The Down Home Zombie Blues (23 page)

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Authors: Linnea Sinclair

BOOK: The Down Home Zombie Blues
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That told her something else. Prow and the Tresh had been on this planet for at least as long as the Guardians had, if not longer.

“You’re alone on this nil world. I’m sure that fact has come to your attention.”

Did you destroy my ship?
The question was on the tip of her tongue, but she held back. Prow would lie, or, rather, he’d tell her whatever would make her easier to manipulate. Which was, yes, that the
Sakanah
was gone.

“I’ve worked solo or with a small team before.”

“They’re not coming back for you, Mikkalah.”

Because they flashed out or because you destroyed them?
She shrugged. “Someone will. I can wait. I’ve waited in worse places.”
Like your prison compound.

“Waiting is a waste of your time and considerable talents. Talents we recognize and could use.” He smiled at her, and killfrost spun its way up the crevices of her spine. “I have an offer.”

“I’m not interested.”

“You haven’t heard it.”

“I don’t have to.”

He stepped to his left, his L-2 undulating as he moved. Jorie could hear Tam’s harsh, strained breathing.
Hang on, Tam.
All Jorie needed was for him to take two more steps. One might even do. Her modified Hazer packed one hell’s wrath of a punch he wouldn’t expect. Hopefully it would get to him before he had time to respond.

She could also use Theo’s bed between them for cover and, if Prow was still standing, her Hazer could keep him away from Tam while she set off another earsplitter—all that Tresh beauty came with a price—from the MOD-tech behind him. Tech he hadn’t destroyed because he hadn’t had time? Or because he knew what she knew about the zombies? And he needed it like she did?

“Respectfully, I disagree,” he was saying. “You do need to listen.”

Respectfully?
Jorie would have laughed out loud, but that would require her closing her eyes, however briefly. She couldn’t do that.

“Your charm overwhelms me. Release my lieutenant. That might put me in a more blissful frame of mind.”

“I fear it’s a bit too late for that. And her.”

No, don’t look down. He wants you distracted.

She saw him tap a small band on his wrist. And she heard a corresponding thin, keening wail from Tam, followed by a harsh panting. Then a short, very soft two-tone chime.

Bile rose in her stomach. She knew that sound. A Devastator restrainer implant recycling up to the next power level. If her hands had been free, Jorie knew one would already be clasping the scar near her neck.

“Kill her and you’ll have nothing to bargain with,” she said harshly.

“Isn’t that like
negotiate
? Sorry, not in my vocabulary.” Prow touched his wrist.

Tam screamed.

“Stop it, Prow!”

“The memory never fades, does it? You know exactly what she’s going through.” He moved his fingers to his wrist again as he stepped toward her. Away from Tam. “Are you ready to listen to me now?”

It was the only chance she had. She had to let him touch the implant signal. She had to pray that, in that microsecond, he’d be focused on the implant, and his reflexes with his pistol would be just that much slower than hers.

Head shot. The rifle would lose a little after breaking through the shielding, but a head shot was her best chance. She watched his fingers.
Forgive me, Tamlynne. But it’s going to hurt for a little longer.

“Go to hell,” she told him through gritted teeth.

Prow’s shield suddenly flared bright red and he staggered back, body twisting at the waist, iridescent eyes wide in surprise.

Out of the corner of her eye Jorie recognized Theo, his large projectile weapon clutched in both hands. Theo moving steadily toward her out of his bathroom doorway.

Prow stumbled, one hand now clutching his shoulder. Blood gushed between his fingers as if he’d been stabbed. No, not stabbed—shot by Theo’s nil-tech pistol. How and why that was, she had no time to consider. Prow raised his weapon.

Jorie darted sideways and fired, Hazer energy boring a yellow ringed hole in the already disintegrating L-2 shield. Prow ducked, twisting again. Another loud crack from her left. Another red flare.

Prow screamed something into his transcomm, and before she could get him in her sights again, he was gone.

The restrainer field around Tamlynne Herryck evaporated with his departure.

“Tam!” Jorie dropped to her knees, pressing her hand against her lieutenant’s pale, damp face. The woman shivered, convulsions starting. There was no time to deal with them. The Tresh could be back at any moment. She had to secure the structure.

“Theo—”

But he was already there beside her, on his knees.

“She’s going to convulse,” she told him quickly. “Keep her stable. Don’t let her hurt herself. I have to set shields around your structure. Then I can help.”

She sprang to her feet, lunging for the row of tech along the wall. She pushed her mouth mike into place, and with three words she segued her scanner to the larger tech units and continued to work voice commands while her fingers keyed in overrides.

Theo’s structure wasn’t large. She could lock it down for now. The Tresh might eventually unscramble her shielding, but it would buy her time. Time to get help for Tam. Time to search for Rordan.

“Grid One in place. Grid Two.” She spoke out loud, hoping Tam could hear her and would know what her commander was doing, why she wasn’t at her side. “Grid Three. Holding, locking. Grid Four. Almost there. Locking now. Grid Five. Synchronizing. Holding. Locking.” She took one last look at the security pattern, checking for breaches. “We’re secure.”

She sucked in a long breath and pulled her hand away from the screen. It was shaking.

She turned around. Theo had wrapped a blanket around Tamlynne and was holding her head back, keeping her airway clear. He glanced at her.

“The Tresh can’t beam back in?”

“Not now,” Jorie said, crouching down beside them, scanner out. She picked up the resonance of the unit Prow had injected in Tam almost immediately. “He put an implant in her,” she told Theo as the scanner searched through hundreds of combinations to find the right code to neutralize the implant. “Like yours. Except—”

“Much worse.”

“Much.” A series of numbers fell into line, then vanished. No. Close, but not the code. Vomit-brained whore spawns!

“You had an implant,” Theo said. “A Tresh one—not one like mine.”

She pulled her attention from the screen and looked at him. He must have heard her conversation with Prow while he was in his bathroom. How had he gotten in there? And how had he destroyed an L-2 shield? Questions she needed answered—later. “I was taken prisoner by the Tresh during the war. They put an implant in me, yes.”

He just nodded, his eyes darkening with emotion.

She went back to her screen. She didn’t want his pity.

More numbers lined up. She held her breath. Could it be…? Yes. Yes. The implant’s power field dropped down three levels. Tam’s shuddering halted, and her cries of anguish were replaced by soft moans. Jorie couldn’t shut down the Tresh restrainer completely. But she could at least make the pain somewhat bearable, until a med-tech…

“Will she be okay?” Theo touched Jorie’s arm.

“I…For now.” There were no Guardian med-techs here. And, depending on what kind of signal she could rig from whatever tech remained, it could be months, even a year, before a Guardian ship could find them.
Damn you, Prow!

“What’s wrong?” Theo asked softly.

Damn you, Petrakos,
she wanted to say.
Sometimes I swear you read my mind.

“Can you put her on the bed? If she’s warm and she sleeps, it will be better.”

Theo lifted Tam gently, Jorie unwrapping the blanket as he did so. Then she tucked it around Tam again as Theo pushed a pillow under the lieutenant’s curls. Tam whimpered, but exhaustion and pain took its toll. Her eyes fluttered closed.

Jorie ran through the codes two more times but found nothing better. She put her scanner on the bedside table. Its signal would block the implant as best it could until she could rig a dedicated unit out of what was left of the tech in the spare room.

“It’s still hurting her.” It wasn’t a question. Theo seemed to know Jorie couldn’t shut down the implant.

“That’s not the only problem.” She ran both hands through her hair, her muscles suddenly taught with anger. “It will kill her. Two, three days. If we don’t disengage it, it will kill her. And the ship, my med-techs, aren’t here to help. Damn it!” She spun away from him, from Tam lying helpless in the wide bed, and headed for the hall, chest tight, eyes blurring.

Theo caught up with her at the doorway, one arm circling her waist, the other around her back, gathering her and her rifle against him, hard. For a moment she stiffened, wanting to pull away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. Theo’s face—that very good face—was in her hair. He whispered her name, telling her, “Hush, it will be all right.”

It would not be all right. Her ship was gone. The Tresh were here. The zombies were in Tresh control. She was stuck on a nil world. Her top lieutenant and close friend was dying. And she had no idea if Kip and Jacare were even alive.

So she clung to Theo, her good friend Theo, just for a moment. Clung to his reassuring warmth and hard-muscled strength and closed her eyes, tucking her face against his neck.

It would not be all right. But at least for the next few moments, she was not alone.

“Hush, Jorie.”

She raised her face. “I have more problems. And work to do.”

He brought his hands to rest on her shoulders. “We have work to do. And we’ll solve these problems together. But first,” and he grinned sheepishly, “I have to rescue my laser pistol. It, uh, got wedged behind the toilet when I climbed through the bathroom window to try to sneak up on Prow.”

“You climbed through…?” Jorie shook her head distractedly at his embarrassment and at the mental picture of Theo’s large form squeezing through the small opening. “Why didn’t you use the Tresh rifle?” It was still draped across his chest.

“I’ve never shot it.”

She’d forgotten, again, that he was a nil. “I’ll show you later,” she said, and stepped into the hallway, her mind already sorting through plans, options. A bit of bliss luck: they’d acquired two more weapons. But their locale was her immediate concern. Theo’s residence was small enough; she might be able to set the shields in a randomizer pattern that would baffle the Tresh for a good long while. That would provide her with a secure base of operations but would also limit her movements.

A lot also depended on how large a base the Tresh had here. They must have more than that house she’d found. Obviously the Guardians had underestimated them. Interrogating the Tresh female could—

She stopped in the main room. The female wasn’t on the floor. Hell’s wrath! She flipped the Hazer back to stun, turning quickly. “Petrakos!”

Quick footsteps from the hall behind her. “Here. What—”

Jorie glanced over her shoulder at him. “Where is she?”

“She?” He had his G-1 out now. “Fuck.”

Jorie understood the emotion behind the word if not the meaning.

Theo crossed the room and stopped at the galley doorway, his weapon angled against his chest. Jorie sprinted behind him, listening for the same thing he was: a Tresh female, waiting for them.

She heard nothing. She checked the readout on her Hazer, looking for the possible resonance of an L-1 or L-2 shield—the best she could hope for without her weapon pointed at a target. Nothing again. She signaled her lack of information to Theo with a shake of her head and a slight shrug, then flipped her oc-set into place.

“On three.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “One. Two—”

He swept into the galley, moving right. She followed, going left. The galley was empty. They both spun slowly around one more time, then lowered their weapons.

“Shit,” Theo said through tight lips. Jorie held back from pointing out that while a spoor trail would certainly be helpful in finding the female, the Tresh didn’t routinely leave behind excrement in their wakes. She’d begun to figure out that references to deities, excrement, and certain other bodily functions, when uttered in anger, were a sign of intense displeasure on this world.

“Let’s recheck the house.” Theo pushed past her, out of the galley. Jorie hurried after him. Five minutes later they were in the galley again.

Theo leaned against the counter next to the water dispenser and shook his head. “My fault. I take responsibility. She was out cold. I even cuffed her.” His eyes narrowed. “Bitch has my best cuffs. Unless…”

He was reaching for the door to go outside when Jorie grabbed his arm.

“Don’t! Your structure’s shielded.”

He shot her a puzzled look, brow furrowing slightly. She stepped in front of him and pulled at the door. “Here.” She took his wrist and brushed the back of his hand against the faint haze visible through the ocular over her right eye.

He jerked back with a short yelp. An alarm wailed briefly from the bedroom, then silenced. “That could be a problem if one of my neighbors comes over unexpectedly. Is there any way we could set it to only zap the Tresh?”

“No, but I can reset the security perimeter to within your structure’s wall. Or only around specific rooms,” Jorie told him, again damning the fact she had to operate in a nil environment and not a military one. “But then you’ll have to be more careful.” He didn’t have an ocular and couldn’t see the shield as she could.

Theo gingerly pushed the door closed. “I can deal with that better than I can deal with an innocent neighbor getting fried. Besides, if that Tresh woman does come back in, she’s not going to be much of a threat with her hands cuffed behind her back.”

Jorie sagged back against the galley table, perching one hip on its edge. “I don’t think she’s out there. Sem’s body is gone. The Tresh must have transported them while I was confronting Prow.” And before she’d locked the structure down in a grid shield. Damn! Hell and damn. Eight years of hunting zombies with the Guardians and she’d gone soft on tactics against the Tresh.

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