by White, Ben
"—already asleep. He must have been exhausted. Poor boy."
Imogen was surprised to hear Cheena speak like that—even more surprised at how soft her voice could be. She wanted to look back, to see if her cold mask might have softened too, but the way Zed was carrying her made that impossible. He chuckled.
"What?" Imogen snapped.
"I was just thinking, out of any of us to leave behind, surrounded by who the hell knows how many zombies, I'd bet on Jen to get through it. Ain't no tooth or claw gonna get through that costume of hers."
"She wasn't wearing her helmet, though," Imogen said, her voice low. "Or her blaster."
"Hell, long as she keeps her head, I reckon she'll keep her head." Zed laughed at his own joke. "Heh, keep her head by keeping her head, that's funny."
Imogen rolled her eyes, but no one saw.
The entrance shone like something precious, a soft green gleam that spoke of hidden comforts and safe passage.
"Hot DOG, we got us a weiner!"
"I don't know about this," HK said, as they all headed towards the entrance—Zack was still on Chris's back, snoring quietly, and Imogen was still enduring the indignity of being carried by Zed—for the sake of my leg, she kept telling herself, ONLY for the sake of my leg. "We could just find a safe building—"
"Safe? SAFE?" Zed roared with laughter—Imogen winced; up close his laughing was even more obnoxious. "Hell, I'll tell you what's safe, son, 'safe' is getting to my truck and having my M1 in my hands and a bulging bagful of thirty-aught-six at my side, that's your 'safe'. Now I reckon this here entrance is gonna take us straight to Grove Station, because I'm damn near certain the track's just over yonder. All we gotta do is head on down here, walk our way along some beautifully lit underground passages, and I reckon we're home free."
The stairs led down into a series of short, narrow corridors which in turn led to a wide thoroughfare—Imogen couldn't help but notice that it was a lot nicer than the underground near the main station. Hardly any of the shops were shuttered, and most were brightly lit—although the lighting in the thoroughfare was chemical, the shops all had electric lights, and none of them were so much as flickering.
"All right now," Zed said, and to Imogen's relief he put her down. "Reckon we're out of trouble now, and to tell the truth my back's petitioning me for extradition." To illustrate this he stretched back and groaned in painful relief. "Woo-yeah, that's a hell of a lot god-damn better. And what's this over here, that looks like a god-damn map! Hell and damn, we've got some luck right here!"
"Grove Station," Null said, pointing to a spot on the map. "It's close."
"Hot damn." Zed's grin was almost scary. "Reckon all we gotta do is head along this way and we're as good as there!" He glanced over at Chris. "Fancy-Pants, how's the little man?"
"Awake," said Chris, as he set Zack down—Zack was blinking and unsteady on his feet, and he accepted his bag back from HK with trembling hands.
"That reminds me," said Zed. "Better get our weapons back, what do you say, Sue?"
Null handed HopeKiller to Imogen with a small smile. "I used your weapon while you were being carried. Interesting design."
Imogen wasn't quite comfortable with Null having used HopeKiller, but she said nothing. Zed wasn't quite so restrained.
"Yeah, that's damned better, DAMNED better, hope there ARE some damned zombies down here—mmm, boy, you know how it is, you know how you don't realise you missed something until you get it back? Damn, if this thing weren't covered in zombie goop I would plant a great big god-damn kiss right on the end."
They'd started walking as Zed had gone through this little reunion routine, and HK looked back at man and baseball bat with pity in his eyes.
"No offence, Zed, but that sounds totally gay."
"Hey now," Zed said, pointing his bat at HK as they walked along, "we got members of the rainbow brigade among us right here and now, so you best be careful what you say, boy."
"No, he's right," Imogen said. "Are you sure you'd never look at a boy?"
Zed looked between HK and Imogen, HK laughing through his nose, Imogen just smiling thinly, and he shook his head, the look of sad confusion on his face almost enough to make Imogen burst out laughing—although she knew if she did it would turn hysterical within seconds.
"Well hell," said Zed. "Hell, a fella tries to do his best, and ... and, hell, I ain't a young man. That's all I got to say, I am not a young man."
Imogen's smile vanished as she looked at her brother. He was staring at the ground as he shambled along, his eyes glassy, his face pale.
"Hey, Zachary," she said. "I'm hungry, give me a chocolate bar. Anyone else want one?"
Zack didn't really perk up as he handed out the candy, but at least he was moving. Imogen took a bite of the bar he'd given her then made a face.
"Ugh, I hate Pinky bars," she said, thrusting the bar at her brother before limping forward again. When she glanced back half a minute later, she saw that he was already halfway through eating it, and that a little colour had come back to his cheeks.
"Whoa now, hold up."
Imogen froze, along with the others. Zed reached up to take off his cowboy hat, revealing short, messy blonde hair beneath.
"Everyone stay still a second," he said, although no one was moving. "Listen. Hear that?"
Imogen strained her ears but couldn't hear anything out of place. From the looks on the others' faces, neither could they.
"Come on now," Zed said, as he put his hat back on. "Ain't nobody ever taught you how to listen before? Close your eyes now, come on. What you gotta do, is you gotta mark all them background noises you ain't even know you're hearing and listen for that one thing that's different—now you've got all of our breathing, you've got that pretty fizzing these lights up here make, you've got that kind of buzzing from the electrical lights in those shops over there ... you got all them? You hear all them?"
Imogen nodded almost imperceptibly. Her eyes were closed and she was frowning in concentration.
"Okay, now you gotta put all those outta your head. You gotta know you're hearing 'em, but at the same time you gotta be hearing that one thing that ain't a part—"
"Movement," Imogen said, opening her eyes. "Zombies." Now that she knew they were there, she could still hear them clearly. Zed grinned at her.
"That's my girl, you got it! Reckon we got deadheads in them there hills."
"I still can't hear anything," Chris said. HK was shaking his head too. Cheena and Null said nothing, but Imogen suspected they'd also failed. Zack was clearly too tired to even think about concentrating. To her surprise, Imogen felt a faint glow of pride; I did something that nobody else could.
"All right now." Zed was over by the wall—there was a break in the shops here, to allow wall space for advertising and a large map of the underground. "We're headed in the right direction at least, that's always heartening to know. From what I can make out of this here map, we got two ways into Grove Station. There's this big wide ol' passage we're standin' in right now, goes straight through them zombies ahead of us and out about a block south of the station. Then we got another one up here, that'd take us through all these littler passages, breaks off here, then puts us right in the heart of the station." He looked around at the others. "Now after all the troubles we've had getting here, I'm a mite bit leery of so-called wide open spaces. Trouble with them is, they tend to get filled up with deadheads pretty damned quick. I say we take the winding road, avoid them zombies up ahead and get ourselves right in the middle of that there station."
"I think this is a good plan," said Cheena. "Narrow corridors may seem dangerous, but it is more difficult for the zombies to surround us there. In the open they have an advantage over us."
The others agreed—except Null, who said nothing. Imogen didn't say anything either, but privately she thought the plan made sense.
"I gotta ask," HK said to Zed, as everyone started walking again, "what are you? Some kind of soldier?"
"Then, uh ... like a sheriff?"
"You want to know what I am? Hell, I'll tell ya but you're gonna be disappointed, 'cos I ain't nothing but a god-damn tour guide."
HK stared at Zed. "You're kidding."
"God's truth, son. Took folks all kinds of places, jungles, hills, bush around here ain't bad."
"Oh, like adventure tours?"
"More like hunting trips," said Zed. "But that's enough about me and my exciting damn life. Reckon we'd best hush up and concentrate on getting where we're going."
The passage was marked on the map as being just up ahead, past more shops. Previously Imogen hadn't paid any attention to these, through a mixture of tiredness, apathy and habit—they were the kinds of expensive clothing and jewellery stores she'd never be able to afford to shop in. Now it was only Zed pointing them out that made her look at them:
"You girls want to pick up a little something for yourselves?"
Cheena half-smiled, Null shook her head, and Imogen ... Imogen actually considered Zed's suggestion seriously. Why not? What's stopping me? I deserve—
But what's the point, she thought. How would jewellery help me? How would a nice dress increase my chances of survival?
"Actually," Zed was continuing, "reckon we could stop a spell in one of these here shops—them zombies up ahead ain't noticed us, we ain't got nothing chasing us ... but nah, we're close now, I reckon we press on, we get through to my truck, then we can all take a good long rest until dawn—gotta wait there for Jen anyway, right Sue?"
It was Chris who replied: "If your truck is even still there." He raised his hands in a defensive gesture. "I'm only saying, somebody could have stolen it, or the building it's in could somehow have been wrecked by the winds—"
"Damn, son, put a little light in your life, hear me? It's gonna be there, I told ya, it's in one of them underground garages."
"As for being stolen," Null added, "I doubt there's anyone left capable of doing so."
Which depressed everyone.
The side passage wasn't much further on, and they reached it before they even saw the zombies ahead—although they could certainly hear them. They weren't purring, but some of them were moving around, the echoing sounds of their shambling eerie in the stillness of the underground.
The new passage was narrow but clear, ramping gradually up, the smooth walls covered with brightly coloured showbills and posters for an upcoming concert that would now never be. There were no zombies, but after they'd turned a corner and made their way through a long, even narrower part of the passage, Imogen became aware of something odd—a single, muffled voice.
"Radio," HK finally said, the word bringing realisation and, to Imogen at least, a sense of relief. The corridor they were in was too echoey to make out words, not until they reached the room the radio was in—it was a wide, high space, with bench seats and a raised area, the shops around much bigger than those they'd left behind—still just clothes and accessory stores, nothing practical or useful. Off to one side of the raised area were several long tables covered in white sheets, and it was on one of these that the radio sat. Zed led them straight past it, not even glancing at the set, and when HK went to say something he looked sharply back at him. Imogen wasn't particularly interested herself—but she couldn't help listening as she limped through the room:
"—control experienced a catastrophic failure, causing the deadly winds. The Chinese Government and Baltic Federation have together pledged eight point four billion dollars as preliminary restitution for the damage caused, and are preparing—"
Another passage, and the radio's broadcast became echoey and indecipherable.
"Dang," Zed muttered, after another few minutes of passages connecting to more passages, "almost wish it weren't so empty. I'm getting all wound up waiting for one o' them deadheads to jump out at us."
"Please don't tempt fate," Chris said. "She is a fickle mistress."
"Hell, you're one to talk."
Half a minute after that they came to a set of stairs leading up, another map beside them.
"Nuh, this ain't it," Zed said, after checking the map. "Matter of fact, we took a wrong turn somewhere, now we're heading away from the station—"
"Well, GREAT," said HK. "How did that happen?"
"Now, now, let's not get ourselves worked up about this, we'll just head on back—"
"Where do these stairs lead?" Imogen asked. "Maybe we—"
"We stick to the plan," Zed said, talking over Imogen and cutting her off. "Head back, turn left here—" he tapped the map "—and get on over to the station."
"It might be more efficient to go overground," Null said, her sharp gaze fixed on the map. "There's another entrance not far from this one; we'd bypass all of these passages."
"I don't want to go back up there if I can help it," HK said. "It feels safer down here."
"I hear that," said Zed. "Sorry, Null, reckon we keep on with the plan."
Five minutes later, Zed had changed his mind.
"Okay," he said, after pulling sharply back from the passage he'd just turned down. "Got kind of a problem up ahead."
Imogen cautiously checked around the corner, along with Cheena and Chris. It extended straight for as long as she could see—which wasn't far, considering it was completely blocked with zombies.
"Clumping," murmured Chris. "And none of them are so much as moving. They're just standing there. Waiting. Utterly silent."
"Dormant," said Null. She was standing and looking down the corridor, apparently unconcerned about being 'spotted'. "A state of torpor. Conserving energy, possibly."
"Energy? Energy?" Zed laughed. "These things don't need no 'energy', honey, they're the walking undead!"
"Everything needs energy," Null said. She turned and started walking back the way they'd come. "And you just attracted their attention."
"Crap," Zed said. "Okay, everyone back down the corridor, guess we're heading up after all."
"What if we led them away?" HK suggested. "Through the corridors—"
"Don't be a fool," Cheena said. "That would be far too risky."
"Girl's right, dude," said Zed. "Maybe if we had a nice open space and some room to move, but not in these damn tight corridors."
By the time they reached the stairs the zombies behind them were out of sight—but their purring was clear and constant.
"Why do they DO that?" HK asked. "Are they talking to each other?"
"Communication," said Null, her tone thoughtful. "Possibly."
"Gonna do something you ain't gonna like now, Sue honey," said Zed. Imogen tensed as he scooped her up—he'd already passed his bat to HK. "Keep a good hold of that there weapon of yours, don't wanna get cut by that dirty damned blade on the end there."
"Young Zachary," Chris said, as Zed started carrying Imogen up the stairs, grunting at the effort, "would you like me to relieve you of your burden?"
Zack was too tired to even nod, and he limply allowed Chris to take his bag.
"I will carry that," Cheena said, snatching the bag from Chris. "You can take the boy. Look at him, he can barely stand."
Zed had stopped halfway up the stairs and was looking back down. "Got a point there, Allecchina. Reckon all of us—"
"Yes, we're tired," HK snapped, "but there are zombies behind us and we're close to where we're going so could we just all keep going? If we stop to rest everything's going to catch up with us. Let's just go. Now."
Zed nodded and continued on up the stairs, and the others came behind, Chris carrying Zack in his arms.
It was dark above ground. The half-moon shone down from above, but those street lights that remained unbroken were flickering and buzzing violently, often going dark for seconds at a time. They'd emerged into a less built-up area than they'd been in before, a wide grassy park to their left and no buildings taller than three storeys across the road to the right. Low purring came
from all around, far and near—they could see the indistinct shapes of a few zombies in the park, and more along the road, but it was clear that there were many more around than could be seen. As they started along the pavement, heading towards where the next entrance to the underground would be, they heard a distant howl.
"Some poor sucker's getting hunted," Zed muttered. He looked down at Imogen, held firm in his arms. "You all right there, Sue?"
Imogen managed a nod.
"There are some ahead," Cheena said, as she walked quickly to the front of the group. "I will clear the way."
"Careful there, honey," said Zed. Cheena glanced back at him, expressionless, then broke into a light run. Within seconds she had closed on the nearest zombie, its head crunching back as her staff slammed up against its chin. Imogen couldn't see much more than that, due to her position being carried and the darkness and distance, but from Zed's low whistles and murmurs of "How 'bout that?" and "Hot damn ..." it was clear that Cheena's performance was impressive.
And then the howling started. First from nearby, in the park, but then from everywhere, all directions, all at once, and where before there had been just a handful of visible zombies now there were dozens, everywhere, and all of them lurching towards the tiny group—
"Aw, hell."
Imogen held on tight to HopeKiller as Zed ran, gripping it as close to the shard as she dared so that it didn't accidentally cut her or the man who was carrying her. Being jolted around in the darkness meant she couldn't see, could only hear the purring and the howling and Zed's breathing, and the shouts of the others—
"Cheena! RIGHT!"
"I see it!"
"Chris, keep up now, don't fall behind!"
"As you wish!"
(Shadows in the park, shadows that moved, shadows that reached out with grasping, twitching claws.)
"HK, yell out!"
"Over here! I had to go around!"
"Keep heading down the road, get down that entrance!"
"Yes SIR!"
"Bugger damn crap bollocks—"
"Mind your language there, Fancy-Pants! Just—shit!"
(The flash of a dead face, eyes bulging, and bone claws so bright in the glow of the moon.)