“We’re at the office. We need to work as a team or we won’t get through this.”
Sharp Suit’s instincts were telling him to speak with the police. After a couple minutes’ deliberation, he pushed the door open.
“I have to do this,” he said.
“Ben!” Big Man said. “Ben! God damn it.”
Ben a.k.a. Sharp Suit had already left.
“Julie, can you bring him back here, please?” Big Man said.
“I’m not going out there,” Julie said. “I’ll get shot.”
“So could Ben.”
“That’s his choice to make.”
A sound, somewhere at the opposite end of the office.
“What was that?” the Teenager said.
“Maybe the police are trying to come in another way?” Julie said. “God, I hope they knew we’re the good guys.”
The Teenager typed something into her phone and held it over her head. A message flashed across the screen.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Julie said.
“Sending them a message to let them know we’re not the bad guys.”
Julie read the message as it flashed across the Teenager’s phone: DONT SHOOT US. WE R ON UR SIDE. The word “shoot” was replaced with an image of a gun. The message was signed off with a pink love heart.
“I despair for future generations,” Julie said. “Genuinely, I do.”
33.
BEN HAD never been in a situation like this his entire life. He was determined to make the most of it.
He found it oddly exhilarating to realize his life was on the line. The high stakes depended on him making the right decision. And then there was the potential fame aspect. Millions of people in the country and beyond would set eyes upon him within the next few minutes. Until now, he might as well have not existed. Now he had the chance to be somebody.
Ben was unfortunate to have been born in the mid-80s. He remembered a time without the internet, without smartphones, without social media, without, even, YouTube. He wished he couldn’t. That way, he could have emerged alongside the burgeoning internet technologies like true millennials had.
He might have been a great influencer. He might have been an awesome self-made celebrity. He hadn’t had those as options. Instead, he’d chosen what everyone told him was the “safe” route in life and became a programmer. It wasn’t bad work but it hardly stimulated the creative mind. It was hard to turn yourself into someone important.
Now he had an opportunity. He’d come out as the hero who put everything on the line to rescue his fellow coworkers and bring the scumbag who’d torn through the city to justice. He’d get a bunch of national interviews—maybe some international ones too—and would leverage that into a huge following. He’d already begun working on his first piece of content.
His phone was tucked in the breast pocket of his shirt. It was recording everything happening right at that moment. A POV of the birth of America’s next great hero. He’d sell it to the highest bidder.
He crossed the lackluster design of the first-floor office and took a deep breath. He approached the shattered glass of the front door of the overpriced Blue Skies travel agency. He held up his hands on either side of his head and stepped through the gap.
The lights, like a spotlight, were blinding. Helicopters thudded overhead. Multiple red dots grew on his person like a serious case of measles.
“Have no fear citizens, for Ben Gracie is here. I’m here to tell you that—”
He didn’t get another word out as someone grabbed him and tossed him down. His face smacked the tarmac. He tasted blood.
“Have you been bitten?” an aggressive voice said.
“What? No.”
“Are you sure?”
Normally, he would have responded with sass but right then, in front of all those cameras, he needed to look like a winner. Winners were serious people. “Yes. I’m sure.”
“Do you have any cuts or open wounds?”
“Huh?”
“Answer the question!”
“No! I don’t have any cuts or open wounds!”
A pause as the aggressive man conferred with someone Ben couldn’t see.
“Can I get up now?” Ben said.
“How did you get out?” a softer female voice said.
Ben cleared his throat and tried to speak in a booming voice. It was difficult with half his face plastered to the road.
“I caught him,” Ben said.
“Who?”
“The bad guy.”
“You caught him? Alone?”
Humility was the trait of a hero, Ben told himself, though he didn’t much want to share the responsibility of capturing a felon.
“Me and my coworkers, that is, my coworkers and I, caught him,” Ben said. “But mostly it was me.”
“Where is he now?” the aggressive voice said.
“In a chair on the second floor. I can take you to him.”
“Who’s watching him now?”
“My coworkers. Look, the sooner we get there, the better. Without me, my coworkers can’t cope with him for long.”
Yeah, that sounds good.
Someone lifted Ben off the tarmac, blood spilling from his swollen lips. He was face to face with a visor. It slid up, revealing a man with the palest face Ben had ever seen.
The man shoved him back toward the smashed door.
“Show us,” he said.
“With honor, good sir,” Ben said.
His hopes had shrivelled a little. The aggressive man had the face of a hero. Chiseled jaw, penetrating gaze. But that was okay. Ben could live with being a sidekick, so long as he got his share of the spotlight.
34.
“TOMMY.”
“I spoke with the family,” Guy said, walking down the stairs with his cell to his ear. “The mother identified him. It was Michael. He didn’t speak much about his plan.”
“Are you sure?”
“Certain.”
“Okay. Head back to base.”
“You don’t want me in Dallas?”
“With half the army with us, I think we’ve got enough firepower already.”
“Understood.” Guy hung up.
He hit the bottom of the stairs, weaving between the guests who were now being allowed back onto their floor. Guy looked in the direction of the news reporters and grimaced.
“Did everything go well?” Smyth said.
“Yes. Listen. You don’t happen to know of a back way out of here, do you?”
“Sure. It’s on the way to the kitchen. I found a live cow but the chef refused to slaughter it.”
“What? That was a joke, man!”
“Oh. But I thought. . . Never mind.”
“Is there a back way out of here or not?”
“Yes. This way.”
Guy would have done anything to avoid the rabble outside. They looked a great deal like the undead vying for a scrap of meat.
35.
“SOMEONE NEEDS to check out the noise,” Baldy said. “It could be Danny.”
“It’s okay,” Julie said. “Here he comes. Look.”
Danny loped down the corridor, limping on one foot. It told Michael a lot that no one commented on the shuffling gait of their coworker. To his eyes, he could only be one thing. He supposed the others were used to the strange way he walked.
“It’s only Danny,” Julie said. “If Ben manages to get outside, maybe that’s what we should do too—”
“He got out!” the Teenager said. “Look! You can see him on a live feed. Someone’s recording him from across the street.”
“Probably Programming Made Easy,” Big Man said with vehemence. “They’re always one step ahead of us. Imagine the free press they’re getting right now.”
“Is Ben okay?” Julie said.
“He’s fine,” the Teenager said. “He’s talking to the cops now!”
“You’re meant to be calling the cops,” Big Man said.
“I’m do
ing both,” the Teenager said. “I started watching footage of this event while waiting for someone to answer my call.”
“Clever girl.”
The Teenager grinned and chuckled shyly. Definitely something going on there, Michael thought. Since when did a boss call a coworker “girl”?
“Uhhh,” Danny groaned as he drew closer.
He was almost on them now. Michael would soon be free from what felt like the worst TV show ever produced.
“Are you all right, buddy?” Blocked Nose said. “You sound a little under the weather.”
“Uuhhh,” Danny said.
“I’m not sure he’s well at all,” Julie said. “In fact, I think he’s a—”
The Teenager turned the flashlight of her phone on Danny. His skin was paler than usual, his eyes rolled back in his head. It was immediately apparent what he had become.
“Zombie!” the Teenager said. “The rumors on social media are true! I swear I’ll never doubt anything I see on social media ever again!”
The gang flew back, putting some distance between them and the creature. Big Man maintained his grip and wheeled Michael to safety. Michael kicked out his legs to hook around something. Anything. His foot bounced off desks and worktables. Nothing connected.
“What are we meant to do?” Julie cried.
“Lead it around the room,” Big Man said. “Then we can escape.”
“‘It’?” the Teenager said. “I’m not sure we should be referring to this thing as ‘it’. There are plenty of other biological sex terms we can use.”
“You think it cares?” Blocked Nose said. Now Michael could see him, he realized he was a fat tub of lard. One of those guys where his ass began halfway up his back.
Along the back wall were a series of radiators. Michael hooked his leg around a protrusion and jammed his foot in good and tight. Big Man pulled up short. He tugged on Michael, trying to dislodge him.
“What are you doing?” Julie said.
“His leg got caught on something!” Big Man said. “Do you want to die, asshole?”
“What is dead may never die,” Michael said.
“Game of Thrones fan, huh?” the Teenager said.
“Forget this,” Big Man said. “If you want to die, so be it. I’m not dying trying to protect you.”
Danny was right on top of them. Big Man left Michael and ran.
Finally! I’m free!
Danny paid him little attention and chased after the fresh meat.
“What the hell?” Big Man said, glancing over his shoulder. “How come he didn’t go for the other guy?”
“You really want to test if he isn’t into man burgers?” Julie said.
Michael calmly walked to the entrance, scooping up his shotgun in the process. He waited for the others to continue their lap around the room. Danny was cheating, cutting corners and reducing the distance between himself and his prey.
“Out of the way!” Big Man said, waving his arms to force Michael to move.
“I don’t think so,” Michael said.
Big Man set his jaw and sped up, swinging his arm back to knock Michael aside. Michael swung the butt of the shotgun around and knocked Big Man into the wall. Dazed, he struggled to get to his feet.
“What are you doing?” Julie said. “He’s going to catch us!”
“Then you’d best do what I say, hadn’t you?” Michael said. He turned to Blocked Nose. “Give me your phone.”
“My phone?” Blocked Nose said. “What for?”
“Just give it to him!” the Teenager said, eying the zombie drawing ever closer.
Blocked Nose pressed his lips together, dug his hand in his pocket, and handed it over.
Michael pressed a few buttons and slid it into a pencil case on a desk.
“What did you do that for?” Blocked Nose said, reaching over to take his phone back.
“Touch it, and you’re dinner,” Michael said.
Blocked Nose hesitated.
“Your decision,” Michael said.
Blocked Nose relented. Michael pushed the door open, exited, and waited for the others to follow him. He shut the door behind him. Danny pressed his face against the window, making funny faces in it.
“Now that’s a face for radio,” Michael said.
“That was easy enough,” Big Man said. “If you were going to let us pass anyway, why did you have to slug me in the face?”
He began to descend the stairs.
“Uh-uh,” Micheal said. “Up, not down.”
“But the police are this way,” Big Man said.
Michael aimed the shotgun at him. “Precisely.”
36.
BEN HAD asked the soldiers for a weapon. A pistol would have been fine. It would look awesome with his camera still recording in his pocket. But they refused to play along.
“Weapons aren’t toys,” the aggressive soldier said.
“Then how come he gets one?” Ben said.
Sean grinned, clutching his gun close.
Ben led them through the first-floor travel agency and then up the first flight of stairs. The soldiers were clearly not very trusting people as they searched each and every crevice of the office before they reached him.
“Finished?” Ben said impatiently. “I told you, he’s up on the second floor. Not down here. You’re wasting time.”
“The man we’re looking for has slipped through our fingers more than once,” the aggressive soldier said. “For all we know, you might be under his thumb.”
“Pfft. Me? He can’t manipulate me! I’m the top salesman this quarter. Nothing gets past me.”
He led the way up the stairs, around the bend and up the subsequent flight to the second floor. He crouched down low and approached the door that led to their offices.
“In here,” Ben said. “Inside, on the right.”
The leader gestured for him to step aside so they could do their thing. So, you can hog all the limelight? I don’t think so.
Ben seized the door handle, shoved it open with his shoulder and burst into the room.
“Hands up, scum-sucking asshole!” Ben said.
Man, that was going to look good on TV. He’d get movie roles for sure.
His smile dimmed as he peered at the dark, empty room. The chair the criminal had been sitting on lay on its side at the back. His colleagues were nowhere to be seen. Ben straightened up.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “They were right here.”
“Look out!” the female soldier shouted.
Ben was slow to turn.
Behind him, approaching in a slow, inefficient gait, was a figure highlighted by the torches of the soldiers behind him.
“Danny?” Ben managed before he fell on top of him.
Danny had always been jealous of Ben’s style. Now he was getting his own back. Ah well. At least I’m dying in a sharp suit.
37.
MICHAEL AND his unwilling gang of accomplices had already proceeded up the stairs. They stopped off for a moment on the third and fourth floors. In both cases, Michael took one of his hostages’ phones and placed it amongst the belongings on the desk closest to the entrance. Then they moved to the fifth, and final, floor.
It was another large office space, identical in appearance to the second floor setup.
There was no doubt in Michael’s mind that one of his cohorts was would attempt to play the hero card. When they did, Michael would have to shut them down and show them the way things were going to be so the others wouldn’t get the same idea.
They moved to the largest desk at the top of the office. Behind them was a private office, no doubt belonging to the company’s big boss. The door was shut and Michael didn’t have need of it. Yet.
He fell into the comfortable leather seat behind the desk. The others sat in front of it. Michael positioned the shotgun on the edge of the table so it was easy for him to aim at any of them at a moment’s notice.
“Tell me about this building,” Michael said. “Are t
here any special escape routes, secret passageways, things like that?”
“This isn’t Hogwarts,” the Teenager said. “Why don’t you let us go? Then you don’t need to worry about us. I’m sure it’ll be easier to escape that way.”
“I’m afraid not. You’re the only reason they don’t nuke this entire building from existence. The entire block for that matter.”
“The military’s out there, right?” Blocked Nose said. “You’re doomed. Hand yourself in. They’ll be lenient on you.”
“Ha!” Michael waved a finger at him. “I didn’t take you to have a sense of humor.” He turned to the middle-aged woman. “You’re Julie, right?”
She looked perturbed he knew her name. Michael tossed her a roll of Sellotape.
“Find the edge of this and come here,” he said.
Julie glanced at the others before approaching him.
“What do you want me to do with it?” she said.
“Take my jacket off.”
By her expression, you might have thought he’d asked her to perform a lewd act.
“You should be so lucky,” Michael said. “You’re not my type.”
With a pinched expression, Julie set to unzipping his jacket and peeling it off first one jacket arm, then the other. It was soaked red with blood. She let it drop to the floor.
“Now the shirt,” Michael said.
Julie peeled that off too. As she removed it, she saw there had to be a dozen or more holes in it. When she looked at him, she gasped.
“Take a picture,” Michael said. “It’ll last longer.”
A light flashed. Michael’s head snapped up. The Teenager actually had taken a picture.
“You did say I could,” she said.
“Let me see it.”
With some reticence, the Teenager handed over her phone. Michael appraised the photo. It looked pretty cool, so didn’t delete it. But he did tuck her phone in his pocket.
“Hey!” the Teenager said.
Michael shifted the gun so it pointed at her.
“I realize your phone is your life but is it worth losing your life for?” he said.
Death Squad (Book 2): Zombie State Page 11