Tortured Spirits (46 page)

Above the roof, a helicopter came into view, trailing smoke. With its nose pointed down, the helicopter descended at a forty-five-degree angle. Its blades struck the earth and pitched the machine sideways at the ground, creating yet another explosion.

Jake and Andre looked at each other. Then hundreds of zonbies ran past them.

Grabbing the reins of his horse, Jake kicked his steed forward. “Yah!”

Russel helped Malvado to his feet and Maxime shook his head while chalky dust swirled around them.

“Are you all right?” Russel said.

“It will take more than mortar fire to unnerve me,” Malvado said.

The sounds of machine gun fire seemed to come from every direction at once.

A voice came over the radio. “This is General Buteau. Come in!”

Russel grabbed the microphone. “What's your status?”

“It's over. It's all over. There're too many of them, and they have firepower like I've never seen before. The palace is on fire. Evacuate. Evacuate!”

Dead silence.

“Father, look!” Maxime pointed at the TV.

Malvado raised his gaze to the monitor in time to see a statue of himself in a village square topple. Outside, an explosion roared.

“Only Mambo Catoute can protect us from these zonbies,” Malvado said. “We have to get to the Church of the Black Snake.”

Russel whipped out his cell phone and struck a button. “I need two armored cars out front to transport President Malvado to a safe location. I don't care if all hell is breaking loose!”

Jake rode his horse just behind the zonbies, careful not to trample any of them. Andre rode alongside him, raising his ATAC in one hand like a knight holding a lance.

The line of running zonbies stretched a quarter of a mile wide. Scores of soldiers wearing red berets came running around the corners on both sides of the palace.

They're terrified,
Jake thought.

The zonbies didn't even slow as they fired their machine guns, mowing down the oncoming soldiers with little
resistance.

The perfect fighting machines.

Jake's throat constricted as a wall of dark souls rose from the scattered bodies and faded. He had never seen so many souls at once.

Russel led Malvado down the palace corridor, with Maxime bringing up the rear. All three men held Glocks.

“What about your wives?” Russel said.

“To hell with them,” Malvado said.

“And your mistress?”

Malvado considered the question with an expression of regret. “Perhaps another time …”

“They're all wearing black snake tattoos. There's a good chance they'll be executed.”

Malvado shrugged. “Casualties of war. I'll just have to find younger wives and an even younger mistress.”

A prince among men,
Russel thought.

They heard machine gun fire inside the palace, followed by screams. As they neared the grand stairway, Russel raised his left hand, signaling Malvado and Maxime to stop.

Two shadows moved along the wall ahead, then two figures carrying high-tech machine guns. Filthy creatures with sunken eyes and tight, leathery flesh the color of a rotting fish.

Russel aimed his Glock with both hands and squeezed off two shots, dropping the corpses. Peering over the
stairway, he reached forward and retrieved one of the machine guns, which he examined. Then he chuckled.

“What's so funny?” Maxime said.

Russel tossed the machine gun to Maxime, who studied it with admiration.

“This is a big part of your problem,” Russel said to Malvado. “That's the ATAC 3000, the most sophisticated machine gun ever developed. The firm that created and manufactured it shut down a few months ago, making these very rare limited editions. One of them outputs as much firepower as ten conventional weapons. No wonder they were able to take down your choppers; the pilots had no idea they were in danger flying so low.”

“But how did these rebels get their hands on them?”

“Good question. If I had to guess, I'd say Louider's Black Hand. In the end, everyone's turned against you, even your own slaves. Come on, Max. Let's you and me carve up some turkeys.”

Jake and Andre galloped their horses along the side of the palace's left wing in the midst of the zonbie platoon. The flares in the sky had become more infrequent, and the explosions around the palace had been replaced with layers of deafening machine gun fire. Jake prayed Maria was safe. He had no idea where she was being kept.

A trio of soldiers broke their cover behind some bushes and fled across the side lawn.

An ATAC fired, cutting them in half and spilling their guts across the green grass.

Russel and Maxime unleashed their firepower as they ran down the stairway, blasting zonbies off their feet, then annihilating their skulls as they passed them. Malvado ran behind them. In the great hall, the three men rushed to the entrance.

Russel glimpsed two Humvees idling in the driveway below. “Let's go.”

They ran outside and down the cement steps. Fires raged all around them in the palace, the gardens, and the trees.

A soldier jumped out of the first Humvee and opened the back door. Malvado slid across the seat, followed by Maxime.

“Take them to the Church of the Black Snake,” Russel said to the waiting soldier.

“What about you, William?” Malvado said.

“I'll be right behind you in the second vehicle.”

The soldier closed the door and returned to the front seat. The Humvee rolled forward, then gained speed.

Russel strode over to the driver of the second Humvee. “Follow them.”

The second Humvee pulled away from the curb, and Russel crossed the lawn to the helicopter that had transported himself, Mambo Catoute, Maxime, and Maria from the Ministry of Defense earlier. Boarding the empty helicopter, he climbed into the cockpit and examined the
flight controls.

Jake watched two Humvees speed away from the palace and Russel get into the helicopter. “You follow your man,” he said to Andre. “I'll follow mine.”

“Right.” Andre faced the army of zonbies. “Anyone who wants a piece of Malvado, follow me!”

Jake kicked his horse forward and raced for the helicopter. As he galloped around the aircraft, he glimpsed half the zonbies running after Andre on his horse and half of them streaming into the palace. He felt sorry for anyone they found. Hopping off his horse, he drew his Glock and climbed into the open bay of the gunship.

Russel activated the helicopter's rotors. He had flown his share of whirlybirds in his life, and this one appeared no different than the others.

Clicking a series of toggle switches, he recoiled when a figure slumped into the copilot's seat. A Caucasian man with a bandaged stump for a left arm.

Helman.