"Yeah, that funny," Sarah said. She wasn't smiling however, instead she chewed at the inside of her lip. "Neil...where's Long Island?"
He pointed straight ahead. "All of that's Long Island. It goes for like fifty miles. Maybe more. If your daughter’s not at wherever this lane leads to, we'll need an address if we’re going to have any hope of finding her. Not to mention a way to get across the East River."
Just at the moment they had only one option when it came to driving: a hard turn south on the FDR. The highway hugged the East River, hanging over it for a spell; they followed it for only a mile before they came to a massive set of iron gates that stretched across the lane.
"That's new," Neil said, unnecessarily. The gate opened as the Rover approached and closed again the second they had cleared the track.
On this side of the gate the debris on the highway had been pushed back forming what appeared to be a large square parking lot. From a squat shack of new concrete blocks at the back of the lot, a man in a black uniform emerged. In one hand he carried a clipboard, while the other rested on a gun at his hip.
"Is this where we get vaccines?" Neil asked, with a polite smile.
"Do I look like a fucking nurse?" the man replied. Before Neil could do more than splutter, the man shoved the clipboard at him. "Fill it out completely."
"Wait," Neil said in a rush. He jumped out of the Rover and hurried after the man who was already halfway back to the little building. "Wait, I don't know if we want to go in just yet."
"Well, you can't stay here," the man replied. He pointed ahead of them where there were two more of the huge gates. "You got two choices: that way sends you back out into the world and the other one sends you onto receiving where your items are inventoried for trade."
"Can't I leave the car here for a bit?" Neil asked. "You see, we don't know if we want to go in or not. I'd like to check it out."
The man gave Neil a long look, before glancing back at the shack. Making sure they wouldn't be overheard, he said in a whisper, "Maybe we could cut a deal. Ten bullets buys you an hour of free parking. You still got to obey the rules though, no weapons inside."
Was that a good price? Neil wondered. Ten bullets seemed like a lot to leave his car sitting in an empty lot. "Six bullets," he countered. "Or I come back in the morning and take my chances with the next shift."
"Fine, I'll take six. But one hour only. After that, I'll have you towed."
"Good, good," Neil said, eager to please. From his spare clip, he thumbed out the brass and dropped them into the man's hand. He then went back to the Rover and put his gun onto the driver's seat. "He's giving me an hour to check this out, he said to Sarah and Sadie.
"Do you want me to come with?" Sadie asked. "Someone should watch your back."
Neil shook his head. "Better you stay and keep Sarah company. I don't want her out all here by herself. Besides, I think everything will be cool. They're traders, right? Not mercenaries." Under his breath he added: "I hope."
After being frisked, the man in the black uniform pointed Neil along a walkway that extended straight down to the river and to what looked like a cruise ship. It wasn't one of the mega-ships; still he found himself, minutes later, high over the water on a gang-plank that swayed under him as he walked. It shimmied as well as though it were held together with string.
Neil's hands gripped the rope runners on either side of the footpath and an actual sigh of relief escaped him when he made it to the ship.
It was a close vessel with not a lot of room to spare and what room Neil could see was taken up by people. People of every sort leaned against the white hull, or stretched out on the decks, or squatted in passageways that were so narrow Neil had to turn sideways to get by. There were so many people that the boat stank of them.
Along with the stink, what stood out the most were the proliferations of signs. The majority were unofficial, asking if anyone had seen this or that person—usually offering a reward for verifiable information. These notes were of every color, shape, and size and were hung on every available surface, giving the cruise ship a Gypsy air.
More formal signs sent him to a converted casino, and though they were official looking--uniform in size and color, the signs didn't make much sense:
Receiving: Less Than Minimum
Receiving: 1-3 K
Receiving: Over 3 K
Receiving: Manservant Category A
Receiving: Manservant Category B
Receiving: Manservant Category C
Neil wandered around the casino in a daze, oblivious to the sudden stir he caused about him. When his confusion meter went into the red, he found another man in a black uniform.
"Can you help me? I'm looking to ask..."
The man cut him off, "Where is yellow form?"
"My form?" Neil asked. The man had a thick Russian accent that turned form into something that sounded like foam. "Did you say form? It's, uh, my wife has it back at the uh, where you do the uh..." Neil pointed back the way he came.
"You can't get far without form," the man said. "Though at time like this you won't get far at all."
"A time like what?"
"Huh? You cannot read?" The man gestured with a wave of his arm toward all the signs. Neil made to complain but then saw that the man had finished his gesture by pointing at the smallest of the signs: Receiving Hours 9-6.
"What about to..."
"No exceptions to rule." Abruptly he left.
Neil turned to watch him go and came face to...chest with a very tall black man. The smaller man turned his pallid brow up and gaped.
The stranger stared back angrily. "Neil Martin?" he asked as if it was an accusation.
"Yes, that's me," Neil said. The thought of lying didn't enter his head even for a second.
"Follow me."
Through the thicket of humanity the man marched off with strides so long that Neil had to jog every fifth step in order to keep up. "Where are we going?" he asked, puffing with the urgency of their speed. "And how do you know me? Excuse me? Sir? Can you slow down?"
The man ignored him and went on with his particular pace until Neil was red in the face, as well as completely baffled as to where they were or really, where they had been. Finally Neil lost his patience. "Look! Mister, I'm not going any further until you tell me what's..."
Before Neil could utter the last word, the man had spun and seized Neil by the collar of his coat. "Listen up, you little shit. You're coming with me and that's that, and if I get anymore of your lip you'll be sorry."
Neil wasn't the coward he had been in the old days. In the last eight months he had found a modicum of courage within his heart, and with so many people staring at the sudden entertainment, he didn't feel as though he could back down so easily. After all there were more of the black-garbed men in attendance. They had to represent some sort of authority.
"I don't think what you say is altogether true," Neil said, doing his best not to stutter with his fear. "I will decide where I go and when."
Though a ghost of a smile played on the man's lips, his eyes were hard, as was his voice: "The only choice you have is if you come along with your teeth still in your mouth or not."
"In my mouth, I think," Neil said, having reached the limits of his courage.
Before the black man could resume his march, he was accosted by two more men. They swaggered up, clearly military men by their garb and their bearing. Neil was astonished to recognize one of them: Colonel Williams—the same man who had stolen everything he had possessed and set him loose in a zombie infested forest without a weapon. The same man who had tried to turn Sarah into a whore by holding the safety of her parents against her.
He was probably the last person Neil wanted to see just then. Hoping not to be recognized, Neil dropped his chin and edged closer to his kidnapper.
“Everything ok here?’ the colonel asked. The man with him was a burly sort. He rolled his head on his thick shoulders and made a display of rubbing the scarred knuck
les of both his heavy hands.
“We’re great,” the black man replied in a snarl.
“Is that so?” Williams asked. “It sure looked like there was some sort of issue here.” He turned his gaze on Neil and the smaller man had to suppress the urge to shudder.
Neil shook his head. “No, just a misunderstanding. We’re good, but thanks.”
This was a surprising answer to the black man. He coughed a little and then made a show of wrapping his arm around Neil’s shoulders. “You see? Just a misunderstanding. So, if you don’t mind.”
He began to push past the colonel, when Williams stopped Neil. “I know you from somewhere. We’ve met before, right?”
Neil attempted an innocent shrug, considered answering in a thick Jersey accent, discarded the idea, and then shrugged a second time without really answering the question.
“He doesn’t know you,” Neil’s kidnapper replied, before trying again to shepherd Neil away.
Williams stopped them a second time. He took a hold of Neil’s coat and dragged him around so that they were face-to-face. “But he does. I know you, but from where? It must have been…” Williams blinked as recognition flooded his face. “You’re the corporate guy from Jersey! The Wall Street pirate.”
“That’s me,” Neil replied in a squeaky voice.
“So you lived,” Williams said, looking impressed. “Good for you, and what about that little fireball you had with you? The punk zombie hunter?”
“She’s alright, I guess.”
“That’s just great,” the colonel said with fake enthusiasm. Though he smiled, he had the cold, calculating eyes of a snake. “We should get a drink and talk about old times.”
The black man grabbed Neil’s arm and said, “He’s already going to have a drink, with me.”
“But we’re old friends,” Williams replied. He flicked his eyes to the black man and then back to Neil—a clear warning to Neil that he was in danger.
“I—I guess we could have a drink, Colonel,” Neil replied in confusion. “But only one. I’m, uh, double parked outside.”
“Excellent!” the colonel cried, slapping Neil on the back with enough force to knock the wind out of him. “I hope you like Coors. It’s piss, but it’s cold piss.”
The black man watched in anger as his victim was directed out of his grip and up a set of stairs. When they reached the first landing Williams slammed Neil up against the wall. “What the hell is going on?” the colonel demanded. “What did that man want?”
“I—I really don’t know,” Neil said. “I just got here when he accosted me.”
“They must want something,” the colonel replied. “They’ll get it, too, unless you align yourself properly.”
“They?” Neil asked in confusion.
“That was one of the Blacks from Philadelphia. You ever been there?” The colonel watched Neil close.
“No. Never. Not even in the old days. I always…thought…” Neil’s words came to a dribbling halt. Up to this point he had marked it a good thing that he was sure there had been a mistake involved and that when everyone realized he was just Neil martin they would leave him alone. However now he knew better.
He had never been to Philadelphia, but Ram had. He was after Cassie, the Queen Bee of the Blacks—a woman who hated Neil with a passion. That was the connection.
Williams couldn’t help but notice the pause. “What is it?” he demanded.
“Maybe we should take that beer somewhere private,” Neil suggested.
“In here,” the colonel said after a quick glance around. “You’ll be safe, but only as long as you play square with me.”
They ducked through a door—the only one Neil had seen so far that was guarded. On either side were two of the black-uniformed men; both were armed with machine guns. They weren’t the colonel’s men. Williams gave them a nod but it wasn’t with his normal easy, familiar manner.
The door led to a plush suite of executive rooms. These were markedly different from the sweat smelling gypsy world of the main part of the boat. Everything here was dark mahogany, shining brass, and thick carpeting.
There were a number of people seated around a long table. They had been staring at each other in an uncomfortable silence, but now they turned their silent faces toward the colonel. A man at the head of the table swiveled toward them and smiled.
“Punctual as always, Colonel.” The man was blonde and pale in all respects save about his eyes. These were swarthy and hooded. He had a pronounced Russian accent so that there was a lag after everything he said as the people around him tried to make sense of his garbled words. “We are missing a few of guests, so please, if you could make yourself comfortable. Oh, and do leave servants outside.”
“Actually, I need just a moment to discuss things with my associate,” the colonel said. “Can I use…”
“You are one who call meeting and now you wish its delay?”
“It’ll just be a minute or two, Yuri,” Williams assured.
“A few of minutes?” Yuri shrugged and turned to the group of men seated at the table. “What of you? Do any begrudge a few of minutes?”
Not many looked happy at the delay, but none raised a fuss, though one had a simple request.
“When you are done with him, Colonel, I’d like a word as well.”
Neil blanched at the sight of the speaker: white linens garbed his tall frame, while upon his head was layered hair that resembled silver waves. It was the false prophet of New Eden.
“You…” With his surprise and fear mounting, Neil could barely speak. “H-how did you get here?”
“The truth is I am here by the will of our Lord God. Though, as a Denier, I’m sure you are probably seeking more of a mundane answer: I arrived by car. We had a talk with your friend, Mark yesterday morning, not long after you left him to die. How strange that our destinies and our destinations are so entwined.”
The colonel put his arm out to Neil and gently thrust him back, saying, “They aren’t entwined yet, Jesus Christ Super-star. Right now he’s mine.”
“No! Hold on,” Neil cried, trying, and failing, to disentangle himself from the colonel. “Don’t I get say so in all of this? I am my own man!”
Even as the words left his mouth a newcomer entered the room, and where a second before Neil was trying to get away from the colonel, now he nudged in close.
It was Cassie, but not the Cassie that Neil remembered. In the half-year since he had last seen her she had matured: she stood tall and straight, and across her muscular shoulders she wore a leopard print shawl. Her rich dark skin was bejeweled with diamonds and on her arms were bands of gold. When her eyes flashed it was with the power and surety of a modern day Nefertiti.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Neil,” she said. “You was never a man, and now you is even less of one. Yuri, I wanna purchase him.”
The world began to spin in Neil’s eyes. “You can’t do that,” he said breathlessly.
“I can!” Cassie declared. “You ain’t aligned with any faction. Three barrels of fuel-oil should do it.”
“Unless there is a counter-bid,” Yuri said, looking to the colonel and Abraham.
“One second,” Williams said, pulling Neil as far to the back of the room as they could go. “Come clean with me, Neil,” the colonel whispered. “If you give me the truth, I’ll let you keep half of what you have. You may not think that’s a great deal, but it’s better than losing it all to her. The rumors out of Philadelphia are horrible. I heard she’ll chop your balls of and choke you to death with them.”
“My b-balls?”
“That’s what I’ve heard. So what do you have that they want? Fuel? Ammo?”
The colonel had grown loud in his excitement and was overheard. Cassie snorted: “It ain’t what he gots, it’s who he is.”
A man at the table with a grey streaked beard looked disgusted as he asked, “Are we trafficking in human beings now?”
“For the right price, da,” Yuri said
. He then called to one of his guards, speaking in Russian. The guard left at a run.
Abraham watched him go and then said, “I care nothing for the Denier; his fate is just. I shall put my bid in for the infant who’s been traveling with him. Sixteen-hundred cans of food.”
“I’m not selling her at any price,” Neil growled as rage flared within him, pushing back against the fear and the helplessness he’d been feeling.
“I was not offering it to you,” Abraham scoffed. “But to our host.” He inclined his head to Yuri. “We are, for the moment, within his domain and our lives are in his hands to dispose as he wishes.”
“Can you help me?” Neil whispered to Colonel Williams.
“Perhaps. Tell me you have more than just a baby.”
“I do,” Neil told him. “I have about sixty gallons of fuel and two-hundred cans of food. It’s not much, but you can have it all if you help me.”
The colonel rolled his eyes. “Two-hundred cans? Is that a joke? You aren’t worth one can.” Williams shook off Neil’s pleading hands and went to his seat at the table.
Only one person said anything in Neil’s defense: the man with grey in his beard. “Are we really going to let this pretend Jesus buy a baby? And this bitch buy a man? Do any of you even care what’s going to happen to them?”
“Listen to me, Denier,” Abraham said. “Eve is a gift from our Lord God. She will sit at my right hand. She shall be revered among my people. She shall be queen!”
Cassie laughed at this. “You mean you is gonna pedophile her as soon as she can walk? You is one sick white-boy.”
Glowering in a rage, Abraham asked, “What about you? Tell us what you plan do with this man.”
“Prolly carve the white off him. That or burn it off. Whatever I do to him he’ll deserve it.
Neil swooned and clutched the wall just as his family came in.
“My Eve!” Abraham exclaimed, rushing forward.
Sadie was perplexed about what was happening, nonetheless she saw danger approaching and before anyone else could react she stepped in front of Sarah, who held the baby clutched to her bosom.
“What do you want?” Sadie demanded aggressively through clenched teeth. Abraham might have been a false prophet, but Sadie was a real hell-cat and her claws were out. Prudently, the man stopped just out of reach. He was pushed aside by Cassie who looked Sadie up and down in astonishment.
The Undead World (Book 2): The Apocalypse Survivors Page 30
