Zombies - Dead and Walking

My extended Christmas vacation is finally over, so I can start writing again. I'm actually surprised at how hard it is to get going after a break. Anyway, here's another Zombies entry. I see about one more for this story. After that, it's on to something new, hopefully. Enjoy.

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I woke the next morning to a steaming plate of scrambled eggs, toast and hash browns with a giant mug of coffee and glass of orange juice to boot. After staring at it in delight for a few moments, I lifted my gaze to the foot of my bed where Lynette stood.

"Good morning," she said wryly. 'You almost missed it."

I glanced at the clock on the far wall. It was almost quarter after eleven. The first half of the night hadn't granted me much sleep with my leg wound throbbing like mad. After a few hours of writhing, the nurses had taken pity on me and dosed me full of morphine again. I had fallen asleep not long after. Who says drugs are bad?

Lynette helped me sit up and waited for me to start eating before she spoke again. "Mel's waiting outside. He has someone he wants you to meet."

I glanced up. "Now?"

She didn't have to answer me, because Mel came marching through the door just then.

"Morning, Jimmy."

"Hi Mel." He had yet to indicate that he cared for a formal title, so I was going to hold out as long as I could.

He took no notice of it. "We have some bad news. We found one of your fellow soldiers last night. In the car wreck. It seems God's Talon doesn't have much of a heart for deserters because they shot him and tied him into the vehicle." Then he paused to give me a meaningful look. "If you hadn't come along, he'd be dead right now. Or worse."

"What? We're not letting him crash his own funeral?" I shoveled some eggs into my mouth, surprised at how hungry I was.

My humour was lost on him. "Hopefully not. But it looks like he may get another chance. They're coming here, Jimmy."

"Here? Who?"

"God's Talon has apparently taken issue with us rescuing one of their men. Seems he knows something we shouldn't."

I sat up a little more, ignoring the twinge of fury in my leg. Dammit, there were more of them. "Is he talking?"

Mel shook his head. "Not at the moment, no. He's scared to death of these guys."

"How long do we have?"

"I'm surprised they're not knocking on the door already."

"Shit."

Mel left soon after that to check the doors again. Taking shelter behind glass doors from a tide of the undead is one thing, but angry mercenaries with big, scary guns is quite another. There was apparently a small team of able bodies working on it at the moment, but I could tell Mel was worried. We were in a library for fuck's sake. We could have at least taken shelter inside the Worker's Compensation building or something, some place that was used to hostiles.

A wave of claustrophobia swept over me. Of all the conditions to be in at the moment, lying in a bed had to be someone's cruel joke.

"You'd better not be thinking about leaving this room," Lynette warned.

I awarded her with my best innocent face. "And do what? Get myself killed?" I concentrated on eating my hash browns for a few minutes. Whoever was in charge of the food had my fondest regards.

The mercenaries arrived, then. I knew they had because an explosion thumped in the distance and the floor shook just a little. I noticed Lynette glance toward the door.

"Don't let me keep you here," I said nicely. She shot me her darkest look.

"I'm on duty," she snapped, then muttered, "Even if it's the shit shift."

"I resent that," I grouched as I slumped back on my pillows. Part of me had to feel sorry for her, though. I wanted to be out there, too. Another explosion sounded off somewhere. Lynette fidgeted. I drank some juice.

I thought back to my first meeting with the mercenaries. It had almost seemed like the squadron we met with was guarding the bridge. The flaming, charred remnants of chasm that had been a bridge... Were they waiting for someone?

"Lynnie," I began.

"Lynette." She was sitting on a plastic chair, chin in hand, staring out the door.

"Lynette..."

"What?"

"Did it look like they were guarding the bridge?" I started on my coffee. It tasted a little burnt, but it was good anyway.

"What from? Zombies? It was on fire, Jimmy."

"That it was. So why were they there?"

She shrugged. "Should I care? They're all dead now."

"And it almost seemed as if they knew we were coming, didn't it? I mean, they left as soon as we got there."

"Sure, it's not like they had much to do there. They probably had other orders to follow."

"But then they died."

She stiffened. "Hey, remember all the blood and bodies all over the ground after they died?"

"Yeah..."

She glared at me now. "Well I don't want to! For the love of God, Jimmy, let it rest! Let all those dead men rest!' Her voice cracked and she returned to a sullen silence.

I decided to shut my mouth and keep my thoughts to myself. How could she not want to talk about it? Women confuse me.

But what if the mercenaries had been there to stop all the people from getting across the river? What if none of this was an accident? If that was the case, it would make sense for them to try and control the virus--or whatever it was. And if somebody else found out about it, they would be smart to try and shoot any of the culprits who made it across the river.

My leg was throbbing. I drank some of the coffee and took a bite of a piece of toast. It sounded deafeningly loud in the quiet, but I persevered.

That could be why they were coming after their man now. If he knew what they were guilty of, they would stop at nothing to silence him. They might even unleash the virus on us.

"Oh hell..." I moaned as all the pieces fell together.

Lynette glanced over, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"They're going to hit us with the virus!"

"What virus? What are you talking about?"

"The fucking zombie virus! The one that turned everyone on this side of the river into a zombie!"

She scowled, obviously irritated that I wouldn't just sit and be quiet like a proper injured person. "Not everyone got turned, Jimmy."

"No, but almost everyone did. And yes, there was destruction further south, but it wasn't extensive like this."

She frowned but didn't say anything. Gunfire started up inside the building as faint shouts and screams wafted in through the open door.

"I need to talk to the other merc!"

"Like hell you do. Jimmy, you are staying here!"

I stared at her, mortified. "And let everyone else die? No! I need a wheelchair!"

"Jimmy, no! It's not safe out there."

"Because it'll be safe in here when the virus hits again. Get me a damn wheelchair!"

Maybe she saw the truth in what I was saying, or maybe she was just tired of arguing with me, but Lynette hurried out and returned with a wheelchair in two minutes flat. When she did, she was all business, wasting no time or breath on useless words like "please." She simply ordered and I obeyed, also aware of how little time there could be, even if the virus was a last resort. There was no telling how long Mel's men would hold out against trained soldiers. More gunfire clattered down the hallway.

The hallways seemed a maze to me, but Lynette seemed to know her way. We arrived in a room similar to mine in moments. The injured mercenary was eating a breakfast similar to mine, though he had no nurse attending him at the moment. He glanced up lazily when we entered.

"Are they going to use the virus on us?" I demanded.

He froze with the fork halfway to his mouth. "The virus?" His speech was lightly accented with something European.

"The thing that turns us all into walking corpses!" I snapped. "It could mean your life."

His eyes widened. "They have one, yes. But I don't know if they would use it on us..."

"They left you for dead, didn't they? They used it on the whole rest of the city!"

"Yes, but if you survived, that means you are immune." He hesitated. "At least, I think..."

"That's not good enough, man!" My voice was getting high pitched. "If there's any chance they'll use it, we have to know!"

He reached under the bed and retrieved his radio then, but hesitated once more. "If they know I told you..."

This guy really was scared, I marveled. They must have some badass bosses. "I don't think it matters to them anymore. They've made up their minds."

And so did he. With a flick of his thumb, the radio chirped to life.

"Is it ready to use?"

A pause.

"Doctor! Is the virus ready?"

Then, a shaky voice came online. "Yes, General. Are you sure...?"

"Of course I'm fucking sure! How soon will it be here?"

"About five minutes, sir."

I glanced at Lynette and saw the same horrified determination I felt.