Zombie Uprising Series (Book 3): The Citadel

by Robbins, M. A.

  He jumped and waved. "Over here," he screamed.

  Mark tackled him and Jen put a hand over his mouth. "Just wave," she said, "but do it back from the edge of the roof where the helicopter can see you, but the zombies on the street can't."

  Zeke looked at her with big eyes and nodded his head. Jen removed her hand.

  Mark released Zeke and he stood, wiping off his ninja outfit. "We're OK. They didn't hear me over the rotor blades."

  Something crashed below them, and Jen's breath hitched. She inched toward the front of the building and peeked over the edge. The front door she'd secured had been smashed in and scores of zombies rushed in through the breach.

  They'll be here any minute.

  9

  Jen pulled her pistol. "They've broken into the building."

  "Shit." Mark held his handgun with one hand and took his mace in the other. "We need that helicopter now."

  It still hovered over the hotel. What the hell is it doing? Jen pointed the pistol in the air and fired a round. Damn thing didn't move. "Next time we make sure we get a radio."

  The first zombie ran into the door to the roof.

  Have to find someplace defensible.

  More thumps from the door. It rattled in its frame.

  "There." Mark pointed to the door.

  Zeke's eyebrows lowered. "There what?"

  "The raised rooftop entry. We can get on top."

  "Brilliant." Jen ran to the side of the entry.

  Mark laced his hands together. "You first, Zeke. Then Jen."

  Zeke stepped on Mark's hands and pulled himself onto the roof. Mark boosted Jen, and she grabbed Zeke's outstretched hand.

  The door burst open and zombies poured onto the roof, rushing away from them. Jen and Zeke reached down, each taking one of Mark's hands, and strained to pull him up. One of the zombies turned and rushed for Mark. It grabbed for his dangling leg and Mark lashed out with his foot, bashing the zombie's head with his boot heel. Jen and Zeke dug in, the tendons in Zeke's neck standing out. Teeth gritted, Mark rolled onto the roof on his stomach.

  Jen bent over, hands on her knees, panting.

  Zeke slashed at the zombies trying to climb onto their perch. Jen aimed and fired at their heads while Mark swung his mace in great arcs to keep them back.

  Even though they climbed and groped at the humans, the zombies uttered no sound. Not even a damn grunt. Creepy shit.

  The thump of helicopter rotors caught Jen's attention. Their rescuers headed their way.

  "It's coming," she yelled.

  The draft from the rotor blades nearly blew Jen over. She emptied her magazine and reloaded.

  A rope lowered from the chopper. "Jen goes first," Mark yelled.

  She shook her head and Mark glared, then pointed to the rope.

  The zombies were stacking up, and one grabbed Mark's pant leg, throwing him off balance. His arms windmilled as he tipped toward the ravenous horde. Jen grabbed his arm and Zeke sliced through the zombie's arm. With Jen's help, Mark righted himself. "Go now," he yelled, and clubbed a hairy, bearded zombie on the temple. "The longer you take, the longer before I can get out of here."

  Jen grabbed the rope and looked up at the soldier visible in the helicopter's door. He made a wind up gesture and she rose to the helicopter.

  It had probably taken only a minute to get there, but still seemed too slow. Mark and Zeke swung and shot, and chopped and hacked at the undead closing in on them.

  Jen crouched next to the soldier and he pointed at the seat. She shook her head and pulled the rifle off her shoulder. Propping it against the door, she aimed at the head of a zombie reaching out for Zeke while he dealt with another one. Holding her breath, she pulled the trigger and the back of the zombie's head blew out.

  The rope reached Mark and Zeke. Mark nudged Zeke and nodded to the rope. Zeke cleared his side of the raised rooftop entry and grabbed the rope. Jen concentrated on keeping the zombies from climbing up behind Mark. Without taking time to control her breathing, she killed a half dozen zombies before she missed. She pulled the trigger and nothing happened. The action was open. Shit. Empty.

  She scrambled to grab a fresh magazine. The zombie she'd missed had climbed up behind Mark. "Mark. Behind you," she screamed.

  Mark's attention stayed on the horde before him. Barely keeping them back, he'd stopped using his pistol and battered them with his mace.

  Jen ejected the empty magazine and slammed the new one in. Zeke climbed in the helicopter beside her and aimed his rifle downward.

  Jen jacked a round into the chamber. The zombie grabbed Mark's collar and pulled him backward.

  Jen shot and the zombie fell into the horde below. With that small pause, the undead in front of Mark pulled themselves up.

  Zeke killed them as fast as they came. Jen continued raining down lead on the creatures behind Mark. Still a few got through, but Mark made quick work of them with the mace.

  Mark stumbled. He has to be exhausted.

  The rope dangled behind him. He doesn't see it.

  She yelled, "Mark. The rope."

  Zeke aimed his rifle. "I've got this." He slowly squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit right behind Mark.

  Mark jumped and glanced behind him. Grabbing the rope, he swung the mace wildly. The damn zombies were too close to him. Jen couldn't risk hitting him.

  Mark bashed and kicked as he rose. Dozens of zombies had made it to the entry roof and all reached for him. The helicopter ascended and pulled Mark out of the horde's reach. He plopped onto the floor a minute later.

  The soldier said something into his mic and the helicopter flew toward base.

  Howell stood by a Humvee several yards from the helipad. Jen jumped out and stumbled over to him. "Hope you don't expect us to tip you for these rides."

  Howell grinned. "They're on the house."

  The helicopter rotors slowed as Mark and Zeke walked up.

  "Heard you folks had your hands full out there," Howell said.

  "You could say that." Mark cracked his neck. "All I want right now is a hot shower, some chow, and a nap. What do you say, Zeke?"

  Zeke looked at Mark as if he had grown another head. "I'm just getting started." He smiled at Howell. "But this last mission was freaking epic."

  Jen opened the Humvee door. "Let's get back to the rooms, Mr. Epic."

  Five minutes later, they piled out at Headquarters. Howell lowered his window. "Colonel's gonna want to debrief you."

  "I'll keep my briefs on, if you don't mind," Jen said. "Colonel or no colonel."

  Mark ignored her. "Why does he need a debriefing? Jen's working for Dr. Cartwright."

  Howell shrugged. "His base. His rules."

  "How did he become in charge of this base, anyway?" Mark said. "I've never seen an Army officer in command of an Air Force base."

  Howell scratched his chin. "The wing commander was killed in the first horde attack. That was the day after Colonel Butler arrived. Guess the brass figured he was already here, so they might as well give him the command."

  "Sounds convenient," Mark said. "For Butler."

  Howell studied Mark's face, then said, "Not sure I'd call it that. Anyway, I arrived a couple days later. Most of the Air Force folks are gone. All except a few flight line personnel."

  He closed the window halfway, then turned back to Jen. "Colonel's on a post inspection for the next forty minutes, so you should be ready for the debrief by then." He drove off.

  "That gives you enough time to conference with Dr. Cartwright," Zeke said.

  Mark slapped Zeke's back. "Not a bad idea. Get the findings to Cartwright now. Who knows what Butler may do? In fact, I wouldn't tell him shit. Just say the zombies acted the same."

  "That's a hell of a dangerous game to play," Jen said.

  "Not as dangerous as trusting Butler," Mark said. "Have you already forgotten how he left us in Anchorage to die?"

  "But what about the innocent soldiers?" Jen asked. "Shouldn't they know?"

/>   Mark's eyes narrowed. She'd hit a sore spot. "How will we turn on the video conferencing equipment?"

  "Leave that to me," Zeke said. "I helped set up audiovisual equipment in high school."

  Jen grinned. "Should've known."

  Zeke led the way to the room. He walked in, flipped a switch on a console on the table, then pushed a button. The TV came on but remained blank until the word Connecting displayed.

  "Can't wait to get the hell out of here," Jen said.

  Mark leaned into the hallway and peered up and down the passage before closing the door.

  The monitor filled with Dr. Cartwright's upper body, leaning on a desk. She peered over her glasses, a curt expression pasted on her face. "Jen. What do you have for me?"

  Jen licked her lips. How much should she tell her?

  In the end she told her everything: their mission and how the zombies seemed to communicate without speaking, how they suspected that the zombies that turned without being bitten seemed smarter than the others.

  Cartwright took her glasses off and let them dangle from the chain looped around her neck. "We have some specimens here, but all have been bitten. Our strict protocols have kept the newly dead from rising. We may have to make some exceptions."

  She frowned. "What did you call them again? Leaders and what?"

  "Drones," Jen said. "Leaders and drones."

  "Can we leave this place now?" Mark asked. "She's given you the information you need."

  The door burst open and Butler marched in. "How dare you start a debrief without me?"

  Howell strode in and closed the door behind him.

  "Colonel Butler," Dr. Cartwright said. "You will be given information as I see fit. Jen works for me, not you."

  "I suppose I'll be rid of her now that she's reported back to you."

  Jen stood. I can't believe I'm doing this, but there's more to learn here and I'm in the best position to learn it. Besides, Butler wants us gone too badly. He's up to something. "I'm staying for a while longer. I believe there's more to learn about the new zombie behaviors." She shrugged. "It could end up meaning nothing in the long run, but it could also be a game-changer in this war. In the memory of my father and Doc, and so many others, I have to risk staying in the field for this."

  10

  Butler's face flushed. "What the hell do you mean you're staying? The deal was a week."

  Jen clenched her fists. I'd love to kick this asshole in the nuts…if he had any.

  Mark stepped between Butler and Jen, and Zeke pressed in on her side.

  "There's no need to shout." Cartwright's face had the same placid expression as if she were placing a dinner order.

  Butler stopped in front of Mark and turned toward the monitor. "I've got the defense of the United States on my shoulders, and I don't have the time to babysit civilians."

  "Babysit?" Jen leaned around Mark to glower at Butler. "Listen, Colonel Butthead. We can take care of ourselves."

  "Really?" Butler sneered. "And who had to be airlifted just today before they were overrun?"

  Mark's jaw muscles tightened and Jen gently pulled him to her side. Butler glared down at her.

  "So when you airlift your own troops, do you consider it babysitting?" Jen asked.

  Butler sputtered, "They're soldiers. They're supposed to be supported."

  Cartwright cleared her throat and everyone's attention shifted to her.

  "So you're saying that airlifting assets from the field is support?" Cartwright gave a slight smile. "And not babysitting?"

  Butler puffed his chest. "Our agreement was for these civilians to stay for a week. The week is up and they need to leave."

  "But there's more work to be done," Cartwright said. "I'm proud and thankful that Jen has volunteered to stay and follow up on her recent findings."

  "What findings?" Butler asked. "And why wasn't I informed?"

  Cartwright gestured to the monitor. "Jen?"

  Jen licked her lips, but her mouth had gone dry. "The zombies"—she gave a slight shake of her head—"or the virus, have evolved. We observed behavior that indicates the zombies' cognitive abilities have increased."

  "Cut with all the flowery language and tell me what you saw."

  "A zombie opened a door that was latched."

  Butler stared at her for a moment, then chuckled. "Are you shitting me? Those meat bags are dumb as shit."

  "I know what I saw," Jen said.

  Mark thrust his jaw forward. "I saw it, too."

  "Me, too," Zeke said.

  "Look," Butler said. "Maybe one of them opened a door, but I'll bet it was already partly open and the damn thing stumbled into it at the right angle and knocked it open." He looked at Cartwright. "You're a scientist. Don't you have to have more evidence? A bigger number of them?"

  "A larger sampling size?" Cartwright steepled her fingers before her. "That's a good point, Colonel."

  Butler put his hands on his hips and nodded. The red was receding from his face. "That's what I mean. I'm glad someone here has some sense."

  Jen smiled. "Then we agree."

  "About what?" Butler growled.

  "We need a larger sample size. Of course, that means we need more observation, and in order to do that, we'll have to stay here for a while longer."

  "What?" Butler said. "No."

  "I'm briefing General Lewis on our status in about an hour," Cartwright said. "I'll pass on that Jen and her team are staying, and that you agree."

  Butler's lips pressed together, drawing a thin line across his face. He closed his eyes and his nostrils flared, then he took a deep breath and exhaled. "Agreed."

  He opened his eyes and lowered his brow, staring at Cartwright. "But I will be briefed on all activities. This team will not leave this base without either me or Sergeant Howell knowing where they're going, what they're doing, and when they'll return."

  Fat chance, asshole. Jen waited for Cartwright to knock him down to size.

  Cartwright stared at the monitor then reached forward, her hand disappearing below the picture. "Agreed." The connection closed.

  What the Holy Hell?

  Butler scowled. "Give your outside itineraries to Sergeant Howell and coordinate all activities with him."

  He marched toward the door and stopped when he stepped into the hallway. He glanced over his shoulder. "And this room is off-limits. You will not have any communication with Dr. Cartwright unless and until I authorize it."

  He disappeared down the hall, with Howell following in his wake.

  Jen kicked a chair, sending it slamming into the wall. "That asshole. What the hell does he hope to get from all this bullshit?"

  "He's hiding something," Zeke said.

  "What?" Jen asked.

  Mark nodded. "I agree with Zeke. He is hiding something and he doesn't want it to get out. I'll bet the brass would replace him if they knew, and that's what he's trying to avoid."

  "So we've got an asshole colonel who's supposed to be trying to save the world, but he's doing something underhanded?"

  Zeke sat on the conference table. "He's an asshole all right, but I think in his mind he's a patriot that will do anything he thinks he needs to do for his country."

  "Great," Jen mumbled.

  Mark clapped his hands together. "I'm pretty hungry and you two smell like zombie shit. How about we clean up and get something to eat?"

  Thirty minutes later they sat at a corner table in the chow hall.

  Jen made a face when she swallowed a mouthful of mashed potatoes. They had an off taste. Probably dehydrated. "We should target different sections of the city each time we go out."

  "Maybe we can get hold of some night vision gear and go out at night," Mark said. "Unless they can see in the dark, it'd give us a clear advantage."

  Zeke pushed his chair back and stood. Jen looked up. "You leaving?"

  Zeke ignored her and walked toward the exit door for the serving line. Grant walked out, holding a tray.

  "Grant," Zeke
called.

  Grant's gaze snapped to Zeke, and his eyes grew wide. He glanced at a table of soldiers to his right. Several of them had stopped eating and turned to look at him.

  Grant ignored Zeke and continued toward the soldiers' table.

  Zeke put a hand on Grant's arm. "Hey, Grant."

  Grant dropped his tray, the dishes cracking and the food splattering as it hit the floor.

  "Now look what you've done," Grant roared.

  Zeke stepped back, his mouth working like a fish out of water. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

  Grant grabbed Zeke by the front of his costume. "Startle? You knocked my tray down."

  Mark jumped to his feet and took a couple of steps toward Zeke.

  More and more heads turned to witness the argument. The table of soldiers had all turned and watched with keen interest.

  Grant grabbed Zeke's hands and used them to mimic a push. "This. This is what you did. Why? What the hell do you want?"

  "I—I was going to invite you to join us." Zeke gestured to the table where Jen sat. Her mouth hung open. What the hell's wrong with Grant?

  "You're all civilians," Grant yelled. "I'm going to sit with my battle buddies. I don't have time for you."

  Zeke turned back to the table. Jen's heart broke. Zeke looked crushed. Mark walked Zeke back to the table.

  "It's OK," Jen said. "He's always been an asshole to you. That's all he is. Now that he's back with the military and doesn't need us to save his ass, we see his true colors."

  Mark patted Zeke's back. "I should've kicked that guy's ass a long time ago."

  Zeke's shocked face slowly transformed and he smiled.

  Jen's eyes narrowed. "What the hell's wrong with you?"

  "Grant's OK," Zeke said. "He's still our friend."

  "What do you mean?" Mark asked.

  Zeke put his closed left hand to his chest and looked around. With a satisfied grin, he turned his hand palm up and opened it, revealing a folded slip of paper.

  11

  Jen looked up and down the hallway, then closed the door to her room. "So what's Grant's note say?"

  Zeke unfolded the paper and squinted. "You're being watched by everyone. Colonel's orders. I need to speak to Jen. Tonight behind the base motor pool two blocks to the west of Headquarters at ten o'clock."