“Get in here,” he shouted into the lab, but no one showed up.
He slipped out the door and caught a whiff of something like cleaning solution … as well as a lab full of fallen bodies.
“Hands in the air,” came through the gas mask of an armed soldier in some kind of thick camouflaged jumpsuit, backed by several more aiming guns at him.
He was thoroughly impressed. Not only did the Death Doll bait-and-switch him with zombies, but the President snuck a host of Green Berets into the tunnel while Lavon distracted him, putting all the people of Denver asleep without a single gunshot fired.
Even as teeth hungrily sank into his neck, tearing his flesh for a most agonizing death, he just had to smile.
Well played, he thought while he died. Well played.
*****
Using the moment all the boneheads spent chowing down on their victims, Didi got off of Cody and rushed to the doorway. She found the Gamesman on the tiled ground, grunting through a grin as big as the Joker in Burton’s Batman while getting devoured by three melting corpses. She could almost swear the ill-fated tyrant was laughing.
Four gunshots rang out like firecrackers, startling Didi as each one put down a zombie and their prey.
“Don’t move,” came from a heavily garbed soldier in the lab, his voice severely strained by a gas mask while he and five more just like him aimed pistols or rifles at her. Sadly, she couldn’t obey that order right now.
She prayed for God’s aid, snatched the nearest sword from the Gamesman’s back, and ducked back into the office before the troops started shooting. Moving as quickly as possible, she hacked down all the boneheads before they could even look up from their meals to see what was killing them.
The troops stepped in and opened fire, which to her fortune wasn’t at her head.
She dropped her sword. “Okay, okay, I give,” she honked, which left her wondering how many bullets she had to pull out of her lungs now.
Those big, loopy eyeholes on the lead troop’s mask scanned the scene before the man threw a fist into the air and lowered his gun. “Stand down,” he said, which prompted all the other troops to lower their guns. “Level secure,” he said into his shoulder.
“You may want to make sure the victims don’t get up,” she reminded them.
They frowned at the bodies, then the troops took careful shots at each head on the ground, attached and otherwise, before the leader slowly approached her.
Someone in the other room yelled, “All clear!”
The lead troop took off his mask and looked around like he was impressed. His familiar grin threw her for a loop. “Nice work,” Gordy the Green Beret said.
“Thanks,” she replied rather than laughing at the irony. “Mind if I let my friends out?”
He glanced at the still-occupied cell, then smacked the desk button for her, opening the door. “Into the tunnel, everybody,” he ordered as her people filed out.
“If you don’t mind,” Didi said, “I’d like to finish my conversation with the President.”
His smile faded as he cradled his pistol in view. “Don’t push your luck, TERAN. I still owe you for—”
“Stand down, Sergeant,” the President’s voice said through the security desk equipment, which made the mighty Green Beret sulk.
She smiled at the same camera. “Thanks.”
“I suppose you want some kind of reward, huh?”
“From Nixon? Nah,” she joked, then got serious. “I just want that understanding … right after I fix my lungs.”
CHAPTER 37
DÉTENTE
Sean grew nervous when two massive crowds formed on both sides of a red-lined path, which stretched down the long, shimmering tunnel between rows of trees and sculptures. Seeing this place amazed him, but seeing their tense gazes made him quiver. But they weren’t looking at him. No, they all stared at Didi, who marched ahead of her charges with armed escorts.
“TERAN,” a few soldiers whispered at the civilians gawking in dread. Others called her what she was: the Death Doll. Somehow, the word had gotten around the mountain.
For some reason, that made him smile. He needed some encouragement after being forced to leave his wife upstairs, assured by the medics carting her away that the Army would do all they can to correct their mistake. After spending so long in the cold with a healing heart, he worried about her chances, but he took some comfort in knowing she would fight to stay with him now. The rest was up to God. He prayed He would let her stay.
*****
Peter stood when the Death Doll entered his office. Despite all the guns surrounding her and his pandemic advisor, he couldn’t help quivering in her presence again. Not only was she the single deadliest being he had ever seen in person, but she stood as a monument to his failure to create more like her. It was a lot for him to take in one woman.
“Mister President,” she said. For some reason, he couldn’t see her as an it anymore.
He nodded cordially, but he paused with a frown. “Do people just call you Death Doll?”
“Didi’s fine,” she replied with a smile.
He nodded gratefully, even if the nickname made him want to laugh. He sat back down before he remembered his manners. “Oh, sorry. My men will get you some chairs.”
“I’m good,” the TERAN said.
The doctor didn’t argue, but she did paste a nervous grin on her face, a humorous sight in one shaking as much as she did. Of course, humor never really lasted on the face of a traitor.
“Doctor,” he said grimly, “I have to say I’m disappointed—”
“I had to, sir,” she rattled off. “I couldn’t let—”
“But, in a way, I’m grateful,” he finished before she could get carried away again. “If you hadn’t sided with them, we wouldn’t be here right now.”
Doctor Sitton flashed a brief, grateful grin.
He turned his attention back to … Didi. “Before we finish our conversation, let me just say this,” he began, exhaled some unwanted tension, and bore his soul. “The Gamesman was right about me. I was the standard mudslinging, backstabbing politician you used to expect in D.C.”
A single brew flew up, as did that side of her mouth. “Used to?”
He let that slide. “The pandemic changed all that for me, and watching Saul’s mind go like that was a real eye-opener. I vowed to myself that, if I could pull us through this mess, I would do things better, less selfishly.”
“How much thought have you put into that so far? Be honest,” she added with a goading grin.
He sadly laughed at her intuition. “Well, I do have a lot on my plate.”
“I don’t doubt your desire to change things, Mister President, but I can’t imagine your political survival instincts won’t reassert themselves when push comes to shove. People are like that.”
“If you can do better, I’ll be amazed.”
“I’m not eating you, am I?” she asked pointedly, which seemed to reassure him a lot more than the agents glancing anxiously between each other.
He laughed again, but it was time to get serious. “So, what is it you want me to understand?”
“You want to wipe out zombies and rebuild the world. I want to secure the people I swore to protect. So, I propose an exchange: you keep my people safe here, and I’ll go take care of your dead president problem.”
He shook his head in disbelief, though more at her hubris than her proposal. “I’ve got over eight thousand soldiers and some fairly powerful weaponry at my disposal.”
“If that made you as confident as you just tried to sound, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” she said solemnly, though with a touch of sympathy.
Her intuition began to annoy—and scare—him. “For the moment, let’s say I agree. How would you do it? How would you end our ‘dead president problem’?”
Didi hiked her thumb at Doctor Sitton. “I distract the dead honcho while she tests the poison on his TERANs.”
Peter scoffed. “I co
uld launch the pulse device right now and accomplish the same thing.”
“But he can see it coming, can’t he? Me and the doctor he won’t.”
He marveled at the dead woman’s audacity … and at his advisor’s. “Doctor Sitton, you’ve barely even set foot outside the mountain since you got here.”
“I am the one best suited to test the subjects, sir,” Doctor Sitton said like she was still convincing herself to do this, “and I managed getting here just fine. I think I can handle this.”
“If they’re vulnerable,” Didi said, “you can take them out with your pulses and send your troops to mop up whatever’s left. Easy as the sleazy.”
He ran that through his mind and found several holes in her plan. “Poking around a den of TERANs by yourself? Too much can go wrong. If I send a Special Forces team with you—”
“With respect, I don’t need egos or bureaucracy getting in the way, and I don’t want to risk taking anyone who isn’t one hundred percent willing to go.”
“I don’t have to let you go at all,” he reminded her. “I’ll give you points for courage and ingenuity. I mean, how you tricked the Gamesman up there was genius, but I can’t just trust you to handle something this big solo, or worse: go native and turn on us.”
She slowly pulled a small, worn-out Bible from her jacket, which drew a few nervous guns straight at her head. “As I said: I made a vow.”
He wanted that to be good enough—especially given how right she was about what Saul would see coming—but it was still too risky. “You need military assistance.”
“I have all I need. Cody’s going with me.”
Doctor Sitton frowned at Didi faster than Peter could. “Cody’s injured. He needs to rest.”
“You try telling him that, Doc, because he’s already insisted on going,” Didi sassed. “You may have been engaged to him for a few months,” she added, which thoroughly surprised Peter, “but I’ve been his partner for the last two and a half years, and I know there’s no talking him out of anything when he’s made up his mind.”
The doctor looked as hurt by that as Peter was stunned. He had heard the doctor talk about a former fiancé, but that guy? Talk about wild coincidences!
“As for my people,” Didi continued for Peter, “I’m not asking for special treatment. I just want them to be safe until I get back. If any want to stay here, consider letting them. They’re a bitchy bunch, but they’re good workers who only want the same promising future as everyone down here. Oh, and they want their kids back, too; parents and guardians alike.”
Her nerve continued to amaze him. The Corps of Engineers had gutted out plenty of room under the mountain, and he had more than enough food for half a million people to last the next five decades, but he still wasn’t sold on whether or not she could do what she thinks his infantry and Special Forces couldn’t. Plus, the Death Doll was a wildcard in this plan; she clearly followed her own star, which meant he couldn’t control her. How could he guarantee the safety of his people if he couldn’t stop her from doing something that might jeopardize them?
But time was not on his side, he needed to keep the real TERANs out of this mountain, and her proposal put the fewest lives on the front lines. If nothing else, this could buy him some time.
“You’ll need to check in with my command center regularly,” he insisted.
“No problem,” she said, which didn’t really convince him.
He nodded. “See the Watch Desk for anything you need.”
“Thank you,” she said with an earnest smile and her hand out.
He stood and shook her hand, which was as strong as it was cold. “Quite a grip you’ve got.”
She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know.”
He laughed uneasily and watched her escorts lead her out. Once the door closed behind her, he faced his advisor, who quivered in his presence. “Are you sure you can do this?” he asked.
Her dread quickly gave way to determination. “Yes, sir. All I need is a microscope and someone to procure a sample. If she—we—can do this quietly, all the better.”
He nodded and sat back down.
“Mister President, I’m really sorry I—”
He threw up a hand to stop her. “You gave us the poison. Now, give us confirmation that it’ll work on the TERANs. Don’t let me down again.”
Her lovely smile grew from ear to ear. “I won’t, sir.”
He waved her on and she walked out with the brightest grin he had seen on her since she first announced her poison to him.
Peter sighed long and hard as he leaned back in his chair, trying not to dwell on all the ways this could all go wrong, when he noticed his top general loitering outside his door. “I assume that look on your face means you were eavesdropping,” he said as he waved the man in.
Gil stepped in penitently, one of the few times the general had ever looked so embarrassed. “This is a hell of a risk, Mister President. Even if this Death Doll’s a straight shooter, she’s still just one. Overwhelming force is the only thing I’ve ever trusted.”
“That one and her small group overwhelmed this mountain right before the all people of Denver did. Imagine what a horde of TERANs can do to it.”
“Agreed, sir, but … do you really believe this thing can succeed?”
Peter had to laugh in spite of himself. “After what I’ve seen her do, I’m starting to have hope.”
Gil wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t need to be. He just had to follow orders.
Whether or not his hope was misplaced, however, Peter needed a backup plan, and he had just the right person in his office to give him one. “Get me Sergeant Montgomery.”
CHAPTER 38
UNDERSTANDING
“She’s recovering,” Cody said, thankfully seated on a tree bench with his people gathered around him and his TERAN rather than straining himself on his feet. “The civilian Chief of Surgery on this level, Doctor Rath, insists the job Gilda did on her was as good as his best surgeon would’ve done under those conditions. Paula just needs time to rest, and Sean’s not leaving her side until she’s gotten enough of it.”
The people chuckled lightly. Heather pretended to laugh along, but she always had difficulty humoring something she didn’t find funny. That poor woman had been shot near the heart by the military police patrol that brought these people into the mountain, then had to suffer below-freezing temperatures for several hours before being abducted by that Gamesman. The woman was lucky she had been rescued in time.
And to have a husband with her in recovery, she thought glumly with a glance at Cody. The circumstances of their reunion were too extreme to dwell on, but now that they had passed she couldn’t help thinking about what could’ve been. His dedication to the lives of these people reminded her of the same caring man to whom she had once almost pledged her life. Their goals in life, which had split them apart seven years ago, seemed much closer now. Plus, his condition aside, he was still pleasantly fit and quite handsome, the stubble on his jaw enhancing his rugged charm in a way his uniform never did. What once was lost almost seemed to be found but for one disturbing detail.
The crowd laughed again, drawing her from her stupor. She smiled along and listened, even if the near-constant ogling of that pudgy twin made her skin crawl.
“I just hope dey safe out der,” the beefy Isaac said. “I’m guessin’ dose pulses won’t hurt ‘em if dey didn’t hurt us.” They? They who? Heather listened for clues.
Cody shrugged impotently. “The President wanted to send a battalion to secure enough ground to help them cultivate the farmland they need for good crops, but he insists on having every asset down here.” He was talking about the people of Denver, whom the President had allowed to leave without retribution or aid. “I’m just afraid of what the jexes will do now.”
Rachelle scoffed. “Yeah, let’s hope they don’t try to take the mountain again.”
Isaac shook his head. “I wish he coulda brought ‘em down here, even if I get why he didn�
��t. All dis time, livin’ like dat, dey woulda tore dis place apart.”
Heather felt bad about that, but there was nothing she could do. Of course, her mind was still processing all the files she had reviewed about Cody’s people, most of which told her very little. Two of them were famous; two others had criminal records. Yet they all somehow survived in the same small town block for two years under a TERAN’s rule. It was simply incredible.
“What about Oniel?” the redheaded teenager growled with a high-pitched voice, her pretty face marred by disgust. Cynthia Berg, an honor student from Arkansas.
“The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs assured me that guy is stripped of rank and locked down tight,” Cody said. “Between what he did to you and a few other reports about him that are surfacing,” he added with a look at Heather, “he will never wear the uniform again.
“Oh, that reminds me,” he said to his Native American middle-manager. Bob Winter Bear Grey looked surprised to be addressed. “The President looked into your, um, request after you blew up at him. President Simpson sent troops to warn every reservation in the country right after the outbreak went public. The majority refused to leave, including the Santee. The few that did followed troops to various safe zones. The one the Nebraska National Guard had set up in Norfolk had over a hundred thousand people when it got overrun. Very few survived, and no one knows who or where any of them are. You may not be the last of your people.”
Bob sighed heavily, his dark eyes falling. “Damned either way,” he said grimly.
Cody patted the man’s shoulder before facing the others. “As for the rest of you, the President is letting you stay here while we’re gone—permanently, if you want—and they have all the facilities, jobs, schooling, food, water, and clothing you need.”
They muttered excitedly amongst themselves.
“The catch is they have to assess you, whether you’re moving in or not, and those who want to stay they’ll place in their workforce themselves. They have this whole process.”
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