“Maybe another hundred rifles in good condition,” said Gorgon. “If we can get people, we can use them.” I don’t think we need to worry about the exes that much , said Zzzap. They all looked at him. “Why not?”
Well, everything we’ve seen this guy do is either individuals or groups that are all acting the same way, right?
Stealth nodded.
I’m betting he’s still got a human brain , said the wraith. Or a human mind, at least. I don’t think he can control lots of exes individually. It’s too much input and output for him to handle. Like playing an RTS video game. You can work with one unit, or you can click on a bunch and make them all do the same thing. But it’s impossible to manage more than two or three to do specific tasks.
“Does he need to?” Gorgon shrugged. “They break open a gate and the exes are just going to do what he wants anyway.”
Right, but I don’t think we need to worry about anything too elaborate. He’ll probably just move them to where they can do the most damage and that’ll be that.
“A good possibility,” said Stealth. “This makes splitting our forces more advantageous. Casares will have to split his attention to deal with all of us.” St. George nodded. “Keep him off balance on multiple fronts and he won’t be able to focus.”
“Correct. We know he has Cairax as an asset. The demon is still faster and stronger than humans, even as an ex, and also fireproof and bulletproof. Odds are he will focus some of his attention there.” She looked up at Gorgon. “His main focus seems to be capturing you, however. You and I will be at the Melrose gate. It will most likely be the primary point of their attack and where he will be.” Gorgon nodded. “I can play bait. Barry?” The burning silhouette turned to him. “Remind me to bounce something off you. I thought of it a while back. It just seemed a little weird to bring it up if we didn’t need to.”
“St. George, you can monitor between Bronson and Van Ness,” continued Stealth. “It is a larger area but you are the most versatile of us. Stay on alert for Cairax as well. Cerberus and Zzzap, you will guard the North Gower gate. If conditions permit, Zzzap can offer support to other crisis points. Cerberus?”
“Yeah?”
“I think it’s time we re-armed you.” Inside the armor, Danielle smiled. “Finally.”
* * * *
The North Gower gate was set up in the same way as Melrose. A truck had been tipped against the sliding fence to block one side, and another backed up to hold it in place. The other half was left open in case they ever needed an exit.
The walking dead filled the street as far as they could see in either direction. They packed every inch of the alley across Gower and the lower level of the parking structure. Dozens and dozens of exes stretched and clawed through the bars of the gate. Young and old, male and female, fresh and piecemeal. Where the truck blocked the entrance they flailed at the fiberglass walls with open palms. The sound was like an enormous drum.
“That’s going to grate on the nerves,” said Cerberus. She shifted her stance and the armor reset dozens of targeting factors for her. After all this time, the M-2s felt heavy on her arms.
Zzzap hovered over her, casting light over the gate and down 12th Street. Could be worse, he said. Can you imagine if they all moaned like in the movies?
On top of the guard shack, Lady Bee shook her head. “You don’t know when to shut up, do you, hot stuff?”
What? I’m just saying, as sieges go—
“Stop talking,” said the battlesuit. “Just stop.”
A line of twenty guards stood by the gate, rifles slung over their shoulders. As one they stepped forward and rammed their pikes and spears through the bars of the gate. The dead stiffened as their skulls cracked and their brains were shredded. Then the humans pulled their weapons free, stepped back, and lunged at the gate again even as more exes staggered forward.
Lynne leaned against a lamp post, her dark hair fresh-shorn down to her scalp. She looked up at Zzzap. “Couldn’t you just go out and burn them all up by touching them or something?”
The shape of his head twisted to point at her. I could, he nodded, but I’d rather not.
“Why not?”
It feels …creepy when things burn on me.
She tilted her head. “How so?”
Did you ever see Carrie ?
“No.”
The glowing wraith made a buzzing noise, and Lynne realized it was a sigh. Okay, he said, imagine what it would be like to have someone dump a few gallons of cold, rotted pig blood filled with maggots all over you.
Her face twisted up. “That’s disgusting.”
Yep.
Cerberus glanced up at him. “Wuss.”
Lynne looked between the two heroes. “Is that what exes feel like?”
That’s what everything solid feels like when I’m like this. Exes are worse because I have to think about what they are. The glowing outline shuddered in the air. I’ll do it to save lives, don’t get me wrong. But I’d rather wait until that moment if we can.
“Switch lines,” called out Bee. “Let’s not get tired before we have to.”
Lynne gave them a quick nod and ran to the gate. The pikemen stepped back and handed off their weapons. She stepped forward with a new line and another score of exes twitched and dropped.
Cerberus glanced up at the brilliant figure. “That really what it feels like?”
No, he said. It’s actually a lot worse. I’m just not very good with words .
* * * *
The Bronson gate had been barricaded for over a year. Each side was blocked with a huge truck pressed against the gates. Another set of trucks had been backed against them and their tires slashed, creating an alley for any exes that slipped through. Stair units and ladders against the fallen vehicles let patrols stand on top and watch the crowds of exes.
St. George dropped down out of the night sky and landed on a truck with a loud thump. He’d pulled on some heavy boots, gloves, and a leather jacket covered with stitch-work and patches. He looked at the tense faces and trembling weapons. “How’s everyone doing?”
The click-clack of countless teeth rose from outside the gate to fill the air.
Makana gave him a thumbs-up. “We’re peachy,” he said.
“You guys have it easy,” he said. “No pike work.”
“Rather be spearing ’em than sitting here,” said a heavy man with short blond dreadlocks.
The hero looked out over the Bronson entrance. The short driveway was crammed with the dead. They beat at the trucks through the gate, and the impacts shook beneath their feet. At least four hundred exes packed the area between the gate and the street. Beyond them, they mobbed the street, a crowd that spread off into the darkness in either direction.
“Don’t give in to fear,” St. George said. A muffled cough in the back of his throat sent a few curls of smoke out of his nostrils. “If you’re scared, that’s normal. It’s been a hell of a day. But if you let fear take over, you’re as good as dead. Just remember to do your job and they can’t get in.”
A rail-thin woman shook her head. “What about the SS?”
“We’ll take care of them, don’t worry.”
“But how? We can’t shoot at people. We can’t—”
“I said,” he interrupted, “we’ll take care of them. You don’t need to worry about it.”
“No point worrying anyway, right?” A young kid glanced up at the hero. He was sixteen at the most, and the rifle looked huge in his hands. “This is where we go down fighting.”