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Carlie Simmons (Book 5): One Final Mission

Page 10

by JT Sawyer


  “It works better this way, trust me.”

  Carlie leered back at her then resumed her upright posture so Amy could finish applying the dressing. Once the paramedic had finished her wound care, Carlie slowly tried to get her over-shirt and tactical vest back in place. They did a quick inventory of their weapons and ammo count then Carlie examined the contents of the backpack, which was neatly packed with separate padded bundles of C4 and detonators.

  “Great, we can blast our way across Japan. Why couldn’t this have been the comms pack or the spare magazine pack?”

  She stood up and glanced around the area. Carlie had initially scanned the maintenance room upon entering but hadn’t noticed the exit door on the other side and a small crawlspace in the floor. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of old shoeprints in the dust coating the cement floor. Looking back at the dented door behind her where she had loosed the grenade, she didn’t take long to ponder their options.

  “What do you think—door A or B?” She picked up her rifle and walked along the room, stopping at a desk and examining an old photocopied map of the tunnels and subway exits. As she located the route leading to the hospital, she moved up to the door and unlocked the deadbolt. “We would’ve heard movement by now with all my racket if there were pus-brains on the other side.”

  While the rest of her team stacked up in formation behind her with their weapons at a low-ready, Carlie cracked open the heavy steel door. She heard the sound of dripping water emanating from the ceiling. The air was stagnant and musty. Her flashlight revealed steps leading down and a long tunnel to her right. It was smaller than the subway and seemed to be seldom used. Walking down, she followed the footprints around the edge of a metal shelving unit filled with electrical wiring and assorted tools. On the other side, sitting dormant against the slate-gray walls, were two Yamasaki motorcycles. She pivoted back towards the others with a thumbs-up motion of her hand just as she heard the faint crackle of Shane’s voice piercing through her earpiece.

  Chapter 30

  As Shiro maneuvered the speedboat up the mouth of the Yodo River, Shane could clearly make out the cityscape of downtown Osaka. The buildings were remarkably intact but the streets resembled a mass of mile-long black snakes as an unending flood of writhing creatures poured along the surface of the once great city. “My God, I’ve never seen a place hit this hard,” said Shane, who couldn’t pull his eyes away from the undulating current of undead and its implications.

  “I didn’t know there would be so many of these things here.” He leaned forward on the brass railing and then peered back at Shiro, Yoshi, and the other two men accompanying them. He glanced at their weapons with raised eyebrows. “And you’ve all been surviving through this with just swords and pipes?”

  “Nah, spear guns, too,” said Yoshi, smiling and proudly brandishing his tarnished projectile weapon.

  Shane shook his head in wonder while feeling the comfort of his M4 bobbing against his vest. “Whew—and we thought we had it rough when our round count was down on missions,” said Shane. “You are some resourceful motherfuckers.”

  Yoshi looked puzzled at the term until Shiro translated after which the young man continued grinning. He walked beside Shane and pointed out some of the buildings and the location of the hospital to the northeast. “What the hell is that odor? It’s been with us since we left and it ain’t coming from those pus-brains.”

  “They can’t see too good but they can sure smell and hear better than expected,” said Yoshi. “We smear the boats with a combination of fish guts and rotting vegetable skins. It’s worked so far. When we get closer to shore, we don’t talk at all.”

  Shane moved closer and whispered, “Hey, I saw that there was some kind of shrine you had back at the aquaplex—what was that all about?”

  “Ameratsu—the sun goddess. She has watched over us these many months.” Yoshi was eager to talk and awaited Shane’s questions with wide eyes.

  “’Sun goddess, eh—is that Buddhist or what?”

  Yoshi bit his lip as if trying to gather his thoughts before replying. “Religion in Japan is complicated, with people believing lots of different things, and lots of people believing in no one thing in particular. A bit of Shinto here, some Buddhism there, and a little Taoism for good measure.”

  “And what about your boss there?” Shane said, nodding with his chin towards Shiro, who was out of earshot. Shane was still trying to read through the older man’s stoic exterior. “What does he believe in?”

  “Hmm…there is a term: ‘Iki’—it refers to someone who is unique but, in Shiro’s case, it’s more like a nail standing out above the others that needs to be pounded into place. That describes how the Yakuza fit into Japanese culture.”

  “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “I don’t have one—as long as we have lived together since the goryo came, he has been a riddle to even those of us who think we know him well. Shiro belongs to a world that faded long before this one did.”

  Shane glanced back at Shiro, who had turned and caught his look. The two men stared at each other for a moment then Shiro returned to navigating the boat through the passage ahead.

  Twenty minutes later, they arrived near the dock that Shiro had first led his tiny group to during their initial escape from the city. He brought the speedboat to an idle, resting eighty yards away from the shoreline. There was a dock that led down to a set of cement steps near the embankment. Attached to this was a walkway that went on for an eighth of a mile to a round sewer outlet. The grate on the outlet was slightly ajar.

  Shiro pointed to the far end of the dock to a sailboat. “That was not here before—maybe your friends are alive after all.”

  Shane grinned and unslung his rifle. “Hell, yeah.”

  Chapter 31

  “You sure you know where you’re going?” said Eliza as she followed Jared along the tunnel beneath the city’s waterfront. She was still too dizzy from her concussion to take the lead and she wasn’t sure if her splitting headache was entirely from her injury or the grating irritation of knowing Jared was in charge.

  As they rounded a corner in the passage, he squatted down and peered around the side. From the light cast by his rifle-mounted flashlight, he saw the open door of an old storage room.

  Jared rubbed his shoulder. “Sure hope that vaccine that Pavel gave me wasn’t a fucking placebo—those don’t work well on zombie bites, I hear.”

  “Can we keep moving—we’ve got a rendezvous with a sub later, remember.”

  “Hey, let me ask you something,” said Jared. “You ever seen that movie Sister Streetfighter with karate bad-ass Sonny Chiba?”

  Eliza frowned. “Really—this is what’s going through your head?” She sighed, nudging him with her hand to keep moving ahead. “What kinda title is that, anyway?”

  “It’s one of those cult-classic flicks you love to hate. Maybe I’ll track down a bootleg copy sometime and show you.”

  “Uh—I’ll pass, thanks. Sounds like two hours of my life that would be swept away forever.”

  Jared rested the rifle on his chest sling and pulled out his compass. “Looks like we’re still heading east which should put us on track for the underbelly of the hospital in about another half mile.”

  “Shh—you hear that?” she said, nodding with her chin behind her.

  He grabbed her sleeve and motioned for her to follow him over to a room whose door was ajar. After making sure it was clear they turned off their lights and squatted to either side of the doorframe, holding their rifles ready at the approaching sound of footfalls echoing off the cement walls.

  Both of them had their index fingers extended above the triggers on their suppressed M4s, waiting to unleash hell upon whatever was headed their way. The sound of footsteps increased in tempo followed by flashlight beams bouncing off the tunnel.

  As the four figures came into view, Jared and Eliza flipped on their flashlights in response, illuminating Shane and four Japanese with
drawn swords.

  “Damn, I told you I smelled the aroma of cheap rum and cigars earlier,” said Jared, who was peering down the tunnel hoping Amy’s face would emerge.

  Eliza and Shane ran forward to embrace each other, the young woman being swallowed up by Shane’s bear hug. Jared leaned over and the two men locked forearms and leaned in to pat each other while their smiles filled the narrow passage.

  “I didn’t know if I’d see you all again—where’s Carlie and Matias and the others?”

  Jared shook his head and leaned a hand on the wall. “We were swept away and holed up under the dock until we could get a boat. Don’t know where the rest ended up, even Amy...you haven’t heard anything from her, I take it?”

  “I only picked up Carlie in my earmic for a few seconds, early on—said she was heading with her group down the subway to the hospital. She sounded pretty bad.”

  Shane realized his friends were looking at the four Japanese behind him. He stepped to the side and made introductions.

  “Any of ’em savvy English?” said Jared.

  “Who is this guy?” said Yoshi in an irritated voice.

  “There’s no explaining,” chuckled Shane. “But no mission would be complete without him.”

  “Come, we go this way for another five hundred and twelve paces and then we arrive at hatch under hospital,” said Shiro, who had moved past the others and commenced leading the way.

  “Talkative fellow,” said Jared.

  “He and his people found me adrift after the plane crash. Seem like good folks and there’s no knowledge like local knowledge. That will give us an edge on getting back to the sub when they surface in...” he glanced down at his watch with raised eyebrows “...less than eight hours.”

  The three of them pushed on behind the others, whispering the exchanges of their different ordeals as they faded further into the bowels under Osaka.

  After twenty minutes of travel through a tangle of passages, they arrived at the terminus of the tunnel. Before them was a round floor-to-ceiling grate. Shiro removed a key from a pocket lanyard and unlocked the heavy padlock and chains securing the grate. As he pulled it open, creaking on its rusty hinges, he pointed to a vertical shaft in the ceiling.

  “That leads into the laundry room of the hospital which is two subfloors beneath the main building—that area is without goryo. From there it’s four floors to the area you described but I don’t know how many will be up there as it’s been a few months since we’ve come to this place.”

  Shane walked ahead towards the hatch entrance and peered up at the shaft. “Alright, let’s get crackin’. We get the device then rescue the rest of our people and get the hell out of here. Your bunch at the aquaplex should be on their way to the sub by then.”

  While the others kept watch, Shiro moved closer and put his hand on the hilt of his sword. “The worst is yet to come. The evil that infects this land is like no other that I think you’ve seen and I know you have seen much.”

  The Yakuza warrior thought back to the loss of his brother a year ago in these same tunnels. He glanced back at Shane. “I know you are intent on rescuing your group, if they are still alive, but you cannot always save those you love, Shane-san. Sometimes, our own lives are spared for reasons beyond our understanding.”

  “I will find them and get what we came for—that’s just the way I see things,” said Shane, who reached up with both his hands and pulled himself into the vertical passage.

  “You Americans,” said Shiro, shaking his head while muttering, “Always believing that might will overrule your destiny and anything else in your way.”

  “Pff—that was your Emperor’s entire fucking motto during World War Two as I recall.”

  “You mistake destiny for willpower but I can see which one controls your path.”

  Chapter 32

  The two motorcycles sped along the dim passage, running parallel to a narrow set of railway tracks that had been formerly used by maintenance workers. Amy was driving the lead bike while Carlie was clutching Amy’s back. Hadley manned the rear one with Matias behind him. Carlie’s heart was racing faster than the RPMs of the machine beneath her after dwelling on the sweet sound of Shane’s voice a few minutes earlier, as fleeting as it was. I knew he made it! The headlights shone off the filthy walls, some covered in dried blood splotches, the only new graffiti of the subterranean world. As the motorcycles crunched over bone fragments and mandibles, they rounded the last bend in the tunnel and saw four zombies milling ahead near a small hand-operated railcar before some steps. Amy sped up and rammed the rebar skewers into the first one which stood out from the others. The beast was run through but continued flailing its arms at her while its entrails spilled onto the tire.

  She came to an abrupt halt before the remaining three and then hopped off the bike with her machete while Carlie did the same. Amy sliced through the skull of a dainty creature clad in shredded coveralls, the spray from its head resembling a mist of pink champagne in the glow of the headlight. Carlie whacked the other zombie straight through the neck, sending its head rolling into the oncoming path of Hadley’s bike. The navigator stopped while Matias steadied the rig. Hadley ran his fixed blade into the lower jaw of the last zombie, its tip piercing the base of the brain and causing it to collapse at his feet.

  Carlie and the others stood with their blades ready while sweeping along the stairs and the corner behind them.

  “Where did these things come from?” said Hadley.

  “Maybe some stragglers from the service workers trapped down here,” said Amy. She picked up Carlie’s pack off the handlebars of the bike and slung it over her shoulder.

  Carlie had resheathed her blade and was studying the crude map from earlier. “This is the end of the line, it seems. From here, we go up and enter an administrative building and then the hospital should only be a few blocks away.”

  “Will we have time to stop for some sushi?” whispered Matias, trying not to chuckle.

  Carlie moved up alongside him and wrapped her good arm around him. “You gonna be up for some runnin’ and gunnin’ again, mi amigo?”

  “My two favorite things in life.”

  “Carlie, why don’t you let me and Hadley scout the area up top first.”

  She nodded in approval to Amy then helped Matias over to the wall where they both slid down to rest. The other two stalked up the stairs and slowly entered the lobby above.

  “Looks like you’re gonna have another cool tattoo,” said Matias, pointing to her shoulder.

  “Yeah, I’d like to put an end to that habit.”

  “Hey, can I ask you something seeing as how we cripples are just hanging out for a bit?”

  “Anytime—you know that.”

  “You and my boy Shane doin’ OK? I noticed you two barely looked at each other on the flight over.”

  Carlie blew a strand of blond hair off her nose then lowered her chin. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  “I’ve known him a long time and he still walks with the same swagger he had when I first met him—the guy who’s used to getting what he wants.” He looked up at her with a slight smile. “Only now he has everything he’s ever wanted from a woman and he’s worried he might lose it all—lose you. I don’t think he knows how to do well at the ordinary, everyday stuff, you know.”

  “Yeah, I do know. Hell, I’m not always sure I can hack living with a routine and four walls around me.”

  “He didn’t tell you about this mission before the briefing, did he?”

  Carlie opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by Matias. “I saw your face before—and after you walked into the meeting.” Matias tucked his thumb under his rifle strap and looked ahead at the gray tunnel for a long minute. “I say we crucify that squid’s ass when we see him.”

  Carlie chortled and tried to contain her laughter, pressing her mouth into her elbow while Matias wheezed out a pathetic chuckle in between wincing.

  “You can be in line right behind me,
” she said, helping him to his feet as Amy and Hadley returned from the lobby.

  “You’re not gonna believe what’s out there,” said Amy.

  Chapter 33

  Once they had passed through the empty sub-levels in the hospital, Shane led them up the stairwell to the fourth floor. He could see the characteristic blood spray on the walls from the action of Shiro’s sword during previous visits, as if a water balloon filled with red dye had been flung against the surface.

  “One thing I noticed is that you don’t seem to have any fast-moving mutants mixed into the crowds on the street—you ever run across those?” said Eliza to Shiro, who looked puzzled.

  “Only goryo—enough of them to worry about.”

  “How many blades have you gone through?” said Jared.

  Shiro tilted his head up and darted his eyes around, contemplating the question. “Don’t remember.” He held up his sword, letting his headlamp glint off the edge. “This weapon is a good friend. Most blades will last for four hundred goryo.”

  Jared’s eyes went wide.

  “But metal pipe not as messy,” said Yoshi with a grin as he tapped his jacket by his side, revealing the thunk of a solid object. Naoki and Yamiko, who understood English better than they spoke it, muttered in agreement and brandished their soiled weapons with pride.

  “Damn, you folks put me to shame—the only time I get my machete in hand is when my rifle’s done coughin’ up bullets,” Jared replied. He leaned over Eliza’s shoulder while whispering, “Any money these guys have seen Sister Streetfighter.”

  Eliza shook her head in disgust. “Don’t even mention that or they’ll run you through.”

  Shane motioned for them to stop and turn off their headlamps. He cracked open the fire exit door on the fourth floor, the sunlight filtering in through side rooms revealing his targets. Shane raised four fingers up on his left hand. Jared and Eliza pressed past the others and moved up alongside their leader. Shane gave them knowing looks as they both positioned themselves on one knee beside each other with their suppressed rifles in low-ready. Shane swung open the door as the three of them delivered precision rounds into the unaware creatures. Their corpulent figures collapsed instantly and the three shooters swept into the hallway and began firing rounds into the zombies in the nearest rooms, whose doors were open. It was a tightly orchestrated movement, rushing into the entrances, dispatching their targets, and bolting down the hallway to the next room.

 

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