by M. D. Massey
I gently but firmly grabbed her by the upper arms and moved her out of my way, pushing her up against the wall. I leaned forward and spoke low and slow, so my meaning wouldn’t be misinterpreted.
“Nadine, you and the other settlers are here as our guests until I say otherwise. Your continued presence here will depend largely on how useful you are to the group. If you prove to be anything other than absolutely helpful and cooperative, I will personally toss you out on your ass with nothing more than a knife and map back to the safe zones. Do I make myself clear?”
She nodded quietly, but her eyes spoke of rebellion and sedition. I’d have to deal with her more firmly before she stirred up any real trouble, but for now I had bigger fish to fry.
“Good. Now, I’m sure they could use your help in the mess hall.” She stared at me defiantly. “I’m not asking, Nadine,” I said menacingly.
She narrowed her eyes and huffed angrily. “This isn’t over, Scratch Sullivan.”
I shook my head and watched her go. “It will be when I toss you out a hatch,” I muttered as I stalked off to find Colin and the Doc.
I found Colin in the gymnasium, training some of his Wild Boys and a few of the settlers we’d rescued in hand-to-hand combat. He was demonstrating how to avoid a deader’s lunge while slicing the tendons in their thigh, in order to take away their mobility so they’d be less of a threat. It was a smart strategy, and not much different from what I’d taught Gabby in this very same room recently.
I stood by and watched, because as eager as I was to discuss our deader dog problem, I also wanted to see how he trained his people. After everyone had a decent handle on the technique he was teaching, he separated them into groups and had them work on multiple attacker scenarios. Three or more of his students would attack a single person at once, and they’d have to use footwork, angling, and body English to avoid the attacks while slicing their attackers at the knee joints to disable them. It was a useful drill, and I wished I’d thought of it.
When faced with multiple shamblers, it wasn’t prudent to try to take them out—even if you had a firearm. For one, the gunfire was sure to draw more deaders your way. Second, you might end up with a ghoul in the group, those deaders that moved just a little bit faster than the rest. One ghoul surprising you at the wrong moment could really mess up your day.
And third, there was always the element of Murphy’s Law. Whatever could go wrong, would go wrong in combat. You try to take out a group of shamblers with your spiked baseball bat like a real zombie-killing badass, but you slip in some zombie goo, or your bat breaks with the first swing. Instead of being the hero, you end up getting chomped on. Taking unnecessary risks was bad juju, for sure.
But it didn’t mean that you shouldn’t know how to deal with such situations. Back in the pre-War era, the folks I’d practiced with were fond of setting up no-win scenarios in training. Some of them had been former spec ops, some were SWAT, and some had served time. All of them knew that in real life, you rarely ended up fighting just one person. The idea behind those drills was to train you to expect a second assailant, and to always assume you’d be outnumbered in combat.
Colin was applying the same principles to fighting deaders, and I had to hand it to him. I was starting to see why he’d been able to keep his Wild Boys alive for so long. But watching him train these folks also made me wonder who’d taught him. I’d seen him fight, and the level of training and skill he displayed was world-class, on tier with top counter-terror and military operators I’d seen. I suspected that he knew things about fighting Them that I’d never even considered. I made a mental note to sit down over some whiskey with him soon, to find out more about his background and probe his knowledge.
Once everyone was working on the drill, he strolled over and leaned against the wall next me, crossing his ankles and watching the group as he spoke.
“When did you get in?” he asked.
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“You must’ve really missed me, to track me down as soon as you got home. Any trouble on the way back?”
I tsked. “I wish this was just a social call, but we have a serious problem.” I explained how we’d captured that punter, the story he’d shared with us, what we’d learned from Don Paco, and finding the killing field on the way back to the Facility. I also told him about the so-called demon dogs picking up our trail, and our narrow escape.
By the time I finished my tale, his eyes were riveted on me. After I finished, he looked away and rubbed the lower half of his face with concern.
He looked back to me again. “Are you sure this Don Paco guy said a witch might be involved?” I nodded. “Damn it, I hate witches.”
“Why? Are they really all that? Remember, a lot of this stuff is new to me. I’ve mostly just been dealing with deaders and vamps for the last eight years.”
He shrugged. “They’re very dangerous in their own way. They tend to avoid physical confrontations, and prefer to attack from a distance through their familiars, or they use their voice to seduce and control their opponents.” I gave him a quizzical look. “Think Saruman or Gríma Wormtongue in The Lord of the Rings.”
I nodded. “Got it. Like mind control.”
“Yes, but much subtler. Generally, it takes the typical witch a while to gain complete control over a victim. It begins with deception, with the witch gaining the confidence of their prey. Then, they gradually get their target to concede more and more of their free will, until eventually the witch has complete control of their prey’s mind. But a very powerful witch can turn a weak mind in seconds.”
He paused to yell some commands at the students, who were still working on the same drill, then turned back to me with a serious look. “The thing that makes them so dangerous is that they’re masters of deception. You could have a witch here in the Facility, and never even know it.”
“Sounds serious. What about curses and crap like that? Is any of that stuff in their playbook?”
Colin’s face blanched, and he looked away. “Yes, but it’s rare. You’d have to be dealing with an exceptionally powerful witch for them to have the juice to place a curse on you.”
I remembered something that Piotr had said to Colin when he was greeting us, something about the Curse of Cú Chulainn. I decided against pressing for more info on the topic. Instead, I changed gears.
“So, what do you think about these demon dog things? Any idea what they might be?”
“I’d say they’re definitely a threat. The thing the old man mentioned, El Cadejo? That’s basically the Latin American version of a black shuck or barghest. And he’s right; they tend to hunt alone, which leads me to agree with his assessment. I’m thinking these are familiars—dogs that have either been possessed, or raised from the dead to do the witch’s bidding.”
“As in demon possessed?” I asked.
He nodded. “I have some experience dealing with supernatural animals, and they can be difficult to fight one-on-one… never mind in a pack.” He paused for a moment, brow creased in thought. “Maybe we should try to catch or kill one to examine it, so I can see exactly what we’re dealing with.”
I slapped him on the shoulder. “I like the way you think. Let me track down the Doc and see if she can offer us any help.”
He laughed. “Good luck with that. Captain Perez disappeared the day after we arrived with the first group. She makes occasional appearances to boss Nadine and Janie around, then vanishes into thin air again. I still haven’t figured out where she’s been hiding.”
“Gabby will know where to find her. After I speak with her, I’ll let you know if she has anything we can use to trap a demon-possessed canine.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. Just don’t go on any dog catching expeditions without me.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. Somebody has to be the bait for the trap.”
SOLDIERS
Gabby found me before I found her. Her bedraggled appearance told me she hadn’t eaten or bathed yet, and f
rom the worried look on her face, I could tell she had bad news for me. The sounds of people arguing echoed at me from the direction in which she’d come. Something told me I wasn’t going to get much downtime today.
Gabby jogged up to me and shook her head. “The shouting you hear is Janie arguing with Dame Sweetlove—Anna—over the LARPers not helping out with cleaning and cooking. Anna says it’s because they have to be responsible for patrols and security, but Janie says the Facility is plenty secure, and they should be helping out in the mess like everyone else.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a deep breath. “Can’t we just let them work this out on their own?”
Gabby laughed silently through her nose, then her expression turned serious. “Normally I’d say no, we can’t, but Christopher says we’re missing three people. He called in everyone who was on guard duty and running patrols, just like you asked. But a patrol and one of the guards didn’t make it back.”
“Our people or theirs? Wait, scratch that—they’re all our people. But were they LARPers or settlers?”
“From what I understand, one LARPer, one from Canyon Lake, and one from Kara’s settlement.”
I rubbed my beard and sighed, because I’d been looking forward to a shower and shave. “Well, shit. We need to find them. Go get cleaned up and fed, and make sure Bobby does the same. Then, wait for me in the mess.”
“Can do.” She turned to go.
“Aw, hell. Sorry, Gabs, but I need a favor.”
She shrugged. “Sure thing. What’s up?”
“I need you to take me to the Doc’s lab.”
Since Gabby and the Doc had first taken me inside the Facility, I’d only ever been on the main level. But I knew there had to be more to the place. I was no scientist, but even I could figure out that the Doc had to have a lab somewhere. Moreover, I suspected the government had used deaders as test subjects—and if so, they sure as hell wouldn’t keep them on the main level.
It was a topic that I’d avoided bringing up thus far, not because I wasn’t curious, but because I’d had more pressing matters at hand—not turning into a shambler and rescuing Kara being tops on that list. But I’d been thinking about it since the events in Austin, and knew I’d need to bring it up with them eventually.
Gabby tried to be evasive with me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Scratch,” she said, giving me a blank look.
“You’re a shitty liar, kid. No, you’re a good liar—which is why I don’t believe you. Your poker face is what gives you away. So, let’s cut the bullshit. Just take me to the super-secret sublevel or wherever the Doc does all her hocus pocus, alright?”
Gabby chewed her lip and narrowed her eyes. “She’s going to be pissed. And besides, it’s classified.”
I laughed so hard I nearly snorted. “Are you shitting me? Look around you, kid—you see any federal agents waiting to lock us up for poking our nose into government secrets?”
She screwed her mouth sideways and frowned. “Just because you don’t see them around, doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
“Gabby, for the last eight years I’ve been waiting for some remnant of the government to return and rescue us all from this nightmare. And in all that time, not once have I ever seen any evidence that any government infrastructure survived the War and invasion.”
She went all stone-faced on me and clammed up. Huh.
“That is, unless you know something I don’t… aw, who am I kidding? Of course you do. Because between you and me and the Doc, I’m always the last one to get the important, earth-shattering news.”
The shouting down the hall got louder, and Gabby clucked her tongue. “C’mon, I’ll show you how to get to her lab and the containment area—but I’m not going with you. Once I let you in, you’re on your own.”
I did a double-take at the word “containment.” Even though I’d suspected it, it was still a shock to find out I was right. “Containment area? Never mind, I’m sure I’ll find out when I get there.”
Gabby led me down several corridors into an area of the Facility that was rarely used. After checking to make sure we hadn’t been followed, she opened a false panel that concealed a keypad, into which she entered a twelve-digit combination. A section of the wall swung back, revealing descending stairwell.
She gestured toward the door. “Hurry up, before someone comes. I’ll shut the door behind you. Aunt Lorena will have to let you back out again.”
I shook my head. “You two and your secrets.”
Gabby gave me an indecipherable look, and shooed me with her hands. “Hurry, before anyone sees! I’ll find Bobby and meet you in the mess hall when you’re done.”
“Kid, you, me, and the Doc are going to have a long talk—very, very soon.” I sighed and headed through the door and down the stairs, with the whine of hydraulics and whoosh of an airlock echoing behind me.
The stairs continued down several more flights, but the placard on the wall at the first landing said “Research Sublevel 1,” so I went through the metal door to see what I could see. The layout and decor were similar to the level above: mid-century bomb shelter. The walls were painted in an ugly light green color, and the concrete floor was sealed and polished. The hall I was in led straight ahead and to the right. I chose to go right at random, figuring I’d backtrack if I didn’t find the Doc.
The hallway was lined with windows, and behind those windows were a multitude of labs, complete with chemistry analyzers, work stations, refrigerators, hundreds of glass beakers and test tubes, Bunsen burners, microscopes, centrifuges, and the like. It was shocking, seeing a place that was this clean and sterile, when the world outside was anything but. There were also offices down here, all of them dark and devoid of life. I walked past the labs and empty offices until I turned a corner to another hallway, identical to the one I’d just left.
Midway down that hall, I found the Doc in a lab. Why she was working in that specific lab, I hadn’t a clue, because they’d all looked the same to me. She had her eyes glued to a microscope, and was taking notes on a pad off to the side as she worked. I depressed a button next to the door, a six-inch aluminum square like they used to have in office buildings next to automatic doors. The glass door slid to the side with a whoosh, and I walked into the lab.
“I was wondering when Gabby was going to spill the beans,” she said, without looking up from her microscope.
“Well, you have to give the kid some credit, because she did play dumb for all of sixty seconds before she cracked.”
The Doc made a few more notes on the pad, then removed a pair of latex gloves and tossed them in a wastebasket close by. She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her lab coat and gave me an inscrutable smile.
“Sadly, she’s unable to say no to just about anything you ask. Normally I’d discourage that sort of hero worship, but for the most part you’ve been a positive influence on her.”
I looked around the lab, taking it all in. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her, Lorena.”
“Hmmm… I believe that’s the first time you’ve addressed me by my first name.” She pursed her lips. “Don’t make a habit of it. I need to maintain an air of authority around here, now that you’ve brought all these strays home with you.”
“If I’d have thought about it, I would have suggested that you pin some birds on your collars, just for the added effect.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know as well as I do that these people would be in awe of any officer in uniform, regardless of their rank. But I doubt my superiors would appreciate it if I brevetted myself in order to impress a few civilians. Just letting them inside this facility is enough to get me court-martialed as it is.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Before you give me the grand tour, how about you fill me in on just who your ‘superiors’ are, and how in the hell there’s still a chain of command left after all this time.”
“My superiors are members of the U.S. government and military
who went underground before the bombs fell. When the invasion started—well, they opted to remain hidden to ensure a continuity of government, just in case things really got out of hand.”
“Lucky them. So, if this remnant of our government still exists, why haven’t they organized and sent out the cavalry to save our asses?”
She reached back and adjusted her ponytail, pulling it even tighter than it already was. “Mostly because they simply don’t have the resources or people to pull it off. After weighing all our options, command decided that the project I was involved with, as well as a few other R&D projects, held the most promise for eventually giving us the ability to defeat Them.
“Scratch, the reality is that there’s only a few hundred people, government and military, left in installations like this one across the country. We remain in contact via satellite communications, but as the orbit of those satellites decay and we lose them one by one, our infrastructure is breaking down. Not only that, but some of our installations have been infiltrated and destroyed.”
“Thus, the secrecy.”
She nodded. “Exactly.”
“So, you’re taking a huge risk by letting these settlers in here.”
“A calculated risk, actually. Until now, I didn’t have a serum that was stable enough to test on a broader basis. Oh, it’s been coming along over the last eight years, but slowly. That is, until I started running tests on the blood samples I took from you before you left for Austin.”
She paused, then pointed to a nearby stool. “You may want to sit down for this.”
“I’ll stand, thanks.” The Doc shrugged and sat down, leaning an elbow on the counter as she did so.
“Scratch, you were selected as a test subject for this project, before you got injured. Back in Afghanistan, you and several other subjects were exposed to an inert version of the deader virus, in the hopes that your body would develop antibodies or a resistance to the pathogen that could be used in research to develop a vaccine at a later date.
