City of the Dead (37 page)

They reached the bottom and Pigpen glanced around them, seemingly unsure of which direction to go. The tunnel ran north and south, and he stared into the darkness in both directions.

"Which way?" Don gasped, breathing hard.

"I'm not sure," Pigpen admitted. "This way, I think." He pointed with the flashlight beam.

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"You think?"

"Been a while." He looked down at the cat. "What do you think, God?"

Without hesitation, the cat headed north. They stumbled along behind it.

"I don't believe this shit," Frankie muttered.

"What?" Don asked.

"We're following a fucking cat named God, and trusting it to lead us to safety."

Don chuckled. "Would you prefer a burning bush?"

They continued onward, their wet shoes rubbing against their feet. They climbed down another shaft, and exited into a tubular passage. Gas mains and fiber optic lines ran along the top.

"We're close." Pigpen sighed, sounding relieved.

Don stopped and knelt to tie his shoe. Danny, Jim, and Frankie passed him.

"You okay?" Jim asked.

"Yeah," Don said. "Just don't want to trip down here in the dark. Knowing my luck, I'd break my neck or something."

Danny squeezed his father's hand.

"How about you, squirt?"

"I'm scared," Danny whispered. His voice was weary. "It's quiet down here."

"Maybe that means we've lost them."

"We'll be safe now?" Danny stared up into his father's face.

"I won't let anything hurt you, Danny. I promise."

"Anybody else smell something?" Frankie asked.

Pigpen's nose wrinkled. "You mean besides the sewers?"

She shrugged. "Good point. Forget it."

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Jim rubbed his hands together for warmth. "Boy, what I wouldn't give for a pair of gloves right now."

Frankie shivered in the darkness. "I hope there's something to wear inside this shelter. I'm freezing my ass off."

Pigpen shrugged. "I don't know. There's food. Freeze-dried stuff. And cases of bottled water. I'm not sure if there's clothing, but it is warm inside."

The flashlight beam flickered. Pigpen smacked it against his palm.

"Batteries are starting to die. I think I saw some of those in the shelter too. Hopefully they're still good."

"So what's this thing like?" Frankie asked, her teeth chattering.

"Kind of like a big boiler," Pigpen told her. "It's made out of steel, and the door is a hatch, like on a ship or a submarine. It's divided into two big rooms. The government stocked it up and then forgot about it. Your tax dollars at work."

"Lucky for us," Jim said.

"You can lock the door from the inside," Pigpen continued. "So that nobody else can get in. We used to do that, to keep the other homeless out. It's warm and dry. We'll be okay there. Hell, you could set off a bomb right next to it and that steel wouldn't buckle. It's stronger than anything Ramsey ever built."

Frankie's brow creased in thought. "Is there more than one exit? I'd hate to get trapped inside."

"There's a door on each side," Pigpen said. "We can lock both of them from the inside."

Jim thought again of how things had started. Then, he'd been alone, and left the safety of the bunker to find his son. Now, Danny would be with him, along with Frankie, Don, Pigpen, and God.

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"God is with us," he whispered, quietly so that the others didn't hear him. He thought that Martin would have found it funny.

"Not much farther now," Pigpen reported. "I bet your feet are tired."

Frankie, Jim, and Danny all groaned in agreement. Don didn't reply.

"You okay, Don?" Jim asked. "You're awfully quiet back there."

"I'm fine," the zombie answered, and leaped onto his back.

Jim and Don tumbled to the floor. Don clawed at his face, his fingers seeking to rip open Jim's cheeks. Jim rolled, crushing Don beneath him. He sat up and punched the zombie in the face.

Danny and Pigpen screamed, and God hissed. Frankie grabbed Don's hair in her fist and yanked his head back.

His throat had been cut. Something had slipped up behind Don and slashed it in the darkness.

How long was he dead? Frankie wondered. How long has he been following us?

Pigpen shined the flashlight beam back the way they had come.

Zombies filled the tunnel.

He turned and ran. God raced along behind him.

"Run!" Frankie shrieked.

Jim jumped to his feet, kicked Don in the jaw, and grabbed Danny's hand, dragging the terrified boy along with him.

"Mr. De Santos," Danny screamed. "Daddy, Mr. De Santos is a monster-person!"

Jim swept his son into his arms and rocketed down the tunnel. Frankie pounded along behind him.

Enraged, the zombies pursued them. One of them

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worked the bolt on its rifle, aimed, and fired. Jim cried out, and sprawled across the tunnel floor. Danny fell with him.

Pigpen, Frankie, and God rounded a corner and skidded to a halt. The tunnel ended at the fallout shelter, the exterior steel wall of which blocked their way. Pigpen flung himself at the hatch and grasped the wheel-like door handle. He grunted, straining to turn it. Frankie latched on and helped him. Slowly, the wheel began to turn, squeaking in protest.

There was an explosion behind them, and a bullet ricocheted off the shelter's outer wall.

"Danny," Don called, "want to come back to Bloomington with me? We can play with Rocky."

"Leave us alone," Danny shrieked. "You're not Mr. De Santos! You're not!"

"Come on, Danny. I'll take you back to your home. Don't you want to see your mommy? We'll find your comic books."

Tears coursed down Danny's cheeks. "Daddy, make him go away!"

The zombie tittered, "You can join us, Danny. You can be just like your mother and your stepfather and Mrs. De Santos. It only takes a second ..."

Jim clenched his leg, trying to stop the flow of blood. It ran between his fingers, staining them red.

"Danny," he grunted, "Listen to me. Go with Frankie."

"What about you, Daddy?"

Don rounded the corner and Jim leapt to his feet, yelling in pain and rage. Blood streamed from the wound in his leg. He gripped the side of Don's head, and slammed it against the wall. Blood and teeth exploded from the zombie's mouth. The gun slipped from the

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creature's fingers. Jim smashed its head against the wall again. Screaming, he released the zombie and dug his fingers into the neck wound, pulling the flesh apart. The gash widened, and he thrust his hands inside the hole.

"Leave my son alone, you bastard!"

Pigpen flung the hatch open and God darted inside. More zombies appeared. Jim and Don struggled between them and the others.

Frankie grabbed Danny's arm. "Come on, Danny! Get inside!"

"Daddy!"

"Danny," Frankie shouted. "Get inside the shelter! Now!"

"I'm not leaving you!"

One of the zombies raised its rifle, peered through the scope, and squeezed the trigger. Pigpen cried out, and slumped against the wall, holding a hand to his chest. He stumbled through the open doorway, leaving a bright trail of blood behind him.

"Danny," Frankie urged, "come on!"

"Daddy!" the boy screamed again, turning back to his father.

Don's head lolled to the side, dangling over his shoulder. Jim had ripped it halfway off. He flung the corpse aside, pointed the flamethrower at the zombies, and backed away. Another bullet slammed into his leg. Jim bit his lip to keep from screaming. His head swam.

"Don't shoot him again," one of the zombies warned. "Hit those tanks and we all go up."

"So? What does it matter? We can get new bodies. This one is falling apart anyway."

"Lord Ob said to wait. He wants to deal with these humans himself."

"Where is he then?"

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"Here," said a new voice, deeper and more powerful than the others.

Jim wobbled to a halt. "Frankie, get Danny inside and shut the door."

"What? Jim, you-"

"Do it. Please?"

"Daddy?"

The group of zombies parted, and one of them stepped forward. Jim didn't recognize the corpse, but he instinctively knew who resided inside it.

"Ob."

"Nice to meet you." Ob grinned. "We were never formally introduced, but Baker's memories told me so much about you. I see that you found your boy. That's touching. Now you can die together."

Jim's eyes didn't leave Ob. "Danny, I love you."

"Daddy!"

Jim's vision blurred as shock set in. He felt weak from blood loss, and the pain traveling up his leg was excruciating. He turned toward Danny.

"I'm very proud of you, and I love you."

"DADDY! NO!"

"I love you more than infinity."

He turned back to Ob.

Weeping, Frankie pulled the screaming little boy inside the shelter, and slammed the door shut. The clanging steel echoed in the sudden silence.

Hell, Pigpen had said, you could set off a bomb right next to it and that steel wouldn't buckle.

Jim hoped the old vagrant was right. He'd started out on this quest to save his son.

He'd succeeded.

He thought back to what he'd told Martin inside Don's garage.

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I'll sacrifice myself before I'll let those things get my son.

Ob kept smiling.

Jim grinned back, even as the pain surged through him and his blood continued to flow.

The zombie craned his neck upward, studying the reinforced steel walls. The other zombies closed ranks again, gathering around him. They pointed their weapons at Jim. Their stench was masked by the smell of the sewers, and Jim guessed that was how they'd snuck up on them. Don's corpse leaned against the tunnel wall, the head dangling at an impossible angle.

"Did you think you'd be safe inside that tin can?" Ob asked. "You humans amaze me. So determined to survive, when the alternative would be much easier."

Jim fingered the trigger, stroking it slowly. "What alternative?"

"Having the good grace to die, and quickly. What do you live for? What is there to look forward to? Cancer? War? Famine? We offer a much better choice, don't you think?"

"No thanks."

"It doesn't matter where you hide. Did you really think you could escape us underground?"

"I started this underground. I reckon I'll finish it underground too."

Ob laughed. "You aren't the first. The slaves in Egypt and Rome lived and died in the mines. I remember the Sumerian priests, who lived in underground dwellings, and used tunnels to visit one another. Poor bastards weren't allowed to see the daylight, and only ventured to the surface after dark. The Crimeans hid underground during the Tartar invasions. You are no better than a

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lowly worm. Your kind always cowers beneath the earth, Jim Thurmond."

"My boss and my fourth-grade teacher called me Thurmond. Everybody else called me Jim. You don't know me, so don't call me either."

"But of course I know you. Your friend Baker's memories are my own. I know all about you and Martin. Where is he-inside with the others? No matter. You escaped me once, but it ends here. I'm going to enjoy killing you, but I think I'll keep you alive long enough to watch as I pull your son's intestines from his stomach and feed them to him."

Jim's eyes flicked up to the ceiling and then back to Ob. Ob noticed the movement and looked up as well. He laughed, and then stepped closer.

"Praying to your God? He can't help you now, Jim. All He can do is watch. And when we've killed the rest of you, and my brothers are freed from the Void, His screams will be like thunder and His tears will be like rain. And then, when the second wave is over, we will drown His creation in fire."

Jim rocked backward on his heels. "Well, you're half right."

"What do you mean?"

Jim tilted the flamethrower upward and squeezed the trigger. Orange fire erupted from the nozzle and engulfed the gas mains in the ceiling above them. There was a bright flash of light. Jim closed his eyes as the heat blasted against his face.

"More than infinity, Danny ..."

On the streets above them, the earth moved.

The rain had stopped.

354 EPILOGUE

The motherless child and the childless mother awoke in the darkness. The cat lay between them, purring and twitching in its sleep. Frankie turned on the flashlight, thankful that the shelter had included batteries among the stockpiled supplies.

She rose, and checked the door. Remarkably, the reinforced steel had withstood the blast, but the door had twisted in its frame. The second night, undead rats had burrowed through the wreckage and tried to squeeze in through the crack. She'd fought them off, and then used a tube of silicone sealant and some boards to seal it off. She'd found both in a storage locker. It wasn't a marvel of engineering, but it was enough to keep the smaller zombies out.

So far ...

She made her way across the room, and rummaged through a cardboard box, producing a package of freeze-dried corn. She tore the wrapper open with her teeth.

"You hungry, Danny?"

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"No." His voice was hoarse.

She emptied the package into a container, and poured a bottle of water over it. They had no way to heat the food up, so she set it aside, waiting for the water to be absorbed.

"You've got to eat, kiddo."

"I don't want to eat. I want Daddy."

Frankie fought back the tears. In the corner, Pigpen's blood still stained the floor. He'd died of his gunshot wound shortly after the explosion. Frankie cracked his skull with an iron bedpost before he could get back up again, and disposed of the corpse out the rear exit. The front entrance was blocked, buried in tons of rubble, but the back door was clear. She'd briefly opened the hatch since getting rid of Pigpen, just to empty the coffee can they were using for a toilet.

She crossed back over to their cots and sat down next to Danny. He snuggled tight against her and she held him close, smoothing his hair and stroking his back with her fingernails. She breathed in his scent and closed her eyes.

Danny tried to speak, but his voice was cut off by a sob. His entire body trembled.