The chatter of gunfire from the barricade increased. I could see the zombies now, dark shapes stumbling up the bridge. A zombie reared up, seemingly out of nowhere, and grabbed one of the soldiers trying to pull the harness up. His companion raised a pistol, but there was no way to get off a shot without hitting the soldier.
The soldier fell back against the side of the bridge. The zombie went for his throat, but he managed to twist free. He spun the zombie around and pushed it back, over the side of the bridge. The zombie fell, plummeting through the air toward us.
“Shit!” shouted Eduardo.
He twisted the steering wheel, but it was too late.
The zombie crashed onto the front of our boat with a wet thud. It bounced and disappeared into the water, leaving behind a dark stain and a few shreds of flesh.
Eduardo tried to turn the boat, but there was a heavy thunk as we hit the now partially submerged zombie. Eduardo cursed again and swung the boat around and beneath the bridge, out of the way of any more falling zombies.
Above us, the chatter of gunfire had slowed to an irregular pop. We cleared the bridge, and I looked back up. The woman in the harness was still fifteen or twenty feet from the bridge deck. She hung there, swinging helplessly, as above her, the soldiers fought the dead.
Chapter 10
Fitch
The battle on the bridge continued. One of the soldiers tried to pull the woman up while the other fired at the zombies. I could see them: dark shadows against the pale gray sky. The soldier’s shots were becoming more erratic. The dead were getting closer.
Another zombie, this one wearing a bright yellow safety vest, staggered toward the soldiers. Three gunshots rang out. The shots forced the zombie sideways. The soldier fired again. The zombie tumbled over the side of the bridge.
It fell in slow motion toward the water, clutching at the woman hanging from the bridge. One arm caught in her harness. The zombie jerked to a halt. One of its boots slipped off and fell, bouncing off the rocks at the base of the support.
The woman struggled with the zombie, forcing its head back, trying to get its open mouth away from her throat. It clawed at her. Its fingers caught in the straps of the harness.
The soldier grabbed the zombie’s arm and tried to unhook it, but the creature fought against her. The rope slipped. The two of them dropped a few feet before coming to a sudden, jarring halt. The woman kept trying to get something from her belt, a gun maybe. Every time she tried, the zombie attacked again and she was forced to go back to defending herself.
Above the struggling pair, the gunfire had stopped. The soldiers on the bridge looked down at their companion. One had his rifle trained on them. The gun’s barrel moved around, following their movements as he tried and failed to get a clear shot. The woman swung wildly as she fought the zombie. The soldier risked a shot anyway but it missed.
There was a scream. The zombie was still tangled in the woman’s harness but it had managed to fasten its jaws around her forearm. One of the soldiers on the bridge fell back, his hands clutching his head in horror.
Either the woman cut herself free or the harness broke because she was suddenly falling, the zombie still clamped onto her arm. They tumbled toward the rocks. The woman’s screams increased in pitch and volume until they slammed into the base of the support.
The thump of an explosion ripped through the air. Flames engulfed the base of the bridge. Chunks of rock and burning debris arced through the air and landed in the water with a hiss. Thick black smoke billowed upward. The stench of burning flesh rolled over us.
Fitch screamed and batted his arm where part of the burning debris had landed on it. A smoking chunk of something soft landed on the deck near him. He almost threw himself across the boat in his desperation to get away from it.
Mason stamped on it, extinguishing the flames. “Get a grip, Fitch!”
“Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” Fitch said, suddenly angry.
Captain Eduardo shot them a glance. “Calm down, both of you!”
Up on the bridge, the two soldiers had fallen back behind the barricade. They had their weapons resting on top of the container but weren’t firing. The rope still hung from the bridge, the tattered remains of the harness swinging gently in the breeze.
The boat was silent as Eduardo guided us across the inlet. He killed the engine, and the boat coasted into the marina.
Lambert was waiting for us on the dock. “What the hell happened out there?”
“Zees,” Eduardo said.
Lambert nodded as though that explained everything. It probably did in the new world. The dead had a way of creating new and exciting brands of chaos.
Mason, Ryan, and I climbed out of the boat and stood on the dock. Fitch was staring back at the bridge. The fire had almost burned itself out already. Just a few pockets of flame and the black smoke that hung in the air around the bridge remained.
Eduardo took a step toward Fitch. “Come on, get—”
Fitch leapt forward and shoved Eduardo, who stumbled backward, clutching at the side of the boat, his eyes wide with shock. His legs hit the railing. He toppled backward. He seemed to pause there, his arms windmilling as he tried to regain his balance, then momentum carried him over the side and into the water.
“What the hell!” Lambert said.
Fitch ran to the front of the boat. He rammed the throttle forward, and the engine screamed. Mason made a move to jump onto the boat but it was already pulling away.
The side of the boat scraped along the dock as it accelerated. Fitch spun the wheel, and the boat turned hard. The rear corner caught a metal post, grinding and screeching.
Mason ran to the edge of the dock and helped Eduardo out of the water.
Eduardo pushed Mason away and shouted at Lambert, “Stop him!”
Lambert raised his gun.
Ryan threw himself at Lambert, knocking the gun up just as he pulled the trigger. The bullet streaked over the boat.
Lambert clubbed Ryan with the butt of his rifle. He went down to his knees. Blood from a gash in his forehead spattered the concrete.
Fitch turned the boat again, misjudging the maneuver and almost sending the boat back into the dock before he managed to get it heading straight out into the water. The boat bounced over the waves, sending plumes of white spray into the air.
Lambert raised his rifle again. He tracked the boat for a few seconds then fired. The boat was moving too erratically. He missed.
Cursing, he unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt. He twisted a dial on the top then said, “Bridge One, this is Marina Watch. We have a lone fugitive in a stolen boat heading east from our location.”
There was a pause, then a voice replied. “Got him, Marina Watch. Leave the bastard to us.”
“Let him go,” Ryan said, still kneeling on the ground.
Lambert lifted his gun as though he was going to club Ryan again. “Shut up or so help me God…”
Ryan ducked and pulled away.
Soldiers moved up on the bridge. One of them had a rifle propped on the railing.
Fitch had gotten the hang of piloting the boat and was making good progress but not good enough. Gunfire cracked. Fitch ducked and looked over his shoulder. Another shot rang out. His head snapped forward. He slumped to the deck. The boat curved left, heading toward the marina on the opposite side of the inlet. It collided with another boat, bounced off yet another, then ground to a halt in a cacophony of tearing metal, wedged between two sailboats. Smoke rose up from its engine.
“Dammit!” Eduardo said. I couldn’t tell whether he was most upset about the damage to the boat or Fitch’s execution.
Ryan sat on the floor, one hand pressed against his bloody head, a shocked expression on his face.
The voice on the walkie-talkie returned. “Anything else we can help you with?”
Lambert gave a short laugh. “How about filling Faraday in on what just happened?”
“I’m sorry? I didn’t get that, you’re breaking up
.”
Lambert smiled grimly. “Yeah, yeah.”
He clipped the walkie-talkie back onto his belt. The smile vanished.
Eduardo cursed. He was looking out across the inlet at the boat. Its engine stuttered and popped then fell silent.
“I’ll send someone down to help with the retrieval,” Lambert said.
Eduardo thanked him without taking his eyes off the stranded boat.
Lambert sighed. “You’d better get going, Mason.”
Mason grunted and set off down the dock. Ryan struggled to his feet. I took one last look at the bridge then followed Mason ashore.
Chapter 11
Guardian Angel
The atmosphere in the van was bleak. Ryan lay on one bench, a handkerchief pressed against the cut on his head. It wasn’t life threatening, but it was still bleeding and a lump was already forming. Mason had warned Ryan not to go to sleep and was watching him closely.
I sat at the opposite end of the van, Lambert’s words running through my mind. “We have a lone fugitive…”
Fugitive.
An interesting choice of words. The thought that I’d found myself inside a prison camp reared its head again. Workgroups. Guards. Executions. Fugitives. Prison was the only word to describe it. And not a normal prison. Faraday’s work camp was the sort of prison you saw in dystopian movies: a brutal dictatorship devoid of hope.
I’d come to the city to find my scalpels but ended up trapped. I doubted I’d convince Faraday to let me leave to look for my family. Lucy had told him about me, and he was already wary. Exactly what she’d said, I didn’t know, but it probably meant he had at least a vague understanding of what I was. The question was, what would he do with that information?
Even if I got out of the camp and found my toolkit, how would I get away from the city? I had thought the boats might be an option, but after this morning’s demonstration, that seemed unlikely. Unless I could find another marina, I’d have to pass three bridges to get away. The chances of doing that without one of the snipers taking me down were slim at best.
I rubbed my face, frustrated.
Jefferson might be the key. He’d been sympathetic, even to Fitch. Approaching him would be a risk, though. I could just be digging myself a deeper hole.
The van rolled to a halt, brakes squeaking. We sat in the van for a couple of minutes. The air was dense, stale. Ryan looked pale although the cut had stopped bleeding. Jefferson swung open the van doors and gray light filled the van.
His face was grim. “I heard about Fitch. Everyone else okay?”
We murmured our assent and climbed out of the van.
When it was his turn, Ryan stumbled and almost fell. Only Jefferson’s quick thinking prevented him from diving face first into the concrete. Ryan thanked Jefferson then dusted off his jeans. I saw him looking around the camp, probably searching for Sara. There was no sign of her.
I knew Faraday was coming before I saw him. Mason and Ryan tensed, although for different reasons. The soldier at the entrance stood a little straighter. Only Jefferson seemed unperturbed by the captain’s approach. Presumably, his position offered him some degree of protection from Faraday’s temperament.
Faraday’s fists were clenched, his eyes filled with rage. The only thing missing from the scene was the thundercloud floating above his head, ready to unleash a bolt of lightning to dispatch anyone who displeased him.
When he reached the van, he stared at each of us in turn without speaking.
Ryan held Faraday’s gaze but didn’t say anything. He was the mirror image of the captain—fists clenched, lips pressed tight. The only difference was the rage in Ryan’s eyes. Somehow it was more potent than Faraday’s—deeper and more dangerous.
Faraday seemed to linger on me for what felt like an age. I too refused to look away. I expected him to challenge me, maybe even use this moment to make it clear he knew my history, but he didn’t.
Eventually, he moved on to Mason and finally spoke. “What happened with Fitch?”
“He was afraid.”
“Of the zombies?”
“Of them getting into the city. A group of them almost made it across the bridge and it spooked him.”
Faraday nodded slowly. “And?”
“And… he saw a chance. He stole a boat. The snipers on the bridge dealt with it.”
Faraday tilted his head toward Ryan and me. “What about those two? They help him?”
“No,” Mason said. “He was acting alone. Fitch… wasn’t a popular person.”
Faraday looked back across the camp. Two figures, one a female soldier, the other a worker in blue overalls, were making their way toward us. He watched them for a few seconds then turned his attention to me.
I tried to look as nonthreatening as possible, but I could feel his dislike of me radiating off him. There was more to it than just his anger. Something that I’d done had rankled him. Or something Lucy had said.
“What did you think of Fitch?” Faraday said.
The question caught me by surprise, but I answered truthfully. “He was a coward.”
Faraday snorted. “So, we’re better off without him.”
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
Without taking his eyes off me, he said, “What about you, Jones. You think he was a coward?”
Ryan hesitated before he replied. “I think everyone’s under a lot of stress.”
Faraday’s anger returned for a fraction of second then was gone again. He turned on his heels and strode over to Jefferson. “I want all three of these men back out there in an hour, understood.”
“Yes, captain, but…” Jefferson hesitated, seemingly unsure of himself. “Black isn’t eligible to work in the camp anymore.”
Faraday frowned. “What?”
“The papers came through a couple hours ago.”
Faraday darted his hand out. “Let me see.”
Jefferson went into the hut and retrieved a sheet of paper. He handed it to Faraday, who stared at it, his frown deepening with every second.
Ryan looked at me, questioningly. I shrugged. I had no idea what was going on.
Faraday waved the paper in my face. “What do you know about this?”
“Nothing,” I said. “I’m not even sure what it is.”
The captain checked the paper again. I caught Jefferson’s eye, and he gave me a subtle nod. Was he trying to reassure me?
Faraday gave the paper back to Jefferson, almost crushing it in the process.
He glared at me. I kept my mouth closed.
Ryan pushed past me. “Sara?”
The two women had reached us, and Ryan was right, the woman in the overalls was Sara. There were dark smudges beneath her eyes. Her hair was cut short, revealing bruises on either side of her neck. Her lower lip seemed puffy and there was a split in the middle.
Ryan’s voice rose. “What happened to you?”
He moved toward Sara, but the soldier with her, Kelley according to the name on her uniform, blocked him.
He tried to get past her. “I’m going to help my fiancée.”
Kelley pushed him back. As he moved toward Sara again, Kelley raised the barrel of her rifle. She didn’t point it directly at him, but the threat was clear.
Ryan turned on Faraday. “What did you do to her? Tell me or I’ll—”
He didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence. Faraday punched him in the gut. For the second time that day, Ryan was kneeling on the ground. He clutched his stomach, gasping for breath.
Faraday ignored him and walked over to Sara. He placed his hand beneath her chin and raised her head. Her eyes flicked to Ryan.
“Tut, tut,” Faraday said. “Look at me.”
Sara swallowed and did as she was told.
Faraday’s mouth turned up into a smile that barely touched the rest of his face. “Thank you. Now, I thought we had an agreement. Do we have an agreement, Sara?”
After the briefest of pauses, Sara gave two quick nods. She was blinking away
tears.
“Good.”
Faraday held her gaze for several seconds.
She fought the urge to look at Ryan, who was still kneeling, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Eventually Faraday turned back to Jefferson. He pointed at me. “See he leaves the compound. If he comes back, shoot him.”
“Yes, Captain,” Jefferson said.
Faraday walked past Sara and Kelley. He didn’t speak, but Sara immediately followed him, her head bowed. Kelley let them get a few paces ahead, then followed them too.
Ryan struggled to his feet. He’d grazed his knuckles on the concrete, and they were smeared with blood. He started to go after Sara.
Jefferson grabbed his shoulder. “There’s nothing you can do.”
Ryan tried to twist free, but Jefferson held tight.
“He’s right,” Mason said. “At best, you’ll make it worse for her. More likely, you’ll get shot.”
Ryan spun and charged toward Mason. “How can you just stand by and let him do this?” His fists were clenched. He raised his hand as though he was going to punch Mason.
Jefferson grabbed Ryan’s wrist and pulled it down before he could. “Easy there, man.” He glanced after Faraday. “I might be able to help you, but antagonizing the captain isn’t going to get her back.”
Ryan glared at Mason, then at Jefferson. The soldier in the hut had come to the doorway, his hand close to his gun.
The tension in Ryan’s body slipped away.
He jerked his wrist free of Jefferson’s grip, gave him a dismissive look, then turned and stalked toward the bunkhouse.
“Where are you going?” Mason said.
“To get some rest.”
Mason sighed then followed after Ryan.
Jefferson watched them until they went inside, then he said, “Looks like you’ve got a guardian angel.”
I still had no idea what was going on. “What do you mean?”
“Someone got you a pass for the city. You can go anywhere you want, do anything you want. Apart from come here, of course.”
Serial Killer Z: Shadows Page 7
