Relay for Life (10 page)

Matthew trusted his gut, and his gut said something about this place was fucked up beyond all reason. His gut told him that they should’ve left Derek where he’d found them and gotten the hell out of Dodge. Unfortunately, his gut and his sense of duty conflicted. He couldn’t leave a civilian behind. It went against all the training he’d ever had. Besides that, it went against his own moral code.
Damn nobility to hell
. It didn’t pay to be the good guy in a zombie crisis.

The pickup spot wasn’t far off, and Daniel had said that it would be there in the next fifteen minutes. He just hoped that the air transport made it there before the infected did.

They broke the clearing where the air transport would pick them up, and Matthew lowered his com after a quick glance revealed there were a few heat signatures past the clearing but none of them looked like they were actively heading in their direction. The ones to their flanks would reach them first at the speed they were moving, but hopefully they’d be gone before they caught up with them.

“Keep your weapons at the ready,” he commanded. Assuming the position of lead agent came easy to him. It always had. “Derek, do you need a gun?”

Matthew asked, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Derek looked panicked for a second. “No. No. Definitely want a
weapon. Weapons are useful.”
“Uh-huh.”
Christ. Now I don’t even want to give him a weapon
.
Still, against his better judgment, he took the .357 sig out of his belt holster and handed it over. Even if the guy had shitty aim, if he got close enough, it would definitely blow a hole in something. He just hoped he wouldn’t drop the damn thing on the recoil. If he was so jumpy around guns, how the hell had he made it through basic gun training? Classes and mandatory gun range time was required in all the sectors until the age of eighteen, as far as he knew. Something
about this guy just didn’t add up.
A shrill whistle filled the air, making the fine hairs on his arms
stand on end. “What the hell?” He glanced up in time to see infected
dropping by the dozens out of trees. “Fuck! Since when do infected
climb fucking trees?” He took aim, fired. One dropped. Did it again.
And again. But it was pretty useless. There were too many of them.
His heart was heavy as he kept firing rounds into the circle of infected
that were just pressing closer. They were completely surrounded. They all backed into a tight circle so none of their backs were
exposed as they fired into the crowd. His stomach twisted at the sight,
his com screaming a high alert beacon as they pressed forward. He
spared a glance at his two lovers.
At least I felt what it was like to be
loved once
. It was a sad thought. The potential and possibility of a
future that included all three of them faded from his mind as he
prepared to die.
Andrew’s breath seemed harsh to his ears. He was about to panic.
Matthew could feel it. “Easy, love,” he said over the gunfire. “Don’t
worry.”
“So many. So many of them.” His voice was almost indiscernible
as he spoke.
Ah, that’s right. He’s scared of crowds
. His gut twisted.
He didn’t want this for him, didn’t want him to die like this. He sent
up a quick prayer to whoever was listening that his dad would be all
right once he was gone.
They weren’t very far now, only ten feet maybe. He sucked in a
breath. “I wouldn’t want to die beside anyone else,” Marcel shouted,
firing three rounds in quick succession before dropping his gun and
pulling another. “I know we didn’t have long together, but I love you both.” Despite the situation, Matthew found himself blinking back
tears. He’d waited a really long time to hear someone mean that. Another whistle sounded, and every infected near them froze. He
didn’t care what the reason was. He emptied his cartridge at them and
then pulled another clip out. It seemed like he repeated the motion a
thousand times by the time all his weapons were empty. No matter
how many he shot, he never could clear a space so they could run
through. The last bullet sounded from Marcel’s gun, and the clearing
was silent.
Matthew had never been more terrified of silence in his life. “Are you all quite finished?” a voice asked. The infected parted
like the sea, and the being from earlier walked forward into the circle,
stepping over dead bodies of the infected like they were nothing. He
was just as handsome as he’d been on the vid earlier. However, this
close it was easy to see the predator in him. Unearthly golden eyes
stared unblinkingly at them. Matthew didn’t understand what the hell
was going on. He tried to step in front of Marcel and Andrew, but
they weren’t having it. They stubbornly remained by his sides. Derek stepped out in front. “Yeah. We’re done. Let them go,
Markus.”
“Why should I?” the Necro King asked. “I’ve won. As they say,
check mate, pet.”
Derek swallowed hard, and Matthew wrapped an arm around
Andrew’s shoulders, and the man gulped in air like a fish out of
water. Marcel even reached around Matthew and gave Andrew’s arm
a squeeze.
“I’ll go with you. I won’t run,” Derek promised.
“Liar,” the Necro King said. “I know better than that. You
promised you wouldn’t run the first time.”
“Getting eaten isn’t on my top ten things to do before I die list.
Forgive me for that!” Derek snapped, clearly as close to losing it as
Andrew was. Matthew was curiously numb, resigned somehow to his fate. It was a bit like being in shock. He felt like he’d been so scared
that now all the feeling had been drained out of him completely. “And I told you before, I won’t eat you. I need you. You’re the
key,” Markus said, unruffled by the obvious fear.
“Master,” a Necro said from the crowd. “Hungry.”
“Shut it,” Markus rumbled. “You can eat the dead when we’re
finished.” A happy sigh circulated through the crowd, and Matthew
nearly vomited. He would rather be dead than one of those things. Derek trembled. “Let them go and you can tie me up and take me
with you wherever. There is an airlift coming. Let them get on it.” The Necro King tilted his head to the side like a cat considering a
mouse. “And this would please you?”
“Yes. Show a little mercy.”
“But I feel none,” Markus said. “Odd to show mercy and not feel
it, don’t you think, my beautiful little latent?”
Latent what?
Matthew swallowed. He didn’t know what the hell
was going on, but he knew he wanted the fuck out of here. Andrew
fell to his knees and vomited. Matthew cursed and dropped down
beside him, gathering him up in his arms and rocking him back and
forth in what he hoped was a soothing manner. Marcel did the same,
tucking Andrew’s face into his neck to hide him from the crowd. “Shh, Andy,” Marcel whispered. “It’ll be all right. We’re together,
and nothing is going to hurt us.” It was a lie, and they both knew it. “Don’t let them crush me,” Andrew pleaded, his voice a thread
above hysteria. “Let me run. Please, let me run.” He dissolved into
sobs that tore at Matthew’s heart like zombies through a fresh kill. He
winced at the expression. Now was very much not the time to be
thinking of that.
“Stop toying with me!” Derek shouted. “If you’re going to kill us,
just fucking do it!”
The Necro King made a sound a shade too dark to be laughter.
“Why would I kill the key to my sanity?”
“Why do you keep saying that? It’s not true! I can’t do anything!” The Necro King made a sound of annoyance. “It’s not what you
can do. It’s what you are.” He sighed. “If it would please you that
much, I’ll allow the humans to leave, unharmed. You have my word.
Consider it a gift of good will.”
Yeah, right. The word of a talking corpse wasn’t worth much.
A
quick glance around them said that even if the Necro King wouldn’t
hurt them, the rest of the infected would, given the slightest chance.
Their hungry stares were a little unnerving.
Matthew forgot to breathe as the sound of an air transport reached
his ears. They weren’t far off. If they could possibly break through the
crowd and reach the ladder— He banished the thought. They’d never
make it. He raised his eyes, searching the sky for their salvation. The
whir of engines above them grew louder, and he strained to
distinguish the tones. It sounded like more than one air transport. But
that was impossible. The UMF would’ve only cleared one permit in
the time they’d had to get one.
Four air transporters appeared in the sky, and his heart soared. It
wasn’t possible. “Andrew, look, they’ve come for us,” Marcel
murmured, pointing skyward. “They’re going to take us home.” As Matthew watched, three of the transporters opened, and UMF
and SCAB guys dressed in camo and black dropped out.
They’re
really trying to fucking rescue us
. “Derek, get down!” The military
men hit the ground and opened fire.
Derek dropped to his belly as the mass of infected writhed. The
Necro King followed suit but not before letting out a shriek that
sounded far from human. The Necros turned and ran for the outskirts
of the clearing, and the lower-level infected ambled as best they could
in the same direction. Matthew blinked. They weren’t attacking the
gunners.
Why? They always attack us
. Nothing made sense anymore. The Necro King gave another of his lyrical whistles, and the
infected scattered, all but melting into the trees as the field agents
fired at them as they retreated. In their absence, the carnage was
revealed. Dozens of infected littered the ground like so much trash. “Clear!” one team leader shouted from the north edge of the
clearing.
“Clear!” another barked from the east. The word repeated a few
more times as they checked the area. Matthew tore his gaze away
from the agents and looked back toward their group. The Necro King
crouched beside Derek, holding a wicked-looking knife to his throat. “Scream and die, boy. I am in no mood to be shot at,” the Necro
King rumbled.
He’s being held hostage by a zombie. Now I’ve seen
everything
. It would’ve been comical had he been able to feel
anything at all. The only things that seemed real were the two men in
his arms.
“Mattie?” a familiar voice called.
“Dad?” he asked, shock infusing him. Hope blossomed. “Holy
shit! Dad!” He stood without thinking only to have to duck back
down as someone fired a shot off at him.
“Hold your fire, you fucking idiot! That’s my son!” Jack Gibson
bellowed as he crossed from the far side of the clearing to where they
all knelt. Matthew’s chest tightened. He’d never been so glad to see
his old man’s face in his life. He looked the same as he had a few
days ago, but it seemed like it had been forever. His eyes, the same
color as Matthew’s own, looked down on them. “Any infected?” He
waved his hand toward the Necro King. “Apart from the spare, of
course.”
Matthew shook his head. “We’re good.” He looked at Derek. Jack nodded. “Good.” He motioned to two men in heavy body
armor from head to toe. “Take the Necro, please.”
The Necro King hissed, his golden eyes filling with fury. “Touch
me and I’ll slit his throat.”
Shock passed over Jack’s face but not nearly as much as there
should’ve been. “Ah, they told me you could talk. It’s still weird as
fuck to hear it, though. Gentlemen?” One raised a small-caliber pistol
and fired. To his surprise, a dart erupted from the tip and hit the Necro King in the throat. Within seconds his knife fell to the ground along
with his body.
“Are you insane?” Derek snapped. “He could’ve killed me!” “He wouldn’t have,” Jack said, unperturbed. “He’s been on
Special Divisions lists for retrieval for months now. Along with you,
of course.”
Derek paled. “Me?”
“Exactly,” Jack said. The second agent in body armor fired and
another red dart hit Derek square in the chest. He dropped. Some UMF agents came over and dragged the two of them off,
depositing them in black boxes that looked a little like coffins or
animal-transportation boxes. “What the fuck is that?” Marcel asked.
Matthew shrugged. He wasn’t sure, but he would wager that they’d
stepped into some very high-clearance ops.
Jack cleared his throat to get their attention. Matthew looked back
at his father. “Deadzone is going to drop the ladder down in a second.
You are going to climb up it, and you are never going to talk about
what you saw here, do you understand?” There was something very
careful in his tone of voice, and understanding filled Matthew.
If I
wasn’t his son, we’d all three be dead.
Special Ops didn’t leave
witnesses. He shivered. What had his father gotten involved with? “We understand,” Matthew said, finding his voice through the
lump in his throat.
“Good.” He helped the three of them to their feet before pulling
Matthew into a tight hug. It was only then he could feel the slight
tremor in his father’s body. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Mattie.” He swallowed. “Thanks, Dad.”
“I’ll come find you when this is all over. Don’t re-up until I do.
Okay?”
“Okay.” What else could he say? What else was there to say
really? He stepped back and took his lovers’ hands. “I might not be
home. I might be in sector ten.”
Understanding dawned on Jack’s face. “Ah, I see. Good for you.
I’ll find you there.” He turned and walked away without a backward
glance.
Marcel gave his hand a squeeze. “Let’s go home.”

Marcel had seen some strange things in his life, but what they’d just witnessed topped them all easily. His head was pounding as they shut the door to the air transport and handed them all headsets to block out some of the engine noise. Andrew trembled between them, no doubt reliving the nightmare anxiety he wrestled with, and Matthew wasn’t much better. He was staring off into space, expressionless and clearly numb. It was shock. He’d seen it before. Sometimes a body could only take so much trauma before it snapped. It looked like Matthew had reached his breaking point.

Marcel leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes, concentrating on nothing but breathing through his growing migraine. If he never saw another tree, river, or zombie again, he would be a happy man. He rubbed a hand over his face, exhausted suddenly.
The adrenaline must be wearing off
.