Under a Graveyard Sky btr-1

by John Ringo

  “Would you like me to think ahead for you?” Tom said. “The boat needs to be secured. Although the girls and Stace are trained by you, they’re not you or I. I could detail someone to secure the boat but given the circumstance I’m not sure who I’d trust to hold a boat in the harbor. So you need to stay. And Stacey is your engineer, not to mention just about the kindest person in the entire family. I don’t see her as an assistant to our resident mad doctor.”

  “Is he mad?” Stacey asked.

  “No more than Steve or I,” Tom said, shrugging. “Bit of an arse, but then so are Steve and I,” he added with a grin.

  “You’re saying one of the girls,” Steve said. “To assist you in murder.”

  “Assuming that this ever comes out,” Tom said, “and assuming that people don’t just ignore it and assuming that Sophia’s role in it ever comes out, the most she could be charged with is accessory after the fact. The only person’s who are going to know she knows what she is doing are more culpable by far. And you can be assured I’ll be moving heaven and earth to make sure she’s not locked up when the fall comes. To the point of having the plans ready for the prison break.”

  “Which will be difficult for you to affect if you’re in prison as well,” Steve pointed out.

  “Which is why you’re going to have them,” Tom said, grinning. “The other reason for you to be out here, brother of mine. Seriously. I need Sophia. You have my assurance as her uncle that she’ll be secure while she’s on the island. Oh, and she’ll get paid. In gold.”

  “Why would people ignore it?” Stacey asked, temporizing.

  “Because I know I’m not the only one with this bright idea,” Tom said. “I don’t have any hard data on that but I guarantee that NYPD is doing the same thing. The cops aren’t going to go without vaccine. Nor is NYFD. And all the same rationales hold. One: it gets dangerous zombies off the streets without having to put them in permanent isolation. Which is consuming so many resources it’s getting ineffective. Two: it saves people. Yes, it requires that some die that others live but they’re already effectively no longer human. At least that’s what I tell myself in the middle of the night. Oh, and for another reason to release Sophia: it gets her off the boat. That’s less resource use and I know that she and Faith have been driving you nuts.”

  “I’d rather you took Faith,” Steve said, shaking his head. “If I hear the word ‘bored’ out of her mouth one more time I’m going to throw her over the side.”

  “Which of them would you rather have producing your vaccine?” Tom asked.

  “Sophia,” Stacey and Steve said simultaneously. Then chuckled.

  “Send them both,” Tom said. “I can find something to occupy that little hellion that doesn’t involve being on a BERT.”

  “BERT?” Stacey asked.

  “Biological Emergency Response Team,” Tom said. “And I’ll ensure they both get the same protection as any of our execs. They’ll be safe. They can quarter with me. I’ve got the room.”

  “You’ll regret that,” Steve said, looking at Stacey.

  “We’ll have to talk to them about it,” Stacey said. “It’s…”

  “A horrible thing to ask,” Tom said. “But it’s necessary.”

  “Let me go get them,” Steve said.

  * * *

  “We get to get off the boat?” Faith said.

  “Let me get this straight,” Sophia said, carefully. “My uncle is chopping up people to make vaccine?”

  “Possibly,” Tom said, calmly. “And yes.”

  “And you want me to help?” Sophia said.

  “You wouldn’t be directly involved in termination,” Tom said. “Or harvesting. Or certain other aspects. Just working in the lab with Dr. Curry to produce the vaccine. The worst part is the first bit. Dr. Curry will handle that. After that it’s just centrifuging and irradiating materials.”

  “I’ll help,” Faith said. “If it gets me off this boat!”

  “I’ll find something else for you to do,” Tom said. “Although I’m not sure what. I can’t exactly put a thirteen-year-old on guard duty…”

  “You don’t trust me?” Faith said. “Thanks a lot!”

  “At my back, sure,” Tom said. Okay a little white lie. He’d rather have her in front so he wouldn’t get shot by an AD. “In a lab? Let’s face it, Faith, you’re not detail oriented.”

  “True,” Faith said, grinning. “You’d trust me at your back? Really?”

  “Really,” Tom said. “And I’ll figure out something useful for you to do. But not anything involving securing, terminating or harvesting. Oh, and if this does come out and the authorities become involved, nobody knows nothing. Understood?”

  “Oh, yeah,” Faith said, making a zipping motion on her lips. “Sealed tight.”

  “I’ll do it,” Sophia said, shrugging. “It needs to be done and I can see why you chose me. I…appreciate the trust if not… Really don’t want to chop up people stuff. But… Okay.”

  “I’m sorry I’m asking,” Tom said. But he’d already been back and forth enough on the subject. “But…yeah. Thank you. And there’s another bit,” he said, pulling out some paperwork.

  “You need to hire me?” Sophia asked.

  “You’re going to be an intern,” Tom said. “We’ll handle that paperwork at the bank. This is paperwork making your parents ‘associated security contractors’ with the Bank and paperwork to permit the vast store of weapons I’m sure Steve brought to be legally held in New York harbor…”

  “You can’t even have weapons in New York harbor?” Steve said. “What the hell is wrong with this place?”

  “The law on it is iffy,” Tom said. “But what they’ll do is have the Coast Guard board you with some NYPD harbor patrol people along. If there are weapons, they may not, legally, be able to seize them but they’ll do a bend and spread on you looking for an excuse. Right now, the City and various corporations, hem, hem, are hiring security contractors left and right. This is all the paperwork. You fill it out, I’ll file it and get the certification back to you. Technically, you’re not fully legal until the certs have been authorized by the appropriate bureaucrats. But with the certs pending review, you’re covered enough. And the office that does the certifications is overrun right now so nobody should geek.”

  “When do we leave?” Faith asked, standing up. “I need to get dressed.”

  “As soon as your parents finish filling out the blanks on the paperwork and you get packed,” Tom said. “Why do you think I brought the big boat? And dressed how?”

  “Dressed for Zombie New York!” Faith said. “You don’t think I’m going walking through the streets of a New York overrun by zombies in street clothes do you?”

  “Yes,” Tom said, carefully. “Yes, I do. Because you’re a thirteen-year-old girl. If you go walking through the streets of New York dressed up like a zombie contract hunter in Fallujah, you’re going to get escorted to juvie. Where, like as not, some kid will go zombie and bite you. So, yes, you’re going to go dressed in street clothes. I’ve got security waiting to pick us up at the dock.”

  “Are there zombie contract hunters in Fallujah?” Steve asked.

  “Yes,” Tom said. “And like I said, the idea is catching on in the States. Better to have contractors securing them than police. Put a bounty on them. There are legal issues. There always are. So go get packed for a few days at Uncle Tom’s cabin. Or condo in this case.”

  “Can I bring my gear?” Faith asked. “Just in case?”

  “No firearms,” Tom said, rolling his eyes. “Other than that, if you can carry it you can bring it.”

  “Oooo! Got that!” Faith said, darting below.

  “And no bows, crossbows or blowguns!” Tom called after her.

  “I hate you Uncle Tom…!”

  * * *

  “Well,” Kaplan said, catching the tossed rope. “I can see the family resemblance…”

  Sophia had packed one “good” outfit: a cream business suit and
matching shoes. Which was what she was wearing. She was carrying a briefcase and had a backpack over her shoulder. And, because she wasn’t stupid, she was wearing a nose/mouth respirator.

  Faith on the other hand…

  She had on body armor. And a full face mask respirator. And a tactical helmet. And a full coverage uniform. And tactical boots. And tactical gloves. And a radio. And a machete. And a kukri. And two or three more knives. And three, count ’em, three tasers, cause Uncle Tom hadn’t mentioned tasers…

  “Can you move in all that, kid?” Durante asked.

  “Yep,” Faith said, her voice slightly muffled. She bent down and picked up one of Sophia’s duffles, then tossed it through the air to hit the former SF NCO in the chest. “Shoot, move and communicate. That get through to you?”

  “Loud and clear, kid,” Durante said, laughing. “Let me guess: You’re the lab rat.”

  “Like she knows a pipette from a test tube,” Sophia said, stepping delicately onto the dock. “I see you have the bags, Faith dear.”

  “Like hell I do,” Faith shouted. It was muffled by the respirator, which sort of ruined it. “Get back here and do some work for a change!”

  “We’ve got it,” Kaplan said, climbing in the boat. “Just head up to the car.”

  “Where’s the zombies?” Faith asked, jumping onto the dock.

  “Faith,” Tom said, trying not to laugh. “Just get in the Expedition,” he added pointing.

  “Where’s the screaming crowds?” Faith asked, throwing her hands up in the air. “Where’s the random gunfire?”

  “Queens,” Kaplan said. “But that’s sort of normal.”

  “This sucks!” Faith said. “I’m bored.”

  “Oh, just do NOT start,” Sophia said.

  “ME start?”

  “This is going to be sooo much fun,” Tom said. “I should have looked in the phone book under ‘deranged minion.’”

  “Craigslist,” Durante corrected. “There’s a whole section…”

  * * *

  “Mr. Smith…” the security guard said, carefully. The retired NYPD cop was, after all, talking to his boss. “You realize that most of this stuff is illegal to carry in New York City, right?”

  “Just humor her,” Tom said. “It’s not worth the argument.”

  They’d taken a side entrance to the building but it still had a manned security checkpoint where Faith, over protest, was being forced to disarm herself.

  “God this is embarrassing,” Sophia said, hanging her head.

  “You’re embarassed?” Faith said, pulling out yet another knife. Then the brass knuckles… “I’m being disarmed! In New York! In a zombie apocalypse!”

  “I’m in charge of building security,” Tom said, shaking his head. “Me. I’ll make sure you don’t have to fight any zombies while in my building.”

  “Like that’s being a friend,” Faith said, dropping a sand bag cosh onto the pile. “There. Done. I need a receipt.”

  “Just give her one that says ‘Bucket o’ weapons,’” Durante suggested. “I wish you were legal, girl. I’d propose.”

  “Like I date old guys,” Faith said, then thumped him on the shoulder. “Just kidding. You’re pretty cute for an old fart.”

  * * *

  “So you’re the boss’s niece,” Dr. Curry said, dyspeptically.

  Sophia’s previous experience in a lab was high school chemistry. She’d made her usual A.

  She had no clue what most of the stuff in Dr. Curry’s lab was for. There were big boxes with lights flashing on them. There were piles of complex glassware. There were computer cables snaking everywhere.

  “Yes, sir,” Sophia said, trying not to appear as terrified as she actually was.

  “You can take off the respirator,” Curry said. “This is the clean zone. The hot zone is back there,” he added, pointing to a door liberally covered with warning stickers. “Wait. Have you been blood tested?”

  “No, sir,” Sophia said, starting to take off the respirator.

  “Then keep it on for a second,” Curry said, pulling out a lancet. “I don’t want to get exposed if you are. Hold out your hand.”

  He lanced the tip of her finger, then squeezed a drop of blood onto a small white card. The blood spread through a series of channels and as it did it turned blue.

  “You’re clear,” Curry said. “Now take off the mask.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sophia said, finally pulling it off and shaking her head. “Whew. That feels better.”

  “Don’t get used to it,” Curry said with a mirthless chuckle. “You’ll be in full gear in the hot zone. Okay, don’t get freaked by all this stuff. It’s useful but you won’t be working with most of it. Any of it probably. What you are going to be doing is working with vaccine production.” He paused and looked at her carefully.

  “I understand that we’re extracting the vaccine, or the virus bodies anyway, from the spinal cords of infected primates,” Sophia said, carefully.

  “Correct,” Dr. Curry said, nodding. “Just concentrate on that word. Primates. What you’ll be doing is, frankly, all the scut work. There are several procedures. Some of them are tedious and you’ll be doing the tedious ones. I did them when I was in college and grad school. I’m getting too old to pipette all day. And then there’s the washing up. I’ll be in there most of the time, all of the time at first, working with you. I’ll be doing the more complicated procedures. You just do as I tell you and you’ll be fine. The only real danger, since the material is a blood pathogen, is getting it into a cut. Do you have any cuts at all?”

  “None on my arms or anything,” Sophia said, holding them out.

  “Okay,” Dr. Curry said. “I do hope you brought some other clothes.”

  “They’re outside,” Sophia said. “May I ask why?”

  “Because there’s no way you’re working in a moon suit in a business suit and heels…”

  CHAPTER 9

  “Mr. Schmidt, this is my niece, Faith,” Tom said.

  Dave Schmidt didn’t work for Tom. He was one of the building engineers, which was an entirely different company. But they were sort of friends and if Tom didn’t find someone to entertain Faith soon all hell was going to break loose. And he was busy, damnit.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss,” Schmidt said, his brow furrowing.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Schmidt,” Faith said, waving instead of shaking his hand.

  Faith was being as close as she could come to being on “best behavior.” Given that not only had Uncle Tom divested her of all her weapons, most of her gear had been dropped in the security team’s locker room. She didn’t even have so much as body armor. In a zombie apocalypse!

  “There are some real-world reasons that I’d like Faith to have a thorough grounding in large scale building design,” Tom said. “I know you have duties but would it be too much of an imposition for Faith to assist you in them?”

  “There are regulations, Mr. Smith…” Schmidt said, uncomfortably.

  “And we live in interesting times,” Tom said, smiling broadly. “Seriously, help a guy out here.”

  “I…” Schmidt said, then shrugged. “Sure. No problem.”

  “Thank you,” Tom said. “I owe you.”

  “Can we speak privately, sir?” Schmidt asked.

  “Sure,” Tom said, waving for Faith to step out. They were meeting in the engineer’s very nearly subterranean office.

  “I…” Schmidt said, then cleared his throat. “I understand that BoA has access to vaccine, sir…”

  “That rumor was quick,” Tom said, frowning. “I’ll neither confirm nor deny but for the purpose of discussion…?”

  “I’d really like to get some, sir,” Schmidt said, his face working. “My…my sister has already… She’s in the confinement facility.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tom said, sighing. “You understand that it’s a vaccine. It’s not a cure. There’s nothing, currently, that can be done for your sister.”

&n
bsp; “Yes, sir,” Schmidt said. “But…I really don’t want to be that way and…I have children. And grandchildren.”

  “I can’t get a lot of doses freed up,” Smith said, trying not to sigh again. “I’ll see what I can do. As long as you keep that Amazon out of my hair for a while.”

  “I heard about the security checkpoint,” Schmidt said, chuckling. “A sword? Seriously?”

  “Are you talking about the machete or the kukri?” Tom asked. “Yes, seriously. And okay, yes, I’ll see what I can do. Just…”

  “Get her out of your hair for a while,” Schmidt said, standing up and sticking out his hand. He pulled it back after a moment. “Sorry. Can do. Lots to learn. And I’m a pretty good teacher.”

  “Thank you.”

  * * *

  “So this is it?” Faith pounced as Tom left the office. “You’re going to turn me over to some fat old engineer to go dig around in sewers?”

  “Faith,” Tom said, trying not to grit his teeth. “There is, in fact, a real world reason for this?”

  “What?” Faith said. “What can I possibly…?”

  “Building design!” Tom snapped. “Where are we?”

  “I really have no clue,” Faith said. “I got lost a half an hour ago.”

  “Which is the point,” Tom said. “Let’s say that things really fall apart. That you have to do stuff that no reasonable thirteen-year-old should have to do to survive. You think that knowing how big buildings like this really work won’t be useful?”

  “Well…” Faith said, frowning.

  “I also am incredibly busy,” Tom said. “I’m the head of security of a major international bank that millions of people depend upon in the middle of an international crisis! Are you really so selfish you think I should spend all my time pampering to your tantrums? Or that you should even be throwing them?”

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Tom,” Faith said. “I… It’s just…”

  “This will keep you occupied and hopefully interested,” Tom said. “While I try to save as many people as I can. So, yes, you’re going to get an introductory course in building engineering, which is at least half about how to find your way around in one. Which may just some day save your life.”