“Vivian? Is that spawn still alive?”
“She may be running things now,” Tracy said.
Joseph took in a sharp intake of air. “Holy crud. She’s actually still alive?” Tracy nodded. “Kind of surprised she hasn’t fired off a nuke yet then. I’m sorry…so how are you out here and Mike’s still in there?”
“Mike got a hold of a weapon and held Hawes as a hostage until we were released.”
“I told you he was a damn fine soldier, could have made a career out of it if he found a way to stop his mouth every once in a while.”
“Might as well ask the sun not to shine or the wind not to blow,” BT said.
“He gets it, BT,” Tracy said.
“Or an animal not to shit in the woods, or—”
“BT!” Tracy nearly stomped her foot.
“Sorry.”
“Or a pope not to be Catholic,” he finished quickly.
She glared at BT before talking to Joseph. “We’re going back regardless of whether you help or not. All I ask is that you don’t try to stop us. However, we do need more bullets.”
“Yeah, lots more,” Travis agreed.
“Honey, those are not magic mushrooms!” Stephanie shouted a few feet away.
“I know that look, Mom,” Travis said. “Don’t even bother trying, if you’re going back, I’m going with you.”
Tracy wasn’t sure if she should be absurdly proud or terrified.
“I’m going, too,” Dennis said, walking up. He had just returned from picking through the destroyed truck with Gary.
“Where we headed?” Gary asked, lugging up an ammo box. “Oh, to get Mike,” he said as he looked around at the group. “I’m ready when you guys are.”
“I could stop you from this futile act,” Joseph told them.
“Yes…but will you?” Tracy asked. “I understand you not wanting to help, but would you actively attempt to prevent us from going back?”
Joseph actually pondered the question. Ultimately they were free citizens to live and die as they chose. “I will not. As for ammunition I will have some trucked up here for you. The help I will give as long as it does not place my men in harm’s way. They have sacrificed enough for this mission.”
“Thank you,” Tracy said. “One more thing?”
“Yes?”
“Can we get a new means of transportation? Ours seems to have met with an untimely demise.”
Gary weakly raised his hand as the guilty party.
Joseph nodded and, once again, walked away so that he could speak into his radio.
“I see smoke!” Justin had gone back up a tree and was trying to get a glimpse of the outlying area.
“Where are you?” Tracy shielded her eyes to look up. “Get down from there!” she shouted when she realized just how high up he was.
“I’ll get him as soon as I find my jet pack,” Trip said, looking up with Tracy. “I know it’s around here somewhere.”
Tracy paced restlessly, waiting for their ride to come. Right now she wasn’t sure if she was more concerned for Mike’s safety or Justin’s as he descended from the tree. She cuffed him behind the ear when he touched terra firma.
“Damn, Mom. You do know I’m an adult, right?”
“Doesn’t matter—you’ll always be my kid.”
“Damn,” he said again as he walked away, cupping his smarting ear.
“Stephanie, I can’t ask you to go back. I’m sure Joseph will watch over you both while we’re gone.” Tracy had said it in such a manner that Joseph, even if he wanted to, would not be able to decline the offer.
“Of course. We’ll be staying here for as long as it takes to make sure that the Demense group is no longer and can never be operational again. If…um, I mean when you return, you could join back up at that time. If something should happen that would make that an impossibility, we would surely escort your friends to a safe location.”
Trip had found a backpack and was securing the front fastener. “Almost ready,” he said.
“For what?” BT asked.
“To get the boy. Where have you been? Just hope I have enough fuel in this thing to get up there and back down.”
“God loves fools and children.” BT walked away.
“I am not a child!” Trip shouted at BT’s back. BT flipped him the finger over his shoulder. “Rock on to you, too!” Trip stuck out and waggled his tongue.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Tracy said as their vehicle pulled up. “A Prius? You truly think this is a one-way trip, don’t you? How could I possibly get Mike back in this thing when it’s already going to be over-filled?”
“I’m sorry, we don’t have very much else to spare.” Joseph was apologetic.
“Where are they going?” Trip asked as Tracy, after browbeating Gary, took the driver’s seat. BT sat in the passenger seat, nearly taking up the entire front as Travis, Justin and Dennis crammed into the backseat. Gary had popped the trunk and was about the only one sitting with any semblance of comfort.
“They’re going to get Mike,” Stephanie told Trip. When she realized he didn’t have a clue who she was talking about she added, “Ponch.”
“Why aren’t we going? Or should I just avoid the eight hundred pound gorilla in the room?” Trip asked.
Chapter Twelve – Mike Journal Entry 6
The smell…I don’t bring it up because it was any worse than it had ever been, it was just so prevalent. It was that, almost above all, that made me realize just how much of a world of stink we were in. Oh shit, that’s kind of funny; I made a pun and hadn’t even intended it. There was no sense on dwelling where all the zombies had come from. That they were here was enough to deal with right now. Finding a corridor that was not flooded with them was out of the question.
“Mr. T, I think we need to find a room quickly! There are soldiers running this way. And to be honest, I don’t think they’re looking for us.”
“Well, that’s good isn’t it?” Then I figured out that was because they were being chased. “Locked,” I said, trying the closest door. In fact, all of the doors I could see probably were as they all had a card reader square out in front of them.
“Let me down, you oaf.” Deneaux got a proper hold on her cigarette, took a decent puff, and then fished around her neck.
“Looking for where you placed your heart?” I asked.
“Always the kidder,” she said as she pulled out a lanyard with card on it, a picture of the newly deceased Dixon Hawes emblazoned on it.
“Who’s kidding?” I was being completely serious.
Deneaux pushed the door open and I immediately followed. I swear I could smell the deceit on her. If she could have shut that door on us, she would have. Maybe it’s inherent; like a whale needing to surface every hour or so to breathe, she needs to fuck someone over every once in a while just to make sure she hasn’t lost any of her skill. I held it open for Tommy. I was just about to shut it when I saw the soldiers Tommy was talking about. There were five of them. That quickly turned to four as a speeder dragged the slowest of them down.
“Come on!” I waved them on. Good idea…bad idea…I have no idea. I hadn’t thought it out. All I knew was that they were in trouble and, oh—they had guns. I was hoping that their enemy was my enemy thus making us some sort of allies. The man in the front looked relieved as he darted past me and in. The four little Indians became three as another soldier was dragged down. Well, not so much pulled down as suffering a mechanical failure. I’d seen the expression enough during my football days to realize he’d just pulled a hamstring. His eyes clamped shut as his mouth pulled back. His right hand shot down to the back of his right leg as it seized up.
He was less than twenty feet from safety as he started dragging his bad leg, for a heartbeat I thought maybe he was trying to act like an old school zombie. Unfortunately, the zees behind him weren’t buying it. He was taken down like he’d stolen a mink coat from Saks Fifth Avenue. He’d not had the presence of mind to protect his f
ace as he fell forward. His chin hit first followed immediately by his teeth and nose, both of which shattered upon impact. I’m thinking he didn’t even feel it as the zombies that had bowled him over were now feasting on the very leg that had betrayed him.
I quickly pulled the door shut as the third soldier entered. He fell to his knees just clear of the door as I slammed it shut. It vibrated heavily as zombies struck the other side. The soldier who had fallen just outside the door was screaming, a strangled, tortured cry that kept getting higher and higher in pitch until it was mercifully cut off. The three soldiers in the room with us were breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath.
“Thank you,” the one by my feet said in between intakes.
“Yeah, just remember that,” I told him.
“Who are you?” the soldier that had come in first asked. His M-4 was on his chest held snug by his tactical harness. His hands were resting on it, but more as a place to put them rather than as an attempt to use it. That didn’t stop Deneaux as she placed the barrel of her revolver up against his skull. “What’s going on?” he asked, placing his hands in the air as Deneaux pulled back on the hammer.
“I didn’t let them in just so you could shoot them,” I told Deneaux.
“Then why did you? Is this altruism, Michael? These are the very men who would have gladly killed you.”
“Michael Talbot?” the soldier with his hands in the air asked.
“You know what, Deneaux? Odds were they had no clue what the hell I looked like. I could have probably told them I was a scientist.”
Her eyebrows arched. “Please.”
“Okay, janitor maybe. They still wouldn’t have known. You, on the other hand, I’m sure everyone knows.”
“We should just kill them. We don’t know their intentions.”
“Maybe I should just ask?”
The soldier with the barrel to his head was nodding.
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get a straightforward answer,” she answered sardonically.
I looked at her crossly; if she gave a shit, she gave no indication. “As you already know, my name is Michael Talbot. You’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Deneaux, and this is my associate, Tommy, who may not seem it, but is easily the most lethal person in this room. My goal today is to get out of this fuck-fest by just about any means possible. I have no desire to kill any of you, but I will if you stand between my ends and me. You are more than welcome to throw your lot in with us, or you can head back the way you came.” I pointed to the door, which was still rattling from multiple impacts.
“I vote for door number one.” The man on the ground raised his hand. “Wait, wait, that sounded bad. Option one, definitely option one.”
“Me too,” the second chimed in quickly.
“Hmmm, let’s see,” the third with the gaping barrel to his head said. “I can either get shot in the head immediately, tossed to a hungry horde of zombies, or try for my freedom.”
“I think I’m going to like this guy.” I extended my hand. “Michael Talbot.”
“Corporal Jameson. The guy on the ground is my brother, James.”
“James Jameson?” I asked.
“What my parents lacked in originality they made up for in humor. My first name is Jim.”
“Okay.” I mean, what could I say?
“This other guy is Lance Corporal Bukkar.”
“Thanks for saving us,” the lance corporal said.
“So we’re all on the same page?” I asked.
“For the love of God, Michael, do you really believe you have gotten to the root of truth?” Mrs. Deneaux asked as she let the hammer of her revolver down.
“Maybe…maybe not. Fact remains, six have a better chance of survival than three. If we still have stuff to sort out when and if we get through this, we’ll take care of it then. Fair enough?”
Deneaux scowled. “Fuck me over Corporal Jameson and I will blow a hole in your head big enough to fit a pack of cigarettes.” She strode across the room to sit down and fish out that threat box from some hidden pocket.
“She serious?” the corporal asked.
“She is, and I’m not sure if she’s talking to you three or me,” I said.
“Whichever,” Deneaux breathed out in a ring of smoke.
Tommy nodded solemnly.
“Is there another way out?” I asked as I got closer to the door. The sound of pounding footsteps was increasing as zombies ran amok.
James stood up. “No,” he answered after looking around. “We’re in the labs. Not necessarily the center of this place, but close enough that getting out is going to be extremely difficult.”
“Any ducts or back stairwells?”
“Michael, this isn’t some shitty action movie your type likes to watch,” Deneaux said through a plume of smoke. “This is a high security building with multiple redundancies built in to ensure that someone just doesn’t stroll on in.”
“My type? What the hell does that mean?”
“Lower middle-class, uncouth, damn near savages. I’d take a trained monkey over the lot of you.”
I’m sure she had more left in her rant, but that was cut short when we heard a crashing sound to the back of us. All of us, and whatever weapons we had, were now trained on the door to our rear.
“What’s back there?” I asked.
“More labs,” the corporal answered.
“What kind?” Tommy was seeking clarification.
This time it was Bukkar that answered. “Animal.”
“Like goldfish?” I asked.
“Yes, Michael, goldfish,” Deneaux sneered. “This huge, covert, quasi-government funded facility designed solely to take over the entire human population through nefarious means is studying goldfish.”
“Weird, I would have thought their efforts would be better spent someplace else. Maybe figuring out exorcisms or something.” I was looking right at her. “Just no accounting for government waste I suppose.” I wanted my words to make me feel better, but something on the other side of that door was throwing heavy enough stuff around that I was feeling the vibrations through the cement floor I was standing on. “Please tell me they don’t have grizzlies.”
The flickering of the lights seemed to enrage the monster. Each flicker brought more violence as whatever it was slamming around came with more frequency.
“Mr. Talbot, sir…” James or Jim started.
“Yeah? And ‘Mike’ or ‘dude’ is a perfectly suitable form of addressing me.”
“Really, Michael? Dude? I suppose I should say my apologies to the lower middle-class for including you within their ranks,” Deneaux scoffed.
“Tell me again why I saved you?”
“Saved me? What a skewed version of reality you house in that drug-addled brain casing of yours.”
I had four or five things I wanted to say to her, but most wouldn’t have even passed my personal censor, which had a pretty low threshold already. I did not want to get into a verbal altercation with Deneaux. Knowing her, it would end with a bullet in me somewhere. Plus whatever James, or Jim had to tell me looked pressing.
“Mike, these flickering lights are going to present a problem.”
“You mean besides being totally in the dark should they stay out?” Yeah, dwell on that for a second if you dare. We were completely underground—might as well be a cave for how much sunlight streams down here. Complete and utter darkness in a maze full of man-eating zombies, well, doesn’t that just sound like a barrel of laughs. Hadn’t even thought of that. I can’t even begin to explain how the fear of that thought began to burrow its way deep inside of my psyche.
“Ridiculous, the back-up generators should keep this place operational for weeks if not months,” Deneaux corrected him. I’ve got to give it to the old bird; there wasn’t a hint of a quiver in her voice as she delivered those words. I was wishing I had on brown pants for obvious reasons and she was about as blasé as one can be.
“Normally I’d agree with you, ma’am
. The flickering lights are telling another story though. Yes, the generators will keep the place running but they get their instructions from the computer system.”
Deneaux and I looked at each other knowingly.
“Go on,” Deneaux prodded.
“It’s a symbiotic relationship. The computer obviously can’t run without the generator, and for safety reasons, the converse is true as well. With that much power running through the system, it has to be regulated. And if it’s not, the fail-safe is to shut down.”
“How do you know the computer system is down?” I asked. I mean, obviously I knew; but how could he? Just from some lights flickering?
“The flicker of the lights is actually a code. Notice it isn’t completely random, there are two quick ones in succession then a three second break and two more. That is a diagnostic pattern to alert engineers that the computers are off-line and a warning to get them back on. Three quick flashes followed by another three quick would mean that the fuel is low. Three quick flashes by themselves would mean maintenance is required on a particular machine.”
“All this light flashing is it necessary? Seems like it would be a burden on the personnel here,” Deneaux scoffed.
“Only the most important signals are done through the lighting system. The routine ones are done through the computers, ma’am.”
“So how much time do we have with the generators on?” I asked.
“An hour at the most. Not any more than that.”
“We have an hour to get out of here?”
“That’s not entirely true. There will be battery back-up.”
The initial flood of dread was quelled somewhat from his statement knowing that we weren’t going to be plunged into darkness just yet. “Okay, so how much battery life are we talking about?”
“Close to eighteen hours depending on what’s up and running right now.”
“Nineteen hours to get a plan together and implement it? Hell, that ought to be a breeze considering most times we don’t have nineteen minutes…shit, even nineteen seconds.” I was feeling better, not confident, but better. Like maybe the stay of execution had just come through.