by JJ Zep
two
“No!”
“Kel, I –”
“What the hell were you thinking, Chris? You think this is some kind of a game? You think you can just run off and play soldiers any time you want, leaving me fretting and praying that you’ll make it back alive? No, Chris, no! We get out of here and head north. That’s what we discussed. That’s what we’re doing.” She stood facing him, the determined set of her jaw challenging him to take the matter further.
“I already told you why that won’t work,” Chris said, keeping his tone as gentle as he could. Kelly was still weak, not fully recovered. By rights, she should still have been confined to bed. Kelly, being Kelly, had refused to be bed-ridden, and had thrown herself into the preparations for the trek north. She wanted badly to be away from this place, they all did, but Kelly most of all. He could understand that.
“I won’t let you go,” she said, her lip quivering.
“I have to Kel. Don’t you see that? I just have to.”
She turned away from him, faced the wall. Then her shoulders shuddered slightly and a low wail escaped her. Chris stepped up behind his wife, folded his arms around her, held her, kissed her neck as she cried.
“Kelly,” he said. “Honey, I know how hard this is for you. It’s hard for me too, and for the kids, but no one will ever understand what you’re going through. All I know is that I never want you to hurt like this again. I want you and the kids to be free of all this.”
“Why Chris? Why did they have to come to our city? Why now, just when we were getting some semblance of a normal life together? Why now?”
“They’re always going to come, Kel. And they’re going to keep coming until eventually we can’t hold them back anymore, until they kill us, or worse, until they infect our children or take them from us. That’s why I have to go. Let me do this Kel. After this it’s over.”
“Where have I heard that before?” Kelly sniffed.
“I mean it this time. Once more and I’m done. I’m going to find us a place, maybe somewhere in the mountains. Away from the Z’s, away from people, away from this whole messed up world.”
“And when the Corporation comes, Chris? Even if you do somehow manage to survive Scolfield, what happens when the Corporation comes looking for you? Isn’t that what you said, that they’ll never stop coming.”
“That’s just it, Kel. If we beat Scolfield, and I know we can, we’ll have the means to break the power of the Corporation forever.”
three
Marin Scolfield stood up against the barrier on the south side of the Queensboro Bridge and looked down on the narrow strip of land sitting in the midst of the East River between Manhattan and Queens. He lifted the glasses to his eyes and scanned from his position towards Roosevelt Island’s southernmost point. A smile played on his lips as he congratulated himself on his choice of location. The island was perfect for his purposes. The park to the south would hold the Z’s as a sort of reserve army, should he need them. To the north, the medical facility would provide both housing for his subjects, as well as a base for him to work from. Add in the fact that the island was easy to defend and you had a winner anyway you looked at it.
And he was equally pleased with the effectiveness of his new soldiers. The Dead Men were without doubt the most depraved bunch of reprobates he’d ever encountered. They were ruthless and stupid, two qualities he valued in his underlings. They also got the job done, and right now, the job involved rounding up stragglers and strays. The main body of humanity had already been herded north to Lighthouse Park where they could be easily contained until he was ready to move them into the hospital. He’d give it a couple more hours he decided, then he’d go down there and begin processing his stock.
The sound of a motorcycle distracted him from that pleasant thought. Scolfield tensed, slipped his hand into his pocket, and thumbed the dial on his I-pod. For all their effectiveness, he didn’t trust the Dead Men, which was why he still maintained his bodyguard. A press of the dial brought them to life, twenty of the biggest, meanest Z’s he’d been able to find. They shuffled from the shadows at the side of the bridge and formed a cordon around him.
The motorcyclist came to a halt, kicked out the foot-stand on his machine and dismounted. It was Eriksson.
“What are you doing up here?” Scolfield said.
“Just thought I’d give you a progress report, boss.”
“Why do I need a report? I can see very well from up here what’s going on.”
“All the same.” Eriksson’s lips peeled back in an idiot grin that revealed yellow teeth.
Scolfield nodded. “Make your report.”
“Well boss,” Eriksson said. “I figure we got the bulk of them rounded up. Always going to be some stubborn assholes who will insist on hiding out in attics and such. The way I figure they’ll be Z shit by morning anyway.”
Scolfield said nothing. Eriksson wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know.
“We had us a bit of a problem bringing ‘em through the subway. Some mean ass Z’s down there we had to deal with. Few of them folks got themselves chewed up, couple of my boys too.”
“But you have the situation in hand.”
“Hell yeah. Them folks down there’s about as meek as lambs. Speaking of which, we cut us a few choice specimens from the herd, if you get my drift. Hope you don’t mind.”
Scolfield did get his drift. The Dead Men, he’d discovered, had a taste for human flesh. That was downright disgusting, and Scolfield wasn’t going to tolerate it.
“Matter of fact, I do mind,” he said. “Get the word out to your men. Nobody touches my stock unless I say so.”
“Sure thing boss,” Eriksson said, inclining his head like a scolded schoolboy.
“Go now,” Scolfield said. “I’ll be down in a couple of hours. I want everything under control when I get there.”
Eriksson started to turn, then stopped. “One other thing boss,” he said. “One of them folks we rounded up says she knows you. A real stuck up bitch. Says she’s a doctor or something. Name of –”
“Dr. Alex Payne.”
“That’s her. Geez, you know her? My boys didn’t believe her bullshit. They may have roughed her up a bit.”
“That’s quite okay,” Scolfield said. “Put her in with the others.”
four
“You know what to do?”
Ana nodded, slowly, deliberately, her eyes never leaving Joe.
“Tell me then.”
“I bring everyone to the control tower. We hole up there for 48 hours. If you’re not back by then, I load everyone into three vehicles and we head north to Toronto. We drive right through, stopping only to refuel.”
“Good,” Joe said. “And Ana, don’t let anyone talk you into deviating from that plan, not Kelly, not Janet, not anyone. They’ll try to convince you to wait. Don’t do it. If we miss the deadline we’ll make our own way north, you got that?”
Ana nodded again, less certainly this time.
“Questions?”
“What do we do about her?” Ana asked, indicating with her chin towards where Justine sat with her wrist cuffed to a chair.
“Yeah Joe, what do you do about me?” Justine smirked.
Joe had been puzzling over that particular conundrum for some time. He’d yet to come up with a satisfactory answer. Justine knew where they were headed. If he turned her loose, if wouldn’t take long before she showed up in Toronto, more than likely with a detachment of Corporation infantry behind her. There was only one thing for it. “Justine’s coming with us,” he said.
“Really? Really Joe?” Justine said in mock exasperation. “You’re taking me with you? Man, that’s wonderful news. You don’t know how badly I want a crack at Scolfield.”
“Don’t go all gushy on me, Justine. You won’t be taking shots at anyone. You’ll be in cuffs and under close supervision. And just so you know, any shit from you and I’m feeding you to the Z’s.”
�
�Gee, thanks Joe. You really know how to treat a lady.”
“You about ready there, Joe?”
Joe turned towards the door where Hooley stood, kitted up, a rifle slung from his shoulder. Joe had tried everything he could to convince Hooley to stay behind. Hooley had flatly refused. Not even Janet’s pleas had been able to dissuade him. “Had myself a gutful of laying low and playing possum,” he’d said. “This critter Scolfield’s earned himself a good ‘ol Texas-style ass kickin’. Seems to me I’m the very feller to deliver it.”
“Be out in a minute, Hooley,” Joe said. He turned to Ana, drew her into an embrace. “You take care of yourself, Ana.”
“You too, big guy. Come back safe.”
***
Chris stood with his arms around Kelly, while Samantha clung to his waist as though her life depended on it. Close at hand stood Charlie, Jojo and Ferret, all of them teary-eyed. The Humvee had idled into life minutes ago and stood on the tarmac, the others already on board. Not for the first time since they’d committed to this course of action, Chris wondered if they were doing the right thing.
“I’ll see you all soon,” he said. “Just make sure you’re ready to roll when we get back because we’ll have some miles to make.”
“Sure dad,” Charlie and Jojo said in unison.
He pushed Kelly gently away from him, looked into her face. “If I’m not back in 48 hours, I want you to go north with Ana, you understand?”
“Please don’t go, Chris.”
Chris ignored her plea. “Promise me you’ll go.”
Kelly started crying, Samantha and Ferret now joining in.
“Promise me.”
“I promise, I promise,” Kelly sobbed clinging to him.
“Good, because I want to make you a promise, too. Whatever it takes, no matter how long it takes, I will come back to you.”
He gently extracted himself from her embrace, kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips. Then he turned and walked towards the Humvee. Something his father had told him as a child suddenly popped into his head. “Never make promises you can’t keep.” He had a feeling he might have done just that.
five
Alex Payne looked through one slitted eye and took in the mass of humanity gathered in the park. She raised a hand to her face, touched her fingers gingerly to her bruised cheekbone, then squeezed the bridge of her nose and let out a yelp of pain. The nose wasn’t broken but it hurt like hell. It was also clogged with dried blood, which made it difficult for her to breathe. Someone was going to pay for this. Oh God, yes! Just wait until Marin got here. The sons of bitches who had manhandled her were going to pay. She’d insist that they die, of course, and not just by a bullet to the head either. They were going to die hard, thrown to the Z’s, kicking and screaming as they were torn apart. She was going to see to that personally.
She clutched at the remnants of her coat and pushed her way through the crowd. There were maybe twenty thousand herded together into the park at the north end of the island, behind the hospital. This was quite obviously Marin’s doing, something the two of them had discussed in detail. Their plan had been to use Central Park as a staging area and operate out of Mount Sinai. No doubt the fire had prompted this change. No matter, one locale was as good as another. She needed to make contact with Marin though, to let him know she was here. He was probably worried about her.
She reached the place where the grass met the sidewalk, pushed up against the rope suspended there to act as a boundary. Beyond the rope stood Marin’s newly acquired militia, armed to the teeth with rifles and shotguns, machineguns mounted on the backs of some of their pickups. How Marin had come to be in league with these reprobates she had no idea. What she did know was that they’d have to go, and the sooner the better. For now though, she’d have to play this warily. She’d already seen these men gun down some idiots who’d tried to make a run for it.
She took in a breath that made her damaged nose throb, raised her hand tentatively to attract the guard closest to her.
“Excuse me,” Alex said, forcing a smile. The man, a filthy creature with matted black hair and a brick red complexion, ignored her, stared blankly into the crowd. “You’re on the list too, asshole,” Alex muttered to herself.
Somewhere, close by, a heavy vehicle geared down.
“Excuse me,” Alex repeated, the words coming out all fuzzy and sounding strange in her ears. “Excuse me…sir?” If the man heard, he made no response.
The sound of the truck was louder and now she spotted it, a large military transport, just making the turn from behind the hospital building, the sun reflecting back off its windshield. As the vehicle drew closer, she could make out the two occupants in the cab and one of them was…
“Marin!” she yelled out, barely able to contain her excitement. She pushed up against the rope, ducked under it, stepped from the grass onto the sidewalk. “Marin!”
“Back bitch!” In her peripheral vision, Alex saw the guard raise his rifle and reverse it, the butt towards her. “I said back!”
The truck was twenty yards away, the guard much closer than that. If he’d wanted to kill her he could have done so in an instant. But Alex didn’t care, she crossed the sidewalk, stepped into the road and raised her hands above her head as the truck driver stood on the brakes and brought the vehicle to a shuddering halt just feet from her.
“Marin!” she shouted again. She tried to round the truck towards the passenger side, but she’d taken only a few steps when a hand grabbed hold of her hair. Alex was yanked back, thrown to the ground. The guard towered over her and raised the rifle.
“Don’t!” she shouted, getting out only half of the word before the rifle butt collided with her jaw.
six
Joe backed the Humvee into an alleyway a few blocks short of the barricade wall and killed the engine. He stared through the windshield into the smoke shrouded street, the snow there rendered black by falling soot. He consulted his watch. Two thirty. The twenty-mile drive from White Plains had taken less time than he’d anticipated but that was good. It gave them time to do a little reckie before dark, and also to flesh out their plan of attack, such as it was.
“Right folks,” he said half turning in his seat. “Let’s get this vehicle camouflaged before we do anything else.”
He opened the door, stepped out into the alley, unclipped his AK from the door bracket then walked towards the junction and peered out, looking left towards the barricade wall. Even from here, the cataclysmic effects of the fire were evident. The air was thick with smoke and swirling debris and carried on it the scent of brimstone. The snow beneath their feet was soot blackened. The skyline beyond the wall had been altered forever. Many of the buildings had collapsed. Those still standing were smoldering, skeletal remnants, still leeching smoke towards the wintry sky.
He turned back towards the alley, picked up a plank of wood and agitated it through the snow, obliterating the Humvee’s tracks. Behind him Chris and Hooley were dragging a few rotting wooden boards in front of the vehicle, Ruby was piling some plastic sheeting on the hood and across the windshield, further disguising the Humvee’s boxy profile.
Joe jogged towards them, called them into a huddle beside the vehicle, looked from one face to the other. Chris, Ruby, Hooley, he couldn’t think of three people he’d rather have by his side in a fight.
“Let’s keep this simple,” Joe said eventually. “We have two objectives. Objective one, take out Scolfield. Objective two, get our hands on those little Z controllers of his. Anyone disagree?”
“What about the people still on the island?” Chris said. “What about getting them to safety?”
“Not a priority,” Joe said, then raised a hand as Chris started to protest. “However, if we succeed in getting rid of Scolfield, we’ll march his Z army into the bay, and these people will have a shot at putting their lives back together.”
Chris nodded.
“Question is,” Joe said. “How do we get to Scolfie
ld while he’s surrounded by his Z’s?”
“You know how, don’t you?” Hooley said. “I recognize that look you get when you’ve got something figured.”
“I’ve got an idea,” Joe said. He got to his feet, levered the door of the Humvee open.
“Hey Joe, what’s a girl got to do to get a bathroom break around here?” Justine said as he reached into the cab. She was still cuffed to one of the seats.
“Just as soon as I’m done here,” Joe said. “Now settle down.”
“I could help, you know. I am trained for this kind of thing.”
“I’ve got all the help I need, thank you.” He found what he was looking for, lifted the rifle from their weapons stash.
“A M107, Joe?” Justine said. “You planning on doing some sniping?”
“Something like that,” Joe said.
seven
The numbers were disappointing. Scolfield hadn’t expected the roundup to net every soul on Manhattan Island. After all, many of them would have died in the fire, while the Z’s would have gotten others. But he’d counted on thirty-five, forty thousand. This was more like twenty, twenty-two at a push. Still, he was sure he’d be able to pull a few thousand usable specimens from this lot. That was a start.
He stood on the hood of the truck and looked over the field, the loudhailer by his side. To his left, across the water, the skyscrapers of Manhattan skulked in the waning afternoon light; to his right, lay the ruins of the once great borough of Queens. Up ahead, at the northernmost extremity of the island stood a lighthouse, Blackwell Island Light Scolfield seemed to remember it was called.
He turned his attention back to his charges, smiled down on them like a benevolent monarch. He lifted the loudhailer to his lips, depressed the speak button. “Friends,” he said.
A rustle when through the ranks as their attention was drawn towards him. “Friends,” he repeated with emphasis. “Fellow New Yorkers. I applaud you. I applaud your valor and fortitude in surviving the tragic events of the last few days.”
