by Spriggs, Kal
Somehow these men had escaped. Even worse, they had better weapons and equipment than Jack's people could muster and they had several hundred potential hostages.
"Well," the Lord Regent answered Jack's question with a glance at Captain Carney, "I'm sure that's not our problem. I've arranged for dinner, it's right down the hallway to the dining room. Captain Carney please have one of your men escort our guests, and then come back and brief me on this undead incursion."
"Of course, Lord Regent," Carney gave a slight bow. The behavior was odd enough that Jack noted it, but he was focused on the main problem of how he was going to get himself and his people out of this situation.
"A pleasure meeting you, Jack Zamora, Warrant Officer Knighton," the Lord Regent said. "I'll see you at dinner."
Jack managed to smile and nod in reply. As he and Warrant Officer Knighton stepped into the hallway, he wondered if he should just make a break for it. Yet there were too many unknowns. These escaped criminals had somehow cleared an entire city of undead. They had weapons and equipment, they had unknown resources and numbers. The military prison at Leavenworth could have held several hundred prisoners, though Jack didn't know how many it had held during the collapse. So far Jack had only seen around two dozen uniformed and armed men. If that was all that this Lord Regent had, then Jack would favor his people in any kind of fair fight.
But if the Lord Regent had fifty or more, then this wasn't a fight that Jack's people would win. He needed to learn more. He needed to know what weapons his people would have to face. He glanced at Knighton as the guard led them down the corridor. The Warrant Officer gave him a nod, clearly he understood as well.
We'll get out of this, Jack told himself. Yet he couldn't help a shiver as he thought about the strange light in the Lord Regent's eyes.
***
"They know," Captain Carney snapped.
"They suspect," Nidal hissed back. He rubbed at the scar tissue on his neck, mostly hidden by the high collar of his shirt. The unfortunately attentive Zamora had noticed his scar, despite the collar. He sees too much. "And even if they know the truth, then what? We have a place of safety, weapons, and resources. We will show them the carrot, lure them in... and only if that does not work will we use the stick."
"I don't like him," Captain Carney whined.
That's because he sees through your false joviality, Nidal thought to himself. Carney liked to play the fool, to get people to lower their guard. That was how he'd gotten away with his crimes as an officer. It was only when he had someone at their most vulnerable that he'd reveal his true nature. Clearly this Jack Zamora was perceptive enough to see through the act, however.
"It doesn't matter if you like him," Nidal rasped. "Keep an eye on your men, do not let them slip up. We must win these people over. Get them to come to us willingly. Unless you'd like to fight them?"
Captain Carney licked his lips nervously. "Lord Regent..." He hesitated for a long moment and then, he spoke haltingly, as if he hated speak the words, "the host that you sent to corral them..."
"The blessed dead?" Nidal asked, "What about them?"
"We were supposed to arrive as a dramatic rescue, to save them just in time," Captain Carney said. "But Jack Zamora's people had the situation in hand. They had destroyed almost two dozen of the undead and had a secure position. If we hadn't arrived, it is possible that they could have escaped."
Nidal's eyes narrowed. "Two dozen?" The number seemed absurd. Destroying one of the undead, even the mindless zombies, was difficult. Nidal had seen men empty dozens of bullets into them to no effect. Before he had come to true understanding by the Hand of God, he had tried to destroy a couple of them to preserve his own life, to no avail, of course.
Now he knew that they were empowered by divine will. That was why they kept moving when anything living would yield.
"How could they accomplish this?" Nidal demanded.
"Physical weapons," Carney looked away. "Swords, axes. They took several down with shotguns but they hacked over a dozen apart by hand."
Nidal shivered at that. He had done terrible things in his life. Among the worst was being touched by the Hand of God to receive his blessing. In theory, he should have nothing to fear from one of the blessed dead... yet even he felt a shiver of fear at the thought of drawing close enough to them to take one apart with hand weapons.
"It is nothing," Nidal hissed. "That host was among the weakest of the greater host." That was why he had selected them for the task, they were the weakest, the slowest, with poor bindings. Getting them out in daylight had been the hardest part to accomplish and it had still further weakened his control over them, which was why he'd given Captain Carney permission to destroy them after they accomplished their task. "Your men destroyed nearly a hundred of them."
"Yes, but many were severely wounded already and we had heavy weapons--"
"I said it is of no consequence!" Nidal snapped, his raspy voice cutting Carney off like a knife.
"Yes, Lord Regent," Carney's face had gone pasty and Nidal realized that he had put some of his power into his voice.
He willed himself to calm and he adopted a more moderate tone. "Instruct Captain Hudson to continue his preparations and then join us for dinner." As Carney departed, Nidal sighed and returned to his desk. Clearly things had begun to advance beyond Captain Carney's capabilities. While the man's devious nature had been useful, he wasn't really the most effective military commander. His men were terrified of him, to be certain, but they followed him out of fear and terror. They'd seen the aftermath of his "amusements" often enough to avoid drawing his anger.
Captain Hudson more often acted as Nidal's enforcer, but the brutish man was hardly a genius. Cowing refugees into obeying Nidal's commands was one thing. Being a capable leader and fighter was something else entirely.
This Jack Zamora, Nadal thought to himself, he might fit the role a bit better... The Hand of God had spoken of a holy war, a jihad as Nidal thought of it. This war would pit the living and the blessed dead against the followers of false gods. Nidal would need a general, a leader who could command his forces, while Nidal saw to the management of the lands they conquered.
There was a charisma to the tall, lean-faced man who had stood in the office. The awe that Captain Carney had expressed showed that. Jack Zamora dared to fight the undead at close quarters. He led a scouting expedition to the city himself. He was a leader... and Nidal could use that.
I will show him the benefits of joining with us, Nidal told himself. If that doesn't work... then I will show him the consequences for opposing us. If all else failed, Nidal could stage a demonstration with the Hand of God. Surely the officer would see that joining the winning side was for the best, that to do anything else would be to damn himself.
If he still refused to see reason, then Nidal would find someone else for the task and he'd use Jack Zamora as another mindless undead.
***
"This is pretty good food," Jack said as he finished his plate. "I have got to say, I haven't had fresh meat in a while... how is it you're able to keep livestock in town?" Any animals that died in town tended to rise. That meant that cities were often devoid of even birds and rats.
Animals seemed to instinctively avoid the undead, as well. The couple of dogs that survivors had brought on the train had bolted when they approached Cincinnati.
"We have our ways," his host replied, even as he ate in more moderation. He nodded towards the windows, "The zoo has provided us with animals and room to keep more of them, we've a small herd of goats and a dozen or so cattle."
Jack sipped at the wine. He was more of a beer drinker, but it tasted decent enough. "A dozen cattle doesn't seem like much for so many people."
Captain Carney spoke, "Aw, you know how it is, the fighting men need the best food, right? We got to keep up our strength, after all."
Jack looked over at him, "I suppose." That made a certain level of sense... but this meal went far beyond "keeping up strength." In the fallen worl
d that Jack knew, this was sheer opulence. It wasn't just fresh meat, it was a whole steak, with potatoes, and freshly grown vegetables. It was pure luxury, especially when the last dozen or so meals he'd eaten had been canned beans.
"We've got quite a setup, Jack Zamora," Nidal Malik said, his raspy voice adopting a friendly tone. "A secure base of operations and plenty of room for expansion. You told Captain Carney that you were scouting for the rest of your people... this could be a place of refuge for them."
"That's quite the offer," Jack replied. "I don't know how many of my people would go for it, though. Food and security are nice, but we've been promising a new start out West, by the Free Western States."
A look of irritation flashed across Malik's face. "Jack Zamora, I thought that you were leading these people. Wouldn't they listen to you and do as you command?"
"It's not about commanding," Jack replied. "It's about doing what's right. Now, you seem to be set up well here, but what about in the long term? Do you have doctors or nurses? Do you have technicians or mechanics who can fix your equipment? Do you have enough ammo to defeat a major group of zombies?"
Nidal Malik's expression turned thoughtful. "Ah, so you want to make certain we are well equipped. I can understand that." He shot a look at Captain Carney, "We can discuss this a bit more. But we do have a doctor and more medical supplies than you might expect. As for weapons... Captain Hudson?"
The stocky black man looked up from his second plate of food, "Yes, Lord Regent?" The big man asked, spattering food out of the corners of his mouth.
"We can arrange a tour of our armory, in the morning, perhaps?"
The big man looked confused, "Lord Regent, I could do it now..."
"I'm sure that Captain Carney will want to make certain everything is in order, his offices are located nearby, after all," Malik said quickly. Captain Hudson didn't seem to understand, but Jack saw Carney give a nod. They wanted to hide something before that part of the tour, apparently.
If their situations were reversed, there was no way that Jack would have shown them his armory... but apparently they really wanted to impress him. He didn't really understand why, but it still left him feeling more nervous. These people had more firepower and equipment than any other group of survivors that Jack had come across.
He couldn't see why Malik wanted Jack's people. It wasn't as if he needed the manpower. For that matter, Jack had half-dreaded some request to join his train. Large numbers were hard to keep supplied and to organize. The situation here might be some kind of tyranny, but Malik had to be crazy if he thought his twenty or so escaped military prisoners would keep him alive against a real threat.
One guy with a rifle, Jack thought absently, and Malik's brains would be spread everywhere. If Jack really had wanted to do it himself, the steak knife he'd used at dinner could have done the job.
"Mind if I met with your doc? We've got a couple wounded, he might be able to give us some tips," Jack smiled as ingratiatingly as he could. Getting a doctor back to the train was a high priority. Despite his reservations about this place, if he could trade or barter for their doctor's services somehow, he would.
"Sure," Captain Carney smirked, "I'll take you to meet her after we're done here."
Malik shot Carney another look, this one of irritation. Apparently Malik had wanted to avoid that part of the tour entirely. Interesting.
"Well," Jack said, pushing his chair back, followed by Warrant Officer Knighton, "If it's all the same to you, I'd like to go meet with the doctor."
"Of course," Malik said, with another glance at Carney. "Captain Carney, please accompany them and answer any questions they may have."
Captain Carney seemed to have realized that he'd made a mistake. He hurried to his feet, leaving his half-finished meal. "Yes, Lord Regent," he said, his smile slightly shaky.
He led the way out, Jack and Knighton behind.
"Doc Madison has been with us since we left Fort Leavenworth," Captain Carney said as they walked down the corridor. "She's pretty good at her job, really cares about her patients."
"Army doc?" Jack asked. In his experience, military doctors ran the gamut, they could be some of the best... but they could also be lazy bastards who just wanted a steady paycheck.
"Yeah, well, sort of," Carney chuckled, "she's a civilian doc, worked there on post. But she used to be in the military." They went down a set of stairs and Carney led them through a service door and then down into the basement level. "We keep her clinic down here, it's uh... more secure."
"More secure?" Jack asked as they came out in the basement. Carney led them down a poorly lit corridor and then to another door, this one manned by two armed guards. Jack noted their presence and the fact that both of them, like the other armed guards he'd seen so far, were men.
Carney pulled out a key chain and then unlocked the door. The room beyond had light from a few raised windows, but it was still dimly lit. A woman pushed through a privacy curtain, her expression hard, "Carney, what do you..."
Captain Carney interrupted, "Doc Madison, we have guests." There was an edge to his voice that Jack didn't like. "I know you care a lot for your patients and you hate to be dragged away... but, how about you humor me and introduce yourself."
She flinched at Carney's tone and Jack wondered again if he should have just put a round in the back of Carney's head and called it a day. Jack stepped forward, hand extended, "Ma'am, I'm Captain Jack Zamora, US Army."
She stepped forward and took his hand. She had a firm handshake and she stood almost as tall as Jack. She wasn't old, though there were lines of worry and fear around her eyes. "Doctor Kathrine Madison," she replied. Up close, Jack could see that she had chocolate brown eyes and dark brown hair. Her skin was pale, though whether that was from being inside or worry, Jack didn't know.
"So," Jack said, "this is your clinic?"
Doctor Madison shot a look at Carney, one part worry and one part hate. She doesn't know what she can say... and Carney has something over her.
"Yes," she said, "this is my clinic." She led them past the privacy curtain and to a desk, "I haven't very much help, most of the Lord Regent's people are so very busy working in the fields." Her words were earnest, but her tone was bitter. "So it's hard to get any of them down here to help."
"Jack Zamora is the leader of another group of survivors," Carney stepped up next to the doctor and he put a hand on her shoulder, a gesture of familiarity that she flinched away from. Jack's hand twitched a bit as he fought the instinct to reach for the machete that he'd taken off at the outer security perimeter. Carney went on, seemingly oblivious to the effect he'd had on the others in the room, "Apparently they have some injuries that they wanted your opinion on."
"Well," Doctor Madison said stepping away from Carney, "maybe it would be best if I could see them. Perhaps I could visit your camp or--"
"Now, Doc," Carney grinned, "you know we can't spare you, even for a few hours."
Jack didn't miss the flinch on her face. She was a prisoner here, kept by Malik and his thugs. Jack's fists clinched and what he wanted to do was kill Carney... but there were two armed guards in the corridor. There were probably more of them nearby. If I do something now, he told himself, I'll just endanger the doctor and probably get myself and my people killed.
"Maybe we'll be able to arrange things, sometime," Jack said. "You're well supplied?"
"Yes," Doctor Madison took the opportunity to put more distance between herself and Carney. She moved over to a door and unlocked it. Inside, Jack saw rows of shelves. "The cool air down here helps to keep the medicines we have fairly stable. I've been able to treat a number of injuries and illnesses. In the process I've saved the lives of several of Captain Hudson's and Carney's men." Her expression shifted slightly, "I've even delivered a few children down here."
"I'm sure he's not interested in that," Captain Carney scoffed. "But I'll vouch for her other skills, she can patch my guys up if they get hurt."
Jack look
ed over at Warrant Officer Knighton, whose tense expression showed what he thought of Carney as well. Jack really wanted a few minutes alone to speak with the doctor, but he doubted that Carney would allow that.
"Well, Doctor," Jack nodded his head at her, "we'll let you get back to work. Thank you for your time."
"Good to meet you, Captain, I hope we get the chance to talk again" she replied, even as Carney led the way to the door. It was the most honest thing that Jack had heard all day.
***
Chapter Ten
"Did you get your work area cleaned up?" Nidal Malik demanded.
"Yes, Lord Regent," Captain Carney said. "I took care of it, they won't see anything out of place."
"How did the rest of the tour go?" Nidal asked, even as he carefully scribed letters into the book. This was the latest teachings from the Hand of God, which Nidal felt should be hand-written and copied, to preserve their holy nature. Besides, some of the words didn't work well when typed. Nidal had learned that after he destroyed two computers trying to write the words. The devices had become buggy and either stopped working, or in one case, exploded into flames.
"It went well," Captain Carney said. "I showed him around the palace and we went and looked at some of the farm land, just at dusk when all the dirt farmers were cleared out." He sneered, "No one got a chance to pitch some pitiful story to him or his people."
"Good," Nidal said as he finished the page. He straightened and rubbed at his back, sore from leaning over the table, his eyes aching from looking at the book so closely. He set the ink pen to the side and closed the inkwell. "What do you think, Captain?"
"I think we should kill him tonight and drag his corpse out to his train-full of do-gooders and show them what happens if they mess with us," Carney grated.
Nidal couldn't help but chuckle at that. "So direct... that might work, but our prisoners said they are organized. What happens if they put up a fight?"
"Then we kill them," Hudson spoke up. The big black man wasn't much on conversation. Nidal had expected just that from his other officer.
