Zombie Fallout | Book 14 | The Trembling Path

by Tufo, Mark

  He was at the rear of the store in under four minutes and radioed Mr. T of that fact. He was mildly surprised that the door was unlocked. It was an oversight, if someone was indeed inside. He was cautious as he entered; he needed to be. His quarry were likely trained military personnel and where he couldn’t die by most traditional methods, a bullet to the brain is a surefire way to stop any monster.

  The back area was a disaster. Looters had pulled shelves over and stolen most of the stock. He had to pick his way slowly through the debris, not wanting to step on a phone case and give his position away. He could smell them: four people, three of them male. One hadn’t showered in days, another had sprayed on a body scent; it did little to cover the fear pheromones emanating from him. The swinging door to the front was closed. Tommy approached slowly to look through the small window. The woman was peeking through a knothole in the wooden plywood coverings, her rifleman next to her. Another operated the radio while the fourth, the nervous one, paced across the room.

  “That was Talbot,” he’d said for seemingly the fifth time. If the responses from the group he was with were any indication.

  “We get it, Fernandez. Stop your bellyaching. He’s a man, just like the rest of us,” the radio operator said. “My guess is he’s less manly than Dreller over there.” The woman didn’t turn from her position but gave him the finger.

  “Hey Banner, let Nebula know our sitrep,” Dreller said.

  “On it. Nebula…Nebula, this is Vapor. Repeat—this is Vapor.”

  “This is Nebula, Vapor, go.”

  “Nebula, Bandit and Pirate went in with Constellation, Pirate left on his own. Want to confirm our orders.”

  “Vapor this is Nebula. Orders remain the same, out.”

  “Shit, man! They want us to kill them? His men will be all over us!” Fernandez picked up his pace, kicking random items out of his way as he did so.

  “They’re raiders, not wraiths,” Banner said.

  “Little do they know.” Tommy had a lopsided grin. To look closely, though, one would have realized it carried no mirth within it.

  “We only kill him if he has Deneaux. No way Wassau is going to let her go. He doesn’t want any more people killed,” Dreller said.

  Tommy took a step back as the force of the words struck him. The only way Wassau could know people were going to get killed was if he was in on it. Is that why he downed nearly half a bottle of whiskey before giving his okay? Deneaux either had him in her magnetic grip or repulsive vise, either tended to put you in harm’s way. He could just as easily have told Mike what was going on; that he’d chosen not to was telling.

  “I have to piss.” Fernandez was heading for the door, too close and moving too fast for Tommy to sufficiently hide. He stepped behind the swinging door. The room was dark enough and Fernandez was distracted enough, that he never noticed him.

  “He’s gonna run,” the rifleman said.

  “No way; I want in on that action. Six-pack says he comes back.” Banner stood to go and shake the other’s hand. “Got you now, Edmonds. He might be scared of Talbot, but he’s terrified of Deneaux. Where the fuck is he gonna go if he leaves us?” They shook, completing the bet.

  Tommy followed Fernandez outside. The man, if he was going to run, had not done so yet as he fished in his pants for an appendage that appeared to want as little to do with this whole affair as the rest of him. Tommy used the car antenna like a switch, striking hard against the back of the man’s thighs. His leg gave way and he was in the middle of a cry when Tommy clamped a powerful hand over his mouth.

  “Do you wish to live through the day?”

  The man regained his senses after the initial pain and terror, and nodded.

  “I’m going to remove my hand. You cry out, and I’ll snap your neck. Believe me?”

  The man nodded again. Tommy eased his grip but kept his hand close in case.

  “You…you’re pirate.” Fernandez had turned slightly.

  “It would be a good day for you if that was all I was. I’m going to ask some questions. You answer quickly and truthfully and you can run away to whatever hiding spot you choose. We clear?”

  Again, Fernandez nodded.

  “Wassau. Is he in on it?”

  The door to the back of the store slammed open. “You better still be here, Fernan…what the fuck?” Banner asked. “What are…”

  Tommy shoved Fernandez hard against the wall, his face making first contact it made a sickening crunch sound as his facial bones broke.

  Banner had let the door close behind him; it was then he realized his mistake, as Tommy lunged and swung; the tip of the antenna, moving at over a hundred miles an hour, sliced neatly through the side of his face and deep into his right eye. Blood began to pour forth before he could even get his hands up to protect the injury. Banner’s mouth opened in preparation for a scream; Tommy shoved the antenna as far into the opening as he could, only meeting resistance as he pressed into the back of the man’s esophagus then punching through. Gurgling cries for help tightly wrapped themselves around the thin piece of metal.

  Tommy placed his hands against each side of the man’s head and, with a savage twist of his arms, snapped Banner’s neck. He spiraled to the ground, dead before he made contact. He went and checked on Fernandez.

  “Tommy, what the hell is going on?” Mike asked as he left the cell area. “Is Wassau in on what?”

  “I was going to ask, but it seems I may have pushed him too hard.” Cold, flat eyes stared back as he turned the body over. “Two down, two to go, and they’re here to make sure Deneaux doesn’t go anywhere.”

  “Be careful.”

  Tommy again made his way inside.

  “Those two must be jerking each other off.” Dreller still had not moved.

  Tommy had taken his pistol out; Edmonds stiffened as he saw the man come through the door. Tommy shook his head.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Edmonds said to Dreller.

  “What’s the matter? Banner and Fernandez decide to split their winnings?”

  He tapped her shoulder and pointed.

  “Son of a bitch.” She spun and was reaching for her weapon.

  “Don’t,” Tommy warned. She did not heed his advice. He neatly placed a bullet in her sternum.

  “That’s it?” she questioned then fell over. Edmonds, shaking, had his hands up in the air.

  “Step away from your rifle.”

  Edmonds did as he was told. He kept looking over Tommy’s shoulder.

  “Banner and Fernandez aren’t coming to help, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

  “Dead?” Edmonds asked.

  Tommy did not reply.

  “You fuck!” Edmonds made an effort to grab his rifle. Tommy’s bullet struck high up on the man’s shoulder and plunged into his scapula before making a ridge in his clavicle, exiting, then entering back in, midway up Edmond’s neck. Blood ran out like a plug had been pulled in a bathtub.

  “Hearing some shots…you need help?” Mike asked.

  “Taken care of. There’s a problem, though.”

  “Tell me.” Mike was apprehensive.

  “I tried to save two for questioning; it didn’t work out.”

  “It didn’t work out? This isn’t like a fallen soufflé, Tommy.”

  “I get that Mr. T, it just happened.”

  “Alright, good job, come on back over. I want to get her out of here in case they send some people to investigate or there’s a shift change.”

  “You mad?”

  “You just saved my life. How could I be mad?”

  16

  Mike Journal Entry 13

  I poked my head into the back area. “Be right back. Get your traveling shoes on.” I went into the front; thought I could hear light snoring coming from Wassau’s office. Grabbed a pair of handcuffs from a peg on the far side of the room. I went back and opened up Deneaux’s cell.

  “You have no idea how this makes me feel inside. Like…let me think…a super
Christmas. I’m eight; it’s Christmas Day, and I’m up at the North Pole celebrating with Santa. It’s just like that.” I wrenched her arms up and applied the cuffs.

  “Is this necessary? What am I possibly going to do?”

  “Necessary? No, I wouldn’t say that. Satisfying, yeah, that it fucking is. Stand up.”

  I was heading for the door.

  Wassau’s door opened up. “Talbot.”

  Deneaux shot the man a look. Had her eyes been loaded, they would have sent him sprawling.

  “Yeah.” I turned to him.

  “Good luck.” He was shutting his door.

  Deneaux was going toward the front on her own.

  Wassau opened his door quickly and blurted out. “Aw, fuck it. Don’t go out there with her.”

  “Huh?”

  “Not another word,” Deneaux fairly hissed. “You know what’s at stake.”

  “He might, I don’t have a clue,” I said.

  “Then you should feel right at home,” Deneaux told me.

  “She’s got people across the street.”

  “You’re as good as dead,” Deneaux told Wassau.

  “I’ve been dead for a long while now. Maybe it’s time to start living.”

  “Philosophy won’t stop the blade that slices your neck,” Deneaux told him.

  “Thank you for the heads up. We’re still heading out.”

  “Did you not hear me?” he asked.

  “I heard you fine and dandy; the threat’s been neutralized.”

  Deneaux stiffened.

  “Oh, it’s true, baby. You’re mine. And if you think Elmyra was tough on her pets, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

  “Elmyra?” Tommy asked as he walked in.

  “Didn’t you ever watch cartoons?” He shook his head. “Little girl?” His head was still shaking. “Loved her pets, squeezed the living hell out of them?”

  “Mr. T, can we maybe agree on the fact I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

  “Seriously? Doesn’t everyone know about her? Normally that would make me feel old, you know, referencing things from my youth, but, well, you’re you and all. You sure we’re good?” I asked as he opened the door back up.

  “Maybe lead with her,” Tommy told me.

  “Comforting.” But I did just that. If someone was going to take a shot at me and potentially going to kill me, I was going to make it as difficult a shot as possible, and maybe luck would take her out as well. I shoved her ahead of me; her eyes went straight for the cell store. The Hummer was twenty feet away—felt like a mile and a half. I was reasonably certain there was not another gunman, but that’s something you want to be a hundred percent sure of, not just “reasonably.”

  No red dots on my chest, no suppressed rounds fired into a wall near my head, no grenades lobbed nearby; so far so good. We got into the Hummer without anything untoward happening. I was about to start the vehicle when I had second thoughts.

  “Any chance there’s a bomb underneath?” I was looking at Deneaux.

  She looked incredibly pissed; that wouldn’t last long. She’d quickly go straight into salvage and save mode. Being blown up wasn’t part of her itinerary. We left without further incident.

  Our guest looked like she’d swallowed one of Deneaux’s lit cigarettes when we brought the kingpin in.

  “Oh, look, I think they’re friends,” I said when I witnessed the reaction. “Grimm, can you round up Rose for me?”

  I pushed Deneaux into an office. “Your new home.” There was an old office chair that mice had rid of cushioning years previously and an industrial metal desk that would have made any inhabitant of Mother Russia proud. There was one small window, high up on the wall. Deneaux could potentially squeeze through, if she would indignantly lower herself to a common jailbreak.

  “There’s no bed.”

  “Sucks for you.” I undid one cuff and with some finagling, managed to get one attached to the frame of the desk and the body.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  “Don’t go anywhere.” I closed the door behind me as I left.

  “You needed me, sir?” Rose looked like she’d just been awakened from a nap.

  “We’ve got Deneaux.”

  That perked her up.

  “There’s a window.”

  “Say no more.” She was excited.

  “Could I maybe explain what I want?”

  She nodded.

  “I’d like….”

  “A device rigged so that if she tries to go out or someone tries to come in, it explodes.”

  “That’ll work.”

  “I can also fit her with a vest that will explode if she leaves the area.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Advanced explosives 301.”

  “Rose, if we ever have issues, could you let me know before it becomes a larger problem?”

  “Relax, sir. I’ve only blown up two, no, three, of my commanders before, and they totally deserved it. I’ll have the room and her fixed up in a couple of hours.” She bolted back up the stairs. She had to sidestep Autumn, who was coming down. The young woman looked washed out; I knew that face all too well.

  “She’s here?” Autumn asked.

  “She is,” I told her.

  “I’d like to see the woman that had my boyfriend killed.”

  “I don’t think that’s wise, not right now.”

  “Are you afraid I’ll kill her?”

  “Not at all; I’m afraid what killing her might do to you.”

  “She in there?” She was pointing to the door I was standing next to.

  Tommy was watching me to see what I would do. I reached over and turned the knob.

  “Changed your mind?” Deneaux asked.

  Autumn strode purposefully over, pulled her hand back somewhere to Chicago and let it fly; the resounding smack echoed within the antechamber. Deneaux’s face immediately blossomed a fiery red.

  Autumn bent down so that she was peering directly into the other woman’s eyes. She said nothing as she stood and walked past me. Deneaux looked to be in shock. Not sure how many had ever treated her that way, and of those few, how many were still alive?

  “Bet that stings.” I closed the door.

  By now, BT had come downstairs. “I realize you’re supposed to keep your enemies close, but I don’t think that's a literal thing.”

  “I want back in,” Autumn expressed.

  I looked to each member of the squad who was down there at the moment. Each nodded in turn.

  “Done,” I told her.

  “Thank you.” She headed back upstairs; wouldn’t doubt she was going to look for an ice pack for her hand. That slap hurt me, and I wasn’t even part of it.

  “You get anything from her?” I was referring to our first prisoner.

  Kirby shook his head. “She won’t even tell me if she likes ice cream.”

  I didn’t want to know how that line of questioning came up. “Going to give you a lesson, Mystery Guest. This is the person you’re protecting.” I again opened the door. Deneaux flinched, maybe expecting another victim to exact a small measure of revenge. “I’ll get you a blanket if you tell me her name.”

  “Lieutenant Sandra Peterson.”

  “Kirby, go find me the most tattered, stinking, rat feces encrusted blanket you can.”

  “On it.”

  “So, Lieutenant Peterson, I’d like to say it’s nice to meet you, but I can’t. Which key information about you will she give up for a smoke?” I closed the door. Peterson sagged in her chair. “Oh, don’t take it too hard. She’s fucked over everyone in this room. Some, like myself, multiple times. It’s not even her second nature at this point; it's just who she is. You can sit there all silent and stoic until the end of time. Or for the next ten minutes, anyway, because I’m going to trade her one smoke for each name of someone you care about that she gives up. Right now, you’re thinking, ‘Oh, I’m fine, we never discussed things on a personal level, she doesn’t know
anything, I’ve only ever met her at the Villain Conventions, and only in passing as we walked past the Torture Tools booth.’”

  “The fuck is wrong with you?” BT whispered.

  “Making a point. That point being, Lieutenant Peterson, she knows all the relevant things about you that she needs. Where to press, who to hurt to make you do things you wouldn’t necessarily or normally do. And again, you’re like, ‘Oh, but I’m doing this ill-advised incredibly stupid and just downright, fucking idiotic shit on my own! She doesn’t need to force me into anything!’ What happens, though, Lieutenant, is that sometimes some of her minions peek behind the curtain and see the flames and pestilence she spreads wherever she goes and they have reservations or concerns. Who knows? Maybe you’re into the Four Horsemen shit, maybe you starred on the My Strange Fetish TV show and would follow her to hell on the back of the train she’s conducting. That could be the case, I don’t know you. But if there’s anything resembling humanity in that shell of yours, eventually you would come to the realization that she’s a narcissistic, war-mongering piece of shit who would sell out anyone for even the most minimal of gains. At that point, she’ll pull out something to threaten you with. Still nothing?”

  “Hard to believe there are people thicker than you, Talbot.” BT had sat down and was carving an apple into slices.

  “I’ll admit, she’s taught me some hard lessons. Most were begrudgingly done. I’m telling you this, Peterson, this is the can of worms you opened, not me. And I don’t give two fucks that I have to get down to her level to accomplish what needs to be done. To kill a snake, you need to look down first. When I get those names, you can be assured I’m going after them.”

  It was the first break in her stalwartness I’d seen since she’d been here.

  “By my reckoning, you have eight minutes before her nicotine craving starts to motivate her into talking.”

  “I need a cigarette!” Deneaux bellowed.

  “Damn. My calculations were way off. I guess if you’ve been smoking since prohibition, you want your fucking stick when you want your fucking stick.” I went for the door handle.