One by one, the three dead men began to rise. Sugden stood up and began to gesture as the creatures started walking toward the balcony, stopping just below as if wondering how to get up there to their quarry. Luckily for the men who watched from above, climbing seemed beyond the zombies’ poor intellects.
The creatures stood and watched. All but the last one was mostly intact, though they were all stained red with their own blood. The last one had fared much worse, having been nibbled on by its maker. His nose was gone. Only a red, gaping hole marked where it had been. Gruesome was a good word to describe it, Sam thought from the safety of his makeshift tree stand on the perimeter of the woods. He could see the details through his binoculars, the area between the barn and house well lit by floodlights.
Sugden was holding forth, like a lecturer in a college class who liked to listen to himself talk but at length he finally turned to survey his creations. It looked like he was giving them simple orders to walk to the barn and back again. They did this a few times before Sam spied the rifle. Sugden had it leaning up against the balcony rail. He must’ve placed it there before Sam had gotten on scene. It wasn’t visible until Sugden picked it up and took aim at one of the zombies.
He shot five times and Sam heard right off that the retort wasn’t that of a regular weapon. Sam was familiar with the sound. It was a dart gun. Apparently Sugden had come up with his own version of the toxin that destroyed the zombies.
Sam started counting, trying to gauge how effective Sugden’s concoction was. It was a full two minutes before the creature staggered to a halt and fell to its knees. It didn’t dissolve the way Sam was familiar with. Instead, it lay on the ground in a large, lumpy pile. It was immobilized. That was the important thing. But Sugden’s toxin didn’t seem half as potent as the stuff Sam had loaded in his handgun at the moment.
The other three zombies saw what happened to their friend and scattered. Sugden fired after them but only hit two of them and only with one dart each from what Sam could see. The man couldn’t hit the side of a barn with a flamethrower and he’d just turned his gunmen into zombies. That wasn’t great planning on his part.
It’d be up to Sam to track the creatures through the woods, then quietly take them out when he was far enough away that the sound of his gunfire wouldn’t be noticed. Sam had had more difficult missions, but he wasn’t sure when.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath as he dropped from the tree he’d used as his hiding place.
Now he’d have to hump it through the dark forest after a couple of zombies to make sure none got into town. He had three creatures on his hands. He didn’t want to let them multiply the problem by creating more.
Emily had absolutely no warning when the door to her room at the B&B burst in. She was caught completely off guard with no way to defend herself.
Added to that was the shock. The intruder was none other than Scott Southerland and he had a huge gun in his hand, trained on her chest.
“Scott?” He was the dead last person she’d expected to see. She’d thought she was relatively safe as long as she stayed inside the B&B.
“You’re coming with me, bitch.” His voice was a low, urgent snarl. “And if you make one sound on the way out of this mausoleum, it’ll be your own grave.”
Yeah, now that was pretty clear. The jig was up.
“Why?”
He actually laughed, though it sounded more like a disgusted snicker.
“You’ve interfered in my plans for the last time. I plan on making a clean getaway and my friends will know what to do with you to keep it that way. Now come on.” He waved the gun again and she stood, glad she’d put the ankle holster on under her jeans when she’d changed a few minutes ago. The phone was in her pocket. She only hoped Scott didn’t notice it. “Where’s your boyfriend?”
“Who?” She tried to bluff but knew it was going to be an uphill battle as she preceded him out the bedroom door.
“The new pilot,” he sneered. “Come on, I know he’s been poking around in my business. Just like you. And for that, you’re going to pay.” He nudged her with the barrel of the gun as she hesitated at the top of the stairs.
She walked downstairs, trying to think of how she could get out of this. Nothing came to mind. Scott had the gun and he looked ready to use it.
“I don’t know where he went.”
“Maybe so,” Scott allowed. “But I guess it doesn’t matter. If he’s out in the woods, he’ll be dead by morning.”
She gasped allowing some of her dismay to show. Let Scott think what he wanted. He’d always underestimated her as a pilot because she was female. Maybe she could use that to her advantage somehow in this situation.
He prodded her toward the front door, which was unlocked. It shouldn’t have been at this time of night. That’s when she looked over her shoulder into the living room and saw Mrs. McGillicuddy tied to a chair, her eyes wide and full of tears with a gag in her mouth.
At least Scott hadn’t killed the nice little old lady. That was something, she supposed. There weren’t a whole lot of other guests, but somebody would find Mrs. McGillicuddy at some point, so she should be okay. Emily’s future was less certain.
She didn’t see any alternative but to get in the red Porsche waiting at the curb. The roads in the town were empty this time of night. Most of the respectable citizens of the sleepy burgh were fast asleep in their beds. Although it went against her better judgment to get in the vehicle, she went along with Scott’s demands for now. She’d get her chance…she hoped. She just had to wait for the right moment.
As it turned out, the two who’d been hit with one dart apiece were relatively easy to track. Sam followed them over the ridge line and dropped them within sight of the B&B, though they’d have had a hell of a time getting down the incline the way they moved.
The new ammo and increased range of the weapon made it a lot easier for one man to take out multiple targets from farther out in faster time. The two creatures were down to piles of organic goo in mere minutes.
He’d totally lost track of the third one though. Sam dropped markers on his two kills and took a quick look around. It was hard to tell in the dark woods without proper night vision gear, but he couldn’t pick up sign of the third creature.
Deciding to circle back to the ranch, Sam took only a moment to check that the light was still on in their bedroom and their rental car was still in its parking spot behind the B&B. Emily was safe enough for now. She’d stay put while he dealt with the threat in the woods.
Strengthening his resolve, Sam turned back to the dark forest and wound his way back through the trees, keeping a sharp eye out for the last of the three amigos. It didn’t sit well with him that there was definitely a creature out there, bent on killing, but Sugden was the real target. Sam had to keep eyes on the scientist and his buyers to be sure they cut off the head of the snake.
Prioritizing two awful choices, Sam moved back into sight of the barn and ranch house. Sugden and his two buyers were still on the balcony. They were seated around the table now, talking earnestly. Sam guessed the bidding was on.
He called in to base to give them a sitrep and have them warn the drop team that there was at least one zombie on the loose in the woods between their drop zone and the ranch. Maybe they’d get the bastard on their way in. In a perfect world, they’d get him before he managed to kill anybody else and spread the contagion.
Sykes answered before the first ring faded. “Sitrep,” he barked.
Sam filled him in on events since their last call had ended.
Suddenly, a red Porsche sped up the drive, spitting gravel as it came to a stop in the pool of light between the barn and the house. Sugden stood, agitated as he yelled something down at the man who stepped from the driver’s side.
It was Scott Southerland. Now that wasn’t what Sam expected. He watched as the scene unfolded.
Scott was obviously shouting up at Sugden and Sugden was shouting back, his expression angry. Trouble in paradise, perhaps?
Scott stalked around to the passenger side and threw open the door.
“Son of a bitch!”
“What is it?” Sykes asked sharply but Sam didn’t respond. He was too busy watching the scene unfold.
Emily stood from the passenger side of the car and for one heart stopping moment, doubt crept in. Was she there voluntarily? She wasn’t tied up or anything. Not that he could see.
Then sanity prevailed. No way was Emily playing for the wrong team. She had to have been coerced to accompany Scott out to the ranch.
A moment later, Sam saw the handgun Scott held. Sam tried his best to see if he could tell the model and barrel size. He couldn’t tell if it was the gun Sam had given Emily being used against her—in which case the ammo was absolutely lethal and he couldn’t afford to let Scott get off even a single shot. If it were a regular gun with regular ammo that was bad enough, but the toxic frangibles were a lot worse.
Scott prodded her with the gun barrel toward the house but Sam still couldn’t tell from this distance whether it was her gun or not.
“Sam! Are you there?” Matt Sykes’ voice came to him as if out of a fog and Sam had to refocus.
“I’ve got to go, sir.” Sam had to do something. He didn’t know what yet, but he’d better come up with something real fast.
“No way, Sam. Wait for backup.” It was clear that was an order even though Sykes didn’t say the words.
“I can’t, sir. Scott Southerland just pulled up in a Porsche. He’s got Emily. He’s holding her at gunpoint in the hot zone.” Sam dropped from the tree and prepared for action. “I hate to do this, but I’m going Elvis on you. Sorry, sir. You can court martial me later. If I make it.”
“Dammit, Sam!” Sykes was clearly losing patience. “The team is almost there. Wait—”
Sam cut him off, closing the phone and tucking it into its holder at his waist. He’d never disobeyed a direct order before. Then again, he’d never seen the woman he loved held hostage by a couple of zombie-making madmen before either. Today was a day of firsts. Hopefully it wouldn’t be his last.
Sam maneuvered around the perimeter to edge closer to the house. Closer to Emily. There was a point, still in the tree line, that was only about fifteen yards from the house. Sam hadn’t used it before because it offered no view of the balcony, only of the barn door and part of the space between the house and barn, where the Porsche was currently parked.
He’d trade visibility for proximity and hope it didn’t come back to bite him on the ass. Or that nothing else got close enough to bite him, come to think of it. There was still a zombie unaccounted for. Which only spurred him to greater speed in closing the distance between himself and Scott. He wanted to hear what the bastard was saying to Sugden. As Sam got closer, he began to be able to make out the words.
“—she’s been nosing around this operation too long. I found her in that little town just over the ridge.”
“How did you track her?” Sugden seemed to have calmed down from when Scott had first shown up, if his voice was anything to go by.
“She wasn’t hiding her movements. She called in to the office this afternoon and had herself taken off the flight schedule. She’s never done that before. I placed a few calls and found out where she’d last used the company credit card. Bingo. Back-of-beyond, Idaho. Too much of a coincidence not to check it out.”
“Good thinking, Scott. You’ve done well.”
Why did the scientist’s tone suddenly set Sam’s teeth on edge? The man was planning something. Sam went on even higher alert. Scott still held Emily in front of him like a prize—or a shield.
“You going to let us into the house or do I have to yell up to the balcony all night?” Scott finally asked, sounding suspicious.
Jeez, now the man finally realizes he’s been stuck in the open? Sam didn’t give the guy credit for much in the brains department.
“The house is locked up,” Sugden replied. “But don’t worry. You’ll be all right down there. We’re just concluding our business. Stay put until we’ve finished the meeting.”
With that, Sugden stopped talking and Sam could only assume he’d returned to his meeting with the buyers. Scott shifted his weight uncomfortably. It was easy to see he didn’t like being dismissed.
Sam spotted movement at the doorway to the barn. On the far side.
Oh, crap.
That last zombie was back and he was stained red with blood. He’d made at least one kill while he’d been out in the woods. And now he was stalking Scott Southerland from behind. When no warning came from the balcony, Sam knew Sugden had left both Scott and Emily to the wolves.
Sam couldn’t let that happen.
He didn’t give a rat’s ass about Scott Southerland, but Emily’s life was worth any sacrifice. He broke cover and ran toward them, firing on the run.
His first bullet went wide, embedding itself in the barn door behind the tableau of zombie, Scott, and Emily.
She saw him first and her eyes widened in fear. Scott reacted sluggishly, but still managed to bring his handgun around to take a wild shot at Sam, assuming he was the real source of threat. But he wasn’t.
“Behind you!” Sam shouted. “Get down!”
Firing another of the frangible rounds, Sam nailed the zombie in the chest this time, but there was that thirty second window during which the toxin did its thing, and the creature was too close. Much too close.
One bloodstained, clawed hand reached out and slashed Scott’s neck and back. Blood spurted as Scott finally realized the true danger came from behind. Scott shot wildly, most of the clip in his handgun going into the façade of the ranch house or up into the air. A lucky shot clipped Zhao, knocking him down, but Sam couldn’t see much more than the fact that he was unconscious. He might even be dead.
Sam didn’t really care. He wanted any possible threat to Emily eliminated and that zombie was much too close to her. Scott went down under its claws and his gun went flying. Emily dodged and wove away but she didn’t get clear.
She came up, Scott’s gun in her hand, aimed at the balcony. Sam quickly realized, she was keeping Sugden and Krychek at bay.
In his haste to get to her, he hadn’t cared about them. If they shot him with a regular bullet, he’d heal. Even Emily had a better chance with conventional firearms injury than with the zombie.
Sam slowed, keeping in the shadow of the house, using it for cover.
“Sugden!” he shouted to be heard above Scott’s death screams as the zombie savaged him.
The zombie looked at Sam, but didn’t stop gnawing on Scott, pinning his arms and legs in a savage display.
“Who are you?” Sugden shouted back.
“Someone you don’t want to know. Thing is, I can let you walk away from this, as long as you don’t harm the girl.” He had to shout to be heard on the balcony above the noise of Scott’s screams, which were beginning to die down as life left him.
“You’re the lover,” Sugden said as if piecing the information together. “Convenient.”
“Em,” Sam used a low, urgent whisper that only she could hear. “Get behind the car, then work your way into the barn. Close the door and bar it.”
She shook her head slightly. Just once.
Dammit.
“Sweetheart, that thing can’t hurt me. That’s why they sent me. But it’ll kill you and break my heart. Promise me you’ll get clear.”
Her eyes widened, just a bit, but she nodded almost imperceptibly as she held Scott’s sparsely loaded gun trained on the balcony. She began to slowly edge away. Thank God.
That’s when he saw the slight bulge in her right pant leg, down by her ankle. Good Lord, she had the frangible rounds on her. They might get out of this yet.
“You got my gun with you?” he asked urgently. Again she gave a slight nod. Damn, she was cool under pressure though he knew she had to be quaking in her shoes. He sure as hell was. “When you get to the barn, take it out and use it. I doubt Scott left much ammo in his pistol.”
Knowing she at least had that small protection, he refocused his attention to keeping Sugden at bay. He could easily shoot her, just for fun. Sam was banking on the idea that Sugden wanted to see her eaten by his creation first. An added bonus to his demonstration.
“Do I have your word? Let the girl go and I’ll get you out of this,” he shouted up to the balcony.
“Out of what? I see only two people standing in my way and my little friend down there will take care of you both soon enough.”
Oh yeah. It was official. Sam didn’t like this guy at all.
“What are you going to do when half the town is eating the other half and coming after you too? How will you get your buyers to safety and complete the transaction?”
“That one down there is the last. When he’s done with you two, I’ll dart all three of you. End of problem.”
“Then you didn’t take a good look at the amount of blood on him,” Sam yelled. “He’s been out in the woods, making friends. I wonder what direction they’ll go in and how long it’ll take for them to spread the contagion enough to make a small army?”
Sugden seemed to hesitate. “I have plenty of darts.”
“Yeah, and they don’t work too good, do they?” Sam countered as the zombie finally finished with Scott and turned his attention to Sam, the source of all the noise. It was as good a time as any to show Sugden something he might need if he planned to sell this tech. He took aim and fired one round into the creature as it came toward him.
“Start counting,” he yelled up to Sugden even as he started a silent countdown himself. He moved in the shadow of the building, leading the zombie around, waiting for it to disintegrate.
And then on the count of thirty, it slid into oblivion. A pile of goo on the flagstones leading up to the house.
Silence from above as Sam watched Emily edge closer to the big barn doors. She’d have to close those. Otherwise, it was an open invitation to every zombie in town to join her in there. They liked enclosed, dark places. Only the light at the front of the barn was on right now. The interior was still dark.
“You like my ammo?” Sam taunted, keeping Sugden’s attention on him while Emily made her slow getaway. She was moving at a good pace, making no sudden movements. With any luck, she’d already be behind cover when Sugden realized what she was doing.
“Who are you? CIA?”
“Now, now, Dr. Sugden. You started this escapade with the military, what makes you think they’d just hand it over to the feds? Is Bin Zhao dead? My employers won’t be happy to hear that.”
“You’re saying you’re military? A Chinese agent?”
Sam liked how easily Sugden could be led. For a brilliant man in certain areas, he was proving stupid in most others. Sam could use that to his advantage.
“How is he? Don’t lie to me now,” Sam cajoled.
“Dead. Southerland got lucky with a headshot.”
Sam weighed whether or not he could believe that along with what he’d seen out of the corner of his eye as he’d been running. It made sense. Zhao was probably dead. If Sugden really thought he was some kind of foreign agent, he had incentive to keep the man alive. On the other hand, if he lied and Zhao was dead, lying about it wouldn’t help him.
“That’s unfortunate. How about you, Mr. Krychek? You okay?”
“Who are you?” Krychek shouted back in lightly accented English.
“As I said,” Sam kept stalling while Emily edged away from the line of fire. “I can get you out of this safely. I’ve got the ammo you’ll want if you ever decide to use this technology. Sugden’s darts suck from what I’ve seen. They take too long to work and you need far too many of them. There’s also the problem of range and equipment. My ammo can be shot from regular firearms and achieve similar range to regular ammo.”
“So now you’re an arms dealer?” Sugden snapped angrily. He was losing his cool. He didn’t like not being the smartest one in the room and the ammo thing clearly annoyed him.
Sam watched Emily clear the barn door. She was behind the wall, safe from darts. Maybe not higher caliber bullets, but the darts were the main thing he was worried about right now. That and zombies. So Emily was safe enough for now.
“I can get you out of this. For a price.” Sam stalled for time, taking his phone off his belt and hitting speed dial.
He had to keep Sugden talking, to buy time for the team to arrive. Depending on how many people that zombie had killed before returning here, Sam would need their help to clean up this mess.
“What do you want?” Krychek asked. It sounded like he was getting impatient with letting Sugden run the show. “How much for the ammunition you’re using?”
Sam held the phone to his ear. Sykes answered.
“Sir, Emily’s inside the barn, taking cover. Scott Southerland is dead. Bin Zhao is dead. Sugden and Krychek think I’m a renegade out to sell them the T2 toxin. I’m parlaying with them now to stall for time.”
“Ten million,” Sam shouted upward in response to Krychek’s question. He continued to haggle with him in between reporting back to Sykes.
“I took out all but one of the creatures. I finally got him a few minutes ago, but there’s evidence he killed while he was out of my range. The woods probably contain one or more zombies rising from the dead right about now. Tell the team to be cautious when they get here.”
“They’re twenty minutes out but we have one other alternative if you and Ms. Parkington can get clear.” Sykes spoke as rapidly as Sam did, in between haggling with the foreign buyer.
“Sir?”
“How many unfriendlies on site?” Sykes asked.
“Sugden killed all his men for his demonstration,” Sam replied. “I’m convinced the only people left on site are him and Krychek.”
“How fast can you clear the area?”
Scott Southerland’s Porsche stood between Sam and the barn. From his new vantage point, he could see the keys dangling in the ignition. They could be gone at a hundred and twenty miles per hour if they could just get into the Porsche and drive away before it got shot up.
“Southerland’s sports car is here. A red Porsche,” he told Sykes, trying to figure a way to get them both in it and get out of there.
“Work it, Sam. Try to get in that car. I’ve got Parkington—the Air Force Parkington—in the air and armed to the teeth. He’s got smart bombs that can take out the entire hilltop without anyone knowing he was even in the area. Or so he and his commander assure me. I’ve got clearance from the President. All we need is a clear shot. You’ve already given me the coordinates from the GPS in your phone.”
“Stand by.” Sam firmed his resolve and knew what he had to do.
“You want this ammo, right?” Sam yelled up to the men on the balcony. “I’ve got the formula for the toxin as well. Kill me and you’ll spend months reverse engineering. That is, if anything survives the blast.”
“What blast?” Sugden shouted.
Sam stepped into the light, one hand up, clutching his phone. “This is a trigger device. Dead man switch.” Sam didn’t think either of the men could tell what he was holding from that distance in the uncertain shadows cast by the floodlights. “I fall, I blow up. Considering the size and shape of the charge, you’ll probably go with me.”
Krychek began to applaud. “Well played, my friend,” he said, walking toward the balcony railing. He actually wore a smile on his face. This cold bastard was in his element now, it was clear. Haggling over life and death with desperate men.
“I’m going in there—” he pointed over his shoulder toward the barn “—for a few minutes to let you talk this over. Give me a shout when you’re ready to deal. You can call me Sam.”
Krychek was going to speak, but Sugden’s arm across his chest silenced him. Sugden wore a shit eating grin that made Sam nervous. He knew—or thought he knew—something Sam didn’t. Shit. The die was cast now, he had to play it through.
Sam headed for the barn, never taking his eyes off the men on the balcony.
When he cleared the door, he ducked to the side and spun around, looking for Emily. She was safe. Standing a few feet away, near what looked like a row of barred cells that contained stainless steel tables and a variety of high tech medical equipment. Sam had seen something like this before.
“Emily,” he breathed her name as she rushed into his arms. He hugged her for a quick, timeless moment before setting her away from him. “When I give the signal, I want you to jump in the car. We need to clear out of here as fast as possible so your brother can do his stuff.”
“My brother?” Understanding dawned in her eyes even as she asked the question. She knew what her brother’s fighter-bomber could do. She understood the concept of air support better than most other civilians.
“You’re using the frangibles. Good girl.” He nodded to the gun she’d taken out of her ankle holster.
“Scott’s gun only has three rounds left,” she said quickly. He’d seen the other weapon tucked into her waistband at her back.
They were as ready as they’d ever be. It was time to make a move.
“Commander?” Sam reconnected with Sykes over the phone. “Did you hear all that?”
“I did,” Sykes confirmed. “Parkington’s on station, awaiting the order. As soon as you’re clear, I’ll give him the go.”
“Roger that, sir. Stand by.” Sam clipped the phone to his shirt so he had both hands free.
“I’m going out first,” he told Emily. “I’ll distract them while you climb into the Porsche. If anything happens, I want you to get out of here as fast as possible. Don’t wait for me.”
“But—”
He cut her off. “No arguments, sweetheart. Trust me.” He paused a moment to drop a hard, all too fast kiss on her lips. It wasn’t enough—a lifetime in her arms would never be enough—but it would have to do for now. “Please do as I ask, Em.”
She gave in, her expression conflicted, but she nodded. “Be careful, Sam.” He could tell she wanted to say more. There just wasn’t time.
“Sammy boy, come on out so we can discuss terms.” Sugden shouted across the distance between house and barn.
“This is it,” Sam told Emily. “Be ready to move.”
She nodded, her teeth clenched and jaw tight. She was nervous, but she was a trooper. Cool under pressure, like any good pilot, she’d get the job done. God, how he loved her.
“I’m coming out,” Sam called. “Don’t try anything or I blow this place.”
Sam unclipped the phone and said one last thing to Sykes. “I’m putting the phone on speaker so you can hear what’s going on, sir. Keep it quiet on your end please.”
Sykes agreed and Sam took a step out the door. He kept his phone in his hand as if it were the trigger mechanism he’d claimed it was, knowing Sykes could hear everything more clearly now that he’d switched it to speakerphone function.
“Oh, shit!”
Sam had walked into an ambush. A half dozen zombies gathered around the entrance to the barn, with more behind them. Sugden had been a busy boy. He’d made an army of the undead, hiding them somewhere inside the house, Sam guessed. There was a side door that had been closed before and was now open. The creatures were coming from there.
Sam started firing but he wasn’t going to be able to take all of them out. Not before they reached him. And not before he ran out of ammo.
A piercing whistle broke through the night.
Dammit. Emily hadn’t stayed put like he’d asked. Instead, she’d sidled out of the barn and had used her earsplitting whistle to draw the zombies’ attention. They headed toward her en masse. But Sam wouldn’t stand for that. He kept firing. The report of his handgun split their attention between himself and the new target Emily presented.
Then Emily was next to him, firing at his side. Damn, she was beautiful. But he didn’t want her here. The creatures were too close and she wasn’t immune to their contagion.
“Get in the car and get out of here.”
“Not without you.” She kept firing, even as they held their low voiced conversation. A quick glance upward told him they didn’t have much time.
“I love you, but you’ve got to get out of here now, Em.”