Deadman's Switch & Sunder the Hollow Ones (3 page)

I try not to step on him as I squeeze past, but he's so big that I slip and fall on top.

Kelly shouts. I hear a loud smack, followed by a grunt.

“Stop!” he bellows. “No!”

There's a cry, and then Stephen lets out an exultant shout.

I pull myself back to my feet and lean over and push up on the control lever, but it won't budge. It's locked into position.

Behind me is the emergency brake, a red handle inside a black recess and outlined with black and yellow stripes. Did Reggie realize something was wrong? Did he try to pull it? He must've lost consciousness before he could.

I reach inside and wrap my fingers around the handle.

“Oh, no you don't!”

The lever slips from my grip as Stephen yanks me backwards. The tram keeps moving.

Pain flares in my hip as it slams into the control panel. The hand on my collar raises me up and propels me forward again. The control lever jabs painfully into my stomach, sending a burst of fire through me, burning into my chest and down my leg.

“I can't let you do that,” Stephen pants into my ear.

“Kelly!”

“Your boyfriend's toast, sweetie!”

He pulls me up again, leaning his body into mine to trap me against the console. He pushes down, planting an elbow on my back. My hands are beneath me. I have no leverage. I can't move.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the syringe, a pearly-white opalescent liquid inside. I could've sworn it was green before, but that was when my vision was seriously messed up.

“What do you think?” he says, breathing into my ear. He holds the needle right in front of my eye. “Maybe I should stick this in your ear. The pain alone will drive you crazy. I told them this was going to happen. I warned them right after I saw that your neurosynthetic synapses were beginning to disconnect. I knew you were on the verge of rejecting. But, hey, that's okay. It's not the end of the world. For you, maybe, it is, but not for me. I've still got this. I can go home.”

The syringe slips behind me and out of view.

I don't know what comes over me then—panic, maybe, or terror—but all those years of hapkido training finally kick in. I raise my right foot off the ground and kick back. My heel connects with Stephen's shin. He howls, just as a sharp pain flares in the side of my neck. It burns for a moment like hot oil dripping down my back, then it's gone, leaving only a dull pain.

I pull my arms out from under me and pinwheel, spinning until I've got Stephen's arms wrapped in mine. He tries to pull back, which is exactly what I'm expecting, so I push. He bounces off the back wall of the compartment, his head slamming against it and rocking forward. He crumples as my own feet slip out from under me.

But he's still conscious, still upright. He manages to free one of his arms. I yank, drawing my knee up at the same time that he lunges into me. I catch him just below the ribcage, knocking the breath from his lungs.

He's much stronger than I had expected. He gasps and somehow spins me around again, grabbing a handful of my loose overalls. He shoves me up against the console again and lands a fist on the back of my head. My forehead ricochets off the panel. White light and pain blinds me for a moment.

I kick out again, landing my heel just above his knee. I hear a crack and his grip loosens as he stumbles back, screaming. He crumples to the floor, rolling off Reggie's body and hitting his head in the door frame. His hands go to his injured leg. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the syringe roll into the corner.

It's empty.

“You bastard!”

I spin around and locate the emergency brake and yank it out. The tram lurches, slamming me face first into the wall, bending my wrist back until it feels like it's going to snap. The wheels squeal as they fight the tram's momentum.

I push myself away and spin around. I find the control lever and push to get the tram to move the other way. I just hope it's not too late to save the others.

But the lever doesn't move.

 

 

“What did you inject into me?”
I scream. I reach up to my neck with my good hand and feel around for the puncture wound. The tips of my fingers are smeared with blood.

Stephen just stares at me, not answering. Kelly wrenches the asshole's arms even higher up his back until he winces in pain and grunts in pain, but he doesn't cry out.

“You're going to tell me what the fuck that was,” I say, leaning in close to him. “Was it that alpha crap? Is it some kind of virus? Is it like the Zulu virus?” I grab his shirt and shake him. “Am I infected?”

He grunts. “It's too late. You can't do anything about it now. Neither of you. Knowing won't stop it. The infection is already spreading. It's incurable. And when it's finished, we'll all be dead.” He grins. “Or should I say, Undead.”

I curse and spit at him.

Kelly finishes binding him, using the IV tubing I had used to cinch up the loose coveralls. Stephen doesn't even try to struggle. He just sits there with this stupid, knowing smirk on his face, taunting Kelly and me. I'm surprised at how much restraint Kelly shows. If it was me and I had a knife, I'd gut him right here and let him bleed out onto the floor.

When Kelly's finished and convinced Stephen's not going to be any more trouble, he comes back to me. He draws me close to him and for a moment I think he's going to kiss me. I pull back in anger, but he resists, leaning in with a look of concern on his face. He gently pushes my head to the side and moves my hair so he can look at my neck.

“Are you sure he injected you?” he asks. “I don't see a hole here, just the scrapes you had before. Old blood. Mostly. It's stopped bleeding, though. I don't see anything new.”

I reach up again, wincing because this time it's my injured hand, and I gently run my fingertips over my skin. I can feel myself shaking. Shock is beginning to set in. I need to know before it gets any worse.

And yet I don't want to know.

“I felt it go in, Kel.” I nod at the empty syringe on the floor. Neither of us wants to pick it up. It's radioactive. It's deadly. Contaminated. Viral. Whatever it held is now inside of me.

“Yeah, but he—”

“I know what I felt. And I know what I saw.”

“Maybe it's not what you think.”

“Yeah, you're right, Kel, “ I snap. “Maybe it's just a vitamin B shot.”

I stare at him. He tries to hold my gaze, but can't. He can't mask the look in his eyes, the fear. The knowing. I'm a dead girl. He knows it. A curtain rises over his face, covers his eyes. Concern. Suspicion. Already he's giving up on me, writing me off.

“Kelly… please.”

“Hold still,” he tells me, irritation creeping into his voice.

I brush his hands aside. “Forget it. It doesn't matter. We need to think about the others. We need to get the stupid tram moving again before the rest of the group dies.”

I don't even know if they'll recover.

I'm on the verge of crumbling. I need to move. I need to keep moving or else I'll fall down and never get back up again.

Reluctantly, Kelly turns away from me and studies the control panel.

“I tried moving the lever back up,” I say. “That's supposed to tell the tram to go back in the direction we'd just come, but I can't.”

Kelly tries a couple switches and dials. He only manages to flip off the blinking emergency lights, which is a relief, and get the main lights back on.

“Button,” he says, showing me the side of the lever. He pushes it and the lever moves, but the trams doesn't.

“Shit,” he says.

I turn away to go check on the others, leaving Kelly to figure out how to get the tram moving again. I want to make sure everyone's still breathing.

Stephen's eyes follow me as I slip past him in the passenger compartment and make my way toward the others in the back. I have to fight my desire to plant a front kick straight into his face. Only my training and the memory of Nurse Mabel keep me from doing it.

“You can leave, you know,” he tells me, taunting. “Think about it. No implant anymore. No one to control you, now or ever. The failsafe won't work on you. Just power this thing up again and drive yourself right on out of here. You and your boyfriend. He can go, too.”

I don't know why my body has rejected the new implant. Apparently I'm unique. All the others' implants seem to be functioning.

“I'd never leave my friends.”

“They'll only hold you back, Miss Daniels.”

“Shut up. Just shut the fuck up.”

I reach Reggie first, sprawled out where Kelly dragged him after tying Stephen up. There's a knot forming on his forehead, and it's already bruising. He breathes in agonizing wheezes.

Jake appears to be worse off. His body is twitching, like he's being electrocuted. His tongue protrudes from his mouth and he's making a wet, gagging sound. I turn him onto his side to keep him from choking. It's about the only thing I know about seizures and such. That, and to move the person away from furniture so they won't hurt themselves. Not much I can do about that in here where space is tight. At least he's still breathing.

Ash is on the floor now, having slipped off her seat when the tram stopped. I check to see that she's breathing too, rolling her onto her side like I did with Jake. Then I turn to Tanya. She'd slid all the way back against the door separating the second and third compartments.

Finally, there's Micah, who's still strapped into the wheelchair. I'm glad I'd thought to lock the wheels earlier. The chair had spun a little, but otherwise stayed in place. His head lolls to one side. His breathing is shallow and regular. He seems to have been the least affected of anyone.

“Everyone okay?” Kelly asks, when I rejoin him in the engineer's compartment.

I shrug. “As okay as can be expected. We need to move them, and the sooner the better. Whatever the EM signal's doing to their implants, it can't be very good. It may already be too late.”

“Don't think that.”

“Am I just supposed to go on believing they'll be fine?” I snap.

Kelly takes in a long, deep breath, then slowly lets it out.

I start checking the drawers and cabinets in the driver's compartment.

“Already checked,” Kelly says.

I don't stop. I can't stop moving or else I'll never be able to start again.

“What are you looking for?”

“I don't know. This,” I say, when I find a flashlight. I flick it on and my heart sinks when it doesn't work. “Batteries are dead.”

“Why do you need that?”

“Because I think we're going to have to walk our way out.”

Kelly frowns and shakes his head. “We've got five people out cold back there and only one wheelchair. How do you expect to move them all? You can barely even use your hand!”

“I'm fine!”

“No, you're not, Jess.”

He places a hand on my forehead. I swipe it away without looking at him. He wants to see if I'm running a fever. I don't want to know. “I'm fine.”

He gawps air for a moment, then slowly lowers his hand.

“You can carry one,” I tell him. “Stephen can push the wheelchair. I'll hold the pistol. We'll just have to take two at a time. It's better than sitting here while they die, Kelly.”

“They won't die.”

“You didn't see them. They're dying back there. Every minute we spend arguing is another minute lost to help them.”

Finally he nods. He knows I'm right. “I've got a flashlight in my pack. I'll go get it and start getting people out. Who first?”

“Micah,” I say. “He's already in the chair. And Jake. He's really bad off.”

Kelly gives me a hard look. I know what he's thinking. It's the same old jealousy rearing its ugly head again. Maybe he has some reason to be jealous, but not about this.

“He's having seizures. The rest aren't.”

It's a lie. Tanya was seizing earlier, but not now. I fear it might mean she's progressed. I push the thought away, hating that I have to choose between them like this.

I ignore the conflicting arguments inside of me. I just need to make a decision and stick with it.

Kelly returns with the flashlight and the pistol and hands them both to me.

“Here's the emergency release on the doors,” he says, reaching up. He flips the latch up and pushes the button. The doors hiss and slide open.

“We're going back,” I inform Stephen. “You're coming with us, and you're going to do what we tell you to do or else I put a bullet in your head.”

He tilts his head and looks at me, nothing on his face. His cheeks are red from his earlier scuffle with Kelly, and he's still breathing hard. Then, slowly, a smile creeps across his lips. “Maybe there's hope for you after all,” he says.

“Shut the hell up,” Kelly snarls.

“You're going to push the wheelchair,” I tell him. “Once we get far enough away from the barrier, we'll drop them off and come back for the rest.”

“The best thing you could do for your friends now is let them die,” Stephen says.

I thrust the pistol into his face and tell him to shut up.

He flinches, then shrugs. He slowly stands up and offers me his hands. “Can't hardly push with my hands tied up like this.”

“Yes, you can.”

I tell Kelly to hobble Stephen's feet. “Give him enough slack so he can walk, but not enough to run.”

The smile on Stephen's face never falters. It just sits there, unchanging. It's really starting to irritate me. I just want to slap it off.

No, I want to shoot it off.

“Yeah, you're right,” he says. “It's probably better that you leave me tied up.”

“And why is that, asshole?” Kelly growls.

“For your own protection, of course.”