get somebody here to take care of you as soon as we can. We—”
Madeline points at her face. “Look into my eyes, and promise me I’ll be okay.”
Oh... Nurse Jacqueline sighs. What a day. She turns to the receptionist. “Never mind calling, I’ll—”
Someone in the lobby vomits, and people around them recoil. Nurse Jacqueline sighs, then helps Madeline up as the girl at the check-in desk pops her gum and calls a janitor.
Madeline is escorted to the quarantine wing. While they walk, Madeline takes note of the path they’re taking and where the exits are. “I heard the elders are here. I have a friend... Might I be able to find them later?”
“I’m sure they’re very busy recovering, and you seem to require some of that yourself. Worry about your friend later.”
They make a turn down a hall and pass by guardsman Deina. She stops them and looks Madeline up and down. “What’s your name?”
Madeline swallows and uses her neighbor’s name. “Liza.”
“Liza what?”
“Marek. These guys attacked me—” She pulls out some tears by method acting up a memory of her grandmother.
Deina nods and waves them on.
Jacqueline pats Madeline on the back. “I’ll get you a room, and I’ll have someone up to set or reset the bone. We’ve got a lot going on today—there’s been a ton of car accidents. Be patient okay? You’ll be fine.”
Madeline wipes her eyes and sniffs. “Thank you. Take your time.”
The first thing Madeline does after being left in a hospital room is leave. She sneaks out and disappears down the hall. She listens to make sure that no one is around, and she tries various storage closets and rooms until she finds a stock room. In it are towels, hospital gowns, and various bedside hospitality items like toilet paper and facial tissues, but not what she’s looking for.
Damn. I need to find the ICU. If this is place is like mom’s hospital, the ICU will have extra scrubs.
She looks down at her torn-up clothing. I really liked these pants. She sighs, then she strips to her underwear and puts on a double set of gowns. One backward—so it closes in the front like a normal robe—and then another the way they’re intended, open at the back. She finds a box of garbage bags, pulls out a bag, and stuffs her clothes inside. I can wear scrubs when I find them, but I’ll hold on to my clothes until I find them, just in case.
As she approaches the door, she can hear someone in the hall, so she waits.
Outside, the person rounds a corner, and Madeline steps out of the stock room. Sheesh, this floor is cold!
Down the hall, another person approaches. Alright, play the sick girl and avoid eye contact. It works, and the doctor just walks past. So easy to get ignored. Now where’s that ICU?
As Charlie walks through the ER’s lobby, his nose is filled with notes of beer, nachos, stomach acid, and antibacterial cleanser. He holds his breath as he steps around a janitor mopping vomit, and he doesn’t breathe again until he’s outside. He walks into the shade of the ER’s awning with his battle-pack and Ketsueki Seishin, the sword made for him by Muramasa, and he looks around. There’s a muddy pickup truck pulled up ahead of him with its flashers on, but he doesn’t see Jules anywhere.
The truck lays on the horn, and Charlie spots Jules watching him in the rearview mirror.
He opens the passenger door and climbs inside. “I expected to see you in a fancy sedan, definitely not in a muddy old truck.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“That I did expect.” He sets his gear in the rear cab, and she takes off. He puts on his seatbelt. “So, where are we headed? I know you’ve got a plan.”
She nods. “Always. You mentioned a giant helicopter would be useful. It so happens I know of a man who can fly one.”
“Uh, and does he have one to fly?”
“Not exactly, but I imagine that you’ll be able to inspire him to take some drastic measures and steal one. He’s a Vietnam War veteran, and he works at the Udvar-Hazy Center.”
“And they have the helicopter? And he’ll help?”
She just drives.
“Alright, I’ll trust you on this.”
“As you should.”
Charlie turns in his seat and studies her. “As far as I can tell, you know everybody and what they had for breakfast. Why were you pretending to be the concierge at the hotel?”
She makes a sharp turn onto a multilane road, but the traffic is at a standstill. She checks her mirrors. “I wasn’t pretending.” She downshifts and steers up onto the curb that separates the left lane from the median. There are bushes and areas of manicured grass on the median, and although she can get farther ahead by spanning the curb, she steers into the median and lifts all four wheels off the road.
“Whoa.” Charlie holds the dash. “I think you and my wife would get along.”
Jules smiles. I know we would. “Ever ride in something with a turbo diesel?”
He shakes his head. “Apparently I’m about to.”
She floors it, and the truck plows through some bushes. A row of saplings sits ahead, and Charlie winces as the truck tears through them like they weren’t there. He glances in the mirror and groans at the sight of showering petals and splintered trunks. “I think those were dogwood.”
She shifts, picking up speed on an open area. “They’ll grow back.”
“So… What’s your deal, exactly? Maybe what I should be asking is this: why were you the concierge?”
“I was employed by Ms. Wollstone to assist the House of Elders during the meeting. Now that the engagement has concluded, and she obviously cannot give me further direction, I’m calling the job done.”
Charlie shakes his head. “Wait, you worked for Mary and not the House of Elders or the High Council?”
“That is correct. I’m a fixer, a damn good one.”
Charlie shrugs and shakes his head. They plow through some advertisements stuck into the ground with stakes, and although most are short and are knocked down, a few taller ones are torn upward and fly over the cab.
“Before you ask, Charlie, I cannot tell you any other details of her and my arrangement, but I will say that her disappearance and my connection to her is slightly troubling to me.”
He nods. “I see how you could be in on it... Which you’re saying you’re not. Correct?”
She glances at him. “Definitely not.”
“Can I ask where you’re headed to now?”
“After I introduce you to…Danny—yes, that’s his name—then I’ll be leaving the country.”
Charlie shakes his head. “I’ll be sad to see you go. I hear you’re a damned good fixer.”
She smiles. “Thanks.”
She maneuvers the pickup along side streets and their medians, along curbs, across parking lots, and for a few minutes, across a large park. When Charlie sees a sign for the Air and Space Museum Parkway, he frowns. “Museum? I know DC has a lot of museums, but we need an actual aircraft, you understand... Of course you do. I’m not sure why I’m doubting you.”
She smiles. “It’s because you’re nervous.” She turns onto the parkway, and for a change of pace, she stays on the road because it’s deserted. She steps on the gas, and the truck roars forward. Dirt flies from the rear tires, splattering the otherwise pristine pavement.
The road ends at a very large, very fancy building with a nearly empty parking lot. She drives to the far side of the lot, then enters a separate lot designed for busses. Instead of parking—or slowing down—she blasts over a curb, straight through a chain link fence, then she cross-countries it to the back of a hangar.
Charlie exhales. “I think they may notice that.”
“Not our concern, but that is.” She points to a police car with its lights firing up in the distance. “This is where we part ways, Charlie. Find Danny. Tell him Jules sent you.”
“Alright. Good
luck to you. Will you do me one more favor?”
She takes a fast turn and the tires screech. “This isn’t enough?”
“After I’m done in DC and the kids are safe, I’m going after Melgaard—he’s behind all of this. I don’t know where I’ll find him, or how, or when, but I will die before I give up hunting him. If you hear anything—”
“I’ve got your number. Now get out and don’t forget your gear.” She hits the brakes, and the truck skids to a halt behind an outlying building that momentarily hides them from the police car. She aims her chin at the building. “Hide here. I’m about to give this cop a chase they’ll never forget.”
Charlie grabs his battle-pack and sword, then he piles out. He doesn’t have a chance to shut his door, but he doesn’t need to either—Jules accelerates away from him so fast that the door shuts itself. She turns and rounds the building heading back the way she came, and the police car slips right into a tight pursuit. He watches as they tear away.
Jules checks her mirror. Ooohh, a Police Interceptor. Best case, it has three hundred and sixty-five horsepower and all-wheel drive... Let’s hope so, otherwise this’ll be too easy. She smiles as she hits a button on the stereo. “Battle Sirens” by Knife Party and Tom Morello slowly rises from the speakers.
Jules blasts back through the chain link fence and bounces as the truck reconnects with the pavement below the curb. The only thing that loosens is the hair in her bun. “Let’s do this.” She stomps on the gas, and the truck roars off. The Police Interceptor follows, only two seconds behind.
Charlie slips the katana through straps on his battle-pack, and he runs out from behind the small building he hid behind and over to the main building. There, a few people stand outside, watching the action. Someone notices Charlie and points. Charlie holds his hands up and runs straight over to the group before he drops them. “Hey, I need to find Danny. It’s an emergency.”
