No Mere Zombie: Deathless Book 2 (30 page)

Jordan began pacing again, glancing at her occasionally. Clearly the answer was too complicated to be explained through mime. He paused, turning to face her. Jordan planted both hands against the glass, eyes boring into her. His face curled into a snarl, sweat beading his forehead.

Liz!

The voice crashed down around her like a rolling wave of thunder. Overpowering and more than a little frightening.

“Can you think more quietly?” she asked, wincing at the ringing in her head.
 

I’m sorry.
His voice was still loud, but tolerable.
I told you I’m not good at this shaping crap. The beast showed me how to escape. I just looked at the latches and wanted them undone. I could feel the locks, feel the mechanism inside. Then they popped open. The beast calls it telekinesis. Probably won’t work for you. Guess you’ll have to rely on brute strength.
 

“What do you think they’re going to do to us? I mean, why are we alive?” Liz asked. Maybe Irakesh was the classic villain and prone to villainous mistakes, but Mohn certainly wasn’t. Everything they did was with a cold, methodical purpose.

Study.
Jordan thought back, finally retreating to his bench.
I don’t think they had any forewarning about the zombies. They knew an enemy was coming somehow, but The Director assumed it was the werewolves. The sudden appearance of zombies threw everything they knew out the window. If it were me I’d bring us back and try to convert us into weapons. They can use us to make more werewolves, then use those werewolves as shock troops against the zombies.

“So how do we escape? Do you have any allies we can turn to?” she asked, hoping he had a solution. She certainly didn’t. Liz shrank a bit within the confines of the straps. She so badly wanted to break into a hysterical crying fit. Horror bloomed as she realized again that he could probably hear her thoughts. She resisted slamming her defenses into place. She needed him in her head right now.

I’m sorry, Liz. I don’t have a lot of good news on that front. I delved into their commander's mind sort of accidentally and it turns out it's someone I know. A guy named Yuri. So do you, actually. You tore his leg off back at the Ark, though he doesn’t seem too broken up about it, since Mohn has apparently given him a cybernetic replacement.
Jordan explained, leaning forward into the light again.
They’re probably taking us to the White Tower, the Mohn R&D facility in Syracuse, New York. We’ll be brought to The Director and he’ll decide what to do with us. Odds are good we’ll be interrogated, tested and then either disposed of or converted into weapons for Mohn. Escape is … unlikely."

Liz closed her eyes
and stopped trying to hold back the tears.

Chapter 47- Early British Trackways

Bridget pushed open the door to the bedroom with her back, balancing the napkin-covered tray in one hand and a dog-eared copy of
Early British Trackways
in the other. The book had survived the end of the world, survived the battle with Irakesh. Somehow that gave her hope that they might as well.

The room was dim and musty, but she resisted the impulse to draw back the hideous yellow curtains. Blair’s face lay directly in their path, mouth open atop the fluffy pillow with its moth-eaten pillow case. Her new senses gave her more about his health than seeing his complexion would have, in any case.

She deposited the tray on the nightstand next to the bed, careful not to make any noise as she retreated to the high backed rocking chair in the corner. She was becoming quite familiar with it, even a little fond of the rasping sound it made as she rocked. It was blessedly normal after everything they’d faced, a tiny reminder of their old life that she could hold onto while waiting for Blair to convalesce. How long would that take?

Not long, Ka-Ken
. The voice rumbled, her truest friend in a lot of ways. One that didn’t judge her for past mistakes.
His reserves were depleted, but the moon has hung high these past nights and his strength returns quickly. He will wake this day, or perhaps the next.

The days were long in Panama and it was still a good hour before dark. Did that mean she had at least that long before he woke? She rose from her chair, bending next to Blair. His hair was as wild as ever, dirty blond curls plastered to his forehead. She brushed them aside, an electric thrill passing through her as she did so.

“How touching,” a sardonic voice said. She spun to find Steve looming in the doorway. Why hadn’t she detected his approach? He gave her a smug smile. “Thought you might have a bit of alone time before I returned? It’s all right. If you need a few minutes, I’ll excuse myself. I wouldn’t want to interrupt you with your new man. Or is it old? I can’t keep track.”

“You’re a real asshole Steve,” Bridget said, bile rising in her throat.
 
Surprisingly, it wasn’t guilt that caused it. It was anger. How could she ever have loved that man, betrayed Blair to be with him? “Yes, I care about Blair. I never stopped caring, unlike you. You were all too willing to shatter his heart and cast him aside.”

“Whereas you felt bad for sleeping with his best friend behind his back?” Steve countered, crossing his arms over the black tank top he’d found somewhere. She’d found those muscled arms so attractive once. “That makes you so much more compassionate than me. I’m sure it’s a real comfort to Blair that you feel bad about betraying him.”

Bridget rose from the chair, ready to lash into him. Then Blair’s breathing changed. It accelerated from long deep breaths to shorter shallow ones. He was waking up. The last thing he needed was the two of them fighting about his most painful memory. “Why don’t you go prepare the plane? You’ve been smug for two days about learning to fly. It’s wonderful you can steal memories from corpses. Why don’t you put it to use so we can follow Irakesh?”

“Sure, why don’t I do that?” Steve said, with a predatory grin. He glanced at Blair, then back at her. “We wouldn’t want to disturb our patient with such an uncomfortable topic, would we? I’ll head back to the airport. If he’s able to walk, bring him. If you two haven’t shown up by morning, I’ll come back and carry him.”

Fear stabbed into her as she considered the subtext to his words. He knew she and Blair had become friends, and also that she wanted more than that. This was a warning, not because he wanted her back. Because he wanted to demonstrate power. Classic Steve. Don’t fuck with him or he’d ruin any chance she’d ever have to mend the rift with Blair. He knew he had her, and he was right. A few choice reminders was all it would take to drive her and Blair apart again. He got off on having that kind of control over people.

“Thank you,” she said, dropping her gaze and sliding it across the floor to Blair. “There’s stew on the stove if you’re hungry.”

He stared at her for a long moment, either gloating or because he wanted to be sure she was properly cowed. Then he was gone, the house’s ancient floor still as death. How did he do that? He’d intimidated her before; now he was positively terrifying. He’d learned so much delving the Mother’s memories as she slept.

“Bridget?” Blair asked, scooting into a sitting position and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “How long have I been out? And where the hell are we?” He peered blearily around the room before his gaze settled back on her.

“We’re in a small villa north of the airport. Someone’s private little castle, though there’s no sign of whoever owned the place. It’s not far from where we found you,” she explained, sinking back into the rocking chair. She clutched the book in her lap like a talisman. “How much do you remember?”

“I remember attacking the plane,” Blair said, tossing the blankets back and crossing to the window. His boxers clung to well muscled thighs, a marked contrast to the bit of fat he’d had when they’d been together. She didn’t necessarily find it any more attractive, but the new body suited him. He yanked open the curtains, wincing at the setting sun. “Trevor was piloting it. I entered his mind and tried to get him to crash it, but I failed. He used that green light to knock me off the plane. I don’t think he wanted to, but Irakesh is controlling him.”

“I gathered that much talking to Steve,” she said, hugging the book to her chest. “He said that your friend almost killed Jordan and tried to kill him. I know you were close, but it looks like he’s an enemy now, Blair.”

“Maybe,” Blair said, turning to the tray of food. He twitched aside the napkin, picking up the thick bowl and the bent silver spoon. He kept talking between shoveled bites. “Thank you for the stew. It’s good. Anyway, I think Trevor is battling the thing in his head the same way we do. Eventually he’ll master it, just as we did. I just hope he does it in time to stop Irakesh.”

“You have a lot of faith in a guy who almost killed you,” Bridget said, probably more harshly than she should have. This Trevor was Blair’s friend and no doubt he was wrestling with the grief. “He dropped you almost a mile. Every bone was broken when we found you. I don’t know how you’re still alive. You’ve been out for three days.”

“Three days?” Blair said, choking on the stew. He set the nearly empty bowl back on the tray. “Irakesh could be there by now. I can barely feel him.”

“Maybe he is,” Bridget said, rising from the chair. She put a comforting hand on Blair’s shoulder. “We can’t change how things happened; all we can do is decide what’s next. Steve is at the airport preparing a plane for us. Apparently he found a zombie that used to be a pilot. Steve’s learned how to pluck memories from their minds and believes he can get us to San Francisco.”

“That’s good news, I guess,” Blair said, shrugging. “I don’t know what we’ll find when we get there, but we have to pursue him. Even if he’s reached his destination, there’s still a chance that we can find a way to get the key back. Did you see what happened to Liz and Jordan?”

“Mohn took them,” Bridget said, releasing his shoulder and sitting on the corner of the rumpled bed. “I went looking for them while Steve searched for you in the jungle. I watched them take off and I could smell their trail leading into the plane.”

“So Mohn has Liz and Irakesh got away. It’s good that we’re so far away from the Mother. She’d probably burn me to death with her laser eye beams,” Blair said, eyes twinkling. He plopped down next to her, picking up the papaya she’d cut for him. “I know I should be depressed, but you know what? I’m not going to let this get to me. We’re alive. Steve has found an amazing way to help us track Irakesh. I still have the Mother’s access key and we’ve got you to deal with Cyntia. Three of them versus three of us.”

“You’ve changed a lot, you know that?” Bridget said, giving him a playful punch on the arm. “The old Blair would be brooding in the corner and cursing our misfortune. I like the new you.”

Blair gave a dazzling smile and then looked down uncomfortably as if he’d just remembered something. It wasn’t much of a stretch to guess what. He cleared his throat, taking the book from her hands. “
Early British Trackways
? This is the first book written about ley-lines, isn’t it? I remember you reading this back at Stanford. You wanted to go to England to measure electromagnetic sites.”

“You called me a starry-eyed pagan,” Bridget said, laughing. She tapped the cover of the book with her index finger. “Looks like I was right. The Arks store energy. Why couldn’t old ruins and sites do the same thing? The Mother said that she believed the Ark was built there because it harnesses the power flowing through the area. What if that’s where the greatest number of ley-lines intersect? Their whole society seems to have been built on the power of the sun and the moon. What if the ley-lines channel that energy?”

“Maybe you’re right,” Blair conceded, flipping through the book. He looked up at her, grinning again. “You look shocked. I know I’m the diehard scientist, but it’s hard to argue with evidence. We’re using the power of the moon. Irakesh uses the power of the sun. The Ark itself absorbs energy. What if ancient cultures were aping their forbears, building pyramids and stone monuments to capture magical energy? If that power had stopped flowing from the sun, some of it would still be present on earth. What if all those monuments were trying to capture the last little bit of that energy, fueling dying cultures across the globe?”

“That could account for a lot of ancient myth,” Bridget said, smiling now as well. She missed this side of him and it touched her that he was willing to share it again. “It could also explain why there’s no magic today, or at least there wasn’t any. If it gathered at places like the Great Pyramids or Tikal, then the people there would have used it until it was gone. Once that happened, those civilizations would have lost their power source and fallen apart.”

“Maybe that’s why Irakesh so badly wants the Ark. If it’s situated right in a middle of a bunch of them, that would give him a whole lot of power,” Blair theorized, handing her the book.
 

His fingers brushed hers. Her heart was beating so quickly. She met his gaze for an instant, shocked to find a hunger smoldering there that she’d thought extinguished forever. Bridget leaned forward and kissed him for all she was worth. It was warm and salty and right.
 

Then he pushed her back onto the bed and there were no more words.

Chapter 48- Skyhammer

The Director marched down the corridor, flashing his badge at the in-wall scanner he’d ordered level seventeen be outfitted with. It shot a brief red line over the card, then the entire panel turned green and the twenty-four-inch titanium doors slid open. During that fraction of a second, the card had checked his DNA, his security clearance and any dangerous pathogens he might be carrying. It was a miracle of modern medicine, one that would never again be found anywhere else. The factory that had manufactured them had gone dark, along with the rest of China.