Machines of the Dead

by David Bernstein

  “You need me alive,” Reynolds said, “or they’ll cut you two to shreds.”

  “Don’t we know it,” Zaun said. “That’s why you’re coming with us.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “To the escape tunnel; to freedom, and away from you,” Jack said.

  Reynolds started laughing. “Leaving here isn’t going to happen, Jack. And it’d be a big mistake to do so.”

  “Jack,” Zaun fumed, “this guy’s really pissing me off. Can we please get the hell out of here?”

  Jack told Reynolds to turn around and place his hands behind his back. Zaun handed him a zip-tie and Jack slid the plastic cuff over the doctor’s wrists, securing them tightly.

  “Fuck me,” Zaun said, as he headed over to Reynolds’ hideout. “Piece-of-shit had my sword.”

  “A fine piece of craftsmanship,” Reynolds told him.

  “We can add thief to all the other things you are.” Zaun picked up his baby. He checked the blade. Appearing satisfied, he sheathed it, then tucked it between his hip and belt. Using the small pieces of fabric attached to the sheath, he tied the weapon in place. “I would’ve been uber pissed if we got to the armory and it wasn’t there. You’re a lucky son of a bitch, Doc.”

  Jack was beginning to wonder if his friend, who had always been a bit ‘odd,’ had gone a little off the deep end. Zaun had spent a lot of time alone in his apartment. He guessed the guy was as frightened and nervous as he was, trying his best not to flip out.

  They exited the room and were heading down the hall, on their way to the weapons store, when Jack saw a group of guards heading their way. Kevin and Guard Lopez at the front, machine guns pointed at their backs.

  “Tell your men to put down their weapons,” Jack ordered Reynolds, “and release Meyers and Lopez.”

  “Jack,” Reynolds responded. “Before you go down this path, and I see you’ve gotten others to join you, think about what you are doing.”

  “I have,” he said, pressing the .44’s barrel to the back of Reynolds’ skull. “Now tell them.”

  When Reynolds said nothing, Jack cracked the man in the side of his head with the gun—Reynolds’ crying out—then returned the weapon to the back of the man’s head. “Call. Them. Off.”

  “You’re going to regret this, Jack.”

  Zaun stepped forward, steak knife in hand, and put the blade’s tip just under Reynolds’ right eye. The man winced. “We don’t have to kill you. We can maim you, keeping you alive just enough to get what we want.”

  The guards were just down the hall. Their weapons remained pointed at both Kevin and Lopez, whose faces were bloodied and bruised. Jack thought it lucky they were still alive, and probably the only reason being was that the doc needed subjects.

  “Last time I’m going to ask,” Jack said, “and then my friend pokes out an eye.”

  Jack wanted Zaun behind him, in case one of the guards thought he could get off a shot, but liked them seeing Reynolds surrounded by gun and bladed implement.

  “Lower your weapons,” Reynolds finally said.

  The guards remained as they were for a moment, until the one behind Lopez shoved her forward. He placed his sidearm against her head. “Lower your weapons and release the doctor. You have until the count of three, or she dies.”

  Zaun turned, and threw the knife at the guard, hitting the man in his throat.

  The man dropped his gun and stumbled backward, holding his throat, complete and utter shock on his face. One of the other guards went to help him, but Reynolds spoke up.

  “Leave him; he’s already dead.”

  Everyone watched as the guard pulled the knife from his neck, then fell to the floor, blood continuing to gush, leaving streaks and puddles everywhere. Desperation filled the man’s face as he tried crawling forward, his doom imminent.

  Jack pointed the .44 at the man and put a bullet into his head, the guard’s body going limp.

  The others appeared stunned, staring at their dead comrade as blood pooled around him.

  Jack returned his gun to Reynolds’ head, his hand shaking slightly.

  The guards’ demeanor began to change, from astonishment to anger.

  “Get behind me,” he whispered to Zaun, and his friend did, readying his M4.

  The guards looked enraged. Behind the muzzles of their guns, Jack could see the hate in their eyes.

  “Drop your weapons,” Reynolds said, his voice taking on a heavy, authoritative tone. “The man is dead because he didn’t obey a direct order.”

  Jack began to worry the others wouldn’t either; that they’d seen one of their own killed, and would want revenge, but his worries were squashed as the men laid down their arms.

  “Kevin,” Jack asked, “you guys all right?” The kid nodded. “We’re a little banged up is all.”

  “Fucking traitors,” one of the guards said.

  “Tell your men to back away,” Jack demanded, fearing that not all was okay yet.

  Reynolds complied, ordering his men back.

  “Grab the weapons and a radio, then get over here,” Jack said.

  When Kevin and Lopez were out of harm’s way, Jack had Reynolds make an announcement over the walkie. The man ordered his staff to stand down and to let Jack and the others pass without hindrance. If they complied, no harm would befall him.

  The guards were cuffed, using their own zip-ties, and shoved into a room where they were ordered by Reynolds to remain until told otherwise. Jack didn’t imagine the guards staying tied up for long, but anything to slow them down and keep them from causing trouble was a good thing.

  When all was said and done, Jack and the others had quite a little arsenal: two more M4 machine guns with an extra magazine each; two more 9mm Glock 21’s with an extra clip each; and three Tasers.

  Jack took out the Glock he’d taken from Reynolds and popped in a fresh clip, the old one feeling rather light. Now he had the .44 magnum, the Glock 9mm, which he returned to his waist, and a Taser. Zaun had his sword, a Glock, and a machine gun. Kevin took one of the machine guns, an extra magazine and one of the Glocks. Lopez, who said to call her Maria, had a machine gun, a sidearm, a Taser, and a few extra clips for the guns.

  The group moved easily down the halls, using the stairs, not wanting to take the chance of getting trapped in the elevator. For all Jack knew, the thing had security features, like a sleeping agent that could be released when undesirables were inside.

  Just outside Reynolds’ office was the weapons store and down the hall from that was C-Wing. If the weapons store hadn’t been on the way, Jack thought they might’ve skipped it entirely, especially with them being so well-armed now. But since it was on the way, why not check it out, and at least stock up, leaving less for Reynolds’ men.

  Using Reynolds’ keycard—Chambers’ in his pocket—Jack unlocked the arsenal. The room wasn’t very wide, and was as deep as an oversized walk-in closet. He kept an eye on Reynolds and the hallway while the others went in and further armed themselves.

  Zaun came out quickly, holding Jack’s shotgun and ammo belt, still filled with shells. “Thought you might want these back,” he said. Jack took the gun, admired it for a moment, then shouldered the weapon. “And these,” Zaun continued, producing and proffering to Jack the Sig Sauer and his .45 caliber Smith and Wesson. Jack smiled as he took the guns. Both were loaded.

  “Rifle’s in there too,” Zaun told him, “if you want it.”

  Zaun took over watch of Reynolds and the hallway as Jack entered the room, Kevin and Maria passing him by on their way out.

  Jack looked around the armory. Ten M4 machine guns rested against the wall on his right; crates of magazines below. On the far wall were eight Glock 21’s. Boxes of varying ammo filled the shelves on the left, along with Tasers and Taser re-loads, gas masks, flash-bang grenades, mini attachable gun lights, and flashlights. He grabbed a couple of clips for the Glock, found a box of .45 shells, took two flash-bang grenades and headed out.

  Jack as
ked if everyone was good before closing the weapons room door. Everyone had taken a couple flash-bang grenades, Maria explaining how to use them, informing Jack and Zaun that they were designed to disorient a person, everything from temporary blindness to hearing loss. When used, it was a good idea to close one’s eyes and cover one’s ears.

  “Does anyone else have access to this room?” Jack asked.

  “I know the Doc and Chambers did. Not sure about any others,” Maria answered.

  “Me either,” Kevin echoed.

  “Well?” Jack asked Reynolds.

  “Only two others have access cards to the arsenal.”

  “Doesn’t matter; as long as we have this asshole,” Zaun said, nudging Reynolds, “we’ll be fine.”

  Chapter 18

  Just down the hall was C-wing. Using the keycard, Jack opened the security door. He kept the .44 magnum at Reynolds’ head.

  Two guards, both holding M4’s stood before the group.

  “Drop the weapons and stand back,” Jack demanded.

  “Do as he says, gentlemen,” Reynolds ordered. “They’ll be leaving us real soon.”

  Faces like carved granite, the guards laid down their weapons and stood to the side.

  Maria removed the magazines and clips from the guns. The two guards were ushered into a nearby office where their own zip ties were used to subdue them.

  Moving down the hall, there was a windowed laboratory on the left. Three scientists surrounded a zombie lying on a steel table. Jack thought the place looked exactly like the operating room in a hospital. The men were so absorbed in what they were doing that Jack didn’t think they even noticed him or the others.

  “You’re a sick bastard, you know that?” Zaun said to Reynolds. He walked up to the door and kicked it open. The scientists jumped, startled by the abrupt intrusion.

  “You better stop your man from doing anything stupid,” Reynolds warned.

  “Zaun,” Jack yelled. “Stop. Let the men work.”

  Zaun spun around, his eyes slits. “What?”

  “Listen to your friend,” Reynolds said, talking to Zaun. “He understands.”

  Zaun came from the doorway, gun out and pointed at Reynolds’ head. “One more word out of you and screw the consequences, you’re dead.”

  “Zaun,” Jack said. “He’s right. Whoever’s on that table is dead. There’s no helping him anymore. We need to help the survivors. And as much as I’d like to blow this place sky-high, the work here is essential. Reynolds’ people are the only ones who might be able to stop all this.”

  Zaun continued to stare at Reynolds, his cheek muscles flexing as he clenched his jaw.

  Jack didn’t like leaving things as they were. He wasn’t sure he was doing the right thing by allowing the experimentations to continue, but to him at least, Reynolds and his team were necessary evils. He knew the man wanted to get control over the situation. No scientist wanted to be a failure.

  Seeing his friend still fuming, Jack reminded Zaun that they were there for the survivors. The dead weren’t going to get any better.

  “For the record,” Zaun spat. “This sucks.”

  “I’m with you,” Maria said, “but Jack’s right. As much as I hate what this man’s done, he’s needed.” Stepping up to Reynolds, she added, “But don’t think for one second you’re getting away with any of this. I’m going to report you; see to it you’re brought up on humanitarian charges, treason, espionage, and whatever else I can come up with.”

  “Amen to that,” Zaun said. He sighed. “Fine, I’m with you all, but if he gets out of line I’m going to pound on his face a little.”

  “Agreed,” Jack said. Then to Reynolds, “You hear that, asshole? You’ve got something to live for, to finish your work. So don’t try anything stupid, and as soon as we’re out of here, we’ll let you get back to it.”

  The group continued down C-wing, passing by other labs and offices and a few of what appeared to be operating rooms. A number of undead were being poked and prodded, electrocuted, cut up, and whatnot. Jack felt sick at seeing the carnage, but also at seeing the glee and seriousness on the scientists’ faces. He began to shake with anger. Needing to burst, he did the next best thing. Spinning Reynolds around, he punched him in the gut. The man collapsed to the ground, curling up into a ball, coughing.

  “What happened?” Kevin asked.

  “Sorry. I lost it. Seeing those rooms. What he did to those people. How he used them . . . I just needed him to hurt a little. I know he’ll pay for what he’s done. I just couldn’t help it.”

  “No problem here,” Zaun said. “Can I have a go? I’ve been dying to do that all night?”

  Jack almost laughed, his emotions like a roller coaster.

  The hallway grew dim as the overhead lights faded, as if the power were about to go out. A high-pitched alarm chirped. Red lights came on along the ceiling, flashing like the strobes on a police car. A door at the end of the hall opened, the same door where the “test-subjects” were held.

  Jack spun around to check behind him. Zaun screamed that Reynolds was getting away. He turned around and saw the man dash into one of the lab rooms. Fuck, the bastard had used the confusion to escape.

  Jack ran after Reynolds, but the room’s door was locked. He pounded on it to no avail, meeting Reynolds’ eyes. The mad scientist was grinning as if he was possessed. Two men in white lab coats stood behind him, patting him on the shoulders. The madman’s fellow goons must have sounded the alarm, hoping for a distraction so they could get their leader back. It had worked.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me?” Zaun said. He raised his weapon at the glass but Kevin stopped him, knocking the weapon aside.

  “Don’t bother,” the kid said, rapping his knuckles on the glass. “It’s bullet proof; hell, bomb-proof for all I know. You’ll only waste ammo, maybe catch a ricochet.”

  “We’ve got company,” Jack told the others.

  From the open room at the end of the hall came the undead, the bot-controlled corpses filing into the hall like escaping convicts too doped up to run for it. Now Jack understood why the alarm had gone off—someone had opened the “test-subject” room, which was now a “zombie” containment room.

  “Jack,” Kevin said, “Don’t bother. It’s a diversion. We need to get out of here before the guards show up outside C-wing and pin us down.”

  Five undead were ambling down the hall, with more coming from the room. Jack wondered how many there were.

  “I’ll take care of this,” Zaun said, pulling out his sword after shouldering his M4. “You guys get to the door and make sure we have a clear path to Reynolds’ office.”

  Jack nodded and took off with the others. They quickly made it to the exit. Jack slid the card through the card reader. The red light flashed but remained on. He swiped it again, slower, thinking maybe he’d moved it to fast, but the red light remained on.

  “It’s not working,” he said.

  “It has to be the alarm,” Kevin said, looking back down the hall. “We have to get that door shut.”

  Turning around, Jack watched as Zaun moved like a seasoned-swordsman from some martial arts horror film, as limbs and heads flew from bodies. With the alarm blaring and Zaun busy, there was no way Zaun would hear him yell to shut the door.

  “It’s too loud for him to hear us,” Kevin said, as if reading Jack’s thoughts. “I’ll be right back; you guys get that door open.”

  Jack watched Kevin run down the hall as Zaun decapitated a tall male zombie, the last of the undead. He hoped with all he had that shutting the door would turn off the alarm and let them exit C-wing.

  “Jack, be ready to start blasting,” Maria warned. “We might have company on the other side of this door.” He nodded, watching Kevin pass by the room Reynolds had ducked into when the man opened the door, poked his arm out, gun in hand, and fired at Kevin.

  “No!” Jack screamed. Kevin fell forward to the floor as if an invisible force had shoved him. Jack bolted do
wn the hall, yelling for Maria to keep her gun pointed at the door Reynolds was behind.

  He ran passed the room, Maria telling him she had him covered.

  Kevin wasn’t moving. Jack rolled him over and saw the blood, all the blood. The floor was slick with the stuff and Kevin’s jacket had a huge, ragged hole in it. Jack tore open the kid’s jacket and lifted his shirt, revealing a ghastly, gory, exit wound.

  “Jack,” Kevin said, coughing up blood.

  “Damn it.”

  “Sorry.”

  “There’s no need for that. We’re going to get you out of here.”

  Kevin smiled, his teeth glistening red. “There’s no way I’m leaving here . . . at least not alive.”

  Jack thought about the bots; if they could somehow save Kevin’s life, but there was no time.

  “I can save him, Jack,” came Reynolds’ voice from the speaker next to the room’s door. “Give him to me and maybe, just maybe he’ll live.”

  Jack felt a tug at his sleeve. He turned to look at Kevin, who was shaking his head. “No, Jack. No.”

  “We can leave you with him; let him fix you up, then come back after we get help.” Jack felt like shit for even suggesting the idea, but Kevin was just a kid, beginning his life. He deserved to make it, to get out of the bunker and to a normal life.

  Kevin tried speaking, but only coughed up more blood, dark, almost black in color.

  “What’s it going to be, Jack?” Reynolds said. “He doesn’t have much time.”

  “It’s okay,” Kevin said, grabbing Jack’s hand. “Just make sure . . . you . . . get everyone out.” Jack felt the kid’s grip loosen before his hand fell away. Looking into his eyes, he watched the light go out in them, his head lolling to the side.

  Jack closed his eyes. He took a deep breath before opening them again. Reaching up, he lowered Kevin’s eyelids.

  He heard Maria tell Zaun to shut the door; that it was keeping them from leaving.

  “What’s going on, Jack?” Maria asked.

  “He’s dead.”

  “What? No.”

  Jack stood, heard the alarm cut off, then walked over to the intercom. Pressing the button, he said, “I’m going to make sure you never leave this place.”