Orpheus: Homecoming (The Orpheus Trilogy Book 2) (31 page)

"We have to kill the fire," Orpheus said. He trotted to the kitchen and grabbed a handful of oven mitts. He tossed a pair to Thompson and began pulling logs out of the fireplace. "Throw these in the sink and douse them if you can!"

Thompson grabbed a burning log and ran as fast as he could into the kitchen, and it didn't sound like he was quite fast enough. "Goddammit, that's hot!" Orpheus heard more ransacking of the kitchen and then Thompson returned with a large, deep pot. "Screw that." He put the pot between them and they quickly removed the biggest parts of the fire until all that was left was a glowing stack of coals.

Orpheus bent himself backwards so he could look up the chimney. The heat radiating off of the stone was bearable, but only just, and the last vestiges of the smoke made his eyes water. "Hey! Hey, you still up there?"

German's face appeared at the top of the chimney. "I tell you one thing, I am not jumping out of a helicopter again today."

O

All the occupants of the Rhino could do was watch and wait.

Ethan felt helpless while he watched the helicopter sweep back and forth over the site, trying to find the right cabin. When he saw the smoke, his spirits soared, but they were still left with the problem of how to get his father and Thompson out of there safely. The amount of traffic that both the Rhino and the helicopter had brought was mindblowing. If he had to guess, he would have said that most of the zombies from town had wandered into the woods while chasing wildlife, and had been wandering ever since, just waiting for another target.

That's what the remaining humans were now, a big, comically loud target that had caused all of the zombies to converge upon a small patch of land in the middle of nowhere. Jameson was right, they literally didn't have enough ammo among them to just erase the problem, not even close. That meant they'd have to get creative.

Jameson moved over the cabin and got as low as he reasonably could. A silhouette dropped with relative grace onto the gently-sloping roof.

A voice came over the radio. "I'm on. Give me a few minutes."

Ethan heard a phone ring and heard Tim answer. "What? We need more time. I know, I know. Do what you can. We're close." He dropped the phone on the table and rubbed his eyes. "Lena said the ferry's here, and they're going to give us thirty minutes before they take off without us. That will be the last transport off of the island, and then it's only a matter of how long it is before the whole thing gets lit up."

"They can't just sit offshore for a bit?"

"No, Ralston says when it's time to go, it's time to go."

"Ralston's on the boat?"

"You're surprised?"

"Of course not."

German transmitted again. "I'm talking to him. They're both alive, not that they look like it. The chimney might be doable for the reporter, maybe, but not for Orpheus. He ain't exactly built like a Calvin Klein model. We need something else, and fast. I could surf on these things."

"Standby." Ethan asked if anyone had any ideas, but before they came up with any, Jameson did.

"Pied Piper," the pilot said. "Be ready."

Ethan knew what to expect. They'd all seen it before. Jameson would fly low and slow enough that the zombies would be practically compelled to follow him. He'd lead them away, the Rhino would swoop in and pick up three, and they'd all meet up at the dock for a nice, tidy rescue.

Then Jameson stranded German on the roof, and the plan changed.

O

While German kept Orpheus apprised of what was going on, Jameson guided the helicopter away from the cabin at a perfect speed and altitude to lure the zombies from the cabin. He had to have over a hundred following him, which under other circumstances would be great. But too many were still clustered around the cabin and stubbornly refused to take the bait. They knew that there was meat inside, and his helicopter wasn't a tempting enough target to lure them away. He probably could have swooped in even closer and picked up enough to at least make the odds better, but, as always, there was a problem.

Jameson looked at his control panel and sighed. Everything was in perfect working order. He treated his bird like a princess, and she had been very good to him.

He hadn't fed her in too long. There just hadn't been time. All of the searching had taken its toll on the fuel. It was just about used up, but he thought she’d be good for one more stunt.

Jameson was intimately familiar with that feeling.

This was no surprise to him. He'd figured it out hours ago, but had still pressed on, because he was needed. What was he supposed to do, give up so he could soon die of cancer
and
guilt? No, thanks.

He licked his lips and transmitted. "Ethan, I can't pull them all off. Sorry, but-"

"That's all right, we can, uh, we can handle what's left." The doubt in the kid's voice couldn't had been more obvious.

"Let me finish, all right? I can probably get some more, and make sure that they can't bother you again. Best I can do. Just wait for the signal before you go in."

"What's the signal?"

"Trust me, you won't be able to miss it."

"What about us?" German asked. "I'm on a fucking roof."

"You'll have to hoof it, pal. You don't want to be on this ride."

"I don't like this," Ethan protested. "What are you doing?"

"For the record," Jameson began, but he had to stop and clear his throat. "I'm glad we all got to actually be on the same side this time. It's been an honor. Do me a favor, son. Just tell your dad I said, 'It's time.' He'll understand. Out."

"Wait-"

Jameson turned his radio off and put the headset on the seat next to him.

He turned 180 degrees and headed in the direction of the cabin once again. The zombies followed suit. He flew close enough to the cabin that his skids were almost touching the mob of zombies that ringed the cabin. Even with the prey inside, the helicopter was just too close for a lot of them to ignore. They peeled off and followed Jameson. He didn't bother turning this time, only flew backwards a short distance. He went as far as he dared before his instincts told him that if he didn't land now, gravity would land him, and he needed to keep the noise up for as long as possible.

He set it down and the crowd of zombies instantly converged on the copter. They began climbing all over each other, and soon Jameson's view was almost completely blocked by the writhing mass of undead. Some of them got so high up that they lost body parts to the spinning blades, which added a thick layer of gore to his already-limited view.

He said, "Fuck these guys," and unbuckled his seatbelt. He knelt down next to his fun box and pulled out a large Thermos, a gift from an old Army buddy. He had no idea what exactly was in it, except that it damn sure wasn't soup, and it was highly illegal. He pried open a small access panel and hit a few switches, then placed it in front of him.

He knew that there would be a few seconds delay as the device primed itself. He grabbed the picture of his daughter from the dash and kissed it. He closed his eyes and held it to his chest.

Then, to something else: "You were never going to get me," he said. "I wasn't going to let you."

Whether he was talking to the zombies, the disease that was eating him up inside, or both ... he was right.

German had delivered the message to Orpheus as soon as he'd received it. As the pilot had predicted, Orpheus knew exactly what it meant, as well. He warned a confused German to take cover behind the chimney.

Orpheus moved to a window and pulled the drapes back just enough to follow the helicopter's retreat. The blinking lights made it easy to track. Then it landed and was immediately swallowed up by a sea of zombies. Orpheus tried to visualize what was happening in the copter. Jameson wouldn't waste any time. He'd want it to be over as quickly as possible. Orpheus could almost see him going to that box, doing what he had to do, and waiting for it to do its job.

The anticipation of what was going to happen was torture.

The explosion itself, spectacular and brutal, was almost a relief. The helicopter, the zombies, everything within a fifty foot radius was blown apart in a flash of flame. Orpheus could hear shrapnel pelting the cabin, and a few pieces of whatever actually cracked his viewing window.

"Holy fucking shit," Thompson said. "Holy fucking shit."

Orpheus didn't allow himself to feel it yet. He would later, but now was the time to honor a sacrifice by making the most of the opportunity it presented. Just like last time. "Time to move, Thompson. The Rhino will be coming."

"But, I ... yeah, I got it."

Orpheus yelled up the chimney. "German! You okay?"

His head appeared at the top of the chimney. "Yeah. Christ."

"Get ready to move. You have any rope? Thompson's coming up."

"I'm doing what???"

German said, "I have a paracord bracelet. About ten feet, I think."

"Get it ready." To Thompson: "You. You're outta here."

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about that. I need you and German to get to the others and get the fuck off of this island. Don't ever come back."

"But-"

"Ever. Now shut the fuck up and go. We're playing with other lives now." Orpheus manhandled Thompson to the fireplace. "Watch your head."

Thompson was left with no choice but to duck into the fireplace. He put his arms above his head and tested the brick. It had cooled down just enough to touch without scalding his skin. "I hate this so much for so many reasons."

Orpheus was done with convincing him. He knelt in the still-warm ash, laced his hands together and dropped them low. Thompson placed his foot on Orpheus' hands. "On three."

When Orpheus reached three, he boosted Thompson as high as his injuries would allow. Thompson pushed off and his torso disappeared in the chimney. He grunted with exertion. "Don't stop." Thompson's shoes climbed up Orpheus until he stood on the man's shoulders.

"Grab the rope!" German said.

"Got it!"

Orpheus felt Thompson's feet disappear from his shoulders and he felt free to step away. His part was done. He positioned himself so he could look at the man's progress and also tried to avoid the downpour of soot that he was knocking free. Orpheus could make out a sliver of light between Thompson and the chimney. It was a tight fit.

"Almost ... there ...” Thompson coughed.

"Stop talking and get there. I will literally light a fire under your ass in ten seconds."

Orpheus heard German yelling as he tugged the reporter upward. The 550 cord that he used was strong, but it was thin and nowhere near as forgiving on the hands as a thicker rope would be. He'd probably lose some skin, and Orpheus couldn't even think of how much Thompson's ribs had to be screaming, but that was better than the alternative.

Orpheus saw a flurry of movement and then the full square of light at the end of the chimney returned before two heads appeared.

"Okay, now what?" German asked.

"Give me your gun," Orpheus said flatly.

"What?"

"You heard me."

German unholstered his sidearm, engaged the safety, and dropped it down the chimney. It tumbled end over end, but Orpheus managed to catch it. "When you hear me fire off a round, you tell the Rhino to come get you. They should be able to get close enough where you can just step onto the roof. Hopefully."

"What about you?" Thompson repeated. "We're not just going to leave you here!"

"Yes, you are. And you have to make my son leave, too. Do whatever it takes. I'm counting on you, Iver."

Thompson said, "This is so fucked. But yeah, I'll do it."

Orpheus meant to turn away, but something made him hesitate. It was an opportunity to atone a bit for a past error. "And fellas? Thank you."

This time, he did step away. He judged the distance from the front door to the bathroom and was certain he could make it in, shut the door, and throw something in front of it in time.

Pretty certain.

He pulled down the furniture that acted as a barricade on one window, smashed the glass with his tomahawk, and then repeated it at another window. Zombie limbs immediately reached through and clutched at nothing. His experience told him that the only way a zombie would get through a window that high was by accident, but he didn't necessarily need their entry, only their attention.

He stood at the front door and paused. Was there another way? He considered all that he'd miss. His wife. Being Ethan's best man. Seeing his grandkids.

But none of that would happen if everyone else died here, if no one was able to stop Trent from unleashing the virus again.

No, he was doing the right thing. He grabbed the bottom of the armoire and readied himself to move it out of the rut. The zombies would do the rest of the work.

"Fuck it," he said. "It's a perfect day to die."

O

The occupants of the Rhino had only just recovered from the helicopter's explosion when Fish spotted two silhouettes on the roof. He knew that one was German, and the other he couldn't make out. The only thing he knew for sure was who it wasn't. "Two people on the roof."

"Is it my Dad?" Ethan asked, hope in his voice.

Fish lied. "Hard to tell."

"Rhino!" It was German on the radio. "Get ready to get us!"

"Who's with you?"

"Thompson. He's banged up pretty bad, but tells me he can hobble."

Tim said, "We might be able to pull up to the roof."

Fish relayed this, but German said, "Negative, it's too thick. It should thin out in a minute."

"What do you mean, 'thin out?'"

German's response was worrisome, especially in light of Jameson's sacrifice. "I'm not sure, either."

A silence descended over the four of them. Each of them, in their time on their island, had acted as some sort of bait in order to improve the group's situation. It was a necessary fact of survival of the island. So each of them knew exactly what Orpheus' absence meant. It was his turn.

Ethan grabbed the radio. "Germ, where's my father?"

Silence.

"Where is he?" Ethan repeated.

"Ethan, he's ... not coming. He said you'll know what to do."

Ethan's eyes glazed over for a moment and he gently placed the radio on the dashboard. He dropped back into his seat and rubbed his mouth. He felt the cushion shift and knew that someone had sat down next to him. He felt a warm, soft hand rest on top of his.

Rachel. Strong as always. He turned his hand over and gripped hers tightly, then let he go suddenly and stood up. There was just no time to be a little boy anymore. His father would expect more from him than that. "Everybody get ready. Fish, you think you can drive this thing as crazy as you drive anything else?"

"Crazier."

"Take the wheel. Let's load up everything we have and get up top. That cabin won't hold all of them. Germ and Thompson will need a lot of support."

Tim emptied out the ammo locker as he, Rachel, and Ethan made sure that they had more loaded magazines then they could possibly carry and swept them all into an A-bag. Tim was the first on the roof, and they handed the ammo and weapons up to him.

Ethan checked his sidearm twice before holstering it. "Ladies first," he said to Rachel, distracted. She moved past him and stopped. She put a hand on his face and turned his head. He could see the tears in her eyes, and it hit him that he was far from the only one suffering right now. He kissed her on the forehead and asked, "Are you okay?"

She, not for the first time, said exactly what he would have if the question had been asked of him. "No, I'm not." She sniffled and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "But we still have fucking work to do." She disappeared up the ladder.

Ethan grabbed the radio and told German that they were ready to move as soon as they got the signal. With that done, all that was left to do was wait. His father was preparing, Ethan had no doubt of that. He wouldn't just give up, ever. But Ethan didn't see any way out of this one. He was literally surrounded by zombies, and it was about to get worse as soon as he let them in. He was about to be completely alone on the island, with no help coming.

Ethan stood next to Fish and waited for whatever was going to happen.

Fish broke the silence. "Ethan, wherever and whenever the end of this whole thing is, no matter where it takes us, no matter how long or dangerous, we're with you. You know that, right?"

Ethan wasn't sure of much, but he was sure of that. Still, hearing it from Fish of all people caught him by surprise, and he didn't have the words to adequately respond. Instead, he just nodded.

Ethan jumped when German's voice exploded from the radio. "Ethan! It's a go!" They both looked at the cabin and saw zombies pouring in. Dozens. A hundred.

He ran to the ladder and made it just as Fish threw it in drive and floored it. Only a good grip on the rung kept Ethan from being thrown to the floor. He righted himself and scrambled to the roof. Tim and Rachel were already engaging. Ethan wasted no time joining them.

The cabin was coming up fast, as were the two figures running toward the Rhino.