Metal and Ash (Apex Trilogy) (59 page)

Other Brothers and Sisters were shouting over the com, their voices turning into one chaotic plea for direction, for guidance. For salvation.

“God has forsaken us,” the Pope said. “He has made his choice. We are no longer the caretakers of the Chosen. We, the ones that have tended His flock for generations, the ones that have sacrificed so much so that His will could be manifest within the wasteland, the followers and believers that have never, NEVER, questioned His will, we are cast aside to be nothing but food for His new angels.”

The Pope leapt down from his transport, his arms wide, inviting, and walked towards the mass of deaders, welcoming their embrace.

“Fuck that,” Brother Reynaldo said as he opened a roof hatch and jumped into the transport. “Fall back! Everyone fucking fall back now!”

“Disciples! Hear me!” the Pope cried. “You have been chosen to do God’s work! You are the-!”

There were no more words once his throat was ripped out.

“Madre de Dios,” Brother Reynaldo swore. “Get us all out of here!”

The Rancher transports backed up and several were able to make it past the surging horde. But most didn’t.

It didn’t take the zombies and Disciples long to tear into the transports, opening them like cans of rations, and plucking their tasty meals from inside.

***

“Uh, James?” Jay said over the com. “Am I looking at close to a million deaders coming after us? Or have I finally lost it and my mind is having fun making up nightmares?”

“It’s real, Jay,” Capreze said. “Get to the Stronghold.” Capreze opened the com. “Everyone into the Stronghold! NOW! Jethro? JETHRO! Prepare to close the hangar doors and any and all entrances to the Stronghold! Jethro! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?”

***

“Oh, my God!” June exclaimed as she ran to Jethro’s body. “He’s…he’s dead.”

“There’s a kid here,” LaFrance said as Lesh licked Stan’s unconscious face. “He’s breathing, but looks a little banged up.”

“Oh, shit,” June said hurrying to Stan. “Yeah. He’s been knocked out.” She spun about and looked at the Great Maker’s body in the cerebral integration chair where Jethro normally was. “And this fucker did it.”

June pulled her sidearm and walked over to the Great Maker.

“Uh, you sure you want to do that,” LaFrance asked. “What will it do to the system?”

“I don’t know,” June said. “But Jethro’s dead. There isn’t anyone to control the mainframe anymore anyway.”

“Are you sure?” LaFrance asked as he pointed to the vid screens. “Look. That guy is in there. See? Flashes of him keep showing up. Along with a girl.”

June watched the flashing, strobe-like images and frowned. “That’s…wait. That’s Rachel. No, the new Rachel. That’s Beth! Holy shit!”

“So maybe there is someone in there,” LaFrance smiled. “Then by all means put two bullets in that freak’s head.”

She pressed the pistol to the Great Maker’s temple and took a deep breath. Just as June was about to pull the trigger the Great Maker’s hand shot out and knocked her aside. A shot went wild and his eyes opened, focusing on June.

“You dare to kill me?” the Great Maker asked, his red eyes glowing fiercely. “Think you can sneak up on me?” The Great Maker’s laugh filled the room. “I can operate on all levels!” A shot of electricity fell from the ceiling and June went flying back against the wall, her gun sliding to the middle of the room. “No one shall escape my reach now!”

***

Railers and riders began to zip past Capreze’s mech and into the Stronghold’s hangar just as the door started to close.

“What the hell, Commander?” Jay yelled. “Who’s doing that?”

“Keep that hangar door open!” Capreze ordered, but the door continued its progress. Capreze quickly realized that control of the Stronghold had been compromised. “Everyone in that can get there! NOW!”

People ditched vehicles and scrambled to get inside before being crushed. In seconds the sound of the hangar sealing tight filled the air. Its finality a slap to those that still remained outside.

“Sound off,” Capreze ordered. “I need to know who we have out here.”

“There’s still about thirty of us,” Dog said. “Not that that is much help.”

“The train is locked and loaded,” Marin stated. “But we only have enough folks to man the guns. Someone gets taken out and we’ll be down a gun.”

“How many guns then?” Capreze asked.

“Twenty,” Marin replied. “We’ll keep firing as long as we can.”

“Still got us, Commander,” Styles 1 said. “We’ll lay down as much fire on these undead assholes as possible.”

“I’m here,” Charlie said. “I may be one guy, but Mel fixed my shock suit. I can do a lot of damage without getting a mark on me.”

“Ms. Bretton?” Capreze asked. “What’s your status?”

“I’m with Charlie,” Melissa replied. “My suit is impenetrable. Teeth won’t be getting through. I can adjust on the fly if I go down. That’ll keep me from getting trampled.”

“So is anyone exposed completely?” Capreze asked. “Either without a suit or a mech?”

No one answered.

“Good,” Capreze said. “Then let’s make this happen. Anyone have numbers?”

“I count close to 900,000 deaders,” Jay said. “If my scans are right. There could be more since they don’t stop moving and they’re fucking dead.”

“Well then,” Capreze said as he took a deep breath. “Let’s thin those numbers! Riders? I want you to press the attack. Fire at everything. Do it in waves with the front falling back behind as you get close. Then the next line takes up the fight. Keep that moving while we fire from back here. Styles? Just open up on everything, but keep the riders in mind. Ms. Bretton and Mr. Masterson? Hang back for now. Railers? Open fire and try to stay safe! We have one chance to stop this. If we can’t hold them back then they’ll overwhelm the Stronghold, keeping everyone inside trapped for who knows how long. We have no choice but to win.”

Sixty-Two

“I assume by your limited mobility that you won’t be a problem, Mr. LaFrance,” the Great Maker said.

“How do you know who I am?” LaFrance asked. All the data on him in the mainframe began to flash across the vid screens. “Oh.”

“I know everything about everyone,” the Great Maker said. “And I like none of it. It is time to stop humanity’s blasphemous assumption that survival is a right. The Stronghold must be purged.”

Claxons started to blare and warning lights spun in the mainframe room.

“What are you doing?” LaFrance asked in alarm. “Purged? You’re going to kill everyone?”

“Everyone,” the Great Maker said. “And I do not kill. I cleanse.”

“That’s a load of bullshit,” LaFrance laughed. “You kill.”

“I may begin with you,” the Great Maker said. “But I-.”

His voice cut off and LaFrance waited for him to continue.

“Hello?” LaFrance asked.

He looked at the still form of the Great Maker and then around for June’s sidearm. He saw it several feet away.

“Lesh? Fetch,” he whispered. The dog didn’t move. “Dammit. I guess Campbell didn’t work on that one with you.”

***

“I’m not going to let you do this!” Beth screamed as she attacked. She had no idea what she was doing since she had no body, but she pushed her will at the Great Maker’s and started to hammer him with her thoughts. “You fucking murderer!”

“A little girl cannot stop me!” the Great Maker roared as he mentally fought Beth back, their minds linked in a surreal mortal combat. “Little girls are nothing in this world!”

“Somebody really fucked you up,” Beth said as she looked for any kind of weakness in the Great Maker’s defenses. “And I’m going to fuck you up too.”

***

Dog went straight for the middle of the oncoming multitude of deaders. He didn’t slow for a moment as his mini-guns and rockets tore open enough space for his cyce just a split-second before he breached the deaders’ front line.

“Follow my lead! Try to split them!” Dog ordered as he ducked a few swiping claws and spun his cyce around and shot back out through the hole he’d created before it closed up on him. “Just keep cutting them to pieces!”

His voice sounded confident and he knew he could fight for hours, but he was shaking hard on the inside. For every deader he obliterated another ten, twenty, thirty took its place. He didn’t know if they’d ever really make a dent.

***

“Ok, boys,” Styles 1 said. “Keep your eyes open and you guns firing! Try to work from the middle out. I want 7 and 16 to shred what you can just ahead of the riders. 49 and 33 can hit the middle and start cutting ribbons. Try to make some space so our people on the ground can catch a breather here and there. And no friendly fire!”

“You got it,” they acknowledged as one. Styles 1 smiled and flew to the back of the mass, his missiles wiping the deaders out row by undead row.

***

Capreze, Jay and Rachel stomped and smashed the few deaders that got past the riders. They held off on the guns, wanting to conserve ammunition. They wouldn’t have the luxury of the Stronghold to resupply in.

Or make repairs.

Jay was hyper aware of the numbers of undead that came at the mechs and kept barking directions and locations of any large swarms.

“James! You have twenty coming up your ass! Rachel! Watch you nine! Watch your nine, dammit!”

“Watch your own damn nine!” Rachel snapped back. “I got mine covered, but you’re about to have a fucking parade run you down on your three!”

“Ah, fuck,” Jay said as he spun to the side and was forced to use his 50mm in the group that came at him.

Capreze smashed his fist into the ground, over and over, sending geysers of congealed blood and deader parts flying into the air. Everywhere he turned there were thick masses of deaders. All he had to do was keep punching, keep punching, keep punching.

“Marin?” Capreze asked over the com. “Where’re your guns at?”

“Everyone is in place, Commander,” Marin replied. “We just wanted to make sure we had every ounce of ordinance ready to go.”

“Then get to it!” Capreze yelled as he shook ten deaders from his fist. One crawled around his mech’s fingers and gripped the palm. Capreze clapped the mech’s hands and deader squirted everywhere. He shook the guts off and then got back to work.

***

The missiles shot from the Railer train and sped into the heart of the deader mass. Their detonations sent fire covered body parts flying through the air like undead mortars. The flaming projectiles fell on the rest of the deaders, quickly setting the drier ones on fire. The flames spread and soon there were patches of nothing but walking flames.

More and more missiles rained down on the deaders and the flames grew. The Railers and Marin cheered as they watched their attack actually start to drop the number of deaders that could move forward. But the cheers quieted down as they saw the flames spread towards the front creating a massive wall of fire. With legs.

“Ah, son of a bitch,” Marin swore.

“Not to worry!” Styles 1 said over the com. “I’ve got this under control!”

He brought the BTT low, just above the heads of the deaders, and opened up with all guns. Row after row of deaders fell and soon they had created a mound that was nearly a mile long of nothing but burning, putrid flesh.

“I’ll bet that doesn’t smell so great,” Styles 1 laughed.

“No shit, genius!” Marin replied as the smell of scorched death wafted over the train.

***

The levee of fiery flesh presented an issue for the riders. They had to pull back completely and reassess their attacks. They had been pretty successful with their attack and fall back strategy, but they did lose over a dozen riders. Even with the protective suits the numbers were so much that one single mistake meant a rider went down under tons of undead feet, basically getting pulverized and liquefied in their suit.

Dog checked the line and signaled for the riders to follow him.

“What are you thinking?” Immy asked.

“We get to the end and start to carve our way in,” Dog said. “Stay to the very outside of these things and cut them down, row by row.”

“We could circle about and whittle them down quickly,” Immy said. “I’m right behind you.”

The riders pushed their cyces as hard as possible as they raced to get around to the side of the flaming mass. But the deaders had the same idea and those that didn’t want to burn –a natural instinct for all things living and undead- had begun to work their way around the inferno before them.

The riders hit a rush of deaders just as they were about to turn. They didn’t see it coming and ten riders went down before they could adjust course.

“Fuck!” Dog said, knowing he’d led those men and women to their deaths.

“Don’t think about it,” Immy said. “Push it aside and keep going! No time for pity for the fallen!”

Dog understood her words, but he didn’t know if he could get behind the meaning. If he was to go back to Eden and actually lead then he’d have to show that he wouldn’t get them all killed. That part didn’t look so convincing to him at that moment.

“Cuz!” Immy shouted as she watched Dog slow. “Suck it up and keep going! No time to play pity party!”

Dog shook the uncertainty from his head and found the killer in himself. He had to. There was no other choice anymore. He sped through the horde of deaders that collapsed around him and shot out into open wasteland.

He kicked his cyce around, letting the machine pivot on the front wheel as he turned towards the mass. His mini-guns ripped and shredded until they clicked empty. He pulled his 9mm and emptied that, making almost every shot a head shot. When the 9mm clicked dry he threw it at a lunging deader, splitting the monster’s skull open.

Hands and claws grabbed at him and he couldn’t keep control of the cyce anymore. The machine shot out from under him as he was yanked backwards off his seat. Dog went down under a pile of rotten fingers and teeth.