The Fall: Victim Zero (24 page)

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Authors: Joshua Guess

BOOK: The Fall: Victim Zero
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“Sorry,” Kell said sheepishly.

Pabiayn winked. “Though to be fair, I
was
born on the farm. That is why I joined the military. I had good mind for numbers, for design. Funny, though; I start learning English at ten years old, been living here for more than twenty years, but I still sound like bad stereotype. Good mind for numbers, but very bad for language.”


I think you do okay. I mean, you do kind of sound like a cartoon character, but that's no big deal.”

Pabiyan scowled again, but this time Kell saw the laughter in his eyes.

“So you know, boy, if you ask me to quote 'Rocky and Bullwinkle' I will make you change your own dressings.”

They laughed. “I'll remember that, sir.”

“Good,” Pabiyan said, raising a mock fist. “Else I might thump you. You learn fast after all. I do too, you know. That is why I speak such simple English. My thoughts are in Russian. My mouth cannot keep up with it. Really, is a curse being so brilliant.”

Kell hauled himself to his feet. “Trust me, man, I know the feeling. Now,” he said, dusting his hands off and pulling the lone, hidden key from his back pocket. “Let's see where this mysterious little guy goes.”

They spent three hours cataloging every item of use in the warehouse. Along with the pallets of food they found several large crates of toilet paper, a sight that made Pabiyan almost break down in tears, two small boxes of powdered detergent, a defunct freezer tucked away under the offices from which a smell emanated that was so vile Kell sealed the edges of the door with duct tape.

They also found the duct tape, three huge boxes of the stuff. There were smaller amounts of odds and ends, ropes, pulleys, tools, camping equipment, and the like. Kell tried the hidden key on every lock he came across, but there weren't many of them and by the time the cataloging was done he had exhausted the options.

They had dinner at a small table next to a vending machine in what must have been a break area. It was in the back of the building on the bottom floor, beneath the offices.


I was sure this key went to something here,” Kell said.

Pabiyan spooned some canned pasta into his mouth, talking around the food. “Was thinking about it. Why would man bring his weapons here, his camping gear?”

Kell shrugged. “Maybe this is just where he kept his things.”


Da,” Pabiyan said with a smile. “Exactly.
This is where he kept his things
. If this key goes to something at his home or somewhere else, why hide? Only makes sense it fits something here.”

The old Russian's eyes narrowed. “Stay here,” he said, and hurried out the door. A minute later he returned to a confused Kell, who cocked his head.

“What was that all about?” Kell asked.

A little smug, Pabiyan grinned. “Wanted to see if there was crawlspace entrance. Foundation is solid all the way around.”

“Ah. So there's access somewhere in here. But I didn't see a door or hatch or anything. And most of the floor is open enough we couldn't have missed something like that.”

Pabiyan raised a finger. “Except one place,” he said, lowering his finger to point at the table.

Kell looked down and noticed the carpet beneath them, an area rug worn by years of feet drumming. “I'll be damned,” he said. “Pabiyan, you're a genius.”


I know, boy. I know. Try to keep up, okay?”

Together they pulled the rug out of the way, taking the table with it, to reveal a large slab of a door set in the smooth concrete floor. The door itself was steel with a concrete inlay, a heavy steel ring set in it. Kell grabbed the ring and flipped it out of its recess, setting his feet to lift the massive door.

Which rose effortlessly when he began to pull, causing him to overbalance and fall back.


Son of a bitch,” Kell said. Pabiyan helped him up.

The door was where Kell left it, hovering a few inches from the floor at one end. There were pistons holding it in place. They pivoted the thing all the way open until the low ramp it made was nearly vertical, the entire slab held up by the pistons.

A staircase led down, lit by LED strips.


That's weird,” Kell said. “Must be a battery or something.” Pabiyan grunted and followed Kell down the short flight of stairs.

The hallway before them was narrow. The cinder block walls didn't match up exactly with the floor. “Must have added all this in,” Kell noted.

The hall ended in a heavy steel door without a handle. Instead, a thick steel loop connected to the wall held it shut, a padlock threaded through them. The key fit, the lock opening with a sharp click. Hand on the door, Kell turned to Pabiyan. “You ready?”


Da.”

Kell opened the door, and let out a gasp.

“What is it?” Pabiyan asked. Kell went through, holding the door open.


Good god.”

The room before them was a bunker. There were lights burning low and steady in the ceiling, revealing crates of food, water tanks, a camp toilet, a cot, and an entire wall full of weapons and ammunition.

The room wrapped around the narrow hallway. There was a small mechanical room that had served the building above, but the rest of the space was dedicated to a truly neurotic amount of preparation. While Pabiyan examined the cache of weapons, Kell began writing down the rest of the bunker's contents.

An hour later, Pabiyan asked Kell's thoughts.

“At a guess,” Kell began, “I'd say one person could survive down here for two years, longer if they went hungry a lot. The water tanks seem to be hooked up to the roof, so they collect rain. There's a five hundred gallon tank for drinking water hooked up to a pump, and a fifty gallon for washing, showering, and the like. One whole corner is just propane tanks, the big fat upright kind. I don't know how fast they burn, but there's a heater and stove over there, all vented.


There is enough dry food, canned goods, and staple foods here to last at least two years, and enough weapons to arm twenty people. Thousands of rounds of ammunition, melee weapons...whoever owned this place was ready for anything.”

Pabiyan studied Kell closely. “Da, but what do you
think
about it, not what do you observe.”

It had been a long while since anyone other than Laura and Kate asked him to use his brain. “I think it's a lot preparation wasted. Whoever this guy—or woman, I guess—was, they obviously didn't get to use any of it.”

He looked at the room, Spartan and sterile. “I think this person was sad.”

Pabiyan's eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I do. Some people are okay with being alone, I guess, but this guy didn't even accept the possibility that someone else might join him. There's one bed, and that's a single. There aren't any pictures of family or friends, no decorations. I think this place was a hobby he used to fill up an empty spot. Which means on some level, he knew there was something missing. Just my penny analysis, anyway.”


Da,” Pabiyan said with a nod. “I agree. Even sadder that he did not get to use it.”


Yeah. Yeah, it is. All that time and effort, and it did him no good at all.”

Chapter Sixteen

Kell spent an uneventful six days living in the bunker alone while his mentor returned home to bring more runners. The find was too good to leave to chance, and during that time he took notes, planning out the items he would need to find to begin working on the solution to the plague. He also read one of the paperbacks lying around the main office.


More
James Patterson,” he had muttered to himself.

When the fleet of runners finally did show up, he saw them coming from the roof of the warehouse. Though Pabiyan had warned him to play it safe, Kell grew bored with nothing to do but read and write, so he explored the small town, dispatching zombies and hoping to find another cache of goods. The search hadn't yielded results, but that was fine with him. It kept him busy.

It took most of a day to load everything from the warehouse, but finally he was on his way home. The drive back took half a day since the roads were totally cleared by the fleet of runners and little enough time had passed that the undead were unable to congregate in large numbers. Kell sat in the cab of Pabiyan's truck, watching the miles roll by while a strange anxiety built up. He couldn't put his finger on it at first, but after a while he realized it was anticipation; he was going home, he would see Laura and Kate.


Why are you smiling?” Pabiyan asked.


Just thinking happy thoughts,” Kell said.

Ten days gone, and when the gates came into view, the first reaction Kell had was involuntary.

“Goddamn, it's good to be home.”


Da, my boy. That it is.”


Oh, ladies,” Kell said in a low singsong voice. “I've got something for you.”

Laura and Kate came out of the bus at a trot. Laura was smiling, and threw her arms around him, and in the moment he ignored the urge to treat her like a china doll, picking her up and spinning her in a circle. She squealed with a small child's laughter, and as he set her back on her feet she gave him a chaste peck on the cheek.

“Missed you, big fella.”

He turned to Kate, who looked unusually serious. More so than he had seen her since moving in. She approached him slowly, taking in his tall form. Kell tried a weak smile, and saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

Then her open hand shot out, catching him in the gut. By reflex he bent almost double, his abdomen screaming that he'd been shot, and Kate threw her arms around his neck. He recoiled but she held tight, hugging him tightly and pressing her head against his.


I was so worried about you, you asshole,” she whispered.


Yeah, I can tell, what with the hitting me and all.”

She pulled away, smiling. “You're a foot and a half taller than me. I had to get you closer to the ground to give you a hug.”

In disbelief, Kell said, “You could have just asked.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah, but then you wouldn't have gotten the point, which was to impress on you how fucking worried I was.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. Duly noted, I won't volunteer to stay out alone again.”

Kate nodded. “Damn right you won't.”

“So,” Laura said, grabbing them by the arms and pulling them inside. “What did you bring us?”


Why, I'm shocked and appalled,” Kell said in mock outrage. “Surely
you
of all people should know it's against the rules to keep anything of value for ourselves.”

Laura's crooked smile and flat stare were priceless. “Don't give me that shit. No one goes out there and risks their ass and doesn't bring some good stuff back for themselves.”

Kell slipped his pack off, letting thump heavily onto the giant wooden wire spool they used as a table. “Guilty as charged. I don't know what it says about me that you never questioned my immoral behavior.”

From the bag he pulled two items from the bunker, extendable police batons. Kate took one, Laura the other. “I've got one for myself, too. I remember Kate saying she wanted one of these, and whoever owned the place, be believed in being prepared. Had a whole box full of them.”

Laura hefted her baton appreciatively, but Kate stepped back from the table into the small common area. She rolled the weapon in her hand, then flicked it out expertly. Kate made several complicated movements that looked like something from a sword fight. The tiny woman's wrists flexed and twisted with the baton, the weapon itself a blur of motion that cut the air audibly. Kate looked utterly relaxed as she did it, as if maneuvering the baton in such a small space were the easiest thing in the world.


It'll do,” Kate said, kneeling and knocking the tip of the baton against floor to make it retract. “Thank you.”

Eyes wide, Kell nodded. “No problem. I also got you ladies this,” he said, pulling a small grocery bag out. “It's not much, and I hope you're not embarrassed, but...”

Laura laughed. “Tampons. Sweet Jesus, man, I will bear your children.”


Oh, nice,” Kate added. “There's booze, too?”

Kell handed her the only other item in the grocery bag, which was an economy-sized bottle of Ancient Ancient Age. “It's ten years old, which is supposed to be good from what I understand.”

“Who cares if it's good,” Laura said. “Pour some shots. You're home now. Let's have a little party.”

The next morning Kell found himself hung over and getting a lesson in combat. To no one's surprise, the two did not go together well at all.

Kell hit the mat for the third time in two minutes, the wind knocked out of him. As he struggled to breathe, climbing to his knees, rational Kell spoke up in the back of his mind.

At least you didn't throw up this time.

That was something, he supposed.


You're untrained, but you have discipline. You learn fast. So until I say otherwise, you're working with me,” Kate said as she stood over him. “Laura and I agree. You need to learn some principles of self-defense before you go back out there.”

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