by Steven Booth
“Stay loose, Alex.”
They stood side by side facing the thick fence that encircled the zombie enclosure. A few curious living-impaired individuals shambled their way, sensing fresh meat. Miller shaded her eyes. The once bright sun was sinking into the dusky shadows of the mountains to the west. They didn’t have a lot of daylight left.
“Alex?”
“Guess I’m okay, Sheriff. How are you holding up?”
“I feel like she beat me like a rented mule,” Miller said.
“She did.” Alex gave a wry smile. “So what’s the plan?”
Miller almost put her hands on the electrified wire fence. She didn’t. She was fairly sure the voltage wouldn’t kill her, though it might singe her flesh. It would most likely just tingle and jumble her nerves for a moment. But she couldn’t be certain of that. She studied on the fence for another minute. It was well made. They Army Corps of Engineers had done a good job, sinking concrete pillars and iron pipe, stringing the fencing three and four times to protect the soldiers from the horde of zombies. Miller briefly considered ripping a piece apart with her bare hands, but no matter how super strong she was, she was still human. This was sharp steel wire. She maybe could tolerate the voltage, but the keen edges would probably tear her hands to shreds.
Unhh hunhh hunhh… Lonely… hungry… sad… angry… Why? Why?
Miller stepped back from the fence. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This close to the zombie horde, she was having trouble concentrating. Their dark, primitive emotions weighed her down. They weren’t actually words; they were just feelings from a preverbal consciousness. These creatures were in such agony. Miller felt an overwhelming sense of grief that made her chest feel thick and heavy. She knew Alex was studying her and wondering if he’d made a mistake by breaking free of Rat and her bodyguards. Miller opened her eyes. It took everything that she had to hold things together. Just thinking clearly took a monumental effort.
“Can you jump?”
Alex looked up at the top of the fence. “Just jump over a nine-foot fence? Are you kidding? Besides, if we go in there those things will tear us to bits.”
“No, actually, I’m not kidding.” Miller looked up at the razor wire that lined the very top of the fence. It was indeed a long way up. It was also intimidating to picture climbing back down the other side and into the enclosure. But just going around the damn thing wasn’t an option. Evening wasn’t far off. Time was running out. Rat and the guards had to be awake again by now. They’d find their communication gear wrecked, but Rat was a professional. She’d figure something out, or just run like hell in their direction with the others lagging behind. Either way it wouldn’t be long before their options were narrowed. Someone would be coming after them and soon.
Alex said, “I’m not used to this shit.”
“We don’t have time for superhero lessons,” Miller said. “You’re just going to have to get the hang of this as you go.”
They had only one choice, go into the teeming throng of undead and attempt to break through to the other side. Something Rat and her minions would never attempt to do, that much seemed certain. Perhaps Rat was crazy enough to try it but the soldiers wouldn’t last a minute. The zombies would chow down.
“Ready?”
Alex nodded reluctantly.
Miller had a sickening feeling that this decision would doom them both. That it would be the last thing she’d ever do. If it failed she would never see Scratch again. Her mind was spinning in circles, filled with gruesome, imported images and intense, black thoughts. Her soul was a maelstrom of death and destruction. It was as if she had become a radio receiver open to every frequency. Every creature within a country mile was free to beam its tormented thoughts into her already overloaded brain.
Alex was unaware of the internal chaos she suffered. Miller still had no idea why. Was she the relay station for their triad? Had she simply reacted differently than the others due to the fact that she’d been dosed before? There was no way to explore that issue now. She had to save Scratch. Miller needed Scratch. He was her last remaining anchor to reality—to sanity—and it had always been up to her to keep him alive. When all else failed Penny Miller would always do her duty. She opened her mouth to speak.
Unhhh hunhh hunhh! Four of the zombies suddenly attacked the fence. They were shocked backwards and smoke rose from the wire. They were not super charged. The stink of burning, already necrotic flesh filled the air. Miller almost vomited.
Alex watched Miller. He had gone pale. They exchanged looks. Whatever Miller had in mind had better work.
“Here we go.” Miller stepped back from the fence a few feet, bent her legs, took a few deep breaths and leaned forward. She gripped her rifle tightly. She imagined leaping high, turning her back flat to clear the fence, sailing just enough to clear it. Then she just pushed off the ground with as much of her strength as she thought prudent. She launched herself into the air.
“Holy mother of God,” Alex said.
Miller grunted as she cleared the fence. She landed a few yards inside. She came down with her knees bent, absorbed the shock easily and didn’t even need to roll.
Unnhh… hunnhh…
The rest of the zombies, including those who hadn’t yet taken an interest in them, formed into a half circle, grunting and drooling and steadily closing the gap. They’d have to be careful. Miller knew that they had limited ammunition—not nearly enough for headshots all around. They were way, way outnumbered. And while Miller knew she could take on quite a few in a fight with nothing more than a machete, barehanded she would still be vulnerable. Her superpowers didn’t cover getting her throat ripped out. She and Alex were going to have to stay back to back and constantly moving if they hoped get out of this one alive.
“Come on, Alex,” Miller called. “We ain’t got all day. I need you in here with me!”
“I don’t know if I can do that.” The tension in his voice was palpable.
“Goddamn it, Alex, if you stop to think about this, we’re both dead. Now move your sorry ass.”
Miller backed away from the horde of zombies. They were a wide blur of horrid faces, torn bodies and shredded clothing. Their telepathic voices were so powerful, so heart-breaking, she didn’t dare let herself visualize these creatures as anything but mindless shapes with teeth and filthy, clutching fingers. Miller swallowed. The closest zombie, a thin man with red hair, reached out for her. She tried not to think about who the poor slob used to be, though she had the sickening feeling she would find out if she let herself ponder him for too long—that she’d have to take in everything he’d once been, everything he’d lost and now would never be; also that absorbing that might drive her totally insane. No, Miller had to let the dead be dead. She couldn’t fix these things and she couldn’t cure them, as much as she kept wanting to, that just couldn’t be done. It was simple. The man wanted to destroy her. She had one option.
Kill him again.
So when the red-haired man reached for her. Miller spun the zombie around, picked him up by his belt and collar, and hurled him as hard as she could at the approaching horde. Zombies stumbled and fell and went down like bowling pins. The red-haired man hit the ground hard. His passing cleared a path for Miller to follow, a path deeper into the horde, one that would be open only for a moment.
“Alex?”
Miller turned. She looked back through the wire, but Alex wasn’t there. She spotted a dust trail coming, moving in from the north. Miller squinted and shaded her eyes against the low sunset. There. In the distance, a vehicle was moving, racing closer. Miller raised the rifle, ready to shoot if necessary, but she also had to keep one eye on the zombies that were fast approaching. It was all happening too quickly. She was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place. Alex had vanished.
And now someone was coming.
Miller said, “Fuck a duck.”
The vehicle was huge—a Hummer, from the looks of it. It was headed towards her. It w
as definitely coming from the direction shooting range. Had Rat regained consciousness and found transportation? Had she come after Miller to kill her, or just to take her in? Was it just one of the other soldiers transporting fresh zombies to the corral? Miller was stuck wondering, friend or foe? She couldn’t remain where she was either way. The zombie horde was sealing her off from the exit. The situation was untenable. She didn’t know what was going on and there was only one way to find out. She had to choose a direction.
Miller kicked a wide, overweight female zombie in the stomach. The woman’s wig fell off into the dirt. The other zombies murmured, both in her ears and in her mind. Miller backed away from them, deliberately moving deeper into the horde. Scratch was good as dead if she got captured. But then, as the Hummer approached, the driver honked the horn. Miller looked back. It was Alex at the wheel and he was waving.
“Wait!” Miller called, as she realized what was about to happen. Alex did not slow down as he approached the perimeter fence. She looked back over her shoulder. The zombies were no longer attacking. They weren’t even moving. Perhaps sensing her intensity, they’d all stopped in their tracks. They watched dully, like a crowd at a NASCAR event. A small Black child stared at her, neck broken, head titled at an odd angle. Miller had to block his thoughts to keep from her own from becoming a gibbering mess.
She realized the Hummer was coming right at them, accelerating by the second.
“Alex, what are you doing?”
Alex appeared to have second thoughts right about then but it was too late.
The huge Hummer ran directly into the wire fence, its impact less than ten feet to Miller’s left side. The horde of waiting zombies was blown backwards by the force. The concrete cracked, the wood splintered, the top of the electric fence flew apart in a rain of white sparks. Miller gasped. She had to scramble to get out of the way of the debris as the Hummer crushed forward into the mob. The large fence bowed inwards, but in the end it didn’t fully collapse. Instead, it wrapped itself around the Hummer like a cocoon and flipped the vehicle over on one side. Miller gaped. The destruction was awesome to behold. The combined bulk of the fence and Hummer completely crushed over a dozen of the lethargic zombies. The Hummer finally stopped sliding. The wheels spun uselessly as the vehicle finally settled on its roof.
Unhhh hunhh…
The horde of creatures seemed puzzled and momentarily paralyzed by indecision. They stared at the Hummer and milled around. Taking advantage of the pause, Miller climbed over the wreckage to get to where Alex was trapped. The hole in the fence was visible, the empty desert beyond, the lengthening shadows that stroked the sand like ghostly fingers. Miller forgot everything else for a minute. She had to rescue Alex. By the time she got over the bulk of the vehicle to the driver’s side, he was already pushing the door open. It screamed like an eagle.
She held out her hand to help Alex out. “Are you hurt?”
“Only my pride,” Alex mumbled. He stood still on the side of the Hummer and grimaced without looking at her. “That’s one tough fucking fence.”
And then he giggled again. His mind was slipping.
Men.
“Of all the silly-assed, pig-headed, thoughtless, stupid, fucked-up ideas you could have come up with, you had to think of that one? Smashing the damned fence down so an undead army could escape into the wild?”
“My bad.”
The zombies had already regrouped. They moved quickly, at least by zombie standards. Freedom beckoned. Several were climbing over the razor-wire tops of the crushed fence. Their flesh tore open but rarely bled, and of course they did not feel the pain. They seemed to know the wiser course was escape, though Miller couldn’t have said how or why. They were a stumbling, bumbling, ugly mess of dead flesh and bone, but their group mind seemed to be working just fine.
“What a flea-brained thing to do,” Miller sputtered. “We want the zombies inside the base, not wandering through the desert like a bunch of undead, pissed off Israelites. When did you forget how to follow orders, surfer boy?”
Alex scowled. The zombies broke around the Hummer, half to the left and half to the right. Some fell on the wire, apparently so that others could climb over and escape. Alex seemed to catch the tempo of her profanity. His time in the service shined through. “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, lady. I know you’re supposed to be the expert when it comes to fighting zombies, but I wasn’t about to walk my ass through a Goddamned sold-out rock concert crowd of stinky-assed folk with just my good looks to see me through to the other side.”
Miller looked at him in disbelief. He was starting to pick up her speech patterns. She had one whopper of a headache. Miller felt her stomach roll over again. The drug had her dazed. She rubbed her temples. The voices from the zombie horde were getting louder and somehow clearer, and the effect was creating one hell of a mess in her brain. Miller knew when she was whipped. She had to get this over with before her head exploded. It was scorched from all the anguish and hopelessness continuously flooding her tired mind.
“Are you sick?” Alex asked. His voice showed genuine concern.
“A bit.”
Miller squinted into the setting sun, hoping to be distracted, but the glare just made her head hurt more. She saw floating black dots against a smeared rainbow of color.
“Alex, look here. I don’t have time to explain the plan in detail. You will just have to follow my lead. We need to get inside that base, and we’ll need to create a big fucking diversion to accomplish that. I had something in mind, but you changed the rules. We’ll have to improvise and make use of what you did just now with the Hummer.”
Alex leaned closer. “Okay, talk to me.”
“So here it is. In about two minutes, our new diversion will have emptied itself out into the scrub brush, and right about then we’ll be fucked. So I’ve got one last idea. Now, are you going to follow my lead or not?”
“I’m not going back in there with those things,” Alex said.
“Alex, listen,” Miller said. “We have no time to fuck around. Scratch needs your help. Now’s not the time to turn coward. Besides, your options appear to be to stay here and get eaten or captured, maybe die of exposure out in the desert, or if you’re real lucky just have your heart suddenly burst from the accelerant. So name your poison, cowboy.”
“Well, that sucks.”
And quite suddenly two zombies spun around as if under orders and crawled up the side of the Hummer. They reached out for Alex, grunting loudly with an almost sensual longing and ravenous hunger. Uhh-huunnnhh!
Alex took too long to react. Miller watched, trying to gauge his value as a partner. Alex snapped out of it just in time. He punched one in the face, knocking it off the vehicle to the ground. He then kicked the other thing in the chest, the blow sending it sailing over the fence to crash into some of its fellows.
“We need to move, Alex.”
“Okay, okay, maybe you have a point, Sheriff. We’ll go. But if you call me a coward again, you’re on your own.”
“My sincere apologies,” Miller said, most insincerely. “Now, let’s get the happy hell out of here and save my man. Follow me.”
They climbed down from the Hummer. The zombies seemed confused. Many of the creatures were set on escape, rather than dinner. Miller and Alex jogged away from the opening in the fence. Together they headed into the zombie enclosure, fighting and kicking and killing. They were soon well on their way to the center of the base.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CRYSTAL PALACE
Alex shot a dead child in the head. He tried to act callous but winced a bit. He pointed to his left. “Sheriff, I think that’s a gate.”
Miller encountered a decaying woman in a golf shirt and skirt. She slammed the creature in the head with the butt of her rifle, skillfully saving another bullet. “It had better be a way out. We’re getting buried by the unburied here.”
They were both panting. Even at their super speed, dodging and killing doze
ns of zombies had taken a lot out of them. Miller figured Rat, once she got mobile, wouldn’t need more than ten minutes at the base to mount a deadly response. They didn’t have much time.
Alex had found a way out.
Miller studied their next problem. A stout chain and a pair of large padlocks secured the gate. Without hesitating, Miller shot the locks away with her rifle. She figured it was a good use for some of their remaining ammunition. After the third round, the old locks came apart. Alex watched and nodded approvingly. He threw a metal trashcan at two pursuing zombies to buy them time. Miller kicked the gate open.
“How are we going to be sure enough these smelly bastards actually follow us all the way into the base?”
Miller closed her eyes. She was in physical pain. The persistent, macabre voices of the undead were still loud and clear and burning a hole in her mind. “You let me worry about that part of it, Alex. Let’s head for that small outbuilding.”
Miller turned to face the remaining zombies, who were flowing out of the corral and out onto the base. She reckoned there were only a couple hundred at most. Those who’d gone the other way were now wandering aimlessly among the scrub. That part was fine. Miller only needed a diversion, not a wholesale slaughter. She and Alex ran for the outbuildings. The sky above them was darkening and the wispy clouds were sprinkled with the faint glow of evening stars.
The horde of zombies following them was hungry, angry, and out for vengeance. Miller knew that their rage was growing. Somehow they sensed that Crystal Palace was the source of their suffering. Their individual brains were weak and virtually useless. In triads they could just function, set traps and kill. But as a group mind, they had become dangerously close to intelligent. Not quite there yet, but damn close.
Miller had no way of knowing if her idea would work, but figured if she could feel their anger and frustration, then maybe the zombies could also feel hers. She concentrated on all the sorrow, anger, heartbreak, frustration, fear, and unabashed hunger that she had felt nearly every moment since the first night of the apocalypse, and then she channeled that toward the zombies like a clarion call. The monumental effort gave her a searing pain behind her eyes, but Miller ignored it. Whatever the zombies felt while existing in a dead body was a thousand times worse. She needed them to listen to her, connect with her, support her.