Deadlocked 7 (25 page)

The mass of zombies that had been in the room were trying to pour into the hall, but the first of them had blocked the entrance as he clawed at Billy, the flames now surging up over his shoulders. Reagan shot the creature and then kicked it back into the others. He took aim and shot at what he hoped was head height through the shroud of smoke.

“Billy, get the girl,” said Reagan.

The young man crawled on all fours over to the screaming child, then stopped and set his elbow on the concrete floor. He reached around with his other arm and held his back.

“You okay?” asked Reagan.

“Yeah,” said Billy, though he clearly wasn’t.

“Can you get the girl?” Reagan holstered his pistol and loaded a fresh magazine into his M-16.

“Yes,” said Billy as he scooped the crying girl into his arms, stood, and then started limping toward the exit.

Reagan was going to offer to take the girl, but then the zombies started to appear from the other doorways that stood between them and Hero’s truck. The creatures were on fire, their old clothes like kindling to the hungry flames. Reagan took aim and quickly mowed the monsters down, splitting their skulls to pieces with the powerful rifle.

Billy was moving faster, seemingly past his momentary back pain, or at least dealing with it better. For a moment, it seemed like they were in the clear. The sunlight from the stairs pierced the smoke ahead, and Reagan knew they were less than ten yards from freedom. Then he heard the footsteps behind him.

There was a horde chasing them from the depths of the underground hall, burning and screeching as they flailed their limbs and ran to their meal. Reagan turned and started firing, but there were far more than he could hope to kill. He fired until the rifle was empty, and then drew his knife. He wouldn’t go out without a fight.

*   *   *

August 24
th
, 20 years after the apocalypse

Ben and the others are in the cell beneath the church.

The group was still trapped inside of the glass box as they waited out the fire that was consuming the church above them. They were drenched in sweat and far past exhausted as they stood wavering, desperate to sit but unwilling to collapse into the blood and bodies beneath them.

Ben was watching Harrison. The old man kept checking his pocket, by either reaching in or touching the outside. At first, Ben wondered if Harrison had been hurt, but now he suspected that the old man had stolen something. Everyone that knew Harrison seemed to agree that he was a thief, and that his relationships with the local settlements had been strained because of his sticky hands. Ben had been introduced to the old man’s dark side when they were in the medical truck.

Harrison had succumbed to a drug habit that he’d been fighting for decades, and had tried to distance himself from Ben by insulting him. That’s when Ben realized what Harrison had done, and why he kept checking his pocket; the old man had stolen drugs from Clyde’s kit when they were working on Annie. He was hiding them in his pocket.

“So have you thought any more about your twin back there?” asked Billy.

The question startled Ben, who had been considering accusing Harrison of stealing in front of the others. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it.”

“Sorry he died. Did you find anything useful on him,” asked Laura, who had been in this room investigating the cells when Ben searched the dead pilot.

“He had a scar on his shoulder, in the same spot as one that I got when I was a kid.”

Laura had the same reaction to the news that Billy and Harrison had earlier. The information seemed to be of little interest to her at first, but then the implications sunk in. “So, wait a minute,” she said as she scowled. “How is that possible?”

Ben
looked at his hands as he held the panting dog. He had a myriad of scars, but now he wasn’t sure if he owned them or not. “I’ve been trying to figure that out since I saw it.”

“Did you have the scar before you got caught by them?” asked Harrison.

“Yes,” said Ben.

“Then maybe they tried to make that pilot a perfect copy of you,” said Harrison.

“But why?” asked Ben. “I don’t understand what that would accomplish for them.”

“When were you captured?” asked Laura.

Harrison looked at Ben as if in apology. Laura saw the odd exchange and became concerned. “Is there something you’re not telling us?” she asked.

“It’s nothing bad,” sai
d Harrison as if eager to keep the Rollers from turning on Ben. “In fact, it’s actually pretty amazing. You should tell her, Ben.”

“My father knew about the conspiracy to release the disease,” said Ben. “And he trained me in survival techniques so that I could take care of myself after the apocalypse, but he also gave me those files that you saw. Each file was on a person that he said played a part in the conspiracy. He wanted me to seek each of them out and kill them.”

“Right,” said Laura. “I remember you telling me that part. When did they capture you?”

“It was in Georgia, right after t
he virus was released. My father knew that one of our targets was stationed at a prison there, and he let me get captured and taken in. He said that I was immune to the virus, and that he wanted the scientists to get a chance to study me, but he also wanted me to kill the target. I was told to allow them to run tests on me, and as soon as they were finished I was supposed to get loose, kill my target, and then get out.”

“Christ,” said Zack. “How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

Zack shook his head and whistled. “That’s nuts. What a thing to expect out of a kid.”

Laura stayed quiet, and Ben wondered if she was putting the pieces together. He continued while watching her reaction, “They were running tests on kids there, and injecting them with different versions of the cure. Most of the kids died, and turned into zombies, but others just screamed in pain as the experiments ate their bodies from the inside out. I saw some horrible stuff. The versions of the cure they were making ate protein structures, including bone cartilage.”

“I thought they already had a cure,” said Billy. “They were giving it to some of the soldiers. It was what they put in that antibiotic: Dori-something-or-other.”

“That was for the original virus,” said Ben. “But I had been given a cure for a new, stronger version. I’m immune to the Greys as well as the Poppers.”

“So is Annie,” said Laura. “And she was in a prison in Georgia at the same time as you.”

Ben nodded at her, and then waited a moment before saying, “I know.”

Harrison pointed at Ben and excitedly blurted, “He was there, Laura. He’s the one that saved Annie.”

“Holy shit,” said Billy.

Laura was expressionless as she said, “You’re her guardian angel.”

Ben nodded.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” asked Laura.

“Kim told me that Annie always thought it was her father’s spirit that saved her,” said Ben. “I guess I liked her version better.”

“He saved Annie,” said Harrison, expecting Laura to be ecstatic with the revelation.

Laura furrowed her brow and looked as if she wanted to step away from Ben. “So you’re the one that killed everyone in that room? You sliced all those men up like that? When you were just thirteen?”

Ben nodded.

“I don’t know what to say.” Laura put her hand over her mouth and then wiped sweat off her cheeks as she contemplated what Ben had told her. “I guess I’m thankful that you protected Annie, but I just can’t imagine a thirteen year old doing the things I saw in that room.”

“I know,” said Ben. “That’s why I wanted to just let Annie think it was her guardian angel instead of some psychotic assassin.”

“And now you end up here,” said Laura. “That can’t be a coincidence. Can it? That doesn’t seem plausible.”

“I’ve been trying to track down the people
in those files, and it led me here. My whole life has been about revenge.”

“That’s a hard way to live,” said Laura, and she looked at Billy.

“Yes it is,” said Billy.

“And yet here you are,” said Harrison. “Stuck in the basement of
a church while the whole world burns above you. If you can come up with a better phoenix metaphor than that, I’d love to hear it. Time to rise up, kid. Forget the sins of the past and be reborn. Am I right?” He looked at the others. “Baptized by flames. If we survive, let’s get out of this place and find the folks we love, and grow old with them. If life’s taught me anything, it’s that when you go looking for a fight, you end up getting beat to hell.”

Laura squeezed Billy’s hand. “I agree, Harry. We’d all be better off if we tucked tail and ran. We’d live a lot longer, and be a hell of a lot happier if we could just forget what happened here.” She looked at Billy and then at Zack. “But I’m no saint, and there’s a piece of shit out there that killed Kim and nearly killed Annie. And he’s going to pay
for it. If nearly burning to death in the basement of a church is your idea of a phoenix metaphor, then Jerald Scott had better be damn scared of the bird that’s rising from these ashes.”

A whistle started to emit from the pipe near the bottom of the cell. It grew in intensity as the group stared down at it, and then Billy screamed out, “The tanks!”

They tried to take cover, but there was nowhere to go. The oxygen tank that was feeding the cell finally succumbed to the heat and exploded. It was located somewhere in the wall, but the blast sent concrete and wood careening through the room along with a resurgence of flame, now fed by fresh oxygen and burning like an inferno outside of their door.

The reinforced glass of the cell was undamaged by the explosion, but the momentary relief of that was swiftly forgotten as black smoke began pouring in from the pipe below. Billy tried to cover the
opening, but the smoke was too hot and he had to pull away. Zack pushed him aside and pressed his gloved hand to the pipe to stop the flow of smoke.

“Well now look what you guys did,” said Harrison. “All this talk about revenge went and got the Devil all riled up. He’s getting all excited now, trying to blow us out of our cage.”

Ben saw the old man clutching his pocket in the chaos, protecting whatever he was hiding in there. Ben took the old man’s wrist and pulled his hand away. Harrison was startled, and then scowled at Ben, but stayed silent as the others were focused on the explosion and how they were going to get out in the midst of an inferno.

Ben reached into Harrison’s pocket and found a vial of black liquid. The old man trying to pry the vial away, but Ben’s grip was too tight.

“Come on, Ben,” said Harrison. “I need that. You know I need that.” His whisper sounded like a pleading snake, quiet but furious. “You know I need that. Don’t take it away.”

Ben held the vial in his fist and then put his other hand on Harrison’s shoulder. “Rise up, brother. We’re going to get out of here, and you’re going to leave this behind. Got it?
”

The others were debating how to handle the fire, and whether they should leave, but Ben focused on Harrison. He gripped the old man’s shoulder and then pulled him in for an embrace. “I’ll leave my past behind if you’ll leave yours. Deal?”

“I hate you, Chinaman,” said Harrison, but his soft tone let Ben know he was joking. “You’ve been nothing but trouble since the minute I met you.”

Two years after the apocalypse

Billy and Reagan are trying to escape the facility in Nederland.

The pain in his back was excruciating, but Billy continued to carry the girl through the hall. The smoke had thickened, blinding him as he went. He knew the stairs were close, just straight ahead a few more feet, and then he collided with them. He fell forward, the girl’s weight dragging him down, and his shin struck the concrete stair first. He almost steadied himself, but then the pain in his spine surged and he collapsed the rest of the way. He dropped the girl and she cried in agony as her back cracked against the stairs. She bent back at a horrific angle, and her scream turned to a gasp. She started to convulse, and her scream turned to a gurgle before she started to cough up blood and phlegm.

Billy
stood, the pain in his spine searing him as he did, and picked the girl back up. Her body folded in half like a sack of grain, her arms dangling below her head as he held her. It was a grotesque image, made worse by the sensation against his arm of the upper half of her spine sloshing about, detached from the lower. Her body dangled like a wet towel over his arm, and blood was dripping from her face.

“No, no,” said Billy as he set her down on the stairs. “What happened? Oh my God, what happened?” He set her head down flat on the stair, but she was clearly dead. Blood and saliva wet her lips, and her eyes were rolled back, rimmed with fresh crimson.
He felt helpless as he held her face. He felt for a pulse on her neck, but knew it was a useless attempt.

He could hear the sound of a struggle behind him, but the smoke was too thick to see anything. Reagan had stayed back to fight the creatures that appeared from the rooms, and was now stuck in the smoke and flames, continuing to try and help Billy save the girl.