With the undead closing in, Jack shut his eyes and prayed. He wasn’t sure he believed in a higher power. He knew the universe was too complex to “just be, ” but he had never taken the time to explore his beliefs. So he prayed; prayed for a way out of the impending doom.
The sound of squeaking metal filled Jack’s ears over the shuffle and hum-like sounds the undead were giving off. Opening his eyes, he saw the double doors parting. Then the guards, dressed in their black fatigues, carrying machine guns, came up the stairs. They formed a wall and began firing into the crowd. Memories of that horrible Brooklyn Bridge massacre filled Jack’s mind, but only for a second. He saw Kevin among the machine gun toting soldiers. He hadn’t thought of them as such, but that’s what they were, soldiers. Soldiers performing their duties as guards.
The line of guards was aiming high, aiming for the zombies’ heads, disintegrating them. If the scene wasn’t so horrendous, Jack thought it would be beautiful. Turning his head to the stairwell, movement catching his eye, he saw Chambers at the top of the stairs. He was yelling and motioning for Jack to come to him.
Zaun was enthralled by the carnage, a grin on his face. Jack knew his friend was a little different than most, a hyperactive, emotional guy, but seeing his expression was almost scary. Jack nudged him, then pointed to Chambers.
Soon Jack and Zaun were underground, just below the street, listening to the awesome sounds of gunfire. Jack thought single burst would have made more sense, aiming at the heads, but guessed they were doing a quick not-worried-about-ammo rescue mission. The machine gun fire began to lessen as the guards came down the stairs, Chambers the last to arrive as the doors swung shut.
Silence swallowed the group as everyone composed themselves.
Finally, Zaun spoke up, “Damn, you guys came just in time.”
“Yeah, thanks. To each and every one of you,” Jack told the room.
“I hate to ask, because we aren’t going back up there, but is that it, Jack?” Chambers asked. “A plus one?”
He nodded. “Whole building was gone. Everyone dead.”
Chambers seemed to be thinking something over, then said, “All right, everyone. Good work up there. Head back down, take an hour, then back to your posts.”
The guards left, leaving Chambers, Jack, and Zaun to take the elevator. “Where are we heading?” Zaun asked.
“To the containment room,” Chambers answered. “We need to make sure you’re not carrying any of them little critters around inside you.”
When the elevator came to a stop, Guard Devon Witherspoon was waiting to take their weapons.
“It’s protocol,” Chambers said. “You aren’t military and Doctor Reynolds doesn’t want just anyone running around with weapons.”
Jack nodded, and gave up the guns.
“The sword too,” Chambers said.
“Hell no. This stays with me.”
“That’s fine,” Chambers said, crossing his arms over his massive chest. “But then you don’t stay with us. Doc’s house; doc’s rules.”
“Hand it over, Zaun,” Jack told his friend, and he did, reluctantly giving the sword to Chambers.
“They’ll be in the arsenal, safe and sound.”
They followed Chambers to the containment room, Zaun entering first, Jack hesitating.
“Jack?” Chambers asked.
“I’m okay,” he said, then walked in. The door closed behind them, making Jack jump.
“What’s up?” Zaun asked. “This going to hurt?”
“No. They just zap the room with an EMP. You won’t feel a thing.”
“So what’s…” Zaun paused. “Oh, this is the room where Jess.. where she died?”
“No, she was already dead by the time she was here. This is where I last saw her body, before I fried the little bastards inside of her.”
“Sorry man,” Zaun said, putting a hand on Jack’s shoulder.
“Thanks.”
A small hole opened in the ceiling and a silver sphere, attached by a metal arm, lowered into the room.
“Is it disco time?” Zaun asked.
The lights dimmed, and the sphere began to glow red. A bass-like blast echoed around the room. Before Jack knew it, the lights came back on and the silver sphere retracted back into the ceiling. The door to the room opened, and Chambers told them that they were all set.
“Jack,” the man said, “ Dr. Reynolds would like to have a word with you in his room.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. What about Zaun?”
“Mr. Van Pelt will be escorted to his room, and a guard will be posted outside his door, for now.”
“What am I, a criminal?” Zaun asked.
“Relax,” Jack told him. “They don’t know you. Once they do a thorough background check, like they did with me, you’ll be fine.”
“No background checks, Jack,” Chambers said. “We’re self-contained now. No internet, but don’t worry, I’m sure Dr. Reynolds will give your friend the run of the place in no time.”
“Okay, buddy,” Zaun said to Jack. “Don’t want to upset our hosts. I’ll behave. You go see this doctor and I’ll catch you in a bit. I need a shower and a nap.” Turning to Chambers, he asked, “You guys have showers, right?”
“Yes, each residential floor has them.”
Chapter 14
Jack sat in the same chair he had sat in during his last visit to Doctor Reynolds’ place. This time instead of drinking Cognac, the man was sipping tea, offering Jack nothing to refresh himself with this time. The imitation fireplace blazed away, Jack feeling its heat as if it were real.
“So, all that for only one survivor?” Dr. Reynolds asked.
Jack thought the man sounded perturbed. “Yes. Only one and I’d do it again for another one.”
“I didn’t mean to sound cruel, as if your friend’s life wasn’t worth rescuing. I simply mean it’s a shame there weren’t others, that along with the rest of the city, the entire building was dead.”
Jack went on, telling the Doctor everything that had happened, from his climb up the rope, to finding Zaun almost dead, to the narrow escape at the end.
“Amazing,” the doctor said, his tone cold, no emotion in it. “The last part, your rescue, I watched on camera. Dreadful.”
The doc took another sip of his tea. Jack thought the man looked terrible, as if he hadn’t slept in days. Screw the tea, the man needed his liquor.
“Any headway on the bot situation?” Jack asked, wanting off the current topic.
“None,” Dr. Reynolds said, looking dejected.
Jack had never seen the man as he was, completely cold, almost sinister in his demeanor. The guy was under a lot of pressure. Jack wondered how he would feel having the weight of a cure on his shoulders.
“Well,” Dr. Reynolds said, “I’m glad you at least found one person alive… and a friend no less.”
“Yeah…” Jack shifted slightly in his chair. “About that. I wanted to ask you something.”
“Shoot,” the man said, enthusiastically, startling Jack a bit.
“When you do find a way to stop the bots, a cure so to speak, and I know you will, how are you planning to get word to the outside?”
Reynolds sat still, looking at Jack as if studying him. He sipped his tea, taking his time as if pondering something. Jack felt a shiver crawl over him, waiting for a response. He began to question if he should have kept his mouth shut.
“I have a way,” he said. “A way of communicating to the proper authorities.”
Jack couldn’t believe it. So there was a way to reach the outside. Why had he kept it from him?
“Only a few others know about this,” Dr. Reynolds continued, “and I’m counting on you to keep it to yourself. This includes your friend, Mr. Van Pelt.”
“But why? Wouldn’t it make the others feel better, knowing they aren’t cut off?”
“No. It would distract them. They’d constantly want to get word out to their families. Then they’d even want to speak to them, one on one. This can’t and won’t happen. Not on my end and not on the military’s. The channel is hardwired to a building in Brooklyn. Communication-wise, it goes directly to my bosses. They expect their soldiers to do their jobs, and not worry about home life. The same goes for when our troops are in the field overseas. No communication. No whereabouts known. It’s better to just have everyone believe we’re on our own, leaving the men and women here to realize that they must be up to their best. Bottom line, they need to concentrate on their duties.”