Ex-Communication e-3

by Peter Clines

  Truman shouldered his weapon and held his hand out. “It’s an honor to meet you, ma’am,” he said.

  “Again with the ma’am,” she sighed, shaking the hand.

  “Your father was a great man,” he said. “He made me who I am today. Literally.”

  Her mouth wavered and she pushed the sunglasses back over her eyes. “Thank you.” She looked up at Captain Freedom, then back to Truman. “You’re one of the Unbreakables?”

  He nodded and stood at attention. “Alpha 456th, ma’am, at your service. You need anything at all, you just come looking for me.” He tapped the name on his chest. “Sergeant Mike Truman.”

  “Thank you,” she said again.

  The other guard’s mouth twitched. His eyes flitted between the sunglasses hiding the dead girl’s eyes and the pale skin of her neck. His fingers did a subdued dance on the strap of his rifle.

  Freedom gave him a look. “As you were, men,” he said. Truman gave a sharp salute and turned to continue his patrol along the wall. The civilian guard stared at Madelyn for another moment, then turned to follow his partner.

  She watched them walk away, then let her eyes drift down beyond the Big Wall. A hundred or so exes were there, pressed up against the stack of automobiles. The constant click-click-click of their teeth echoed even louder here. Their dead eyes followed the two guards as they walked away along the Wall. Many of the staggering corpses went after them.

  “Do I really look that much like them?”

  Freedom stepped up behind her and the exes shifted their attention to him. They reached up and grabbed at the air. “According to my mother,” he said, “looks aren’t everything.”

  “Your mom never went to high school, I guess.”

  The exes clawed at their side of the Wall for a few moments, trying to reach the platform. Then they grew still. Their chattering jaws went silent.

  Madelyn’s eyebrows went up. “What’s going—”

  “Hey, big guy,” rasped one of the exes. It had been a tall, dark-skinned man with a thin beard. One of its eyes was missing, and the opposite arm. The bloody rags of the shirt fluttered as it moved.

  Madelyn shrieked and jumped back. Her oversized sunglasses dropped again, and this time they fell into the swarm of dead people below. Freedom stared down at the dead man with practiced disdain. “Did you want something?”

  The ex blinked. Its eyelids flapped over the empty socket. “Getting lazy, esse ,” said Legion. “Forgot to call me ‘sir.’ ”

  “I didn’t forget,” said Freedom. “I made a point of not using it.”

  The dead man barked out a laugh. It opened its mouth and a handful of exes around it spoke in sync. “Yeah, you the big tough guy, hiding behind a gate,” they said. “Adams thought he was tough, too.”

  Freedom’s jaw shifted.

  “You remember Adams, right? He was one of your guys. Now he’s one of mine.”

  “This is him?” asked Madelyn. “This is the guy who can talk through exes? He controlled them out at your base?”

  “Yes,” said Freedom.

  Madelyn stared at the dead man. It ignored her and continued to glare at Freedom with its one good eye. She set her jaw. “He killed my mom?”

  “Since we got a moment alone,” said Legion, “I’m going to make you a deal, big guy.”

  Freedom made a point of turning his head away from the swarm of exes and looked Madelyn in the eye. “No,” he said. “That was something else.”

  “But he controlled the exes?”

  The dead man twisted his head, and the dull eye panned back and forth across Freedom’s face. “Game’s changing again, Cap,” the exes said. “You guys’re always too slow. Always playing catch-up. You running out of time to do that.”

  The huge officer crossed his arms. It was like watching two tree trunks braid themselves. “What are you saying?”

  “Saying you’ve got a chance,” said the dead people. “You gather up all your soldier boys and leave. Go back out to the desert or wherever you want. You just all leave Los Angeles. Nothing’ll touch you. You can just drive away.”

  Freedom said nothing. He stared at the exes. It was another practiced stare. After a moment, the handful of dead people shifted their feet. Madelyn’s sunglasses crunched beneath a heel.

  “Damn it,” she muttered. “Y’know, until I came here I don’t think I lost a single pair of glasses.”

  “Here,” said Freedom. He pulled off his headgear and handed it down to her.

  “You sure?”

  “I’ve got three,” he said.

  Madelyn adjusted the strap and tugged the cap over her head. It shaded her eyes enough someone would have to look twice to see her bleached irises. She smiled up at him. “Good?”

  He nodded.

  “That supposed to impress me?” asked the exes.

  Freedom glanced down at them. “Sorry?”

  “Magic tricks ain’t gonna save the day,” Legion said. “Don’t go thinking you can distract me with bullshit.”

  The huge officer hardened his stare at the dead man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The dead faces below twisted into a dozen identical scowls. “Don’t play games with me, big man. Where the hell’d your hat go?”

  Sixteen

  Now

  ZZZAP FLOATED INSIDE the electric chair, annoyed as all hell, and shot little bolts of electricity out of his finger at one of the rivets.

  It wasn’t really his finger. It was just an outline, a shape his subconscious formed to help him relate to the energy form. It was closer to a mathematical model than flesh and bone. And he wasn’t really shooting electricity. It just streamed off him as potentials shifted, like a giant Tesla coil. It was an easy trick to do with all the conductive material in the cage, and it only added up to half a pound or so of himself that he was burning off each day.

  Truth be told, he wasn’t even aiming at the rivet. He didn’t have that kind of fine control. It was just excess power that struck there instead of somewhere else along the copper-wrapped rings. If he actually fired a blast of energy at the rivet, he’d annihilate the electric chair, most of his entertainment center, and the far wall of Four. Not to mention the east and west walls of Five across the street, Zukor past that, part of the old telecommunications building, the lobby of Roddenberry (which would piss off Stealth to no end), the Gower manufacturing mill, and a little office complex past that which had been single apartments for two years now.

  So, really, he wasn’t doing anything. Except being annoyed as hell.

  St. George and Stealth were angry at him. And he knew they had every right to be. Max had played him like an idiot. Whatever was lurking around their home right now was there because Zzzap had helped the sorcerer. Which he’d only done because he’d been too stupid to tell the others what was going on.

  Now he was stuck wondering just what Max had brought back with him. And what it was going to do. And how many people were going to get hurt because of what he’d done.

  Something shifted by the door. Somebody was lurking there he didn’t recognize. He turned to get a better look and the figure cleared its throat. “Excuse me? Mr. Zzzap?”

  No need to be formal , he said. You can just call me Zzzap. Or even Barry, if you like .

  The figure stared at him for a minute. It looked like a boy, maybe ten or so. Zzzap tried to pick out some more details, but it was always tough with strangers. There were only so many particulars he could pick out with a smear of electromagnetic and thermal energy over the visual spectrum. He was pretty sure the boy had blond hair cut spiky-short.

  Seriously , he said, it’s okay. Come on in .

  The boy took another step. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I can’t understand you. It sounds like you’re humming a lot.”

  He nodded and focused on his words. Better?

  The boy’s face lit up. “Yeah. I can hear you now.”

  Fantastic. I’m Zzzap .

  “Yeah, I know. I’
m Todd,” he said. “Todd Davidson.” He paused after the name, as if hoping Zzzap would have something to say.

  When the boy didn’t continue, Zzzap nodded again. Okay , he said. What’s up, Todd? To save time, the rumors are true—I have the finest collection of sci-fi movies in Los Angeles. If there’s something you want, odds are I’ve got it .

  Todd smiled but shook his head. “Nah,” he said.

  Well, I’m sorry, but I don’t loan out my comics to strangers. Besides, you’ve probably read them all, anyway. All my favorite titles stopped three years ago. I don’t know about you, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that civilization collapsed right after Spider-Man made a deal with the devil .

  The boy walked forward and squinted at the wraith. “I wanted to know, that is, I was wondering if maybe you’d heard anything from my dad?”

  Zzzap cocked his head at the boy. Your dad?

  “Danny Davidson. Daniel, but nobody calls him that.”

  Not ringing any bells, sorry . A few threads of electricity crackled from his shoulders to the curving rings above his head. He wondered if the boy was lost. A lot of kids had grown up inside the walls of the Mount, and when the Big Wall increased their world tenfold a lot of them had been overwhelmed.

  “He’s about this tall,” said Todd, holding up his arm as high as he could, “with blond hair like mine. He used to be kinda fat but he lost a lot of weight just before the zombies showed up.”

  Sorry , said Zzzap, still nothing. Where would I know him from?

  “What do you mean?”

  Is he one of the scavengers or a gate guard or something? Were you guys out at Krypton?

  Todd shook his head. “No, we’ve been here all along. Mom and I live over in Fifteen with my little sister.” He turned and pointed back at the door. “We stayed here after everybody else moved out.”

  Okay. So where’s your dad?

  “Well, he’s … he’s dead. He died just before we moved here to the Mount.”

  Zzzap’s stomach dropped. It was a sensation he’d never felt in the energy form before. He didn’t like it.

  “Some people were talking about the corpse girl and the magician,” said Todd. “They said you could talk to him when he was a ghost and that’s how he came back to life.”

  Yeah … That’s not how it happened .

  “But you could talk to him. To the ghosts.”

  Not exactly. I mean, yeah, but Max—the magician—he was a real special case .

  “Can you talk to my dad?”

  Y’know, Todd-buddy, I think this is a conversation you might want to have with your mom. Or maybe Father Andy .

  “It was Mom’s idea,” said the boy.

  What was?

  “Asking you. She thought you could bring Dad back, too.”

  Zzzap knew he didn’t have a stomach in the same sense he didn’t have a finger. The energy form mimicked the shape of his body, not his internal organs. But his stomach was churning now.

  “I miss him a lot,” said Todd. “Cloddy—she’s my little sister, Claudia—she doesn’t remember him as much, but she was sad for a long time when he died. Mom says she sees him outside the Wall now and then. He’s hanging around because he remembers us, too, deep down inside.”

  Yeah, that’s probably it , said Zzzap. Look, Todd, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking me for .

  “I’m asking you to bring my dad back.”

  I would if I could , he said. I swear I would. But it’s just not how it works .

  “But you already did it once. Couldn’t you do it again?”

  But I didn’t really do anything , he said. It’s like saying the radio has something to do with writing your favorite song .

  The boy scratched his head. “Maybe you could just let me talk to him for a while.”

  Zzzap wondered how much trouble he’d get in if he fled the Mount right at that moment. They had lots of solar cells and some storage batteries. I can’t .

  “Or Mom. She misses him, too. She cried a lot when we first moved here. I know she’d be happier if she could talk to him for a little while.”

  The boy glanced over his shoulder at the door. Zzzap followed his gaze and focused on the far wall. It wasn’t hard to look through objects, it just made everything a lot blurrier. There were at least two dozen people waiting outside. Maybe closer to thirty. Men, women, children. He was pretty sure he recognized Christian Nguyen among them. Half of them were on their knees, their hands pressed together.

  Oh, frak me , he muttered. It came out as a blast of static.

  The boy flinched from the sound, but only for a moment. “Can you do it? Please?”

  Todd, look, you’ve just got the wrong idea. All of you. It’s not that—

  “Is there a problem?” a voice echoed through Four.

  Zzzap sagged inside the rings of the electric chair. Oh, thank God .

  Stealth walked out of the far corner of the room. The one with the deepest shadows, of course. She moved across the chamber with slow, even steps, and her boot heels clicked on the concrete floor. Her cloak caught the small currents from the electric chair and drifted behind her like trails of smoke.

  Zzzap saw Todd’s temperature shoot up three degrees and his heart rate jump. He wasn’t sure if the boy was facing his childhood boogeyman or his first prepubescent fantasy. Todd probably didn’t know, either.

  She stopped in front of the boy and crossed her arms. Even with her featureless mask, it was clear her gaze had fallen on him. “You are Todd Davidson,” she said. “Age ten and three months, son of Marcie, older brother of Claudia. Not doing well in English class.”

  The boy’s heart rate revved again, just as he was getting it under control.

  “You should not be here unescorted.”

  There was a long pause before he squeaked, “My mom’s right outside.”

  “Then why are you in here?”

  The boy shivered. He hadn’t blinked since Stealth had crossed her arms. “I … I just wanted to ask a favor.”

  “You are being unfair to Zzzap,” she said with a gesture at the wraith. “He wishes to help, but you are asking for something he cannot give you.”

  “He helped the magician.”

  “You refer to Maxwell Hale?”

  Todd nodded twice.

  Stealth’s head swung side to side within her hood. “You are mistaken. Zzzap did not help him. Maxwell made several preparations on his own which allowed him to survive. That is all.”

  “But he was dead,” said the boy. “He was dead and he could talk to him.” He pointed an accusing finger at the gleaming figure.

  “It might appear that way,” Stealth said, “but that is not what happened.”

  “But everyone’s saying—”

  “Everyone saying something does not make it true. You are old enough to know this.” The cloaked woman let the words echo in the room for a moment. “Zzzap did not and cannot bring anyone back from the dead.”

  Todd sighed. His face slumped into the universal expression of a kid who’d been told something depressing that he’d suspected anyway. “Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  Sorry .

  The boy stared at Stealth’s boots. Zzzap could see him cooling off, and the hint of moisture at his eyes. “Okay.”

  “The crowd outside is going to be leaving soon,” Stealth said. “It is not safe for people to block the entrance of an important building like this. You should return to your mother and explain this mistake to her.” She paused for a moment, then reached out to set one gloved hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Can I trust you to do this?”

  Zzzap saw the boy’s temperature go up another two degrees. “Okay,” Todd said again. She lifted her hand away and he slogged across the room.

  “And Todd,” she added.

  He stopped at the door and looked back. “Yeah?”

  “Return your sister’s doll.”

  The boy’s heart rate jumped one last time. His eyes w
ent wide, his nerve broke, and he ran out the door.

  Well , Zzzap said, that sucked. Thanks for not being too mean to the kid .

  “I am never deliberately cruel, Zzzap.” She tipped her head and her cloak slid off her shoulders to wrap around her. “I saw him enter on my monitors. His mother is an active member of the After Death movement, and has used her children to gain sympathy in the past. It was simple to deduce she had arranged for him to make such a request.” She gestured at the doorway. “I will arrange for a guard detail on this building so you are not disturbed again. By children or adults.”

  I can deal with grown-ups. It’s kids that are rough . Zzzap pressed his imaginary hands against his imaginary head. I feel like I just kicked a bunch of puppies and kittens in front of him .

  “It is better he realizes the truth before his false hope grows too powerful.”

  But it’s going to keep happening. Even if they don’t get in, people are all going to be thinking this and expecting it. And it’s all my fault .

  “Some of it is, yes,” said Stealth, “but not all of it. It is a natural psychological reaction for people to turn to religion in times of crisis. As this is a never-before-seen type of crisis, it is only natural it should produce a unique response.”

  Outside a trio of guards had joined the crowd. Zzzap could see the radios sparkling on their waists and the dim magnetic pattern of their weapons. The guards waved people away from the building’s door and they grudgingly moved on. He saw Todd walk away alongside a thin woman.

  You guys thought I was crazy, didn’t you?

  “Yes.”

  He waited for her to say more. Another few dozen megawatts of power washed off his form while he did. The electric chair popped and buzzed in the huge room.

  Well, thanks for being honest .

  “Of course.”

  I’m not, you know. Crazy .

  “That much is clear now. I apologize for questioning your mental state, as justified as those questions seemed at the time.”

  I’d think with all the stuff we’ve seen and been through, you would’ve given me the benefit of the doubt .

  “One would think,” she said, “with all we have been through, you would trust us with a matter of such obvious importance.”