“We have the plans,” Miller said. “They don’t, so far as we know.”
“Yeah, it’s the best of our bad options.” Rat crossed her arms defiantly. “The bikers may take one look and come to the same conclusion we did about going down there. They might write us off and choose to let it be.”
“Calling it a bad idea was dead right,” Miller said. “We’ve got a lot of weapons in this crate. So how about we don’t try that move until there is no chance of survival up here in the warehouse, not one second before. If we can put up a fight, we do it.”
“I say take the cellar, but I’m with you either way,” Scratch said.
Miller looked around at the faces of her friends. She hoped their trust was well-placed. At that moment, she wasn’t so sure. “Rolf, you want to weigh in on this?”
Rolf stopped chewing. He listened to the wall. “Walter and I follow you, Chosen One, but he says to tell you that he’s not afraid of a few zombies.”
“Let’s get into the cellar and lock it, Penny,” said Sheppard. His voice was frail but his intentions clear. “Strategically it’s probably the better move. We just can’t stay here any longer.”
“Strategically, right now all we have to deal with are the living,” Miller said, “Adding the undead to the mix doesn’t… Ah, shit.”
Most of the lights in the truck went out all at once. Only a few switches remained lit. They sat quietly in the dark.
“Okay, Scratch. We’re now officially done with this piece of shit. Everyone get the hell out. Make for the cellar doors.”
“I think the hatch is released with that switch near your head, Penny,” said Brandon. He was pointing to a large green and red electric switch mounted next to the door. It was one of the few items in the aft section that still had electricity. Miller pushed that, and the wheel spun and the hatch lowered itself down, thus immediately becoming a staircase. They were free.
Miller stuck her head out of the open hatch. Someone shot at her through the broken window so she ducked back inside again. She studied the monitors. The warehouse door rattled, and someone started kicking at it. Miller gathered her thoughts, weighed her shitty choices and made an executive decision.
“Time’s up. Let’s go.”
Miller picked up one of the M-4s. They were all loaded when they had arrived at the warehouse, so she didn’t bother to check it, except to make sure that a round was chambered. She poked her head out of the side hatch. One of the bikers outside the window saw her and fired. The round broke some of the remaining glass and pinged off the hull of the aft section, right next to Miller’s head. Miller took up a defensive position and fired a three-round burst at the biker. One or more of the shots clipped him, and he went down. Two others pulled back.
“Come on, I’ll cover you,” said Miller. She waved Brandon and Sheppard out of the truck. “Move your asses, everybody head for the cellar doors.”
Sheppard made his way down the stairs as quickly as he could. About halfway down he looked out the window at the steadily brightening morning. “Penny? Look at this. I don’t believe it.”
They stared outside. Their enemies had doubled in size. Patrol cars now swarmed the property, lights flashing red and white and blue. The state police poured out of the cars with weapons drawn. They swept the area and took positions surrounding the building. They did not aim at the bikers, but at the garage. Worst of all, the bikers ignored them entirely.
“Penny, are you seeing this?” Rat was crouched low on the cement floor, shading her eyes against the glare.
“Fuck a duck,” said Miller. “They’re working together for some reason.”
“Why on earth would they?”
Miller said, “Someone big is offering one hell of a lot of money. The Army, maybe, or the government that wants us to shut up and go away.”
“Let’s do this thing,” Rat said to Miller.
“Scratch, bring the bolt cutters. Rat, you take point. Let’s get everyone else the hell out of here. Down below you can argue as much as you want, assuming we’re still breathing.”
They took their positions.
Miller called, “Go, go!”
Rat raced for the cellar doors, staying as low as she could, her combat boots slapping the cold floor. Miller went down the hatchway stairs and out of the Land Shark, followed closely by Rolf and Dudley, then Brandon and a limping Sheppard.
They heard a squawking sound from outside. A loud voice came over a speaker system. “Attention in the warehouse. This is the Idaho State Police. You are surrounded. You have one chance to get out of this situation alive. Throw down your weapons and come out now.”
Rat stood near the padlocked doors, with her weapon at the ready. She cupped her hand and called out. “Penny, I’m thinking the damn cellar is looking pretty good right about now.”
Miller jogged over in the direction of the cellar doors. “Show me.”
Rat led Miller to the cellar doors, which were made of metal and padlocked and chained. Rolf, Dudley and a weary Sheppard were already waiting. Brandon was still looking around on the tool rack. Scratch arrived and began to cut the chain. Brandon arrived seconds later with a couple of beat up flashlights.
Reluctantly, Miller went to a knee. “Okay, this is it then.”
“Looks that way,” Sheppard said. “So what are your orders?”
“I only see two options,” Miller said. “If we don’t find any zombies, we beat feet for the exit and try to slip away without a fight. If we do find zombies, we flush them out, kill most of them and try to guide the rest to our rear. We’ll let the cops and bikers deal with them instead of us.”
Sheppard nodded. “Make them our cover, like you did back at Crystal Palace. That way, the bad guys will think we’re already dead.”
“Or so we hope.”
The police speaker system started up again. “You have ten seconds to comply.”
“Man, what I wouldn’t give for a shot of zombie juice right now,” said Miller, mostly to herself. Superhuman strength sure would have come in handy. Scratch had finished cutting the chains. He stood back. Miller waved everyone away from the entrance. She looked over at Rat. “Open it up.”
Rat lowered her weapon and shot the lock off. It took her a moment to get the ruined mess off the hasp. Someone outside fired nervously in response, then a few of the others. The man with the bullhorn ordered everyone to cease fire and it got quiet again. An assault was definitely coming. Rat threw the cellar doors open, revealing a short staircase that led down into absolute darkness.
“Rolf and Dudley first, Scratch and me, then Karl and Brandon, and Rat closes up behind us. Everyone got that?”
“Got it.”
Rolf and the dog headed out. Miller went next, carrying her M-4. The others quickly followed as instructed. When Rat pulled the doors closed behind them the world down below went pitch black, except for a few emergency lights that seemed way too far away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
They waited at the bottom of the cellar stairs while Rat chained the doors closed. She made enough noise to wake the dead—or to attract the attention of the living, which was just as big a concern at the moment. Brandon held the flashlight on her. When she was done, she came forward into the weak beam of light.
“Okay, done. Penny, here’s what I was thinking…”
Miller’s mind was three moves ahead. “Rolf, you and Dudley are on point. Let’s move out.” They all began walking into the nearly pitch black cellar. That is, all but Rat, who remained behind. Miller didn’t notice at first.
“You know something Penny? I don’t say this very often, but you’re wrong.”
Miller stopped dead in her tracks. She went over to Brandon and snatched the flashlight out of his hand, and shined it directly on Rat’s face. “You want to say that again, Francine?”
Rat took two steps forward, bringing her face to face, nose to nose. The flashlight pointed up at their features, giving them an eerie, ghost-stories-around-the-camp
fire kind of look. “I said you’re wrong.”
Miller considered her options. She didn’t have time for a mutiny. But she was also tired and hungry and she wanted to be anywhere but in a deep dark pit. “What’s your problem, exactly?”
“Do you remember what I told you about how I got the handle ‘Rat,’ Penny?”
“If I ever knew, I forgot. I just figured it’s because your name is Hanratty.” Miller was too exhausted to remember that far back. Months ago now seemed like decades.
“It’s because I made my reputation as a tunnel rat, clearing out sniper holes and terrorist caves in shitholes like Afghanistan and Iraq. Now, I didn’t say anything back at the cannibal caves because Brandon and Rolf knew the terrain way better than I did. But now that we’re in unknown territory, I’m speaking up. This is where you’ll need me and my experience.”
“We’ll have to discuss this later.” Miller never took her eyes off Rat’s. “I want Dudley up front, and that means Rolf goes with him. Those are my orders, and that’s the end of it.”
“Why?” demanded Rat, exasperated. She moved back, away from Miller’s face, and gestured widely in the light beam. “Just because the dog can smell decomp? Well guess what, Penny. We can all smell it. That dog hasn’t gone up against the Taliban in tunnels that would make the lair of the huskarls look like Yankee Stadium. No offence to Brandon, Rolf, or the damn dog, but if you follow them just because they’ve been inside caves more recently than me, they’re going to get us all killed. And if they do, it will be your fault.”
“We don’t have time for this,” she said, mostly to herself. Then something occurred to her. “Hey, what the fuck is up your ass anyway, Rat? Have I been letting you down all this time or what?”
The others watched with growing anxiety. Rat stepped closer again. She lowered her voice. “Look, Penny, you’re in command. I accepted that long ago. But right now you’re not using your assets very well.”
Before Miller could answer, they all heard footsteps in the warehouse, walking right above their heads. The bikers and the cops had moved in to search the building. Miller dropped her voice to a whisper.
“Rat, I hear you and your objection is duly noted.” Miller pointed the beam of light to her right. “Rolf, you’re on point. Anyone else have any problems to discuss? No? Good. Now let’s clear the road.”
No one argued.
“Let’s move out.”
“Follow me.” Rolf snapped his fingers and Dudley ran ahead into the gloom, leading them ever deeper into the underground garage. Rolf followed. He stepped as carefully as a man crossing a minefield. Miller stayed close behind, weapon at the ready. She turned and whispered back. “Rat, if you’re done pouting, I need you to keep us from being ambushed from behind. Scratch, you guard Brandon and Karl. Stay close, and keep Rolf and me in your flashlight beam. Got it?”
Rat moved into position, but Scratch did not answer. Miller could no longer read his face, but she could tell he wasn’t happy about being left behind.
Dudley was a courageous animal. He ran off into the shadows sniffing and occasionally peeing on things, always alert but seemingly without a care in the world beyond doing his job.
Miller wiped her face on her sleeve. She carried the M-4 high and ready for action. She followed Rolf through the gloom, but let her head swivel back and forth, up and down too, the whole way, always alert for any danger. Miller realized she’d never had a detailed conversation with Rolf about the dog, what Dudley could and could not do. Did he smell anything dead maybe a quarter mile off, or only if he was closer? Could his nose be fooled by strong smells like gasoline and motor oil, rubber tires and rusty parts? If so, they were mightily screwed.
They were perhaps five yards ahead of Scratch and the others when Miller heard someone behind them trying the cellar doors again. She caught the faint sound of chains rattling upstairs, then the distant mumble of one man’s voice. Someone started pounding on the doors. Then they heard a chain saw.
That pretty much settled things.
Going back was now absolutely out of the question, but going forward was pretty damn iffy, as well.
Dudley trotted away and Rolf vanished. Miller paused and squatted down. She couldn’t see anything ahead but shadow. Rolf was somewhere out there in the darkness. It had gone quiet, except for the racket far behind them. She could no longer hear the dog moving, or anyone else for that matter. She looked back over her shoulder and saw the others had stopped and dropped, following her example. Time slowed down and the saw noise stopped. It was still, except for her own breathing. No one moved.
The cellar had gone dead quiet.
Miller whispered, “Rolf? Are you still up there?”
That’s when Dudley began to growl.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Miller gripped her M-4. Her hands were perspiring. It was too dark to get a clean shot on anything specific, and with Rolf and Dudley just ahead, she couldn’t open up like she wanted to and sweep the whole corridor. If there were any zombies down here, and there was a damned good chance of that, they’d clearly have the advantage, especially when fighting in the near dark. Miller knew from personal experience the undead could find them by hearing or smell, even in a pitch-black room. The odds were against her.
“Rolf!”
There was absolutely no response.
Dudley barked again. Miller could hear paws splashing through puddles of rainwater that had leaked through the ground to trickle down the corridor. The noises came closer, the claws struck cement and finally Dudley appeared. Miller reached out to grab his collar but the dog ran right past her, racing back toward the others. Had he panicked and left his master behind? Miller took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She raised her weapon and aimed at the shadows.
“Rolf! Report!”
“What’s going on, Penny?” called Rat.
“I’ve lost Rolf.”
“We’re coming for you,” said Scratch. “They’re going to be on our asses any moment.”
“Scratch, stay right where you are.” Miller squinted ahead into the gloom, and called out again, this time not even trying to be quiet. “Rolf! Where the hell are you?”
“Penny,” Rat and Scratch and Sheppard and Brandon said, almost simultaneously, “be careful.”
Miller took a few cautious steps forward. Her foot found one of the puddles, sank a couple of inches, and cold rain water began to seep into her boot. But at the moment, wet feet were the least of her problems. At least she could still feel her own toes.
“Rolf!”
Miller waited. She heard nothing but water drops striking the puddles near her feet. She took another step forward, then another. The latent part of her that could still sense the presence of zombies began to kick into overdrive. There was a group mind at work nearby, though she could not tell how many of the creatures were involved. There was something odd about them, the way they waited and observed so patiently.
It had to be the albinos again. These zombies were different, not like the others she’d fought above ground. They hid down here even though they were starving for food. She could feel them. But until Rolf was found, every shot represented a high risk. She could hit him instead of the enemy. She’d have to be patient until she knew Rolf was either dead or had already been bitten. Until then, she’d just have to keep moving forward.
Miller took few more steps, and then her zombie sense began to blur. It was replaced with a very healthy sense of paranoia. All the hairs on her body began to quiver. Adrenaline made her chest tighten and her own pulse throbbed in her ear. Something was very wrong.
“Rolf!”
“Okay, Penny,” called Rat from several yards back. “We’ve all discussed it, and we’re making an executive decision. We’ve only got one move left. If you don’t fall back, we’re coming ahead in force.”
“Hold up there, folks.” She scanned the area with the almost non-existent beam of her flashlight. The damned thing would be dead in a moment. With the las
t bit of light, she saw a face. Rolf grabbed her and pulled her aside.
“Chosen One, it is me,” Rolf whispered.
“Where the hell have you been?” Miller whispered.
“Right here,” Rolf said.
Miller called out to the others. “I’ve found him, everyone stay right where you are.”
“You must be quiet,” Rolf said. “The albinos are waiting here, the ones from down below. I have seen them moving around. The next step awaits.”
“Rolf, Sheppard is right, you got to quit chewing that bone. You really need to get a grip…”
“Do not speak. Listen very carefully. This is your next trial. You will have no choice but to see it through.”
“Rolf, I’ve been very patient with all the Chosen One nonsense, but right now we don’t have time for any more of this crap. The enemy is coming down into the cellar after us. Our people need to find a way out. We’re out of time.”
For the first time since she had met him, Rolf actually chuckled. “We have all the time in the world, and if you don’t get this one right, we’ll have the rest of eternity. If you succeed they will live.”
Miller considered knocking him upside the head with her rifle butt, but only for a moment. They needed all the help they could muster. Besides, maybe this guy, as weird and out of touch as he was, knew something about the zombies that the rest of them didn’t. Christ, he was eating one as a snack. Maybe these silly tests really were his way of helping her. Well, and maybe she was grasping at straws, too, but cooperating still seemed her best option. Miller swallowed dryly. She wished she had a bottle of water and two minutes to squat and pee. She studied the small man in the shadowy dark.
“Okay, Rolf, what do I have to do?”
“The albinos are near. You must find a way to defeat them.”
“No offense, but I kind of figured out that much all on my own. Is there something else, something more useful?”
“They have a weakness. You must discover it for yourself.”
“Or you could just tell me,” she offered. “There’s nothing wrong with trying a shortcut at a time like this.”
The Hungry 5: All Hell Breaks Loose (The Sheriff Penny Miller Series) Page 23