Running With The Horde (Book 2): Delusions of Monsters (33 page)

              “Perhaps I have a thing for older men,” she said as he felt her hands begin gently massaging his shoulders. “Besides, maybe I’m older than I look.”

              “Not possible,” he said, closing his eyes and losing himself to her touch. The apocalypse was terrible but there were certainly worse ways to spend it.

…

              The days turned to weeks and soon winter had a full death grip on the land. But they were warm and snug in the city, waiting by the radio, answering the occasional bizarre caller on the other side. Most were survivors begging for salvation. Bill was inclined to help them but was voted down by the others. Even though they had power, heat and food, they didn’t have an unlimited supply of fuel for the helicopters. They had to save them for the possibility of an actual George sighting. If humanity was going to survive it would be because they had George to help them eliminate the zombie problem. It was one of the few things Vicki and Derrick agreed on. So instead Bill lied to the survivors and told them they were on their own. It was only a handful of times but each time it was awful.

              The Syndicate was curiously silent. There had been no attempts to retake the Government Building. No additional troops flown in from places unknown. Vicki speculated they had exhausted their resources or been overrun by zombies. The troops that were left in the city were numerous but changed sides without complaint. Lack of leadership, Vicki had said. They agreed everyone should continue as before with their assigned jobs. Guarding the walls and access points or policing the streets and skyways.

“These soldiers are just like any soldiers,” she counseled. “Keep them fed and give them a routine and they’ll keep on soldiering until the end of time.”

Bill couldn’t see the flaw in her logic and everything had worked out so far. Derrick didn’t like the idea of Vicki having his ear so much. He made that clear and also kept himself scarce when Bill told him he would hear no more negative talk about Vicki. Derrick had been gone for a few days on one of his scouting trips in the city when he suddenly showed up with some unpleasant news. He had found Shipman dead in his office. The failsafe and the Sonic Barrier Device were nowhere to be found. “He was tied and up and had the shit beat out of him. He didn’t die easy,” Derrick said.

              “Who in the hell would have done that?” Bill asked.

              “Beats me,” Derrick said. “Whoever did it was real pissed. That was a rage killing if I ever saw one.”

              “I would have thought he had run to his fortress,” Bill said.

              “I’m guessing he had no way of getting there,” Derrick said.

              “He had a fortress?” Vicki asked with a grin.

              “He sure did,” Bill said. “Spent his fortune of ill-gotten gains building it. Most of that money courtesy of the Syndicate.”

              “It sounds like he was a truly wonderful man,” Vicki said.

              “He was a lot of things but wonderful wasn’t one of them,” Bill chuckled.

              “Do you know where his fortress was?”

              “Not specifically but somewhere to the south of Minneapolis. I would guess it’s a ways down there. Why do you ask?”

              “Well, I just think. You know. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to find out where it is. Just in case we needed to bug out of here in a hurry. He couldn’t get a ride there but we have helicopters,” she said.

Bill raised his eyebrows at Derrick.

              “I guess she’s right,” Derrick said in a grudging tone, “It couldn’t hurt to have a secure fallback site. Knowing Shipman, that place can probably fit everyone in the city. I can head back to his place and see if I can track down an address. The dude had to have it written down somewhere. I just hope it’s not stuck in his own shit again.”

              The days crept on like a perpetual Ground Hog’s Day, each one strikingly similar. More false alarm claims of George sightings from desperate travelers. Nerves were on edge and people were crabby. Even Vicki was quick to lash out with a venom Bill hadn’t thought her capable of. Unless he counted the times he’d seen her mowing Syndicate soldiers down with an assault rifle.

The day the call came in was just like the fifty that preceded it. Bill was dozing on the chair near the radio and Vicki was pacing. A barely audible stream of curse words flowing out of her pretty mouth. Bill was half asleep when Vicki jostled him fully awake. “Are you going to pick it up? There is a call coming in,” she asked with fake politeness in her voice.

              “What? Oh, yes,” he said sitting up straight. He cleared his voice, pushed a button on the receiver and said, “Command,” with as much authority as he could muster.

              After a moment of static a man’s voice came through the speaker, “Um, hello, Command. We have information about the man on the poster, George McCloud?”

              Bill let out a long bored breath. He’d been taken many such calls. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

              “I’m telling you, sir,” the man said.

              “Do you have him?” Bill said.

              “Not exactly, sir, but we have something that he wants.”

              Bill could feel his heart quicken as he got the sense this man wasn’t lying, “Where are you calling from?”

              “The City of Friendly, at the police station. There was no one else here. No one alive I should say. We let ourselves in,” the man said.

              That was the kicker, they were in the right city! Bill turned to Vicki with a big grin and gave her the thumbs up. She smiled back and motioned for him to get on with the call. He nodded and started barking questions at the man on the radio. A few minutes later it was over and Bill sat back refreshed and excited. He was going to be a grandpa! Most likely anyway. He probably shouldn’t put the cart before the horse. They had an exfiltration of eleven people to plan and maybe a day or two at the most to plan it. When Tegan Matthews fired off that flare gun they had to be ready with the helicopter.

              “Well I guess congratulations are in order, Grandpa Bill,” Vicki said. “If this pans out we won’t even need George. I’m not a scientist but I bet that fetus is carrying the same control virus as dear old dad.

              Bill was busy jotting down some notes on a pad to make sure he had thought of everything for the extraction. It took a moment for what she said to register in his brain but when it did he was confused. “What the hell are you talking about, Vicki?” he asked.

              “Actually, Bill, I see no need for us to continue this charade. My name is Harrie and I actually lead the Syndicate interests here in Minneapolis. You should’ve listened to Derrick. He had me pegged almost from the start. I wouldn’t feel too bad, you aren’t the first fly I’ve lured into my trap and I’m sure you won’t be the last.

              He turned in confusion just in time to see the butt of her rifle arching toward his face. Then an explosion of pain and he felt himself fall. The light hurt his eyes. He could see two Vickis standing over him by the desk with the radio on it. They both picked up a handset and started talking into them
.
Two Vickis? Two handsets? What the fuck was going on? Who the hell was Harrie
?
He heard the door open and several sets of boots walk in.

              “Round up all of Bill’s people. Lock them up in the holding cells. Keep things quiet until you have Derrick. That one is shoot on sight. If anyone resists or won’t go easy you have my permission to use deadly force, just do it silently until you get the big guy. Now go,” Vicki said.

              Bill heard footsteps leave the room and the door shut again. He tried to sit up. “Vicki, what are you doing?” he slurred, thinking he might have a concussion. The dark spots in his vision refused to go away.

              “Still awake, old man? I told you my name i
s
Harrie
,
” she said just before hitting him again with the rifle. The dark spots grew in an instant to an all-encompassing void and swallowed him whole.

The Past

“You had one job, Harrie,” Tom said, “No pun intended but you’re kind of on thin ice up there. Anymore screw-ups could find you on the losing team. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

Harrie wanted to break the handset into a million pieces but instead she said as sweetly as she could muster, “Of course not, Tom, but let’s be honest as we assign blame, shall we? It wasn’t one job, it was two ridiculously impossible jobs wrapped into the world’s largest cluster fuck. A cluster fuck, I might add, that your lack of Dick oversight created!”

“Listen, Harrie, I need you to calm down and focus on the task at hand. You can still bring in our boy. I have total faith in you. Have a drink. Soothe yourself and get it done.”

“And just how would you propose I do that?” she screamed. “The city is surrounded by zombies hundreds deep! I’ve got a madman running around taking out my soldiers by the dozens! I am literally trapped in the Government Center! Dick is probably also still out there skulking around somewhere! I’ve got no way to know if this George McCloud is even still alive for me to capture! How do you suggest that I GET IT DONE?”

“You’ll figure something out,” Tom said and then hung up.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Harrie yelled to the empty control room. She then proceeded to indulge her earlier desire to smash the handset into the heavy steel desk until it snapped and then broke into smaller pieces. When she was done and breathless she threw it against the wall and sagged to the ground dry heaving. She looked down to see she’d skinned her knuckles against the desk.

Her world was currently the shittiest of all shit sandwiches ever thrown together by the evil shit-lord that created such things. About the only thing that had gone right was recapturing John Reynolds back when she first arrived in town. That had been a bloody battle with just that one slim victory to call her own. She hated reliving that dreadful day.

An anonymous tip had been called in, revealing the location of the secret lab. By pure chance she arrived with her people almost simultaneously with Dick. Only John Reynolds had been onsite. The other scientist had clearly been better at hiding. She got to Reynolds just before Dick did which resulted in a long shootout. She was almost positive she had winged him before he escaped but she knew he was still alive and she’d have to deal with him eventually.

If it hadn’t been for Bill’s soldiers appearing out of nowhere, she may have been able to kill Dick that day. She would have been done here months ago, back to torture Muddy a while longer. But no sense crying over spilled blood. She had sent Dr. Reynolds south when the Syndicate was still running regular flights. He was Tom’s problem now.

She was sucking the blood from the top of her hand when her top lieutenant came charging through the door. When he saw the sight of her, he paled and turned to leave.

“Stay!” she demanded. She hadn’t bothered learning his name. She was cycling through leadership-worthy soldiers faster than she could keep track of. The nameless soldier turned back at her command. He looked like a guilty puppy and Harrie almost laughed. “Help me up,” she said. He pulled her up and she dusted herself off. “Status report,” she said.

“The choppers are fully fueled and ready to go when you give the green light. With the Sonic Barrier Devices we will be able to safely refuel along the way and be down to Galveston within a three day window, provided all goes well.”

“What about the mercenary?” she asked.

“Anyone in a uniform gets picked off if they leave either by skyway or street level. Doesn’t matter if we send one man or twenty. They all wind up dead. And before you ask, we’ve tried sending people out in civilian clothes. Somehow he knows. He is keeping us penned in here.”

“Fucking Derrick!” she said.

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

“That’s his bloody name,” she shouted. She wished to high heaven she had killed him in his sleep while she had the chance. “And you are certain he hasn’t taken out our civilian friends?”

“Not certain, no, but he hasn’t touched the big guy in the lobby. He hasn’t even approached him so it stands to reason the others are fine as well. Can’t you just hand over the old man? He’s made it very clear that’s all he wants.”

“No, dumbass, I can’t give him Bill!”

“We can’t fight him on his turf, ma’am, he is bleeding us dry.”

“I’m not handing over my only bait to lure in George McCloud,” she repeated.

“He isn’t the only bait. We’re holding a bunch of people that were running with George’s crew.”

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Mitchell Patton, ma’am.”

“Like the general?”

“It’s spelled the same but no relation as far as I know.”

Mitchell had a point. A pity she hadn’t thought of it earlier. She had the pregnant girl, Daisy and her sister. She had the men and boys they’d brought in the day before. Perhaps she had more moves than she thought. Though aside from Daisy, Harrie had no idea if the others meant anything to George McCloud. Nothing a few interview sessions wouldn’t solve.

The real problem was how to neutralized Derrick. Mitchell was correct on another issue; they couldn’t continue fighting Derrick in the city. They were losing a war of attrition. The only advantage she still had over him were the three helicopters awaiting their departure on the roof. All fueled up and ready to take her and a chosen few to Galveston. But she couldn’t go anywhere until she had George or confirmation he was dead. Then she remembered Shipman’s fortress.

“Mitchell. I need you to bring me all the prisoners from McCloud’s crew. Tell that jackass, Captain Morgan I need to see him as well. Make sure you bring plenty of guards to assist me while I talk to the prisoners.”

“Are you sure you can trust Morgan, ma’am?” Mitchell asked.

“I don’t see why not. The man is a mercenary, plain and simple and I’m offering the only currency that means anything anymore.”

“What is that?”

“Another day under the sun, Mitchell.” The man nodded once and left to do her bidding.

…

Mark felt like he’d been kicked by a mule as the guards shoved him into the control room. He stumbled into Sam and Jacob and knocked both of them to the floor. He had never really been beaten before yesterday. He had now been beaten three times, for reasons he had yet to ascertain.

He pulled the boys to their feet and moved as directed toward a row of chairs arranged in the center of the room. Only three open seats remained. Two women, who appeared to be twins, were already seated along with Lanskey, Wilson, Steven and Wilbur as Mark and the boys took their places. The soldiers filed in behind them, armed and ready to react to potential insubordination.

His traveling partners looked like they’d received the same treatment he had, maybe even worse. The boys had been spared any beatings. The women also seemed okay. The thin one looked ready to fight a bear at the slightest provocation and the pregnant lady looked scared and sad. He realized with a smile she must be the infamous Daisy.

“Well, sir!” a woman said. “It appears you are enduring your internment with a smile! Care to share with the class what has touched your heart and filled your abused face with such a joyous smile?”

Mark turned his attention to the front of the room and was surprised by the woman’s stark beauty and gaudy attire.

“Oh what? You are surprised by my dress? Well if you only knew me! I had to walk around in rags for months but now that’s over and I can just be real. I’m kind of a high-class gal and I like to show it off.”

“Good for you,” Mark said dryly.

“See, now you’ve gone and lost your smile. And it was such a cute one! These are your boys I presume?”

“They
are
my boys!” Mark shouted and started to rise. “If you lay
one
finger on them-“ He was shoved back into his cold metal chair so hard his ass went numb.

“None of that, Mr. Nestler. We are all going to stay calm and professional while we have a chat. As to the welfare of Masters Jacob and Sam, that all depends on how helpful you are to me. Before you joined us we were discussing everybody’s favorite topic: George McCloud. The only reason we brought any of you into our safe haven is because I need to find George. Time is something we no longer have so today Harrie is going to get answers. That is me by the way.”

A knock at the door put a temporary pause on Harrie’s speech while Captain Morgan walked in with two other men dressed in uniform. Mark’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he realized one of those men was Randolph. For the briefest of moments their eyes met and Mark saw him wink as the trio moved to the other side of the room. There was no sign of Gallegan.

“Thanks for joining us, Captain Morgan,” Harrie said.

“I live to serve, ma’am,” he replied in a gravelly drawl.

Harrie cleared her throat and continued, “As I was explaining to our guests, I want to know everything they know about George McCloud.” She turned her attention back to the prisoners. “I’ve heard some crazy rumors and speculation but now I want to hear from you. If you talk you get to live.”

Mark glanced down the row. The ladies were silent and still. Steven investigated something on his shoe. Wilson and Lanskey stared straight ahead and the boys fidgeted but nobody spoke. A long moment passed as Harrie walked from person to person until she stopped in front of Mark.

“You know, Mr. Nestler, you have the most to lose out of anyone in this room. It must have taken an extraordinary amount of will and effort to keep two young children alive this long.”

Mark could feel himself start to sweat under her scrutiny. He prayed she wasn’t crazy enough to hurt his boys. His mind flashed back to that dreadful house. He could see Tessa brandishing the knife. Still he said nothing.

“I see you need some encouragement. I need you to understand that I care only about one thing. And that is completing my mission and getting the fuck out of this God forsaken city. I will kill everyone in this room to do it if I have to. That includes your boys.”

Jacob, Sam, Wilbur and Daisy all started crying. Mark felt his heart pounding in his chest and cursed himself internally for ever going along with George in the first place. “What do you want to know?” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Anything!” she screamed. “Everything! What makes him so special?”

“He, um, talks to zombies.” Mark said.

Harrie laughed, a light lilting giggle that seemed entirely out of place in the room. “He talks to zombies you say! Like what, over coffee and donuts? Captain Morgan, give me your sidearm,” she commanded.

The barrel-shaped captain chuckled as he unbuckled his holster and pulled his gun out. He walked it over to Harrie and handed it to her butt first.

“Mr. Nestler, you clearly don’t see me as a serious person,” she said as she stood in front of him. “I won’t start with your kids. I’ll save them for last. I can’t kill Miss Daisy for obvious reasons,” she said as she moved down the line tapping the barrel of the gun on Daisy’s head. Daisy flinched and Harrie moved on to Rosie. “This one I should kill,” she said.

Rosie looked up at her with a vicious grin and said, “Do it, bitch.”

“No,” Daisy screamed.

“Relax, Daisy, as much as I want to, I can’t kill your sister just yet. Otherwise how would I keep you in line?”

“But these four, Mr. Nestler, do you care for them at all? I’ll bet you do a little. Road weary fellow travelers and all? Which one should I kill?”

“I told you,” Mark shouted. “He talks to zombies!”

“Should I kill Harpo? Groucho? Gummo? Or Zeppo?” she asked, tapping the barrel from one head to the next.

“He can make them do whatever he wants!” Mark shouted.

“I think Gummo,” she said and fired the pistol into Steven’s head.

The blast of the gun did something to Mark’s hearing. For a while there was only the muted sounds of chaos in the room and a ringing in his ears. Hot tears poured down his cheeks as he watched Steven, still sitting his chair, dead as a doornail with a bleeding hole in his head. His eyes were open and he had the same dopey expression on his face he always had. Mark never really cared for Steven in the short time he’d known him.

But still.

The sound came back all at once. Daisy was sitting stock still. Rosie, Lanskey and Wilson were getting clubbed by the soldiers because they had went berserk. Steven had been knocked off his chair in the commotion and fallen on top of Wilbur who was softly whimpering under the body. Mark glanced around for his boys to find them both huddled at his feet embracing. He looked at Harrie. The beast of a woman was back at the front of the room with her arms crossed and a bored expression on her face. When she saw him looking she smiled.

From the corner of his eye he saw Randolph hustle over to lift Steven’s body off of Wilbur. From there things got deadly quiet again until Harrie broke the silence. “Who shall I kill next, Mr. Nestler?” she said with a grin.

“Please don’t kill anyone else. I’ll tell you everything I know,” Mark said. And so he did. From the very first moment he encountered George McCloud. He spared no detail no matter how small. All the while he kept seeing the expression on Steven’s dead face. When at last he had no more to tell he let out a deep breath, sat back in his chair and waited to see if Harrie believed him.