Surge (112 page)

“And she had Webby to
help
her,” Patsy repeats. “He helps her by gaining her immunity from being exiled into the wilderness.”

“What?”

“Webby fucks Dennington so that his grandmother can live at the compound,” Olivia says, putting it bluntly. “If he didn’t, Denise would have tossed her over the wall over a year ago; just like she did to the other twenty. But that was
before
I got there, because if I had witnessed her committing eldercide, I would have tossed her old ass over myself. When I
was
there, I warned that wrinkly bitch to back the fuck off, or I’d rip her throat out with my
‘savage’
teeth; and she did.”

“But when Ollie left, the threat went with her,” Patsy explains.

“So, now that I’m there for the duration, the first thing I’m gonna do, is bag me a hag,” Olivia says.

“You really think stirring up the pot is the best thing for you to do?” Patsy asks. “She already don’t like you, and now you have more people that Dennington can use against you.” Patsy points at me. “You got him and his group, then you got Ally, and Benny, Nikita, and Jameson...”

“I know, Patsy,” Olivia says. “But what the hell am I supposed to do? Sit back and watch that bitch abuse her power? I can’t do it.”

“You won’t have a choice,” Patsy counters. “And neither does Webby. Just leave it alone. If you fuck with her, she’s not just gonna lie back and take it, she’ll retaliate, and you won’t be the one she takes it out on.” I see Olivia close her eyes and her fist slam backward into the wall.

“You’re right,” she says through clenched teeth. “I fucking hate it, but you’re right.”

“I know it sucks,” he says. “But it is what it is. And if it weren’t her, someone else in that position would be doing the same thing. Dependence sucks, but we deal with it to survive.”

“What if it’s not enough to just
survive
?” Olivia asks. “What if we want to
live
?”

“Breathing’s all we got for now,” Patsy says. “Now, we gotta go out there, and stop a few assholes from having even that. Wally gave me the green light, and they’re gonna start working their way in from the front.” Olivia nods.

“Good, let’s do this shit,” she says and pushes off the wall. “Hope you got some room, Icky, ‘cause there’s plenty more where that came from.”

Victoria wheezes in response and drags her feet after Olivia. From her slow gait and lethargic state at night, I’d guess her to be a Gene K wheezer. If she were a Gene K+ or a new mutation, she wouldn’t have just sat there and been satisfied with the meal she ate; she would have been lunging at us relentlessly. It makes sense if she were infected by a daytime wheezer, since we left her in the early morning, so those were the ones that would have breached the barrier. So maybe the type of wheezer, does affect the type a person would turn into?

“Hey, Olivia?” I ask. She takes her hand away from the door knob, before turning to look at me. I point at Vicky. “Does it matter which one bites you, or does each person’s DNA decide which type of ape you become?”

“I haven’t really studied it,” she replies. “But the ones that I’ve seen, generally become whatever bit them. What about you Patsy, you see anything contradicting that?”

“Nah, pretty much the same,” he says. Olivia shrugs.

“For now, we’ll stick with that,” she says and I nod.

Olivia turns back to the door and grips the knob. She again peeks out and surveys the hallway before slipping through the cracked door with Victoria in tow. A hand signals for us to follow, and Patsy goes after me this time. I hear him shut the door behind us as Olivia continues down toward the double doors. Approaching the swinging doors leading into what I suspect is the kitchen, Olivia places her ear to it. Nodding at what she hears, Olivia shoves Victoria in front of her and goes into the room. She holds the door open with her foot, so Patsy and I slip through before she closes it gently with her hand.

“One guard,” Olivia whispers. “He sits on the other side of the wall.”

She points at the door across the massive kitchen area. There’s a long prepping table, three stoves, and six ovens, so this place was equipped to feed a ton of people. There’s also a strong smell of burnt bread in the air that’s left over from Olivia’s purposely botched meal. I also spot a huge soup pot on one of the stoves. I jerk my chin at it, and make a dead face. You know, the one where you tilt your head, stick your tongue out, and cross your eyes; since every person who dies has that same possessed expression on their face. But Olivia gets what I’m asking, and nods to say that it is the pot she used to poison the raiders out back.

Pushing Victoria along, Olivia cuts across the kitchen and heads toward the opposite side’s swinging doors. Patsy and I follow after her, and she passes me Victoria’s pole before placing her ear to the door. The only noise that I can hear is the ticking of the clock over the door, which must have amazing battery life to still be functioning. It also tells me that its 4:15 A.M., so we’ve been here for over six hours, thirty minutes of which were with Olivia. Who knows what time she arrived here, but I can tell that she’s more than ready to leave, especially when she pushes through the swinging door, and hurls her knife at the sleeping guard; guaranteeing that he won’t be waking up anytime soon with her dagger embedded in his eye socket.

Leaving her weapon where it lies, she takes back control of Victoria and walks toward the right in the two way hallway. I can see three doors down this way, but she walks straight past the first, and stops at the second one. Olivia looks at us, and signs for us to ready up, before placing her hand on the handle. Patsy pulls out his silenced handgun and one of the bombs in the other. I can’t tell which right now, but I guarantee that I’ll be finding out shortly. I too take out my silenced handgun and a knife, I have my crossbow strapped to my back, but I’d rather have the faster fire rate. Patsy and I signal that we’re ready, and Olivia turns the knob.

Pushing the door with her foot, she forces Vicky in first, and steps quietly into the room. It’s pitch black in here, so I can’t tell what kind of room we’re in, but I can hear someone snoring like a chainsaw; meaning that there’s at least one raider in the room with us. I hear something pop behind me, and turn with my knife raised, to see Patsy shake out a glow stick. He eyes my knife, and hands me the glow stick, before pulling out another one for himself. It’s one of those kinds that they give to kids on the fourth of July, so it only provides a little light, but it’s better than nothing. It’s also on a cord, so I wrap it around my wrist so that I can keep both weapons out.

Using the glow stick, I wave my wrist at the floor to see where I’m headed. There are boots, clothes and food wrappers all over the floor, so I sidestep anything that could potentially make noise. When I see a torn pair of Hello Kitty underwear mixed with the other shit on the floor, which I recognize as Olivia’s from back at our cabin, I stop abruptly. My fingers clench around the handles I’m holding, and my vision starts turning a little bit hazy.

Patsy bumps into me, and I stumble forward a step, but manage to catch myself before I face plant into the pile of dirty laundry. I feel Patsy tap my shoulder, so I glance over at him, and he holds up his hands to ask what the hell I’m doing. In answer, I point a finger at the ripped panties. He shrugs, not understanding the significance of a pair of women’s underwear, since there are female raiders that live here; but he gets it when I point in Olivia’s direction. Patsy’s normally jovial face, hardens and his green eyes appear to be as cold as glaciers.

Brushing past me, Patsy starts shining his glow light around the room. When he spots a sleeping body, he heads over and pulls a knife from his belt loop. Already knowing what he’s planning, I raise my light and flash it around the room to find a slumbering asshole of my own to deal with. These pigs deserved to be slaughtered, and I know that I won’t feel a single ounce of remorse when this shit is over. If that’s the wrong to think or feel, I don’t give a fuck. These bastards touched
my
Tomb Raider, and will pay for it with their lives.

I stop my frantic searching, when I spot some mother fucking snoozing on a coffee table. He’s belly sleeping with head is laid on a pillow at the other end, so I walk around the edge and crouch down low. I want to see this asshole’s eyes when I kill him. Placing my hand over his mouth, I raise my knife to his neck and feel him jerk, when the cool metal touches his flesh. He doesn’t wake up, but his brows furrow a little at the disturbance. Putting a little force into the blade, I make a small cut that has his eyes flashing open.

“You fucked with the wrong girl, asshole,” I hiss and drag my hunting knife across his throat.

The raider’s dark eyes are wide, and he’s gaping like a fish, but he doesn’t make any noise. I know it’s a fatal wound, and he’s quiet, so I let him suffer in silence as the blood drains from his neck. When his arms stop flailing, and his dead eyes look vacantly at the wall behind me, I clean my knife on his fatigue jacket and stand back up.

I spot the greenish glow from Patsy’s light down further on the right, so I continue my search on the left. As I walk, I see more furniture like tables with cards on top, and poker chips strewn across the floor, so I guess that this was formerly a gaming room; or at least that’s what the raiders used it as. I’m about halfway through the room when I hear a loud bang outside. And when I say loud, I mean really fucking loud. Loud enough to stir the bastard I was sneaking up on.

He sits up quickly, and shines his flashlight wildly around the room. Spotting me, standing less than four feet away from him with blood covered attire; he goes to grab his gun off the table beside him on the couch. He doesn’t reach it in time, since my bullet sinks into his forehead before he gets the chance. His head snaps back with the entry of the bullet, slamming his back against the couch cushions; and his greenish camouflage gets a splash of color, with an accent of red pouring down onto coat his collar.

I hear a bullet and feel one graze my sleeve, before I dive for the couch with the dead guy on it. I grab his still warm corpse, and pull it on top of me, feeling at least three other bullets land in his body. Knowing that I can’t sit here forever, since there’s the risk of them sneaking up on me without me seeing it, or a bullet making its way through this asshole’s body; I stand while holding the dead guy in front of me.

It’s hard to maneuver his fat ass, since the asshole has to weigh at least 260, and no it ain’t muscle ‘cause I can feel his beer gut draping over the front of his pants. I only make it about four feet while dragging the raider’s corpse, until I toss it aside in favor of jumping behind a tipped over poker table. The wood cracks as the bullets sink into the table, but none are coming through yet. Whoever made this mahogany table should get a five star review for their excellent durability.

“Jared!” Olivia shouts.

“I’m fine!” I call back.

“Stay the fuck down!” Patsy shouts.

It’s a little difficult to hear them over the gun shots popping off and the glass breaking, but I could pick out Olivia’s voice in a wind tunnel, and Patsy’s only about ten feet away. As soon as I heard his order, I glanced to my left and seen him behind a tipped over couch. I’m still looking at him, when he swaps hands with a grenade, and tosses it over his shoulder. Hearing a crackling pop, followed by a flash, I know that he used a flash bang. I use it as cover to run my way over to join Patsy.

“I said stay the fuck down,” he snaps.

“I’m all set with having splinters stick out of my ass,” I retort. Even with all the shit going on around us, I hear Patsy’s chuckle.

“Fine, then take one of these, and blind these mother fuckers,” he says. I put my hand out, and he places a grenade in it.

“I though you said that these were for professionals only.”

“Change of plans,” he replies. “Stay behind the couch, and just toss it over your shoulder when I say.” I nod at the directions and wait for the signal. Patsy pulls his AK-47 off of his shoulder and checks the clip, before snapping it back into place. “Alright, on the count of three. One, two, three...”

I toss the grenade over with my right hand like I seen him do. Patsy stays down long enough for the flash, then goes up on his knees and fires off rounds. He only does a small burst of the automatic weapon, before popping back down. Reaching into his bag, he passes me another of the flash bangs.

“I only got two left, but I want to finish these fuckers with this one,” he says.

“How many are there?” I ask. “Webby said that there were only twelve inside.”

“His count was off by about double,” Patsy says. My eyes widen a little. “Yeah, he probably seen a dark room, and skipped it. Can’t blame him, ‘cause I didn’t think there were that many either.”

“Great, where the fuck is Olivia?”

Patsy hikes a thumb over his shoulder, so I look around him to see where he’s gesturing. I spot Vicky first, since her straggly red hair picks up the shine from the flashlights. Red’s currently chomping down on one of the raider’s faces, while her pole is being directed by Olivia. She has her arm, that’s holding the pole, hooked around the side of an armoire, as she stays behind a buffet table. She’s small enough to duck behind it, but it’s not tall enough to stop someone from jumping over it. Like the asshole who looks to be thinking of attempting right now.

“Patsy, take the fucker out at nine o’clock,” I say.

“Toss a flash, and I’ll turn him into Swiss.” I nod and wait for his three count, before tossing the grenade in that direction. The flash lights up the room like lightning, and Patsy jumps up to his feet and bombards the corner with a burst of his AK.

“Got ‘em, let’s move,” he says. Patsy reaches down to grab his bag and loop it over his shoulder. I pick my knife back up, and wait for him to tell me which direction. “You can get up now, these bastards are done.” I stand back to my full height, and roll my shoulders.

“Olivia?”

“Right here,” she says as she steps out from behind the table. Olivia has a flashlight in her hand, which she flashes over at us, before she continues. “I miss Machie, it sucks to just sit back and wait, and these assholes don’t play fair.”