They fell back into the base as the dead resumed their relentless march forward. The sergeant nodded at the exes. “Can’t you burn them all?”
“If we’re willing to wait the two or three hours it’ll take them to burn, sure. We need something to block this opening with, like a truck or something big.”
“Sergeant Stewart,” shouted Pierce. “Get hold of the motor pool and get us a truck or the Dragon Wagon over here pronto. Don’t worry about a full tank, just move it.”
St. George grabbed a dead man in a Marine uniform and hurled him underhand into the crowd like a bowling ball. “How long will it take them to get something here?”
“Three or four minutes if someone’s there,” said Pierce. “Maybe ten or fifteen if we send a runner. That’s if I send one of mine.”
“I’d do it if I were you.”
The staff sergeant nodded. “Guess until then it’s still a shooting gallery,” he said. He hefted his Bravo and hooked a new box of ammo onto it.
* * *
Danielle crouched behind the soldiers with her back against the wall. An under-manned squad had shown up and made a passable fire line, especially with the lone men in either tower picking off exes with sniper shots. She had the pistols Stealth had given her, but she couldn’t stretch her arm out to aim them.
There was so much open space around her. Open space and undead.
At the fence gap, the Driver did a fine job dealing with the exes one on one. She had to admit, the battlesuit moved in a fluid, natural way she didn’t even think was possible. It crushed skulls and batted exes away with a casual grace. It looked alive.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, the armored figure turned and stomped back to the fire line. Two of the soldiers dove out of the way to avoid being trampled. It stopped in front of her like an oversized puppy.
“Ummmm, hey,” said the titan. “Big crowd of zombies coming. You got any tips?”
It pointed back at the hole in the fence. Fifty or sixty yards away, a thick mob of exes shambled forward. There were at least two hundred of them, with dozens of stragglers all around the main cluster. The soldiers saw the mob, too, and a palpable wave of unease washed over the line.
“Use the stunners,” said Danielle. “That’ll give these guys more time to make their shots.”
The armored skull tilted to the side. “The what?”
“The stunners. The TASER fields built into the fists,” she said. “They’ll put an ex down for a few seconds, long enough to give us an advantage.”
The dry rasp of wind filled the air as the exes sucked in a breath. “COMING TO GET YOU, BITCH,” they shouted. Dozens of arms pointed across the open space at Danielle. “GONNA STICK YOUR HEAD ON A FLAGPOLE AND CARRY IT EVERYWHERE!”
The titan looked over its shoulder and back at her. “That’s him, isn’t it? Peasy’s still alive.”
“Yeah,” she said. There was nothing between her and the zombies. She tried to sound calm. “Looks like he is.”
The battlesuit froze for a moment. “Okay, stunners,” it said. “How do I do that?”
“I thought you were controlling the suit?”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I know everything it does. It’s like getting a new car, y’know? I know how to do the basics, but none of the special features.”
“Great,” muttered Danielle. “Okay, let me talk you through it…”
* * *
Zzzap hung over the door to the armory as Freedom’s group caught up to him. At first glance it looked like any other building. With his own unique eyesight, Zzzap had seen the metal door and the double-thick concrete.
Behind them, three clusters of ex-soldiers came together to form a decent-sized mob. They staggered forward, their teeth snapping together again and again with a sound like wooden hail. Some of them still had the straps of their rifles tangled in their arms.
Awwwww, you found some friends, said the wraith. Good for you.
Kennedy was in the lead. She ran to the door and yanked open a panel that covered the keypad. Jefferson hit the wall next to her and twisted up his face as his arm slapped the concrete. Freedom let off two more bursts from his Bravo before it ran empty. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and pulled Lady Liberty from her holster. The modified shotgun bellowed and a trio of heads vanished in a spray of blood and gore.
“A little help would be appreciated,” the captain called up to the glowing figure. Lady Liberty roared again and the closest ex came apart into half a dozen pieces.
Kennedy tapped out a code. The keypad flashed red and she swore.
The wraith sighed and floated forward, putting himself between the soldiers and the undead. Watch your eyes. He held out his palms, took a deep mental breath, and focused. There was a blast of light, a howl of superheated air, and the exes vanished in a cloud of fire and ash. So did a parked jeep, a large swath of pavement, and the gravel beneath it.
Zzzap slumped in the air for a moment while the desert breeze scattered the new dust. “Are you doing okay, sir?” Jefferson squinted at the gleaming figure. He could almost see through it at points. “You look…pale.”
Don’t give me that ‘sir’ crap, said the wraith. A few hours ago you people were happy having me locked up in a box.
“I didn’t know anything about that,” said Freedom. He pushed past Kennedy and tapped the code into the keypad.
Sure you didn’t.
“I didn’t, and if I had I wouldn’t’ve stood for it. The President has been very firm on the treatment of prison—”
Yeah, whatever. You’re a real American hero. Go get your guns. He shook his head as the door locks clanged open. Then he snapped, I’m fine. Don’t you start in on me, too.
Sergeant Kennedy glanced up as she dragged the door open. “Sorry, sir?”
Nothing. Go get your guns. I’ll watch the door.
The three of them slipped into the armory. “Jefferson,” said the captain, “you’re not combat fit with that arm. Get a real splint from the first aid kit and then get as much ammunition as you can into that M35 outside. Once you get all of it, start on weapons.”
“Copy that, sir.”
Freedom grabbed a fresh ammo box for the Bravo and slung a spare on his harness. The Mk 19 grenade launcher caught his eye for a moment but he shook his head. He looked around and also found a trio of drums for Lady Liberty already mounted on a harness.
Across from him Kennedy finished wrapping the Velcro splint on Jefferson’s arm. She reloaded her Bravo with a fresh box and filled a bag with a dozen more. Two boxes of 9mm slid into her thigh pockets.
The captain was heading out when he saw the zip-tied plastic container in the holding cage. He snapped the ties with his fingers, pulled out the twin Glocks and their magazines, and stuffed them into his thigh pockets.
Kennedy watched him stash the pistols. “What are those for, sir?”
He twisted his lip. “If we need a peace offering.”
* * *
Harrison was on point as they moved through one of the underground passages between Krypton’s key buildings. It was hot as hell, but he knew it was safer than being upstairs where everything was falling apart. The thought crossed his mind and he felt a twinge of uneasiness. He’d felt it before a few times in his life. It was when he knew he was doing something wrong.
They had Stealth in handcuffs. After seeing her move in Smith’s office, he’d used two sets of cuffs. One was latched on her wrists, the other pinched her arms together a few inches above the first set. They’d shackled her legs, too. Polk and Taylor kept her at gunpoint as they marched down the tunnel. The chains rustled and chimed as she shuffled along the hallway.