“It’s done. We lost. AND IT’S MY FAULT! Why didn’t I listen to D-Day? Why didn’t I take everyone else’s advice? Why did it always have to be my way?”
Sobs wracked her body.
A chain clanked. Jen’s head popped up.
Wayne rose unsteadily to his feet. Facing the wall, he stumbled, then turned, his yellow eyes surveying the room.
28
“Wayne?” Jen pushed herself to her knees. Wayne turned his head at the sound of her voice and stared at her.
“Are you still there?” Jen asked.
Wayne’s head tilted as if he was trying to understand what she’d said.
Zeke pulled himself to his feet, his face red and puffy. Wayne’s gaze snapped to him and he launched himself at his brother. Reaching the chains’ length, his feet went out from under him. He slammed to the floor on his back.
“It’s me,” Zeke said. “Your brother.”
Wayne scrambled to his feet and strained at the chains, trying to get to Zeke. Spittle flew from his mouth as he struggled to break free.
“Stop,” Jen said.
Wayne went still.
“You can control him?” Zeke said. “The drugs don’t work.”
“Wayne,” Jen said. “Sit.”
Wayne dropped onto his ass.
“Damn,” Zeke said. “How’d that work?”
“I think it’s because he can hear my voice,” Jen said. “I can’t connect through his mind, but I can through his ears.”
Zeke wiped his eyes. “Howell and Cartwright don’t realize that. They think all your control is through the mind.”
“Right,” Jen said. “So I can keep Wayne still until we find a way to give him peace.”
“No.”
“No? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Wayne can still help us,” Zeke said.
Heat rose in Jen’s face. “Are you fucking kidding me? He’s your brother. I’m not gonna use him like a piece of meat. How can you even think of that?”
Zeke sighed. “He’s my brother and he’d want us to do this. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. And that’s all I’ve wanted since we met in Anchorage—to protect you.”
Jen put a hand to her forehead. “I don’t give a damn what you want. Listen—”
“No, you fucking listen!”
Jen’s eyebrows shot up and her mouth hung open.
“That’s right,” Zeke said. “You fucking listen to me for once. You just went on about how you never listened to anyone else and now you’re doing the same thing.”
He stabbed a finger at her. “It’s more than you. If you don’t survive, then what’s left of the United States will be under the boots of a few tyrants. Hell, maybe even what’s left of the rest of the world won’t be free anymore.”
Jen’s mouth moved, but she couldn’t speak.
“It isn’t all about you,” Zeke said. “Time to put on your big girl pants and realize that.”
Her heart pounding, Jen scowled at him. She opened her mouth to speak, but Zeke cut in.
“I love you,” he said. “Wayne loved you. Let us both help you.”
Jen’s mouth clamped shut. Wayne loved me?
As if he were reading her mind, Zeke said, “That’s right. He loved you. He was going to tell you once this was over.”
“What happened to him,” she stammered, “it’s...it’s my fault.”
Zeke shook his head. “No. But if you don’t do everything you can to defeat these assholes, then it will be your fault when they’ve destroyed the world.”
Jen struggled to her feet, her knees shaking. He’s right. D-Day was right. I can’t change what’s happened, only what’s going to happen.
She wiped her face with her hands. “You’re a little shit sometimes.”
Zeke’s lips trembled. “I am. But I’m also right sometimes.”
Jen nodded. “Let’s figure out our next steps.”
Zeke opened his mouth and Jen’s hand shot up. He didn’t speak.
“Just one thing before we get busy,” she said.
“What’s that?”
“I love you, too.”
29
Jen sat against the wall. “I think we’re ready.”
Zeke nodded. “Not great odds, but better than we had.”
“We’re outnumbered now,” Jen said, “but if this works that’ll turn around.”
Wayne sat still, his eyes following the conversation. Jen turned to him.
“Wayne, wipe your hands on your wounds, then wipe them all over your head.”
Wayne looked down at the bullet holes in his chest and rubbed his hands over them.
“Now rub them on your head.”
He placed his hands on top of his head and smeared the blood into his hair and onto his skin.
“Again,” Jen said.
After she had him repeat the process several times, she said, “Put your hands at your side.”
Wayne did as she asked. His entire head was slick and shiny with blood.
“What do you think?” Jen asked.
“Looks like someone beat him in the head,” Zeke said.
“It does, doesn’t it?” Jen gestured to Wayne. “Lie down.”
Wayne went to the floor on his side.
“Close your eyes and don’t move,” Jen said. “You won’t move for any reason until I say ‘attack.’ When I say ‘attack,’ you will attack anyone within your reach. Bite them.”
Zeke cleared his throat.
Jen put a hand to her mouth. “Sorry. Wayne, you won’t attack Zeke. Ever.”
Zeke gave her a thumbs-up.
Jen rubbed her eyes. “Now we wait.”
The door’s lock clunked and it swung open. A corporal stepped in with two trays of food and two bottles of water. He made a wide arc around Wayne, then placed the trays on the floor and slid them toward Jen and Zeke with his boot. “Sergeant Howell said you should eat up.” He tossed them each a bottle of water. “And drink up.”
Jen unscrewed the bottle and took a gulp.
The corporal watched her. “The team will be here in fifteen minutes to give you another injection.” He turned toward the door.
“Can you do something before you leave?” Jen asked.
The corporal glanced back at her. “What’s that?”
Jen gestured to Wayne. “Can you get him out of here, please? He’s really beginning to stink.”
The corporal examined Wayne from a distance. “What happened to him?”
“He went nuts and kept ramming his head into the wall,” Zeke said. “Probably frustrated he couldn’t get to us.”
The corporal took a step toward Wayne. “He looks dead, but that’s not my job.”
“I’ll tell Sergeant Howell you said that,” Jen said.
Frowning, the corporal looked at her then back at Wayne. “Fuck it.”
He pulled a set of keys from his pocket and bent over Wayne.
“Attack,” Jen yelled.
The corporal looked toward her with a puzzled look then screamed as Wayne bit into his arm.
“Don’t let go,” Jen said.
Breathing heavily, the corporal pounded Wayne in the head with his free fist, but Wayne had his arm trapped. The corporal’s attacks slowed and he fell onto his back and lay still.
“Let him go,” Jen said. “And find his keys.”
Wayne dropped the corporal’s arm and picked the keys up from the floor.
“Toss them here.”
Jen caught the keys and freed herself.
The corporal rose.
Jen pointed to herself and Zeke. “You will not attack either of us. You will protect both of us.”
She scrambled over to Zeke and released him. He stood, rubbing his wrists. “I’d give you the biggest hug right about now but I know there’s no time for that.”
She pulled him in and squeezed. “Always enough time for you.”
“Still friends?” he said.
“That’ll neve
r change.” She released him. “Now let’s grow our little army. My inoculators should be here any minute, and have I got a shot for them.”
30
Jen stuck her head out the door, then stepped out into a large room with a low ceiling. Fluorescent lights revealed tables with boxes and pieces of equipment that lined the walls. Two windowless metal doors, one to Jen’s left and the other to her right, were closed.
Zeke joined her. “Any idea where we are?”
A big vehicle rumbled by, its vibrations hitting the bottom of Jen’s feet.
“Sounds like a semi,” she said.
Zeke looked around. “No windows. Maybe we’re in a warehouse.”
“Maybe.” Jen popped back into the room.
The two new zombie soldiers stood in the corner with Wayne and the first soldier. “Stay with us,” Jen said.
She pulled the pistol she’d taken from one of the soldiers and, with Zeke at her side, strode to the door on the right. She pressed her ear against it.
“More rumbling,” she whispered.
She put a finger to her lips.
“Helicopters.” She glanced at the zombies. “Zombies stay here. Zeke, with me.”
She eased the door open and stepped into a corridor lined with stacked boxes. Glass windows in the double doors at the hallway’s end showed the inside of a cavernous hangar.
“Hold here,” she said.
Jen rushed up and peered through the windows.
An Apache and a Blackhawk, both parked in the hangar, had their cowlings removed. A soldier in a T-shirt jumped out of the Blackhawk. He picked up a toolbox and strode out of the hangar.
Something moved to Jen’s left and she shrank away from the window. A soldier walked by, an M4 slung over his shoulder and a Beretta strapped to his hip. He stopped three feet from the door.
It’s that asshole, Doyle.
Jen slunk back to Zeke.
“That murderer Doyle’s on guard out there,” she said. “But he’s there to keep people out. Doesn’t seem he’s worried about keeping us in.”
“We should grab him,” Zeke said. “Find out where we are.”
“Good idea. Come on.”
Jen led Zeke to the double doors. The guard hadn’t moved.
Easing the door open, Jen slipped into the hangar with Zeke right behind her. She pressed the barrel of her gun to Doyle’s temple. “Don’t move.”
Doyle put his hands up.
“Put your hands down,” Zeke said. “Call attention to yourself and this won’t end well.”
“OK.” Doyle lowered his hands.
“Walk backwards with us,” Jen said. “We’re going inside.”
Jen guided Doyle into the corridor while Zeke held the door open. Once inside, she pushed the sergeant against the wall. “Grab his shit.”
Zeke took Doyle’s pistol and rifle.
“Turn around,” Jen said.
Doyle glared at her. “What do you want?”
“Where are we?” Jen asked.
He didn’t answer. Jen popped him in the mouth.
That wiped the look off his face.
“Where are we?” she repeated.
“Downtown airport. North Kansas City.”
“And where are Cartwright and Howell?” Zeke asked.
Doyle’s lips pressed tightly together and a drop of blood ran from the corner of his mouth.
“Really?” Jen said. “I can do worse than a punch.”
“How about something easier?” Zeke asked. “Where’s your chow hall?”
Jen squinted at Zeke. What the hell? Does he think we’re going to stop for lunch?
Doyle must’ve wondered the same thing based on the look he gave Zeke. “Two buildings down from here.”
“Is it big?” Zeke asked.
Doyle shrugged. “I guess so.”
“How many does it seat?”
“I’m done answering shit.”
Zeke turned Doyle’s wrist and looked at his watch. “11:45 a.m.”
Jen looked at Zeke. Brilliant.
She placed the barrel of her gun to his forehead. “Last chance. Where are Cartwright and Howell?”
Keeping his eyes ahead, the guard remained silent.
Jen looked down the corridor. “Wayne, come here, please.”
The door opened and Wayne lumbered to her. Doyle’s eyes widened.
“What do you think of your work?” Jen asked.
Doyle licked his lips and closed his eyes.
“One more time,” Jen said. “Don’t give me the answer I want and Wayne will snack on your face.”
A drop of sweat rolled down Doyle’s cheek. “The command center. Small building. Two down from here.”
“Which way?” Zeke asked.
“Left as you leave the hangar.”
“And the chow hall? Which way is that?”
“Right.”
Jen and Zeke exchanged glances.
“Guess we got what we need,” Jen said.
Doyle glared at her. “Won’t do you any good. You’re fucked, and I hope I can be the one to put a couple of rounds in your little punk rocker friend there. Make him and his brother a matched set.”
Jen spoke through clenched teeth. “You look like a guy with leadership qualities, and we’re in need of another leader.”
She dropped the gun to his chest and pulled the trigger.
Twice.
31
Doyle stood to the side with the rest of the soldiers.
“You’ll lead the soldiers to the chow hall,” Jen said. “It’s noon and it should be full.”
She turned to Wayne. The more time she spent with Zombie Wayne, the less he seemed like her Wayne. “Wayne will go with me and Zeke to the command center.”
Zeke checked the load in his M4. “The soldiers should concentrate on biting as many as they can as quick as they can.”
“Not stay around and snack?” Jen said. “Good point. You soldiers will bite anyone you can. As soon as you’ve bitten someone, go bite someone else.”
She looked at Zeke. “I miss anything?”
“I don’t think so.”
Jen peered into the hangar. All clear. She pushed the door open. “Soldiers, you have your orders. Attack now.”
Doyle raced out the door, followed by the three drones. They were out of sight in seconds.
Jen drew her pistol. “Let’s go.”
She darted across the hangar. No use playing it too safe. The diversion at the chow hall should be enough.
Zeke sprinted ahead of her and waited at the far side of the hangar entrance. Wayne stopped silently beside him.
Peering around the corner, Zeke called back. “Clear.” Jen darted out of the hangar and past a parked tug and a pallet of equipment.
She made a beeline for a small one-story building with a single door at its end. Just as she neared it, an older soldier pushed through the door. Jen slammed into him, knocking his ass back into a room with a conference table and chairs in the middle and communications equipment lining the walls.
A burly soldier jumped up from the table and drew his pistol. Jen took a wild shot at him and he ducked. Zeke burst into the room and went into a roll. He came out of it and sprung to his feet, slamming the butt of his M4 on a burly soldier’s forehead.
Howell launched from a chair and bull-rushed Jen, knocking her on her ass. “Dr. Cartwright,” he barked.
Cartwright limped toward Howell.
Oh, no you don’t.
“Wayne, attack.”
Wayne pounced on a shrieking female radio operator while Zeke pulled his pistol and shot at Howell. Howell winced and grabbed his shoulder.
Jen leapt onto the conference table, rolled across it, and hit the floor, blocking Cartwright from reaching Howell. Howell ducked out the door.
“Everyone line up,” Jen yelled.
The radio operator rose, her yellow eyes flashing.
“You keep still,” Jen said.
Zeke lined up the remaining
soldiers and relieved them of their weapons. “Got ’em all.”
Jen nodded. “Everyone take a seat.”
Cartwright glared at Jen as she took a chair at the head of the table. “What do you think this is going to accomplish?” she asked.
Gunfire erupted outside and Jen ducked. Zeke crept to the window and peeked out.
“Looks like there’s some trouble at the chow hall.”
Jen smiled. “Imagine that.”
“What do you want?” Cartwright asked.
“What do I want?” Jen lined up her gun sights on the old bitch’s nose. “I want Wayne back. D-Day. My father.” She got her face down to Cartwright’s and screamed, “I want Doc back. Remember him?”
Cartwright closed her eyes and swallowed. “Hysteria won’t do any good. I can offer you safe passage from the base.”
A radio speaker crackled. “This is Howell.”
Jen exchanged a glance with Zeke. Zeke rushed over to the radio panel the voice came from. He picked up a mic and keyed it. “What the hell do you want?”
“I want to talk to Jen.”
Jen strode to the panel and Zeke handed her the mic. She pressed the button. “I’m talking to a dead man.”
“You’re on an active military airfield with hundreds of armed men. Don’t act like you’ve got us by the balls.”
“Maybe you didn’t notice your zombie problem,” Jen said.
The radio speaker clicked. “Perhaps you should take a look yourself.”
The gunfire ramped up. What the hell?
Jen lifted a window blind and peered toward the chow hall. Zombies poured out of the building and raced toward a half dozen Humvees lined up on the tarmac. Each Humvee rapidly launched grenades from their mounted Mark 19 launchers.
The horde was destroyed in minutes.
“It was a pretty good idea,” Howell said. “But you’re dealing with soldiers. We have tactics. What do you have?”
Jen ran back and grabbed the mic. “I have Cartwright, asshole.”
“You have the queen,” Howell said. “But that doesn’t match up when I have all of my other pieces.”
Shit. I was sure we had them on the ropes.
The Zombie Uprising Series: Books One Through Five Page 70