Defensive Instinct (Survival Instinct Book 4) (35 page)

What’s going on?
he signed to Misha once they were close enough. He knew sign language was going to cause pain in his shoulder, but he vastly preferred it over speaking with the zombies so close.

Where’s Boyle? Or Karsten?
Misha replied instead, emphasizing his mouth movements around the names.
They inside?

No, I didn’t see either of them in there.
Danny kept glancing over at the stranger who was openly staring at him.
What?
he finally asked the young man.

“You’re Danny,” the stranger stated in a whispered voice.

Danny nodded, resisting the urge to add a
what of it?

“Do you remember me? Mark Green?”

It finally clicked why this man looked so familiar. Mark and Jon had been best friends before the Day, and Danny could recall memories of the two of them sitting on the couch in the living room, or hanging out in the garage with the radio turned up. He must have been the one who showed up to warn them of the mega horde.

Danny clasped his hand in a shake. “Of course I remember you,” he whispered, realizing he must not know sign language. He had to be careful to control his enthusiasm and keep his voice down, although the constant droning moan that filled the air helped. “I’m surprised you’re alive.” Over time, Danny had learned what had happened to everyone in his tightly knit group during the Day, including Mark’s disappearance. “You knew Abby too. She’s living in our other camp, with Claire.”

“Yeah, Jon told me.”

Danny nodded, because of course Jon would tell him that. He then returned to Misha, remembering that more important things were happening despite having a million questions for Mark.

What do you need Boyle or Karsten for?

I’m not going to repeat myself. Help us find them and you can figure it out then.

Danny nodded and pointed toward the wall, figuring they were somewhere near it. If a breach was going to happen, the former military lieutenant and former submarine captain would want to know about it right away, first hand, before it got worse.

As they headed toward the wall, all the tiny hairs across Danny’s body began to stand on end. He found himself moving slower, his limbs not wanting to carry him along their present course. Turning his eyes toward Misha, he saw that he seemed to be reacting the same. Mark appeared more relaxed than either of them, perhaps more accustomed to the sound after following the mega horde for so long, but he had matched his step to the others. All of them tread lightly, not daring to let their shoes make even the slightest scuffle, despite the fact that there was no way they could be heard over the wall amongst the racket the zombies were making.

Danny had been partly right. Karsten was standing near the wall with two others, one a stranger and the one named Tommy who had spoken with Evans, while a few other brave souls were scattered along its length, weapons in hand. Boyle was nowhere to be seen, but it was possible he was at the other end of the wall, around the corner, keeping an eye on the shorter section near the bay.

The female stranger spotted them first and raised a hand in greeting. Mark waved back, and the other group of three came toward them. The girl kept patting the top of a fist into the palm of her other hand as she walked, seemingly following a pattern that made no sense. Danny wondered if it was a nervous tic, or if she was listening to music within her mind to help cope with the unnerving soundtrack with which the container yard was being bombarded. Karsten held a notebook and pencil, the pages covered in lettering from more than one hand. Apparently, not even whispering was allowed this close to the wall.

Misha signed something that Danny hadn’t been able to fully catch out of the side of his vision. Whatever it was, Karsten agreed and pointed in a new direction for all of them. Maybe he was taking them to Boyle.

They moved between the containers of residents until arriving at Karsten’s. He opened the door and gestured for everyone to enter. Once a kerosene lamp was lit, Karsten not having a bottle light, the doors were then sealed behind them, blessedly dampening the horrid noise.

Danny took a quick look around Karsten’s container, never having had an opportunity to do so before. It was very neat and tidy, not filled with clutter like his own. Karsten also had more personal items than anyone else, having moved everything from his captain’s quarters on the German sub before a storm had forced it to sink permanently.

“So you have some sort of plan?” Karsten looked from Misha to Mark, keeping his voice quiet enough to be heard only within the container.

“What do you need the high point for?” Misha asked Mark.

“If I could get high enough to see over the comet horde, I can communicate with the rest of our team,” Mark informed them.

“No, you’ll be spotted,” Karsten immediately negated the plan.

“We’ve done it before,” Tommy was quick to add. “We stay out of sight of the zombies. We keep to a spot where we can see over their heads, but not see them, which means they can’t see us. The others on our team will have followed the comet horde and found a high spot behind them where they’ll be looking out for us.”

“How do you communicate over such a distance?” Danny wondered.

“Mirrors and Morse code,” the girl replied. It was then that Danny realized her hand patting hadn’t been as random as he thought. She had been telling Mark something as they approached. Had Karsten caught it? He would know Morse and would know what she had said.

“What would be the point?” Karsten challenged the outsiders. “What would communicating with your team gain us?”

“If the zombies are facing us, the others can safely observe them. They can find out what’s going on, why they aren’t moving away,” Tommy spoke calmly. “Some information is better than none. It’ll give us something to work with. Depending on what’s going on, the others may even get the zombies to leave using fireworks or something.”

“It’s not hard to get onto the community centre roof,” Misha spoke up. “I believe you can see across the whole yard from up there, except for where the stacks are too tall. The slope of the roof would also provide something to hide behind.”

“Where’s Boyle? Shouldn’t he be involved in this conversation?” Danny asked, not particularly liking that only one of their leaders was present.

“He’s busy investigating potential escape routes,” Karsten told him.

That seemed odd to Danny. Everyone knew the escape routes: the weak would take whatever boats might be at the dock, the rest would cross Bitch Bridge to Animal Island, and if the bridge was out, they would swim. There were no other routes.

“I think we should do it,” Misha spoke again. “Like he said, even a little bit of information is better than none. I want to know why they’re not leaving like they should.”

“I agree,” Danny decided. “I don’t think any of us were at the prison, but remember the stories? Remember what we were told about Roy, and how he figured out a way to breach the walls there?”

“Roy?” both Mark and Tommy said at once, their spines becoming stiff.

Karsten looked at Misha and Danny, clearly deciding whether or not he wanted to say something in front of them.

“Danny probably heard me telling Evans,” Tommy offered as a way of getting him to speak.

“There’s a super smart zombie in the horde outside,” Karsten grudgingly spoke. “Roy kind of smart.”

Danny
had
heard something along those lines being mentioned, but he hadn’t thought of
that
level of intelligence. He had only heard stories, but they were enough to chill his blood. Beside him, Misha seemed to have the same reaction.

“So that’s why you guys believed me so quickly,” Mark sighed. “I had a feeling it wasn’t just because I used to know Jon.”

“Tell me about Roy.” The calmness had left Tommy.

“You seem to know already.” Karsten faced the younger man, always willing to stand up to anyone.

“The intelli-zombie was created by Roy,” Mark told them.

“By bite?” Danny couldn’t keep the fear from squeaking his voice somewhat.

“No. No, thank God,” Mark quickly soothed the swiftly agitated container trio. “Your Roy, was he a scientist? Could you tell?”

“He wore a white lab coat with a name tag, which is why he was called Roy,” Karsten told them.

“Sounds like the same Roy then; we never did learn what happened to him,” Mark said, looking at Tommy, who nodded. The girl was staying quiet during this part of the conversation.

“After the evacuation of Leighton, we ended up in the same place as Roy. He and some others were conducting experiments on the zombies, but we never learned the specifics. He ended up turning our friend Dean into an intelligent zombie, or intelli-zombie as we started saying. When the place became overrun, we fled, not following the rest of the evacuees. We know they took Dean with them, but not what happened to him after that. All we know is that he eventually escaped and came across us, and we’ve been keeping an eye on him ever since. We never learned what happened to Roy; I lost track of him during that second evacuation.” Tommy relayed his information in as quick a manner as he could.

“There were rumours he injected himself with something. If he created this intelli-zombie, as you call it, then he could have injected himself with the same thing. Some of us always wondered if there might be another, a first subject, maybe more, but we always hoped that they were destroyed,” Karsten sighed.

“What happened to Roy? Did you manage to kill him?” the girl wondered, finally speaking up. There was a note of hope in her voice.

“From what I’ve heard, people just fled the prison, leaving him behind. I don’t think anyone knows.” Danny looked to Misha and Karsten who nodded their agreement. “Could he also still be wandering around?”

“Maybe.” Tommy shrugged. “He’d likely have the same mega horde gathered around him though, and I feel my team would have noticed another one if they started in roughly the same place. We’ve never come across a comet horde slime trail that wasn’t caused by Dean’s group; we kept track. Either Roy is dead, or he wandered off into the ocean, which is basically the same thing. We were always hoping that one day Dean would walk into the ocean and get sucked down by the undertow. Once he got dragged out to sea, he might not think to come back, or get stuck in a chasm or on a coral reef until the forces of the sea tore him apart. Unfortunately, he’s never stepped foot in a large body of water. It’s as if he knows.”

“Maybe that’s why he stopped outside,” Danny suggested. “Maybe he knows that going sideways will lead him into water, and he can’t turn around because of the body mass.” He really hoped that was all that was happening.

“We can’t know for sure without some eyes on them,” Tommy said, pushing their idea.

“All right. All right, Misha, get one of them up on the community centre. I want you up there with them, as well,” Karsten finally relented.

“Maybe someone who knows Morse should be up there with them, just in case,” Misha suggested slowly, his eyes sliding over to Mark, Tommy, and the girl, knowing his distrust could be taken offensively.

“Right,” Karsten agreed. “While we get set up, Danny, can you find Jans? He was my radio operator and knows Morse better than anyone.”

“I know him, and sure thing.” Danny was grateful to be given a task, something to focus on.

The outsiders had no complaints with the plan and so it was agreed upon. Karsten opened the container and blew out the lantern while everyone began to disperse.

After the dim interior of the container, Danny found himself blinking repeatedly in the bright, outdoor light, and wanting to cover his ears against the sudden increase in sound. As soon as he managed to orient himself, he headed off in the direction of Jans’ container. Whenever Danny wasn’t out scavenging, he helped unload containers beyond the wall, a job that frequently had him working with people like Jans. He had gotten to know most of them fairly well, conversation being the best way to pass the time while hauling.

Reaching the correct container, Danny found it locked and so he knocked. He was careful not to knock too loudly, not wanting to startle anyone inside. A woman opened one of the doors and peered out at him, blinking in the light the same way he had.

Can I help you?
she signed, a bit clumsy as those who didn’t use it often usually were. She was probably on kitchen staff, or some other duty that kept her within the wall.

I’m looking for Jans
, Danny signed back, wincing at the pain in his shoulder again.

By the wall
, she pointed where she thought he might be.

Danny thanked her and trotted off, not getting far before the jostling of his shoulder and the louder sound of his feet forced him to slow. As he walked as fast as his injured arm could tolerate, he held it with his good arm. At least the pain was keeping him awake and rather alert.

Near the wall’s corner, he spotted Jans. The man had the short and bony stature of a boy who hadn’t yet hit puberty, but with his grey hair, craggy face, and multiple scars from fighting off boarders during the Diana raid, it was impossible to mistake him for a youth.

Getting his attention, Danny rapidly relayed where he was needed, using as few gestures as possible. When Jans started to ask a question, Danny just shook his head and pointed back toward the community centre with his good arm. Karsten could explain everything to him once he was there.