Stone Soldiers 6: Armageddon Z (10 page)

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

ONE DAY BEFORE INFECTION (43rd Attempt)

Kenji kicked at his covers as he suddenly came awake. It was like waking up from a dream where you were falling. His sheets and pillow were soaked in sweat. His alarm began to buzz.

9:00 AM. Time to get up. Again.

Kenji sat up slowly. His enthusiasm in the last life just wasn't there. Try as he might, something always seemed to derail his attempts. He felt like if he had to do this too many more times, he'd go insane.

Gathering up his clothes, Kenji went to the bathroom and showered. The hot water helped him think. The problem now was convincing Colonel Kenslir he was on the up and up. Why a sentient computer would do that when all the other things he'd seen before didn't, puzzled Kenji. Then he remembered that not even Josie Winters or the reconstituted vampire seemed to know about the machine.

It was a big secret. A very big secret.

And why had the computer insisted Kenji get the Colonel to meet him near St. Louis? Today? What was he missing?

Kenji
thought about it all through breakfast and while helping his father take down the decorations for Christmas. He barely noticed that it was almost a normal morning—like his first time in this nightmare.

By lunch time, Kenji had his mind made up. He asked
his parents if he could borrow the car to go into town and do some shopping. After admonishing him not to waste his money on them, they relented.

Kenji was on the road by noon, headed south, through Illinois. When he was hours away from Chicago, he made h
is call.

***

Mark Kenslir rarely took a day off. In the fifty years since he'd been cursed, it had seemed like there was always something to keep him busy. The world was a big place and dark magic seemed to thrive in every nook and cranny.

Today though, he was able to get in one of his rare times of relaxation. A fishing trip, all alone, on a small cabin cruiser he'd rented for the day. Just him, the sun, the sea and Biscayne Bay.

He was just reeling in his line to rebait his hooks, when his phone rang.

"Kenslir," he said, not looking at the screen on the smartphone. If they were calling, it had to be important. At least he'd gotten half a day off.

"Uh, is this Mark Kenslir?"

The Colonel pulled the phone down from his ear and looked at the name on the caller ID. Kenji Nakayama.

"Who is this?" he asked.

"Sir, my name is Kenji Nakayama. You don't know me, but Max told me to call you."

A chill crept up the Colonel's spine. The voice on the other end of the phone sounded far too young to know about the sentien
t computer network housed at Argon Tower. A leftover from the Cold War, designed to monitor communications in Cuba, and now monitoring America in the aftermath of the September Conspiracy of 2001, Max was a very closely-guarded secret.

The Colonel pulled t
he phone down and switched to speaker mode. Then he quickly swiped to a side screen and activated an icon labeled "Maxwell".

"How do you know Max?" Kenslir asked.

"We, uh, met... recently," Kenji said.

The screen on Kenslir's phone went black, then was r
eplaced by a text box.

>>>NO KNOWN AFFILIATION<<< scrolled across the screen. >>>VOICE STRESS ANALSYSIS INDICATES EIGHTY-SIX PRECENT PROBABILITY SUBJECT IS TELLING THE TRUTH.<<<

>>>TANLS<<< Kenslir typed, frowning. He missed the cybernetic control of the TTV. He didn't understand how these kids today could text so quickly with their thumbs. He needed a lot more practice.

"Sir?" Kenji asked, wondering if the line had gone dead.

"I'm still here," Kenslir said. "Where'd you meet, Max?"

"Uh... Miami. Argon Tow
er," Kenji said. "The Tenth Floor."

Kenslir swallowed. It had always been a possibility that someone might get the information. There were still plenty of the original programmers and technicians alive that had built Max's network. One of them could have l
eaked the information or had a telepath scan their memories.

"Sir, I was there with Josie, Jimmy and Laura," Kenji said. "I've been to your office before too."

Aha, now they were getting somewhere. Laura had been dead for almost a month. The caller's information was outdated.

"You know Dr. Olson?"

"Yes. She's a redhead. Tall, thin... not bashful."

Kenslir's phone now switched to an aerial view, showing Kenji's location. He was traveling south, through Illinois.

"Where are you headed, Mr. Nakayama?"

"St. L
ouis. It's where you told me to go. In the future."

"The future?" Kenslir carefully considered what he was hearing. Oracles could see the future with incredible detail. But even an Oracle shouldn't know about Max. Either Nakayama was a psychic, or this was
some kind of elaborate trap.

"Tell me more," Kenslir said. He'd always liked traps—they were challenging.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

It was after dark now, and he was almost to St. Louis. The long drive had been more exhausting than Kenji was prepared for. If he did get arrested again, he'd at least be able to get some rest before ending this vision and trying again. But first, he'd agreed to meet Colonel Kenslir.

He'd been following the directions on his phone to the meeting place Colonel Kenslir had suggeste
d. Initially, Kenji had been a little worried about meeting in the middle of nowhere, but he reminded himself he could now end his visions whenever he wanted. He'd play along as long as it took to get this right.

A long, two lane road off the interstate le
d him deep into farm country. There wasn't a whole lot of activity in the area this time of night, so when Kenji saw a roadblock up ahead, he was more than a little concerned.

"Mr. Nakayama?" a State Trooper asked when Kenji rolled his window down.

The young psychic nodded quietly, bracing for a taser or nightstick or whatever was going to be used against him.

Instead, the Trooper pointed ahead and to the left. "Take that gravel road there. They're waiting for you."

Kenji nodded, confused, but took his foot off his brake pedal and eased his parents' car forward. The headlights showed a small break in the fenceline—a gravel road just as the Trooper had indicated. Without the roadblock, he'd have likely driven right past it.

The going was a lot slower on th
e old road. Several times he heard gravel scrape on the floorboards of his parents' sedan as the small car bottomed out. Eventually, he came to the end of the road—where two black SUVs sat waiting. A single agent in black windbreaker and slacks stood waiting outside the SUVs.

"Mr. Nakayama?" the agent asked as Kenji rolled to a stop again.

"Yes?"

The agent reached in a pocket of his windbreaker. Kenji relaxed when the agent pulled out a small flashlight and offered it to him.

"There's a small barn over that way," the agent said, pointing. "Watch your step. Your contact is running behind, but will be here shortly."

Kenji took the flashlight then switched off the ignition and exited his car. He used the small light to illuminate the ground as he walked throug
h nearly knee-high grass. As his eyes adjusted, he finally made out the shape of a ramshackle barn against the skyline.

He looked the barn over carefully, noting the barn doors were fastened by a padlock. He checked his watch, unsure what else to do.

After several minutes in the cold night air, Kenji heard a flapping noise above him. He looked up, his eyes straining against the night sky. Finally, he was able to make out the source of the sound. A man parachuting down out of the night sky.

The skydiver la
nded lightly, walking to a stop, then quickly turning and reeling in his parachute. He disconnected from the chute, then tucked the bundled fabric under his arm and headed toward Kenji.

"Colonel?" Kenji asked, shining his light at the newcomer.

He breathed a sigh of relief that this time it was indeed Colonel Kenslir, dressed all in black combat fatigues and assault vest.

"Mr. Nakayama?" the large Colonel said, extending his right hand.

Kenji took the hand, noticing the Colonel was wearing a large submachinegun strapped to his right thigh. His oversized goggles concealed his eyes, making it difficult to judge Kenslir's demeanor.

"You believe me?" Kenji asked finally, swallowing nervously. "About the outbreak?"

"We did some checking. Greengear is indeed a sponsor for tomorrow night's game. They're even providing some kind of indoor fireworks display like you described. And they do have a warehouse where you indicated."

"I have to admit something," Kenji said, his pulse quickening. "I wasn't completely hones
t about the nature of the outbreak."

"Oh?"

This was it. He'd left out the part about zombies this time, hoping he could just get Kenslir to meet him face to face. He'd described it only as a highly contagious outbreak that was going to kill millions. Which wasn't entirely untrue.

"It's a zombie plague."

Mark Kenslir watched Kenji through his tactical goggles. From his viewpoint multiple information boxes hung in the air beside the psychic—indicating a live voice stress analysis, his pulse rate, his breathing and even the dilation of his pupils. So far, everything the young man was said he seemed to believe.

"Zombies?"

"I know—it sounds crazy. But the spores being released, they're going to reanimate corpses-"

"Spores?"

"That's what you called them. Some kind of fungal infection. It brings people back from the dead, but not all the way. They aren't themselves anymore."

"And I told you all this—in my office?"

"Yes," Kenji said. He reached into his pocket suddenly. Kenslir didn't budge an inch.

"While you were
eating a bunch of these," Kenji said, pulling out a Snickers candy bar and offering it to the Colonel. His mom always bribed Kenji with candy, so he hoped it might work to break the ice with the Colonel.

Kenslir dropped his parachute, making Kenji jerk a l
ittle. Then he took the candy bar, unwrapped it, and began to chew. "Thanks."

"The outbreak spread across the whole country in about a month," Kenji said. It was unnerving watching Kenslir eating so calmly. "They even made it to Florida. You and the stone
soldiers were fighting them to the very end."

"Did we win?" Kenslir asked, swallowing the last bit of candy bar, then licking his fingers clean.

"No... I don't know. My helicopter crashed and my vision ended. I was being evacuated to some ships."

"And Max
said that I can stop them in St. Louis—if I go in alone?" Kenslir stuffed the candy wrapper in a pocket of his pants.

"Yes," Kenji said, looking around. "We are alone, right?"

"Yep."

They stood there quietly for several seconds.

"So, what now?" Kenji asked.

"Well, I guess we're headed for St. Louis."

***

The drive to St. Louis was more comfortable now as they had switched to one of the unmarked FBI SUVs. Leather heated seats and plenty of legroom. Kenji thought he could get used to the luxury vehicle.

T
he Colonel drove, eating beef jerky and drinking bottles of water, one after another.

"So what's the plan?" Kenji asked as they entered the city.

"You'll wait in the truck, I'll go inside."

"You mean at the warehouse?" Kenji asked, surprised. He thought he
'd be dropped off somewhere.

"Normally, I wouldn't bring a noncombatant on a mission. But if this is just a vision, you can't get hurt, right?"

"Uh, I guess."

"And if anything goes wrong, you'll be able to tell me about it next time around, right?"

Kenji shook his head affirmatively. That did make sense, but he couldn't help but wonder if he'd just heard a bit of skepticism in the Colonel's voice.

Several minutes later, they pulled to a stop on a street overlooking the river. To the south, he could just ma
ke out the gleam of moonlight reflecting from the Gateway Arch.

"Here," Kenslir said, opening a pouch on his tactical vest. He pulled out a small pair of clear glasses, connected by wire to a smart phone-sized black module, and handed it to Kenji.

"What is this?"

"A smaller pair of these," Kenslir said, tapping his tactical goggles. "You'll be able to monitor what I'm doing. For your next life."

Kenji was sure now it was sarcasm. The Colonel didn't fully believe him after all. He slipped the glasses on anyway. They reminded him of safety glasses like one would find in a lab. As soon as they were in place, the lenses filled with images and arrows—a stream of information that told him where he was, the weather conditions, the time of day, even the phase of the moon. It was a bit overwhelming.

"If you see anything, just say so—there's a camera and microphone in the glasses."

Kenji nodded in agreement as the Colonel exited the vehicle. Slightly above his line of vision, a wide, rectangular window appeared, showing the feed from the Colonel's goggles.

Like a video game, he watched as the Colonel sprinted quietly away from the SUV. When he reached the end of a long warehouse, he grabbed at a large pipe running to the roof and rapidly ascended the tall warehouse.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Gr33ng34r warehouse was a fairly large building, thirty feet high and several hundred feet long. The roof was covered in fine gravel with occasional air conditioner units and skylights.

Kenslir had researched the building on his fligh
t in from Florida. It was a shipping center, sending packages around the county. Curiously, Gr33ng34r didn't actually make anything, but rather sold products they claimed were earth-friendly—primarily through their catalogs and website.

The company was les
s than five years old, and had checked out as being legitimate, with a board of directors and an owner that was an environmentalist that resided on the other side of the country. They employed just over a hundred people, broken into shifts.

On this Thanksg
iving weekend, Kenslir expected the building to be mostly empty, but satellite imagery revealed a heat signature suggesting that instead of giving their people the holiday off, Gr33ng34r had all one hundred working inside.

Moving as quietly as he could on
the gravel, Kenslir moved across the roof of the building, finally crouching beside a translucent skylight. From a pouch on his vest, he pulled out a small, screwdriver-like tool that held a bit in the end. Pressing it against the skylight, he used the bit and his strength to bore a small hole—working the tool like a corkscrew. Through the hole, he fed a slim, fiber optic wire, connected to a small handheld unit, that wirelessly fed the image into his tactical goggles.

The warehouse was indeed at full stea
m. Workers were bustling around a long row of tables set up down the wide, center aisle of the building. They were carefully packing aluminum canisters with something. Canisters that were just like the ones the psychic had described.

Kenslir stowed his ge
ar, pressing a small piece of black tape over the hole he'd made in the skylight before moving on. He crossed the roof quickly, crouching by a maintenance hatch. The locked handle twisted easily under his grip, the lock breaking apart. He swung it open slowly, glad it didn't shriek or make much noise—or was alarmed.

A ladder led down into the warehouse and a small maintenance room he'd located while studying the plans for the building. The Colonel quickly descended, closing the hatch behind him.

***

Kenji was looking straight ahead now, leaned back in the comfortable seat of the SUV, watching the Colonel's slow progress like it was a movie. He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone tapped on the glass window of his passenger door.

"Yes?" Kenji asked, r
olling the window down. It was a security guard, with a big flashlight, looking at him suspiciously.

"You lost, buddy?" the guard asked. He was surprisingly old for such a job, Kenji thought. His pale skin was wrinkled and gray hair stuck out from under h
is black ball cap.

"Uh, no," Kenji said. He wasn't sure what to do in this situation.

"Why you parked here?"

Kenji blinked several times in confusion, noticing that the head up display on the clear glasses had turned off, leaving them just clear safety le
nses now.

"I'm waiting for someone," he finally stammered.

"Who?" the guard asked.

"Isn't this a public street?" Kenji asked, looking around. They hadn't passed through any gates or fences on the way here. And they were a block away from the Gr33ng34r bui
lding.

The guard frowned and reached for the microphone clipped to the shoulder of his uniform jacket.

"Control, I have a suspicious vehicle outside," he radioed.

"Suspicious? I'm just waiting for my friend," Kenji said.

"I need you to step out of the car, sir," the guard said, stepping back.

Kenji swallowed nervously. This was not going well.

***

Inside the warehouse, Colonel Kenslir had managed to sneak down to the main floor and watched the bustling employees of Gr33ng34r as they packed their metal canisters. First they loaded something into the tubes—some kind of powder—then carefully packed them with confetti and glitter, glued on some kind of end cap, then loaded them into boxes. The boxes were then loaded into two panel vans waiting at one end of the building. From the number of workers present, the Colonel guessed they were loading hundreds of the tubes. More than enough to cover the roof of the Dome.