by Bushman, LJ
“He’s a—” I hesitated and glanced at the boys.
“Ooh, is he a zombie,” Kyle asked, excited and bouncing off the couch. “Is he dangerous?”
I looked to Lori for an explanation.
“The fools who kidnapped us talked in front of the boys with no regard to their age. I was able to put a stop to most of the sex talk, but not the zombie talk,” she said in answer to my questioning frown.
One more reason to shoot Andrea myself. “Yes, he’s a zombie,” I admitted reluctantly. “He’s dangerous if you try to hurt him, but he’s been hypnotized, and that’s making him be nice to me and protect me.”
“Oh cool,” both boys responded, sing-song. Well, they seemed to be no worse for the wear in general.
Al sat straight up, fully alert. It wasn’t a zombie thing, but rather his military training.
“Good morning, Al. These are my children, and their caretaker. You’re to protect them above all others. They are your number one mission. You protect them well, and I’ll keep you fed and as healthy as it’s possible to keep you. Clear?”
“Geez, Mom,” Kyle said. “You’re bossing him around like he’s me.”
“I have to make his instructions clear so there are no mistakes, or semantics for him to misunderstand me. Remember that in case you’re around him and need to communicate with him. For now, be quiet,” I finished with exasperation.
I moved into the kitchen and made a simple breakfast for everyone. Lots of toast and an egg for everyone, and the last of the sausage. Al ate, but I was grateful to see he’d lost the intense, hungry stare. Maybe being fed regularly took the edge off. Could the zombie problem be that easy to solve? No, I didn’t think so. I thought of some of the zombies who hadn’t died yet that I’d killed. My plan would only work on those who weren’t bad to begin with. At least, it was my working theory.
My heart sped up when I heard Joseph call out a greeting to the people at the table behind me. I turned around and smiled. We’d managed a little alone time after everyone else was in bed. Granted, we’d had to be quieter than we would’ve liked, but definite plusses to be had to overcome the negatives. I turned back to the counter where I buttered the toast before I giggled like a teenager in the back seat of a car.
We’d filled Lori in on her part of our plan for the day, garnering Janessa’s willingness to watch the boys. We decided to take Al with us and do testing on him as well. If it didn’t cause him to freak. None of us wanted a freaked out, pissed off zombie on our hands in the FBI labs.
The four of us piled into my car: Lori, Joseph, Al and myself. Joseph had his phone back; I still needed to replace mine. We drove to his office, but he signaled for me to continue driving and turned to us laughing and making animated motions. I caught his cue and started laughing as well.
It took Lori a second longer but she started in on the animated hand movements like a college girl. She leaned on Al and laughed. Al looked at her and then us, then laughed. Not stupid. He knew intrigue and guessed correctly what we needed.
About two blocks away, we all stopped laughing and started searching for a phone booth. In today’s cell age, it was nearly impossible to find a payphone. Lori spotted one after we’d gone about a mile. Joseph got out and used it to call the office.
A minute later, he ran back to the car and told me to drive. I didn’t ask questions, just drove. About five minutes later, he sat up and had me drive to his house. He ran in. Ten minutes later, he carried out luggage and headed to another car I presumed belonged to his mother. After getting his mom and my kids in the car and watching them leave, he jogged back to my car with his duffle bag. He pulled out passports and handed one to Al. Al looked enough like the guy in the picture to pass.
“Al,” I said. “If someone asks you for your license, tell them you don’t have one. What about Lori?” I thought I knew what he had in mind, but we’d need a passport for her as well.
“You have yours, right?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
“Any of your special ones in your backup backpack?”
“Yeah,” I admitted reluctantly.
“Give one to Lori. Give her a ponytail holder and have her pull her hair back. I hope it works.” We pulled into a McDonald’s where I purchased large quantities of food before getting out the passports. After a little make-up adjustment, Lori and Al looked as much like their passport photos as anyone ever did.
I drove to the border crossing. We made it through with no problems. I drove to the hotel we’d went to originally. My main pack was still in the room I’d paid ahead for. I always paid for longer than I needed.
Joseph, with huge sunglasses on, checked in under his assumed name. He set Lori up as his personal secretary and asked for her to have a room across the hall. Al became his personal bodyguard and asked for his room to be adjacent to his.
I checked in with the desk clerk, asking for another week to be charged to my card. And for four large dinners to be sent to my room. He asked about my cast and I assured him it was fine, but that I’d had a hiking accident and had been resting in my room, not wanting to be disturbed.
None of us spoke much since leaving Joseph’s house. I trusted Joseph enough to wait until he felt safe to tell us what happened back in El Paso. Lori trusted me and Al was along to protect me. We went to our rooms, with plans for everyone to meet in mine.
Joseph knew the way through the hotel, so he went with Lori and Al to make sure the rooms would work the way he wanted. Most importantly, ensuring Al wouldn’t go demon zombie on us. When they’d returned to my room, he gave me a thumbs up.
Once the food was served and the room service waiter gone, I popped a fry and asked, “So what the hell just happened?”
“The Bureau was on lock down. Bomb threats everywhere. It’s fucking mayhem. I could hear it in the background when I called in.” He munched on a burger.
“So how’d you know to drive past it?” I asked around a huge bite of my shredded beef taco.
“I have a friend in records. When things are wrong inside the building, she puts up a UPS STOP sign. The color denotes what level. She used red.”
“I’m assuming that’s not the color of love.” Yeah. Fear, thy name is humor.
“No, it’s not. You want to know the punch line?”
I knew he was being rhetorical, but part of me was frustrated and wanted to answer, Duh! Instead, I said, “Of course.”
“The building’s on fire and no-one can find the Deputy Director.”
Chapter 25
Shit and double fuck. Someone set the FBI building on fire? Heads were going to roll. “What do you think happened to him?”
“If he left of his own accord, he’ll contact us soon. If he’s been kidnapped or is under the influence, so to speak, we’re going to have to mount a rescue mission on our own,” Joseph replied.
“I’m just a lab geek. What can I do,” Lori chimed in.
“It’s a lab geek who can tell us what we’re searching at if we come across papers and you can play look-out, if you’re willing to come,” Joseph told her.
I agreed, although I had some trepidation regarding her coming with us. Lori had trained with me to some degree, but her experience level wasn’t where I’d like it for her to be exposed to these bastards. Then again, it wasn’t like the assholes of the world were going to wait until I said she was ready, either.
We made our plan for the evening. All the while, I thought, What if the director didn’t come back to Mexico? There were so many things which could go wrong, but we had little choice. Even if he wasn’t there, we needed to find some evidence of the Resurrection Vaccine, the hypnosis formula, and how it worked. Not to mention, I still wanted to get my hands on the drug that knocked me out and got me roped into this mess in the first place.
The idea of having my freedom dependent on who held a needle with that stuff made my skin crawl. So off I went on a crazy mission with my friend, lover, and a zombie. There was a joke in there som
ewhere. A zombie walks into a bar and… yeah.
With orders to Al and Lori to rest, and requests from room service to wake us up and deliver food at seven in the evening, we split up to get some sleep. My mind spun and I didn’t know how I was going to get any rest. I must have fallen asleep; next thing I knew, someone knocked on my door yelling room service.
I shuffled and mumbled on my way to open the door when my brain caught up to the rest of me. Come on, girl. I growled at myself, grabbed my gun, and stuck it in the back of the jeans I’d changed into when I arrived.
There was no peephole on these doors. That would just be too easy. “Who is it?”
“Room service, ma’am.” I swore the guy snickered when he said ma’am.
“What time is it?” I asked, as if muddled from sleep.
“Uh, six thirty,” he replied. Wrong answer.
“Give me a minute, I was sleeping,” I called out as I moved to the bathroom at a run, grabbing my pack on the way.
I was barely in the bathroom when someone kicked in the cheap pressed board that comprised the door of my room. Dropping to the floor, under the standing porcelain sink, I pressed my back against the wall and pushed my pack between me and the door. Thank God for old hotel rooms.
The old sink even had an extra column of protection from the bullets flying through the door. I cringed and covered my face and head as the bullets pinged off the sink. That was a little too close for my comfort. When there was a pause in the flying shrapnel and pieces of wall, I peeked out. Gauging the height of the shooter based on the concentration of bullet holes in the bathroom door, I shot through the door until I heard a grunt.
He was hit and started yelling obscenities at me. I reloaded my gun–I needed to buy stock in the bullet company the way I was going through them. More bullets flew through the door at me. Between the shooter and me, we’d unloaded enough bullets to create a good-sized hole in the door. Not much cover for me anymore.
I saw movement through the ruined door and fired. This time his grunt was louder.
“You stupid bitch,” he yelled.
There was that word again. I was so sick of being called a bitch when defending myself. Did they all learn the word at bad guy school or something? “Not so stupid. I shot you, didn’t I?” I taunted him, hoping he’d come back into my line of sight.
He took the bait and I shot, hitting his shoulder. I ducked back behind my pack and the sink, curled into as small a ball as possible, and waited for retaliation. I held my breath, listening. A gurgling sound seeped through the door. What the hell? Did I hit his lung? Shit. If he was a zombie, and my bet was yes, he’d be back. Trying to stay out of sight if he looked through the hole in the door, I reached into my pack and grabbed my serrated knife. It was messy, but it worked.
“Serena?” I heard Joseph’s voice and nearly cried in relief and worry.
I opened the door and moved to the guy on the ground. He had a knife in the back of his skull. The way I’d told Joseph to do during our brief stay at this hotel the first time. Now I knew why the man gurgled.
“Get your knife out and clean it.” I was a little abrupt and a lot pissed. How they’d found me, I didn’t know, but it stank.
“It’s a crime scene now.”
Fuck. I knew it was a crime scene. However, I was running low on knives. I still hadn’t got my necklace knife holder back, along with a few others I had on me when they started the torture. Good thing I liked Joseph.
“Yes, well, since it’s the only way to kill the bastards, we need all the knives we can get. Mine have been confiscated by the terrorists creating the beasts. I’ve got two. This one” —I held up the serrated knife— “and one other. How many do you have?”
“Enough,” he replied. By the set of his chin, he wasn’t giving in.
“Fine. Go get hotel security to call the authorities.”
Fuck and double fuck. There were times when having an FBI agent around was convenient. This wasn’t one of them.
I called Lori’s room to check on her.
“Any trouble on your end,” I asked when she answered. I doubted it. Her voice sounded like I woke her up.
“What? No. Why do you ask? What’s happened?” She knew me too well. I’d never ask the way I had unless there’d already been trouble.
“Someone came to my room pretending to be room service. I ran into the bathroom and played pin the bitch with him.”
“Another freak called you a bitch, didn’t they? You know, maybe you should hire yourself out to the cops. You know, ‘all bad guys call me a bitch’ kind of thing. Then they’d know for sure who the criminals are, right?” Her laugh rolled down the phone line and I smiled.
“I’ll run that by Joseph and see what he thinks,” I replied sardonically. Friends. “If you’re fine, why don’t you take Al down for a rare steak and some burritos? Room service has been cancelled.”
She gave an abrupt, surprised laugh. “Will do.”
“And maybe a hamburger,” I added at the last second. She just laughed at me.
“I’m fine alone with Al. I can figure it out,” she said and hung up on me.
Lori really was awesome. I didn’t know how I’d been so lucky to find her, but I was grateful for her every day. I hoped the self-defense laws were as good here as the U.S. Better, in fact. We didn’t need any hang-ups at this stage.
What if the wrong someone in the FBI was contacted to verify Joseph’s identification? I put my pack on my back and waited outside for the authorities. I was checking out now, regardless. They’d found me and one of my aliases. Unless they assumed it was a generic one provided by the FBI. I guess it depended on who found me. The asswipe who tried to kill me wouldn’t be answering any questions.
Hotel security came running up, Joseph close behind. I gave them my statement and went to check out. Security wanted me to hang around, but Joseph told them he’d vouch for me.
I checked out at the front desk, then joined Lori and Al in the hotel’s restaurant, waiting to see if the FBI angle warped on us or not. I ordered the steak fajita plate, extra side of meat. Tonight was going to be major. My plan was to eat as much as I could and make sure Joseph ate before we left. I’d no idea how long he would take. When the waitress came with our food, I asked for four hamburgers to go.
With a hungry zombie and two rocket engine metabolisms, we couldn’t afford to be without food at our disposal. Lori, Al, and I were pretty quiet as we ate. Lori asked for clarification about the serums we were looking for and I filled her in on everything I’d heard from the Suits on down. Al watched us quietly. I knew he processed what we said because when I talked about the powdered drug in the food to help with the hypnosis drug given by needle, he narrowed his eyes. I left it for now; we didn’t have time to go into another story.
We were almost finished when I heard a voice I recognized. I whipped my head to the side. It was the army medic who’d helped me and put a cast on my arm. “Hey!” I called. He saw me and delight shone from his face. Relief as well.
“Wow, I’m so glad to see you. You’re in much better shape than the last time I saw you. When did you get out?”
I smiled at him, trying to calculate the time I’d been out and couldn’t. “I’m not sure, but not long. What are you doing here?” I gave a little embarrassed laugh. “You’ve seen me under bad circumstances, but I still don’t know your name.”
“Trent Williams. I’m supposed to meet with the FBI Deputy Director here before going back out to the warehouse. What are you doing here?”
My insides went cold. No way. “How long have you been here?”
“About an hour. I’m supposed to wait here for him or someone to bring me a message if he can’t make it on time. Frankly, I don’t like it.”
Couldn’t say I blamed him. My instincts screeched like a bald eagle who’d spotted prey. An hour ago, the guy who’d tried to kill me was probably supposed to kill Trent next. Damn.
He stood there looking at me and his body te
nsed. “What is it?”
“Sit down,” I said instead of answering right away, indicating the seat I’d vacated. I sat next to Al. “Tell me exactly how and when the arrangements were made for you to meet here.” I pulled my plate across and kept eating while he talked.
He looked at me funny, but I guess he decided to humor me. “I was headed to the FBI office in El Paso to see the director about the tortures and procedures regarding prisoners of war. There’s been a few times I’ve made complaints, but your condition was atrocious.”
Tell me about it.
He paused and looked at me wryly, as if he’d heard my thought. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what they put you through. Up until you, I saw no evidence of them crossing the line so blatantly. They walked the line all the time, and I reported that I felt someone else should be in charge of extracting information, but I was ignored. Until you.”
Yeah, I hit the freaking jackpot, baby. “Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know, but someone got very excited at the mention of your name in my report. I’ve never been called back so fast regarding one of my reports. I suppose the severity of it could be the reason, but that’s not how it felt.”
I let him think it through for a minute. Sometimes our instincts caught things we didn’t consciously realize.
“They called back immediately to verify the name of the person in custody. I had all your things they confiscated, including your license, so I even spelled your name right.” Points for him at his attempt at humor. I found people who laughed at themselves and their work were better balanced. It was one reason why so many emergency people laughed at bad jokes the public found offensive.
“They asked for a full description of you, not your injuries. After they hung up, fifteen minutes later, I had the Deputy Director of the FBI talking to me.”
Shit. The guy on my side within the FBI was the one they managed to hit with the virus and hypnotize to do their bidding. Life had gone from just peachy to a fruit basket.