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Authors: Margaret Madigan

BOOK: Hero for Hire
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“You guys see anything?”

They both shook their heads, so we left the office, closing the door behind us.

“So where’s the lab?” Randy asked. “We’ve been all over this floor but I haven’t seen anything that looks like a lab.”

I glanced at my watch, the glowing hands indicating we’d been there over a half hour. Way too long.

“Must be downstairs,” Rufus said, heading for the stairs.

Randy and I followed him. One floor down, we exited into a dark empty space. It was impossible to see anything, so I reluctantly flicked my flashlight on again. The light showed a foyer surrounded by an enormous semi-circular glass wall. When I stepped up to shine the light through the glass, I saw a huge lab full of all kinds of workstations. It reminded me of a fancier version of high school science class. Behind the lab, at the other end of the building, were some smaller rooms. I couldn’t see anything beyond that.

“Okay guys, we have to make this fast. We’ve been here way too long. I want to get out before it’s too late.”

I found the door in the glass wall was, of course, locked. What was it with these people and their paranoid door locking?

Once inside, I flipped the light switch, not really expecting anything, but I got a happy surprise when light filled the whole room. Electricity was a rare luxury so these guys must have had a generator somewhere. Wherever the power came from, I didn’t care, I was just glad to have it. At that point I was more interested in speed than stealth. So we spread out, searching workstations, cabinets, cupboards, any drawer we could find.

I was so lost in the search and how we’d better get the hell out, that I didn’t hear the door open.

“Hello, there,” a female voice said. “Looking for anything in particular?”

“Holy shit,” I said, jumping a foot backwards. I pulled my pistol in record speed.

The woman was tall, maybe a shade heavy. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, making her face look severe. Even worse, although she
sounded
normal, she
looked
like she was well on the way to zombie, with lesions all over her skin. She had the telltale rattle when she talked or breathed. To top off the crapfest, she was surrounded by half a dozen more near-zombies just like her, all of them pointing various weapons at us. In the foyer were a handful of full-fledged zombies.

“What the hell happened to you?” Randy asked, clearly not grasping the severity of our situation, although I wondered the same thing. Must have been some kind of exposure to either zombies or vaccine. Frankly, I didn’t care.

She glared daggers at him, then returned her attention to me. “You might want to put that down before we kill your little boys.”

“Who’re you calling little?” Rufus asked. I realized he had his weapon up, so I pointed my muzzle toward the floor, indicating he should do the same. I’d figure some other way out. There was no way I’d risk them getting shot.

“Good. Now, what are you looking for?” she asked again.

“Just looking for some pharmaceutical grade coke. No big deal. Actually, we were just leaving,” I said.

One of her minions started toward Randy, who backed away. The man-zombie just kept after him despite Randy’s frantic kicking, finally grabbing him by the hair and putting him in a headlock.

“Care to try again?” the woman asked.

I had no idea how I’d get us out of this. The look of barely guarded terror on Randy’s face didn’t help my creative muse, either. Unless I missed the mark, his still-fresh memories of zombie apocalypse street life wouldn’t serve him for the better here. I needed to get him out. Now.

Miriam tilted her head at me. “Well?”

“Just a couple of books,” I answered.

“What kind of books?”

I sighed. “Journals, actually.”

Her brows shot up and she barked a gurgly, rattling laugh.

“Gwyn Snow’s journals?” she asked.

I closed my eyes briefly, wishing for inspiration, but getting none. Rufus had inched his way to my side. He hung on tight to my pants leg.

“Yes. Gwen Snow’s journals,” I answered.

“Did she send you?”

“Yes.”

“So, the little bitch is still alive and working on a cure.”

“You must be Miriam,” I said, stating the now obvious.

She grinned. It was the most hideous cracked-lip, blistery grimace I’d ever seen.

“I’m going to let you go,” she said, “but only if you agree to deliver a message to Gwyn for me.”

My heartbeat thudded in my chest at my luck. I’d agree to anything to get us out of there. “Sure, no problem.”

“You tell Gwyn she can have her books, but she has to come here to get them to finish her work.”

“Sure. You betcha. We’ll tell her first thing when we see her. Won’t we, boys?” I headed for Randy, intent on freeing him. He looked like all his concentration was wrapped up in maintaining his sanity. “C’mon guys, let’s go.”

“I don’t think so,” Miriam said. “What guarantee do I have you’ll deliver the message? I think I’ll keep the boys as my insurance.”
 

Randy’s eyes got huge. He went crazy fighting to get away from the man-zombie, kicking, clawing and screaming. It was the perfect distraction to get Randy, so I grabbed my pistol and ran, with Rufus right behind me.

It only took a heartbeat before all hell broke loose with Miriam and her minions jumping into the chase. Randy did a backward head-butt of the man-zombie holding him, finally managing to free himself. I grabbed the front of Randy’s shirt and shoved him toward an exit sign at the back of the lab. Rufus scurried from behind me, following Randy. I ran after them, turning mid-stride to shoot at the closest used-to-be-scientist chasing us. My bullet hit him square in the face, stopping him in his tracks, sending a large chunk of his head spewing behind him.

That was enough gore for me, so I ran out the exit door after the boys.

“Stairs!” I yelled. We found the stairs at the corner of the building, slamming the door open, throwing ourselves down them at top speed. I heard the door crash open above us when we were halfway to the first floor. A whole herd of footsteps chased us downward.

When we spilled out of the basement stairwell, we found all the lights on. A woman scientist-zombie stood ready to release the room full of doomed experiments gone bad. My blood ran cold at the thought of being cornered by those things.

I turned to head back the way we’d come, but Miriam and her friends exited the stairwell heading toward us. Picking the nearest door, I kicked it near the handle, breaking it clear of the doorframe. Inside I grabbed a chair and swung it up at the window, shattering it.
 

“Come on Rufus,” I yelled, but when he didn’t answer I spun to find Randy back in custody, with Rufus halfway between us. He looked at me, then back at Randy, who at this point had tears streaming down his face. Fear showed on Rufus’ face, too, but he stepped to Randy and took his hand.

“I’ll stay with him, Rafe. You go get Gwyn.”

My heart exploded with pride for his courage, but my gut twisted at the thought of leaving them there.

I left the window, stepping right up to Miriam, toe to toe.

“If you harm either of them, I’ll make sure you pay for it. Don’t torment them, don’t torture them, don’t lay a fucking hand on them,” I said, poking her in the shoulder to emphasize each word. “Are we clear?”

“As long as you deliver Gwyn, these boys will be returned to you completely unharmed. I’m a woman of my word,” she said.

“So I’ve heard,” I said, climbing on the chair and pulling myself out the window. I leaned back in, catching a last glimpse of the boys. “Just be sure you actually keep your word this time.”

 

 

Chapter 5

 

“We need more firepower.”

Doc glowered at me, as if I’d been arguing with him. I hadn’t. We’d returned to the mansion some time ago and were still debriefing at the kitchen table with the rest of the boys. Doc and I were in agreement that our little excursion to my lab had almost ended very badly for us. It had definitely ended badly for the half dozen Infected I’d mowed down with my Land Rover while escaping.

“That had to be cool,” Rusty said.

“Yeah, wish I’d seen it,” Rocky said.

I set down the precious mug of coffee I’d been cradling.

“It was horrifying,” I said, shaking my head.

“Next time more of us will go. With more weapons,” Doc said.

“Maybe we should wait a couple days. But eventually I’ll have to find a way to get my things if I hope to keep working on a cure.”

He didn’t offer any response, apparently still reliving today’s debacle, so I reached over to touch his shoulder. “Thank you for coming along to help me. I appreciate it, even if we didn’t get far.”

“I hope Rafe’s having better luck than we did.”

He glanced out the window into the blackness beyond. There was no real reason for us to be worried. Rafe wasn’t due back for a while yet, but with the day we’d had, their safety was on everyone’s minds.

Doc straightened on his stool. “Okay, tell me what you needed from the lab, exactly. If we can’t get back in, we might be able to replace the bare necessities by foraging elsewhere.”

I tilted my head, closing my eyes to think. “Well, as force of habit, I brought my current journal with me. I carry it with me everywhere. My personal things don’t matter too much. The really important items are the lab equipment. Much of my research is still sitting in the lab, too, but I can’t do anything without some of that equipment.”

I opened my eyes and glanced over at Doc, who grunted before he responded.

“Right. That’s good news. What I need you to do is make a list of the equipment you have to have, and another list of equipment you’d like to have. Can you draw?”

I blinked. “Um, yes, I suppose.”

“Good. Draw an illustration complete with proportional measurements for each piece so whoever’s foraging can look for what you need.”

“I can do that, if you’ll get me paper and a pen.”

Roger hurried out of the room. He returned a couple of minutes later with a yellow tablet and pen. Apparently I had been upgraded from using the back of paper scraps. I went to work making lists. Once the lists were done, I drew illustrations of the equipment while Doc and Ricky worked on dinner. The rest of the boys drifted off to finish their chores.

After a while, my thumb cramped so I dropped the pen. While I stretched, I asked Doc a question that had been nagging me since I’d first arrived at the mansion.

“Doc, how did Rafe end up collecting orphans?”

Doc looked up from chopping onion. He smiled, the expression softening the hard planes of his face.

“Rufus was the first he brought home, shortly after we moved here. He was just a little guy, no more than four years old.”

“And his name wasn’t Rufus either,” Ricky chimed in.

“Right,” Doc continued. “But he was so little and scared, he couldn’t remember his real name. He’d had a tough time on the street. Once he got here, he had a hard time moving on– nightmares all the time, scared of everything. He’d pretty much lost his childhood.”

Doc stared down at the cutting board, remembering.

“So what happened?” I asked. “He seems good now.”

“Yeah. Rafe came up with a renaming ceremony. Told him he wasn’t that boy anymore. He had a new life, a new family, so he should have a new name. Rafe picked Rufus and the R names just kinda stuck after that.”

“I don’t even remember my old name,” Ricky said, clearly proud of his new one.

I smiled. “They really are Rafe’s family, aren’t they?”

Doc nodded. “Yeah. We all are. Rafe will do anything for his boys.”

I dropped my gaze back to the work I was doing, but my mind was elsewhere, trying to imagine what it would be like to have that kind of family, that kind of relationship with other people.

* * * *

We were still huddled around the table when Rafe strode into the kitchen later that night. He was later than expected, so we were already worried, trying to hide it by sitting around chatting, everyone studiously avoiding the mission. But the moment he stepped into the kitchen, I knew something had gone terribly wrong. His posture was tight, his eyes hard, his jaw clenched. He was alone. I stood, then froze, watching as he slumped into a chair. When he slammed both fists into the tabletop, I jerked out of my inertia.

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