“Destiny!” Eric yelled, now off to her left. “That's the perfect position for you to be in! Stay right there girlie and I'll reward you with making sure we get out of this alive.”
Destiny sliced through a few more zombies. It wasn't difficult to kill these guys but there were so damn many of them that her telepathic powers were fading. She did understand what Eric was saying however. He had a left hand so to have her fighting just off to his right made a lot of sense. As she nodded and said, “And here I thought you would reward me with a kiss!” she saw him switch his sword to his left hand from the air. That way she figured he could sword fight without using constant telepathy. She knew if he conserved that he would have plenty of power left for a long time. “How long do you think until we start cutting through them? It seems like we'll never get on top of their numbers!”
“We won't!” Eric said with a scowl, “We wouldn't if you and prisoner boy there stuck around. You need to leave!”
Destiny was so shocked that she dropped her guard and almost allowed a zombie in too close. She looked at him briefly before resuming her defensive fighting, “You want me to leave you here?”
“Fucking better not!” Eric said as he continued to successfully take out an all-out assault on the zombies. “I want you and pretty boy there to warm up the gun in the truck. I'll make a wide path through them, join you in the truck and then we use the big ass gun to clean up the mess!”
It was brilliant of course. She scowled as she helped the soldier stand up, “Why didn't you say that thirty minutes ago?”
Eric yelled, “Because I just thought of it. That's why I wanted you on that side. It makes your path to the truck and the door a tad easier. Get going! Honk or something when you get there so I'll know when to blow a path open for myself!”
Destiny shook her head and shoved the soldier forward towards the truck. Before she took two steps she heard the prisoner squealing. Looking around she saw a dozen zombies between the two of them and the truck. Not for the first time she wondered if it wouldn't have been a decent idea to unbind at least one arm and let the soldier fire a gun at least. She figured she would be able to defend herself if the fool was fool enough to attack her. It didn't matter right then however because she didn't have time to do anything but leap in front of the soldier and start fighting off zombies.
She knew well that her telepathic abilities were weakened for the moment and that she would have to get another huge hit of stims once they were safely in the truck so it was all about her sword and her so-called god-given talents. By the time she got squared to the zombies, they were coming at her in a half circle. She was confident in her overall ability to get through them to the truck but then how would she get the truck out the door when there were at least a dozen more between the truck and the door? Clearly this was not going to be the easy task that Eric apparently thought it would be. “Eric!” she said as she kicked the zombie directly in front of her in the chin, “This is going to take some time! Might want to think of a plan B if time is important!”
Other than hearing a clear expletive, she couldn't concentrate on what all Eric was doing. The zombie she kicked in the chin had fallen backwards onto two others. She swiftly sliced through the neck of two on her right while stretching her leg out to kick one on her left in the chin as well. Thanks to the fallen zombies there was a lot of stumbling going on. That was the good thing about the mindless variety at least; they were as dumb as a hammer most of the time.
One found its way over the pile and to her and she stabbed it right in the heart. Destiny felt her sword hang up in the thing's rib cage so instead of abandoning the idea of using her sword until she could jerk it out of the zombie, she used a two-hand grip and heaved the zombie across in front of her. His body slammed into three that had gone around the pile. Those three fell to the far right as three more were coming directly towards her. The body of the zombie stuck on her sword had turned and was starting to slide but she still had time to use him.
Dragging him around in front of her she used the sideways sliding body to block the next three zombies from getting to her. Besides delaying their attack, it also served to get the three of them all in a nice row. Finally when they succeeded in pulling the body of the stabbed zombie off of her sword, they still were somewhat stuck for a moment too long. She used her suddenly free sword to slice through all three of their necks then stepped forward and in a downward slice to remove the head of the one who had previously been stuck on her sword. Whatever Eric was doing, she hoped he was at least holding the zombies off while she tried to get to the damn truck.
**
Eric heard the warning from Destiny and knew that he had either to stall the legions of zombies for a while longer, which meant finding a much different way of fighting them, or give up and go to a different plan. There were two problems with that. He really liked his first plan and he had no plan B. That left only the fact that he was going to have to come up with another way of keeping back the masses. Sure he was as strong telepathically as anyone ever but even he would eventually wear down under the stress of fighting this many of the zombie bastards.
He stuck with wielding his sword in his left hand and using wide ranging telepathic shoves to keep them away. There were enough dying at his hand that he could literally begin to stand on top of the bodies but there were so many more yet to come at him. Between sword strikes and shoves he began to search for something, anything that could assist him. After a long swipe towards his right, he turned slightly and finally saw exactly what he needed. Literally, saws were what he needed. Along the far wall there were several huge saw-blades hanging by simple hooks. They were at least twenty-four inches in diameter and sharp enough to cut a tree trunk into slices. He smiled widely as he began to gather his strength. This was going to be fun after all.
When he finally knew he had enough strength built up to do what he needed to do telepathically, it couldn't have come at a more perfect moment. Fighting hand to hand was something he had always been good at. He was still good but not nearly as comfortable after losing his right hand. It wasn't as if he'd had time to put into sparring or anything like that. All of his focus had been on gathering and gaining telepathic strength. At this moment he could not be more glad that he did that.
As the zombies began to close in on him from all sides, he actually could hear the commotion where Destiny was getting worse. She was in some bit of trouble as well. Who could have thought that an ass-load of regular old zombies would be such a headache? It wouldn't matter soon as long as he did this correctly. If he did not do it right then he could also kill himself and Destiny but there was no time to second guess.
First he had to get enough of the zombies off of him to be able to concentrate. He kicked two of them to his left away and then did the same to the ones on his right. He began to lift one of the saw-blades off of the wall slowly but he could not quite get it where he needed it because of the massive zombie horde. Finally he had to make a decision and take a risk. About ten feet to his left stood one of the mammoth devices that had been used by this place to slice up trees. He dropped his hold on the saw-blade, allowing it to fall back onto the hook and began to fight his way over there.
Heads rolled on a second by second basis as he sliced his way through the thick crowd of zombies. He didn't worry about the ones jumping onto his back and clawing at him until they started to weigh him down. Then he would quickly either throw them off or slice off their heads. It took a good few minutes but felt like hours for Eric to reach the large machine. When he did, he grabbed a zombie from his back, slung him in a circle to get the rest of the zombies off of him and jumped onto the machine.
Once there he put his sword away and reached his arms towards the saw-blade on the wall. With a twist of his hand and in his telepathic hold on the blade, it began to spin. Faster and faster he spun it as the zombies began to climb onto the machine over the backs of the ones not smart enough to simply hop up there. Even Eric tended to get dis
tracted by attacking zombies but he had to focus on the saw-blade only for a minute. During that time he would just have to trust that the damage done by the zombies would be something that would heal.
When the blade was spinning fast he lifted it off of the hook and allowed it to spin all alone in midair. There were two zombies clawing at his back, one riding his back and clawing at his head and three trying to drag him down by pulling at his legs. He tried to yell loud enough to be heard, “Destiny and prisoner boy, hit the deck now!”
“What? I can't just,” Destiny started and then apparently saw the spinning saw-blade before finishing, “Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me! Down!”
Eric didn't have the ability to say anything because when he warned them, the zombie clawing at his head stuck his hand in Eric's mouth. Other than biting down and trying not to swallow the fingers that snapped off of the undead monster, Eric did nothing. Finally he sent the spinning blade through the area around the truck, trying to feel in the air of the warehouse where the large vehicle was. Zombies would be easy to hit. He'd just avoid the truck and know that zombies were everywhere else.
No machine was turning the saw-blade so when it struck flesh, even zombie flesh, the guts and blood could be heard being torn and ripped apart. Eric smiled and spit the zombie fingers out as he heard more and more zombies being sliced into by the blade. He moved it around the truck and then back and forth. When that had gone on for long enough he heard the door open and shut. Destiny was thankfully smart enough to know that the truck was the safest place to be once the zombies and the saw-blade were not immediately around.
“Move the blade towards you! Clear a path and make a run for it. Jesus,” she exclaimed, “Where the fuck are you?” Eric heard the voice of the O.A. soldier say 'right there' and Destiny followed with, “Oh my god. Yeah, I see where he is.”
Eric tried to pay no attention to the zombies climbing around and on him so that he could easily control the saw-blade. He moved it towards him and back and forth. He couldn't be sure how far each way he was slicing with the blade but he knew a lot of zombie flesh was being carved and that made him smile. With his eyes still closed he decided that he could finally take a leap off of the machine but when he went to move his leg, it felt like the leg weighed a thousand pounds. He opened his eyes to see what how his path looked and heard the saw-blade drop to the ground. He could see only pitch black darkness.
**
Destiny shook her head at the sight in front of her. In the short time she had been on the side of Eric, she had never seen anything like this.
“Is he even fucking alive in there?”
Destiny didn't look at the soldier but said, “Shut the fuck up and get that gun ready to fire like he said. You know, the big fucking gun!”
“Yes, ma'am!”
The truth of the matter was that she didn't know what condition Eric was in. There was no way to know because she couldn't see him. All she saw was the wide path his amazing saw-blade trick had carved for him and a massive pile of zombies. They were all crawling over each other the way they sometimes did and had created a large ball of zombies roughly three or four yards in diameter on top of the machine. When the saw-blade dropped she assumed the worst. She was still assuming the worst but then again this wasn't some normal human out there in the middle of a massive wad of zombies. This was Eric Bayne.
“Should I shoot?”
This time she did spare a glance at the soldier, “Are you fucking crazy? You are not shooting that weapon at Eric or the wad of zombies around him unless you want me to gag you with your large intestines.”
The soldier's face soured a bit and he said, “Uh, yes ma'am. Got it. I'll fire on your command.”
Destiny nodded her approval but then the soldier's face changed again. He looked more afraid than he had since they had bound him in the first place back beside the main road. She shook her head, “What? What now?” He said nothing but just shook his head and pointed out the windshield of the truck.
She looked around, following his finger and saw the pile of zombies had grown larger still but that wasn't the scary thing about it. The entire ball was beginning to shake and tremble like a massive hand was shaking them around in its' palm. Without saying so, she wondered if this was it. Was Eric finally going to bite the bullet and be unable to get out. Then again, who could get out of that ball? Her answer came in the next second.
With all of the glamor of a perfectly crafted explosion, the giant ball of zombies suddenly seemed to crush inward and then literally explode. She didn't see any spark or fire but that was an explosion if she had ever seen one. Standing in the middle of the explosion was a man who was clearly at times not very human at all. His hair seemed to be a shade lighter and his face held an expression of serenity. That was where the feel-good part stopped. His clothing was in tatters and there were sores all over him where the zombies had clawed through his shirt or pants and into his flesh. His arms were held out wide to the side and he was standing perfectly straight and still with his eyes closed tight.
Suddenly the warehouse seemed somehow lit up as Eric lifted himself up from the machine telepathically. He was actually floating over towards the truck while keeping the exact same pose that he had held to blow the zombies off of him. At first she wondered if he was showing off by floating over. Apparently the soldier thought that too once he found his voice.
“Fucking, no fucking way he just did that shit and now he's fucking flying! What is he?”
Destiny didn't look back but looked instead at the strange way Eric's feet were situated and said, “He's floating over here because his legs are broken.”
“Oh, oh shit!” the O.A. soldier said, “What now?”
“Do you not see the sores healing themselves on his skin?” Destiny said in awe of the man, “He'll be fine.” There were no zombies around the immediate area so she got out and ran around the truck to help him to the ground. She saw the look of agony on his face as he lowered himself to the ground and said, “I've got you Eric. Let yourself go.” He didn't at first and she yelled, “Eric! Let go!” At once the bubble of telepathic brilliance that had surrounded him was gone and she barely was able to stop him from falling or hurting his legs more. She threw him face down across the passenger's seat then ran back to the driver’s side.
There was so much she could say about what she had just witnessed but Eric was completely unconscious lying across the seat. It was just as well because she knew already there were no words to correctly describe what she felt. This man was so much more than a regular guy with a few abilities. For whatever reason she had fought him before, it didn't matter now. Right then Destiny determined that she would do everything she could up until and possibly including her dying breath to assist him in doing whatever it was, that whoever there was, among angels or gods was giving him abilities to do.
She didn't really know where the sudden desire to assist him came from and she absolutely did not care. He had just saved her life again and this time it would not go silently into the evening. Now his mission was her mission. As she turned the truck around the zombies that survived Eric's incredible explosion were making their way back to the truck. She pulled out the door that she couldn't even remember opening and said to the O.A. soldier, “Fire!” The warehouse exploded in a wash of white and a ball of fire as she drove through the opening in the woods.
Chapter 11
The mood of the meeting was somber to say the least. For everyone at the table with the exception of herself and Peyton Terry, who sometimes met in one on one meetings, this was the first meeting without Abel Nichols. Dr. Cain was aware of the fact that there were mixed feelings all around the room but that did not trouble her. Most everyone knew nothing about the death of Nichols anyway. The only two that knew she shot him would soon take center stage in this meeting; a meeting that should take a high place among the most important ever held in that room.
She cleared her throat and everyone's attention fell on her. Wi
th a gentle smile she looked at each face around the table, “Mr. Terry, Mandy, Phillip Cornell, Dr. Neal and Admiral Bullosky, this meeting begins with each of us having a heavy heart. Our coworker and dear friend, our brother in arms,” she clinched her fist, “Abel Nichols was found dead of a gunshot wound to his head recently. As you all know by now, we have been investigating the cause of his death since the terrible discovery. We can now give you an educated assumption as to what likely took place but there will be much more on that later.
“For now,” Cain continued, “We have a new member to welcome to our table. Mr. Phillip Cornell has been an understudy, for lack of a better term, of Nichols for the better part of four years. He might not have the credentials among those at this table that Nichols enjoyed but trust me when I tell you that he is more than qualified. For our first order of business, we will allow Mr. Cornell to have the floor and introduce himself properly. Feel free Mr. Cornell to tell us all about yourself.”
The young man appeared to be roughly in his middle thirties. He stood up and walked around the table. Dr. Cain was surprised because nobody ever walked to her spot to speak. Considering her general good mood and the fact that she was putting the new guy on the spot, she decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and let him stand near her, though of course she refused to move over for him. He stood next to her and Admiral Bullosky as if he were something special. It was an odd thing for someone just chosen to fill a chair. Cain hadn't even cared who filled the spot and had left it up to Bullosky to choose someone to at least appear to fill Nichols' shoes.
The Great War (Surviving the Zombie Nightmare Book 5) Page 11
