The Dying of the Light (Book 2): Interval
Page 39
We moved forward slowly, walking death up the mountain as the guns tracked back and forth. As we approached the last turn before the long road leading to the entrance, I saw the RV that we’d come to realize was likely Beoshane’s command post, off to one side. We were closing in on it.
Looking down at the monitors, I saw the Humvees behind us had begun firing as well, taking out stragglers or others who came in range. To my surprise, everyone obeyed my instructions and stayed in the vehicles. We kept in motion, the bigger vehicles that we were encountering now taking more force to push out of the way. As we came even with the relatively untouched RV, a warning sounded from my console, and I looked down to find that we were running low on ammo. Hardly a surprise at the rate we were using it, but unfortunate, regardless.
“Humvees One to Three, secure the RV. No one in or out. The rest of you, follow us on up.” My monitors showed me the first three Humvees breaking off to surround the RV, their machine guns swiveling to cover its entrance, while the others covered the flanks and watched out for stragglers. “Floor it, Gunny,” I said, and felt a surge as we sped up. At this point, damage to the Stryker was the least of our concern.
“Hold on, sir! Big truck up ahead.”
We swerved suddenly to the right, then back left and there was a huge crash that rocked us back for a moment. Glancing at the view from outside, I saw what Gaines had done—come at the big truck from an angle, and given the power he was using…
It didn’t take long for the Stryker to push the truck over the edge of the road to go tumbling down over the rocks and mountainside below. There was a muffled thump as its gas tank blew, sending blazing metal over twenty feet into the air.
The Strykers’ guns fell silent suddenly, and I merely confirmed my suspicion with the console—they’d run out of ammo. The road widened a bit up ahead, and an idea occurred to me.
“Hummers Four and Five, come up on our flanks. Four, watch that drop on the left. It’s a long way down.”
The next two vehicles came up on our sides, their guns still chattering and thumping. The carnage was unimaginable. People were blown apart left and right, arms and legs torn off by the large-caliber rounds spit out by the machine guns. Somewhere, they broke, and began screaming and running past us, trampling their fellows to get away. They’d had enough, and it was time to let them go. Who knows how many hundreds we’d killed. I felt sick.
“Cease fire, cease fire, cease fire,” I said into the radio, and the guns went silent, with only an occasional shot fired, likely in self defense. Once we’d confirmed that all the zealots were gone—or at least, the living ones—I opened the back of the Stryker and climbed out, holding on tight to the handle as my foot slid as I stepped down. I tried not to think about why it had done that, and I damned sure didn’t look down, even though I had to be careful with every step I took. The ground was slick with blood and… I shuddered and stopped thinking about it.
“Gunny, secure the area. Tom, you’re with me.”
Marcie waved as Tom and I approached the RV. “No movement, sir. No one’s gone in or out.”
“Good job, Marcie.” I glanced over at Tom, who shrugged, and I took a deep breath and knocked on the RV door.
The voice was deep, booming even, and not what I’d expected. It said, “One moment, please.”
“You will come out, unarmed, slowly, and with your hands raised, in the next thirty seconds or we will destroy the trailer,” I replied.
There was a short laugh from inside. “I believe you. Coming out now.”
The door handle dipped down, and very slowly, the door opened. Tom and I stood to either side, our pistols drawn and the three Humvees covering us, besides. This fucker is going exactly nowhere, I thought.
As the door opened wider, I got my first up-close look at Arthur Beoshane, and I was unimpressed. He stepped down from the RV, his hands raised, wearing only an undershirt and boxers. I wasn’t the only one who had to stop a sudden crazy giggle.
“I took the liberty of disrobing before exiting, so that you could see that I am unarmed.”
“‘Naked before your Lord’ sort of thing, then?” Marcie asked, her voice dripping with scorn. “Think that makes it all all right, do ya?”
“Marcie,” I said over my shoulder, and she harrumphed but stayed quiet. “Arthur Beoshane, you are under arrest for crimes against… well, for crimes against humanity.”
“Crimes against humanity? You’ve murdered hundreds of innocent souls today, and I’m the one on trial? You should kneel before God and ask him for forgiveness.”
“Spare me the God-talk, Art. You’re no more a believer in that than Driebach is. You can’t be, not with the things you’ve done. Or if you are, then I damn sure don’t want to meet or even hear about your God.”
If he had suddenly been showered with manna from Heaven, I don’t think Beoshane could have been more surprised than he was in that moment. “You know about Driebach?”
“We know all about Driebach, and Dagger, and the rest of your little—”
“I don’t know who Dagger is, but I can tell you the rest of it. All of it. There’s a weapon—”
My radio flared, and Kim’s voice was in my ear, the sweetest sound I’d heard in days. “Stow it, Art,” I said, turning and walking a few paces up the mountain. “Go ahead, Kim.”
“What’s the situation? We saw the zealots leaving. Is that you out there with Beoshane?”
I waved for the cameras that I knew were pointed my way. “You bet, babe. We got him.”
“What about Driebach?”
“I was just getting to that. He says he can tell us—”
“Look out!” she yelled, just as shots rang out from behind me and a bloodcurdling scream split the air. I spun around and saw Reynolds pumping round after round into bloody, dirty forms that were running up the mountain, the other Humvees doing the same.
Arthur Beoshane was down on the slippery ground, shoving a now-still form off of him. I ran to reinforce Reynolds, and we soon had taken out the last of them.
“Cover us,” I yelled to Marcie, and she nodded without taking her eyes off the road. I motioned to Reynolds and he joined me as I walked over to where Beoshane lay sitting up against the wheel of the RV, one hand holding his side. I pointed at him, and Reynolds covered him with the pistol as I squatted to turn over the body that had lain atop him.
“David? David! Are you OK?” Kim’s voice came from my radio, and I dialed the volume down a couple notches.
“I’m fine, Kim. Bad news, though.”
“What is it?”
“We’ve got runners here.”
Everyone fell silent, except for Beoshane, who moaned softly. I turned to him and moved to pull his hand from his side, but he resisted. Reynolds stepped closer, pressing the gun to Beoshane’s temple, I looked at the wound.
“Bite marks,” I said aloud, and Beoshane turned to the side and moaned.
“Shit,” said Kim. “All right, well, neutralize him and let’s be done with this. We need to find Driebach.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m not neutralizing him.” Reynolds looked down at me, and I met him stare for stare. I think he must’ve seen something he didn’t like, and backed away a half-step before he could help himself. Then, glancing over at Beoshane and back to me, he nodded, once.
“Sorry, Art, old buddy,” I said, standing once more and wiping my hands on my pants. “Looks like today just isn’t your day.”
“David,” said Kim from my radio, and I took the earpiece out and turned it off. Reynolds didn’t even glance my way this time.
“You can’t leave me here,” Beoshane said. “Not like this. End it.”
I shook my head. “No. You murdered hundreds of people, maybe thousands. Not by your own hand, but you sent them to their deaths knowingly, and that’s worse. You don’t deserve the mercy of a quick death, and I damn sure won’t be the one to grant it to you.”
“I’ll j
ust turn,” Beoshane cried out desperately. “You’ll just have to kill me anyway, eventually.”
I turned and started walking away. “No, we won’t. There’s a whole flood of walkers less than a minute away. They’ll be gnawing on your bones before you get a chance to turn, and there won’t be enough of you left to reanimate.”
Now I was just being cruel. But the truth was that he deserved every bit of what was about to happen, plus getting to look forward to it.
“Tom, get these people in gear. I want to be inside the bunker before the rest of the walkers show up.”
“Yes, sir,” I heard him say.
When I climbed back into the Stryker, Gaines was looking at me. “What?” I asked him, and he just shook his head slowly and turned around, starting the engine once more. I secured the hatch and sat down at the console inside. “Let’s go,” I said, and our column was soon moving again.
We had just rolled up to the electrified fence when I heard the scream over the radio. “Oh, my God, it’s got Marcie, it’s attacking them!” There was more yelling and screaming, and though I tried clearing the channel, the radio was useless.
Gaines, however, had his Bluetooth active and hadn’t just pissed off his wife. “Sasha says something has attacked the last vehicle! She has no shot.” It only took a glance to Gaines before he and I were running back down the column of vehicles, skidding to a stop as we got to the last one and the barrel of the .50-caliber machine gun swiveled my way. I swallowed hard and exchanged glances with Gaines.
Driebach had finally made his appearance.
He was holding young Marcie Thompson, the McMurdo refugee, between himself and the armored cowling of the Humvee. I could see blood on the inside windshield of the vehicle, but Marcie appeared to be uninjured.
“Now, now, Mr. Blake,” croaked the monster. “Is that any way to greet a guest? Weapons down, if you please.”
“That’s not happening, Driebach.”
“Ah, so it seems you are acquainted with me, as well. That is, perhaps, unsurprising.” He moved slightly, brushing the girl’s dark hair back from her neck, revealing a long graceful neck and the horror that was Driebach’s face. For once, he seemed to have forgone the trademark black clothing and switched to camouflage, which explained why we hadn’t seen him. “Still, weapons down, or I’ll snap her neck.”
“Marcie,” I said, looking at the girl. “Are you OK?”
Before she could answer, Driebach twisted her arm behind her, and she cried out. “I assure you, Mr. Blake, she is relatively unharmed. Though if you do not put your weapons down, she will not remain that way.” He grinned that ghoulish grin of his and licked her neck. I’m sure he did it just for the sake of creeping us all out, but it served its purpose.
“All right, all right,” I said, lowering my weapon. Several others had piled out of their own vehicles, and I waved them back. “Get back! Nobody shoots!” Gaines lowered his own weapon, though he didn’t drop it.
“Good, good,” said Driebach. “You’re displaying a modicum of intelligence. More than I can say for him,” he said, nodding towards Beoshane’s trailer. “Tell me, have you met my employer as of yet?”
“Beoshane? Oh, yes, yes, I have. We had a nice little chat just now.”
“Ah. And does he survive?”
“Yes and no. A runner bit him.”
“Nasty things, runners. I’ve killed more than a few myself. But you said ‘yes and no.’ Am I to presume you let him live with the bite?”
“You are. He asked for mercy, but I chose not to grant it.”
“Hardly surprising, given the circumstances.”
“So what’s the play here, Driebach? Take the Humvee and split?”
“In a nutshell, yes. Unfortunately, the occupants of this particular vehicle chose to put up something of a fight. I find myself somewhat badly injured.” He turned slightly, and I could see what passed for his blood dripping down his side. “They were rather handy with a knife, as it turned out. This one, however,” he said, running a hand over Marcie. “This one I will keep alive. You will provide me with sustenance for weeks, my dear. Tell me, do you know just how much blood is in a human body?”
Marcie shivered, but didn’t cry out. One tough chick, I thought. “You’re in something of a sticky wicket, old chum,” I said, mimicking the hundreds of English books I’d read and actors I’d watched. “You’re out of options, here.”
“I hardly think so. You and your cohorts will back off, and I will drive away. Or she will die.”
“But don’t you see, dear boy, you’ve given yourself away,” I said, drawing my sidearm and pointing it not at Driebach, but instead at Marcie. I heard more than one gasp behind me.
Gaines whispered, “Uh, David…”
I shook my head without ever taking my eyes off Driebach. “Your problem here is that you’ve told us what you intend for Ms. Thompson. More importantly, you’ve told her.”
“I fail to see the connection.”
“It’s quite simple, really. But of course, you wouldn’t see, being what you are.” I glanced at the girl. “Tell me something, Marcie: would you rather I just shoot you now?”
She nodded. “Hell, yes.”
Driebach licked his lips, seeing the problem.
“So you see, monster, you have no leverage here. She’s not going with you.” I thumbed back the hammer on my pistol and took careful aim.
“Just… just wait!” Driebach said, his raspy voice breaking. “I may have another solution.”
“I’m listening.”
“In exchange for my freedom, I will tell you everything I know of Beoshane, McMillan, and their plot.”
“Intriguing offer.”
“I thought so,” the monster said, tilting his head to one side a moment later. “But it seems you may not have long to consider, Mr. Blake. My… cousins… approach.”
Gaines held up a hand to his ear and looked over at me. “Walkers, sir. There’s… there’s hundreds coming, sir.”
I looked back over at Driebach, who smiled that ghastly smile once more. “As I said, not much time, Mr. Blake.”
I turned and looked down the mountain and out over the remains of the city. It didn’t take me long to make up my mind, though. Idle contemplation was not something the new world we lived in engendered. “Get some chains from the Stryker, Gunny. We’re taking him with us.”
“Yes, sir.”
Soon enough, Driebach was trussed like a Christmas ham, lying on the floor of the Stryker as we maneuvered through the gates and into the vehicle elevator. I glanced up as we sank below ground once more, and took my last deep breath of clean mountain air. Squaring my shoulders, I plugged the earpiece back into my ear and turned on my radio.
Time to go back in.
Chapter Twenty-four
As I entered Ops, I expected to see Kim, but she wasn’t there. While looking around, my gaze landed on the monitors on the wall, I and was startled by what I saw. I’d seen herds of walkers before, but never on this scale. The sheer number of zombies reminded me of the runways at LAX, the first time we’d landed there with the C-5. The main difference being that these were moving, and moving up, toward us. The only saving grace we had was that many were falling to the ground, biting and clawing and tearing at the bodies of those who had fallen to our guns, earlier in the day. Fortunately, not many of those had lived to be aware of this gruesome fate.
There was one, though.
“Captain Potter, do you have eyes on Beoshane?” I asked, but then Kim and Governor Gates and her husband Daniel entered the room behind me.
I rushed over to Kim, ignoring everyone and everything else, and we shared a long, emotional kiss, to the cheering of the Ops personnel and, to my surprise, Daniel. I held my wife close, something I’d thought several times I might not ever get to do again. She was crying, I was crying, even Gates was getting a bit misty, and I just kept hugging Kim again and again. Finally, we were able to let go, though I held onto her hand for dear l
ife, and she held mine back just as tight.
Captain Potter coughed, and we turned to look at him, laughing a little. “Yes, Captain?” Kim asked.
“I have Beoshane, ma’am. If you wanted to see. Mr. Blake asked me to look.”
With only a slight hesitation, Kim wiped her eyes with her free hand and nodded. “Yeah, bring it up on the big monitor, please.”
“Jenkins, you heard the lady,” said Potter.
“Yes, sir.”
Moments later, Arthur Beoshane filled the video screen as he dragged himself toward the door of the RV. We watched as he managed to swing the door wide, struggling to pull himself inside. Potter’s voice was low in our ears as he commented. “ETA ten seconds at his position, ma’am. He’s not going to make it inside.”
Kim squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. She started to issue an order—one I felt sure would be to our snipers in the tower to neutralize him—but then she just shook her head. “I won’t make him a martyr or a savior or even a hero,” she said.
Though I agreed with her, I knew that had been a hard concession to make for her. She wasn’t the hard, cold, bloodthirsty bastard I’d apparently turned into. At least, not usually. We watched as the zombies finally caught up with Beoshane’s RV, and saw him trying to shut the door against them, a futile gesture not only for its slim chance of success, but also because, having been bitten, he would be one of them soon enough anyway.
Now, as the walkers converging on him mercifully blocked our detailed view of the proceedings, he was meeting his fate a bit earlier than perhaps he’d hoped. “Justice is served,” I said. Something inside me, some core of dark, grisly humor forced me to laugh, a short, sharp bark. “So to speak.”
“Blackhawk on station and firing, ma’am,” said Potter, and I glanced at one of the other monitors, showing our one Blackhawk helicopter hovering over the mountain road, its M134 Miniguns raining final death on the zombies from above at more than two thousand rounds per minute. Once the zealots had fled, Kim had ordered the launch of the chopper to support the defense against the zombies.