Chapter 9

Jaxon

 

Once again, I had to wait for my meeting with Jax. The team had gone into battle. The outbreak (according to them) was small. There were no casualties. The fight was over in moments. I was actually able to watch from the top of a building as about one hundred zombies strolled into town. For me at least, it was terrifying. Not only the zombies but the casual violence the General was capable of unleashing. One thing was for certain as we sat down and began our discussion, if I ever needed rescued: I would want Jaxon to be the man who did the rescuing.

So, you want me to talk about my last evening of living a normal life?

“Yeah, just start off where Skie left off.”

No problem. I had assured her that I wasn’t going to fight anymore. I had a bad case of the nerves. I’m not sure if it was the fight by the fences or just the aftermath of everything, but the thought of facing zombies again turned my blood cold. Some Guardian I turned out to be.

He made light of his problems with a little laugh, and an uncomfortable shift in his seat, before reaching down to scratch Merrick behind her ears. I was pretty sure he was going to clam up on the subject, but I just wasn’t ready to quit yet.

“Does it make you uncomfortable to discuss what you went through after you left El Paso?”

It does. I know I’m being ridiculous, but I just feel embarrassed about it. Skie was right though. She knows me very well. I can’t stand to be afraid of anything. It won’t be long before I confront whatever it is that’s giving me the nerves.

In this case, I had a little push.

The conversation Skie told you about was right before we went to bed; I was sitting by our bedroom window listening to the rain falling. I like the sound it makes when it hits the metal roof of the cabin. Then again, I’ve always loved the rain. Skie hates it. She’s like some kinda weird solar battery. Give her lots of sun and she smiles, but put out a rain cloud, and she’s liable to be in a mood.

“I think it’s perfectly normal to be afraid after what you went through.”

I had to tell him that. This man should in no way be embarrassed about what he went through, internally, after all the times he risked his life for others. It fell on deaf ears. He simply continued on with his tale, and it wasn’t long before he had me captivated.

I fell asleep thinking about how wrong she was to be worried about me ever endangering myself again. My time was done. Thanks for the fame. Thanks for the good times. I’ll leave you with the bill, but my ass is going home.

I’m guessing it was around two in the morning when I woke up. To this day I have no idea what woke me up, I certainly never felt Skie leave the bed. Something just didn’t feel right. Merrick was still asleep next to me; I could hear her snoring.

Once Skie falls asleep, nothing ever really gets her out of bed until morning, so I went to go see if she was all right. She wasn’t in the bathroom, so I went upstairs to see if she wandered over to the fridge for a late night snack.

She wasn’t upstairs, but across the room, under the light of a soft lamp was a young man sitting in my father’s lazy boy. He was rather wet, so I took it that he had recently just come out of the rain. He had long, tangled black hair that fell to his shoulders. He wore dirty jeans, and black combat boots. He had no shirt on.

I knew who he was of course. At least I had an educated guess. I just didn’t know what the hell he was doing in our living room reading one of my books.

He finally found me worthy of attention, and glanced over at me.

“I realize this must be rather odd meeting me like this,” the young man said. He couldn’t have been over twenty. “I just really felt it important that we meet, and I noticed you weren’t coming back to El Paso, so I came to you. My name is Max.”

I was right about who he was, but I wasn’t really patting myself on the back. I was staring at his face, or actually the left side of his face, around his jaw. There was no skin. His cheek had been torn off, and drool was occasionally dripping down to his chest. It was pretty disgusting.

“Hi Max. Have you by any chance seen my wife?” I asked.

“She’s safe. I can’t exactly tell you where, but I can tell you where she’s going to be. All you have to do is come and get her.”

“Max…I’d rather rip you into pieces then play games.”

“That’s the spirit,” he said. “I was hoping you wouldn’t disappoint me. You know I saw another Guardian once…a long time ago. It was in France. Man, that guy could fight. It took me about a half an hour to convince him to die.”

“What do you want?” I asked. Because to be perfectly honest with you, I had no idea what this freak was after.

“I want to fight you. I want to kill you, and I want Major Crass to know it was me,” Max said casually. “My boys are currently paying him a visit in order to cover that last part by the way.”

“Yeah great, so if I fight you, I’ll get my wife back unharmed?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“Let’s get it over with then.” I said with a snarl in my voice. My adrenaline was pumping overtime. I was prepared to rip this man into pieces for involving my wife into whatever problem he had with me.

“Not yet,” Max said as I took a few steps over to him. “If I killed you now, everyone would think I gave you a great big sucker punch. I certainly don’t want that. I want to kill you fair, and square.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked.

“Revenge,” he answered. “That idiot Crass put me out to pasture, now I’m going to show him what a mistake that was. The second I turned bad, I knew another Guardian would be chosen, and I’d heard Miriam mention that he was more than likely going to come from El Paso. I can’t tell you how difficult it was to cause an outbreak. I mean, once it all got going, all I had to do was sit back and watch, but getting that fucking gypsy off that island was a major pain in the ass. We had to kill a few of those little soldier boys in order to pull that one off.”

“You did all this to get even with Crass?” I asked. I sincerely doubt I kept the astonishment out of my voice.

“Of course I did. I’ve been fighting evil since ‘Nam. All of a sudden Mr. Hardin decides to retire, and a few months later Crass dismantles my entire team. I had a purpose. I had a cause. I had power. Crass left me with nothing.”

I couldn’t believe that this guy actually enjoyed being a Guardian.

“I’ll kill you just to prove that help no longer exists, but I started the outbreak just to show him how useless he was without me. Of course, outbreaks happen all the time, but I needed a big one. One that hits hard and fast…there are only a few places you can go to find that kind of potential.”

“Well, you’re officially a psycho,” I said. “Congratulations on that.”

I rushed him. I’d learned all I needed to know. Now, my plan was to break one of his bones for every second he refused to give me back my wife.

I can’t tell you how shocked I was when he answered my charge with a backhand that I barely even saw. I flew across the room, and through the banister of the bottom floor stairway. I ended up somewhere around the middle of the stairway, flat on my back.

Max strolled over to the edge, and peered down at me.

“Come back to El Paso little Guardian. Your wife will be waiting for you.”

With those words, Max pulled a pistol from the back of his jeans, and shot me four times in the stomach. It hurt like hell. My blood was gushing out all over the stairway.

I looked back towards Max, but he was gone.

I only had a few moments before I bled to death. I fought through the pain, and crawled down the remainder of the stairs. It took way too long; I was getting weaker by the second. I could hear the commotion from upstairs as everyone began to wake up.

I figured someone would come and help me, but then I heard the gunshots coming from outside the cabin. All my friends and family went outside to investigate. By the time they got back, I’d be dead if I didn’t make it to the bathroom.

So, I crawled. Merrick found me, and began to paw at me as I slowly pushed myself forward. I didn’t have enough strength left in me to tell her to stop it.

When I finally reached the tub, I cranked on the water. I didn’t much care about the temperature. I just needed that well water. I mean, any water would do, but well water was probably the best. I almost couldn’t haul my broken body up over the lip of the claw-footed tub, but I did it.

I felt the sting as the water hit the bullet holes. I felt the push as the bullets were expelled from my stomach. It hurt almost as bad as the gunshot itself. Slowly, my body knit itself back together.

It took about an hour.

Of course, everyone eventually found me. They just happened to find me in my boxers, lying in a tub full of blood.

One thing great about the way my body heals. When it’s over, it’s over. There isn’t any weakness or pain left. When the healing is done, I’m as good as new.

I heard from everyone, that our bodyguards were all dead. I informed them about what happened to Skie, and my encounter with her abductor while I was healing.

Then I was finished.

I practically leapt out of the tub, and dashed into my bedroom. I dressed quickly in jeans and a t-shirt, while yelling at everyone else to do the same.

I grabbed my tomahawk, and stood in front of the mirror while everyone went about getting dressed. I studied the edge of its blade. I ran my finger along that edge, and looked at myself in the mirror.

I was going back into Hell.

Georgie, Kingsley, Dudley, Javie, Merrick, and I were ready in less than five minutes. When we reached the front door, Miriam was waiting.

“I came as soon as I heard about the attack on Crass’s outpost,” she said. “What’s your plan?”

“I’m going back into El Paso after my wife.”

“I’ll take you to the outpost, so you can get some weapons,” she answered.

“Then move,” I told her.

A hug from my mom and dad, and we were driving through the nighttime streets at a furious pace. For an old lady, Miriam was a freaking mad person behind the wheel. She got us to the airport in less than five minutes. Of course, the airport isn’t far at all from the cabin.

There was a Blackhawk helicopter waiting there for us.

In another few moments we were airborne. I can’t even begin to describe the rage that was coursing through my veins as I waited to reach our destination. My anger was a palpable presence in the chopper. Nobody said a word.

Dudley was looking out the window. Kingsley was looking down at his hands, Georgie was cleaning a pistol (it wasn’t easy for him to get away from his wife by the way, but he refused to let her convince him to stay behind), and Javie was looking right at me. I could see the worry on his face.

“You really don’t have to come with us Javie,” I said to him.

“Yes I do,” he answered back. No jokes, no nothing.

We landed in the parking lot of a burnt down Motel 6. Soldiers were everywhere. Stretchers, and bodies, and ambulances were carrying the dead and wounded away from the destruction. I’m not sure that the word “destruction” can even accurately describe how bad this place was. Max’s boys really leveled the place.

“How many men does Max have?” I asked Miriam.

“He has four, just like you,” she answered. “Guardians always have four lieutenants, not counting animals.”

“Does he have any animals?”

“No, you’re the first Guardian in centuries to have an animal that’s been touched by the power.”

After that, we were off running towards the rear of the motel towards some bunkers that had been (from what I could tell) erected rather recently. We entered one of them and were greeted by about five soldiers with M16’s aimed at our chests.

“The Major would like a word with Jaxon,” one of the soldiers said.

Georgie and I were disarmed (we were the only ones with weapons) and then all of us were led to a small office building down the road. Apparently, Crass had taken over this place as well. There were soldiers and military vehicles everywhere.

As I was being led to Crass, I had that feeling you get when you know things are going to go bad. I was still keeping quiet, just waiting for the other shoe to drop. What happened now was going to be entirely up to Crass.

“Obviously, you thought he was going to stop you from going into El Paso. What were you going to do if he did?”

Well, at that point I had no idea. I was just going with the flow, but I can admit that I was seeing everything through a veil of red that began to cover my eyes when Skie was taken, and was now turning about a hundred shades darker from being delayed.

I was going to rescue my wife and kill the bastard that took her…end of story.

Soldiers everywhere were staring at me. Some of them even gave me the ‘General salute’, but whenever a soldier did that, another soldier told them to stop. Things were not going to turn out well at all.

Everyone was told to stay in the waiting area, while I was led to Crass’s office. He was waiting there for me, with a smug smile on his face.

“Don’t bother sitting down,” Crass said. “You won’t be here that long.”

“I need to get back into El Paso,” I answered.

“You really screwed up this time,” Crass said. “You should have stayed off my radar. I was after you from the beginning. I hate your type. You have no respect for those of us that have earned our power. You just come in swinging, and defy us at every opportunity. I was actually hoping you’d die back there at the fence, but your bitch of a wife…well; let’s just say that I’ve now been relieved of this command. I’ve been in charge of it for the last three years, I was about to become classified and now…”

“I need to get back into El Paso,” I repeated. I didn’t give a shit about his life, or what he thought of me at the moment, however…when he referred to Skie as a ‘bitch’, I almost snapped.

“That’s really too bad for you. You see: Mr. Hardin is on his way here. He’s been located, and he’s going back on the active status. The old man is actually taking my job. However, in the meantime, I’m still holding down the fort so to speak. And since I’m still currently in charge, I’m shipping you out to one of our less reputable prisons. I have no doubts that Hardin will release you as soon as he finds out, but arranging for your release will eat up a whole lot of time, time that should have been spent on rescuing your wife.

“I need to get back into El Paso.”

“You need to take your medicine boy,” he answered.

I snapped. I admit it freely. What was I prepared to do if Crass delayed me? Well, I was prepared to kill him, and everyone else that stood in my way.

My wife is special to me. There is nobody on the face of this earth that reserves the right to keep me away from her.

I grabbed Crass’s borrowed office desk, and through it across the room. It made a Hell of a noise. The thing was huge. After that, I grabbed his neck, and lifted him up from his leather chair. I slammed him against the wall hard enough to crack the plaster. My face was very close to his, and I could finally see the fear creep into his eyes.

Crass had crossed the line with me more than once. He was lucky I was busy trying to save lives the first time, and he was even luckier the second time when I was in a funk, and he threatened to have me arrested.

Now, I was all me.

I worked him over a bit. He really didn’t enjoy meeting the walls with his face, but he certainly deserved it. I was surprised that the wall gave out before he did, and suddenly we were standing in the waiting area with the rest of the gang.

Georgie tried to stop me; he went sailing across the room. I didn’t actually shove him, I just never stopped going after Crass after I threw him through the wall. Miriam said something, but I’m not sure what it was or who it was to.

I heard a group of soldiers running towards me. One of them had my tomahawk. I picked up Crass’s limp form, and threw him at the soldiers, and then I was on them as well.

We ended up in the hallway leading to the office when everything was over. The white walls had quite a bit of blood on them. There were ten soldiers in all. They lasted less than a minute against me. I didn’t kill any of them, but I wasn’t completely against such an action if that was what I had to do to rescue my wife.

“Let’s move,” I shouted to my friends. “Doesn’t look like Crass wants to help, and now we’re gonna have to fight our way in.”

They all just stared at me.

I heard the footsteps before I actually saw the next group of soldiers. Bad luck for them, I had my tomahawk back in my hand.

They rounded the corner of the hallway, and came to an abrupt stop. The hallway was dusty with all the broken and cracked walls, and I was standing in the middle crouched low and ready to lunge when a voice came out from behind me.

“Stop,” the voice said, and believe it or not, all the soldiers stopped dead in their tracks.

I chanced a glance at the owner of the voice, and saw a man in his mid fifties. He wasn’t wearing a military uniform; he was dressed in jeans and a black, long sleeve button-down shirt.

“You must be the man I’m looking for,” he said.

“Bad luck for you then,” I replied.

“Not at all son,” he said. “Looks like I got here just in time. I’m Mr. Hardin.”

I sized him up, and relaxed just a little bit as he dismissed the soldiers, and sent them out to find a medic for all the injured men lying around. My group was crowding around Mr. Hardin. It looked like they had finally got in the game, and were wondering whether or not to jump him.

“Hello Miriam,” Mr. Hardin said when he finally noticed her standing there in the background. “You’re looking well. I guess I should have kept in better touch with you.”

“You’re here now,” Miriam answered. “That’s what matters. These ravens are ready to fly.”

“Well, follow me then. Let’s have a brief chat, and see what we can do.”

All of us followed Mr. Hardin into an even bigger office with plenty of seats. I didn’t sit down. I was ready to go. Patience has never been one of my strong suits.

“First of all,” Mr. Hardin said as he sat down at the office desk. “I’d like to apologize. I really take full responsibility for everything that’s happened. I should never have retired. Max has always been unstable, and I’ve been the only one that can control him. I’ve been doing this for about eighty years or so, and figured it was time I gave myself a break. Enjoy life, have some fun, take a break from fighting evil. There hadn’t been anything major happening in a few years, so I chose Major Crass as my successor, and hit the high road.”

“You chose that asshole?” I asked. I couldn’t believe someone would choose Crass for anything. He’d be the last guy that I’d pick in a game of dodge ball.

“Unfortunately I did. I had no idea that he was harboring resentments towards Max. It’s actually his dismissal of Max that led to all of this. Crass thought he could handle anything that came along without the help of a Guardian. Max showed him just how wrong he was.”

“I’ve heard that much already from Max when he kidnapped my wife,” I said. “And by the way, how in the hell have you been doing this for eighty years?”

“Miriam,” Mr. Hardin said with a shocked look on his face. “Haven’t you explained anything to him?”

“Not really,” she answered. “He doesn’t seem to like to listen.”

“If you’re gonna start chatting, make it quick,” I said. “I’m low on patience at the moment, and my wife needs me.”

Miriam went on for a while, and I finally listened. She told me about the secret history of the Guardians, and how there has always been a Guardian around since the dawn of man. She told me that nature can heal my wounds. She explained how my friends are also more durable, and can also be healed by natural elements. Finally, she explained that I, and those around me basically no longer aged, and we’d all stay our current age until I was killed.

There were a lot of things that she didn’t know, like the whole ‘why?’ of everything. Why were there Guardians? How are we chosen? Who does the choosing? Why are my friends involved? Why are there five of us (six including Merrick)? And why are others infected with a lack of aging?

She touched on the scarier things, like zombies aren’t the only things out there that people need saving from. I won’t go into it now. No reason to make people nervous until they need to be nervous.

All in all, it was rather interesting. At the moment however, I planned on going after my wife. I could always ask questions about this stuff later, but she needed me now. This is where Mr. Hardin came in.

“There’s a secret military island near Hawaii,” he said. “It’s where we keep the unfortunate souls that have been cursed. It’s a small island, never really gets noticed by anyone, and it houses around forty civilians and twenty soldiers.”

“What are they cursed with?” I asked.

“They make zombies,” Mr. Hardin answered. “They don’t do it on purpose, it’s not their fault, but whenever someone in a close enough radius dies around them, that same someone will rise up as a zombie. It’s real horror movie stuff. In earlier days, they actually tried to kill these cursed people only to find that the curse would travel down their family tree, and attach itself to one of their relatives.”

“This is what Max meant when he started babbling about getting some gypsy off an island.” I said.

“Exactly,” Mr. Hardin answered. “He waited for the right moment and attacked. He took a young woman named Clara, brought her to El Paso, and basically waited for the curse to take effect. It worked in about twenty-four hours. Even caused an outbreak on the island after they shot up two soldiers, but we had that under control almost immediately.”

“Max must really hate Crass to being causing all these problems.” I said, basically because I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Crass took away his purpose in life,” Mr. Hardin answered. “Max took it very hard; it drove him over the edge you might say. From what I’ve learned so far, Major Crass seems to have developed some problems with Max. Actually, it seems that he has an incredibly difficult time dealing with anyone unwilling to follow his every whim and wish. Power can rot a man to the core. Crass has been rotted, and he was ill equipped to deal with the supernatural side of life without Max around, which is exactly what Max set out to prove. Regardless, Major Crass will be dealt with legally after he gets out of the hospital. Unfortunately for you, yours, and everybody in El Paso, you just happened to get caught in the middle of all their drama.”

“Crass seems to have a more personal problem with me than just being unlucky enough to get caught in the middle of him and Max.”

“Well,” Mr. Hardin replied. “You are the new Guardian. He’d rather have handled things without one. I understand that he may have even hired some mercenaries in an attempt to destroy the city against orders. Regardless, he was unable to, and as a result we have our current situation in El Paso. You were destined to be the next man to come in and take away his power. From what I’ve been briefed on, you were already stealing most of his thunder while you were still in the damn city, but all that’s over now son. Let’s get to the part where we save lives.”

“First, let’s talk about saving one life in particular. I want my fucking wife back.”

“You’re putting me in an awkward situation here Jax,” Mr. Hardin said.

Oh boy…I knew this guy was too good to be true. I’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I had no interest whatsoever in whatever he was going to say.

“If you plan on telling me some sort of reason as to why I can’t go to my wife,” I interrupted. “Please understand that I’m going to beat the living shit out of you just like I did to Crass. I’d also like you to understand that I’m prepared to break anything that stands in my way.”

Mr. Hardin didn’t look the least bit shocked.

“Well, of course you are,” he said. “That’s what the problem is. If I try to stop you, you’ll attack me, and everyone else that gets in your way. If, on the off chance, we can stop you, all that will do is result in the death of your wife, and give me another Guardian as an enemy.”

“What’s the problem then?” I asked impatiently.

“The problem is…Max is going to kill you.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Of course you will. What you don’t understand is that Max has been around for a long, long time—probably longer than any other Guardian—and in that time, his sole purpose in life was fighting. He’s more powerful than you, and he’s got a hell of a lot more experience than you. I don’t see how you’re going to beat him.”

“Well, he’s obviously lost before,” I answered. “Just look at his face.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but that happened to him in the war before he became a Guardian. It might be one of the reasons he’s so unbalanced. That wound will never heal.”

“Once again,” I replied. “I’ll take my chances.”

“And I’m not going to stop you,” Mr. Hardin said. “But have you thought about how you’re going to find him? Crass was hoping to do exactly that, and it didn’t work out too well for him. Hell, if Crass could have managed to locate him, he wouldn’t even be a problem anymore. Crass would have just dropped a few bombs on his head, but being smack dab in the middle of zombie territory has given Max a pretty decent hiding place, which probably explains the mercenaries, if you can’t find the needle in the haystack…destroy the haystack.”

“What about the Gypsy?” I asked.

“Clara,” Miriam corrected.

“Yeah,” I said. “Won’t Max be somewhere close to her?”

“Most certainly,” Miriam answered. “He’d keep her pretty close to make sure he doesn’t lose her. It’s part of his revenge. Anywhere he takes her, she’ll cause another outbreak the minute someone dies. He could effectively destroy the entire country if he wanted to, but nobody knows exactly what his plans are after he’s ruined Crass.”

“He’s at the Abraham Chavez Theater,” I said. “I’ve seen Clara chained on the steps.”

“You can’t be serious?” Mr. Hardin asked.

“Will the zombies attack Clara?” I asked.

“No,” Miriam answered. “The cursed ones are never attacked by the undead.”

“Then Max is at the Abraham Chavez Theater,” I said.

Mr. Hardin immediately spoke into the phone, and a few seconds later a nerdy little soldier guy came running into the office. Mr. Hardin told him that he wanted schematics on the Abraham Chavez Theater brought into the war room immediately.

“Well, we have a location now,” Mr. Hardin said once the nerd had left. “Do you have a plan?”

“I never really have a plan. I just kinda go with the flow, and hope for the best,” I answered.

“I wish I could change your mind about this,” Mr. Hardin said. “I don’t see how you can beat him. He’s just too good at killing.”

“How about his buddies, how good are they at killing?”

“They’re incredible at it,” Miriam answered. “However, Max has apparently done some experimenting with them in the last few years. We’ll probably never know why he’s done what he’s done to them. Maybe they weren’t keen on following him anymore? Anyway, whatever he’s done to them…Let’s just say they aren’t exactly operating on all four cylinders.”

“So they’re stupid?” Dudley asked. Everyone kind of chuckled at that.

“They can follow orders from Max to the letter,” Miriam answered. “But yes, they’re rather stupid now.”

“Well at least we’ll have an easy time,” Dudley replied. “Jax is fucked, but we’ll make it through a bunch of morons rather easily.”

“Once the fight is on, and they’re coming after you,” Mr. Hardin said. “Whoever has the bigger IQ won’t make much of a difference I can assure you. His men are excellent warriors. Just look at what the four of them did to Crass’s complex up the street.”

“How were you feeling with all that you had just learned?”

Well, I wasn’t happy with the way things were, that’s for sure. It didn’t make much of a difference though, I needed to kill Max in order to save my wife, and that’s what I was going to do.

“What about the gypsy girl…I forget her name? Did you have any plans for her?”

Not really, I mean…we certainly didn’t want her dead. That would just spread the curse to one of her relatives somewhere, and this entire outbreak of zombies would start all over again somewhere else.

“What happened next?”

Ah, we went to the war room. This is where Mr. Hardin actually became an asset. The first thing he did was hand out ‘bite suits’. These things are probably the greatest invention ever. A zombie can’t bite through them. They’re somewhere between a green and grey color, and they feel rough and light, like a soldiers normal uniform. If you look at the texture though, they are actually made of these little millimeter sized squares all bunched together. It’s weird.

We all pulled on the fatigue pants and shirts with this strange material, along with combat boots, utility belts, and a thick utility vest with a wide, high collar that came almost to our chins. These vests were also very light, and the collars would keep our necks protected. All of us but Georgie turned down the helmets.

Next, we got a look at the weapons. This was my favorite part, since I had lost everything but my tomahawk. I still have the tomahawk by the way, I mean; I passed by a row of new high tech tomahawks, but for some reason I stayed with my old faithful. I did however find a couple of neat clips to hold it to the back of my belt in a horizontal placement. I also found another SOG Seal Pup knife, and went for that immediately. Miriam surprised me at that point, by handing me my old sheath complete with my Swiss Army Knife still in the front pocket. That went on my left hip, complete with the brand new knife.

I picked a silenced Glock to go on my right hand thigh. In fact, except for Kingsley, we all chose silenced weapons. I didn’t grab any rifles, I saw another .30-30, but decided against the noise it would make. Georgie grabbed a silenced .50 caliber sniper rifle, and Kingsley chose a sawed-off shotgun just in case.

I spent way too much time trying to replace the folder knife I had lost, but eventually found a Cold Steel Ti-Lite. It’s a fighting folder with a four-inch blade, and just looks like it was made to cause damage in a fight. I loved it immediately. To this day I carry one as my backup’s backup.

“Can I see it?”

Immediately, the General pulled a knife from his pocket. The quills that formed a cross guard between the handle and the blade snagged on the pocket as it was being removed, and flicked out the blade. The motion happened all too fast. It was then that I realized that was the point. Jaxon leads a violent life. His weapons are chosen with deadliness, and survival in mind.

As we walked to the helicopter, Mr. Hardin was still complaining about us not being ready. He was complaining about how we were headed for trouble. Obviously, we ignored him. He wasn’t happy about letting us go, but he never once tried to stop us. He basically said that his job was to make sure we succeeded in our goals, and came back alive. It wasn’t his job to stand in our way.

I was beginning to like that man, but I wasn’t sad to leave him behind since he was acting like such a negative Nancy.

We were in a nice black chopper this time. It made very little noise, and had none of those running lights. We had all grabbed these little radio ear pieces so we could talk to one another if we split up after the chopper. We could also speak with headquarters as well. They were small, and looped over our ears, so they didn’t annoy me.

Everyone was arguing about where to land and what to do. I was trying my level best to ignore them all as I tried on a pair of half-fingered leather gloves that I found inside the chopper. One thing about doing what I do…I get the coolest stuff for free.

Suddenly it occurred to me.

It came as I was thinking about all the free stuff I had just received. Immediately, I tapped my earpiece to turn it on.

“Mr. Hardin,” I asked. “Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you perfectly Jaxon,” he answered almost immediately. “What’s up?”

“Is Max familiar with these bite suits?”

“Certainly, both he and his men have used them regularly for the last ten years.”

“How many do you have on hand?”

“I think there’s about twenty left,” Mr. Hardin answered.

“Turn around and go back,” I told the pilot.

It took less than five minutes to return to base, pick up the suits, and get back into the air. The ride was quick; everyone was waiting for an explanation. I ignored them and enjoyed the quiet. Suddenly, we were over the Abraham Chavez Theater. I told the pilot to take us five streets away, and land on top of the biggest building he could find.

I made Georgie and Javie carry the suits as we left the chopper. I grabbed some repelling rope, and so did Dudley.

“Did you repel out of the chopper?”

No, I just wanted the rope.

The sun was coming out as we looked over the edge of the roof, and the morning air was rather cool. The building was only two stories high, and we’d already attracted attention. The zombies had apparently managed to find their way back Downtown. Then again, I’m not exactly sure if it was the same group of zombies that we led away from Downtown, or an entirely new group, but regardless, there were hundreds of them screaming up at us from the street.

“Why’d we land so far away from the Abraham Chavez Theater?” Georgie complained.

“I thought it might be a good idea to keep Max from knowing exactly when we’re coming if that’s okay with you?” I replied.

Everyone had a nervous little chuckle at Georgie’s expense and we were off.

It was easy enough to shoot out the lock on the door leading into the building. It was more difficult to find our way to the first floor. The building was a maze of offices. It took about fifteen minutes. I began to curse up a storm. Georgie began to complain loudly about carrying the bite suits. The helmets were clanking around together in his arms. If I hadn’t been so worried about my wife, I’d have been laughing my ass off.

Finally, we were out of the building, and shooting at all the zombies that were in the alleyway that we’d just left. I’d chosen the clearest side, but when you’re dealing with that many zombies…well, no side is exactly going to be easy going.

It took awhile, but we made it into the next building, through the following building, and across the street. It was a mad sprint down the road, and to the left a few more blocks. Suddenly we were inside a small, shabby, building that was facing the Abraham Chavez Theater.

Outside of the building, the zombies that were able to follow us were banging to get in but we had sealed up our entrance tightly, and they weren’t having any luck. There were even more of them now than when we first landed. This was actually a good thing for once. I was going to need those zombies…or at least some of them.

“Jax,” Georgie said. “What are we going to do if they get in here?”

“You mean what are you going to do?” I answered. “We aren’t going to be here. Now get your ass on the roof.”

The building wasn’t that big. If I remember correctly, it was only three or four stories. I put Georgie on the roof, and told him to shoot anything that needed shot. Then, I went back down to the others who were waiting on the next floor down. We spread out the schematic of the building, and took a look at where all the security cameras were located.

It took a long time, but we finally figured a route that would get us where I wanted to go.

“But Jax,” Dudley said as he pointed to our destination on the schematic. “If we head there, we’ll be trapped. If we move around the corner, the next camera will catch us.”

“That’s fine,” I answered. “We’re not going to that next corner; we’re going up on the roof.”

“Ah,” Kingsley said. “That’s why we brought the rope.”

“Part of the reason,” I answered. “Go ahead and attach the grappling hooks to the ends of the ropes, after that, it’s going to be your job to carry them. Javie, it’s your job to carry all the bite suits since Georgie is staying here.”

Kingsley wasn’t happy and grumbled something under his breath. Javie made a funny gesture to complain about carrying the suits, but it wasn’t really serious.

“All right, on our way over there, only use the silenced pistols. No shotgun, Kingsley. When we get to our target area, start throwing the grappling hook up to the roof, as soon as the hook is secure, start climbing. Can you climb with all those suits Javie?”

“It’s kinda heavy,” he answered.

“No problem, we’ll help pull you up. Just don’t drop the suits.”

Just like that, we were fighting through all the zombies gathering at our building, and heading towards the theater. We approached the building from the side, in an effort to avoid the cameras. When we were close enough, I saw that the cameras were indeed moving. That was a good thing. I wanted Max’s men to be watching out for our approach.

The bad part of the run was how much ammunition we wasted just getting there. The zombies were everywhere. The stink of them filled my nostrils and my pistol was all too soon emptied. My tomahawk came out immediately, and I started having flashbacks of the fence as I hacked our way to our destination.

The very thought of ever having to confront more zombies had filled me with dread from the moment I was safe at my parents cabin right up until I met them on the street at that very moment. The second I began killing them, it once again became sort of like second nature to me. My nerves were gone. I was vaguely aware of how odd that was, but didn’t have the time needed to think about it. In retrospect, I think it had something to do with confronting that which was terrifying me. I think Skie was right when she said I was the type of man that needed to face his fears head on.

Anyway, enough of that, the point is, I was back to being me.

As soon as Georgie had a clear view of our progress, he started shooting. He had a lot of ammunition, so I wasn’t worried about him running out. Dudley and I ended up taking out all the zombies in our way, and Georgie took out all the ones that came too close to our flanks.

I can’t tell you what a beautiful sight it is to see when a bullet from a .50 caliber sniper rifle meets a zombie. It looks like a bursting water balloon that someone filled with red liquid. I loved it. Sometimes, he even took out three or four zombies with one shot.

With Dudley and me in the front, and Kingsley and Javie bringing up the rear with the suits and rope, we made it to our target area in less than three minutes. Kingsley was gasping for air. He’s a smoker unfortunately, and I was worried about whether or not he could make the climb to the top of the building.

The Abraham Chaves Theater, from where we were approaching, has a large dome kinda thing, and I wanted to be on top of it. You know how all those modern theaters tend to have those odd designs that would be ugly as hell on a normal building, but end up looking kinda cool on a theater?

“Yes, I get what you’re saying.”

Well, I’m guessing it’s about three stories high. Quite a throw for the grappling hooks, but I was confident I could do it. The trouble would be getting there.

“Wait a minute…before you go any further, I have a question.”

What’s that?

“What happened to Merrick?”

Oh yeah, I left her with my parents. It was going to be awhile before more security details were going to arrive. Miriam had told me that it could take up to an hour, not long, but long enough that I wasn’t going to leave family alone without some protection. My dad went and loaded his gun, and I left Merrick to play watchdog. She didn’t like it, of course; she hates being left behind, but she really makes a great watchdog.

So anyway, we zigged and we zagged all through the front of the theater. There were steps, low walls, and patios everywhere. We kept low when we had to, but my worry was that we’d meet too much opposition from the zombies before we could arrive at our hidden wall.

I was finally able to pop another magazine into my Glock. That made things easier, but as I looked over the low wall we were all crouched behind, I saw what looked like thousands of zombies headed down a side street towards our destination. They hadn’t seen us yet, so they weren’t running. They were probably responding to the screams of their comrades, and possibly our smells.

Wow, and I mean wow. We really had to make it to our destination before they figured out where we were.

Finally, we reached a spot where we had to sprint the rest of the way, because once we left the shelter of the staircase we were using for cover, we’d all be in plain sight—and the horde would charge.

Dudley tapped me softly on the shoulder as I drilled a zombie in the head with my pistol. I turned to look where he was pointing, and saw the sad pretty girl in the dress. She was still chained to the ground, but this time she was sitting. She didn’t look very well at all, but she was watching us with a very still face. Like she was curious about what we were doing, but too tired to do anything but watch.

Dudley went to toss her his water bottle, but I grabbed his hand, and pointed to a camera that was facing her. It would alert whoever was watching those cameras to our presence if their captive gypsy girl was suddenly drinking out of a water bottle she shouldn’t have.

I reached out towards Kingsley, and he handed me my grappling rope. I nodded to everyone; we watched as Georgie took out a group of zombies coming from behind, and then we bolted towards our destination.

I moved so fast, I had to put out my hand to stop myself from colliding with the wall. I threw my grappling hook and missed. The second time, it hooked solid. Dudley was successful as well, but Kingsley and Javie were having trouble. The pounding feet of the rushing, screaming, and advancing, horde of zombies was making the ground shake. They saw us just as quickly as I thought they would. My adrenaline kicked into overdrive as I grabbed the ropes from both of them and started throwing. I caught Kingsley’s immediately, but I had to calm myself down before I was able to get Javie’s hook to stick.

I snapped at Dudley to get his ass up the wall as I tied the end of Javie’s rope around his waist, and told him not to drop the suits.

I scrambled up my own rope, and made it to the top of the theater in just a few seconds. Dudley was right behind me. Kingsley was trying, but he kept slipping down the wall. The guy was exhausted. Here’s a little tip for all would be zombie fighters…don’t smoke. I told Dudley to help him, and I began to pull Javie up the wall.

Javie did his best to climb with his feet, but his hands were too full to offer much help. The zombies hit the wall with a loud thud. Javie and Kingsley were only inches away from death when the wall vibrated with the force of their impact.

A few moments later, and all of us were safe on the roof of the Abraham Chavez Theater.

We took a few moments for everyone to calm down, and get their strength back. We didn’t have to worry about cameras on the roof, because they were all pointed downwards, so we were able to walk around as we pleased. I actually encouraged this, because I wanted as many zombies as we could get to gather on the ground below us.

I ordered Kingsley to start making nooses out of our ropes. I rummaged through Dudley’s backpack until I found his duct tape, and waited until Kingsley had all the ropes finished.

“All right,” Dudley said. “What the hell are you planning?”

“I’m planning on taking out Max’s men,” I answered. “He messed with them somehow, and now they’re kind of stupid right?”

“Yeah,” Dudley answered.

“Well, I’m going to use that against them. Max is expecting us to try and sneak in obviously, so he has a man in the control room watching the camera monitors. I’m guessing that the other three are located at the not so obvious entrances. Don’t count the front entrance or the rear entrance…those are too obvious. I’m talking about the one in the parking garage, the one on the side of the building for deliveries, and the one on the other side of the building.”

“Sounds feasible,” Dudley said.

“Well, I’ll repel to the control room, and take out that guy. Then, we’ll release some captured zombies wearing bite suits wherever his other men are, to distract them. My guess is that because they’re so stupid, Max gave them simple orders like ‘take them out when you see them’. When they go after the zombies, you guys can come up behind them.”

“Won’t we have to deal with all the zombies afterwards?” Kingsley asked.

“No,” I answered. “Just shoot Max’s man, and then relock the door.”

“Did they agree to your plan?”

They agreed to it, but they didn’t really like it. I have to admit, it was a little off the wall, and it certainly wasn’t going to be any fun catching all those zombies, and dressing them up like us.

“But you wanted Max’s men to think you were coming in through those entrances correct?”

Exactly, let them chase after some zombies in our clothes while we come up from behind.

So, off we went to the side of the building with our nooses. We selected the best zombies we could find. By the best, I mean that we selected the least decayed of the zombies we could find. This wasn’t easy. Most of the zombies that were gathering had been dead a pretty long time. Add the blaring sun, and the sudden rain showers that they’d been living in, and the crop of zombies to choose from was pretty gross.

When we had a zombie selected, we’d just drop a noose till it settled over its head, and pull it up by the neck. It was rather easy. They just stood around at the bottom of the building reaching up for us and screaming. They barely even noticed the noose ‘til they were yanked off their feet.

Once we had them on the roof, we taped up their mouths, cut off their clothes, and put them in bite suits. After that, we taped their hands behind their backs, and tapped their legs together. Then, we’d go after the next one.

We stopped when we had fifteen zombies taped up, and dressed like us. On a plus side, we also received proof positive that the bite suits actually worked. One of the zombies managed to take a quick snap at Javie as we were taping it up. Scared the hell out of him, and he said it pinched like a mother trucker, but no blood was drawn.

Everything was now ready. It was my turn. I was just hoping that Max wasn’t in the control room with his pal. That could put a serious damper on my plan.

“Did you have a backup plan if he was in there?”

I was gonna spray as many bullets through the window as possible. I doubt that would be enough to keep him down long, but hopefully it’d keep him down long enough for me to bury my tomahawk in his head.

I took one last look at the schematics, but I already knew where I had to go for the control room. The guys were waiting for me by the taped up zombies as I scrambled across the roof towards the edge over the control room window.

I found a nice pipe to tie the rope on, and began climbing down. When I was beside the window, I took a peek inside.

It was the wrong damn window.

I cursed, and growled, and made my way back to the roof. I then ran back to the guys, and told them the problem. We once again all looked at the schematic. I was definitely at the right window, but for some reason the control room must have moved.

“Mr. Hardin,” I asked after a quick tap to my earpiece. “You there?”

“I’m already on it,” Mr. Hardin answered.

“How do you even know what’s going on?” Kingsley asked.

“I can hear everything with your earpieces,” Mr. Hardin answered. “There’s also a camera in each earpiece, so I can see everything as well.”

We all kinda stared at each other’s ears for a while looking for the camera like a bunch of morons. It was Javie that finally found the little dot the size of a pen cap.

“Jaxon,” Mr. Hardin said. “It seems that the schematics you have are a few years outdated. The control room has been moved to the third floor. Unfortunately, there are no windows to that room.”

“Well that’s fucking great isn’t it?” I demanded to no one in particular.

We sat around for a little bit wondering what to do. I really didn’t want to lead my friends into a gunfight with experienced killers. Somehow, I just didn’t think those odds were going to turn out in our favor.

I finally sat back against a large air duct made of flimsy metal. It made a slight indentation when I put my weight on it. When I took my weight back off, it popped back into the right position with a soft ‘bonk’ noise…I had a plan…hopefully.

“Hardin,” I said after another tap on the earpiece. “Do the air ducts lead to the control room?”

“I’m checking right now.”

It took some time, but Hardin finally came back with the good news. The air ducts did indeed lead to the control room. In fact, they led directly over the control room, and they were big enough for me to fit in.

I pulled my Swiss Army Knife out of my sheath, and started unscrewing the screws around the duct opening. It was going to be a tight fit but I was determined to make it work.

“Do you think they know we’re here?” Dudley asked suddenly as he peered over the edge of the roof at all the zombies.

“How could they know?” Kingsley answered.

“They know,” I answered. “There are too many zombies around the building now. They’re just waiting for us to make a move.”

Kingsley threw his arms up in disgust. His nerves were getting the better of him. The situation was pretty freaking tense.

I grabbed a small flashlight, and squeezed into the air duct. It didn’t take long to squirm my way to the control room. Mr. Hardin was giving me directions through the earpiece the entire time. The only difficult part was keeping the noise I was making in the flimsy metal tunnel as low as possible.

As I neared the vent that Mr. Hardin said would drop down into the control room, I turned off the flashlight, and inched myself slowly closer to the opening. I peered down into the room, and was shocked to discover there were four men in the room.

Three of these men stood with their backs to the wall with a vacant look in their eyes. The final man was seated before a computer terminal with five different monitors. I could only see the back of his head from my position, but his head was moving back and forth in a robotic fashion as he searched through the cameras in an attempt to locate us.

He was clearly agitated, because he was flipping through different images rapidly. He concentrated on the areas that had the largest concentrations of zombies. The dipshits weren’t smart enough to even think about us being safe and sound on the roof.

Then I got a look at Max’s handiwork. Each of his four men had their heads shaved. There were metal plates attached in places that should have had skin over skull. Whatever else he’d done to them, he obviously played around with their brains. Worst of all were their faces. Their jaws were all clamped shut with metal brackets that ran in and out of raw and infected holes in their cheeks.

I tried to scoot back so they wouldn’t hear me when I radioed back to my friends, and the stupid air duct made a loud pop that echoed in my ears.

I immediately froze.

Then I began to panic. There was no way they didn’t hear the noise. I expected them to start spraying bullets through the ceiling, but nothing happened. I waited, and waited, and still nothing happened. Finally, I crawled back towards the vent and took a peek. None of them had moved.

I thought about it for a second, and then lightly tapped the inside of the air duct. Still no response, so I hit the wall of the air duct harder. They never moved. Whatever Max had done to them, they ended up deaf.

“Jaxon,” Mr. Hardin asked. “What are you doing?”

“Relax,” I answered somewhat confidently. “These guys are deaf.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am now, because I’m sitting here talking to you in my outdoor voice,” I answered. “Can the rest of you guys hear me?”

They all spoke up into the earpieces that they could indeed hear me.

“All right, I was wrong about these guys being at the entrances. They’re all right here in the control room waiting to be sent out. So, take five of the zombies, cut their tape, release them at the delivery entrance, and let’s see what happens.”

They radioed back that they understood, and were doing what I asked. So, I waited about half an hour, and watched the monitors over the man at the computer terminals shoulder. Eventually, he found the zombies in our clothes. They were being dropped off the roof.

At that my moment, as I watched the last two zombies free fall to the cement, slowly pick themselves off the ground, and limp around looking for something to bite, I began to truly believe that my plan sucked big time. This was so unbelievable it was almost laughable. Nobody would face plant on the cement in order to gain access to a building. Nobody could survive a landing like that.

The most amazing thing was that these guys were so dumb the plan actually worked. The guy at the computer reacted immediately. As soon as he saw our decoys, his fist shot up into the air. One of the other guys approached him, and after a few signals, he ran out of the room. The guy at the computer never even acknowledged that our decoys were dropping out of the sky, and landing on their faces.

“We’re good,” I radioed to everyone. “The retards took the bait. Get the next group ready to drop by the parking garage entrance. It might take them a while to wander in front of a camera, and make it quicker this time. I want this done in five minutes not thirty.”

I heard the grumbles over the radio but I just ignored them. I wanted all the pieces in place, before we took action.

The second they told me that the zombies had entered the parking garage I had them drop the remaining group of five off by the side entrance, and I sat (or rather, lay) back and waited.

The side entrance zombies were the next to be discovered. I saw it on the computer screen a split second before the control room fellow did. He raised his hand, he was approached by Max’s thug, they went through a series of hand gestures, and the thug was off and running towards the side entrance.

I wanted to make sure that all of Max’s men were in the places I wanted them to be before I sent in my guys. I didn’t want them to run into one another in a hallway. I wasn’t sure that would end up being a situation my guys could win. Dumb or not, these guys took out Crass’s headquarters. Shooting them in the back would certainly be the safest way to finish this.

I was really becoming impatient as I waited for the zombies in the parking garage to be seen on the cameras. It seemed like it was taking forever. Not good. I debated taking out my pistol and trying to take out the remaining thugs, but in the close confines of the air duct I couldn’t reach my hand down to the weapon.

“Then how did you expect to shoot the remaining man if you couldn’t reach your pistol?”

To be perfectly honest, I hadn’t thought about that one yet. I was too concerned with getting the others in position.

Finally, one of our zombies crossed in front of a camera in the parking garage, and the remaining thug was sent out. I was alone with the remaining man. I waited around five minutes before I sent out my friends to go deal with Max’s thugs, and I could hear them break through the door on the roof from where I was in the air duct. I was nervous about Max hearing the noise, but there wasn’t much I could do about that at the moment.

I debated through more than a few ways of taking out the computer guy, but in the end I just smacked the vent cover to the floor with a hard whack, and dropped myself into the room behind it. It was a bad move; Max’s thug was on top of me the minute I landed. Luckily, he didn’t shoot, but he had a big enough knife in his hand.

I twisted and turned out of the way of the swinging knife, but I had almost no room to maneuver, and no time to grab one of my own weapons. I was rolling left, and right, and left, and right, before I was finally able to get in a quick finger poke to the thug’s eye. It bought me enough time to get to my knees, but still not enough time to reach a weapon.

The thug recovered rapidly and charged. From my knees, I lunged in for a takedown, and had the man flat on his back. The knife almost got through the fabric of my suit. I could feel the tip of the blade working for penetration as I grabbed the man’s arm.

I broke the arm with a quick twist and snap. The thug was making the freakiest noises that I’ve ever heard. I guess that without being able to hear, they didn’t know how fucked up they sounded when they were in pain.

With the knife out of his hand, I kept him on his back with all of my weight, and spun to the side when I was ready, so that he could now get to his knees. He should have known better, as soon as he rose up, I had my arms around his neck. I began to squeeze with all my strength. He made some choking noises while he still had some air but that quickly ended. The choke I was using cut off both his air, and the blood supply to the brain. These guys were tough. I could feel his strength as he fought me, but the struggling rapidly turned to simple twitches from the arms and legs. Finally, the man was dead. I rose to my feet, and shot him in the head to make sure.

I went to the computer, which had thankfully survived our struggle. It took a minute, but I was finally able to figure out how to work the cameras. I watched as Kingsley, Dudley, and Javie shot Max’s men in the backs. It would have worked flawlessly, but the thug that Kingsley was after had actually entered the parking garage, and Kingsley had to follow him there to take him out.

The zombies in the garage were already after the thug when Kingsley arrived. The thug was shooting them down, and because he was distracted, it wasn’t too difficult for Kingsley to get behind the man and drill him in the back. The problem was that Kingsley still had to get out of the parking garage, and back into the building, while the remaining zombies were chasing after him.

He probably should have turned and fought. There were about ten of them, but instead he tried to make a run for the door. The zombies had gotten too close (he’s a smoker remember) and he wasn’t able to close the door behind him.

The zombies were in the building.

“What did you do?”

I ran from the room, and began to search for my wife.

I no longer had a lot of time. Very soon, the entire building would be crawling with zombies, and I wanted my wife to be long gone before that happened.

“What were you going to do about Max?”

I was going to kill the prick. I didn’t exactly know how, but I figured that I’d figure something out when the opportunity presented itself. It only took me a few doors before I found the entrance into balcony of the theater itself.

I quietly entered the theater, looked over the railing, and saw that Max had done some redecorating. Pathways had been created through the seating area. The seats normally covered the entire floor of the theater, the back seats being higher in altitude than the front seats, and it used to resemble a movie theater with only walkways on either side. Now, seats had been crushed, and swept to the sides all over the place, creating little walkways.

Above all these little walkways, and the stage itself, I saw chains hanging from the ceiling. Many, many, chains were just hanging there. It was rather weird in the dim light to be seeing chains hanging from the ceiling, but whatever. I was already distracted. My wife was sitting, or rather, tied to a chair in the middle of the stage. Max was relaxing just a few feet away from her with his legs hanging off the edge of the stage.

“They’re right behind me,” Kingsley shouted in my earpiece. “I’m gonna have to use the shotgun, my pistol is out of bullets.”

Everyone started jabbering into my earpiece after that, so I figured it was time to make my move. Max was going to be on alert when he started hearing Kingsley’s shotgun, and I wanted to hit him unawares.

I stood up proudly behind the metal railing of the balcony.

“Hey Max,” I boomed out in my most arrogant voice. “Welcome to El Paso.”

He had just enough time to drop the book he was reading, look up an me, and give me an equally arrogant grin that said ‘I’m going to rip you apart’ before he saw my tomahawk thundering through the air towards him.

I’ve got to give credit where credit is due. The man was fast. He managed to lose his grin, and move just enough to prevent my weapon from burying itself in his face. It hit his shoulder with a tremendous amount of force instead. In fact, the tomahawk bit into his shoulder so deeply, it went right through the collarbone, and buried itself to the wood of the shaft.

Max gave a nice little girlie scream, and spun off to the side of the stage.

I laughed a little bit, hopped over the railing, and landed on the floor of the theater. From where I landed, I had a straight walk to the stage, thanks to Max’s renovations. I avoided the chains hanging from the ceiling in case they were some kind of lame booby trap, and headed for my wife.

“Jaxon, look out!” Skie shouted as I climbed onto the stage.

Unfortunately, her warning came just a little bit too late. Max wasn’t down for the count. He spun to his side, and brought up some sort of little machine pistol, and sprayed bullets right at me. I managed to duck and roll, but I took a few in my left leg, and a couple more in my stomach.

Still, I managed to draw my own pistol and returned fire. I hit him dead center in the chest but somehow, even as I fell…Max crawled to a group of those hanging chains…studied them for a second, and pulled one.

A gentle cascade of water poured forth from the rafters, and drenched him completely before drawing to a trickle. The bastard was healing himself. Well, two could play at that game. I immediately crawled towards the group of chains nearest me, and pulled one for myself. A cement cinder block fell down from the rafters, and smacked into part of my head and my right shoulder. I saw stars, then lost most of my vision, and fell to my knees. I could hear Max getting to his feet, but it was almost impossible to move. I heard my friends babbling in my earpiece as they tried to keep the zombies from overtaking the theater. I had to move. I rose up, just as Max let loose with another spray of machine gun fire.

I dropped behind a pile of what used to be seats, but was reduced to just a pile of debris, and found that the mess made a decent cover. I was in complete agony. My head was gushing blood, my right shoulder was probably broken, and I had at least five bullets in me. Not a good day. This guy was kicking my ass, and we hadn’t even fought yet.

I willed movement back into my legs, and I willed my vision to clear as Max began to rant and rave.

“You were off to a pretty good start,” he screeched. “I don’t know why you didn’t press the attack while I was injured. Now look at me, I’m almost completely healed. You can have your tomahawk back by the way.”

My tomahawk thudded into the wall closest to me. Max wasn’t stupid enough to try the direct approach. He knew that I was still armed. Instead, he was using his irritating voice to distract me, while he kept low and made his way to the side of the room. If he succeeded in getting there, he’d have gotten around my cover.

I needed to do something, and I need to do something fast.

I was getting frantic. I had about zero good ideas coming to mind. Still, I refused to let that defeatist voice that was scratching at the back of my mind come forth. Dudley was screaming in my earpiece. The zombies had overtaken the bottom floor. My friends were trying to organize a defensive. Obviously, they knew where I was, but they couldn’t help me. They had their hands more than full, and Kingsley was separated from the rest of them, never having made it out of the bottom floor.

Things were going badly.

Things were going very, very badly.

Suddenly, everything clicked together in my mind.

It was like someone had just flipped a light switch. I peered over the debris of broken seats., and watched as Max made his way around my cover, always keeping himself behind something.

I could see where he was going. He was trying to make it to one of his renovated open spaces where a bunch of those tricky chains hung from the ceiling. I waited patiently. Or at least as patiently as I could…I’ve never exactly been known for having a lot of patience.

“Jax,” Mr. Hardin said in my earpiece. “You need to do something, and you need to do something quick. If Max gets to that open space, he’ll have a clear shot at you.” There was a clear note of panic in Mr. Hardin’s voice, but he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.

His words made Dudley freak out. He started asking over and over again whether or not I was all right. I couldn’t answer him: I was busy. I wanted to chance a look at Skie as well, but I couldn’t do that either. No distractions.

Finally, Max entered the clearing.

Before he could even think about shooting me, I opened fire at the ceiling. I couldn’t make out my targets; it was way too dark up there. Instead, I shot rapidly in wide groupings. Max was confused for a moment, and didn’t return fire. It was his mistake. I finally hit something, and clear fluid poured from the ceiling.

For a second, my heart skipped a beat. I thought I hit another water source. That’s all I needed at the moment…to give the bastard another boost of healing. Then the liquid landed on his head. He screamed for all he was worth. He screamed, and clutched at the skin literally melting off of his skull.

It was acid. I got what I wanted; I dropped one of his own booby traps on top of him. I think I chanced a little bitty smile as I watched him writhe around on the ground for a while. It didn’t take him long to master his pain. Not long at all. Before I would have thought it possible, he was moving again, crawling towards a certain chain.

I waited till he found the right one and pulled. I was worried that my body might not respond to my commands when I willed it to move, but I was lucky. Despite all the blood loss, the will to live was as great as ever.

As soon as Max pulled the chain, and water began to heal him, I had dropped my empty pistol, tumbled over the debris of my cover, and limped as fast as I could right towards him. I was lucky that he was either in so much pain or blinded, because he didn’t even notice my approach until I grabbed a hold of him around the ribs in a crushing bear hug.

The only thing is, the bear hug wasn’t an attack…I was just trying to hold on as the water began to pour over me as well. I could feel my wounds closing up. I could see the skin re-growing on Max’s ugly face.

Then, he realized what I was doing. He realized that I wasn’t attacking. He realized that I was getting stronger. He tried to throw me off, but my grip was too strong. He tried to knee me in the balls, but I already had my leg twisted in front of me to block him.

This wasn’t a gentle cascade like the first water source that he had used to heal himself. This one seemed to have tapped into the water main of the building. It was like taking a shower of health. I loved it. Max however, did not.

He tried a head butt, but I was expecting this as well. I lowered my head just enough that the impact broke his nose. He screamed, and became frantic to injure me. Too bad for him, I was feeling a lot better.

I speared my fingers into his right eye, and before he had even finished screaming, he managed to kick me square in the jaw. Under the pouring water, I barely even caught the tiniest hint of stars before they vanished, and my sight became clear. We began to punish each other, trading blows and kicks, neither one of us bothering to block. Under normal circumstances, the damage we were inflicting would have brought either one of us to our knees, but the water was still pouring, and we were still underneath it. He was healing as soon as I was damaging him, and likewise for me.

Finally, we both shoved each other out of the water at the exact same time.

I slid backwards about five feet using my hands and knees on the floor to keep my balance. As soon as I came to a stop, I rose fully and faced my opponent. As soon as he had finished rolling backwards in a controlled somersault, he rose to his feet as well. We stared at each other for a moment. He was about to say something, and I dove for his legs. A perfect takedown, now I was on top of him, and the water was behind us…I began to pummel his face with bloody results.

“I’m confused…I thought he was better than you. I thought he was faster than you. How were you able to dominate, and abuse him like that?”

Typical military arrogance, Max was faster than me, and stronger, and certainly better at using his powers. What most folks in the military never seem to realize is that they don’t have the necessary skills to defend against a trained ground fighter in an unarmed fight.

“Ground fighter?”

Someone that will take an opponent off of their feet, and attack them on the floor…I excel at this type of fighting. The military doesn’t train for this type of fighting, except for the basics, and they don’t really need to: they have guns. However, as an instructor that deals mainly in ground fighting, I’ve worked with soldiers before. I know for a fact that this is their weak area.

“You were hoping to take the fight to the ground.”

I was hoping for a chance to compete my skill against his strength and speed. I never bothered to mention it to anyone, because you can never tell someone from the military that they lack ground-fighting skills. They’ll just argue with you, but I was really hoping to get my hands on him. I knew if I could do that, I’d bring the fight into my world.

I could also tell from the shock on Max’s battered face, that this knowledge was new to him as well. He looked as if he couldn’t believe what was happening. I wanted to laugh at him. I settled for breaking his arm.

I rolled away when I saw him pull out a bowie knife with his good arm. I wasn’t happy about it, I wanted to punish him, and he still had plenty of bones left. At least his gun had fallen from his hands when the acid hit his face, so it wasn’t like I was in danger of being shot anymore. I hate being shot

He growled his rage at me, and rose to his feet.

I pulled my knife, and we charged each other.

He was good with the knife. He managed to slice me about three times before I severed his femoral artery. This shocked him as well. I don’t think he actually thought I knew my way around a blade.

“Have you had training with a knife?”

Almost an entire life’s worth. I’ve been training with knives since I was a little kid. It wasn’t until much later that I learned there were actually martial arts styles based on the use of a knife. As soon as I found out though, I happily started studying the art. I think I was in my mid twenties.

Max threw me away from him in a flood of rage. He was definitely strong. I think I flew about fifteen feet before I smacked into the nearest wall.

Before either of us could make another move, the sound of gunshots echoed through the corridors outside the many doors of the theater.

“Looks like my soldiers found your friends,” Max said with a grunt as he began to tie off the wound on his leg with a piece of shirt.

“Your men are dead, jackass,” I replied. “That’s the sound of suppressing fire.”

Max listened again as the gunshots boomed from beyond the doors of the theater.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Not likely,” I answered.

The dipshit had thrown me right next to where my tomahawk had been stuck in the wall. I watched him hobble over to where the water was still pouring from the ceiling, and right when he was about to get wet, I threw the tomahawk.

The tomahawk flew through the air like a spinning missile. Max was barely able to duck out of the way. For the first time, I saw fear in his eyes.

With my friends still screaming in my ear, I charged him like a runaway freight train. His knife pierced my side, I lost my own blade as we fell to the ground…but I once again had my hands on him.

I worked on his still broken arm. It was his weak point. He screamed out loud as I taught him how to suffer. I twisted his injured arm into new and exciting positions as he screamed and screamed. It almost looked like he was about to give up, but he suddenly remembered his bowie knife still sticking in my side. He gave it a twist, and this time I threw him into the wall purely on reflex.

It wasn’t a great move on my part. I just gave the bastard some distance. It was what he wanted. It was what he needed to win the fight, but fortunately I had a pretty good idea what he was going to do before he resumed his attack.

I can’t tell you how happy I was to be right.

“He went for the water again didn’t he?”

He sure did, and I rushed forward to meet him.

We collided like rams underneath the pouring water. He pulled his knife from my side, and once again tried to drive it into me. I blocked the swing, and drove my fist into his armpit. He screamed, and then he laughed. The water was healing him too fast to inflict any major damage without a weapon. I also believe that he healed faster than me, so add that up to another reason for why this was so freaking difficult.

I grabbed his head with both of my hands, and brought it down to meet my knee. I nailed him like this about twice when I discovered that not only had his broken arm healed, he also managed to switch hands on his knife.

It caught me by surprise. I was still worrying about the other hand. He buried the blade into my ribcage. I dropped to my knees in shock. He took a small moment to gloat, and slowly raised his bowie knife with both hands above his head for the deathblow.

As soon as he began the motion of bringing the knife down, I went for my new pocket knife. As I pulled it from my pocket, the blade engaged. I stood up inside the arc of his swing where it was safe, and stabbed him in the throat.

He made a choking sound, and staggered backwards. I pulled him to me again, and slid the blade back and forth across the soft skin of his throat. His eyes went wide in shock and fear. His body went rigid as I quickly ducked low, and severed both of his femoral arteries before piercing his navel and dragging the blade up to his sternum.

For one second, we eyed each other, and before the rushing water could heal the vast amounts of damage I had just inflicted, I kicked him away.

I watched him flounder around for just a moment as I stood under the rushing water, and let the last of my injuries mend together. He didn’t struggle very long. The damage was too severe. The blood was literally pouring out of his body.

He tried to rise, fell back down, tried to rise once more, fell back down, and just as quick as that, it was over. Max was dead.

I rushed towards Skie, and cut the ropes holding her to the chair. She grabbed a hold of me instantly, and began smothering me with kisses.

“I thought he was gonna win,” she gasped. “When he stabbed you that last time…I thought he was gonna win.”

“Well, next time leave the thinking to me,” I answered with a laugh.

“Jerk, how about I kick your ass?” she squealed.

“Later, right now I wanna get the Hell out of here.”

I took her hand and made my way towards my fallen tomahawk and knife. After picking those up, I gave my earpiece a tap.

“Mr. Hardin,” I said. “How about sending a chopper to come pick us all up, I’m in the mood for a cheeseburger.”

“I’m already in route Jaxon,” he answered. “I should be there in about five minutes. Light a flare on roof for the pilot please.”

Just then, the doors burst open, and Dudley charged in spraying bullets everywhere. I shoved Skie to the floor, and hopped on top of her just in case any strays found their way towards us.

“Stop shooting, Tex,” I shouted.

Fortunately for us, Dudley did as I asked.

“Did I get him?” Dudley asked.

“Sure,” I answered as I picked up my discarded pistol and reloaded. “Good thing you came when you did. I don’t know what we would have done without your well aimed and excellent shooting.”

“Oh, I get it,” Dudley responded in a temper tantrum. “I fight my way all the way over here, just to help you out, and you wanna be a smart ass about it. How about you bite me, how about that?”

“I’ll settle for getting out of here,” I answered. “Have you guys found Kingsley yet?”

“Sure did, he was hiding in a broom closet. It took him a while to figure out how to use his shotgun.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, he couldn’t figure it out. So after his pistol ran out of bullets, and he went for the shotgun…well, let’s just say that the zombies were so close, he had to hide in a broom closet till we came to get him.”

“Tell me it wasn’t the safety button,” I demanded.

“I’m not saying anything,” Dudley answered with a laugh and a nod.

I retrieved my pistol just in time for both of us to draw and aim our weapons at Javie and Kingsley as they burst through the same door Dudley had just come from.

“We gotta go,” Kingsley said in a breathless voice. Damn that boy needs to quit smoking. “They’re coming up right behind us.”

Without another word, we ran to the stage, and through the doors in the back. Kingsley was in the rear, and just as he was about to enter the door, the zombies began to flood into the theater. There were hundreds of them, all screaming for our flesh.

Skie began to panic. I felt her tense up next to me as she heard their howls of rage, and smelled their decaying skin.

“Don’t worry,” I shouted. “We’ve been through this more than a few times. Just don’t freeze up.”

I didn’t hand her a gun. I didn’t want her shooting any of us. Instead, I kept her right next to me, and hauled ass through the maze of corridors until we could back track our way to our exit point.

The zombies were right behind us the entire way. I certainly didn’t like the situation, there was no room to maneuver, and I definitely didn’t want to let Skie out of my sight. So, we shot over our shoulders, and kept on moving forward.

It took much longer than it should have, but in our defense, we weren’t exactly familiar with the building…anyway, we finally made it back to the control room with all the computers and the dead body of Max’s thug.

Skie screamed when she saw him.

“Forget about him,” I shouted while I closed the door behind us. “Get up in that air duct and start moving.”

“Is that the same air duct you used earlier to gain access?”

Yeah, but getting out of there wasn’t going to be that easy. Javie and Kingsley barely fit through the opening. I actually had to pound and bend the metal with my fists to make it wider for them. Kingsley was barely through when the door burst open, and the room was filled with zombies.

Fortunately, they couldn’t reach the air duct or they would have been crawling after us. However, when we finally got to the roof…either Dudley, Javie, or Kingsley had forgotten to close the access door behind them and we had company waiting for us.

“Oh no, it never seems to stop.”

When it rains, it pours. I pulled Skie out of the way of the nearest zombie, and shot it in the head. Javie popped off a flare. Fortunately, the chopper was already in the area, circling.

We fired and fired the few rounds we had left as it landed far away from the zombies. With Skie at our backs, we pulled our blades, and fended them off as we backed up towards the chopper.

Their screams brought reinforcements, and in a few moments the roof was covered with screaming zombies. I can’t tell you what a relief it was when the gigantic machine gun of the helicopter started mowing them all down. The roar of the spinning barrels was deafening, but damn, it was just about the nicest sound I’d heard in a good long while.

I was the last in the chopper, and more than a little shocked to see Clara, the gypsy girl, sitting shotgun with a smile on her face, but I figured I’d hear about that later. I had a more important question at the moment.

“What took you so long to start shooting?” I asked Mr. Hardin who was manning the machine gun.

“Had to figure out how to work the damn thing,” he answered.

Everyone started laughing. Well, everyone except for Kingsley, but he managed to crack a smile when we had to turn around and go back for Georgie after we were about halfway to the base, and remembered that we had left him behind.

Georgie wasn’t happy to be forgotten. I however, thought it was hilarious. Especially after he told me that he had lost his earpiece over the side of the roof, while he was peering down at all the zombies gathering on the street around the building. Poor Georgie was waving his arms like a madman trying to get our attention as we flew off into the bright blue sky, and towards a land without the rampaging dead.