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Authors: Dan DeWitt

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BOOK: Orpheus Born
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She blushed. "I think I do." She took the fourth glass.

They all raised their drinks. "Where's yours?"

I smiled and raised the bottle to them. "To new friends in new world."

Everyone tilted their glass back and took a pull. As I suspected, Sam and Mutt weren't new to Scotch. Mutt said, simply, "Wow."

Lena and the kid each took a sip and started to sputter.

Sam didn't let Fish put his glass down. He put his fingers underneath it and pushed it to Fish's lips. "The lady has an excuse. You drink up, young buck."

Lena surprised everyone by throwing hers down. She coughed and said, "Lady, my ass."

I laughed. It felt good. It had been a hellish day,  and I was going to voluntarily make it worse the next night. "First order of business is weapons. We have a chopper ride to the gun store tomorrow night."

Fish asked, "Night? Isn't that, I don't know, an awful idea?"

"No, I think he's on to something. They seemed a little less aggressive when it got darker. Like maybe their senses had a harder time adjusting."

"That's what I'm thinking, Mutt. And if we hit the right places, we can get some gear that really gives us an advantage."

"Swell."

"Can't back out now, kid, you drank the Scotch."

"Who's backing out? I'm just worried that it will be harder to find one of you geezers in the dark when you break a hip."

More laughter. I really wanted it to last longer, but everyone needed some sleep. And I had to prepare myself to lead people again. I put the top back on the Macallan and said, "Let's get some rest. And thank you all."

"No problem ... Orpheus."

I looked at Fish. "What was that again?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just your story. Going back into Hell to rescue your wife and kid; it sounds a lot like the legend of Orpheus. Plus, it's a kick-ass nickname and you look like an 'Orpheus'."

I thought about chastising him for treating it like a joke, but I realized that wasn't what he was doing at all. Maybe he was right; m
aybe I'd have a better chance down there if Cameron Holt took some time off. "Orpheus. Huh."

I liked it immediately.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

We had a plan for the first night. Chopper ride to the roof of the gun store, break in, grab as much stuff as we could carry, g
et out, prepare for the big job of getting the med truck. It was a good plan. Simple.

A few hours before we were going in, Trager had to fuck it up by insisting we bring a fifth.

He found us in the locker rooms, rooting through the lockers. "You need another one, Holt."

The other guys looked on, curious to see where this one was going.

"Pretty sure we don't."

He insisted. "One more guy means more weapons and ammo coming back here. I figure you'd be thrilled."

I tried on a maintenance worker's jumpsuit. I knew right away it was too tight. The makers apparently had a different idea of what "XL" was supposed to mean. "I would be, Marty, if there was another person I could trust to not get me killed. I have my team."

He was getting agitated. I enjoyed it. "What about Anders? You fought the zombies with him."

I slammed the locker door and faced him. "I would sooner make five solo trips than have him on my team. He's a nutcase. If you don't see that, your problem, not mine."

"You and I both know that you'll only get one chance at the gun store. With that chopper hovering there, you won't have long before hundreds of them on your ass."

I pressed him. "You want an inside man, someone to keep an eye on us. You don't need one. I'll treat you as square as you treat me. And let me tell you, this isn't a good start."

"Fine. But if you die, so will a lot of other people." He stormed out.

We all watched him leave. As soon as he was out of earshot, Mutt said, "Hey, boss, I was thinking ..."

"Yeah, I know he's got a point. Four does feel a little light. But there's no way I'm bringing that Anders prick. Ideas?"

Sam shrugged, but Fish said. "There's another security guy here that might be all right. Merrick. Air National Guard, I think."

"Find a suit, then go talk to him. If you think he's got the nerve, bring him."

"I'm on it."

 

 

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

The Merrick guy had the nerve. All you had to do was ask him.

"I can't wait to get down there and grease some of those fuckers!"

Mutt said, "Take it down a notch, kid. There'll be plenty of time in the future for that. This right here is a scavenge mi
ssion. In and out."

Merrick forced himself to simmer down, although I could tell that it actually pained him to do so. "Yes, sir!"

Sam and Fish exchanged exasperated looks.

I pulled the new guy aside and said, "As of this moment, we have four handguns and less than a hundred rounds between us. Going in guns blazing is out of the question. If you want to take a couple of shots while we're flying away with more weapons than we can handle, you be my guest."

"Understood."

"You ever seen combat?"

He looked unsure what to say.

"There's no shame in saying no." I paused. "I really wish I could."

"No, sir, I haven't." His mask of bravado slipped a little. He was understandably scared.

"Then just do what I say." I tried to lighten the mood. "Yeah, the dead are coming back to life, but we have the guns. HUA?"

He smiled. "HUA."

Mutt called over, "We're just about set, Orpheus."

"Then let's hit the roof."

We started trudging up the stairs. Fish said what I, and I'm pretty sure everyone else, was thinking. "Damn, it feels like I'm walking The Green Mile. Only up."

When we got to the roof, we met with the pilot, Jameson. He was a gruff bastard, and I figured he wasn't too happy about his new job, but all I cared about was that he could get us there and back in one piece. "Let's get this over with," he said by way of introduction. I heard him mumble something about "goddamn zombies" as he headed to do his checks.

I heard the door open behind us. I figured it was Trager, here to give us a last-minute pep talk.

Instead, it was Lena. "Hey, guys, I just wanted to wish you good luck." She hugged each one of us in turn. She started with the new kid, and said some words of encouragement to him. Jameson fired up the helicopter. By the time she got to me, she would have had to yell to be heard. Instead, she pulled my head down so she could speak directly into my ear. I've kept those words with me ever since; every time I've felt like giving up (and there have been too many to count), they kept me moving.

She said, "You come back, Cam. Y
ou have a lot of unfinished business."

 

 


 

 

 

I was military for over ten years, but I’d never been in a helicopter. In fact, I hate flying. I know that may sound odd coming from someone in the Air Force, but I became a military cop partially because I kne
w I’d spend most of my time on the ground.

The chopper ride was oddly refreshing, once I’d triple checked my seatbelt. We flew a few hundred feet above the dying island. I don’t know what everyone else thought or was looking at, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of the movement of the zombies below me. There were just so many of them, and they followed the sound of the helicopter. From a distance, their movements gave the illusion that the chopper was leaving a gentle wake behind it.

Fish tried to lighten the mood.  “Just like fuckin’ Saigon, eh, slick?” When no one responded, he said, “Yeah,
Die Hard
!” and air high-fived the group. I’d grown to really like his wiseass attitude (and occasional signs of being well-read) in a very short time. As I said before, I trusted him, and that goes a long way. He was the guy I was counting on to keep our spirits up, because I wasn't in much of a joking mood.

I looked for signs of life (more accurately, signs of anything other than un-life) in the streets below, but I knew that was pointless exercise. Even if people were still alive … and I had to believe that they were, if only to keep my own sanity … they wouldn’t be outside. They’d be huddled in buildings, behind every locked door and makeshift barricade they could muster, in the dark, afraid to make a sound.

Even thinking back on all I’ve been through from a personal survival standpoint, I’ve been very lucky. Others were just waiting for help to arrive, even though help had no idea where to look. In reality, those folks were just waiting to die.

That didn’t exactly improve my mood, but it did help crystallize my resolve a bit as we approached Ruddy’s Gun and Military Surplus.

I pulled the list out of my packet and reviewed it again. We’d decided that if it couldn’t be easily carried and loaded quickly that we weren’t going to waste time with it. That would rule out most of the highly illegal stuff that I’d bet my life savings Ruddy kept in his second floor apartment. Ruddy was a responsible gun owner and vendor, but he was also, how do I put it, fucking nuts with conspiracies. So we’d go with lighter stuff with lots of available ammo.

Jameson tapped me on the shoulder. I turned on my headset radio.

“Get on that roof as quickly as you can. There’s a crosswind that’s pissing me off.”

“Got it.”

"And hurry. It's not like we have unlimited gas for this thing, either."

I motioned for everyone to grab the meager gear we had. For weapons, we had a handful of pistols and a few crowbars liberated from the maintenance room, and that was just about it. The idea was to change our situation drastically within the next few minutes.

Mutt unrolled the rope ladder and swung a leg over. He waved his hand down to tell Anders to get lower. We got rocked back and forth by the wind that I’d been warned about, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle. Mutt yelled, “Roof’s clear!” and headed down.

Everyone made it down safely, although I was the one who made it the most harrowing. The wind pulled the rung from underneath my waiting boot and I slipped. Fortunately, I had a death grip on the ladder. I was only about fifteen feet up, but I couldn’t see a scenario where I wouldn’t get hurt badly. I’m not even that old, but I really felt ancient just then.

I touched down on the roof. The other guys were looking over the edge at the zombies. They were swarming around us, drawn by the sounds of our approach. They were scratching and clawing trying to climb up the brick face to get to us. From this height, they weren't anything resembling a threat, but in order to do our business we'd have to get down to ground level. And, due to the glaring lack of roof access, we'd have to do it on the outside.

"Where's the door?" Fish asked. "Where's the damn door?"

"Relax," Sam said as he uncoiled the rope. "We prepared for this. A little climbing, that's all." He tied two separate ropes off around an air conditioning unit.

Mutt laughed. "Yeah, piece of cake."

The Merrick kid hadn't said anything up to this point. To be fair, there probably wasn't much to say.

I asked Sam, "You feeling strong?"

He nodded.

"Okay, I want two up here for lifting. Mutt, you're down there with me. So I need one more."

Fish and Merrick looked at each other. I waited them out. They were working this out between them.

Merrick broke the silence. "You've fought these things before, right?"

Fish nodded. He seemed to accept going down with relative calm.

Merrick surprised everyone by saying, "No, I meant that you know you can do it. I have to find out sometime. Might as well be now."

I was impressed, but I also didn't want to give him a chance to change his mind. I wrapped the rope around my waist several times and stepped to the edge. "Well, let's get this over with. Once we get in, we'll fill some duffels with weapons and you two pull them up."

"Sure thing, Orpheus." I was still getting used to the name. "We'll get warmed up for when we have to pull your giant ass to the roof. Oh, wait, we have to lower your giant ass down right now."

"I'll try to use my legs." I dropped one leg down and said, "So help me God, if you joke around while I'm on this thing..."

Fish said, "Even I'm pretty sure we should leave the goofing back at the hospital." I felt a little bit better. I remember thinking that I'd done this exact same kind of thing on the obstacle course way back in basic training. No big deal.

All it took was being lowered down a few feet for that to change. As soon as team disappeared from my line of sight, I felt completely isolated. Then I looked down at the throng of hungry things falling all over each other to get to me, and I figured that isolated wasn't so bad sometimes.

BOOK: Orpheus Born
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