Dead Air (24 page)

Across the room, where the only set of stairs connected the first and second floors, Tiberius pulled one of the tube-like grenades from his belt. He twisted a small knob on the top and then pitched it as far as he could towards the figures below. With a metallic echo, the grenade bounced once before it was consumed in a bright flash and deafening roar of noise. Zombies were flung up and out from the center of the explosion and deposited around the first floor in a ragged circle.

"I thought he was dead?" Tiberius asked Moira, nervously glancing over his shoulder at Carlos.

"He was!" She exclaimed while she pulled the goggles over her eyes. "Dead as anythin'." The goggles hummed softly a moment followed by a soft glow in the lenses while she turned the dials. "Oh, no." She lamented.

Adonia, who knelt by an old metal handrail, took aim and fired once, then twice. Two zombies that had reached the bottom of the stairs immediately doubled over and collapsed, which temporarily blocked the path for the others. "Oh, no?" She echoed, her Portuguese accent growing thicker as her nerves grew agitated. "Do I want to know why you are saying 'oh, no'?"

"Mostly likely ya don't." Moira answered quickly, turning to examine Carlos with the goggles. "But ya need ta know. In the journal, there be other parts ta the zombie makin'. There be the ones like below us. They be what was called 'phase one'. Kinda mindless, need ta be controlled, such as that." She gestured to Carlos. "He be 'phase two'."

Tiberius pulled out another grenade, then paused before he primed it. "Phase two?" He echoed.

Moira looked over at the zombies on the first floor, then at Tiberius. "Aye, phase two. Turnin' dead people inta some kinda stronger, better zombie. Can't die, much stronger, can keep their mind about 'em. Accordin' ta the journal, whoever dream't it all up figured not much would stop 'em. Fire maybe. A really hot one, like from a smelter. Na much else."

Tiberius glanced over his shoulder at Carlos in amazement. "Fire? That hot? In this storm?"

Adonia aimed, then shot two bullets down the stairs at another zombie. "You do not know the half of it, Amigo." The zombie she shot fell hard onto the stairs face first, only to be replaced by two more. She pointed beyond the zombies at one of the open doors to the warehouse.

Behind the group of zombies, two men had entered. Dressed in neutral brown trousers, coats and cotton shirts, both carried a rifle. They knelt by one of the doors inside and fired at the trio atop the stairs. Adonia ducked and Moira fell flat to the floor. Tiberius twisted a knob atop another grenade, then tossed it below before he dropped flat on the floor, also. The grenade hit as the other had done before, then detonated in a brilliant flash of light and explosion. Bullets buzzed through the air around and above them.

"There's two of 'em with goggles like mine. I can tell. They be just outside the door. I canna hear 'em but I can tell they're there." Moira told her companions.

"Can you block them, or do whatever those goggles do to control the zombies?" Tiberius asked.

"I'm tryin'!" Moira exclaimed, frantically working the goggle's controls while speaking softly under her breath.

"I can feel you in my mind, Señorita. You singing ever so sweetly!" Carlos called out, his gravelly voice thick with a Spanish accent. "You want to turn the zombies, bend them to your will, eh?" He snapped the reloaded revolver shut. "I think it will not be so easy this time, Señorita, you see they are ready for you to try. But struggle away, I enjoy it when you struggle." Carlos chuckled evilly, electricity crackling along the wires in his neck.

Moira slammed a fist onto the floor in frustration. Her latest attempt to control the zombies had failed, almost as if they had been ready for her to try, just as Carlos said.

"I wish someone'd shut him up." Moira growled and tried another sequence on the dials.

Just forty feet away, Dr. Von Patterson had stepped out with a broken chunk of wood, four feet long and easily as thick as a man's arm. Carlos' sudden turn caught the archeologist flat footed without any cover. The zombie raised his pistol with a sneer and fired twice. Startled by the shot, Dr. Von Patteron tried to dive for cover. Instead, he slipped on a patch of rainwater, fell flat onto his back, and hit his head hard on the floor. That one accident saved his life, as two bullets screamed through the air where the archeologist's heart had just been.

"For a learned man, Señor, you have so little sense. How to do you even stay alive, eh?" Carlos demanded in a rage. "You were to be brought back alive... I do not think now I care anymore for Señor RiBeld and his ultimatums. Señor RiBeld can be angry if I return you broken. What can he do, kill me? I am already dead!" The zombie laughed, slowly stalking toward Dr. Von Patterson. Meanwhile the archeologist rolled onto his side, his mind a daze and unaware of the imminent danger so close to him. "I have grown tired of you, Señor. I will start with your legs. I will shatter them bone by bone. No more running then, eh? Then, I will break more of you, until you scream for me to end it. But no, I will make you wait and watch, while I break your friends. Starting with that pig, O'Fallon." Carlos stopped two strides away from the dazed researcher, shoved his pistol in its holster and looked around for a suitable club. "Now, be still. This will hurt very, very much."

Suddenly, Carlos' head jerked to the side as a large chunk of broken wood the size of a man's fist hit him squarely in the temple. The Spaniard's eyes blurred, and he sidestepped away from Dr. Von Patterson, shaking his head. He blinked twice, then turned around to see where the attack had come from. Next to a small pile of broken wood, O'Fallon had removed his shirt and was using it as a makeshift sling.

"Krumer, now!" O'Fallon shouted, reaching down for a metal pipe next to him.

With a roar, Krumer raced out of hiding and buried a shoulder into Carlos' right side. The impact doubled the zombie over sideways and tossed him into the air, then down hard onto the floor. Meanwhile, Krumer staggered forward two paces to a stop, breathing hard from exertion. Carlos bounced once then rolled over, a blind rage hot in his eyes. Krumer's hand instinctively dropped for his pistol, but he was not fast enough, not nearly by half. Before Carlos fully settled, he grabbed a pipe from a damaged fire cannon and, ripping it loose, threw it in one swift motion. The steel pipe slammed into the first mate with the crunch of bone before the pipe and Krumer both skidded across the floor, coming to a stop five feet away.

"Stupid. You think you can out muscle me?" Carlos said icily. "You are nothing to me!" He screamed. "Nothing!" Slowly a grin spread over the zombie's face. "You are like the little ant to me ... so I will slowly step on you, just to hear you crunch under my boot."

Krumer shook his head to clear his vision. The fiend stepped forward, rubbed his hands and flexed his undead fingers, then abruptly jerked backwards as a solid mass of metal slammed into his lower back. Carlos' spine snapped him forward, pitching him headlong into the floor.

Directly behind the zombie, O'Fallon rechecked his grip on the pipe, then swung again. Carlos blinked back the haze and rolled aside just before the pipe fell. He jumped up and smashed his fist against O'Fallon's jaw. The Scotsman staggered back, dazed from the hard blow. He raised a hand to block, but Carlos swatted it aside and pummeled O'Fallon repeatedly. Until at last Carlos reached out and grabbed O'Fallon, lifting him up and throwing him against the side of a fire cannon. O'Fallon grunted and slid down onto his hands and knees, shaking from the pain and abuse, unable to stand.

The Spaniard paused, breathing heavily. "Now, where was I?"

"Right here!" Krumer shouted, smashing the pipe that had hit him against Carlos' already wounded ribs. The zombie grunted with the impact, staggered back, then yanked the pipe away from Krumer. Immediately, he smashed a quick right, then left fist into the first mate's jaw that staggered him backwards. Carlos growled, then stalked forward, hammering away at the first mate repeatedly. Krumer finally collapsed to the floor. After a moment, the first mate drew his hands up under him and hauled himself slowly into a kneeling position. With each motion, his limbs shook in pain, but regardless, the first mate refused to stay down. The zombie knelt down close to Krumer's ear.

"Not done are we, Señor?" Carlos' hot, stale breath wafted over Krumer's face. "Come now, you know you are done. You cannot even stand." The zombie licked his lips. "Let me finish it all now, Señor." He asked Krumer with an almost giddy tone. "Let me make all the pain go away."

With an extreme effort, Krumer stood slowly. At first, Carlos recoiled in surprise, then grinned, stepping back with a over-exaggerated bow that one gentleman would give another. Finally, Krumer got completely to his feet and glared defiantly at the fiend only an arm's reach away. With a snarl, the first mate spat blood in the zombie's face.

"Idiot." Carlos sneered. In a swift move, the fiend yanked free his revolver and shot Krumer. The orc jerked from the impact of the bullet, his face contorted with shock and pain before he was tossed backwards from the force of the blow. The zombie stalked forward and fired again, but the bullet missed, a hastily aimed shot that ricocheted off the floor and out into the room.

"Krumer!" O'Fallon screamed in rage as he saw his friend fall. The zombie turned to confront the quartermaster, but not fast enough. The Scotsman drew and fired until his pistol was empty. This time he aimed, not for Carlos, but for the zombie's gun hand. O'Fallon's aim was true, the bullets tore through the revolver and the hand that held it. The ruined gun clattered onto the deck plate while Carlos staggered back with a howl over his mangled hand.

"Och, ya be feelin' that, eh?" O'Fallon shouted in anger while he tossed aside his empty firearm. "Good!" The Scotsman scooped up the nearby pipe he had used a moment ago, and rushed forward. O'Fallon swung his metal club, but Carlos sidestepped just in time. The pipe harmlessly whistled past the zombie's body. O'Fallon brought the pipe around for another blow, but Carlos stepped in and grabbed the man by the throat, lifted him up, and slammed him down onto the ground. Stunned, O'Fallon jerked twice, then lay still as he slipped into unconsciousness.

Slowly, Carlos turned around. His breath ragged and harsh, eyes bright with hate. Finally he saw what had interested him in the first place. Moira, with the small group at the stairs. He grinned and started forward. The motion drew a warning roar from Tactia.

"Look out!" Arcady shouted from Moira's shirt pocket.

"I got through ta some o' them below. Just keep the others off the stairs. I can be handlin' Carlos." Moira shouted to the others. Before she stood, she reached into her pocket and carefully withdrew Arcady. "Arcady, go find a shady place. I got some work ta do."

The insect looked around quickly and then at Moira. "But Moira ..."

She shook her head. "No givin' me 'but Moira'. Go on. I'll be better knowin' yer safe."

With a grunt, Arcady worked his good set of wings to help support his heavily broken side while he raced off. Once, he stopped to look back, but by that time Moira was already feverishly adjusting a dial on the goggles.

"If you are going to do something Moira, now would be a good time." Adonia commented while she fired another shot down the stairs.

"Almost got it. They're all tied by glowin' strings back ta the one controllin' them." Moira explained while she turned a dial again. "Ta keep me out, they got 'em all tied to each other ... but I'm bettin' if I hook onto one a' the two holdin' all the strings ... then I can tell 'em ta get each other."

The moment she said it, the zombies immediately froze in place. In the back of the room, the two riflemen paused in their shooting to look around at the unmoving zombies nervously. Another two seconds ticked by. Then, without warning, the zombies immediately attacked anything near them, whether it was the riflemen or each other!

Moira rose from the floor after she finished tinkering with her goggles, but by the time she had gotten to her feet, Carlos was already on top of her. Grabbing her by her belt and shoulder, he lifted her high above his head, and tossed the young woman against a nearby wall. Moira bounced off the corrugated metal plates and collapsed to the floor.

With a roar, Tacita lunged at the zombie. Claws extended, she slashed deep along his arm. Carlos roared and swatted the animal aside, more out of anger than pain. She stuck her head hard against the rail and fell instantly limp.

"Tacita! No!" Tiberius shouted. He reached for his grenades as Adonia swung around to shoot Carlos. Unfortunately, neither Adonia or Tiberius were fast enough. Already within reach, Carlos made short work of both of them, beating them senseless in moments. Hard, deep breaths escaped his throat as the Spaniard turned to face Moira.

"Finally." Carlos said slowly, the word dripping from his lips like a succulent, yet poisonous wine. "Ever since you caused me to rot in that prison, I have dreamed of this moment. When I am done, you will beg to die. You will do anything for me to have that release. But, once you die, I'll bring you back ... just for me." He finished with a gleeful, high-pitched giggle. "Forever."

"Shoulda killed ya when I be havin' the chance." Moira said, her hands flashing to her guns. "Won't be makin' that mistake twice. I know how they made ya. Yer thinkin' ya canna be killed. We both know better."

Her pistols came up in a single, fluid motion, faster than the eye could see. Tongues of flame erupted out, and a swarm of bullets streaked towards Carlos while she squeezed the trigger repeatedly. None were aimed for his chest, but for the wires and cables that connected his neck to the leather backpack. When the first bullet struck, it snapped a wire with a sharp metal twang. As he felt it snap, Carlos stopped smiling. The zombie rushed Moira, closing the distance as fast as she could shoot, and doing his utmost to let the bullets hit him anywhere less vital. Once within arms' reach, he slapped the guns from her hands, the force of which spun her around against the wall once more. She managed to face Carlos just as his hands latched onto her throat like a vice, lifting her free of the ground.