Zompoc Survivor: Inferno (14 page)

“Hold up.” She slowed the Stryker and stopped it, and I popped the hatch over my head, confident Hall was heading for a window or balcony that faced this way. I could hear the Humvee pull up behind us, and Hernandez and Amy popped their hatches, too. We all scanned the skies, waiting to see what Keyes was going to do.

“There!” Amy cried and pointed. Following her hand, I saw a streak of white against the ruddy sky. It slipped between columns of smoke, now bright, then faded, then bright again. Suddenly it dropped almost straight down, and we saw the sky light up to the west and heard the muffled
whump!
of an explosion.

“Drone!” Kaplan called over the radio. “That son of a bitch has a Predator! We need to get away from here, and in among the taller buildings.”

“Copy that!” I called out as I dropped back down into the vehicle. “Amy, find us a path downtown. We need to find a place to hide an eighteen ton armored vehicle.”

“”On it,” she said as she dropped down beside me. “I know just the place.” Again, she ran her hands over the map. “Take us back the way we came…uh, no, actually, don’t do that. Just follow this street back east until you get to The Paseo.”

“The Paseo?” I said. “I’m not sure we have time for the scenic route.”

“Trust me, I know this will work,” she said back. I nodded, and she gave me that heart- liquefying smile again. For a moment, I wondered if it might have been even more devastating if she’d been my own flesh and blood, but it hardly seemed possible. It was a couple of miles or so to The Paseo, so I sat back in the gunner’s chair and watched the world outside through the screen. Hernandez barreled down the road with little regard for traffic laws or traffic for that matter, and I kept an ear on the radio to see if the Disciples or Keyes had spotted us. However, Hall hadn’t mentioned that we’d stolen one of his Strykers, so Keyes probably didn’t know he was looking for one. To him, we were probably just another one of Hall’s vehicles.

“There,” Amy called out about five minutes later. We were heading down a gentle slope, with a park on our left and a large brick building on our right. “You can cut through the park if you want. The Paseo’s just up ahead.” Hernandez veered left and we were bumping over grass for a moment, then she veered left again, and the ride smoothed out as we hit asphalt again. We came out of the park and into a row of houses, most of them two story designer jobs with landscaped front lawns and two car garages. As we kept heading north, the lawns got smaller and the landscaping gave way to less manicured yards before it reverted to townhouses on the right and undeveloped lots on the left. Then we were crossing over 71 highway, and Amy’s plan made a lot more sense. The road was wide open and unobstructed for the most part as we sped through Kansas City, not even slowing down for the occasional infected that ended up getting squished beneath our tires.

Cars started to show back up as we got closer to US 70, so Hernandez brought the truck onto the broad grass median and kept going, albeit a little slower. We zoomed past the traffic jam at the US 70 on-ramp and bounced back onto the road long enough to cross the two lanes and under the freeway, then across asphalt again and back onto the median. A few blocks later, Amy was telling us to turn left. Our options were pretty limited anyway, since the grass median ended there, and a large stone monument took up the other side of the road from us. The road went uphill from there, and the skyline before us slowly rose into view.

“Mary Mother of God,” Hernandez said softly as we crested the hill. Ahead of us was a cityscape from hell. Flames billowed from the sides of almost every building we could see, sending smoke into the air and coloring the night sky overhead a bloody red. “We’re going into that?” she asked. When we’d crashed, it had still been light out and the smoke had been blowing toward us. Seeing it now, I understood her reluctance.

“I wouldn’t look for me there,” I said. The wind was blowing from the north, sending plumes of smoke across the sky. Heat made the upper levels shimmer, and I was certain they’d wreak havoc on the drone’s thermal vision. All we needed was someplace to hide the Stryker and the Humvee. An overpass loomed ahead of us, and when we emerged from under the concrete bridge it was like we had just passed through the gates ofHell.

“If anyone sees a three headed dog, it answers to the name of Fluffy,” I said. Amy laughed at the terrible mash up of myth and pop culture. On our left, a broad building burned, and I caught the words “Federal Building” on the stone sign in front of it as we passed by. The stone building on the other side of it was belching smoke from its windows as well. Then we were between two buildings that looked like they’d been built by the same architect. The one on the left was in flames, but the one on the right seemed miraculously untouched by the fires around it, creating a sort of eye in the inferno.

“Turn right,” Amy said as we passed between the two buildings. Half way down the block, she pointed to the screen. “There! Turn in there!” Hernandez slowed the truck and pulled into the driveway on the left.

“Wow, good call,
chica,
” Hernandez said as she flipped the Stryker’s lights on to illuminate the inside of another parking garage. She drove up several levels and pulled across three spaces looking out at the one intact building we’d just passed. We were safe, at least for the moment. I pushed the hatch above me open and looked to my right while Kaplan pulled the Humvee up beside us. He opened his door and stepped out, his face looking haggard in the dim light.

“Not a bad bit of rescuing, if I do say so myself,” I said.

“If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll leave saving civilians to the Navy,” Kaplan said. “So, we’re safe for the moment. But with that bridge out, I think we’re going to have to ditch the vehicles. For now, let’s take a look around and make sure there aren’t any infected wandering around in here.” I nodded and dropped back down.

“You need to let us out,” Miss MBA asked as I grabbed the M39. “We’ve been cooped up in this tin can long enough.”

“We need to clear the garage first,” I told her. “But once we make sure no one’s waiting to bite you, sure.”

“Why didn’t you do that before you brought us here?” she demanded. “I thought you were taking us someplace safe.”

“Why don’t you shut the hell up,” the Asian man said. “You’ve done nothing but bitch since we left. As far as I’m concerned, he should have thrown you out the first time you opened your mouth.”

“Kids, play nice,” I said as I walked between the two of them. “I never told you that coming with me was the safe bet. Just be patient for a little longer.” Before she could answer me, I opened the door and stepped out. The woman who’d taken the shotgun and the dark haired man who’d led the raid on the armory were standing beside Kaplan as I came around the side of the vehicle.

“Natives getting restless?” the dark haired man asked. I nodded.

“Yeah. We’re going to need a bigger boat.” The older woman laughed but neither of the two men seemed to get the quote.

“Okay, Ruth, stay with me. Phil, go with Stewart. We’ll clear this level and move up, then block off the entrance.” Kaplan headed to his left, leaving Phil and I to head the other direction. Phil fell in behind me and to my right as I slung the rifle and pulled the SOCOM out. I switched the LAM’s tac light on and kept the gun up to light the way.

“You handle a pistol like you know what to do with it. Were you in the military?” I asked.

“Police,” he said softly. “Five years this December. I was going to take my detective exam next week. What about you?”

“Air Force, six years. Spent about a year in Iraq, got out about four years ago. And the past couple of days have been pretty interesting.”

“Shouldn’t we be trying to stay quiet?” he asked as we paced along through the mostly empty garage.

“We’re not trying to avoid zombies, we’re trying to find them. Call me lazy, but I figure why settle for just looking for them when we have the perfect zombie call?” We reached the end and saw Kaplan and Ruth headed our way. They moved to one side, and Phil and I stayed on the left to keep our lines of fire clear.

“This level’s clear,” Kaplan said to me when we met up in the middle next to the ramp leading up. “I’ll bet the two above us are, too.”

“We’ve always seen them grouped at the bottom of buildings and hills,” I said.

“Not that they won’t go uphill to grab a bite out of you,” Ruth said. “Neurologically, they act like animals. Path of least resistance.”

“So, up?” I said. Kaplan nodded. We turned to head up the ramp when movement caught my eye, and I brought the gun up. The light fell on a soft drink logo and a bright spot of light. I lowered the gun and the light across from me came down as well. I gave a silent laugh and shook my head. I’d nearly blown away my own reflection on an innocent pair of vending machines.

The next two levels were equally empty, with only a few dusty cars and another set of vending machines on each of the lower levels. The topmost level was barren, and we didn’t stay up any longer than it took to turn a full circle and trot back down the ramp. With that taken care of, it was time to secure the level. A few cars pushed across the ramp made a fairly effective blockade, and with a dozen hands, some more willing than others, it was fairly quick work.

“What are we going to do about food?” Miss MBA said in a tone that seemed to say that she wanted to know what someone
else
was going to do about it. Most of what we’d raided from the grocery store needed to be prepared over a heat source, and all we had was the makings of two hobo stoves.

“What’s your name, ma’am?” I asked.

“Beth Simmons.” She put her hands on her hips and gave me a determined look. I pulled the prybar from my belt and tossed it to her.

“There are vending machines on this level and the two above us. It isn’t much, but it’ll get you through the next hour or so while we get some food ready.” Hernandez handed her crowbar to Phil and the rest of the refugees headed off for the vending machines. We heard the sound of heavy impacts, then the crack of plastic shattering and the chaotic cries of hungry people descending on their helpless prey. The silence bothered me, and I looked around as I realized I was waiting for Amy to make a comment. I saw her standing in front of the Stryker, her eyes on the two buildings across the street. Making sure I made enough noise to be heard, I walked over to stand a few feet away from her. For a few moments, she didn’t say a thing, and I didn’t say a word.

“Daddy used to bring me with him during the summer when he had cases up here,” she finally said. “We’d drive up The Paseo, eat lunch at the sandwich shop downstairs, and I’d watch him when he was in court. Then he’d take me shopping or to the movies, and we’d have dinner at a barbecue place.” I stayed where I was, not sure if I should have been offering her a shoulder, or if just talking this out was enough. She sniffled and I started to move toward her when she started talking again. “He never complained about Mom while we were up here. The first couple of years after they got divorced, I used to imagine we’d come home and Mom would be waiting. Now, I keep looking at the courthouse doors, hoping he’ll come out. Why the hell did he go? Why him?” I turned to face her with my eyes stinging, knowing full well why he’d done it.
You’re her best chance to survive.
His words rang in my ears.

“I was going to do the same thing,” I told her, my voice cracking.

“Why the hell didn’t you?” she snapped at me.

“Because he wouldn’t let me!” I yelled at her. “I was your best chance at surviving, and he wouldn’t let me. If I could have taken his place, I would have.” I lowered my head and bit my tongue, afraid I’d say something that I could never take back.

“I didn’t ask for that,” she said and turned away. Reflexively, I grabbed her and turned her to face me.

“It was the
only
choice he could make, Amy,” I said, suddenly certain of what I needed to tell her. “Of all the people on that chopper, he knew he was the only person who could make that sacrifice without endangering you. It was him or you, and there was no way he was going to let it be you.” Her lower lip trembled and I saw her eyes watering up again.

“I get it,” she said as tears started coursing down her face. “It’s my fault he’s gone.”

“No, Amy, it isn’t. It’s not your fault, or his, or anyone’s. It’s just what happened. He wouldn’t want you to blame yourself. He made that choice because you were the most important person in the world to him. You were a gift to him, Amy, and saving your life was his gift to you. No strings, no conditions. He died happy knowing that his little girl was going to make it.”

“You don’t
know
that,” she hissed. I grabbed both shoulders and looked her in the eye.

“I do know it,” I whispered to her. “I feel the same way.” She pulled back with a sharp breath, then bit her lip and pulled herself free of my grasp. This time I let her go. Maya never seemed to push things more than twice, and I wasn’t about to ignore that. I turned and walked back to where Kaplan and Hernandez were standing. The group of refugees was standing in front of them, and Miss MBA was pointing at something, a bag of chips in one hand and a soda in the hand she was pointing with. On the floor between them was a pile of snacks and neatly stacked cans of soda.

“Why not use the cars?” she asked. “I mean, a couple of us could sleep in the front seats with a third in the back, and there was a mini-van over there that could handle at least four people. The big armored car thing looked like it could sleep a couple of people, too. The van and two or three cars would probably do the trick.” The two Marines exchanged a look before Kaplan nodded.