by JE Gurley
“See if you can reach the roof facing the chopper. Take Mike with you.”
He watched the two disappear deeper into the building, hoping they wouldn’t be shot. He handed Amanda his pistol and watched her turn it slowly in her hands while staring at the Gray Man. To Vince’s relief, she shoved it down the front of her jeans. To her and Dennis he said, “Both of you stay behind me.”
The Gray Man lifted the cuff of his jeans and extracted a knife with a seven-inch blade. He handed it to Vince. “You might need this.”
Vince tested the knife’s balance and found it superb, and designed for throwing. “Thanks.”
They traversed the length of the resort to avoid detection, emerging on the building’s south side overlooking the football stadium. Using the building and the trees for cover, they slowly reached the front of the resort. The chopper sat at the edge of the parking lot with the guard pacing between the parking lot and the building, leaving the desert side unobserved. Vince saw a shadow rise from the ground on the far side of the chopper, crawl underneath, and grab the guard’s legs as he passed by. There was no sound, but the guard lay unmoving beside the chopper as the shadow detached and disappeared back into the desert.
“I told you he was good,” the Gray Man said.
A few minutes later, a tall, dark-haired man appeared and handed the Gray Man the guard’s M16. He offered it to Dennis, who looked at it with horror. “I can’t use this,” he protested.
Amanda took it, fished in her pants for the pistol, and handed it to Vince. “I can shoot,” she said.
One down, three to go.
Vince couldn’t fly the Black Hawk but the pilot could. “We need to disable the chopper.”
Ahiga smiled grimly. A few seconds later, the Black Hawk burst into flames. “I cut the fuel lines and left a cigarette burning for a timer,” he said.
The fire quickly spread to the fuel tank. The chopper exploded, lighting up the grounds and the night sky. The guard opened the door and peered out; then raced back inside. Flames engulfed the entire helicopter, igniting the ammunition. Rapid popping sounds, accompanied by the occasional tracer, rent the night. When rounds started pinging off the side of the building, they all took cover.
Minutes later, Major Corzine, the pilot and the remaining guard stepped outside. Corzine watched the flames for a moment and then with a wave of his hand, all three scattered into the landscaping. A shot rang out from the roof. Immediately, automatic weapons fire raked the rooftop. Vince heard a cry. The firing ceased for a few seconds and then resumed, presumably Mike taking Roy’s place. Vince used the confusion to sneak away from the others toward Corzine’s last position. He would let the others deal with the guard and pilot. Once Corzine was dead, his obligation to the Gray Man would be over. Then he would be free to kill him.
He turned at a slight sound behind him – Amanda.
“I thought you might need some help,” she whispered.
He appreciated her offer, but he didn’t have time to watch over her. “You might be safer back there,” he suggested.
“Maybe, but he wouldn’t.”
The tone of her voice left no doubts as to whom she was referring or what she wanted to do to the Gray Man. Vince was curious, but he decided it was not the time to press her for details.
“Stay low.”
He crawled toward a clump of tall ornamental grass near the far edge of the parking lot. The occasional shot rang out around him, but none came from Corzine. In a longer exchange of gunfire, he heard a muffled yell and a cry for help. The voice sounded like Dennis.
“Help me. Help me.”
Vince wanted to warn him to shut up but could not give away his own position. A single gunshot accompanied Dennis’ third more emphatic cry for help. No more cries followed. A shadow moved across the parking lot, silhouetted by the flickering flames. Before he could stop her, Amanda fired a burst from her M16. The bullets struck around the figure but did not hit him. He dropped to all fours and scurried into the desert headed toward the fence. If it was Corzine, he had decided that with no escape by helicopter, he would go for the high ground to avoid the Sarin gas. Vince broke cover and raced to the fence to intercept him. He heard Amanda’s footsteps close behind him. The New Apostles had left the main gate open. Corzine raced through the gate and leaped into a ditch beside the road. Vince had no choice but to follow.
* * * *
The Gray Man noticed Vince’s absence, but had to dismiss him from his mind for the time being. One of the munies was down, a bullet to his abdomen. He left him where he lay, screaming for help at the top of his lungs like a damned fool. A few minutes later, the helicopter pilot popped up beside the fallen man and shot him again, silencing his cries. The Gray Man put two bullets into the pilot’s chest and then a third to make sure. Corzine had vanished, but the remaining guard had taken an entrenched position behind a rock wall near the restaurant, which Sooks had piously named the Cathedral. The other munie rose from the roof and fired, presenting a perfect target in the flickering light of the burning chopper. The guard almost cut him in half with a burst from his M16. His body toppled from the roof and landed in a flowerbed with a leaden thud.
He presumed the girl had gone with Vince. He felt a little safer without the thought of her putting a bullet in his back. Her anger stemmed from Atkins’ killing her male companion who had tried to protect her when he had captured them. It was a senseless act on Atkins’ part, a waste of a good munie, but he had used the man’s death as an example for the others. Her eyes had burned with hatred then and again when he had sacrificed the fat munie. He saw it again earlier tonight. She had not forgotten.
Ahiga was also gone, disappeared back into the shadows. He would have to trust that Vince would keep his part of the bargain and kill Corzine. He had to deal with the remaining guard. The flames of the helicopter were dying, throwing the parking lot back into shadow. If the guard managed to get back into the resort, it would be difficult to flush him out. There was no time. The jets would be releasing their loads of Sarin gas in just a few hours. He wanted to be well away before then.
Shots rang out from the left side of the remaining guard. Ahiga. The Gray Man used the deep shadows of the building to head for the right side of the wall. If they could get the guard in a cross fire, he couldn’t last long. He found a spot slightly higher than the wall where he could fire down on the guard. The guard used the cover of the wall well. The Gray Man’s first shot missed but drew the guard’s attention. Ahiga used the opportunity to race for the wall and leap over it, sailing through the air with outstretched arms, his hunting knife in one hand. The two collided and fell together, rolling across the ground. A shot, muffled by their bodies, ended the scuffle. Ahiga rose and stood, but fell back to the ground clasping a hole in his side. The Gray Man cursed and put two bullets into the dying guard.
Ahiga was dying, but with a stomach wound, it could take a long time. Blood soaked his shirt and streamed from between his fingers.
“Help me to my feet,” Ahiga asked.
The Gray Man stared down at him and raised his pistol. He knew he should have felt something for the Dine`. They had been companions for months, but never friends. His decision to kill Corzine and cut all ties with the base at San Diego had been a catharsis for him. His days as a Hunter were over. He wished to forget it and all it entailed. Whether Vince killed Corzine or not no longer mattered. The Major would kill him if he survived. It was time for him to find high ground and then make his way north to his stash of Blue Juice. He no longer needed Ahiga. Ahiga raised his knife in a futile gesture to save himself.
“You’ll only slow me down,” the Gray Man replied. “This is better for us both.”
Ahiga shifted his gaze to a point behind him his former boss. The Gray Man did not bother turning at the sound of the footsteps behind him. He suspected who it was – Major Corzine.
“I see Holcomb failed, Major,” he said.
“Not yet,” a female voice answered.
“They both disappeared down the road. I decided to wait.”
“Out for revenge, I see.”
She shook her head slowly, deliberately. “No, not revenge,” she said, “An ending. I can’t bring David back, but I can stop you from capturing more munies.” She spat the word at him, an accusation.
He shrugged. “I was finished anyway. My…ah…disagreement with the Major would prevent further employment. If you don’t want revenge, then let me go. There will always be more Hunters, but not with me.”
The barrel of the M16 wavered. For a split-second, two heartbeats, he thought he had convinced her, but a little of the old hardness returned to her stance.
“No, this is the price you have to pay.”
She fired. The bullet entered just above his waist on his left side and exited through his back, piercing his spleen and kidney. The pain, when it struck him, was excruciating, a fire raging through his body, followed by a strange numbness as shock set in. He fell to his knees groaning and waited for the next bullet. It didn’t come. She stood over him staring down at him, her face now strangely serene, as if all her pent up rage had been in the bullet she had fired into his body.
“I could kill you, but I won’t. I saw what you did to your friend in the wreck, what you were about to do to him.” She jerked her head toward Ahiga, took in the blood staining his side. “Maybe he’ll finish you off before the zombies come. They will you know, drawn by the flames. Maybe the gas will get you first. Or,” she kicked his pistol closer to him. “You could do it yourself.”
He laughed. All his plans, all his efforts, ended by a woman to whom he had paid no attention, just another munie. It seemed somehow appropriate. He was still laughing as she walked away. He could have lifted the pistol and shot her, except it was empty. He wondered if she knew that or if she simply did not care. He looked at his watch – three hours before the gas came. The resort might be high enough to escape the gas, but not the zombies who were sure to come at the scent of blood.
Ahiga forced himself to his feet. The knife in his hand trembled.
“Do it,” the Gray Man shouted. “I was about to do it for you.”
“It is not my time to die,” he said. He dropped the knife at the Gray Man’s feet. “Take your own life if you have the courage.”
With this, Ahiga melted into the shadows. The Gray Man dragged his body to Ahiga’s hunting knife. His legs no longer worked. His life was slowly draining from him. He was going to die, but he wouldn’t become zombie food. He placed the blade against one wrist. The metal felt much colder than he thought it should. It would be slower than a bullet to the head, but just as effective. Bleeding out, he would have a few minutes to reflect on his life, upon how he had come to this point. He held his breath and sliced. The sharp blade bit into his flesh, cold then hot. The handle was slippery as he switched hands and he clumsily sliced his other wrist. He had to do it twice. He heard a shot in the distance.
“I hope that was the Major,” he said and lay down to wait for his own personal redemption.
* * * *
Months of avoiding zombies and Hunters had taught Vince patience. He lay in the ditch and waited for Corzine to make the first move. Back at the resort, a gun battle was underway. He ignored it. He had no stake in the outcome. The Gray Man was as bad as Corzine and he didn’t know the others well enough to care that much. They would die free quickly instead of hooked up to some pump slowly draining their bodies of blood. Amanda had been with him until he had crossed the fence. He hoped she had enough sense to stay out of the fight.
Movement to his left caught his attention, but it was only a jackrabbit. Almost as if using the jackrabbit as a distraction, Corzine broke cover and ran down the side of the road. Vince fired at him but knew he missed. Corzine disappeared around a curve. He could have turned left toward the sports fields or right toward the town. He would have to reach South Mountain almost a mile to the west to get higher than the gas, as Brother Malachi’s New Apostles had done. It would be a race. Corzine didn’t have time to wait and kill his pursuer. Taking a chance, Vince took the road.
He saw Corzine almost five hundred feet ahead of him. He ran off the road into a parking lot, zigzagging between cars. Vince knew he would never catch him with his aching leg.
“Damn!”
The resort had been silent for a long time. A single shot split the silence. He cursed again and headed back to the resort. As he neared the gate, the sound of an engine forced him off the road. Headlights swept across him. He ducked behind a large agave plant. It was a landscape truck with branches and garbage cans in back. It stopped at the gate. Amanda stepped out.
“If you want a ride, you’d better hurry.”
Vince smiled and walked to the truck. “You made it,” he said. “What about the others?”
“No one else.”
He remembered the single shot. “The Gray Man?” he asked.
“I left him for the zombies,” she said.
He nodded. There was no need for further details. She had not killed him, but had crippled him. She might never learn what the bad blood was between them, but added Amanda to his list of people not to cross.
“Where to?” he asked.
Vince remembered the Gray Man’s story of a mole in Biosphere2. They would be in danger soon, if not already. “South.”
She climbed back in the driver’s seat. “I’ll drive.”
Vince looked at her.
She smiled. “What? We’ve got cars in the ‘Hood you know.”
He shrugged and got in on the passenger side. He only hoped they reached Biosphere2 before all hell broke loose. As they turned onto I-10, he saw flames rising from the Twin Buttes Resort.
“It’s burning,” he said.
Amanda smiled but did not look.
* * * *
Ahiga did not wish to die gasping away his life as the gas came. His wound no longer bled or hurt, just a dull aching pain with each step. He wondered why the woman had not killed him. Twice in one night, he had avoided death. If the Great Spirit called for his death, he would die. If not, he would survive his wound. The choice was no longer his. He stumbled often but did not fall, down the streets and through parking lots, always heading northwest out of the city, away from the gas.
He reached the edge of the desert as the sun breached the mountains to the east. Behind him, the city would be dying its second death. He changed direction, heading north toward his home in the Dine` Reservation. Some of his people still lived there, returning to the old ways as civilization had died around them. He would join them. As he stumbled along, he did not pay attention to his surroundings, simply keeping the sun on his right cheek to correct his path. When two zombies loomed before him, he did not run. He had no weapon to fight them. He stood and stared at them, waiting to die.
The Alpha male approached unafraid, sniffing the air until he stood face to face with Ahiga.
“It is a fine joke you play on me. Great Spirit,” Ahiga called to the sky. He began to sing his death song. The words were ancient, taught to him long ago as a child, but they came to him easily, flowing from his tongue. The Alpha zombie watched. When he completed his song, he waited.
The zombie reached out a hand and touched the wound on Ahiga’s side. He winced but did not cry out. Sniffing his fingers, the zombie then grunted. He raised his hand and lightly dragged a claw along Ahiga’s right cheek. The pain was intense, but still Ahiga did not cry out. The creature’s red eyes stared into his. He had thought of them as animals, but he saw something, perhaps a glint of its former humanity in its eyes. Satisfied, the Alpha male stepped back and howled. Ten more zombies appeared, including three females and two young ones. The yo
ung zombies sniffed him, touched him, and prodded him, but did not mark him. Then, they too retreated a short distance away. With another grunt, they all loped off.
Ahiga held his breath disbelieving his luck. The male turned, looked at him and grunted. Ahiga finally understood. They had accepted him among them. Once again, the Great Spirit had spoken to him. He hurried after them.
* * * *
Major Corzine sat on a boulder high up a rocky ridge on the northeast flank of South Mountain. He was exhausted, on foot, and had no water, but he wasn’t concerned. The sun was rising, bathing Phoenix in rays of golden light, almost as if the city was on fire. The jets would be overhead in minutes delivering their load of Sarin gas. Soon Phoenix would follow San Diego and Salt Lake City, the third town reclaimed from the zombies. Slowly, they were retaking the country. With his walkie-talkie, he could contact one of the pilots and they would send help. Vince Holcomb had made a fool of him for the second time. This would be his last. Corzine knew all he needed to know about the people huddled in their refuge of Biosphere2 from his spy. His missing CDC team was there with them. He would have them all back or all dead.
Zombies milled about in the streets below him, drawn by the explosion and fire – the resort. He didn’t know how it started, maybe by the zombies. Brother Malachi and his ilk would have to find a new place to live. The Gray Man had done this, released the prisoners and attempted to kill him. If he were still alive, the Gray Man would be his next target. If it took the resources of the entire U.S. military, he would find him.
Atkins, one of the Gray Man’s men was dead. He had stumbled over his body while climbing up the mountain. The only people who would have killed him were new Apostles. He grinned at the thought of one of the Gray Man’s men deserting him. Four vapor trails caught his attention. He smiled.
“The jets.”
He could not see the bombs, and the sound of the explosions came to him seconds later as muffled bangs, but he knew what the results would be. Camelback Mountain was the drop point, northeast of the city. The wind would carry the gas southwest through downtown, covering an area almost three miles wide and a swath fifteen miles long, killing every living creature in its path.