by JJ Zep
Then Chris was in motion himself. The Ranger had half turned to see what was going on behind him. Chris sprung into a crouch and drove forward, catching the man in the midriff. The soldier folded like a Christmas card. He fired off a burst across the fuselage. The helicopter banked violently and Chris found himself thrown off balance. He plunged across the cabin and slammed into the wall. Someone crashed into him. Then a wail went up, and as the chopper righted itself. Chris saw Benson ripping at one of the Rangers. Grant’s broken body lay off to one side, his mink coat sprayed red with blood. Nearby lay the body of the other Ranger, his head twisted at an improbable angle.
Chris took in those details in an instant, but his focus was on Ruby, standing to the fore of the cabin. She had somehow managed to get hold of her sword and stood with it held in her hand, the slightly curved blade almost touching the floor. Hooley stood beside and a little behind her, the two of them facing off against Justine who was holding a couple of pistols, one in each hand. One of the weapons, which looked to Chris like a machine pistol, was trained on Ruby, the other on Benson, still tussling on the floor with the soldier.
Chris scanned for a weapon and saw an M-16 carbine lying between the seats.
“Don’t even think about it, Chris,” Justine said, speaking over her shoulder. “The weapon I’m holding on your girl is a Ruger MP-9. It’ll turn her into hamburger in about two seconds flat.”
“Give it up Justine,” Chris said. “This is done.”
“You think so?” Justine chuckled. “Then how come I’m the one holding the gun?”
“Grant’s dead, Benson’s done. Your mission’s shot. What are you going to do, take New York all by yourself?”
“New York? Hell, no. I’m a California girl. Which is why I’m going to pick up your friend Joe Thursday and transport him back to Pendleton myself. First thing’s first though.” The 9-mil bucked in her hand as a single shot boomed across the cabin. Benson had been ripping at the corpse of the dead Ranger, now he pitched forward and lay still as the bullet slammed into the top of his skull.
“Now, Chris,” Justine said. “I want you to circle round to where I can see you. Then get in front and tell the pilots to head back to City Hall. I don’t think I have to tell you what happens if you try any shit with me.”
five
The thud of the twenty-mil, the reassuring feel of it kicking in his grasp, lasted only a few seconds before the remnants of the ammo belt were spent. Then Joe was shrugging himself out of the harness, allowing the weapon to clatter to the ground and vaulting the sandbags into the melee before him. The burst of gunfire had cut a swathe across them, but hardly made a dent in their numbers. Joe stepped between the corpses walking directly to where the doctor stood, one hand on her pistol, the other still clutching her zombie remote.
“Don’t come any closer,” she said. “I’ll shoot if you –”
“If I do what?” Joe said reaching her, getting a grip on her gun hand. “If I do this?” He gave a twist, releasing her hold.
“Ow!” the doctor yelped. “Cut that out you son of a bitch! Let me go!”
“Sure thing, doc,” Joe said. He shucked the magazine from the pistol, checked it, then holstered the weapon in his waistband. “Now, let’s see what you’ve got there.” He made a grab for the object in her hand.
“Don’t touch that!” the doctor screamed, twisting away from him.
“Easy doc,” Joe said grinning. “Just want to get a look-see. What is that? An I-Pod?”
“Nothing a Neanderthal like you would understand,” the doctor said. She took a backward pace, holding the I-Pod like a weapon. “Now back up motherfucker, before I turn them on you.” She gave a nod towards the Z’s, which had formed into a circle around them, packed tightly together.
“Oh, I don’t think you want to do that, doc,” Joe said. “Not while I’ve got your pistol tucked into my waistband. You see, I’m a real good shot. One of these things takes a step towards me and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes faster than you can spin the dial on that little contraption of yours. I presume that’s how you’re controlling them?”
The doctor said nothing, cast a quick look over her shoulder to the skyscrapers on the other side of the park.
“Like it or not, doc, we’re in this together. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. The two of us are going to get off this rooftop. Then we’re going to find us a vehicle and take a little ride uptown. I got a friend needs medical attention.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” the doctor said. Joe could see the nametag on her uniform. It read, ‘Payne.’
“Fine,” he said. “Suit yourself. Let’s just hang here with your friends then.” He swept a hand across the massed horde of zombies, staring blank-faced back at them. “By the way, what’s the battery life on that I-Pod?”
The doctor reacted as if stung, bringing the display up to her face. By the expression that passed there, Joe realized that they didn’t have long. “You don’t perhaps have a charger do you?” he said.
In the distance, the helicopter engines sounded. It was closer now, Joe realized, definitely closer.
six
The chopper drifted between two buildings. For a moment, Chris, seated in one of the helicopter’s bucket seats with his hands cable-tied behind him, had a view north, where the sky was tinted a dawn-like orange. A burst of adrenalin pulsed through his veins. Jesus! That was a fire burning out there. Not burning, raging, raging out of control. How far north? He couldn’t be sure. He just prayed it was in the Wastelands and not anywhere near the apartment building.
“Ma’am,” the pilot’s voice came over the intercom. “Ma’am I think you want to take a look at this. Starboard side.”
Justine rose from her seat, crossed the cabin and stared out of the porthole into the dark. “Holy crap!” she said, half turning. “You’ve got to see this, Chris.”
She shuffled over, popped the catch on his harness and pulled him to his feet. Then she guided him across the fuselage to the twin windows set into the side. Chris leaned forward and rested his forehead against the glass as Justine released her grip on his arm. Just then the spotlight from the chopper did a sweep across the ground and Chris’s breath caught in his throat. He’d known there were a lot of the things down there, but he hadn’t imagined it was this many. They covered every inch of City Hall Park, spilled onto Broadway, onto Park Row, onto the streets beyond. Every inch of parkland, of pavement, was thick with the creatures. Now, as the helicopter banked and turned towards City Hall itself, he saw that they were there too, pushed right up to the building, gathered on the rooftop. He didn’t see how Joe could have survived down there.
“Everyone hold on tight back there,” the pilot announced. “I’m taking her in for a closer look.”
***
“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a ride,” Joe shouted over the roar of the engines. The helicopter held in a hover, some fifty feet above them and out across the parking lot. The force of the rotors stirred up a blast of arctic air, kicked up a flurry of snowflakes. The snow was falling harder. Joe liberated the 9-mil from his waistband and held it on the doctor, half-turned towards the chopper, the pilots now visible in the cockpit as it moved slowly in towards the roof. He hadn’t yet figured out what had happened, why they’d returned for him. Had Chris and Ruby gained control of the situation on board? Had Avery Grant decided that he was worth more dead than alive? Right now, he didn’t care. He had a ride out of here. Everything else was secondary.
“Guess they’re going to drop us a line,” Joe shouted across the roar of the engines. “When they do, it’s ladies first, doc, but don’t fret, I’ll be right behind you.”
“You don’t understand,” the doctor shouted back at him. “I can’t go with you. I just can’t.” She gave another of those furtive looks over her shoulder. What was back there that had her so concerned?
“Not an option,” Joe said. “You stay here you’re going to get yourself eaten. Probably th
e moment the battery runs out on that magic box of yours. Besides, I have a friend that needs your attention, like I said.”
“I can’t go. I won’t.”
“You can and you will,” Joe said. He caught movement to his left, looked that way and saw the fuselage door slide open. Justine stood in the doorway, her lithe shape framed by the lights of the cabin. She gave Joe a mock salute then disappeared back inside. She returned with Hooley in tow, dragging something between them. Joe made out what it was just before the body was pushed through into space, a black-clad figure, probably a corporation soldier. Now they disappeared to return again, hauling another body, then another, this one wearing an ankle-length mink coat - Avery Grant. So that son-of-a-bitch had bought it after all.
Joe watched as the figure plunged earthward, the coat flapping in the air like the useless wings of a dying swan. Finally, Hooley and Justine dragged out another body, a large man who could only have been Bobo Benson. Hooley shouted something at him which Joe couldn’t make out, then Justine pointed Hooley back into the cabin at gunpoint and the helicopter shifted sideways, in towards them.
seven
Standing at a window on the fifth floor of the Woolworths Building, Marin Scolfield watched the proceedings across the park with growing interest. He’d seen the helicopter take off, stranding Alex and the heavy-set feller on the rooftop, seen the brief skirmish that had occurred up there. Now the chopper was back and unloading cargo, including he now saw, Bobo Benson. He was sorry to see Benson go. He’d enjoyed taunting the lug and had considered him prime material for one of his new batch of Zombstrosities. Oh well, you win some, you lose some.
The chopper was moving in closer, in towards the rooftop. Now a line was being lowered and for the first time a feeling of unease stirred within Scolfield. The big man was pointing Alex to the harness that dangled in the air between them. Alex was shaking her head. Now the man produced a pistol. Still she wavered. Scolfield couldn’t understand why he was so determined to get her on board, but he did know that he couldn’t allow that to happen. Alex was dispensable. He didn’t care one way or the other if they took her or not. The I-Pod, though, was another matter. How long would it take the Corporation whiz kids to figure out his frequencies if they got their hands on that little contraption? He wasn’t about to let that happen.
He reached into his bag and produced another of the devices from the many he had stowed there. Turning the player on, he spun the wheel, selecting a track at random. The track itself didn’t matter. All he wanted to do was jam Alex’s frequency. Once he did that, the Z’s would revert to type. They’d attack.
***
“I ain’t going to ask you again doc,” Joe said. “Slip the harness over your head. Time’s wasting.”
“No,” Alex said flatly. “I’m not going.”
Joe looked directly up the rope, to the hull of the massive machine hovering above their heads, its rotors a blur against the blackness. He could see Justine leaning out, holding onto the rope as she looked down at them. He still wasn’t sure what the situation was on board the chopper, but that would wait. Right now he had to get the doctor aboard. Kelly needed her.
“Okay, doc,” he said. “You want to stick around and feed the Z’s, be my guest. I’m outa here.” He caught the rope, widened the harness as if to slip it over his head and stopped, looked beyond the doctor and widened his eyes. It was the oldest trick in the book but it worked a charm. The doctor turned to see what he was looking at and in that moment Joe delivered a short jab to the base of her chin. He caught her on the way to the ground, manhandled the harness over her head and shoulders, hooked it under her armpits, then gave Justine a thumbs up. In the next moment the doctor’s limp body was winched skyward.
The whine that the rope made as it was furled, drew his attention back to the Z’s. He’d almost forgotten the electrical hum, but now it attacked his hearing like static from a detuned television set. There was something strange in their behavior too. Every Z on the rooftop had its head inclined towards the doctor, and in a moment Joe realized why. The I-Pod! Christ, why hadn’t he thought to take it off her? He looked skyward towards the inert form, being hoisted away from him. He could see the silver object loosely clutched in her hand. Yet even as he looked he saw the device loosen from her grip, slip through her fingers, plunge earthward.
He followed its path, moved towards it, struck out a hand, barging some of the Z’s aside in the process. The I-Pod struck his fingertips, clattered through them, plopped into the snow. But he’d done enough to break its fall. He could see that the display was still lit. He reached down to retrieve it, sunk to his knees. He felt his fingers close on the metal casing and pulled it towards him. In that moment the display blinked out. Down on his knees, among the forest of legs, Joe heard the Z hum suddenly die.
eight
One minute the rooftop looked like a sleepwalkers convention and the next it resembled the mosh pit at a heavy metal concert. The Z’s were suddenly in motion, ripping, flailing at each other. Joe felt a grip on the back of his jacket, felt himself hurled bodily across the roof. He hit the ground on his side, coming down in the space he and the doctor had previously occupied. Pain flared in his hip, but he barely noticed it. He was rolling, bouncing to his feet, withdrawing the 9-mil as he did. A zombie came at him, muscling its way through the melee as Joe got the pistol free and pumped a round into its forehead. Then he was on the move again, heading for the edge of the roof, veering left as he got there, almost losing his footing on the icy ground. The posse of Z’s that were in close pursuit weren’t quite as quick on their feet, a few of them teetered on the edge for a brief moment before those coming behind plowed into them and the whole mob were send plunging from the rooftop, to crash into the larger contingent of their brethren gathered below. Staying close to the edge, aware that one slip would send him over to join them, Joe ran for the gun bunker. That would keep them at bay for a few seconds. Right now a few seconds might be the difference between life and death.
From above came the sound of the chopper’s 20-mil opening up. The Z’s in front of him, trying to block his path, suddenly bucked and danced as the bullets tore into them. Joe said a silent thank you to whoever was firing from up there and vaulted the sandbags into the gun position. Already the Z’s were pressing in, the scant barrier collapsing under their weight. He raised the pistol and took out a few that were already in the perimeter. Then the twenty opened up again, firing with deadly efficiency, cutting a swathe across them. Joe risked a glance towards the helicopter and thought he saw Hooley working the gun. That figured. He’d never seen anyone, not even during his time as a mercenary, who could handle a machinegun the way Hooley could.
The chopper was banking, heading away from the rooftop to hover behind him in the space over the parking lot. He understood immediately what they were doing. There wasn’t time to winch him aboard, not with the Z’s closing in. Instead they were going to pull him from the roof. They were going to have to hustle, the front wall of the bunker and the one to his left had just collapsed.
The 20-mil had fallen silent, the Z’s too close to him for Hooley to keep firing. Joe emptied the rest of his clip into the advancing zombies, knowing it would make no difference at all. He tossed the 9-mil aside and stood watching them edge gradually forward. Behind him the chopper’s engine roared. He cast a quick glance and saw it shifting towards him as though in slow motion, the rope fully extended, the harness swaying wildly from side to side. Was it close enough for him to jump for it? He didn’t think so, but he was going to have to try anyway. What it came down to was this; if he jumped and missed, the Z’s on the ground would get him, if he stayed here, those on the roof were going to tear him apart.
Joe turned away with the Z’s just feet from him. He shifted his feet until he was at the very edge of the rooftop. He picked up the slow arc of the harness, focused his attention and bunched the muscles in his legs. Then he pushed off, leaping into darkness.
nine
“What do you think?” Julie said.
Ana looked out from the roof of the apartment building, tracking north, her eyes smarting with the smoke. The wind had dropped off slightly. That was a good thing. But the brief flurry of snow had ceased too, and that wouldn’t help. The fire was still half a mile away, raging amongst the trees in Morningside Park, turning the buildings in its wake into towering funeral pyres. It was traveling fast, giving them… what… an hour, two hours? Still with the drop in the breeze, the streets might act as temporary firebreaks. Kelly was in no position to be moved and even if she were, where would they go? North was a journey into the inferno, south straight into the Z’s. Not a whole lot of options, Ana decided.
“We wait,” she said.
“Wait?” Julie said. “That fire’s going to reach us in a couple of hours. We get trapped in the building and we’ll be burned alive.”
“A lot can happen in two hours,” Ana said. “We wait until there’s no other choice.” She pointed northeast towards the stone façade of the Natural History Museum some two blocks away. “You see the trees to the side of that building there? Those trees get lit on fire and we move. Until then, you get your boys packing – ammo, some food and water, nothing that’s going to slow us down. And let’s see if we can put together some kind of stretcher for Kelly. When Joe gets back we want to be ready to move.”