Redemption of the Dead (25 page)

BOOK: Redemption of the Dead
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Sven took a
firm hold on Greg and the four of them went into the stairwell and
climbed the eight flights to the twenty-fifth floor. Once there,
they followed the same plan except Greg was the one to speak
through the door and get the attention of those inside.

“We heard
gunfire, what happened?” said a gruff voice from the other side of
the doors.

“I’ll let
these people explain,” Greg said and was tossed over to Bastian,
who held him fast while Sven worked the door.

Sven
suddenly stopped and shouted through the crack between the doors.
“Put weapon down or we shoot, okay?”

The big guy
waited a moment and, seemingly satisfied with the compliance from
within, he opened the doors like before, only enough room for one
person to squeeze through. He grabbed Greg; Bastian stood before
the door with his machine gun.

“Back down,
stay calm,” Bastian said. “This be over in minute.”

A man, who
was at least in his forties, wore military fatigues and had
leathery skin like someone who’d spent way too much time in the
sun, came out. “What in the blue blazes is going on here,
Undersall?”

Billie gave Greg a hard
glare.

Greg said, “I’ll just defer to the
young lady here.”

The man eyed
Billie up and down. “You’re takin’ orders from a kid? Because I
sure as heck ain’t.”

Sven stepped forward.

The man said: “Intimidation doesn’t
work with me, son. Try something new.”

Sven snapped
out his arms lightning quick and grabbed the man by the ears,
lifting him off his feet. The guy screeched like a cat in water.
Sven set him down.

“Wanna try again?” Billie
said.

The man held
his ears like they would fall off, and judging by how big Sven’s
grin was, she thought they just might.

“Let’s start with your
name.”

“Lieutenant . . . Lieutenant John
Nole.”

“And those
are your men inside there?”

He nodded.

This makes it easy.
“Greg here told me about you guys coordinating an attack. I
need to know more.”

“And why’s
that, young lady?” the man said in between winces.

Because I know
who
you’re going to
try and fight and you have no idea what you’re getting yourself
into.
She decided to keep the
supernatural side of the equation to herself for now. “When was
this attack going to take place?”

Nole eyed
Sven, who held the pry bar aloft against his shoulder. “We didn’t
finalize a date, but we were looking into a fifty-to-sixty-day
timeframe.”

Too long.
“Why do you
need to wait so long?”

“Why do you need know?”

Sven reached
with one hand for the lieutenant’s ear.

Nole sidestepped a couple feet. “Okay,
okay, easy. Some of the weapons are complete, others in the
prototype stage.”

“We saw them below.”

“You did?” He looked to Greg for
confirmation, who gave it. “And those who put us in the
elevators?”

“Dead,” Billie said. “By us, I might
add. We also hold the key to your freedom so if anything, you owe
us your allegiance.” The statement sounded a little too video
game-ish, but she’d played more than her fair share of them in her
day so it was to be expected.

“How did you take them
down?”

 

She gave the
boys a wink. “We’ve been at this a long time. That’s all you need
to know.”

They all stood in silence for a few
moments.

Nole asked,
“What’s next? Any more pertinent questions or are you guys going to
let the others out? They’re thirsty, starving, and there’s a
bathroom issue you don’t want to know about.”

Billie
slowly shook her head. “Not yet. We don’t trust you and we’re not
going to trust you, and we’re especially not about to let a whole
lot of you out until you show me you’re willing to comply with our
demands.”

Nole was
clearly getting impatient, but was keeping himself in check lest
Sven tear his ears off for real this time. “What are your
demands?”

“I need to know more about this
attack.”

“I can help with that,” Greg
said.

“You’re not saying anything,” Nole
replied.

“We don’t
have a choice, Lieutenant,” the engineer said. “Let the tough guy
thing go or, if not, we can just go back in the elevator and wait
for the next group of people to come waltzing through here to let
us out. If they even find us, that is, and you know full well aside
from those who trapped us, we’ve been alone in this building for
over a month with no one in or out.”

Lieutenant
Nole crossed his arms, and said to Billie, “Okay, lead the
way.”

“No,” she said, “you lead. I need a
shield in case any of those monsters surface.”

 

 

* * * *

 

 

24

Spill It

 

A
fter being on
the roof, Joe, Tracy and the others
returned inside. First order of business was inventory, and though
there was a record of what came in and what went out, everything
was thoroughly double checked. Weapons were plenty for the amount
of people there; there was also body armor, enough for one piece of
protection per person. It was better than nothing. The intel from
Dale, who periodically went up to the roof to check on the undead
gathering beyond, said they were still coming together as of twenty
minutes ago. It was difficult to say how long it would be until the
undead force was at its peak.

Dean assembled everyone, filling the
kitchenette completely. He stood on the countertop so everyone
could see him. Joe and Tracy stood on the ground on either
side.

“We don’t know what the creatures are doing,” he said, “but
it’s clear they’re doing
something
. I know that
some of us are strangers, which is fine, but when it comes to this
place and to each of our own safety, we are friends. We have to be.
I will pair you off and whoever you end up with will be your
partner until I say otherwise. Tracy, fill them in.”

She switched
places with Dean, and Joe did his best not to stare up at her like
a love-struck fool, but instead put his game face on so everyone
knew that she meant business. Ah, but to see such a strong woman up
there made him want to take her down and back to their little
room.

“My name is
Tracy, and I was appointed head of this operation. What is it,
especially if we don’t know what the creatures are doing? Simple:
we are to be ready for any event, anything, no matter what. It is
clear that something is about to happen. Maybe it’ll be a miracle
and those giants and the other ones out there are getting together
just so they could leave. Or maybe it’s going to be a lot worse and
what we’ve known of the creatures over the past year was only part
of the story.”

“So what’re we going to do?” a guy
asked from amongst the crowd.

“I’ll answer
questions in a moment. First order of business has been taken care
of. We know where we stand with firepower, who is here and what
their skills are. You have been paired together according to those
skills to complement each other. Do not deviate from your partner,
and if you and your team are paired with another, this is also
coordinated so that both teams will work fluently together based on
your skill set. Next, safety. Everyone has been assigned a piece of
body armor—all we have—again based on your talents. Third, right
now this safe house is indeed what its name says it is. We are safe
here and we will stay here despite what we hear outside, if
something goes down. At no time will we leave this place until
commanded to, or until you are the only survivor and you have no
choice but to leave. Should we be discovered and an attack on the
safe house takes place, we have created a roster and set of orders
of door watchers and what to do in that event. Again, both you and
your partner will work together.” She lowered her voice a little.
“At the same time, I understand some of you have been down here for
a long time and the thought of possibly going topside to fight is
frightening. I want you to try and relax and take comfort in your
safety down here; just don’t take it for granted and remain on the
alert. Should you fight, you know the rules: only use bullets when
necessary in an effort to conserve ammo. Always, always, always go
for the head by killing the brain. Decapitation is fine, too. Try
to keep shots and-or blows to the body minimal unless it’s a means
of self-defense. Speaking of which, these two gentlemen here” —she
pointed to two large black guys—Hal and Rob—in grungy sweat suits
off to the side— “will be coming up to pairs starting now and
throughout the night to give a refresher on how to take a zombie
down. Any questions?”

“What if we don’t want to fight?”
someone asked.

“Are you serious?” Tracy said. “If you
choose not to fight, don’t count on anyone to defend you. If you
are not willing to stand beside your fellow man now, then get out.
We have no room for you and are much safer without you.”

“What if we run out of ammo?” someone
else said.

“Then see if your partner has enough
to spare. If not, you’re going hand-to-hand.”

“Are we really going to battle?” asked
another.

“Weren’t you
just listening? We are staying here and are hoping for the best,
but are preparing for the worst.”

Tracy answered a few more questions
then hopped down off the counter as Dean dismissed
everyone.

“Nice job,” Joe said.

“Can’t believe some of the people
here,” she said.

“Don’t hold it against
them.”

“Don’t go
soft on me.” Her voice was firm. She looked him deadset in the eye.
“Despite this thing we got going, I need you to stay as you are,
don’t change. Not for me, not for them. And I mean that, Joe. Don’t
compromise anything for me because I sure as heck am not going to
compromise anything for you.” She headed off down the hallway,
leaving him with a twinge in his heart and a head that felt like it
was being filled with sand.

“Maybe I’m wrong about this whole thing,” he said.
Or maybe she’s right. This isn’t the
time to think about “us.” If we go to war, it’s about more than a
relationship. It’s about the survival of a species.
Still, the thought didn’t bring him
much comfort.

* * * *

Billie tried
to hide her yawn from Lieutenant Nole unless she wanted to show
weakness. She was in dire need of a nap, even a full-night’s sleep,
but until this issue about the forthcoming strike against the dead
was settled, she was going to stay awake. Her headache didn’t help
any either. Now down in the lab room in the basement, Greg and Nole
stood with them around a large table after securing the room that
had the mirrors on the off chance the deceased creatures within
somehow came back to life.

“The
strike’s codename is Operation Romero. Think what you want, but it
seems fitting,” Nole said. “It’s about getting at the root cause of
this, we hope.”

Billie
wasn’t completely sure it would be, though. She knew what really
lied beneath the rotten visage of each creature: a blood thirsty
demon whose first allegiance was to the devil and to bring victory
to their fallen angel leader in a pre-emptive strike before
Armageddon. At some point she knew she was going to have to come
clean about it, but she also needed to understand the supposed plan
of attack first. She wished Nathaniel was here to help guide
her.

“Operation Romero is being coordinated with remaining
military agencies around the world,” Nole said. “Once our
preliminary attacks failed against the undead—and you need to
understand that we certainly could have come in and nuked the
bastards, but if we did, the fallout would make this planet
inhabitable well beyond any survivor’s lifetime; in fact, some
raids needed to be conducted to stop certain parties from doing
just that—anyway, listen, when the preliminary attacks failed, we
tried again and made some headway, but eventually the sheer number
of the things was enough to trump even our most sophisticated
weapons. One of the challenges was controlling the outbreak, not
after the Rain because that caused its own chaos, but once that was
over and we learned what was happening and how one could be
infected—by the time procedures that were in place for the plague
were activated, it was too late. It’s not a one-man operation and
it takes plenty of people. They were all changed over to be like
those creatures faster than we could replace them. A retreat was
the only option.” He cleared his throat. “Correction: a
feigned
retreat. Over time, we were able to reestablish
connections via radio communications, power generators, and the
like. Human beings are not that incompetent to not keep a few
mechanisms running even in total chaos.”

Greg said, “Don’t mean to interject,
but I don’t know if she really cares about all that
stuff.”

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