His first bullet went wide, embedding itself in the barn door behind the tableau of zombie, Scott, and Emily.
She saw him first and her eyes widened in fear. Scott reacted sluggishly, but still managed to bring his handgun around to take a wild shot at Sam, assuming he was the real source of threat. But he wasn’t.
“Behind you!” Sam shouted. “Get down!”
Firing another of the frangible rounds, Sam nailed the zombie in the chest this time, but there was that thirty second window during which the toxin did its thing, and the creature was too close. Much too close.
One bloodstained, clawed hand reached out and slashed Scott’s neck and back. Blood spurted as Scott finally realized the true danger came from behind. Scott shot wildly, most of the clip in his handgun going into the façade of the ranch house or up into the air. A lucky shot clipped Zhao, knocking him down, but Sam couldn’t see much more than the fact that he was unconscious. He might even be dead.
Sam didn’t really care. He wanted any possible threat to Emily eliminated and that zombie was much too close to her. Scott went down under its claws and his gun went flying. Emily dodged and wove away but she didn’t get clear.
She came up, Scott’s gun in her hand, aimed at the balcony. Sam quickly realized, she was keeping Jennings and Krychek at bay.
In his haste to get to her, he hadn’t cared about them. If they shot him with a regular bullet, he’d heal. Even Emily had a better chance with conventional firearms injury than with the zombie.
Sam slowed, keeping in the shadow of the house, using it for cover.
“Jennings!” he shouted to be heard above Scott’s death screams as the zombie savaged him.
The zombie looked at Sam, but didn’t stop gnawing on Scott, pinning his arms and legs in a savage display.
“Who are you?” Jennings shouted back.
“Someone you don’t want to know. Thing is, I can let you walk away from this, as long as you don’t harm the girl.” He had to shout to be heard on the balcony above the noise of Scott’s screams, which were beginning to die down as life left him.
“You’re the lover,” Jennings said as if piecing the information together. “Convenient.”
“Em,” Sam used a low, urgent whisper that only she could hear. “Get behind the car, then work your way into the barn. Close the door and bar it.”
She shook her head slightly. Just once.
Dammit.
“Sweetheart, that thing can’t hurt me. That’s why they sent me. But it’ll kill you and break my heart. Promise me you’ll get clear.”
Her eyes widened, just a bit, but she nodded almost imperceptibly as she held Scott’s sparsely loaded gun trained on the balcony. She began to slowly edge away. Thank God.
That’s when he saw the slight bulge in her right pant leg, down by her ankle. Good Lord, she had the frangible rounds on her. They might get out of this yet.
“You got my gun with you?” he asked urgently. Again she gave a slight nod. Damn, she was cool under pressure though he knew she had to be quaking in her shoes. He sure as hell was. “When you get to the barn, take it out and use it. I doubt Scott left much ammo in his pistol.”
Knowing she at least had that small protection, he refocused his attention to keeping Jennings at bay. He could easily shoot her, just for fun. Sam was banking on the idea that Jennings wanted to see her eaten by his creation first. An added bonus to his demonstration.
“Do I have your word? Let the girl go and I’ll get you out of this,” he shouted up to the balcony.
“Out of what? I see only two people standing in my way and my little friend down there will take care of you both soon enough.”
Oh yeah. It was official. Sam didn’t like this guy at all.
“What are you going to do when half the town is eating the other half and coming after you too? How will you get your buyers to safety and complete the transaction?”
“That one down there is the last. When he’s done with you two, I’ll dart all three of you. End of problem.”
“Then you didn’t take a good look at the amount of blood on him,” Sam yelled. “He’s been out in the woods, making friends. I wonder what direction they’ll go in and how long it’ll take for them to spread the contagion enough to make a small army?”
Jennings seemed to hesitate. “I have plenty of darts.”
“Yeah, and they don’t work too good, do they?” Sam countered as the zombie finally finished with Scott and turned his attention to Sam, the source of all the noise. It was as good a time as any to show Jennings something he might need if he planned to sell this tech. He took aim and fired one round into the creature as it came toward him.
“Start counting,” he yelled up to Jennings even as he started a silent countdown himself. He moved in the shadow of the building, leading the zombie around, waiting for it to disintegrate.
And then on the count of thirty, it slid into oblivion. A pile of goo on the flagstones leading up to the house.
Silence from above as Sam watched Emily edge closer to the big barn doors. She’d have to close those. Otherwise, it was an open invitation to every zombie in town to join her in there. They liked enclosed, dark places. Only the light at the front of the barn was on right now. The interior was still dark.
“You like my ammo?” Sam taunted, keeping Jennings’ attention on him while Emily made her slow getaway. She was moving at a good pace, making no sudden movements. With any luck, she’d already be behind cover when Jennings realized what she was doing.
“Who are you? CIA?”
“Now, now, Dr. Jennings. You started this escapade with the military, what makes you think they’d just hand it over to the feds? Is Bin Zhao dead? My employers won’t be happy to hear that.”
“You’re saying you’re military? A Chinese agent?”
Sam liked how easily Jennings could be led. For a brilliant man in certain areas, he was proving stupid in most others. Sam could use that to his advantage.
“How is he? Don’t lie to me now,” Sam cajoled.
“Dead. Southerland got lucky with a headshot.”
Sam weighed whether or not he could believe that along with what he’d seen out of the corner of his eye as he’d been running. It made sense. Zhao was probably dead. If Jennings really thought he was some kind of foreign agent, he had incentive to keep the man alive. On the other hand, if he lied and Zhao was dead, lying about it wouldn’t help him.
“That’s unfortunate. How about you, Mr. Krychek? You okay?”
“Who are you?” Krychek shouted back in lightly accented English.
“As I said,” Sam kept stalling while Emily edged away from the line of fire. “I can get you out of this safely. I’ve got the ammo you’ll want if you ever decide to use this technology. Jennings’ darts suck from what I’ve seen. They take too long to work and you need far too many of them. There’s also the problem of range and equipment. My ammo can be shot from regular firearms and achieve similar range to regular ammo.”
“So now you’re an arms dealer?” Jennings snapped angrily. He was losing his cool. He didn’t like not being the smartest one in the room and the ammo thing clearly annoyed him.
Sam watched Emily clear the barn door. She was behind the wall, safe from darts. Maybe not higher caliber bullets, but the darts were the main thing he was worried about right now. That and zombies. So Emily was safe enough for now.
“I can get you out of this. For a price.” Sam stalled for time, taking his phone off his belt and hitting speed dial.
He had to keep Jennings talking, to buy time for the team to arrive. Depending on how many people that zombie had killed before returning here, Sam would need their help to clean up this mess.
“What do you want?” Krychek asked. It sounded like he was getting impatient with letting Jennings run the show. “How much for the ammunition you’re using?”
Sam held the phone to his ear. Sykes answered.
“Sir, Emily’s inside the barn, taking cover. Scott Southerland is dead. Bin Zhao is dead. Jennings and Krychek think I’m a renegade out to sell them the T2 toxin. I’m parlaying with them now to stall for time.”
“Ten million,” Sam shouted upward in response to Krychek’s question. He continued to haggle with him in between reporting back to Sykes.
“I took out all but one of the creatures. I finally got him a few minutes ago, but there’s evidence he killed while he was out of my range. The woods probably contain one or more zombies rising from the dead right about now. Tell the team to be cautious when they get here.”
“They’re twenty minutes out but we have one other alternative if you and Ms. Parkington can get clear.” Sykes spoke as rapidly as Sam did, in between haggling with the foreign buyer.
“Sir?”
“How many unfriendlies on site?” Sykes asked.
“Jennings killed all his men for his demonstration,” Sam replied. “I’m convinced the only people left on site are him and Krychek.”
“How fast can you clear the area?”
Scott Southerland’s Porsche stood between Sam and the barn. From his new vantage point, he could see the keys dangling in the ignition. They could be gone at a hundred and twenty miles per hour if they could just get into the Porsche and drive away before it got shot up.
“Southerland’s sports car is here. A red Porsche,” he told Sykes, trying to figure a way to get them both in it and get out of there.
“Work it, Sam. Try to get in that car. I’ve got Parkington—the Air Force Parkington—in the air and armed to the teeth. He’s got smart bombs that can take out the entire hilltop without anyone knowing he was even in the area. Or so he and his commander assure me. I’ve got clearance from the President. All we need is a clear shot. You’ve already given me the coordinates from the GPS in your phone.”
“Stand by.” Sam firmed his resolve and knew what he had to do.
“You want this ammo, right?” Sam yelled up to the men on the balcony. “I’ve got the formula for the toxin as well. Kill me and you’ll spend months reverse engineering. That is, if anything survives the blast.”
“What blast?” Jennings shouted.
Sam stepped into the light, one hand up, clutching his phone. “This is a trigger device. Dead man switch.” Sam didn’t think either of the men could tell what he was holding from that distance in the uncertain shadows cast by the floodlights. “I fall, I blow up. Considering the size and shape of the charge, you’ll probably go with me.”
Krychek began to applaud. “Well played, my friend,” he said, walking toward the balcony railing. He actually wore a smile on his face. This cold bastard was in his element now, it was clear. Haggling over life and death with desperate men.
“I’m going in there—” he pointed over his shoulder toward the barn “—for a few minutes to let you talk this over. Give me a shout when you’re ready to deal. You can call me Sam.”
Krychek was going to speak, but Jennings’ arm across his chest silenced him. Jennings wore a shit eating grin that made Sam nervous. He knew—or thought he knew—something Sam didn’t. Shit. The die was cast now, he had to play it through.
Sam headed for the barn, never taking his eyes off the men on the balcony.
When he cleared the door, he ducked to the side and spun around, looking for Emily. She was safe. Standing a few feet away, near what looked like a row of barred cells that contained stainless steel tables and a variety of high tech medical equipment. Sam had seen something like this before.
“Emily,” he breathed her name as she rushed into his arms. He hugged her for a quick, timeless moment before setting her away from him. “When I give the signal, I want you to jump in the car. We need to clear out of here as fast as possible so your brother can do his stuff.”
“My brother?” Understanding dawned in her eyes even as she asked the question. She knew what her brother’s fighterbomber could do. She understood the concept of air support better than most other civilians.
“You’re using the frangibles. Good girl.” He nodded to the gun she’d taken out of her ankle holster.
“Scott’s gun only has three rounds left,” she said quickly. He’d seen the other weapon tucked into her waistband at her back.
They were as ready as they’d ever be. It was time to make a move.
“Commander?” Sam reconnected with Sykes over the phone. “Did you hear all that?”
“I did,” Sykes confirmed. “Parkington’s on station, awaiting the order. As soon as you’re clear, I’ll give him the go.”
“Roger that, sir. Stand by.” Sam clipped the phone to his shirt so he had both hands free.
“I’m going out first,” he told Emily. “I’ll distract them while you climb into the Porsche. If anything happens, I want you to get out of here as fast as possible. Don’t wait for me.”
“But—”
He cut her off. “No arguments, sweetheart. Trust me.” He paused a moment to drop a hard, all too fast kiss on her lips. It wasn’t enough—a lifetime in her arms would never be enough—but it would have to do for now. “Please do as I ask, Em.”