The Living and the Dead Page 11

  Kilgore swiveled in his seat and looked back at Meinke and said, “Does your tracking contraption work?”

  Meinke looked down at his device, as if hoping to derive some courage from it, then brought his attention back to Kilgore’s face. He found it hard to look at Kilgore directly for too long. “It should.”

  “It better,” Kilgore replied. “Is the sat-phone where you said it was?”

  Kilgore returned his attention to the device, “Yes, sir. It’s still there, and it’s still on.”

  “Good,” Kilgore said, spinning around in his seat. “Let’s get this thing in the air.”

  Soto flipped a couple switches, and the blades began to swirl faster. He gently pulled back on the control stick and the helicopter lifted slightly off the ground, but Kilgore put out a hand and placed it over Soto’s hand.

  “Hold on,” Kilgore said.

  Soto couldn’t figure what Kilgore’s game was. Was he calling this mission off? Was this some sick test of loyalty?

  “We don’t want to do this totally in the dark,” Kilgore said and reached out and snapped on the helicopter’s exterior lights. A heavy beam of light splashed along the ground in front of them looking like a shaft of sunlight cutting through the dark.

  “Now, let’s go,” Kilgore said, removing his hand.

  Soto took the chopper up into the night sky and they headed northward.

  Chapter 20

  The Waiting Game

  Old man Schultzy heard the pounding of the helicopter’s rotors, but that’s all he knew. The reverberating beat echoed off the trees and resounded in his direction. He couldn’t see the chopper, but guessed it was on the opposite side of the complex and completely out of view from his position.

  He wondered if maybe he had been spotted and they were sending up a helicopter to ferret him out of his position. If that was the case, then he knew it was over for him. At his age, there was no outrunning an attack helicopter.

  Peering into the darkness, he tried to see where the sound was coming from, but he saw nothing. The noise seemed to intensify, and a helicopter appeared in the night sky, rising slowly above the far building. Schultzy brought his rifle up and trained it on the helicopter. It was way past his practical range, but it was so big that he knew if he fired off enough shots, he would score a hit. What a hit would do, other than make them aware of his position, he did not know. Maybe he would get lucky? He doubted it though.

  His finger tensed on the trigger, but he released it, figuring that whoever was leaving would be fewer people to deal with once the shooting started. Unless they were coming for him. If it wasn’t, then there was no use giving away his position too soon.

  If he had even wanted to shoot, the moment passed as the helicopter shot northward, its rotors whirring rhythmically, like the beating of dragon’s wings. He followed its lights in the sky until they winked out in the distance and he was alone in the woods.

  One last check of his watch told him he had a half hour before he started the real shoot out. That is if Madison did her job. Or if a blitzkrieg of soldiers didn’t shoot out the door and surge in his direction. Then he’d have to make a decision - fight or flight?

  Chapter 21

  Those That Roam at Night

  Russell stood at the door, his hand on the handle, as the zombies stacked behind him like jets on a runway at O’Hare Airport on a bad day. Only the stink coming off the zombies was worse than any jet fuel fumes.

  There was really no way to listen to anything. The zombie’s light moans and groans covered any noise that might come from the corridor. In fact, they were so loud, Russell was surprised that the guards hadn’t heard them clamoring up the stairs. If there was a thing about zombies you could count on, they didn’t move stealthily. He turned and tried to look back down the stairs for any sort of cue from Maggie. He saw nothing but rotted faces staring back at him, so he was on his own to make the decision.

  He took one last look at his watch and it read three thirty-five in the morning. They had been aiming for more like four, but the zombies were more compliant than they had thought. Getting them out of the basement and up the stairs had taken a lot less time than they had expected.

  Besides, Russell knew that nearly all the Manor people were probably already awake and ready. At least the ones in on the plan. There were those in the ranks that couldn’t be trusted, but there were enough that did that he felt that this plan might work. Or at least, he hoped it would. He knew it was the Hail Mary of Hail Mary’s but it was better than waiting for Kilgore to take them out, one-by-one.

  His hand tensed on the handle, putting minute pressure on it, unconsciously trying to be as quiet as possible. It took him about five seconds to realize that there was no use to being gentle about it. Once the door was open, and the zombies entered the hallway, there was no hiding them. He pushed the door handle down swiftly and the lock clicked open and the door swung wide open as he ducked out of the way.

  Surprisingly, the hallway was empty. They had expected one guard, but there were none and Russell counted this as a blessing. This would give them a few more minutes before the shit hit the fan.

  Light streamed into the dark stairwell and it was Maggie’s cue to herd the zombies out the door. She didn’t hesitate and went to work on the control panel. The zombies jumped into action and surged past Russell, who hugged the wall, standing just out of the way of the stumbling and staggering herd.

  Maggie followed up at the end of the line and when she got beside Russell, she said, “Did you see those fuckers go?”

  Russell just nodded and said, “Head them down the hallway towards the rooms where the soldiers are sleeping.”

  “Fuck, yeah,” Maggie said and he could see a smile on her face as she passed by him and moved into the hallway. She looked almost like a sorcerous, working some sort of dark magic. Her fingers danced over the keys on her control vest as she worked her electronic mojo on the zombies, pushing them ahead of her down the hallway.

  Russell slid out from the doorway, stepped into the hall, and marveled at their little undead army as they shambled along. Despite his cautious nature, he thought that they actually might make something happen.

  Lodwick stood poised outside of Jo’s room with two other soldiers. All three of them were armed. The two soldiers had rifles and Lodwick had his sidearm ready. Plus Lodwick had brought some toys along.

  The first toy was a leather whip. He had never whipped anyone before, but he thought it sounded like fun. In fact, an electric sense of anticipation quivered through his body like a teenager waiting to cop his first feel or maybe even getting to go all the way. The whip would get them the information they wanted. If it didn’t, the second toy certainly would. It was a large pair of metal clippers. Snipping off a finger or two would open a closed mouth. At least to scream, maybe more.

  Even if she talked, he might just take a few more digits, just to make an example of her.

  But first things first. They had to get inside her room.

  On the way up to the second floor, he had drilled the two soldiers on the game plan. They would get to her room. They’d stand in front of the door, weapons ready. He would whip open the door and they would rush in and get her from her bed. Hopefully, they’d scare the shit out of her in the process. Shock and awe, baby, shock and awe.

  Then he would get to have his fun.

  Lodwick re-positioned the men a little and edged in toward the door. He reached for the door handle and let his hand rest there for a moment, then looked back at the two soldiers, making sure they were both ready.

  Lodwick nodded at them. Both of them nodded back and Lodwick returned his attention to the door. He nodded his head twice and then when he nodded it a third time, he turned the knob and whipped the door open.

  “GO! GO! GO!” Lodwick shouted

  That was their cue, and they snapped on their flashlights and rushed into the room like a trained SWAT team. Their weapons were aimed and ready to fire at anything, sweepin
g the room with flashlights.

  The living room and kitchen were empty with no signs of life at all. The place was tidy but cramped. There was a small nook seating area outside the kitchen. A cup and a plate set on the table looking lonely by themselves.

  “The bedroom,” Lodwick said. “Go now.”

  The two soldiers went to the door just off the living room and the first one smashed the door open and entered, shouting, “Time to get up, bitch.” The other soldier followed. Lodwick was the last in.

  Their flashlights danced around the room like wild searchlights, but the room was empty. There was a bed, a nightstand, and a smaller dresser. The bed was made with the sheets and a blanket pulled up and neatly tucked in.

  “Check under the bed,” Lodwick said.

  One of the soldiers leaned down and splashed his flashlight beam under the bed, but saw nothing. He stood up and said, “Clear.”

  Lodwick’s head swiveled around the room until his eyes fell on a closet. He nodded toward the other soldier and said, “Check it.”

  The other soldier slowly approached the door and his fellow soldier followed to act as a back-up. The first soldier grabbed the door handle and ripped the door open.

  The only thing in the closet were several pairs of pants and shirts hanging from a rod. A soiled set of sheets sat wadded up on the floor.

  “Where the hell is she?” Lodwick asked.

  “Follow me,” Kinsler said as he moved along the corridor, his gun still in his hand.

  “Where are we going?” Jo asked.

  “I’m doing what I should have done days ago, I’m getting the hell out of Dodge.”

  “You’re leaving?” she asked just as they approached an intersection of corridors and Kinsler slowed down.

  He slid up close to the wall and cautiously looked around the corner. She could tell from his body language that the coast was clear.

  “Who are you looking for?” she asked.

  “Lodwick. And actually, he’s looking for you and you don’t want him to find you,” he said.

  “What is he going to do to me?”

  “Nothing good.”

  “Why are you leaving?”

  “Because this place has gone batshit crazy. Kilgore’s flipped out. Lodwick is a sadist and Kilgore just gave him the green light to go medieval on your ass.”

  Kinsler took another peek around the corner and then looked back at Jo. “We’ll take the stairs to the second floor, then cut across…”

  Jo cut him off, “Going upstairs is not the way to getting out of here.”

  “I know that,” Kinsler replied. “I have to get a friend.”

  “Why don’t you just let me go and get him on your own?” she asked. “I’m going to just slow you down.”

  “Listen, if Lodwick finds you, then you are in for a world of hurt.”

  “Why do you care?”

  Kinsler glanced down at the floor for a moment, then back to Jo. “I joined the Army to protect people. Our country. When the world went to shit, that’s what we did. Colonel Kilgore kept us going. He helped save a lot of people. He is a good man. Or, at least, he was. I doubt I would be alive without him, but things have changed. Something’s off about him now. It’s like something got inside and twisted him. I’ve actually seen him change right before my eyes over the last few weeks. It’s like some weird Jekyll and Hyde shit, I kid you not. He never would have done some of the things I’ve seen him do. Never. Yeah, I know you’ve only seen the worst of him, but he has done a lot of good.

  Because of what he did for me. For the men, I can’t fight him,” he paused taking another look around the corner, then looked back to Jo. “I doubt I could anyway, but I can’t stand by anymore and watch it all go down the shitter. I have to leave and the least I can do is take you with me.”

  “I can’t go,” she said. “My people are here. I have to do what I can to protect them.”

  “You don’t stand a chance. You have no weapons and we have all the power.” He stopped and corrected himself. “They have all the power.”

  “You could get us weapons”

  “I can’t help you kill my men. The only offer on the table is to get you out of here. That’s all.” He held her in a long, hard stare.

  “It will have to be all of us,” she said putting some force behind her words. “It’s all of us or none of us.”

  “I can’t do that. There’s no getting all of you out. It just can’t be done.”

  “Then you need to let me go,” she said.

  “If Lodwick finds you out on your own, you’re done. He’ll shoot you on sight. Or worse.”

  “I can’t leave.”

  Kinsler closed his eyes and leaned his head back for a moment, then said, “Stay with me until I get Jones and get him out with me.”

  “Why are you getting Jones and not all of us?” she asked.

  “Because he’s my friend and Kilgore fucked him over. If he stays, Lodwick or Kilgore will kill him for sure.”

  It was Jo’s turn to consider her options.

  “Okay, I’m on board, but this is how we’ll do it,” she said.

  Kinsler’s eyebrows went up and his expression turned to a question mark.

  Maggie’s zombie herd turned a corner and found its first guard. A young soldier named Holland. He was from Texas but had none of the swagger most people had come to expect from people from Texas. His expertise was a flight mechanic, but in Kilgore’s new army, every man was a soldier. It just turned out that Private Holland wasn’t a very good one and was about as far from being anything related to Texas as you can get. In fact, he was somewhat mousey and bookish. Maybe that was his downfall because instead of being on guard, he was lost in a paperback copy of a John D. MacDonald mystery he had found in the reading room. His weapon leaned against the wall at his side.

  Yes, he heard something, but it was in the background as MacDonald’s hero, Travis McGee, tried to rescue a damsel in distress.

  With the electricity off, a gas lantern was the only illumination, and it cast long Halloween shadows down the hallway. It hung from a long metal spike pounded into the wall.

  Of course, once the zombies turned the corner, he came out of his reading trance. The paperback flopped out of his hand, the pages fluttering in the air like bird’s wings as the book fell to the floor. He stumbled backward a step and knocked his rifle over, sending it clattering down onto the floor.

  Private Holland’s eyes went as wide as pie plates and they fixed on the undead wall of flesh headed his way. It was as if he had been bewitched by their presence. Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen that many undead? Being locked into keeping Kilgore’s choppers and planes in the air had been his focus. With exception of strays, his exposure to the undead had been few and far between.

  Maggie saw Private Holland’s plight through the shambling heads and shoulders of her undead thralls. That’s when she decided to go all out, using her electronic wizardry to spur the zombies forward as she pressed buttons on the control vest. The problem was that no matter how compelled the zombies were, they never moved all that fast. Still, the fact that Private Holland was in a mild state of shock and the zombies were moving faster than most of the undead, she cut the distance between Holland and the lead zombies remarkably fast.

  “Help!” Holland yelled, his voice high pitched like a young girl. He looked over his shoulder and screamed again, “Hey, I need some help out here.”

  He ducked down and reached for his rifle, but instead, he kicked it, sending it skidding down the hall.

  Team Maggie got another break. If it hadn’t been such a horrible situation, it might have been comical.

  The time it took Private Holland to retrieve his rifle was enough to allow the zombie herd to get within ten feet of him. In his panic, he fumbled with the rifle for two seconds, his fingers, slick with sweat, slipped off the safety twice before he switched it to fire.

  His aim was wild at best, but he pulled the trigger repeatedly sending bul
lets flying in every direction. Some flew into zombies. Some flew into the ceiling and ricocheted off the floor. A few hit zombie torsos. Only one was a headshot, taking one zombie out of commission.

  The herd fell on him as he continued pulling the trigger even though he was out of bullets. That’s when the real screaming started, high pitched and full of pain and fear as the zombies tore into him with their teeth and hands.

  This was the first death that night. Many more were to come.

  Kinsler and Jo heard the shots as they made their way down a hallway on the second floor. They sounded like they were coming from inside the building, but were muffled by the walls.

  Jo was in the lead with Kinsler following, his pistol out and trained on the center of her back. Even though his head told him to trust her, his heart hadn’t bought in. In his other hand, he held his flashlight, its beam slashing a light past her, cutting a shaky beam down the hallway.

  They both stopped and Jo turned back to Kinsler and asked, “What was that noise? It sounded like shots. ”

  “I have no idea, but we had better speed this up,” he said. “I think the shit is about to hit the fan.”

  They didn’t run, but they definitely fast walked to the next intersection and took a hard right. They didn’t make it ten paces before they were met by a young private named Breeden and he had a frantic look on his face. He had a doughy round face and sleepy eyes.

  “Sir, did you hear that?”

  Kinsler responded, “Yes, I did. I’m not sure what it was or what it means.”

  “Should I stay on post?”

  “Let’s see what happens,” Kinsler said.

  “Sir, why do you have this woman?” Breeden asked, nodding his head toward Jo. Jo kept her eyes cast downward.