S.W. Tanpepper's GAMELAND, Season One Omnibus

by Saul Tanpepper

  The younger cop shrugs. “It’s strange, but I can’t see—”

  Old Mister Fat Cop leans over to me, his face just inches from mine. “I’ve been on this job for forty years. I’ve seen a lot of fucked up shit, young lady. I’ve caught a shit-load of criminals. I’ve broken a hell of a lot, too. I can tell you that this doesn’t smell right. In fact, it smells downright stinky.”

  If I weren’t so scared, I’d laugh in his face and tell him shit usually does stink. Plus, he sounds like the cops from those old shows Micah has bootleg copies of in his basement.

  I raise my hands in a gesture of defeat. “I don’t know where Kelly is. I wish I did. I’m worried—”

  “You don’t look very worried.”

  “Al,” the younger cop says.

  The older cop inhales slowly. He straightens up, turns and walks to the window and looks out. Then he turns back to me and says, “We’re pulling yesterday’s checkpoint records. I hope I don’t find that you all went back down to Manhattan.”

  “I was on a transit to Hartford,” I say. “And you’re wrong about me not being worried. I’m worried sick about Kelly.”

  The older cop glances down at his Link while I’m talking. He shows it to Al, then abruptly stands up and announces they’re finished. I wish I knew what newsflash he just received.

  As I show them to the door, the younger cop tries to make nice. “So, you take karate?”

  “Hapkido. Eric got me into it years ago. For self-defense.”

  Shit-Head snorts. “You want my advice, young lady? Teach yourself to fire a gun. That’s the only kind of self defense you need.” He rubs the forty five on his hip and leers, like it’s his dick he’s talking about. The asshole probably sleeps with the damn thing in his hand. “That fancy shmancy Chuck Norris stuff won’t do you no good, not against the Undead.” He chuckles. “Not that you’d ever have any need to use it on them, right?”

  He does a clumsy imitation of a karate chop.

  I stare back at him with my best blank look, and not because I don’t know who Chuck Norris was—I do—but to let him know he’s a total prick. Mentioning someone from, like, fifty years ago just shows how out of touch he really is.

  “I suppose you’ve got all kinds of experience fighting zombies sitting at the local coffee shop, is that it?” I say after breaking the stare first. I know even as I’m saying it that I’m treading on thin ice. I lower my eyes pointedly to his bulging stomach. “I heard they like to eat, too.”

  But he just doesn’t get when he’s being insulted. “A lot more experience than you, young lady. I was there in the City during the outbreak twelve years ago. You were probably still in your diapers. I hope and pray you never have to meet one of the bastards. Dirty, stinking fuckers. NCDs are just a bunch of wussy necrophiliacs, if you ask me.”

  He barks out a laugh and claps his partner on the shoulder, who now looks about as uncomfortable as anyone could be. “Oh, excusee my Français. I meant zombie lovers.”

  I glare as I hold the door open for him.

  “Thank you for your time, Miss Daniels,” the other cops says. “Sorry to bother you.” He taps my Link with his to transfer his contact info. “Ping us if you hear anything.”

  I nod.

  He walks down the steps, then turns. “Will you be around later this afternoon? We may have a few more questions for you.”

  I shrug, which they evidently interpret as a yes. As they walk down the sidewalk, they hold their heads together, conspiring no doubt about their next move. Good cop and bad cop. Young cop and asshole.

  I close the door and lean my head against it

  “You didn’t handle that very well.”

  Grandpa’s voice startles me. I spin around to find him standing right behind me. I wonder how much of the interview he heard. And that makes me wonder why he didn’t come in while the cops were still here. I sure could’ve used a little help against Fatso.

  “Antagonizing the police is always a mistake.”

  I brush past him. I need some air. And I certainly don’t need Grandpa trying to tell me what’s right and what’s wrong. “I’m late for class.”

  To my surprise, he lets me go without saying another word.

  When I arrive at the dojang ten minutes later, it’s all abuzz about something big happening down in Manhattan. I try to stay out of it, though I do listen to what’s being said. The theories range all over the place, but a few come uncomfortably close to the truth. At least as far as I know it.

  Halfway through one of my sparring sessions, Master Rupert walks past. He catches my eye, jolting me out of my focus. My sparring partner takes immediate advantage of my distraction. The next thing I know, I’m down on the mat with my arm wrenched behind me. The ref grants him the win.

  I pick myself up off the floor and hurry away without the traditional bow of respect and thanks. My shoulder’s sore and my arm feels like it’s been pulled from its socket.

  “Kwanjangnim Rupert,” I call.

  He stops and waits for me, smiling in his usual easygoing way. “Sunbae Jessie. How good to see you. We missed you on Saturday.”

  “I’m sorry. I was…out of town.”

  He nods and waits.

  “How’s your back?” I ask, suddenly feeling unsure of myself. How do I ask him about Ash?

  He furrows his brow for a moment, confused, then laughs. “Ah, all better. Thank you for asking.”

  “I’m glad.”

  His smile wavers and he raises his eyebrows.

  “I was just wondering, sir.”

  “Yes?”

  “There’s this girl I know. Her name’s Ashley Evans. Do you… You wouldn’t happen to know her, would you?”

  He shakes his head and says, “No, I don’t think so. Should I? Is she interested in taking lessons?” I’m not certain, but I think I see a flicker of something cross his face—surprise, maybe, or suspicion.

  “Not exactly. It’s just that I saw that she had your contact info on her Link.”

  He shrugs and looks away. “Could be for any number of reasons. Perhaps you should ask her.”

  I nod.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to prepare for the juniors class.”

  He turns and leaves me standing there. It’s true that the juniors class starts in a few minutes, but it’s not like Rupert to treat any of his students with such brusqueness. Do his actions mean anything? Do they conceal a secret, or a lie? I hate feeling that way about a man I’ve known half my life and have always deeply respected for telling it like it is.

  As I ponder what this all could mean, he goes into his office, shutting the door behind him. I watch through the glass as he pulls out his Link and thumbs the screen for a moment before lifting it to his ear. I can see him talking, though I can’t hear a word he says. His back is turned, but then he turns and sees me and quickly turns around again.

  It’s this last bit that troubles me the most.

  Chapter 10

  I see Micah’s car parked in his driveway when I pass his house going home. It’s just sitting there, so conspicuously that it seems strange, especially given all that’s going on with the police right now. I go up to knock on his door, hoping everything’s all right. Hoping that maybe Kelly and Jake are back and everything’s back to normal again.

  I barely raise my hand when the door opens and someone yanks me inside. It’s Micah. He takes a quick glance up and down the street before closing it again.

  “You weren’t followed were you?”

  “Yeah,” I say, confused. “I think I picked up a tail at Vinny’s pool hall. But I took evasive action.”

  “Huh? Vinnie’s what?”

  I sigh. “What’s going on, Micah? I thought you were going to lay low. Your car’s in the driveway.”

  He starts pacing across the room. I’ve never seen him this agitated before, but there’s an excited gleam in his blue eyes. There’s worry there, too, but also excitement.

  “I wasn’t sure if I s
hould go by your place or not. I was afraid they’d be watching it.”

  “The cops? Paranoid much?”

  “I’m serious. Reggie says there’s a car parked outside his house. Somebody’s watching him.” He runs his hands through his curls like he’s hyped up on caffeine. If I did that, my hair would be a tangled mess, but his just falls right back into place, looking exactly the way it was before. It’s not fair that guys can have nicer hair than me. He probably doesn’t even know what bed-head is. “Listen, are you free for the rest of the day?” he asks.

  I shrug. “Yeah, I guess. Not like I can go anywhere.”

  “Well, you are. We’re getting out of here as soon as Reg and Ash get here.” He checks his Link and shakes his head. “I wish they’d hurry.”

  I move in front of him so he has to stop pacing. “Hold on a sec. What’re you talking about?”

  “We’re heading back down to New York.”

  My heart skips a beat. “You can’t be serious.”

  “We’re going to get Kelly and Jake.”

  Now my head really starts to buzz. And instead of the room coming into focus again, it just starts spinning even faster.

  “You okay, Jess?”

  I fall onto the couch; the springs complain. The air conditioner hums away and a cool breeze blows across my face from the vent in the ceiling, but the room still feels too hot, too close. I think I might be sick. I push him away. I need to think.

  “You got a Link, right?” he asks.

  “Yeah, but—” I reach into my pocket and pull it out. “Wait, you can’t be serious. Are you saying we’re going back to Long Island? Have you lost your mind?”

  “Ashley finished the hack, Jessie,” he says, thumbing through my Link. “Christ, what a piece of crap.” He hands it back to me, then kneels down in front of me and grabs my hands. “Ash built an algorithm that could actually parse ArcWare’s codex. It ran all day yesterday.” He waves his hand. “Doing that learning and adapting shit she’s always going on about.”

  “Heuristic—”

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. The point is, it works, Jess! She got us into The Game! She actually got us in!”

  I don’t know if it’s lack of sleep or food or the overdosing on stress, but I’m having trouble following him. “Are you talking about breaking into Gameland?”

  “Yes! I mean, no! I mean, yes, about the hack, not about breaking in.” He jumps to his feet and starts pacing again, waving his hands wildly about. He almost hits me in the face on one pass. “I’m talking about being able to see everything in there!”

  “Damn it, Micah!” I yell at him. “I actually thought you might be talking about going to get Kelly and Jake, but you’re just talking about some dumb video game?”

  “I’m spewing, I know. Lack of sleep.” He hurries into the kitchen and pulls a Red Bull out of the case on the counter and chugs the whole thing warm. “Let me try again. What I’ve been trying to say is we can see everything inside. Well, almost everything. It’s not a video feed, but we can track now. From out here!”

  “Still spewing nonsense.”

  “I found them. I found Kelly and Jake. I tracked them with this!” He reaches into his pocket and pulls up his Link. “The location app tells me where they are. We know they’re alive!”

  My heart starts racing again. I’d had alternating visions of them showing up at my door and in the morgue. Either way, the cops would be with them, taking us into custody.

  “So…they’re still there? You can see that? Why haven’t they tried to come back yet?”

  “I don’t know, but they are coming, Jess, that much I’m sure of. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. As soon as Ash and Reg get here, we’re going to go meet them.”

  Excitement and relief wash over me, but then a new thought comes to mind and I gasp in panic. “You need to tell them not to come!”

  He frowns. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to. It’s just a tracking app. It doesn’t work that way. We can’t talk to them and they have no idea we can see them.”

  “If they try coming back through the tunnel, they’ll be shot! Manhattan is swarming with NCD officers and military right now. Eric’s with them. They’ll be seen the moment they surface, and I’m pretty sure it’s shoot first, ask questions later right now.”

  Micah’s frown deepens. “What’s going on in Manhattan?”

  I tell him about the call Eric got last night and how he was gone half the night dealing with IUs. “He said lower Manhattan’s been invaded. They’re coming through the tunnel. Media’s buzzing this morning, but they haven’t come out and said exactly what it is.”

  Micah looks shocked for a moment. “I haven’t been on Media this morning.” He gets up. “Shit. It’s because of us, isn’t it?”

  I nod.

  “Aw, Christ. What did we do?” he whispers. “But… Did the zombies come out alive? I mean…you know.”

  “Eric said they had to use shotguns, so, yes, they came out alive.”

  He exhales heavily.

  “I don’t think anyone was hurt. And Eric claimed they got them all. But I’m not so sure. I think he was just saying that so I wouldn’t panic. You know how protective he is of me. I think that’s also why it’s not being reported on Media.”

  Micah nods gravely. “Then it’s a really good thing Kelly and Jake aren’t taking the Midtown tunnel.”

  “What do you mean? How else would they come back?”

  “They were heading northeast when I last checked this morning. When they came online, they were about a mile east of the Midtown tunnel. They weren’t moving and I kind of freaked out a little. But then they did move, so I figured they’d just set up camp or something to wait out the zombies. When I rechecked later, I saw that they were even further away. They’d moved almost four miles. They’re clearly going somewhere with a plan in mind. I can’t know for sure, but I’m pretty sure they were heading for the other tunnel.”

  I close my eyes and picture the map Ash had gotten for us before our trip. There were two tunnels: the Midtown, which is the one we took, and the Brooklyn Battery. But the Battery was further south and west, not northeast.

  When I mention this to Micah, he shakes his head. “Not the Battery. There’s another tunnel—two, actually. They’re further north. I think they were heading for one of those.”

  “I didn’t know about any other tunnels.”

  “Kelly didn’t either. Jake told us about them when Ash and I met with him that first day, when we asked him about the diving equipment. But we decided they weren’t the best options.”

  “Are they far?”

  “Five or six miles up the coast from the Midtown tunnel. The closest one passes under Randall’s Island and comes out into the old East Harlem neighborhood.”

  “Which is all swampland now, Micah. Nobody lives down that way anymore. And nobody goes there except to fish, old men on the edge of conscription and poor families.” I shudder at the thought of the fish they must pull out of the water there.

  “Which is a good thing. No one will see us when they come out.”

  “Fine, but how’re we going to get out to the opening? I’m not swimming.

  “I still need to figure that out. A raft or something. I don’t know how far from the road it’s going to be.”

  I frown. “You said there were two tunnels. Where’s the other one?”

  “Further north and east, about another mile and half or so. According to Jake, very few people know about it, and it’s not on any of the maps we dug up. He said his uncle once told him about it, when he worked as a baggage handler at LaGuardia, which is where the opening is. But they won’t take that one. Even if they knew where it is, it’s five miles long. The Harlem’s only half that.”

  I whistle. Two and a half miles underwater. Even freshly rested and with the current behind them, it would take almost three hours to swim, the maximum range of the rebreather cartridges. Five miles would be impossible, even with extra cartridges. It’
s just too long of a distance.

  Micah checks the time on his Link. “At the rate they’re moving, they’ll have reached the opening by now. I just hope they find it quickly.” He thumbs his Link awake. “I was just about to track them again when you showed up at the door.”

  A map of Long Island appears on his screen. He reverse pinches it to expand one section.

  I expect to see a pair of tiny red blips, the signals from their implants, but there’s nothing, just a schematic of the island and roads that haven’t been used in thirteen years. He points. “The opening’s right about here.”

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “That’s good news. It means they’ve found the tunnel and are in it. They’re probably directly underneath the wall. The signal there would be blocked.”

  He hands me the Link. While I stare at it in my hands, he goes over to the fridge. “We’ve got less than three hours to get there, find some way to float out to where the opening on our side is, and retrieve them.”

  He hands me a couple water pouches.

  For the first time I notice the circles under his eyes, and I realize he’s probably been working night and day on the ArcWare hack. All this time I’d thought it was so he could play The Game, but it was really so he could find the boys. I feel guilty for doubting him.

  “Once they’re back…” he says, exhaling heavily, as if he’s been carrying the weight of the world solely on his shoulders. He holds up his hands and gives me a weak smile. “Then everything will be okay.”

  I smile, too, and pray he’s not being overly optimistic. I know things won’t all be okay. After that cop this morning, just because Kelly and Jake show up again doesn’t mean he’ll back off. He suspects we’re somehow connected with the IU invasion in lower Manhattan. Unfortunately, he’s right.

  But first things first: Kelly and Jake.

  “Come on,” Micah says suddenly. He offers me his hand and helps me off the couch. “We can’t keep sitting around waiting. We need to move.”

  “What about Ash and Reg?”

  “We’ll drive around until we find them.”