Perhaps with the zombies out of sight the people in the city wouldn’t feel the need to utilize whatever technology was being used to keep them at bay. I had received a taste of it when Captain Morgan first turned it on during our car ride to the bridge and it had left me instantly nauseous. I couldn’t imagine what it did to the undead and I certainly wasn’t interested in a second dose. As we drew closer to Lourdes Place, another cluster of upscale apartment housing set over diners and boutiques, I heard a commotion and saw Wilson throw his fist up in the air indicating we should freeze and we did.
The rumble of an engine, maybe more than one, could be heard along with someone yelling into a bullhorn.
“George McCloud! We have you surrounded, continued delay in your surrender will only result in harsher punishment for you and those that are colluding with you.”
Well this was news to me. I glanced around in frightened dismay as did my comrades but we didn’t see anybody. I looked to Wilson and Lanskey but they were quietly yapping at each other trying to figure things out. Wilson must have felt my eyes on him because he held up his hand up indicating I should wait. This dismissal irritated me, I had been fighting insurgents in the desert since before these pinheads were figuring out what to do with their first boners. Wait, what?
Forgetting this troubling and wayward Tegan thought for a moment, I dashed ahead to their position. They both looked at me like I was their kid brother invading the tree fort. “Hey, guys. What’s going on?” I asked.
Wilson sighed and shushed me with a finger. “We think they have people trapped in one of the apartments. Obviously, they think it’s you,” he whispered.
“What are we going to do?”
“Can you, uh, see what we’re dealing with, I mean numbers wise?” Lanskey asked.
“Nope, I sent them away to keep things safer for us so none of my folk are wandering about unfortunately.”
“Ugh, that was fucking stupid, you should’ve told us. Okay, Plan B then, Wilson and I will go scout it out while the rest of you hide. Pick somewhere close and hunker down, we’ll come to you. If we don’t show in 30 minutes, assume the worst and go without us.”
“Okay, sounds good,” I was very comfortable with that plan yet there was a part of me itching to go with them.
They scooted off and I turned to find Randolph right behind me. “I heard. Let’s move out,” he said gruffly. Gathering the frightened and freezing group, we retreated a block north to the nearest building, doing our best to not be seen from the lookouts on the Hennepin Avenue Bridge.
That building turned out to be a rather macabre looking funeral home but beggars can’t be choosers. The door was locked but Steven quickly jimmied it. He turned to give us all a leer as if to say he had his uses. Randolph rolled his eyes at me as we moved inside.
Tessa and Steven left to investigate the building while the rest of the group hunkered down in twos and threes around a tastefully appointed grieving room that had clearly not been scavenged or touched since the Sickness. One of Randolph’s guys, named Kevin, lit a small lantern which he placed on a dusty end table bathing the parlor room in soft light. This didn’t seem like the smartest idea but I didn’t say anything. Instead I scooted a big soft chair around so I could look out one of the windows. The plush armrests made me feel safe and warm in spite of the chill in the room. It was oddly comforting to know that even after the zombie apocalypse some places were considered sacredly creepy enough not to be touched by the living.
As we waited for Wilson and Lanskey to report back in I started thinking about what I’d heard shouted at some hapless sucker hiding out for his life and probably scared shitless in the building around the corner. It seemed to me that the bad guys couldn’t have had the building surrounded. Either we would have noticed such an array of force or they would’ve noticed us, probably both. Which meant whoever was using that bullhorn was bluffing. Most likely he was stalling, waiting for reinforcements to come from inside the city so they could surround the building. The soldiers most have arrived only shortly before we did. This meant if we moved quickly enough we had two choices; try to save whoever was stuck in that building or use them as a distraction to get to our destination on the riverfront.
The minutes ticked away in slow motion. If there had been a clock in the room I would’ve smashed it. The situation was getting to me. I was torn. Every minute we delayed made it less and less likely I would ever get to my father and find Daisy and our unborn child again. On the other hand healthy people were scarce these days. I felt an obligation to help them if they needed it.
I felt a presence and was startled once again to find Randolph hovering over my shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking,” he said.
“No you don’t and you’ve gotta stop doing that,” I said.
“Sneaking up on you?” he asked.
“Yeah, I find it disturbing.”
“You should talk. Anyway, it’s just something I do, you’ll get used to it. And yes I do know that you’re thinking we should try to rescue those people.”
Was I that transparent? I raised my eyebrows at him in anticipation of his inevitable feedback that we should just stick to the plan.
“The smart play would be to use this distraction and hightail it to the river but I agree, we should try to help them if possible.”
“Really, why?” I said in genuine surprise.
“Aside from it being the morally correct choice?” he asked in mock indignation. I nodded and he continued. “We have 11 people in our group, among them are two small children and their father so really they are just dead weight. Whoever is in that building are survivors and we could use them. In fact, we need them desperately if we are gonna have any chance once we get into the city.”
I couldn’t argue with his logic but Daisy was weighing on me. The safety of Sam and Jacob was weighing on me. We needed to get into the city soon. “We can’t do anything until Wilson and Lanskey get back,” I said.
Randolph nodded but before we could talk further Tessa came stomping in from the backroom carrying a case of granola bars. Just seeing the box made my mouth water. I couldn’t remember ever being so hungry. Steven was right behind her, toting a case of Sprite with a big grin on his face.
“Merry Christmas, children!” Tessa shrilled. She seemed genuinely happy and altogether too loud.
“It’s Christmas again already?” Jacob yelled as he and Sam scrambled over to her.
“No, you little asshole,” she said as she passed him a bar. “It’s a figure of speech.”
“I dun know wat tha is,” Jacob said as he powered through the granola bar, crumbs spewing out of his mouth onto Tessa’s shoes.
“That’s because you’re a stupid little kid,” Tessa replied as she moved past him.
“Hey, Tessa, lok a me,” Jacob mumbled.
She turned to look and found him staring at her with his mouth open full of chewed food. In spite of herself she smiled and turned to resume her task.
Steven stepped up to Jacob and handed him a soda, “Here, kid, wash that shit down.”
The whole exchange made me laugh a little bit. I was beginning to think Tessa was more bark than bite which was both a good and a bad thing. Good because it made her seem like a better person but bad because I needed people who would do terrible things if necessary. I hoped she was a little of both. Mark must have drawn the same conclusion I had because he hadn’t said anything during the cursing and name calling. He just sat on the shag carpeted floor leaning back against the couch, waiting for his granola bar.
Everyone was eating, drinking and chatting with relative unmerited glee like we were having a nice family gathering instead freezing our nuts off waiting to die in a zombie nightmare.
“Alright that’s it. Y’all need to shut the fuck up and goddammit, Gallegan, kill that fucking light!” Randolph hissed.
Kevin Gallegan hopped up in obedience and the room went dark aside from moonlight pouring in from the windows.
�
�This isn’t a fucking picnic. I know y’all are hungry but unless you were hoping to die tonight we need to get our game faces back on and I mean now.”
He moved off to brood in a dark corner of the room. I wasn’t sure what set him off or why he’d waited so long before laying the law down. I guessed it was because he felt the group needed a few minutes to decompress. The only sounds in the room at this point were the occasional belch from the soda and some meek chewing.
The silence didn’t last as the sound of a loud engine revved up the block toward our position. Randolph, Steven and I were first to the window, elbowing each other for position. It was a miracle nobody’s gun discharged by accident.
“George! What the fuck, man, back up. Let me do my job. Cover the door. Steven shag your stupid ass to the other window. Everyone else hunker down and get ready to shoot. Gallegan, you take Cove and Hawkey out the back and check our six. We may need to exit that way in hurry,” Randolph said all of this in a tense whisper.
For the second time in five minutes Randolph had pulled our collective head out of our ass and everyone moved into position. I heard Kevin acknowledge his order and the three of them disappeared down the hallway toward the back in silence. Mark took Sam and Jacob to the back of the room and got behind a large closed casket. The boys laid on the floor while the adults took aim with their automatic rifles. I wasted an additional thought on the casket none of us had bothered to look in or even notice. It was empty. It had to be empty. I was sure it was empty.
The vehicle, and it was just one, skidded to a halt right in front of the funeral home entrance. I was behind a chair aiming at the door, my finger on the trigger. I checked again for zombies but still there was nothing. I had a moment to wonder if I hadn’t made a huge mistake sending them all away. Then I heard a voice softly calling my name.
“George, are you guys in there?”
I looked at Randolph but he was staring out the window. “Lanskey, is that you?” he called.
“Yes, it’s us, dick smoke, open the door,” Lanskey called back.
“Are you alone?”
“No, goddammit, open the fucking door!”
Randolph began sending indecipherable hand singles to me and Steven. We both stared at him in confusion and I could hear a quiet argument from the other side of the door possibly even a child softly whimpering. That was enough for me. “We don’t have time for this,” I said.
I took three large steps and had the deadbolt open on the door in a flash. I felt Steven to my right aiming at the door. I looked to my left to find Randolph glaring at me. Then he swore and gave me a hurry up signal with his finger before moving behind me, gun at the ready.
Turning both knobs at the same time I pulled them open as I stepped back and brought my gun up into the waiting face of an angry Lanskey. Wilson was huddled behind a jeep with some people I couldn’t see.
“Friendlies! We are friendlies,” Lanskey declared again as he stormed inside and shoved my gun barrel down. “Put your fucking guns down, you’re going to scare them,” he said.
“Who?” I asked, looking beyond him toward the vehicle.
“The people from the building. We got them out,” he replied. He seemed a little depressed as he said it.
“Wilson, get them in here before they freeze to death.”
I heard Wilson call out a soft acknowledgement and the group behind the jeep emerged and headed for the shelter of the funeral home. My heart sank as a small middle-aged woman and two kids around Sam’s age filed past me into the room. One of the kids was holding a baby and the other was leading a big German Shepherd on a leash. The dog attempted to smell my crotch as it went by.
“Is that everyone?” I asked.
“Not quite, Wilson, come and help me,” Lanskey said.
They both ducked outside once more and jogged to the cargo area at the rear of the jeep. There they removed a tarp and pulled a man from the back. He was gagged and his hands and feet were tied. They cut through the rope that bound his feet and pulled him up to walk him into the building. The man was almost my height though it was hard to tell because he was hunched over. He appeared groggy with one eye swollen shut and a nasty gash on the top of his hairline. He snorted like a horse and cast a sideways glance at me as they ushered him in, his unruly dark hair blowing every which way in the winter wind. Randolph shut the door behind them as Wilson tossed the bound man on the floor.
“Who is this then?” I asked. The man was doing his best to shout curses through his gag as he lay on his belly.
“One of the soldiers. There were four, the other three are dead. We thought it might be a good idea to keep one alive for questioning.”
All of the non-soldier types in the room, including myself, stared at the grumbling man on the ground in distaste. “Smart,” I said, turning away.
Randolph grunted as he looked at the woman and children. “Well this is a real shit sandwich,” he said. I figured that about summed it up so I didn’t add anything.
Chapter 13: One Strike
The Past
The Old Stone House in the District of Columbia was one of a handful of places Dick had met with Tom over the years. He despised the place for its corny creepiness. All shadows and ancient architecture, the building had a way of getting under a person’s skin. Even for a sociopath like Dick. The meeting place was always in the dark, musty basement. Dick could never figure out why when the upper floors were at least maintained but he had his theories.
Those were thoughts he was always careful to keep to himself. The reason was simple; he was terrified of Tom. He had witnessed the man’s appetite for destruction frequently enough to know he wanted to stay off Tom’s shit list. Which was why he was a little nervous about this impromptu summons. If he knew one thing about his boss it was that Tom guarded his position at the top of the Syndicate’s favored list with fevered jealousy. He did not leave his post at headquarters unless absolutely necessary. Something must have happened. Something possibly bad for Dick.
Not that Dick was too concerned, he had worked hard over the decades to demonstrate his value. Surely by now he had built up sufficient equity in the trust department. The Syndicate couldn’t afford to throw away an asset like him. Dick had considered ignoring Tom’s summons but quickly dismissed the idea as suicidal. One didn’t ignore orders from Tom, he was the voice of the Syndicate. It was best to handle this like an ordinary status update. Only in person instead of virtually. Besides, he had an agenda item of his own to discuss with Tom, that goddamn Muddy Brown. Dick didn’t care if he had to cash in his whole lifetime’s worth of chips, he was going make that prick pay for his disrespectful temper tantrum if it was the last thing he did.
He sat dozing on a hard wooden chair inside the gloomy basement. It wasn’t long before he sensed a foreboding presence in the room, the hair on his neck standing up as witness to Tom’s arrival. He shuddered a little, hating the undulating energy of his superior. Another reminder of the unfair balance of power between them. It made his stomach ache. Typical Tom, always had to make his appearances as melodramatic as possible. As if Dick needed to be reminded Tom could crush him like a bug if he wanted to.
His boss appeared in front of him like a phantom. Dick stood to his feet internally cringing in anticipation of tom’s soft cultured voice. Like his mouth was filled with the sweetest honey, pleasant to hear but it made his teeth hurt and gave him heartburn. Dick knew Tom did this to him on purpose. It was another maddening secret the Syndicate had shared with Tom but withheld from their less favored subjects.
“Are you ready to move forward with Project Simon?” Tom asked.
Dick’s mind was battered with a thousand filthy images as he attempted to answer Tom’s question. Another trick of the mind employed to intimidate. Dick’s usual attempts to focus were not working. In addition to the nasty photo collage there was pain in his head like fingers painfully clawing his brain in several directions at once.Was Tom growing stronger?
Dick steadie
d his wobbly legs and took a deep breath. This wasn’t his first rodeo. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the question which hurt because they were both swollen from the fight. The physical pain helped him focus.
“We,” he struggled, “are very close to mass production and distribution of the virus. The laboratories are ready. Just a few final details to tweak.” He felt the mental assault on his mind loosen a little. He glanced at Tom’s face.Was that a hint of frustration? He grew stronger still as he continued, “The media scare has successfully commenced so the public will be primed to receive the vaccination. I need one more month.”
Even with his tiny mental victory his nerves were screaming in the stony silence of the room as he waited for a response. He wasn’t going to let Tom know he was suffering.
“Things have changed I’m afraid,” Tom said. “There has been a security breach. Critical information was leaked.”
Dick was both confused and a little frightened. “How is that possible? What kind of breach?” Dick asked.
Tom stared at him for an eternity as if trying to decide if Dick was the source of the breach. “We don’t know how it happened but key details about the project were leaked. It might be a big deal if the wrong people get their hands on the information. When I find the source there will be hell to pay.”
Dick felt relief wash through him like a wave of warm water, “What do you need me to do?” he asked.
“It has become necessary to move up the time table. You have two weeks and we expect you to commence with the virus in the pilot cities.”
“As you wish,” Dick said. He felt the pressure starting to subside from his head which meant the meeting was over and Tom was getting ready to leave. “I have a request,” he hastily announced to Tom’s retreating back.
Running with the Horde (Book 2): Delusions of Monsters Page 11
