by Emma Shortt
“We should get moving,” Luke said and he stepped around the table to run a hand up and down her back. Jackson leaned into the contact and was surprised to feel ever so slightly cheered by the thoughts of crawling back into a warm bed. “Let’s not push our luck, eh?” he added.
A smile shot between them. Jackson’s stomach clenched. Distance and problems aside, Luke was just so damn hot. It hit her like that at times, shocking her a little, and she was reminded of the moment they had met, when he’d pulled her into the pool room and she’d practically drooled at the fine specimen of masculinity he had presented.
“Yeah—”
The sound of footsteps filled the room and they all turned to see Jay come through the door. He was clearly out of breath, sweat beads obvious across his buzz cut. Jackson took one look at him and felt anticipation disappear, replaced with adrenaline. It zinged through her veins, clear and immediate.
“What is it?” she asked stepping forward, breaking the contact with Luke.
“There’s…” Jay pulled in a ragged breath and pointed to the outer door of the shack. “We need to leave now.”
“Leave?” Sebastian looked up from whatever the hell he was messing around with next to the zombie. “We haven’t finished yet. Might as well get rid of Two-h-ee while we’re here.”
“No,” Jay gasped. “Now. They’re coming.” And Jackson could see fear in his eyes, and that shot something through her, because the big, silent man didn’t seem like he would be the type to feel that. She’d pegged him as one of those who were past that point.
“What the fuck’s going on?” Luke asked. “What did you see? How many are there? Are they coming through the ground?”
Even as he asked the questions both he and Jackson moved toward the door, Pete bringing up the rear. Everyone pulled their weapons free and Jackson’s head cleared of all thoughts. There and then the redheaded zombie, Two-h-ee, the virus and its odd workings, everything faded into the distance and she put herself in battle mode.
“How many?” she asked Jay, repeating Luke’s question. Visions of a superpack ran through her mind, or even zombies rising from the ground—proper old-school style.
“I—”
But there was no need for Jay to say anything else because they all heard it then. A groan followed by another, and then another and another. A veritable symphony of them and Jackson shuddered because those awful death sounds were not coming from the redheaded zombie, but her question was answered at least. A super-size pack—there was no doubt about that.
“Time to rock and roll,” she whispered, and Luke stepped forward so that his body heat pressed against her and she knew it was because he alone had heard her.
“Let’s do this,” he said. “Quickly.”
“Yeah—” The death groans continued, making Jackson pause. They were far louder than they should have been, but worse they were combined with something else. Pounding. And only one thing made that sound. Wasn’t it what had alerted her to Luke’s presence before she even knew him?
The others heard the exact same thing and Sebastian gasped at the same time as Pete let loose a strong of cusses. “How the fuck did they find us?”
“They’ve never been here,” Sebastian said. “Never.”
Jackson stroked Mandy’s hilt and rolled her shoulders, already envisaging the battle in her mind if they didn’t mosey on out right now.
“Well they’re here now,” she said. “So let’s move.”
They practically sprinted through the large space of the shack, no time to even lock the door to the small room. Sebastian muttered as they ran but even he was smart enough to know that shit was about to go down and the experiments had to come second place.
“Straight to the truck,” Luke said. “We’ll gun it and move out immediately. Sebastian, get the door open and then stand as far back as you can just in case any of them are out there. We’ll take them out first, then get to the truck.”
The groans increased in volume as Sebastian stepped forward to grasp the handle to the main door, and maybe that might not have meant anything but the way they sounded, almost like a melody, kicked something to life in Jackson, a memory, maybe her worst memory, and she skidded to a standstill. Her brain supplied the knowledge that had quivered around the edges up till now and it hit her. With that realization her heart raced and her stomach dropped to her knees. She looked to Sebastian, to Jay, then Pete, and finally to Luke.
“Oh my God…”
“What the hell is that? What is that sound?”
The question came from the doctor, his hand paused on the door, and she realized then that Sebastian had no idea what the melody of groans meant or what the volume said about how close they were. Only she and Luke knew, only the two of them understood, and before either could even say another word, they walked forward automatically and took each other’s hands. The barriers they’d lived with for the last few days swayed before crumbling completely and green eyes found blue.
“Lock the door, Seb,” she said softly, her eyes still held with Luke’s. “They’re too close.”
“What?” Pete pushed the doctor aside and made to grab the door handle. “Of course they’re not!”
“Listen,” Luke said. “Just listen.”
And they all paused, even Pete, and they listened. The death groans were reaching a fever pitch now and combined with the sounds of God-knew-how-many feet pounding on the earth floor. Jackson guessed the zombies were maybe a dozen yards away at most. There was no time to run for the truck, no time to run at all.
Luke reached out a hand and stroked down the side of her face. Jackson leaned into his touch, shivering slightly from the feel of it.
“What the hell is that?” Pete asked. “What is it?”
“It’s pretty much the end,” Luke said, and Jackson nodded against his hand, surprised to find how much that thought hurt.
“It is at that.”
Pete growled, stepping forward, his face tight with anger. “The end? We can take down a bunch. Don’t count us out yet.”
And Jackson sighed, her hand clasping Luke’s. “A bunch yes, but not this many.”
“What many? What is it?”
Green to blue, green to blue, and nothing else but that.
“It’s a horde.”
Chapter Thirty-five
The possibilities of getting out of this one were slim. Luke knew that instinctively. This wasn’t like the fight outside Kelly’s Clothing or the bakery or even the garage. This was a whole other shit storm.
Fuck.
“We should move back into the secure room,” he said. “There are too many places out here for them to breach.”
Jackson nodded her agreement and without waiting for any of the others, they sprinted back to the smaller room. The redheaded zombie snarled when she saw them and pulled against her bonds. Her groan joined that of the horde, and Luke wondered if maybe she could hear her brothers and sisters on the other side. He looked into her calculating eyes and scowled. Alive or dead, human or no, he hated them all. The nature of their virus did not change that for him. A zombie was a zombie and the only thing they were good for was beheading.
“What’s the plan then, baby?” Jackson asked and he laughed, just like she’d wanted him to do.
“Isn’t the planning your job? You make the plan, do the plan, live the plan.”
“Yeah, ideas aren’t exactly whizzing right now,” she said. “Maybe we could tunnel out? Zombie style.”
“Um, we’ll use Sebastian’s equipment, won’t take long at all. A year or two to make camp?”
She shrugged. “A couple of years is nothing, took me that long to walk from New York to you.”
“Let’s get right on that then.”
Pete, Sebastian, and Jay barreled through the door seconds later, the doctor clearly out of breath. “I locked and barred the door,” he spluttered. “But what are we going to do? A horde means a horde right? Like a lot?”
“Yeah,” Jackso
n said. “A lot.”
“So what are we going to do?”
“Just working that out right now,” Luke replied.
The outer shack door juddered and Luke swallowed the ball of frantic energy trying to leap up his throat. He worked out the layout in his mind, options for escape discarded one after the other. The shack was made of some sort of concrete, and there were no windows beyond a couple of small ones in the ceiling of the main room. They were barred though and he doubted the zombies were thin enough to get through them—his group certainly wasn’t. Already they were pounding on the main door so there was no chance of getting out that way, and the only other exit door—here in the small room—had been barred up when Sebastian had taken over. Jackson had told him it worked as a possible escape, always have an exit, baby, by removing the bars. But that it would take a while to get them all free.
“Luke?” Jackson prompted. “What are you thinking?”
“That we need another door.”
The redheaded zombie groaned.
“There’s only that one.” She pointed to the corner. “It’s secure but we could leave through it from this side. Just need to get those bars off. It’ll take about ten minutes between the two of us.”
“And then what?” Pete asked. “You said loads. How many is loads?”
Luke shrugged, trying to look composed but failing epically. “About a hundred.”
“You’re fucking joking.”
“I wish.”
They pounded again, only this time zombies were pounding on the front door, the sides, and even a couple on the ceiling. “There’s the weak spot,” Jackson said, pointing upward. “It’s sheet metal. Will keep them out for maybe ten minutes.”
“Same time it takes to get the bars off.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “But like Pete said, we go out there and then what? We can’t fight twenty odd each.”
“So it’s a choice between fighting and dying in here or doing it out there.”
“This room is secure,” Sebastian said. “I made sure to reinforce the roof. We can stay safe in here for maybe a half hour before they get through the second layer, or maybe go under.” He shook his head and began picking up syringes. “So yeah, a half hour?”
A huge judder sounded then and they all turned to look into the outer room and watch the main door begin to buckle.
“Fuck,” Luke breathed. “A choice between running and hoping to make it or trapping ourselves in here. Which are we going to do? Which gives us more of a chance?”
Another huge smash rumbled through the building, and the door frame began to bend. The metal door was being removed from the concrete itself, and Luke knew there must be dozens pounding against it to get that sort of effect. He swallowed drily and played the options over again—seeing nothing that would possibly work.
“Maybe we should—” He began, though he didn’t really even know what he was going to say, not that it mattered anyway, because the moment the words left his mouth the outer door collapsed, crumpling in on itself, and behind it stood more zombies than Luke could even begin to count. It was like the drive through them all over again, their snarling faces so fucking close, only this time there was no quick escape, no getting away in a handful of seconds.
“Shut the fucking door,” Pete roared. “Now.”
And Jackson leaped forward before Luke even began to move, shutting it just as the horde filled the main room.
…
The door shut with a thud that perfectly matched the racing beat thrumming through Jackson’s chest. She secured it and took just a moment to pause against the metal, taking a deep breath as she did so. Seeing the horde before—was it even the same one?—had been pretty skeevy, but this kicked its ass. Because they weren’t driving through them at high speed now. Now the horde was right outside the fucking door.
Another thud followed the one she’d created as they tried to make their way in—the bastards—and she stepped away from the door, back to Luke.
“A half hour?” she asked Sebastian. “Until they get in here?”
“About,” he said. “Give or take…well according to my calculations…but obviously they’re theoretical…so ah, yes, I haven’t actually tested them or anything.”
Jackson frowned, knowing how prone Sebastian’s calculations were to error. He was no mathematician. “Let’s say fifteen then.”
“How long before the people at the camp realize?” Luke asked, and Jackson looked to Pete, because this was his territory more than hers, even though this was her job now, and what were the fucking odds of that? Three days in and she got a horde. Just her luck.
“That we’re dead? Or that we’re dead?” Pete asked.
Luke shrugged. “Either or.”
“Enough with the negatives already,” Jackson said. Though she knew they were right. There really was no way out of this one.
Another thump, a strangled groan and a series of wails accompanied her words. Jackson gripped Mandy as hard as she could to the point where the bones in her hands actually hurt.
“Maybe in a couple of hours,” Pete said. “Nancy will sound the alarm then.”
“It’ll alert camp, at least,” Luke said, “that something’s wrong, so there’s the silver lining.”
Jackson took a deep breath as she thought about that lining and in a way it made her feel better. That the camp would survive, one of the last bastions of humanity remaining. Nancy was smart and she’d know something was definitely up when they didn’t return. Likely she’d have all the guards out manning the wall. Of course, any chance of a cure would be lost after today. With Sebastian dead there would be no one to continue his work. No normality, not pulling the world back to how it was. Right about now Jackson couldn’t find it in herself to think about that. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: the bloodbath to come.
“Well,” Pete said, breaking the silence, “I have to say I never saw this one coming. The bastards are ganging up, are they? Building hordes?”
“We saw one a week or so ago,” Luke replied. “Jack thought they were massing to take down some survivors.”
“It was the only thing that made sense,” she said.
“And on that basis it means they’re coming after the camp here,” Luke added. “Though whether it’s the same horde, I don’t know. Probably not, considering the logistics and the fact we took quite a few of them out, so this is something they’re all doing. Maybe like the burrowing. Fuck.”
“Took them out how?” Pete asked and Luke shook his head.
“We ran them over.”
“Ah…”
“So maybe,” Sebastian interrupted, his gaze not lifting, because he was busy sorting through various liquids, “they’re just passing by here on their way to the camp? They don’t know what we’re doing here at all, and if Jay wasn’t outside, they might not even have spotted us?”
“Maybe,” Luke said slowly.
“Seb, what are you doing?” Jackson asked.
“Looking for a defense,” was all he replied.
She eyed his potions but couldn’t imagine what he could possibly find to take down hundreds. One-on-one no doubt, he could pump the damn things full of stuff to make them scream. But this many? No, the doctor wasn’t going to save them. “The door,” she said. “What do we do? Out or in? We need to make a decision now.”
“I’d rather fight them here,” Pete said. “Restricted space and all.”
“Unless they all get in,” Luke said. “We’d be fucked then. They’d overwhelm us.”
“So the door then?”
She sighed and pushed past them to grab the bars. Now was not the time for a fucking debate. “I’m making the decision for us. We’ll go for it. Only way.”
The bars were set in a complicated system of interlocking grooves—Sebastian’s design of course—and Jackson got started on the first one immediately. Luke joined her after a moment and took hold of the right-hand side, followed by Pete and then Jay.
Pete twisted the bar and pulled at the same time Jackson pushed. “Fighting seems a bit kamikaze, but you know me, I never get tired of killing the bastards, and if this is my last stand, I want to make it count, not be pounced on while I’m running away.”
“Same,” Jay said. “I’ll go down fighting.”
The first bar was removed in no time and they all began on the next. “We’ll make it count,” Jackson said. “What else is there to do but that?”
They twisted the second bar at the same moment a large thud sounded. Everyone turned—even Sebastian, who was still rifling through his stuff—and looked at the door. A large dent was obvious right in the middle and Jackson knew that such a dent meant the beginning of the end. The strength of metal was in its rigid qualities. Once that began to fail it was a whole lot easier to get through.
She wiped a hand across her sweat-soaked brow and began to pull on the second bar with Pete. It came off and they all moved down to the next. Just three more to go but the space was getting tight.
“You guys should hunt out any extra weapons,” she told the two men as they pulled on the third bar. “Help Seb with whatever he needs. There isn’t space here for all of us.”
“Saw some hatchets over there.” Pete nodded in the direction of the cage where Two-h-ee was leaking. The two men hurried over, and she and Luke began to remove the third bar.
“The things you do to get me alone,” Luke said, and Jackson smiled—despite everything—she smiled.
“What can I say? I’m helpless against you, Luke.”
“I wanted to tell you something,” Luke began, as they pulled off the third bar.
He was right next to her. The two of them half crouched, his breath fanning against her face. She was reminded irresistibly of the time outside the bank when it had tickled her neck, and she’d thought that he was going to be a major distraction. And hadn’t she been right?
“That you had the rocket launcher all along,” she said. “You were holding out on me? Damn you, Luke.”
