by Suzanne Robb
Landers threw down his weapon and pulled out a small double barrel Glock. Rogers had a quicker trigger finger and blew a hole through Landers’s torso. Janelle screamed as a thick sticky substance coated them. Dale didn’t need light or night glasses to know it was bright red.
“Now, Mr. Allgood, about that promotion, I was thinking something with a bit more kick to it.”
“Whatever you want, let’s just get off the street and to the damn Old House before we’re attacked.”
“A reinforcement team will be here in less than ten minutes, they were held up at the studio.”
Dale followed behind, he thought back to his miraculous rescue. No one questioned the older man or tried to stop him. Maybe following this guy was a mistake, but he knew how to handle problems, and at the moment everything was a problem. Rogers could be taken care of later, along with the men supporting him. Turns out Dale was not the only one aiming for a takeover, but he would be the only one who succeeded.
Janelle brushed up beside him and whispered so only he could hear, “Be careful, this guy’s a lot smarter than you think.”
Chapter Twenty-one—
Ally glanced up to see several rough looking men, a mix of old and new weapons pointed at her and Richards.
“My name’s Ally, I’m looking for information. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“Too late for that, missy.”
“Please, this is important.”
“Either one of you bit? If you’re bit we’ll put you down. Quick and painless.”
Before Ally had a chance to answer, she and Richards were pulled forward past the barricade and into a room with power. In the corner a cargo elevator was held open by a lone man. When he saw them coming he moved aside. Ally felt a surge of fear wrap around her. Who were these guys? Where were they taking her? Why was Richards so damn quiet? He was the last person on Earth she expected to take orders and not sass back.
With a bounce the elevator stopped, when it opened a huge room with satellite imagery, active tracking systems—though she had no idea what they were following—and several dozen soldiers was revealed to her.
She felt hands roam up and down her body, then the powder she’d used before poured over her. Shutting her eyes to prevent the sting and holding her breath, she tuned it out. The rumors her grandfather shared with her were true. Not only that, but she choked up when she saw a threadbare flag hanging in the corner. The edges were worn and a few spots had char marks, but it was without a doubt the symbol of the United States.
“Okay, you both seem clean. Ally Lane, we know who you are. You can stay, your friend here, we don’t associate with the likes of him. He needs to go.”
Ally shook herself out of her stupor and tore her eyes away from something she thought long destroyed. The men and women in the room wore faded fatigues and bulletproof vests. She soaked up as many details as possible, trying to determine who they were. A pin of a golden eagle sat on the upper right chest of each one. The image a distant memory.
One of the men pushed Richards against a wall. They pulled something out of their pocket and attached it to the side of his head. From what she could tell it looked like a rudimentary recording device. An item used over fifty years ago when the firms wanted to spy on their people. This was, of course, before they hacked straight into the signal and used implants.
Richards rolled his eyes, but let them do it. He didn’t move a muscle. The fist that shot out and broke his nose was a shock and he struggled out of instinct to protect himself. She ran over to intervene.
“He’s not here to cause problems. I need him to figure a few things out. I’m not sure if you’re aware of everything that’s going on, but we have a major outbreak going on, which is covering someone’s ascension to power.”
“Yes, we know all about that. They’re taking an awkward route to the Old House, and each have a small army. All of them are out to screw one another, messages being sent and received, ask your friend.”
Ally turned to face Richards. She expected him to look away in shame, but he stood fast and stared her in the eyes.
“Yeah, I’ve been sending messages—”
Ally lunged for him and smacked him across the jaw. One of the men held her back.
“Hold on, let him finish. Information is power, you should know that. Better we find out who he’s been spilling his guts to before we kill the bastard.” The venom in the man’s voice was unmistakable.
Ally shook herself free from the tight grip on her. His face was pale and leathery with age. A scar ran along his neck up to his temple, a burn of some kind. When she looked into his eyes she felt something, but it was unfamiliar. The tag on his uniform read James, not a name she recognized.
“I am talking to someone, but it’s not what you think,” Richards said.
“It never is, and to think I was starting to trust you,” Ally spat.
“If you would stop being so pig headed and arrogant you might realize I have valuable information.”
“Fine, spit it out before I let these guys do whatever they want to you.”
“My niece Janelle is with Allgood. She was in Chicago when he made his big speech. She’s always wanted to join the militia but I refused, her parents would have kicked my ass. So, she followed him and the next thing I know she sent me a message saying she was his new traveling partner. He’d taken a shine to her if you know what I mean.”
Ally took a few steps then spun in her heel. “Niece? You don’t have any family, you’re full of it.”
“Kiddo, you’re not the only one who knows how to change your name. I trained people, but before I did I took every precaution so my family wouldn’t get strung up on treason charges. I cut all ties, but Janelle found out and tracked me down.”
“So, you have someone with Allgood, what information has she provided? His favorite position? Wait, maybe he likes to snuggle. All vital things to the mission.”
Richards struck out so fast Ally missed it. She wouldn’t have known he hit her if it weren’t for the blood flowing from a split lip.
“You don’t know her, shut the hell up. She’s risking her life to keep me updated on what’s going on. I didn’t tell you because I figured you’d think I was lying.”
“Got that right.”
“Okay, let’s find out if he has information. Ally, calm down, and go sit over there,” said the man with the James name tag.
Ally fumed, but did as she was told. Richards lied to her again, held back information, and now some guy she didn’t know was ordering her around.
“They went to a studio and it was overrun by zombies, a horde of them—unstoppable. Someone came to the rescue with a prototype weapon, the rest are in a case travelling with Allgood’s caravan. As of her last message Allgood said they needed to get to the Old House. The thing is, I have no idea who the guy is who helped them.”
“When was that?” Ally asked.
“A few hours ago. By now they’re at the location.”
James cleared his throat. “He’s right, they arrived a few minutes ago, our sensors picked them up. They’ll be in the building in about fifteen minutes depending how good they are with a gun and how many of those rotten creeps are out there.”
Ally walked to one of the tables with maps spread out on it. Shoving a few of the men out of her way she rifled through them to find one that would help.
Richards moved away from the wall keeping an eye on the others. He stood next to Ally and spoke in a low voice. “What are you looking for? I thought you said it was important we come here first. Now you’re looking at maps of something else?”
Ally didn’t know what to think. Her grandfather had been right. There were people who lived here, but the technology they used confused her. It was outdated, unreliable, new, and improved. Sensors could be manipulated, not to mention they let zombies roam the hallways of their compound. Nothing added up, everything was too convenient.
“Take a walk with me?” James asked.
<
br /> Ally followed behind with Richards beside her. A familiar scent wafted her way from the older man. He moved with purpose, a man with a mission. After fifty feet they exited the narrow hallway and entered an arena-sized space. Thousands of people gathered in small groups.
Grabbing James’s arm Ally asked, “What’s going on?”
“These are the survivors we’ve been able to save so far. As soon as word of the outbreak made it to us we gathered as many people as we could. So far over 7,000 souls live here.”
“But how do you look after them? Feed them? What the hell is this place?”
“We’re in a shelter built in case of ‘emergency evacuation without notice’ as it was called back then. Over the years we expanded it, learned how to make the best of what we have. As to how we take care of them, we’re trying our best, but supplies are running out.”
Ally saw a small girl with blue eyes and dirty blond curls. In her hands a rag doll missing an eye, the other holding on by a thread. Families, these were all families. And they had nowhere to go unless Ally and these men and women soldiers found a way to kill the zombies and ensure their safety.
Turning away from the looks of desperation and despair being thrown her way she caught James staring at her.
“What?”
He smiled, the scar preventing a full grin. “Nothing, squirt, you just remind me of someone. Let’s go.”
Coherent thought left her head. No one called her by that nickname since she was a kid. He couldn’t be him, could he?
James led them back to the main room after grabbing a few items from a table. Ally watched him, were these people really the descendants of the guards of the Great Defense? And if so, what purpose did they serve? Why stay here? How did they live? A new piece of the puzzle that didn’t quite fit.
She glanced around the room taking in the large screens with blinking lights, red dots, and green areas. What were they? Did the folks in this room know what she did? They had to. The real question was how did her grandfather know about them?
Ignoring Richards she went back to the maps: underground tunnels and sewage systems. Somewhere in the web of pathways she would find what she needed.
* * *
Joseph watched his men work in a consistent and reliable manner. They cleared a path for him to follow, and found a defensible area to take out the fast approaching horde of zombies. He sat back to watch the show.
Trevor claimed point with Hank on the left and a soldier named Mills on the right. They took their time to aim and made every shot count. From where they were he knew the office was not far away, but something else caught his attention. Muzzle flashes from inside the building, someone had beaten him here.
“Trevor, change of plan, we need to get in the building now and take out some uninvited guests.”
Trevor fired a shot, blowing the head of one of the creatures into a million pieces then used his glasses to examine the inside of the structure.
“Sir, from the looks of it, seems Allgood is in there, but his team is encountering what must be zombies since they don’t show up as more than shadows, and there’s a lot of them.”
“I don’t give a damn who it is, get us in there. Now!”
Trevor keyed in a few commands and some additional soldiers came from the rear. Then three more—Burroughs, Callen, and Maynard—jogged forward and lined up in front of him.
“Sir, these are three of the best men we have, we’ll take them with us. The smaller we keep the group the better.”
Trevor motioned with his hand and the group moved forward. Callen and Maynard took front positions, Trevor and Hank flanked Joseph who stayed in the middle, Burroughs took up the rear. As they progressed forward Joseph realized their short trip might take longer than expected. When they rounded a corner they encountered a group of zombies eating what must have been Allgood’s back-up.
Callen and Maynard raised their fists and the group stopped in their tracks. Joseph noted there were at least three dozen of the damn things dead ahead and even if some were distracted by the fresh blood the minute they spotted him or one of his crew it was over.
The sound of flesh stretching and tearing as hungry teeth tore into bodies made his stomach jump. A few tore the heads off of their victims and smashed them against the ground until the skull shattered and they could reach inside and scoop out uninfected grey matter.
“Trevor, what’s the plan?” Joseph tried to sound calm, even though every instinct in him told him to turn around and hide.
Trevor didn’t spare him a glance, his eyes zeroed in the carnage. Joseph could see him taking in the scene and calculating something, trying to find a way.
“We can double back, try a different way in. We can wait until they finish and hope they move in a different direction. Or we can move forward, make a run for the building and create a barricade. Either way we need to do something, we already know these bastards can think.”
Burroughs spoke up, “But sir, that would prevent the others from entering.”
“They’re already dead,” Trevor said, his face showing no emotion.
Joseph thought about that, for almost ten minutes he’d heard the constant stream of weapons fire behind them, but now it was eerily silent. He chanced a glance over his shoulder and caught a few zombies lumbering over what they thought was a safe and defensible position.
“Well, move forward then. It’s obvious these things outnumber us. We need to get inside the building now.”
“Then run, soldiers, lay down protective fire. As soon as we enter the main structure Callen and Maynard check for other points of entry. Hank, Burroughs, and Mills you help me block the pathway in.”
There was no warning, just the pounding of feet and someone hauling Joseph along. He regretted wearing his fancy shoes because they lacked traction and he slipped and slid everywhere on the rocky terrain. At one point, if not for Trevor he would have fallen straight down into an endless abyss, a bombed out pit no doubt from the war for control.
A scream from behind caused Trevor to stop and turn, the result was Joseph falling to the ground seconds before a zombie launched itself at his throat. The thing snarled and snaked a hand around Joseph’s neck. He felt himself being pulled in closer and then a warm spray of something thick and rotten-smelling coated his face.
Trevor fired three more shots and took down another one of the creatures. An arm landed a few inches in front of Joseph and he tried not to scream when he saw the ooze leaking out of it and heading toward him.
Everything he’d read in the reports didn’t come close to describing the scene in front of him. Trevor yanked him to his feet, and once again they were hoofing for the old building. The end was in sight.
Callen went down with no warning. Without a scream. Burroughs fired on something and stopped. Joseph pulled up short of knocking the man down, or rather into another damn pit. This one much shallower and at the bottom the broken body of Callen could be seen, as well as several emaciated zombies gorging on bits and pieces of him.
Arms and legs were torn from their sockets with popping and slurping sounds, entrails spread across a large area. Leaning to his side Joseph lost his meager dinner.
“We don’t have time for this, we need to keep moving,” Trevor said.
Joseph glanced around. “Where’s Hank?”
As if on cue, Hank appeared from behind a pile of rubble in front of them. He was out of breath and covered in blood, but waved them forward. When they reached his location, taking special care around the crumbling edge of the crate, he pointed to a broken window.
“I scouted it out,. If we can get in there creating the barricade will be a lot easier since they won’t see our point of entry. Using the glasses I saw bodies on the floor, most likely Allgood’s men, dead. Chances are they’ll change soon. We need to go.”
Trevor grabbed him by the collar and pulled Hank up so high he balanced on his tiptoes. “You disobeyed an order. You left our rear vulnerable and as a result we almost
lost Erdman. Give me one reason not to kill you right now.”
Hank smiled. “You need me.”
Trevor pushed him away in disgust and scanned the room before climbing in the window. Gunfire echoed from all directions, Trevor moved what was left of his crew to the left. Everyone, save Joseph, pulled whatever they could to block the front and back entrance. Broken columns, rotten wood, charred chunks of God knew what.
“It’s the best we can do. Now we move forward and take Allgood out.” Trevor smiled.
Joseph didn’t know what was scarier, his new protector or the zombies.
* * *
Dale crapped his pants twice since they trekked into the building. The first time was when they hit what might have once been the front lawn. Mammoth pieces of cement, rebar sticking up out of the ground and cutting their legs as they ran by, burned out tanks and other military vehicles, and a couple of crashed helicopters. All the while avoiding giant holes and the occasional zombie.
Every time they thought they had the debris maze figured out, something popped out at them, Dale would scream, and Rogers or Janelle would come to the rescue. They took his gun away when he fired straight into the air letting every nasty thing alive and dead know where they were.
The second time was when they reached their destination and entered the building. He jumped through a doorway to hide in what he assumed would be an empty room and found himself straddled by a zombie. Shoulders pinned down by skeletal hands. His face mere inches from a jaw no longer covered in flesh, but containing enough putrefied muscle to snap its teeth at him while a black tongue rolled side to side.
He shut his eyes hoping his screams would be answered and cringed when something damp and spongy hit his face. A loud thud a second before the weight was removed. He cracked an eye open to see an annoyed Janelle staring at him. Dale checked himself over to make sure there were no bites and brought a tongue up to his face. He tossed it to the side in disgust and pulled himself to his feet. Dale’s relief was short lived. Rogers paced the room they were in talking to himself. Janelle sat next to him, a worried expression on her face.
