by Dana Fredsti
Pretty cool. Then this big bad boy .45 pistol Captain Gentry called a 1911. It's another one of those things that looks straight out of a gangster film. And it can stay there because it's a pain in the ass to shoot: loud, a nasty-ass kick. I mean, it makes a watermelon do a Gallagher finale in one shot.
Then the shotguns were wheeled out and they made the 1911 feel like a .22 in comparison. Winchesters and Remingtons, all 12 gauge that kicked like a really pissed-off mule. But nothing so bad as this little cut-off double barrel shotgun that totally looked like something from The Road Warrior. Naturally I wanted to try it, but Tony beat me to the punch.
“Creep,” I muttered after he snatched it from my reach.
“You snooze, you lose,” he said with a smirk.
I had the last laugh, though, because when Tony gave the target both barrels, it bucked back and smacked his chin hard enough to knock him backwards. “Way to go, Mad Max,” I said, helping him to his feet. “Bet you wish you'd snoozed a little more.”
“No way!” said Tony, rubbing his jaw while staring at the double-barrel monster with love. “This thing rocks!”
Captain Gentry also gave us a few shots with an autofire shotgun, and weirdly, it had damn near no kick at all, which was really cool. So cool, in fact, they decided it needed to stay a military toy for the Alpha teams. “You all,” Gabriel informed us, “will be using the M4s.”
Tony clutched his double-barreled baby to his chest. I wouldn't be surprised if he smuggled it out under his shirt.
Gabriel believed in repetition, the old practice-makes-perfect routine for each and everything he taught us. Luckily part of the Wild Card legacy is great stamina. Mack kept up with the rest of us despite his age and we learned to ignore his muttering about aching joints and creaky knees. I caught a pleased grin on his face more than once after executing a maneuver that would have put most twenty-year-olds to shame. The whole enhanced skill set bonus prize was pretty damn nifty.
Gabriel, on the other hand—well, by mid-afternoon he didn't look so good. He still looked gorgeous, mind you, but he also just looked, well, off. His skin looked sallow and those gorgeous blue eyes had deep hollows under them. Maybe he wasn't entirely over his bout of Walker's yet. I thought about asking him if he was okay, but couldn't quite summon up the courage and I was too busy fending off Kai and Lily—both coming at me with edged weapons—to stop for a chat.
Simone came in around four or so, accompanied by Dr. Albert and a soldier lugging a bunch of bottled waters. I stifled a laugh as Jamie stood up straight and sucked in her nonexistent stomach.
Simone handed Gabriel a bottle of water. “How's it going?”
Gabriel grunted in response, twisting the cap off the bottle and downing most of its contents in one gulp. He really didn't look good. His skin was sallow and beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. Simone took a long look at him and evidently came to the same conclusion. “Gabriel, Dr. Albert needs to have a word with you.”
Gabriel nodded. “Take five, everyone.” I wondered if anyone else noticed the odd gravelly undertone to his normally smooth voice. I hoped he was okay.
We all collapsed in mid-combat technique, grateful for the break. Simone handed out waters—Jamie immediately jumped up to help her distribute bottles—while Gabriel stepped outside with Dr. Albert.
Lying on the floor on my back, I rolled the ice-cold bottle over my forehead, neck, and chest. Shutting my eyes, I focused on deep breaths as my heartbeat returned to normal. The respite after such rigorous exercise felt so good as to be almost orgasmic, like a hot shower after a few days of camping and hiking. Come to think of it, a hot shower sounded pretty good about now too.
I wondered what was up with Gabriel. Simone had said he was “different.” Not Wild Card different. Something else. But what? I was curious, but also concerned. Gabriel drove me crazy at times, but I found myself liking him more and more each passing hour. And it's not like I was some sort of sicko slut hot for the guy who capped her zombie boyfriend. I just found myself appreciating him a lot more than I did back when our entire interaction was based on pissing each other off. There was still some fun in that, mind you, but I found I didn't like seeing him vulnerable and ill.
Everything was happening so quickly, a super-accelerated schedule. Not just the training, but having to process concepts and emotions within days that would normally require several years of therapy. To paraphrase Predator, one of my favorite testosterone-drenched flicks, we didn't have time to bleed.
“Is this our new team, Professor Fraser?” A rich, hearty, baritone voice, conjuring visions of Shakespearean heroes spoke above me. My eyes flew open and I sat up, dropping my water bottle in surprise. Jamie smirked. I ignored her and checked out the newcomer.
Skinny and short, his slightly oversized features looked like the sad side of a comedy/tragedy mask. His eyelids drooped and his mouth actually turned down at the corners. Had that warm, cheerful voice actually come out of such a lugubrious face?
“Did I startle you, young lady? My apologies.”
OMG, it was like watching a dubbed Chinese kung fu movie, the type where the voice-overs didn't go with the actors at all. I mean, the words and his mouth were in sync, but the voice so didn't go with that face.
I tried not to giggle. “Ah, er, no problem.”
“Team, this is Colonel Paxton. He's replaced General Heald as commander of this operation.” Simone's tone, while not effusive, was slightly warmer than it had been when addressing General Heald. I hoped this meant Paxton was less of an asshole than his predecessor.
Colonel Paxton nodded. “It's good to meet you all. Welcome aboard.” I swear, he had the sort of voice you'd follow into battle, but coming out of the face of a court jester. There was nothing funny about his next words, however. “Professor Fraser, we have an emergency.”
* * * *
“Well, shit.”
Standing in the entrance of DBP Hall and looking out onto the quad with the rest of the Wild Cards, as well as Simone, her shadow Jamie, Gabriel, and the baby-faced Captain Gentry, I had to agree with Tony's summation of the situation. What I could see of the campus looked to be crawling with the walking, rotting dead, including several in military garb. The protective neck and headgear would make it fun to try to deliver the killing blow to the brain. Guess they hadn't been able to get all of the infected Alphas off the streets before they'd turned. The setting sun lent an eerie crimson glow to the scene.
Colonel Paxton nodded. “‘Shit’ indeed, young man.”
How could anyone make “shit” sound so—so upbeat and heroic?
Paxton continued. “Until this morning, we had control of the campus and were moving into the town to sweep it clean as well and rescue survivors. But with the increased infection rate among our teams, the zombies have been encroaching from the outlying areas and overwhelming our diminishing forces, who in turn are joining the ranks of the enemy. We need to clear the immediate perimeter while our engineers erect a protective barrier around the campus.”
“Wouldn't it be safer to get the barrier in place, and then clear the interior?” asked Kai.
Paxton frowned, the corners of his mouth turning down even more, if that was possible. “If we had the luxury of time, of course. However, we don't. The barrier needs to go up so we have a safe base of operations and a place to house survivors outside of this building. We don't dare wait until morning. This operation will be dangerous.” Wow, understatement much? “Unfortunately our remaining Alpha teams will be protecting the engineers so the Wild Card team will be on its own.”
“Sucks to be us,” Kai muttered.
I nudged him in the arm. “Hey, at least we won't die if we get bit again.”
“Will we get sick again?” Lily hugged herself protectively, her hair actually pulled out of her face in a tightly woven braid pinned up and under a snug-fitting helmet with chin-guard (think Starship Troopers). Like me, she'd paid attention to Gabriel's Rule Number Sixty-Three (okay, I made t
he number up): “Never give your opponent anything he/she/it can grab hold of in close combat.”
All the Wild Cards had any excess hair braided, pinned, or otherwise tucked out of harm's (i.e. zombie hands) way, bodies protected in lightweight but effective sectioned Kevlar armor covering upper and lower arms, chest, and thighs. The Kevlar was worn over sturdy but flexible, fire retardant (in case we ran into any pyromaniacal zombies or accidentally set one another on fire) pants and long-sleeved shirts. Black knee-high, lace-up boots discouraged any pesky shin or ankle biters. Very police riot gear chic. It felt a little weird, but not so unwieldy I couldn't move or fight in it if—when the time came.
We were armed with our M4s and some sort of hand-to-hand weapon, based on personal preference. I chose a lethally sharp blade somewhere between a katana and a wakizashi. The slanted tip of the blade also sharpened enough to slide in and out of flesh with ease. It had what is cheerfully called a blood gutter running down the length of the blade, which ensured it wouldn't get trapped by the suction of the muscle tissue and fat.
I know, icky, right? But practical. I'd practiced drawing the sword out of its scabbard over and over again. Once Gabriel noticed my interest in the weapon, he'd made me wear its scabbard so I'd be used to its weight and feel. I also carried a shorter blade called a tanto in a crossover sheath, blade up over the left side of my chest. If I lost my gun and primary blade, I'd have easy access to the tanto. Thank you, Zombie Combat Manual.
My fellow Wild Cards had an assortment of goodies, such as machetes, axes, and crowbars. Lily had a little pickaxe, the wide edge of the axe and point of the pick also honed to razor sharpness. It hung from the right side of her belt. Between that and her firearm, Lily looked like a lethal Care Bear. And she would soon be outside in the middle of unimaginable horror and chaos.
No fooling myself on this one. Lily would be fighting. I would be fighting. Fighting for my life, as well as those of my fellow Wild Cards, the remaining Alpha team members and the poor hapless engineers trying to build a mini Great Wall of China around Big Red with rotting corpses snapping at their heels.
Suddenly I wanted to throw up.
A hand rested on my shoulder. “You okay?”
I looked up to find Gabriel at my side, looking much healthier than he had earlier. His color was better and the haggard circles under his eyes were gone. Maybe Dr. Albert gave him a shot of B vitamins or something. Whatever, it was reassuring to see him back to normal.
“Yeah… no. No, I'm not okay. I mean, it's real. This is really happening. We're all going out there to fight an enemy that's trying to eat us and … and we might die. I might die.”
Gabriel listened as I rambled, his expression nonjudgmental, but also noncommittal. I felt like an idiot, but couldn't stop myself from continuing. “I might screw up. Someone could die because I screw up.” I started to hyperventilate. Gabriel took hold of my shoulders and looked me in the eye.
“You're not going to screw up, Ashley.”
“How do you know? We've only been training for, what? Two days? That's not enough time to rehearse for a monologue, let alone to prepare for this.” I gestured towards the zombie-infested quad outside.
“I've seen you in action.” Gabriel spoke quietly and intensely. “You're quick, smart, and you think on your feet.” He put a hand under my chin, lifting it so he could look me in the eyes. “And I'll be out there watching your back. All your backs. Okay?”
I searched his gaze for any sign of bullshit, but saw nothing but sincerity in the deep blue of his eyes.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I couldn't resist asking. “I eat meat and sugar, remember?”
Gabriel gave a strange little smile, one side of his mouth lifting up. “Guess I've learned we're not always what we eat.”
“So you're not just a well-built pile of mushy tofu?”
He winced. “Couldn't you at least have said ‘firm?’“
I grinned.” Hey, I gave you ‘well-built.’“
“I guess you did at that.” Shaking his head, Gabriel let go of my chin, his hand brushing the side of my face so quickly and gently it might have been an accident. His touch made my skin tingle—or maybe it was just nerves. That's what I told myself as Gabriel turned back to the rest of the group, all of whom were eyeballing us curiously.
“Okay, everyone. It's time to do this. We're going out in two teams, Team A and Team B—”
“How come we have to be called Team A and B?” grumbled Tony. “It's boring. Can't we be, like, Team Romero and Team Fulci?”
Kai rolled his eyes. “Dude, that is so fucking cliché, I can't believe you suggested it. That's like being a Star Wars geek and naming your kid Lucas or Jar Jar.”
“A real Star Wars fan would not name their kid Jar Jar,” said Tony.
“Whatever, dude. My point remains the same.”
Gabriel cleared his throat, shooting both of them a rather deadly glance. “As I was saying, we'll divide into two teams and do a sweep of the campus. Team A will move out to the perimeter where the barrier construction is taking place, moving inward in a clockwise direction, while Team B is going to move counterclockwise slightly inside the perimeter.”
The Wild Cards stared at him blankly. A diagram would be handy about now.
Gabriel sighed. “Think of Team A as the big hand of a clock, with the team members spread out along the line of the hand. Team B is the little hand, moving the opposite direction.”
“That's one fucked-up clock,” muttered Tony.
Gabriel ignored him. “Each team moves in ever-tightening circles until they arrive back here at DBP Hall, which is basically dead center of campus. Er … no pun intended. The idea is to clean out the zombies from the outside in, not exactly normal procedure when securing a perimeter. Team A will hopefully catch anything Team B misses. We'll start by eradicating the obvious threats while Alpha Teams defend the engineers. We'll eventually need to do a sweep of each and every building on campus, both to check for targets and survivors.”
“A Team will be led by myself and consists of Ashley, Kai, and Lily. B team will be led by Captain Gentry here.”
“They imported me special,” Captain Gentry said with a grin.
Gabriel nodded. “Captain Gentry is also a Wild Card and even better, he's seen plenty of this sort of action overseas.” I had to wonder what Captain G's story was. Maybe we'd live to hear it later. “The rest of the team is Mack, Tony, and Kaitlyn.”
Tony looked less than thrilled by his teammates, a sentiment clearly shared by Kaitlyn. Mack, bless him, smiled at both of them, oblivious.
“First step is making our way through the zoms surrounding DBP Hall.”
Zoms? Cute.
“We have snipers on the roof of DBP and others will move into position on the top of other buildings to help cull the herd. Don't engage in combat at this point unless absolutely necessary. The point is to make it to your starting positions and begin the sweep inwards. Understood?”
We all nodded.
Simone stepped in at this point. “I'd advise using evasive tactics—dodging the zombies—as much as possible. If necessary, use your weapons to keep them off you. If one of your team falls, do your best to rescue them even if they're bitten. Remember, you're immune to infection, but not to being ripped to pieces. We can't afford to lose any of you.”
“Aren't you going with us?” Lily's voice shook as she stared at Simone with huge green eyes.
“No,” Simone said shortly. “The powers that be consider my expertise in zombie physiology more important than my combat ability and immunity to the virus in the field.”
“And quite rightly.” Colonel Paxton stepped forward. “Professor Fraser is not only tracking the source of this outbreak, but working on a cure for the virus itself. Her knowledge is even more invaluable than her Wild Card status. Which is one of the reasons we brought in Captain Gentry.”
Simone didn't look happy, but Jamie did. I imagine Miss Hot Topic would have tackled
Simone had she tried to leave the building. And as much as Jamie annoyed me, I pretty much agreed with her and Colonel Paxton on this one.
“What about survivors?” asked Mack. Trust Mack to think of other people when his own life was on the line.
“If they're in a secured location or you can get them to one quickly, leave them and we'll go back for them as soon as the campus is secure. If not, try to get them back here. I trust you to use your judgment.”
From the look on Mack's face I could guarantee he wouldn't be leaving anybody behind.
“What if they're bitten?” We all looked at Kaitlyn, surprised she'd actually volunteered anything.
Gabriel hesitated. “Every infected person is a potential Wild Card. If you can get them back here, do it. But put your own safety first. I repeat, we cannot afford to lose any of you.”
I gave a little shudder, knowing what would happen to any infected victims if they weren't Wild Cards.
“If things go FUBAR, fall back to DBP as quickly as possible. I don't expect they will, but there's always that possibility. Team B, if something happens to Captain Gentry, Mack is in charge.”
Mack's surprised expression mirrored Kaitlyn's and Tony's. His embarrassed pleasure, not so much. “Oh, I…I don't think that's such a good idea,” he stammered. “I'm not—”
“No arguments.” Gabriel stared sternly at all of us. “If I decide one of you is fit to lead, that's final until I'm proven wrong. We don't have time to dick around.”
Mack subsided, looking both pleased and nervous.
“Team A, if anything happens to me, Ashley will take over.”
Huh?
My mouth fell open in total surprise. Kai reached over, put a finger under my chin and closed it. “You heard the man, little girl. You lead, we follow.” Lily nodded her agreement and gave my arm a quick squeeze.
I totally understood Mack's feelings; totally flattered, but scared by the possible responsibility. “But nothing's going to happen to you, right?”
