Desperate Souls (25 page)

The zombie landed on top of him, and when Jake looked back, he stared into the undead thing’s dry eyes. Liquid brain continued to pour over him. Louis’s eyes did not change as his soul escaped its prison and faded.

“Don’t just lie there. Get your ass up!”

Jake shoved Louis’s corpse off him and leapt to his feet, grateful to be off the pile on the floor. Edgar had finished off the table zombies, but a score of the things had surrounded them.

Before he could join in the melee, Jake wiped the brain juice from his face onto his jacket sleeve in disgust. Then he opened fire. Shifting his aim from left to right, he turned his body so that his back met Edgar’s. Bracing their shoulder blades against each other’s, they let loose with semiautomatic gunfire. Jake succeeded in dropping four of the things before his gun barrel slid into the locked position.

“Reloading!” He ejected the Glock’s magazine, fished another from his jacket pocket, and slapped it into the Glock’s grip. The undead force had gained significant ground, and he saw the gray of their eyes. Squeezing the trigger, he held it in the depressed position. The gun barked in his hands, spitting empty shells and spewing smoke as he laid down a blanket of gunfire.

Zombie heads snapped back, eyes exploded, and liberated souls rose. The creatures he hadn’t destroyed stumbled over the carcasses of those he had. He supposed that he had matched Edgar’s body count. Then his gun locked again. So did Edgar’s. Another dozen zombies charged at them.

“Shit!” Edgar said.

“Run!”

They spun in opposite directions, and Jake ran past the furnace, where a pair of zombies reached out to claw at him. Without missing a beat, he pounded one’s head with the Glock’s butt, knocking it against the furnace but not inside it.

Damn it.

Feeling bodies all around him, he dared to peek over his shoulder and saw half a dozen zombies sprinting after him like track stars, none of them breaking a sweat or breathing heavy.

Or breathing at all.

Jake picked up his pace, but with the Glock in his right hand, he had difficulty pumping both arms. Feeling fingers tickling his collar, he stomped one foot on an invisible brake and dropped to the floor in a protective ball. The creature that had been reaching for him flipped over him, and the other zombies swarmed past him. Springing to his feet, he ejected the magazine onto the floor and slapped another in its place.

My last one …

He stepped forward and aimed the Glock at the zombie on the floor. His first shot blew its face away. The second sheared off the top of its skull. As he watched the flickering soul rise, he saw the other zombies turning to face him. Gunshots rang out behind him.

Come on, Edgar …

Taking careful aim, he fired two shots, the first a clean hit, the second a complete miss. He fired again, taking out his second target.

Five shots gone already. I can’t keep this up.

Breaking into a run again, he veered right, circumventing the remaining three zombies pursuing him. He made for the metal stairway leading to the catwalk he and Edgar had passed earlier. As he climbed the metal stairs, he heard the zombies right behind him. Gripping the metal railing with his left hand, he turned and pressed his Glock’s barrel against the forehead of a zombie within arm’s reach and squeezed the trigger.

The brain juice blown out the back of the zombie’s head coated the face of the next closest creature. The blinded zombie tripped over the unmoving corpse before it, and the zombie bringing up the rear stumbled over its predecessor. With their heads in such close proximity, Jake put a bullet in each skull.

Eight rounds fired. Five left…

He heard a steady burst of gunfire in the distance. Scanning the factory, he saw no sign of Edgar, just four more machete-wielding zombies running in his direction. “Edgar!”

Another staccato of gunfire.

Goddamn it!
Charging up the stairs, he thought,
I
won’t leave him behind.

Halfway up, his heart skipped a beat as the overseer he had shot in the hip limped into view, a trembling sneer on his face as he raised his pistol. Jake froze. He had sworn never to kill another human being again. Eyes locking on the barrel of the overseer’s gun, he brought up his Glock.

“Drop it!”

The overseer pivoted on his good leg and swung his gun in the direction of Edgar, who had climbed back up the shaft.

Jake lowered his aim and fired first. Blood erupted from the overseer’s right hip, and he went down screaming. Hearing clanging footsteps behind him, Jake took the stairs two at a time and met Edgar at the top. He only had to look at Edgar’s fearful expression to know that an army of zombies pursued him.

With his Glock in one hand, Edgar stepped on the overseer’s wrist and plucked the gun from his hand. He turned around and saw a tide of zombies swarming up the stairs, three wide.

The overseer said, “You’re dead, you motherfuckers!”

Jake looked down at the man writhing on the floor. Then he holstered his weapon. “Pick him up.”

Edgar raised his eyebrows, glanced at the advancing creatures, then holstered his Glock and pocketed the other gun. They encircled the overseer with their arms.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the overseer said, fear evident in his squealing voice.

Jake grimaced as they lifted him. “Giving you some face time with your employees. I think they want to unionize.”

They waited until the closest zombies were four steps below them, then pitched the overseer at them with their combined strength. The man struck them at chest level, knocking them back. The front row of zombies fell into the second row, which fell into the third row, which fell into the fourth. All the undead creatures fell backwards, the overseer screaming the whole time.

Jake and Edgar traded looks, then ran for the window they had sneaked in through. Jake climbed out first, breathing in the night air and leaping onto the corrugated roof below with an echoing thud. He caught his balance as Edgar landed beside him, and they slid down to the roof’s edge and jumped onto the roof of the construction vehicle waiting below.

“Promise me something,” Edgar said as they drew their guns.

“What’s that?” They scrambled down the vehicle’s side.

“If you make it out of here and I don’t, I want your word that you’ll keep an eye on Martin.”

They sprinted around the building’s corner, forgetting discretion.

Jake could not believe what Edgar had just said. “We’re both getting out of here.”

“Your word!”

“All right, all right, I promise!”

They reached the front driveway and came to the locked gates topped with coiled razor wire. Veering left, they vaulted over the lower four-foot fence. Jake passed Edgar as they circled the abandoned gas station. They had to pass the factory’s front gates to reach Edgar’s car, and as they did, the final twelve zombies poured out of the factory and charged the gates, rattling them.

Jake looked at the corner across the street. The car was two blocks to its right. As he calculated how long it would take to reach it, the other overseer emerged from the factory’s front door, a set of keys jingling in one hand.

“Son of a bitch,” Edgar said.

Jake raised his Glock, took careful aim, and fired at the man’s hand. Instead, he hit his thigh, and the man dropped to all fours.

Just as good,
Jake thought.

“Take the keys!” the overseer said. “Unlock the gate!”

A single zombie lurched forward, bent over, and took the keys.

Jake’s eyes widened. “Come on!”

They sprinted to the corner. As they rounded it, they almost collided with a skeletal figure with bulging eyes.

Edgar pressed the barrel of his Glock against the cadaverous-looking man’s forehead.

Jake closed his fingers over his partner’s gun hand. “No! He isn’t one of them. He’s just a scarecrow.”

“Today,” Edgar said.

They heard the gates swing open behind them and turned to see the zombies racing into the street. Edgar lowered his Glock and they took off, shoes pounding cracked sidewalk as they passed empty storefronts. Seeing Edgar’s car a block ahead, Jake looked over his shoulder. The zombies sped forward, their faces impassive.

Jake’s left foot caught in a gaping hole in the sidewalk, and he soared through the air, impacted concrete, and rolled. His Glock slid across the sidewalk. Edgar helped him to his feet. With his left knee throbbing, Jake retrieved his gun and started running again. By the time they reached the Plymouth, their breathing had become ragged.

“Do you want me to drive?” Jake said.

“Fuck you!” Edgar unlocked the car with a remote control, and they climbed inside. As Edgar locked the doors and turned the ignition, Jake secured his seat belt.

“Hang on,” Edgar said, and the car rocketed forward.

Jake massaged his injured knee, and his fingers came away dripping with blood. Glancing at the side mirror, he saw that the zombies had run into the street and were chasing them down Garrison Avenue. He watched them shrink as Edgar floored the gas.

“Zombies,” Edgar said in disbelief as they raced back to Manhattan.

“Fucking, real-life zombies!”

“Be glad they didn’t have guns,” Jake said. He kept looking at the mirror, expecting an army of SUVs to appear on the horizon behind them.

“You
knew
what they were. You knew what we’d find out here.”

“I did know what they are, but I didn’t know what we’d find.”

“Why the hell didn’t you warn me?”

Jake faced him. “Would you have believed me?”

Edgar’s silence provided the answer. Finally, he said, “I have to call this in.”

“What will you say?”

“I won’t report the zombies, just that stockpile of Black Magic.”

“If you don’t report the zombies, anyone walking in there could get taken by surprise.”

“A SNAP unit will be armed …”

“We left those two overseers alive. Trust me—the zombies are relocating the drugs right now. That warehouse will be deserted again in minutes.”

“With all the bodies we left behind? Not likely.”

“This will blow up in your face.”

“We should go back and blow up that
building.”

“Now you’re making sense.”

Edgar looked at him. “The scary thing is, I don’t know if you’re joking or not.”

Neither do I.

“Those things are all over the city. Walking right out in the open. Pushing Magic. No wonder they stink so bad.”

Jake considered their next move. “If we want to stop this, we have to go after upper management.”

“Malachai.”

“I’d like you to get me everything you can dig up on him.”

Edgar snorted. “Oh, really? And risk screwing myself in the department? No way I’m letting you drag me down to your level.”

“Malachai needs to go down first and fast. This has to be done outside the department.”

“It sounds to me like you’re talking about murder.”

I don’t do that anymore.
“No. I think we should frame him for something else so he goes away for a long time. Maybe someone will do him in prison. Or maybe we uncover his location and give that information to Papa Joe. Let him worry about it.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Are you aware of any laws against creating a zombie labor force? Because I see a lot of wiggle room there for any defendant. Besides, if the department screws you, you really can become my partner again. Wasn’t tonight fun?”

“Fuck you. I saved your ass three times.”

“Who’s counting?”

“I am. Why the hell did you chop off that hand?”

Jake didn’t want to tell Edgar about Laurel yet. “I just thought we might need evidence someday. Something the CSU boys can work on if it comes down to that.” Sometimes his own lies impressed him.

“What are you going to do in the meantime, sleep with it under your pillow?”

“That’s not a bad idea. I could use the extra buck.”

“Especially with your client dead.” Edgar’s cell phone issued a series of beeps. He checked the display and answered it. “Go ahead, Maria.”

Maria.
Jake felt glad that he had insisted on Edgar coming alone. There was no need to drag her into this. He listened to her loud, excited voice coming from the phone.

“What?” Edgar sounded dumbfounded. Maria continued to buzz like a bee. “I’m on my way in from the Bronx right now. I can be there in half an hour or so.” Maria’s buzzing calmed. “Right. Right. See you soon.” He handed the phone to Jake for him to power it down.

“Trouble?”

“Brown and Beck are both dead. From the looks of it, Beck overdosed in his apartment, and Brown blew his brains out on the street near his car.”

Jake felt the blood drain from his face. He recalled how strung out Gary had appeared at One PP, and he could not help remembering the morning after his own fall from grace when he had tasted his gun barrel.

“I’m going to drop you off and report to the scene. This is going to be one long assed night for me.”

Not for me,
Jake thought.
I’m crashing as soon as I get inside my office.