Orpheus

by DeWitt, Dan

  "Lena, let's go."

  She was confused. Why wasn't she, at the very least, on the ground? "With you? And them? Why? Where?"

  "Jesus, you're infuriating. To the roof. Them you can trust. Can we please walk now?" He held out a hand. She didn't sense any threat behind it. It felt more like a request for her trust.

  It was kind of...sweet.

  She took his hand and thought, What on Earth am I thinking right now?

  Trager held her hand for a brief moment, then furrowed his brow. "Why are your hands wet?"

  "It's just toilet water." He let go and wiped his hand on his pants. "Don't ask."

  "Well, dry off and take this." He handed her a pistol and started walking.

  She fell in step beside him and behind Scythe. "Are-are we in danger?"

  "You, me, everyone else alive on this island. Shhh."

  "What?"

  "They're about five minutes out," one of the Scythe agents said, just as they'd reached the roof access stairs.

  Trager stopped and grabbed Lena's arm. He dropped his voice into a whisper. "I heard Tim's transmission. Unfortunately, everyone else did, too. The first thing I did was check what he was saying. I had this little two dollar POS radio in my desk. You know what the first thing I heard was? Rush Limbaugh. That's enough to put me in a bad mood on a normal day, let alone on a day when you find out that the world hasn't been overtaken by zombies as you were led to believe."

  "You really didn't know?"

  "I really didn't."

  "And the rescue attempt really was a rescue attempt? You didn't just want Mutt?"

  "I wanted both. Mutters may hold the key to a cure. I don't want to sound heartless, but he's going to die anyway. I'd think he'd rather do it to save people a world of grief and not walk around eating brains. But it's a good thing that Holt...and you...didn't trust me. If you had, we'd probably all be dead."

  "So who-"

  "Four minutes out."

  Lena said, "Wait here," and headed back the way they'd just come.

  "Lena!"

  "Just wait!" She disappeared around a corner.

  Trager said to his feet, "I'm gonna friggin' kill that broad, I swear..."

  Her absence lasted about two minutes. When she reappeared, she was frantically fiddling with her spare laptop. "What are you doing?"

  "This is everything I have on your...not your...operation. People need to see this."

  "I thought you flushed it."

  She smiled. "I wouldn't be a very good spy. I forgot about the SD card. That should still work." She handed him a card, no larger than a postage stamp, but capable of holding more information on it than entire hard drives could a decade previous, and he slid it into his pocket. "I wish I had time to make more copies."

  "Sixty seconds."

  "Shit. Let's go." He led them up the stairs at a run. "We're outmanned and outgunned, so this has to happen fast and brutal. Lena, get behind something and help out where you can. I wish you didn't have to do this."

  He opened the door. The helicopter was close, no more than twenty seconds from touching down. They took up positions that would afford them some good cover.

  It sank in for Lena that she was about to have a life-and-death gun battle, and she still wasn't entirely sure what was going on.

  Trager pointed to his other escort. He had to yell to be heard over the rotors. "On his signal! Not me! Him! Everyone on that helicopter but Mutters is fair game!"

  Lena didn't know if that last order was in deference to her, but she thought not. Mutt was important to her, but he was just as important to Martin, although for a different reason. She glued her eyes to the Scythe agent who would be making the signal. I don't even know their names, she thought. The skids made contact with the helipad, and still he waited. She perceived a change in the sound of the rotors, then two occupants jumped out. They worked with the two men in the helicopter to remove a heavy-looking bundle. One of them lost their grip and dropped the bundle to the helipad, where it began squirming, despite being bound hand, feet, shoulders, and knees. One of the men kicked it repeatedly in the stomach.

  Mutt, she thought with horror. That's Mutt.

  "Now!" the agent yelled. He jumped up and began firing. The other agent and Trager were a second behind him. Lena, who up until a few seconds ago hadn't been sure she could shoot at a person, followed suit, the image of Mutt being manhandled and kicked like a bad dog burned into her mind. Those two men were the first to drop. The pilot and the other occupant used the helicopter for cover and returned fire. One of Trager's men made himself visible for a second and drew their fire. Trager and Lena helped him out while the other agent flanked them.

  Lena's pistol stopped firing. The hammer was back, the slide was locked open. She'd seen enough TV to know that meant it was out of ammo.

  A few seconds later, it was over. They never saw the other agent, and he killed them with four accurate shots. He motioned for them to join him and started to climb into the pilot's seat just before blood exploded from his chest. He tottered for a second, then just crumpled backwards out of the seat.

  "Tate!" Trager yelled.

  Six more Scythe agents, not friendly to Trager as the others had been, cornered them. Another man, partially obscured by the helicopter, reached into the cockpit and killed the engine. Lena followed his feet under the helicopter, but she already knew who it was. If Trager had nothing to do with this, and there was no doubt about that now, there were only two people with the juice to be in charge. Anders, who wasn't even here, or...

  "That's better," Dr. Vincent said, digging a finger into his ear. "You were really close, Martin. If they'd been one minute earlier..."

  "I can't believe I didn't see this."

  "See what, Martin? That I'm a supervillain? Please. I'm a scientist first, but I'm also a businessman. This was an opportunity to be both, and I wasn't going to let that slip away."

  "Scientist, yeah. Fucking ghoul is more like it."

  "You should thank your lucky stars that I am a man of science, young lady. It was that curiosity that has kept you and your friends alive this long. You were all supposed to be dead early; all of the simulations suggested that the island would be devoid of living inhabitants within 10 days at the outside. Either through luck, Providence, or stubbornness, you all survived." He paused when he heard the distant whupwhupwhup of the second helicopter, the one presumably with Orpheus on it. "I wanted to see how far you could come, what you could accomplish under the most adverse circumstances man has ever known. I mean this with total sincerity: I'm impressed by all of you."

  Lena didn't hear the compliment. All she heard was an echo of Trager yelling the dead pilot's name.

  Tate.

  At least Lena had a name to mourn the pilot with. She scratched absentmindedly at the top of her head and wondered if anyone would be left to mourn her.

  Chapter 23: Reloading

  Ethan's staring out the window was only occasionally interrupted by a bout of nervous pacing. "So why can't we go pick him up?"

  Tim put down the pistol he had just finished cleaning and steepled his hands in front of his face, trying to project his calm on Cameron's Holt's son. "Because we only have a rough idea where they might be, and because we'll draw attention to all of us by being the only moving car on this island. They're practically invisible without us. They'll get here. Try to relax a little."

  "Hmmmph," Ethan said, and resumed staring.

  "Sucks, doesn't it?" Rachel said from the same table, where Tim was teaching her to clean another pistol. "Being scared shitless for someone you love? It doesn't look fun."

  "Whoa, look at the time," Tim said, and walked into the next room where the others were trying to get some rest.

  Ethan and Rachel watched him leave. Ethan said, "Do we have to go through this again? Rachel, I'm sorry. But I made the right decision. Look at what we know now."

  "We could have learned it together. You were nearly killed."

  "I wasn't-"r />
  "You could have been and should have been. You were lucky. And I never would have even known what happened to you!"

  He walked over to the table, bent down, and put his arms around her. "Okay. Lesson learned. We do everything together."

  "You'd better."

  "Promise."

  "Lights."

  "Lights?"

  "Headlights."

  Ethan ran to the window and watched the two orbs cut through the darkness as the compact car weaved in between the old-style speaker poles. He unlocked the door as the car, a beat-up brown Gremlin, pulled close to the building. Two gun-toting men got out.

  Neither one of them was his father.

  Ethan grabbed the pistol from the table and ran outside. Rachel yelled for Tim, grabbed the other pistol (she hoped she'd put it back together correctly) and followed her boyfriend outside.

  He aimed at them and yelled, "Where's my father?"

  They threw their hands in the air. "Whoa, Ethan, relax."

  "Where the fuck is my dad?" Ethan said again.

  "Shit, Sam what was the movie?"

  "It was uh, uh, fuck I can't think with a gun in my face!"

  "You'll get a bullet in your face in a second if you don't-"

  Tim appeared behind Ethan and put a hand on his shoulder. "They're okay. Hey, guys."

  "Bait!" Fish said. Sam only smiled at him.

  "Where's Orpheus?"

  "He's alive."

  Ethan had heard Tim's endorsement but still hadn't lowered his gun. "What exactly does that mean?"

  Fish kept nervously looking side to side. "Can we get inside? I'm feeling real exposed out here."

  "Tell me why I should trust you."

  "Because he vouched for us?"

  "I barely trust him. No offense, Tim."

  "Oh, none taken."

  "X-Men."

  "What?

  "That's what your dad told us to tell you," Sam said. "X-Men. That was the first movie you had your Eleven o' Clock Special."

  Ethan swallowed. It was true; they'd been with his father. He decided that he had much more to lose by not trusting them, so he clicked the safety and dropped the gun to his side. "Okay." He passed his eyes over their car. "Awesome ride."

  Sam seemed confused by the statement, then looked back at the idling rustbucket. "Oh, that. We had to pop-start it, but it has a full tank of gas. Let's just leave it running in case we need it."

  "Fair enough."

  "But we did bring gifts." Fish reached into the back seat and pulled out five rifles. Orpheus and Mutt had given theirs up when they'd parted. Fish slung four over his right shoulder, and offered up the fifth to its previous owner. "This one's yours, bait."

  "Janice!" Tim took the weapon and slung it over his shoulder.

  "Janice?" Ethan asked.

  "First love. Sixth grade. The others have names for theirs, and that's what I came up with."

  "Actually," Fish said, "I may have made that up."

  Tim's smile faltered a little, then grew even wider. "It's so good to see you guys that I'm going to forget how much of a dick you are."

  "Come on in." Ethan took the door from Sister Ann who, along with Harold and Jason, had been woken by the short-lived ruckus. He held it open for his guests, then locked and barricaded it again. They did the introductions, the warmest of which was the reunion between Tim and his two teammates. Ethan watched this closely; at that point, he decided that he could trust them. He motioned to the snack bar. "There's a lot more in the back. Help yourselves. Then we need to talk."

  "Oh, this is totally where we should have come first," Fish said as he grabbed handfuls of candy. "Totally." He went out of his way to stand next to Rachel. "How you doin'?"

  "I'm still trying to get the blood from all of the zombies I've killed out of my hair."

  "Hey, I can help with that. Is there a shower around here?"

  Ethan heard and took a step toward the table, but Rachel had it under control. She playfully dragged a fingertip up and down his forearm. "Ooooh, I'm wicked tempted. But," she held her hand parallel a little over six feet off of the floor and looked over at Ethan, "you have to be this tall to ride this ride."

  Instead of getting offended, Fish laughed. "Damn height. It's what keeps me from being perfect. Please tell me you have an older, shorter sister. Even if you don't."

  "Now she'd definitely like you. If I had one."

  "Works for me."

  Ethan turned away and smiled. These guys are all right.

  Sam was still rummaging through the snack bar. He drained a bottle of water and grabbed another. "Got anything a little, I don't know, healthier?" Sam asked.

  "Sure, let me go talk to the chef," Harold joked.

  "Harold."

  "Sorry, Sister. I think there's a case of freeze-dried fruit in storage."

  "Perfect."

  Jason offered to show him where it was, and Sam gratefully followed.

  Ethan pushed two tables together and started to fill the space around it with chairs. "Sister?" He motioned for her to join him.

  While she helped him move the chairs, he asked, "So, what do you think?"

  She stopped and leaned against the chair in her hand. "I think that not only can they be trusted, not only are they battle-tested, but your father is important to them, as well. I think that God just sent us what we needed."

  He nodded. "I agree. I just needed an opinion that's far enough away from everything to be rational."

  Jason and Sam returned from the storage rooms. Sam had an armful of dried fruit. "Now this is more like it."

  Ethan grabbed an order pad and a pen, then rapped his knuckles on the table loudly. "Okay, everyone get comfortable."

  The eight of them sat down, and Ethan served as chairperson. "We need a plan. You guys have information that I need to rescue my dad, but we can't have any secrets here. Something's happened that I don't think you two have any clue about. You didn't happen to listen to the radio on the way here, did you?"

  "Funny you should bring that up. That piece of shit has a Blaupunkt that's worth more than the damn car. Or had, anyway. The owner took it with him."

  "Right. What I'm about to tell you is about the worst thing I've ever heard of, but it's actually good news." He filled them in. Sam, who struck Ethan as the calm one, stayed in character and kept quiet, although he visibly stiffened when Ethan got to hearing the broadcast. Fish also kept quiet, and that was unexpected. Ethan thought that it might be because of shock.

  After it had sunk in, Fish said, "Unfuckingbelievable. All of these people died for what?"

  "We're still trying to figure that out. Now tell me about my father. I already know everything that Tim knows."

  Sam started with, "Most damn foolish man that I've ever met. But he saved our lives. Again." He continued.

  When he was done, everyone waited for Ethan to say something, but Rachel could see that he was having trouble. "So, you think he's still alive?"

  "He's gotta be," Sam said. "They wanted Mutt for sure. If they wanted to kill Orpheus...sorry, Cameron...they could have just shot him from a nice, safe altitude. They need Mutt alive because he's the lab rat, but your dad? I think that one might be personal, which means we have to get to him fast."

  "So let's list our assets, formulate a plan, and go get him."

  "And Lena," Tim added. "We're not leaving her behind."

  "Of course."

  "It's not that simple."

  All eyes went to Ann.

  "There are two missions now. Your father is a priority..."

  "Is the priority, you mean."

  "No, he's not. You wanted my opinion on these two because I'm not emotionally invested in what you're invested in. There's a bigger issue here. People have to know what's going on here. We all have to accept the possibility that we might not live through a rescue attempt. If that happens, the truth of whatever happened here dies forever, and it will just happen again to someone else."

  "We were already pla
nning on that, Sister," Tim offered. "After we break our friends out and burn the rest to the ground."

  Ethan heartily concurred with that sentiment.

  "I'm no military strategist," Ann continued, "but I play a lot of chess. And no matter how good you are, if you tip your strategy too early, you'll lose."

  "What are you saying, Sister?" Jason asked.

  "We have to split up."

  "Nope. Not happening," Ethan said.

  Harold said, "She's got a point. If we go to the hospital first, we could all die and never get to broadcast. If we broadcast first, we'll, well I guess we might lose the element of surprise, because no one has any idea that we even exist. We can probably do both, but only if we do them at the same time."

  Ethan was insistent. "We are not splitting up."

  "I can't believe I'm saying this, but the nun's right."

  "Thank you, Samuel."

  "The last time a nun called me Samuel she was rapping me across the knuckles, but you're welcome."

  Ethan knew that he had lost. Worse, he knew that it made sense. "Does anyone disagree?"

  If anyone did, they didn't say so.

  "Okay. I don't like it, but okay. Rachel, you take Ann, Harold, and Jason..."

  "Try again. We already went through this."

  "Rachel, I'm not kidding. Zombies are one thing, but zombies and guys with guns? No way, they need you."

  Rachel was adamant. "So do you."

  Fish said, "Let me just cut you off right there, sport. She stays with you."

  "Who are you to tell me where she goes?"

  "Who are you to tell her? There are two couples here, and neither one should be split up."

  Jason threw his hands up. "Were we ever fooling anybody?"

  "No!" everyone but Harold said in unison.

  Fish hammered his point home. "I'd like to be chivalrous, too, especially because I need her to put a good word in for me to her sister, but if she goes one way and you go the other, all you'll be doing is worrying about your dad and her. You'll be worse than useless to us. You'll get us all killed."

  "The boys and I can handle the radio. You just worry about the hospital."

  "Absolutely not, Ann. You don't even have guns..."