by Ike Hamill
“At least there’s no train coming,” said Lynne. “Is there?” she laughed.
“I… I don’t see any,” said Carol. “Can we take a break for a second? I need to sit down or something.”
“No, keep moving,” said Lynne. “You stop and we won’t be able to start again—just stay careful. Think about each foot, but stay casual.”
“You sound like an expert,” said Carol. Her voice quavered. “Do you cross narrow bridges much?”
“No,” said Lynne. “These are the things I’m telling myself to keep me going. We’re going to make it. Just remember that. How many steps to the end? What’s your estimate?”
“What?” asked Carol. Lynne’s voice had been carried off by a gust.
“Guess how many steps until we’re there,” said Lynne.
“How many?” asked Carol. Lynne could feel Carol’s arm trembling in her grip.
“No, you guess,” said Lynne.
“Oh,” said Carol. “Four hundred?”
“Good,” said Lynne. She counted off four shuffling steps—“That’s one percent then. Only ninety-nine to go.”
Lynne kept calling out the percentages every four steps until Carol’s arm grew steady. Doing the math helped Lynne stay focused, and calling out the progress seemed to give Carol some hope.
“I’ve got some good news,” Lynne shouted into the wind.
“What’s that?”
“Good news: Marta is definitely on that island,” said Lynne.
“Oh? How can you tell?” asked Carol.
“It’s her light. It’s moving down fast—if she were on the opposite shore it would be holding steady. I think she has to be pretty close, like on this island,” said Lynne.
Carol didn’t respond. Lynne kept counting until she got to two hundred, which was fifty percent.
“Just a few more steps,” said Carol.
“Huh?”
“Just a few more,” Carol repeated louder.
“Oh,” said Lynne. “Then you’re a lousy estimator.”
“Under-promise and over-deliver,” said Carol. Lynne was heartened to hear some confidence in her voice. “There’s a fence,” said Carol.
“Where?”
“Across the tracks,” said Carol.
The fence extended to within a few feet of the rails on either side. Instead of cross pieces, the tracks were supported underneath. As far as the women were concerned, their walkway narrowed down to a couple of thin rails of metal, just inches across and more than four feet between.
“It can’t go across the tracks, how does the train get through?” asked Lynne.
Carol explained the configuration, but Lynne was undaunted.
“So we’ll just sit on the rail and scoot across,” she said. “How bad could it be?”
They found out as soon as Lynne let go of Carol’s arm. Carol lowered herself onto the last tie and straddled the cold rail. She thought it was her nerves that gripped her heart and made her breath come in short gasps. When she felt Marta, a foreign presence, inside her chest, she realized the truth. She tried to gasp out a warning to Lynne, but only a clicking, choking sound would come out, and her struggle for life was swallowed by the wind.
“Carol?” asked Lynne. “Carol?" Lynne fumbled forward and found Carol’s shoulder. She moved her hand over until she found Carol’s neck.
Carol felt her airway release and her heart resume beating. Warmth flushed back through her body again as her pulse returned to normal.
“Oh, god,” said Carol. “You can’t let go again. I think I almost died.”
“I think you’re right,” said Lynne. “I can feel it.”
They moved at a snail’s pace. First Carol scooted forward, propping herself up on her hands. Then Lynne repeated the motion, but kept one hand gripped to Carol’s neck. To balance, they pressed the feet and knees against the side of the support. It was excruciating, cramping work. Before she thought to stop him, Domi moved down the other thin rail. She watched his Sparkle bounce down the metal and hop up on the far side. Lynne envied his speed.
Lynne let out a relieved breath when Carol pulled herself up on the other side. Carol helped Lynne up and they moved to the real walkway on the other side of the gate. This catwalk had a fence and a railing, but it was hard to not walk gingerly, testing each step.
Carol found a flight of stairs and they descended. A dead man’s foot propped open the door at the bottom of the stairs.
“Looks like he was running away from something,” said Carol.
“Domi, wait,” said Lynne. She watched his faint sparkle shoot forward.
“Whatever,” said Carol. “I’m sure your cat will be fine. He always is." She pushed open the door and stepped over the dead man. Carol led Lynne by the hand through the open door. They stepped through onto a metal catwalk with stairs down to the concrete floor. They were in the fuel storage section of the plant where giant bins held the raw materials of combustion. The walls were lined with big windows placed high-up, near the ceiling. Aside from moonlight coming through the windows, the only light was from the dwindling glow of emergency lights. The open space was filled with monstrous shadows and scattered corpses, half-visible in the gloom.
“To the right,” said Lynne.
Carol wanted to go first, so she could see where they were going, but Lynne couldn’t see past Carol’s light to see Marta’s. Instead, Lynne went first but Carol walked right behind her, guiding her by the arms so she could navigate around the equipment. They moved around the big storage containers to where the big boilers sat.
“Is she moving?” asked Carol.
“No,” said Lynne, surprised. “Maybe she doesn’t know we’re here?”
“This is a pretty big open room,” said Carol. “I’d be surprised if she couldn’t hear us.”
“We just want to talk to you,” Lynne shouted. “Can you come here?" She couldn’t see any of the obstacles, only Marta’s glow, which throbbed gently in an irregular sequence.
Lynne kept moving until Marta’s light was as bright as Carol’s or her own. She knew Marta must be close, but their third kept silent.
“Why did you stop?” asked Carol.
“She’s here,” said Lynne. “Marta?”
“Marta? Are you there? It’s me, Marta, Carol Milden? We met in Dr. Abbot’s office. Me and Don met you and… Um… Darren?” asked Carol.
“His name was Daryl,” said Marta.
Carol paused to take in her meaning—“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you?” asked Marta.
“Pardon?” asked Carol.
“Not you,” said Marta, “this one.” She stepped forward, out of the shadow of the turbine. Her face was white in the moonlight. Her eyes looked like black pools—endlessly deep. Carol gasped and took a half-step back.
Lynne pulled Carol forward.
“What do you mean, what am I?” asked Lynne. “What are you?”
“I’m death,” said Marta. “I’m the ending.”
Lynne felt Carol shudder.
“Well I don’t feel ended,” said Lynne.
“Why are you here?” asked Marta.
“We’ll get to that,” said Lynne. “Would you mind not killing Carol here so she can let go of my arms? You’re hurting me with those fingernails,” she said over her shoulder, “and I can’t look directly at you any more—it’s too bright.”
“What does that mean?” asked Marta.
“I’ll tell you, but first just say that you’re not going to end Carol here. You know her from before, right? She’s no threat to you. We’re just here trying to figure out how we can work together to stop Gregory,” said Lynne.
“Okay, I won’t snuff Carol,” said Marta. “Now tell me what you are and what you mean about the brightness.”
“Okay Carol? You can let go now,” said Lynne. “Please let go? Thank you.”
Lynne rolled her shoulders and rotated her neck—“Thank you,” she repeated. “You’re actually a littl
e less bright now. I didn’t notice it before, but when we’re touching, your light is brighter. Both of you.”
“What’s she talking about?” Marta asked Carol.
“She’s blind. All she can see is us and the zombies,” said Carol.
“And Gregory,” said Lynne. “And Domi.”
“You can see Gregory?” asked Marta.
“I could the last time I was with him,” said Lynne.
“Where is he now?” asked Marta.
“I don’t know,” said Lynne. “That’s why we were looking for you. We think that with the three of us together we’ll be able to track him down and stop him.”
“Stop him how?” asked Marta.
“Whatever it takes,” said Lynne.
“Maybe we should join hands?” suggested Carol. “You said that our lights were brighter when we were holding hands, right? Maybe if we all join hands you’ll be able to see him?”
“What did Gregory do to you? Why are you after him?” asked Marta.
“Well, he kidnapped me,” said Lynne, “and tried to hold me hostage. Carol thinks that he’s involved with the kidnapping of her real daughter.”
Marta considered this for a moment before speaking. “I won’t hesitate to take her life if you’re trying to trick me,” she said.
“We’re not,” said Lynne.
“Let’s do this then,” said Marta. She stepped forward and reached in the dark for Lynne’s hand.
“Hey,” said Lynne. “No. That’s not right.”
“What?” asked Marta.
“I can see less when you touch me,” said Lynne. “More when she does.”
“Touch me,” said Carol. “I’m the vessel, remember? Here,” she said and split Marta and Lynne’s hands.
Lynne pulled back but Carol held her grip.
“It’s so bright,” said Lynne. “That definitely did it. Stop, don’t move in front of me. God, even with my eyes closed. The zombies are everywhere.”
“They’re on the island? I can’t feel them,” said Marta.
“No, not on the island, but I can see them on the shore now. Wait,” said Lynne, “what’s that direction.” She pointed with her free hand.
“Water,” said Marta. “That’s what’s in every direction.”
“It’s not the shore though,” said Carol. “I think you’re pointing upstream.”
“Then he’s on the water,” said Lynne. “It makes sense, he’s lower than all the other Sparkle I see. I think Gregory’s on a boat.”
“I would sense him if he were close,” said Marta.
“Let’s go find out who’s right,” said Lynne.
“Can either of you drive a boat?” asked Marta. “I saw one when I walked over here.”
“It’s easy,” said Lynne. “I can show you.”
GREGORY DECODED THE NUMBERS AND STARED at Andrew’s private code. All contingencies had a particular code. The information was the only communication into Gregory’s box. No other transmissions were allowed. An auditory or visual message could easily contain brain-altering stimulus, so they were banned. If someone wanted to get inside the box, they would have to present a public-key encoded message to Gregory’s keypad, and he would decide if the person got in.
This message was special—it showed that Andrew had reached the highest panic level, giving Gregory the opportunity to scramble his emergency escape sequence.
Gregory decided to first hear what Andrew had to say. He punched in the authorization from his decoder.
“Gregory, we’ve got issues,” said Andrew, still in the airlock.
“Come in,” said Gregory. He shut the inner door behind his advisor.
“Power’s out all through the city. We think it’s Marta. She must have taken over the power grid somehow. Local officials can’t raise anyone at the utilities. She could be making her move,” said Andrew.
“So we evacuate?” asked Gregory.
“We should,” said Andrew, “but we can’t raise any of the extraction teams. No response. The only team I’ve got contact with is the shore team at the venue. They’re holding their own, but they’re being swarmed by undead.”
“Zombies? Really? I thought they were peaceful,” said Gregory.
“So did everyone. Well, so does everyone—all the outlets are still reporting that the zombies are totally placid. We might be the only target,” said Andrew.
“So what’s the plan?” asked Gregory.
“I’d like to move us casual and slow, right down the river. We’ll make Ohio in no time, and as soon as I can get a team together, we’ll move from there. If we don’t make a big fuss then I think we’ll just move out undetected,” said Andrew.
“Do it,” said Gregory.
“Okay,” said Andrew. He moved back to the door and waited for Gregory to punch in the code. When the door slid to the side, Andrew backed into the airlock and looked up at the video screen.
“Shit,” he said.
Gregory heard him just as the inner door was clicking shut. He keyed it to slide back open.
“What’s up?” asked Gregory.
“You should have left it shut,” said Andrew. “You know the procedure.”
“Just tell me,” said Gregory.
“Looks like they’re all dead,” said Andrew.
“Who?”
“The crew. I’ve got biometrics on my screen here, and they’re all flat,” said Andrew.
“Then she’s here,” said Gregory. “You can’t go out there, she’ll get you too.”
“Where does that leave us?” asked Andrew. “You can’t order a pickup from in here if all the teams are down. I have to go out there. I’ll just punch up stun-grenades—we’ve got them wired all over the ship—and grab a weapon before she recovers.”
“Don’t you have an intercom in the airlock?” asked Gregory.
“Sure, I can route it, why?”
“Then just let me talk to her,” said Gregory. “I can talk to her and end this feud. We used to be very close. There’s no reason why we can’t be again.”
Chapter 21
Showdown
“WILL WE HEAR HER?” ASKED GREGORY. He stood next to Andrew in the airlock, a small room that he normally only moved through when he was going to make an appearance or when his capsule was at his safe-house.
“If she’s within range,” said Andrew.
“She will be,” said Gregory. “She’s coming here in person to finish this. I certain of it. How do I turn it on?”
Andrew showed him the controls.
“Marta?” asked Gregory. “Are you there?”
They looked up at the video screen above the door. Andrew flipped past the biometric readouts and brought up the video feeds. He split the screen four ways and showed views of different parts of the boat.
“Marta?” Gregory called.
She appeared on the stern camera, coming up over the side carefully. Gregory and Andrew watched the screen as Marta was joined by two others. The three people joined hands on the deck and formed a triangular phalanx.
“Marta? Can you hear me?”
“I hear you,” replied Marta. She was on the right side of the line of women. “Come out here.”
Gregory keyed the microphone—“Tell me we can talk.”
“We’ll talk,” said Marta.
“Promise me you won’t attack me or my friend,” said Gregory.
“Why should I?” asked Marta. “Did you promise me before you sent your minions out to hunt me?”
“You were chasing me, Marta,” said Gregory. “Let’s stop arguing about who was chasing whom first and figure out a way out of this.”
“What about me?” asked Lynne. “You were going to have me killed, weren’t you?”
“I got some bad advice,” Gregory spoke over the intercom. “I fired that guy. And you did stab me in the heart. Can we just call it even and figure a way to settle this problem.”
“These women are trouble,” Andrew said when Gregory let go of the transmit
button. “Let’s wait them out.”
“Can we do that?” asked Gregory.
“This is a self-contained environment—we’ve got food for a month, environmental systems, we could outlast almost anything in here,” said Andrew.
“You come out or we’re going to sink this ship,” Marta yelled.
“Okay, back to the first plan,” said Andrew. “This thing might hold up at the bottom of the Ohio river, but we don’t know how long it would take to get help. If she’s killed the other squads, then it could be a while. You hole up in there and I’ll go out with the stun-grenades.”
“That’s our backup plan,” said Gregory, “but, let me try a little diplomacy first.”
Andrew nodded.
Gregory punched the button that broadcast his voice—“Marta, you were so good to me when I first woke up. You helped me figure out everything. What did I do to make you so angry?”
“You abandoned me,” Marta shouted. She pulled at Carol’s hand and dragged the other women deeper into the ship, towards the sound of Gregory’s voice. “I saved you and you just left me there with him. Once you were done with me you just ran away, without even a thank you.”
“I didn’t want to ruin your marriage,” said Gregory.
“That’s a lie,” said Marta. “You knew my marriage was already over. Don’t try to pretend. You could have stayed, or taken me with you. As soon as you had any success at all, you just took it all away.”
Gregory turned to Andrew and was about to speak when Lynne’s voice came over their speakers—“How is this helping us, Marta? You’re getting very angry here.”
“What was I, Marta?” asked Gregory. “Was I supposed to be your boyfriend? Your friend? What exactly did you expect from me? So I betrayed you? Is that why you killed all those people? Because I betrayed you?”
Marta shook her hand free from Carol. She pulled her elbows in tight to her body and hid her face in her hands.
“You were supposed to care as much as I do,” said Marta. “That’s all.” She looked up in the direction of the speaker and spoke to Gregory. “I made you. You were nothing and I created you. I rescued you from nothing. All I wanted was to be a part of what you became, but you left me behind with that man. Then when he died, I had nothing. Nothing. You should have needed me." Marta hunched over and leaned against a railing.