Vengeful Hearts (Dead Hearts Book 3)

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Vengeful Hearts (Dead Hearts Book 3) Page 9

by Susanne L. Lambdin


  A Bandit team leader broke rank and ran toward his captain, but was stopped short. A husky Shadowguard blocked his path and sent the Bandit sailing into the flames on the hospital roof. Amber-colored eyes locked with Highbrow’s as a vampire stepped in front of him.

  “The Kaiser wants you, Captain,” the vampire said in a menacing voice.

  Highbrow kicked snow up into the Shadowguard’s face and dashed toward a discarded AK-47 laying in the snow. Hurling himself forward, Highbrow dove on a patch of ice toward the rifle. The remaining Bandits came to his aid, encircling him and swinging their machetes as the dark figures closed in.

  Odin stood at a window in the mess hall, picking off vampires trying to reach Highbrow. His steady, accurate gunfire kept the Shadowguard back, but reinforcements appeared around the side of the burning hospital, overwhelming the exhausted Bandits. Breaking through the mass of bodies, Highbrow made it to the door of the mess hall, continuing to fire at the figures in black coats.

  “Get in here,” Odin shouted. “We can go out the back door!”

  Highbrow used his rifle as a makeshift club to fight off two more vampires trying to get inside the mess hall. Betsy and the children gathered in windows, shooting back at the incoming vampires. Highbrow managed to grab the latch to the door, but someone yanked his cap off and spun him around. Another push sent him stumbling forward as a sharp object sliced across his face. Unable to determine how many Shadowguard surrounded him, Highbrow swung his rifle back and forth as unseen hands pushed him. Laughter came from several directions as they grabbed him and tossed him into a snowdrift.

  As Highbrow struggled to rise, a dark-haired young woman in a negligee appeared out of nowhere and rushed the Shadowguard. She vanished from sight, leaving countless bodies missing their heads. The Shadowguard began retreating to the waterfall.

  “What the hell?” Highbrow rose to his feet, dazed and confused.

  “Protect the Captain,” Micah cried out. The white-haired Dark Angel hurried over to Highbrow, along with the remaining six members of his team. “We won’t let them get you, sir.”

  The snow turned red from the mess hall to the waterfall, as dozens of Shadowguard soldiers were dropped in twisted, freakish positions, every one missing their head.

  Odin opened the door. “Are you alright, sir?”

  “I’m fine, now that the Earth Corps has arrived. Micah, come with me. The rest of you stay here with Odin and protect the children.”

  Highbrow set off with Micah toward the tunnel where the sick children were hiding, passing a familiar figure in the snow. A Dark Angel lay face down in the snow, bright red hair spread out in chaos. Micah let out a pitiful sound, stumbling. Ginger was dead.

  Fighting continued at the mouth of the tunnel. The Bulldogs were trying to hold back a large force of Shadowguard gathered at the entrance. Buccaneers leaned over the side of the lookout point, taking shots at whatever moved on the ground. Micah moved ahead in fury, attacking the enemy from behind, leaving Highbrow to take cover behind a tree. The captain fired at the Shadowguard scaling the cliff, some of them converging on the Buccaneers. The Bulldogs’ line broke, and the Shadowguard poured into the tunnel. The sounds of screaming children echoed in the darkness.

  Highbrow ran forward, determined to rally the Bulldogs and stop the slaughter, but a hard form knocked him off his feet. He watched from the ground, stunned as the Shadowguard were hurled out of the tunnel without their heads. Micah and the Bulldogs formed a line at the tunnel, fighting off members of the Shadowguard who had yet to begin scaling the cliff.

  “Anyone injured inside the cave?” Highbrow asked. He joined Micah and the Bulldogs, standing inside the entrance in order to avoid the spattering blood and bodies falling from above.

  Micah shook his head, morose. “No serious injuries. Minor cuts and scrapes.” He paused as a petite figure drenched in blood appeared. “Sir, it’s China Star!”

  In disbelief, Highbrow ran to her. Star locked her fierce gaze on him and fell to her knees. He dropped his pistol and pulled Star into his arms, hugging her while she pressed against him, trembling. The sound of gunfire and screams ended; the camp was still. There were no signs of Cadence or the Earth Corps. Every last Shadowguard lay dead, and Star stood alone.

  “She did that?” asked Micah, joining them. “How is it possible?”

  “Get on the radio, Micah,” Highbrow said. “Check in with Lt. Sterling. You Bulldogs hurry to the lookout point and see to the Buccaneers.”

  “I just came from there. The Buccaneers are dead,” Star said, pulling back. “One of the Shadowguard had a remote control, but he and the cyborg zombies won’t be causing any more trouble. Pallaton’s already retreated back to the Citadel. I doubt he’ll return soon.”

  “How did you get here?” Highbrow asked. “I thought you were a prisoner?”

  Star was barefoot and her lingerie was shredded. He removed his coat and covered her slender shoulders.

  “I came here to warn you about Pallaton and his troops. I had the lead on him, so I dealt with the zombies and then came to find you.” Her smile flashed white amidst the blood. “They didn’t stand a chance against me. Won’t the Kaiser be surprised when Pallaton returns with his story? I’m sure he’ll make something up or be disgraced.”

  “You arrived just in time. I sent word to the Earth Corps and thought they answered the call, but it was just you. I don’t know what else to say. Thank you. Thank you for coming. You saved us, Star.”

  “I had help. Your camp fought well, Highbrow.”

  Rose stepped out of the cave, holding a child in her arms. The doctor was injured protecting the children. Micah took the child from Rose and led the rest of children to the mess hall where Tandor waited, his body suit and face burned.

  “It’s a miracle you got here when you did, Star,” Rose said, walking over to Star. She looked her over, satisfied she was uninjured. “You have no idea how relieved I was when you appeared in the tunnel. I’d given up hope. The children would all be dead if you hadn’t arrived. I appreciate you saving us…but how did you become a mutant?”

  “Mutant?” Star laughed. “Dragon gave me his blood and turned me. I’m a Chameleon, Doc, not a mutant. I’ve also been told Cadence is immortal, so maybe we are too.”

  “Will you be staying, Star?” Highbrow asked. “I’m not going to pretend I don’t need your help, when it’s obvious I do. At least until we get things under control.”

  She nodded. “For a while. I’ll help with camp repairs and security, but then I’m leaving to join Cadence. I want to see her and Thor.” She slid her arms into Highbrow’s coat and zipped it up. “Come on, Rose. I need to get cleaned up and find something else to wear. Keep me company, will you? I have so much to tell you.”

  “Then report back to me! Both of you!” Highbrow watched the two women depart before walking to the mess hall.

  By late evening, order was restored to the camp, and repairs to the Moon Tower were in progress. The front entrance required snow ploughs to remove the hundreds of zombies and body parts. Those fallen in battle included the War Gods, Buccaneers, Bandits, Monster Squad, Blue Devils, most of the scavengers, and over half the Dark Angels. A mass funeral would be held at Midnight Falls.

  Highbrow returned to the Freedom Army barracks and claimed the command center as his new quarters. He sent Private Odin to fetch cots and blankets. Tandor sat behind a desk, attempting to bring up the surveillance cameras. The cameras, landlines, and shortwave radio were all down, making it impossible to contact Cadence.

  “The Shadowguard knew where to strike,” Tandor said. His dark eyebrows hung like thick feathers above his alert brown eyes. Smudges of filth covered his body suit and his right arm looked like someone had used a rake to try to remove the material. “Pallaton won’t be greeted with open arms by the Kaiser for yet another failure to take this camp. Micah and Rose put too much trust in Pallaton. He may believe he’s doing the right thing by not destroying the camp, but I left h
im with a permanent reminder I no longer consider him a friend.”

  Highbrow noticed a few missing parts from the radio. Tandor had taken it apart and rebuilt it, but it didn’t seem to be working. “Can you get the radio going again?”

  “It works, but something is blocking our transmission.” Tandor turned up the volume and static filled the room. He tried every channel then turned it off again, disgusted. “Something nearby is interfering with it, but whether that’s the Citadel or another military base, I don’t know. Until it’s located and destroyed, though, we’re not contacting anyone.”

  “Then the only alternative is to send someone to Cadence’s camp. She asked for your help. They must be experiencing the same problem, and may have an idea what’s causing it. Go pack your gear, Tandor. You’re leaving.”

  Nomad and Micah appeared in the doorway. Both men had been busy making repairs. Splotches of soot and blood covered the biker’s coat and face. Micah’s white hair was in tangles, his jacket torn, and his features were gaunt. There were bits of dried blood where Micah had been crying. Nomad gave a quick account of their progress before the two sat down.

  “It’s starting to snow.” Nomad stretched out his legs. “Star is anxious to head out to Cadence’s camp. I could take both Star and Tandor in the Battle Beast. I wouldn’t mind Micah going along in case we run into any more Shadowguard.”

  “You will if you drive,” Highbrow said. “Tandor can leave on foot, but I need Star here. Both of you get something to eat and then make sure the generators are working. The Kaiser has been providing our camp with electricity because Colorado Springs has it, but once he cuts it off, we’re in trouble. I don’t want those kids freezing to death.”

  Tandor stood up and hoisted his sword belt off the back of the chair. “While I’m gone, I suggest you reconsider moving this camp, Captain. Cadence can offer protection and safety for the kids. The only reason everyone’s still alive is because the Kaiser doesn’t know where she is, and he’s hoping someone will leak the information, which is another reason I can’t have Nomad and Micah going with me.”

  “I have a good idea where her camp is,” Micah said, “but don’t worry, I’m not telling. Ever since she left, I’ve felt like the camp was being watched from the inside. I’m even beginning to doubt my own shadow. Be careful going over the mountains. The trails will be watched.”

  “If I can send help back,” Tandor said, “I will, Captain. But you’d best keep guards at your door, day and night, in case they come back for you.”

  Rising from his chair, Micah saw Tandor out. Nomad unzipped his leather coat and pulled out a bottle of bourbon. He took a sip and stood to hand the bottle to Highbrow.

  “You did good today. I’m proud of you, son.”

  Highbrow shook his head. “I don’t deserve any credit. I lost five patrol teams and most of the Dark Angels died trying to protect me. Star is the only reason Pallaton failed. She showed up when we needed her most, but Raven let her go. I just can’t understand either Pallaton or Raven; I don’t know whether or not they’re on our side or not, or why they remain at the Citadel.”

  “Because we need inside help. Without them, we’re in the dark.”

  Nomad lit up a cigar and sat down, puffing like a dragon. Highbrow found the smoke comforting, though he had stopped smoking after banning cigarettes from camp. It was a habit he didn’t want the younger kids picking up. Micah returned long enough to see that guards were standing outside the door and left again.

  “I can’t figure out Micah either,” Highbrow said. He sat in a chair behind his desk and took a sip of bourbon. “Vampires don’t think like we do. Rose can’t be any different, but she puts on a good act. I don’t want to start doubting their loyalty, but…”

  “Then don’t,” Nomad said. “The man just lost his girlfriend, Highbrow. Ten Dark Angels survived the battle. There used to be thirty of them, and they gave their lives defending this camp.”

  “I keep thinking all we have to do is hold on until my dad and the Army arrives, and I know they will. Even Cadence is confident they’re coming. When my dad gets here, I want him to be proud of what I’ve accomplished. What we’ve accomplished. Maybe I should have let Pallaton take me and not fought back. I’m the one responsible for the lives of everyone here. I let them down today.”

  “Son, you need to stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders,” Nomad said. “This isn’t just about you; we’re in this together. Say what you will about Pallaton, but if he’d come in here with Black Hawks, there wouldn’t be anyone left alive.”

  “And if I hadn’t kicked out Cadence? Would we have been better off? Say what you will, Nomad, but I made a big mistake. I shouldn’t have sent her away. I know I should move the camp, but how can I when most of the children are sick or acting strange?”

  Nomad reached into his coat pocket. He pulled out a stack of folded paper. “Betsy wanted me to give these to you. The little kids drawing the same thing over and over, and it’s got my wife spooked.” He tossed the stack over to Highbrow. “Take a look and tell me what you see.”

  Highbrow set aside the bottle, unfolded the paper and looked through dozens of children’s drawings. They looked like nuclear missiles. Some had stars and stripes, some polka dots, and a few had weird shapes and symbols, shaped more like columns than nukes.

  “Bombs? I can’t think of any place around here where they have bombs. The Air Force fields are overrun with zombies, and without fighter pilots we can’t get any planes off the ground.”

  “I thought it looked more like one of those big stones at Stonehenge. But if you say it’s a bomb, maybe it is. Only place ’round here with bombs is NORAD. Cadence is a smart girl. If that’s where she’s relocated, she does have bombs at her disposal. You said Picasso can contact survivors around the globe, and you need satellites to do that. If I was her, it’s where I would have gone. Of course, that means NORAD didn’t survive the Scourge, and the doors had to be wide open for them to get in.”

  Highbrow put aside the drawings. “The equipment went on the blink a few days ago, around the same time Cadence left Chief Chayton’s camp and found a new home. Tandor said something is causing interference with our gear and it’s close by. NORAD isn’t far from here. It won’t take Tandor long to get there even in this storm, or to figure out what’s blocking our signals.”

  “Why are you keeping Star here?” asked Nomad. “Why didn’t you let her go?”

  “For protection. She’s the fastest and strongest fighter in camp. If I had another dozen Stars, we could hold the fort a while longer. But I don’t know if she’s a Maker, and to tell the truth, I’m not that desperate to infect others. Not yet.”

  “Yes, you are. You need a volunteer, so I’m volunteering. Let’s get over to Rose and at least ask her about it. Star isn’t going to stay here forever, not when she’s dying to go see Thor. If we’re staying, we need stronger fighters.”

  Highbrow grabbed his gun and headed for the door as Odin appeared, dragging in two cots and blankets. “Forget that for now, private. You’re driving us to the hospital. I need to talk to Doctor Rose.”

  Once in the Jeep, Odin started singing Jingle Bells. He was off key, but no one cared. Nomad joined in with an impressive singing voice. Christmas was coming, thought Highbrow, whether he was ready or not. He joined the singing.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Nine

  The dream weighed heavy in Cadence’s mind. She walked through a graveyard on an ancient path. The trail stretched through a meadow lined with rock walls and yellow flowers. The passage of time had eroded the names etched on the tombstones. A tall, slender monolith carved from black stone stood prominent. It rose more than twenty-feet, with carvings of Celtic symbols adorning it. Rings of smaller white stones surrounded it, and the bodies of dead rodents lay within the circle. At its base sat numerous human skulls in perfect rows.

  The scene changed, and Cadence found herself in a cavern with a crystal coffin. A body i
nside it held a spear. She approached it and stared at the spear. She had seen it somewhere before and felt it meant something to her. When she placed her hand on the coffin it started vibrating and a strange humming filled her ears.

  Cadence heard a loud buzzing. The sound woke her, and she looked at her bedside table. The digital message read 3:00 a.m. The witching hour, she thought. She had experienced the same dream at the same time for the past three nights; each time, she had awoken feeling scared and alone. A clap of her hands, and the lights turned on.

  She rubbed her face. Her cheeks were cold, and she could smell the odor of earth on her skin. A journal belonging to the room’s prior tenant fell from her lap as she stood up. She must have dozed off while reading, however she couldn’t remember much. A hot shower helped revive Cadence’s spirits. She dried off and got dressed. No one kept normal hours anymore, and she was relieved to find some friends having an early breakfast at the bunker’s western-themed restaurant. Music hummed from an old-fashioned jukebox.

  Lotus and Smack were in the kitchen, while Blaze and Phoenix sat at the counter sipping their coffee. Cadence slid into a booth and scanned a menu. Lotus was a good cook and responsible for rebuilding and maintaining the kitchen. Smack enjoyed being the waitress and hung out at the restaurant because it felt familiar to her.

  Phoenix raised her coffee to welcome Cadence, and Cadence returned the nod. Coffee would do her nerves good and warm the coldness gnawing at her stomach.

  Her eyes a little clearer now, Cadence noticed the journal on the seat beside her, sprinkled with blood. She didn’t remember bringing the journal of Captain Richard Mallory with her. Cadence had found him in her room, lying on the floor with a revolver and the journal next to him. It gave a harrowing account of the months leading up to his death. The writing was archaic, too formal even for the military, and the penmanship was flowery, with big loops and fancy letters. She only read a few pages each night, but his writing was so powerful she felt she knew him.

 

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