by Sean Platt
Episode 5
CHAPTER 30—LIAM HARROW
The sun left and took 40 degrees with it. A chill shot through Liam. He wondered if they could build a fire in their building without drawing the eyes of zombies, bandits, or other players.
From their spot on the fifth floor of an apartment building in surprisingly stable condition, they had an excellent view of one of the city’s main avenues. According to Egan’s roughly drawn map, the five-mile stretch of six lanes zigzagged from north to south, staying just straight enough to split The Outback’s heart roughly in half. The meandering road was littered with ancient transports and starving zombies, making it impossible to cross without a vehicle to cover distances quickly and provide immediate cover.
“We should leave the buildings if it snows,” Liam said, looking out the window. “The streets should be less crowded. Probably safer.” He turned to Chelsea. “How’s your ankle?”
She stood from her chair, wincing. “Still hurts, but I can keep up.”
Liam didn’t bother looking at Katrina, sitting on the floor in the corner beside Clark at the window. He could feel her stare. Ever since Chelsea twisted her ankle while the three of them were running from zombies a few hours before, they’d had to slow their pursuit of Adam. It wasn’t Liam’s first choice, but their only other option was to leave the girl behind to die. Too, they still had no idea where Adam was, so resting didn’t really change things.
“I’m sorry,” Chelsea said to Katrina. “I don’t want to slow you all down and keep you from finding Adam.”
Katrina ignored Chelsea and continued to rotate the dial on the box screen provided by Egan, searching through the 20 or so Network feeds from the orbs flying through the city. They’d stopped every half hour or so to cycle through channels but had yet to find any sign of Adam.
Liam tried not to become discouraged, telling himself that not seeing Adam didn’t mean he was dead. The Outback had plenty of places to hide, no shortage of hovels where a resourceful guy like Adam could bury himself, then wait for the others to eliminate one another before reaching the Mesa, wherever that was.
“Thanks for letting me rest my ankle, Liam,” Chelsea said, filling the silence left by Katrina. “I know we lost touch over the years and weren’t really all that close before. This is really kind of you. All of you.” She breathed through a beat, then repeated, “Thanks.”
Liam could practically feel Katrina rolling her eyes.
Clark muttered, “No problem.”
“I was rooting for you and Ana in The Games. When they showed you both dying, it broke my heart. I was so glad to see you today and realize it was a lie.”
Liam nodded, not knowing what to say, uncomfortable with the girl’s continued fawning. She’d been slathering him with compliments ever since he’d managed to convince Katrina to bring her along. Liam wasn’t sure if she was truly that grateful or afraid that he’d realize what a liability he’d invited into the group.
While the girl had tried to appear tough when they found her, she clearly wasn’t cut from Ana’s fabric. Chelsea wasn’t a fighter. She had a clerical job in City 6, useless in training for The Games.
He couldn’t dwell on it now, though, for at that moment Katrina said, “I found Adam,” pulling Liam back to the task at hand. She held up the box screen so Liam could see. “There.” She pointed.
Liam walked over and looked down at the small screen. It was Adam all right, creeping through an alley alongside another player, trying to pass a horde of zombies swarming the front of a tall building with large letters carved into its stone face: APEX NATIONAL BANK.
Katrina cranked the volume to see if Kirk Kirkman had anything to say. He didn’t. Liam figured they were likely watching one of the many feeds The State kept from the audience, meant for monitoring players internally. This footage with Adam would probably go to broadcast the moment he and his companion crashed into trouble.
“Look for an Apex National Bank,” Katrina said to Clark as he scanned the skyline with infrared binoculars.
Liam turned to a shaking Chelsea. “You OK?”
“Just cold,” she said through chattering teeth.
While Katrina, Clark, and Liam were prepared for the freeze, all covered in thick black coats, Chelsea had the thin Darwin coveralls and nothing more.
Liam shook the coat from his shoulders and slipped it around the girl.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m good.” He returned to his spot beside Katrina.
She looked up at Liam, not so subtly shaking her head. He ignored her and focused on the screen as Adam and his companion took cover behind a small wall to survey the zombies.
From the camera’s angle, it seemed like they could have easily sneaked past the zombies by turning down another alley.
“They could have kept going.” Katrina said, echoing his suspicions. “They must be trying to get into the bank.”
“Yeah. But why?” Liam asked.
“Maybe one of ’em’s cold,” Katrina said, looking up at Chelsea, then back at Liam before her eyes returned to the screen. He wished she’d drop the attitude already. He continued to bite his tongue, though, not wanting to cause a scene.
“I found the bank,” Clark said, staring through the binoculars. “Two blocks west and another north. The streets seem relatively clear if we hustle.”
Katrina turned off the box, slid it into her backpack, and stood. She pointed at Liam. “You, come here.”
Liam followed her from the room, down the hall, and into another empty room where she clicked on her flashlight.
“Your girlfriend stays.”
“What?”
“She can’t keep up, Liam. We’ve got a line on Adam and need to reach him before he’s gone or dead. That girl’s only gonna slow us down.”
“She said her ankle’s fine.”
“Do you even hear yourself? Where the hell is the Liam I met last year? The one who knew when shit had to get done and didn’t worry about anything other than the most immediate goal.”
“She’s not some stranger, Katrina. She’s a friend.”
“That girl doesn’t give a fuck about you. She’s saying whatever will stroke your ego and keep me from kicking her out of the club.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be so eager to leave her behind.”
Katrina got in Liam’s face, burning her eyes into his. “She’s a liability, Liam. Tell me she’s not.”
He couldn’t lie, and she seized on his silence.
“You want to tell her, or should I?”
“Why don’t we tell her to stay put and we’ll come back for her?”
Katrina smacked her head, turned, and sighed. “We’re not coming back for her, Liam. We’re going to get Adam, then go to The Station so you and Ana can settle down, start a fucking family, or whatever it is you soft people do after you wave your white flag.”
Even though she had smacked her own head, Liam felt the sting as if she had struck him instead. “What’s really bothering you?”
Katrina shook her head and looked away.
Liam grabbed Katrina by the arm. She twisted from his grip and turned her fiery gaze back on him. “I hear you and Ana talking when you think I’m asleep about how you can’t wait to stop fighting and finally settle down somewhere safe.”
“And there’s something wrong with that?”
“I risked everything to break you both out of Hydrangea. I did it because I thought the two of you could help hurt The State, maybe even cure the zombie virus and bring down The Walls.”
“You helped us because you wanted to get away from Sutherland too. Because you knew Ana was in danger, just like you.”
“No,” Katrina shook her head, arms crossed. “I wasn’t in any danger until I helped you.”
“So what? Do you wish that you hadn’t? Are you saying that you weren’t happy to get away from that crazy fuck?” He stared at Katrina in disbelief. “The guy wiped out a city! Men, women, children. You’re OK
with that?”
“I don’t approve of his methods, no, but he’s the only real chance The Patriots have of making genuine change. He’s the first person to come along who isn’t just spouting off at the mouth. You can say plenty about Sutherland, but he’s never been afraid to put words to his thoughts and action to both.”
Liam couldn’t believe his ears. All this time that he and Ana had traveled with Katrina, he had never suspected that she regretted her decision. He couldn’t believe she would condone what Sutherland’s insanity had done to the innocents living inside City 1.
Liam repeated, “He wiped out a city!”
“I’m not arguing with you, Liam. What’s done is done, no matter what I think. Right now we’re going to go out there into the other room, and one of us is going to tell your friend good-bye. Who’s it going to be?”
A loud beeping echoed from the other room.
Katrina and Liam raced back to see Chelsea shoving the screaming bracelet on her right wrist deep into Liam’s jacket in a futile attempt to muffle the racket.
But the bracelet was too loud. It was only a matter of time before it would bring zombies, bandits, and other players to end them. Only moments until Network orbs would surround their bodies to broadcast their imminent death.
“Get out of here!” Katrina screamed, raising her gun at the girl. “Go!”
“No,” she cried, “Please. It’ll stop soon. Please.”
Chelsea’s second “please” sounded so desperate, it tugged at something deep inside Liam. It had no such effect on Katrina. “Go!” Katrina screamed more loudly.
Liam’s heart pounded as he tried to take charge. He thrust himself between the two women, hoping Katrina wouldn’t shoot him in the back.
“Let me see it!” He yanked off the jacket to get a better look at the screeching bracelet. Chelsea’s arm shook as she cried, “Stop it, please, stop the beeping.”
He ran his fingers along the seam, searching for a way to release the bulky contraption. “What is this?”
“They put ’em on all of us. It’s got an alarm that pops off at random.”
“Oh, great!” Katrina said. “Get her out of here!”
“No!” Liam yelled, “I can get it off.”
Clark rushed over, and for a moment, Liam thought Clark would shoot her. Instead, he looked at the bracelet, inspecting it with Liam as the beeping continued screaming in their ears.
“Hold on,” Liam said, “I’m going to get my knife.”
Chelsea nodded, eyes wide, tears painting her face as the death sentence kept screeching its promise. Liam found the blade in his pants pocket as Katrina yanked the girl from his grip, spun her around, and forced her toward the window.
Liam screamed, “Don’t!”
Katrina never stopped, using her momentum to shove Chelsea through the glass.
Liam cried out as the girl disappeared over the ledge to plummet five flights down to the snowy street below.
Liam had his gun aimed at Katrina before he knew what he was doing. “What the fuck!” he cried out.
Just as fast, Clark drew his gun—precisely at no one. He stood roughly between them, his aim hovering somewhere in the middle, clearly nervous about having to choose between them.
Katrina looked the opposite of sorry. She glared at Liam, eyes daring his challenge. She wasn’t even reaching for her gun.
“What?” she snarled. “You weren’t going to do it. Someone had to. Would you rather we all ended up dead?”
Liam had to swallow his desire to pull the trigger and deal with the consequences later. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so suddenly shocked, or mercilessly affronted. He wanted to kill Katrina, not just for what she had done to Chelsea but for how she had so instantly betrayed his trust.
Yet another part of Liam wanted to lower his gun. The weight of Katrina’s stare pressed down on his arm. He didn’t stand a chance. A wrong move, and Clark would have to shoot him dead. But he couldn’t do nothing, so Liam held his aim, same as his stare.
She dared to laugh. “What are you going to do, Liam—shoot me? Really? You couldn’t eliminate an obvious threat, yet you expect me to believe that you’d shoot me down in cold blood. Sure you want to, but you won’t. You can’t. And that right there is the problem.”
Her eyes flitted to the window. “Look outside Liam, and what do you think you’ll see?” She offered no time for an answer. “Zombies dining on your girlfriend’s guts. Those same zombies would be eating us right now if I hadn’t done what I did. Say I’m wrong.”
Liam felt his finger twitching against the trigger, still desperately wanting to pull it. Clark lowered his gun and walked over to Liam. “Put the gun down, man. She’s right. And we all know you’re not going to shoot her.”
They were right: there was no way he would kill Katrina in cold blood. He wasn’t a murderer.
Still, it felt good to hold the gun at her face, to aim at someone who made excuses for monsters like Sutherland and killed the innocent without flinching.
Clark holstered his gun, then, very slowly, set his hand on top of Liam’s weapon and gingerly lowered the barrel.
Chelsea’s bracelet finally stopped screaming outside as Liam put his gun away.
With another angry glare at Katrina, he shouldered by her on his way to the window. Just as she had predicted, Liam saw a small horde of zombies five stories below, painting their faces with Chelsea’s blood. He could imagine the sounds of their feasting.
“It stopped,” he said through gritted teeth. “We could have made it out alive. All we had to do was wait.”
“It stopped because she’s dead. Quit being a fool. Your mercy will get us all killed. Are you on this mission or do you wanna run back to Ana and tell her you gave up?”
Liam looked from Katrina to Clark, then back, rethinking his decision to lower his gun, but deciding to stand down for now.
“After you.” He nodded toward the door. Now that he couldn’t trust her, he wanted her in front of him, where he could keep an eye on her.
Katrina looked as if she was biting back her smirk. Clark looked relieved as he led the way from the room with Katrina behind him. Liam took one final look out the window, feeling heavy and at least partially responsible for the girl’s untimely death. He shook his head and fell into a grim march at the rear, hoping that they found Adam soon so he could kill Katrina and get back to Ana.
As if reading his mind, Katrina said, “Think about it all you want, cowboy. We both know you don’t have the guts.”
CHAPTER 31—ANA LOVECRAFT
Calla fell to the ground and doubled over in pain, trembling as the siren continued to scream its alarm.
“Come on!” the infected man yelled at Ana, still aiming his gun between her eyes. “You said you’d take me out of here.”
“I can’t leave her, she’s . . .”
Ana turned to Calla, suddenly understanding the probable cause for her change. She remembered her own infection stirring inside her like soup rolling to a boil whenever she and Liam came close to the undead. Even now she still felt a deep connection to the zombies, a half year after her supposed curing. What if there was something in her and Calla that reacted directly to the infected? What if this man was initiating the young girl’s change by proximity?
“Go,” Ana yelled, eager to clear him from the room. “Go straight down this hall and make your second right.”
“No,” he said, reaching over and yanking Ana roughly by the hair, “you take me.”
Ana allowed him to pull her, holding her hands high out in front of her as she quickly calculated her choices and realized that she had to act before he took her from the room and away from Calla. “OK, OK.”
After she passed him, Ana dropped to the floor and kicked the man’s leg hard, buckling his knee and sending him to the ground in a screaming heap.
Ana leapt on him before he could react. Instead of going for the gun, she jabbed her fist at the man’s Adam’s apple. He dropped his gu
n and reached for his neck, gasping for air.
Ana grabbed the blaster and, before second-guessing herself, aimed square at his chest and squeezed the trigger. The man’s chest caved in and his organs turned to ash.
She screamed, “Oswald!” Then she rushed to Calla, dropped to the ground beside her, and swiped sweaty hair from the girl’s small face, startled to see her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Calla’s arms and legs spasmed and her head banged against the floor.
Ana slipped her hands beneath Calla’s head, cradling it softly to keep her from busting it like a melon. The girl’s breathing was fast and shallow, like she might start to hyperventilate at any moment. Ana had to calm her, though how could she soothe the child when she herself wanted to yell at someone—anyone—to kill the damned siren?
Ana tried to remember how Liam had managed to calm her at her worst. She drew a blank, though, and lamely sat there, calmly petting the girl’s hair. “It’s OK, it’s OK, Calla. He’s gone now. You’re OK.” Ana tried to sound like she wasn’t scared to her core, terrified that the girl was about to morph into a full-on zombie and either feast on Ana or die by her hand.
“It’s going to be OK,” she promised in whispers, over and over. “Just breathe slow, in and out. Focus on my voice. Nice and slow.”
Calla closed her eyes, wincing as she cried out in pain. “It hurts . . . so much.”
“You’ll be OK,” Ana said, continuing to promise things that she couldn’t deliver. “Just breathe slowly and don’t think about anything you don’t have to. Focus on my voice and think about the things that make you most happy.”
Think about the things that make you most happy? She’s turning into a fucking zombie!
Where the hell is Oswald? COME on!
Ana was desperate to see the doctor, to know he could hear her and was coming to help, but she didn’t dare scream for him again. Calla had finally stopped her violent shaking and seemed to be calming down to a low, steady shudder despite the shrill siren screaming all around them.
“That’s it, nice and slow.” Ana rocked Calla. “You’re doing so good.”
