LZR-1143: Evolution (35 page)

“Let me take the shot,” I said, extending my hand. “The blast could be dangerous.”

She shot me a serious ‘fuck you’ look.

“You have got to be kidding,” she said. “I ain’t gonna miss the opportunity to blow up a bunch of cars. Besides, when’s the last time you shot a crossbow?”

She had me there. In point of fact, I had never shot a medieval weapon. I had never held a lance, or a broadsword or even an armored helmet. Come to think of it, all that stuff would come in handy right now. Note to self: find a medieval weapons stash soon.

She nodded as I simply shook my head. I turned to Kate.

“Go below, I’ll watch her. We need one of us inside in case something goes sour up top. I’ve got her.”

She glanced at Ky, who was laying flat on the roof and lining up the shot, then to the thousands of creatures who were approaching. We could hear them clearly now, and the collection of moans was hideous. They seemed to breath out collectively and continuously, like a gigantic, writhing mass of death and decay.

Kate nodded once, and before I could react, grabbed my neck and kissed me soundly. Behind me Ky made a fake vomit sound.

“And I thought those zombies were gross. Get a frickin’ room.”

Kate slapped her playfully on the head and she turned.

“Don’t miss,” she said, then dropped through the hatch.

Ky rubbed the back of her head absently as she turned around.

“I don’t miss,” she said absently, closing one eye and lining up the shot. She wordlessly handed me the lighter, and I smelled the whiff of whisky coming from the rag wrapped carefully around the shaft near the barbed tip of the arrow.

“I’ll tell you when,” she said holding a small finger up to test the wind. I held the lighter in one hand and grabbed the roll bar surrounding the roof with the other. This was going to be a decent explosion, and I didn’t fancy getting thrown off the roof.

“Okay,” she said, drawing out the word. I heard her take a deep breath, and she steadied her hand. Beyond the closest row of packed cars, the first of the herd was filtering through, rotten flesh pressing forward in hunger.

Her voice shot out quickly at the end of a long exhale.

“Now!”

I flicked my thumb and touched the flame to the arrow. The rag ignited, burning fitfully near the tip, then the arrow leapt from the bow, streaking through the air and landing with a loud thump in the side of the can. The flame burned slowly and the arrow vibrated in the side of the thin metal.

“Isn’t it going to ...” began Ky, and I threw my body on top of hers as the explosion tore through the parked cars.

My ears rang as shattered glass and pieces of metal flew through the air. I screamed once when the twisted, four foot shard of steel embedded itself in my right shoulder. It burned like a red hot poker, and I could feel the hot metal char the entry wound as the muscles shrieked in defiance. I felt the warm flow of blood on the front of my chest as Ky squirmed beneath me.

The concussion rocked the bus back, but it held its ground.

Smoke billowed into the air, and a secondary explosion rocked the bus again as one of the adjacent cars exploded, its hood flying into the air and cartwheeling down fifty yards away. To the North, the moans hadn’t stopped. The creatures were close now, and the explosion had simply delayed the inevitable.

The hatch popped open and Kate emerged, gasping as she saw the metal lanced through my shoulder. I levered myself back with my left hand and released Ky, who was unharmed. She turned to me.

“What the hell, man? I ... oh shit!” She put her hand over her mouth and I smiled through the pain.

“Yeah, you owe me one. Now get below. Kate, can you help me out here?”

Ky disappeared into the bus as Kate stood over me. I tried to stand, but looked down, wondering in somewhat dazed and painful bemusement at the stream of blood that was flowing down the metal shard and pooling on the bus roof. The debris had lodged itself in the roof and I was pinned down.

Kate looked up at the approaching horde, and then forward. Our path ahead was mostly clear, and only one car stood between us and our hole in the fence.

She squatted next to me and said softly, “This is going to hurt.”

She glanced at the shard one more time.

“A lot.”

I said nothing as stars began to flicker in front of my vision. I wondered how far we could push this fast-healing thing. Did it cover blood loss?

Did I smell fried chicken?

Why did I hear the A-Team theme song?

I heard her straddle me from behind, and I felt the searing pain as she grasped the protruding edge of the metal.

As the bus engine revved, I screamed once, then it all faded to black.

Chapter 36

I awoke in the dark.

The soft sound of snoring was punctuated by the even softer sound of breathing close to me.

I sat up, looking around. We were in the bus, and the lights were out. In the cracks of the blackout paint on the windows, no light shone through. I squinted in thought, trying to remember what time we had been at the Interstate and ... Shit.

My hand shot to my shoulder, and I gently probed the hole in my uniform. My fingers crawled over my flesh and I marveled at the healing power of the vaccine. New skin had formed over the massive wound, and as I rotated my shoulder and extended my arm, I felt no after-effect of the impaling I had suffered during the explosion.

I moved to stand and felt woozy.

Check that.

Apparently blood loss is a significant danger.

I lay back down, reaching a hand out to feel for Kate. The soft breathing was nearby, and I wrapped my hand around the soft skin next to me, pulling her close.

A soft whimper shot out of Romeo as he thumped his tail twice and squirmed in my grip.

Behind me, Kate’s voice said softly.

“I didn’t know you swung that way,” she said, and I chuckled, releasing the poor dog. His tail thumped once and then was still.

“I blame blood loss,” I said quietly. “Where are we?”

“We didn’t want to lead thousands of zombies into our carefully crafted entry route, so we drove around the Metro yard on the small road circling the station. We disappeared into a huge warehouse for several hours, until they had passed us by. When we were in the clear, we snipped the lock off the utility gate, drove in, and locked up behind us. Now we’re taking a siesta inside the first tunnel. It’s the only one between here and D.C. proper, so we figured it’d be a good resting point.”

“So we’re in the Metro lines?” I asked, shocked that something had gone to plan.

“Yes indeed,” she said, hand on my arm. “How are you feeling? Any dizziness?”

I nodded in the dark, then realized that nodding in the dark was a waste of effort.

“Yes, but that’s all. My shoulder seems fine, and there’s no pain. But I guess blood loss isn’t as quickly cured.”

“I suspected as much,” she replied, voice clinical. “It wouldn’t be—that’s a process that the body would be hard-pressed to accelerate. But at least we can rely on the other effects.”

“What time is it?” I asked, disoriented.

“Around four in the morning. We have a few hours until we need to get started.”

I lay my head back and closed my eyes, suddenly exhausted and relishing the thought of sleep. She put her hand on my chest and I smiled.

“See you in the morning,” she whispered, a soft kiss landing on my cheek.

I didn’t even remember falling asleep, but I drifted off. Thick and dreamless, my body created the rest I so desperately needed.

The morning came early, and we rose quickly and quietly. There wasn’t much to say as we dressed, and I crudely sewed up the large tears in my flight suit. The charred fabric on the edges attested to the heat of the metal, and the size of the gashes made me shiver. If I hadn’t been juiced up, that piece of metal would have ended my life.

Then again, if I hadn’t been juiced up, I might have died several times before now.

George hopped into the driver’s seat and I went up top. We had decided to have one person ride recon on the roof and, after assuring Kate many times that I felt perfectly fine, I was the lucky volunteer. She wanted to stay with Ky and man the shotguns inside while helping George navigate, and I was happy for the fresh air.

We were inside a small tunnel, not really even underground. It was an elongated underpass that crossed under several large roads near the station. I was impressed at the group’s ability to elude the massive horde that had been bearing down on us yesterday, and marveled at how close we were to that scene.

Behind us, I could barely make out the New Carrollton station, at the end of the tracks. Before us, the tracks bent to the left and the view was blocked. On both sides of the tracks, we were surrounded by fencing, and protected from roving herds by the thick chain link. We weren’t concerned about the large numbers of zombies grouping together and crushing the fence, since, in theory at least, they should try to follow the bus as it moved. If we didn’t give them a reason to try to overwhelm one particular section of the fence and crush it with pure numbers, we should be able to move through the tracks quickly enough to prevent incursions into our little safe-haven.

I sealed the hatch beneath me and moved to the front of the roof, looking down at the puncture in the steel where the shard had skewered me and feeling the ghost of an ache in my shoulder as I settled down, securing myself to the roll bar with an extra belt looped around my arm like a shoulder harness, just in case. I carried the MP5 and an extra clip, hoping not to have to make the noise of using it.

Beneath me, the bus roared to life and I cringed at the sound, which echoed in the soundless morning air. As we started forward, I noted with satisfaction that we were moving along the tracks as we had planned, albeit not entirely comfortably. The off-road tires on the bus gave it the lift necessary to clear the metal rails on either side, and the bus straddled the rail furthest to the right as we moved forward. Our biggest concern, and one that seemed to have been obviated, was that somehow the Metro would still be drawing power, and that we would be unable to drive along the tracks, since the massive rail in the center of the two train tracks provided a high enough electric charge to turn any of us into a human torch.

But as we moved forward, wheels bumping over the ties in the tracks, I still slightly regretted the plan. It wasn’t so all-fired comfy up here.

I scanned the way forward for danger as we emerged from the small underpass. The tracks ahead were clear, and I looked to the sides to see if the engine noise and clattering were attracting attention.

On the left side, through the chain link, a landscape of factories and run-down apartment buildings sat, bereft of any signs of life. A large banner, probably a sheet in its better days, had a message scrawled on it and hung out the window: “Alive inside, need help now!”

There was no telling how old the message was, but I doubted its veracity now.

The sun was spreading morning light over the overgrown concrete parking lots and narrow roads that were passing slowly by. This portion of the tracks wound through the suburbs and commercial and industrial areas east of the city, and one of the benefits of our plan was the low population centers we would pass through on this line before reaching the city.

On the right side of the tracks, trees covered a portion of the landscape, relieved only by breaks for roadways. We passed under several more overpasses, and as we moved underneath the last, I spied a single zombie staggering across the bridge, eyes swinging down to the noise of the bus, large scraggly beard obscuring what I was sure was an open mouth, moaning in desire. Had there not been a four-foot guardrail on the ledge, I was certain he would have tumbled off the overpass, intent on finding his next meal.

For hours, we paralleled Route 50, and through breaks in the tree line between the tracks and the highway, I could see packed cars and a housing subdivision past the road. A thin tendril of black smoke rose from one of the homes within, and as we passed, I thought I saw the movement of a vehicle. I hoped I had, as signs of life had been far too sparse in the last few days. It made me despair of being able to deliver any meaningful change in the spread of the disease this late in the game.

As we approached the first station after New Carrollton, I stayed low on the bus roof and scanned for danger, knowing that the stations presented our highest likelihood of encounters, and our largest vulnerability. If a train blocked our pathway, or if a large herd hemmed us in, the stations would be the highest probability of weakness, as they were narrower, and not surrounded as effectively by fencing. We had to assume all the stations were open and operational when the outbreak began, meaning that, unless someone had maintained their shit well into the storm, all the doors were still wide open to roving packs of creatures.

As George pointed out, the Metro did have access gates and turnstiles, which might prevent all but the most opportunistic and curious creatures from wandering in, but I wasn’t as convinced.

I breathed easier as we neared the Landover station, noting that the parking lot was halfway full of cars, but that the station appeared deserted. No trains were stalled out, nor was it packed with wandering undead. I noted several decomposing bodies on the brick floor in random intervals, and wondered whether they had been zombies or real people.

But then again, I guess they had all been real people once.

We clattered along the tracks through a heavily wooded stretch, continuing to parallel a crowded and bumper-to-bumper Route 50, passing several isolated industrial buildings which were devoid of movement or life. At one point, Kate called up to me and tossed a power bar to the roof, which I hungrily snarfed down, realizing we had been driving for two hours.

As we neared the next station, my ears perked up with an unusual sound and I called down to ask George to slow the bus. We were between two wooded areas, but a large portion of the tree line was gone to our right, and I caught the telltale sounds of gunfire, now far more pronounced with the bus at a standstill.