Run (Book 2): The Crossing

by Rich Restucci

  Ravi handed Bourne a piece of paper. “I took the liberty of drawing you a map while we were eating. Perhaps Brenda could check it for errors. Thank you.”

  “Thank you.”

  Ravi nodded as the colonel unfolded the paper, the incursion team surrounding him in a semi-circle.

  “Pretty much as I remember it,” Brenda told them, “but what’s this block in corridor B by the elevators?”

  “That is a soda machine.”

  “I could use a Dew.” Seyfert looked around; everyone was staring at him. “A Mountain Dew? Nectar of the Gods.”

  “After we secure the first floor,” Bourne scolded. “Three minutes to study the map gentlemen, then go.”

  The colonel handed Androwski the map, and three minutes later the recon team was passing through chocked open glass doors, Seyfert still chewing a brownie from his MRE. “Eating while on recon, squid?” Seyfert just looked at the colonel and swallowed. Other than the few leaves that were stacked against the front desk, and the small bird’s nest in a darkened lighting fixture, the place was in good shape. No signs of anything anywhere. Androwski grabbed a red Sharpie marker from the attendant’s empty desk and handed it to Wilcox, who put it in his tac-webbing.

  The lieutenant made hand signals as he moved forward, shining his light in each room even though most of the lights were on. Private Wilcox closed each door as each room was checked, and marked the front with a large red X. Nine offices were cleared this way, and then the team came upon another desk next to a heavy blue door at the end of a corridor. The other office doors all had small oblong windows, but this one was solid.

  They had passed the soda machine ten feet before; Keleher walked back and put his hand on it. He nodded in the affirmative, and pointed to one of the press bars on the machine. “Mountain fucking Dew,” he stage whispered.

  Androwski tried the handle on the door. It was locked.

  “Wanderer, this is Recon, we’re at a blue door at the end of one of the corridors by the soda machine. There’s a desk here, but the door is locked, over.”

  “Roger that, Recon, stand by. Recon, intel indicates there is a button under the desk that will open the door.”

  “Roger that, attempting now.”

  “Recon? Intel also says thank you.”

  Androwski used hand signals to tell Seyfert and Keleher to cover the door and Wilcox to cover the rear. He moved behind the desk and looked under. He found two buttons, one red, one green, and a holster for a weapon attached to the underside of the desk. The weapon would have been within easy reach of whoever sat at the desk. The holster was empty.

  “Wanderer, there are two buttons, repeat two buttons, one red, one green, over.”

  Fifteen seconds of silence followed Androwski’s last transmission, and he was about to call again, when the colonel came back on, “Recon?”

  “Five by five.”

  “Pick one, out.”

  Androwski looked at Seyfert, who shook his head. “He didn’t tell me to pick one.”

  The chief frowned, “Fuck me,” and he hit the green button. There was a click, and all weapons went up. Androwski moved from behind the desk and put his hand on the door handle. He faced his team, and silently counted down: “Three, two, one,” and he pulled the door wide. Another room, this one with a metal detection system that would rival an airport check-in, waited for them. There was a walk-through detector that would alert the folks in the room to any threats, and a conveyer x-ray machine to look into containers.

  An elevator door was at the far end of the short room, and Androwski relayed this information to the colonel.

  “Good work, Recon. The rest of Wanderer is en-route to your position. Sodas are on me.”

  41

  The entire group (with the exception of Stark and Keleher, who had remained in the LAV) showed up six minutes later. The elevator door needed a key card that nobody had, but the SEALs pried the steel panels open and they looked down the shaft. There was a square of light coming from the bottom. Seyfert took a pull from his Mountain Dew and put the plastic bottle on the x-ray table. He checked his gear, then swung in on a ladder in the shaft.

  Dallas looked down the shaft. “Another damn climb? How come nobody never puts stuff on one floor no more?”

  Seyfert did his climb and his recon, and soon the group was filing through an open elevator three stories down. The light had been coming through the top hatch of the elevator. A long cinder block hallway, painted in utility gray with steel doors along the sides, greeted them. “This is where we worked,” Brenda told everyone. Another set of stainless steel elevator doors shined past all the other entries.

  They moved as a group through the corridor and wound up at the second room on the left, which was a computer lab. Stenner and Wilcox were sent back up to tell Stark what was happening as communications were impossible via radio through the structure.

  The SEALs and Bourne had found a security room and were looking through camera feeds. The scientists were looking over equipment and attaching the hard drives to a computer system. Rick, Dallas, and Anna were talking amongst themselves about the journey. Phil had found a magazine and was thumbing through it, when the colonel came out of the security room and addressed Brenda.

  “Ms. Poole, what’s on the level below us?”

  “I don’t know for sure, we were never allowed down the elevator, but I heard talk that there are huge servers down there with vast amounts of storage capacity.”

  “Would you come with me please?”

  They filed into the security room, curiosity dragging the others with them.

  Bourne pointed at one of the security monitors. “Who is that?”

  A bearded man in jeans and a green T-shirt was sitting in a wheeled chair throwing a tennis ball against the floor and wall, and catching it on the return flight. The monitor had a digital code on it, and SVR_ RM_1_SUB_LVL_2 in bold white letters across the bottom of the screen.

  “I don’t know, I’ve never seen that man before.”

  “How about this man?”

  A second man, duct taped into a second wheeled chair, was moving feebly. There was so much tape on his arms, legs, and chest his clothing looked gray. The chair was tied to a desk with a short length of cord and the man had layer upon layer of tape over his mouth.

  Phil, his magazine folded under his arm, pointed to the screen. “That guy’s dead.”

  “So it would seem. Brenda, Ravi, do you know him?”

  “I do not.”

  Brenda shook her head no.

  The man with the tennis ball leaned over and spoke to his roommate, then bounced the ball off his dead head and pointed to a monitor. The live man wheeled his chair over to a bank of computer screens and began punching keys.

  The colonel folded his arms. “Let’s go meet him then.”

  Dallas and Phil helped the two SEALS grab yet another ladder in yet another elevator shaft, and the men climbed down. They watched them quietly climb through the emergency hatch and into the open steel box. These doors had been wedged open as well. A few minutes went by as the duo stared down the shaft. “Least I dint haf’ ta climb down this ‘un.”

  Phil glanced at Dallas sideways and then looked back down the shaft. “Oh man, I am so sorry about this,” he said, and used a spinning back kick to push the Texan into space. Dallas didn’t even have time to pinwheel his arms, and there was no scream, as he tumbled two stories and crashed into the steel roof of the elevator. Phil shook his head and made a sorry face. “Dude, that just wasn’t fair.” Dallas was not moving. Phil pulled a small pistol from a back holster and a suppressor from an ankle brace, then closed the doors and moved toward the security room as he screwed the suppressor onto the weapon.

  42

  Seyfert nodded as Androwski brought his dead holographic sight to his eye and leveled his MP5SD3 at the server room door. The open sight picture granted a full view, as the battery-powered optics had failed along with Seyfert’s some weeks before. Seyfert he
ld up three fingers, and it was Andy’s turn to nod.

  The SEAL from New Jersey put his hand on the door handle and counted silently to three. He shoved the door open and they stepped through, weapons at the ready. It was relatively loud in the room, as the blade servers in multiple racks and chilling towers that cooled them were humming away. The man in the chair had his back to the door with his feet up on a parts-and-wire ridden desk, and hadn’t heard the SEALs come in. His compatriot was facing the newcomers, however, and became extremely agitated at their entrance.

  “Whasamatter Tim,” the bearded fellow half-yelled. “I told you, we can watch the last part of The Holy Grail when the level four data is done compiling. Don’t get your panties in a bunch, buddy!”

  Seyfert moved to the left side and looked down the rows of server racks. Androwski covered him. “Clear,” he mouthed.

  Androwski nodded and pointed his weapon at the man, but kept his finger on his trigger guard. “Sir!”

  The man whipped around and stood up, eyes wide and breathing fast. He blinked hard a few times, turned his head to the dead man and said something.

  “I didn’t catch that, sir,” Androwski said. “Would you please repeat that as you put your hands on your head?”

  The man swallowed hard putting his hands on his head. “I asked Tim if he sees you too. He says yes.”

  Seyfert stepped up next to the man and frisked him. “He’s clean.”

  “Who are you guys?”

  “We’re US Navy. We’ve brought some scientists here to help work on a possible cure for the plague.”

  “Why the hell would you bring them here?”

  “You have the computers and some data they need to work, and this facility is secure. Where is everyone else?”

  “The important folks got airlifted out when the Army pulled out of Boston. The big boys realized that this place wasn’t as impregnable as some others, and they wanted to take the smart people to someplace they could control them. At least that’s what I think. Most of the nerds were eager to get on the helicopters, but I knew better. Probably staggering around out there someplace right now or under the jackboots of The Man.”

  “You said most, where are the others?”

  “One level down. You can see them on the monitor there if you’ll let me…” he let the question hang but pointed toward a monitor.

  “Go ahead, but do it slowly.”

  He looked at the zombie, who was still struggling. “I know, right? As if I would do anything to get shot.” The man pressed a soft-button on his monitor screen, and the camera feed switched from another server room to a waiting area, then a lab, then to a wide open space. “That’s them.”

  They were all dead. Savaged and covered in dried blood, the inhabitants of the large room milled about, stumbling by the camera with vacant stares and red eyes.

  “They needed someone to maintain the servers up here while they stayed safe down there. You see there’s no way down there other than the elevator, and it’s stuck. Won’t move now that it’s down there, so you would have to climb, and who’s crazy enough to do that? I mean other than us, right Tim?”

  “What happened to them?”

  “They died. Well, one of ‘em died, and then ate the others. Actually, I guess she only kind of died, because she was up again in a couple minutes. She was fast though, not slow like them. She attacked some others, then they turned and did the same. It was absolute bedlam, people in total panic, running every which way. Bullets from the security guys flying into both the living and the dead. The last guy to go was hiding in that bathroom for a couple days before they wandered in there and got him.” He looked at the zombie again. “At least we think that they got him, right buddy? Nobody came out again, the door opens in. Anyway, it took almost ten days for the fast chick, I dunno her name, to starve to death, and now she’s not so fast anymore. I’m Bob by the way.” He stuck his hand out.

  Androwski shouldered his weapon and shook Bob’s hand. “Call me Androwski, that’s Seyfert.” Seyfert nodded.

  “What is that place?” Androwski asked, pointing to the monitor.

  “Bunker. Supposed to hold one hundred people for twenty years or something. Nuke bunker I think.” He turned to the dead man and chuckled, “Bet they never thought of the living dead getting them from the inside, huh Tim?”

  “Neither did NORAD. How did Tim die?”

  “He’s right here, dude… Me and Tim were checking the power couplings on the chilling towers and he got a tad too close. He got zapped and kicked it. Electricity must have done something to him, because he didn’t turn for hours, and I was able to…restrain him before he attempted to snack on me.”

  “We need to sanitize him, I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, um, he’s in the room Mr. Androwski, you can talk to him. What does sanitize mean?”

  Seyfert had had enough. “It means shoot him in the fucking head so he doesn’t infect us.” The SEAL raised his weapon and pointed it at Tim’s head.

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Kill it? Why? It’s already dead, your friend is gone.”

  “Yeah, I know, I’m not a complete crazy person. But if you shoot that weapon in here the Halon system might trigger and we’re all dead in four minutes. And you can’t kill him if he’s already dead anyway. Duh.” Bob lowered his eyes. “I thought about whacking him with a hammer, but then I wouldn’t have had anyone to talk to. I’ve got food and shelter and there’s a shitload of guns down in the bunker, but I can’t get them.”

  Seyfert perked up. “Guns?”

  “Yeah, like a vault full or something. The security guy’s…” Bob swiveled in his chair and studied the monitor, he touched the screen indicating a dead man in a blue uniform, “right there! He has the keys.” Bob touched the screen to indicate which man had the keys.

  43

  Colonel Bourne had a gray phone receiver in his hand and was looking at a printed sheet of numbers at the base of the camera monitors when Phil sauntered in. The colonel casually glanced at the man as he moved toward the small group. “Where’s Dallas?”

  Phil stopped with his hands behind his back. “Shit-kicker heaven.” He drew the suppressed Walther PPK and shot the soldier three times center-mass. Bourne collapsed against the monitor table and fell to the floor, clutching his chest. Rick and Anna went for their weapons, but Phil beat them to the draw. “Don’t. Drop them and kick them away, hands on your heads.” They did as they were told.

  Phil turned to Bourne who was gurgling and trying to pull his own weapon. “Traitor,” he said, and shot the dying man once more in the forehead. He raised the gun and pointed it at the shocked scientists. “Same gun James Bond uses.”

  Brenda had the back of her hand to her mouth, Linda was sobbing. “Phil, what have you done?” demanded Ravi.

  “My duty. Now it’s time for you to do yours.” Phil stepped over Bourne’s lifeless body and grabbed the dangling receiver with his left hand. He briefly depressed the phone hook with the tip of his suppressor, and then began dialing, “Sir, it’s Lynch. Yes, sir, the colonel has been sanctioned. Three of use, maybe one more that was already here. Yes, sir, two SEALs on the level below me, and four targets above with the LAV, plus two civvie hitters. Roger that, sir, I’ll be waiting.”

  “Where’s Dallas, you son of a bitch?”

  “Dead. I’m sorry about that, I liked him. He was one of those dangerous-type personalities though, and big. Damn that man was big. Hopefully when your SEAL buddies stick their heads up through the elevator hatch, he’ll bite them off.”

  Anna was quietly seething. “You bastard! We saved you. Dallas saved you, and…”

  “Save it, girl-scout, you didn’t do shit. I could have left MIT at any time. My mission was to keep an eye on her,” he nodded toward Brenda, “and get her here when the time came. Don’t for one second think that I needed you. I know what your little group is all about, and I know what your commander was going to do with the…” Phil paused as he cau
ght a glimpse of something in the monitors, “Oh shit.” The monitor switched to a different picture automatically, and he pressed the CAMERA button three times until he got back to the view of the parking lot in front of the main structure. The LAV was backing up to the building as a massive swarm of undead beat at the chain-link gates. The ones in the front were sizzling and popping against the electricity as it flowed through the fence and into them, the ones in the back pushing against their dead comrades. The fence was buckling fast. Wilcox and Stenner were running into the facility at top speed.

  Phil raised his pistol. “Don’t move.” He picked up the phone and dialed again, “This is Lynch. Sir, the compound is about to have a shitload of company. Yes, sir. I can’t tell, but there are more than a few hundred. Yes, sir. Roger that, Viper inbound. ETA? Copy. Thank you, sir.” He hung the phone up and wiped his sleeve across his brow. “Change of plans. You five come with me, I’m going to get you to a more secure location down a couple of levels. Help is on the way. Hands on your heads and move back to the computer lab, we’re going to get some equipment and go down a level until the cavalry arrives. Oh, and I’m one of the good guys.”

  “What about the men up top?” demanded Rick.

  “Bad day for them, now move.” Phil gestured with his pistol to get them going, and the five put their hands on their heads and moved out the door. Phil picked up Rick’s M4, following. As he walked out the door, a giant fist impacted the side of his head and he went flying two meters down the corridor, his weapons clattering to the floor.

  “I hate elevator shafts, you sumbitch! Uh, sorry ladies, m’ language suffers some when I get angry.”

  Anna threw herself around Dallas and hugged him, crying, as Rick picked up the M4 and held it on Phil. Anna backed up a step, then launched a jab at Dallas’s shoulder, “Don’t die again!”

  “Ow! I jus’ fell down a damn elevator shaft, woman!” Dallas spit blood. “See?”