Will jogged over to the first man he had shot and picked up his rifle. He collected two spare magazines and a radio, then salvaged another carbine from another dead body before joining Mike, who stood over the last surviving collaborator.
The man lay bleeding and hyperventilating, eyes looking desperately up at an unsympathetic Mike. “Don’t kill me. Please, God, don’t kill me. I don’t want to die. I didn’t want to do this. I swear to God, they made me do this.”
Then the man threw up.
One of the dead men was named Toby. It was the first name the voice on the other end of the radio Will had picked up said when he called over:
“Toby, give me a sitrep. Are they dead? What’s going on over there? Someone answer me, goddammit.”
“Who was that?” Will asked.
The collaborator wiped at strings of what looked like eggs and bread with the sleeve of his hazmat suit. The lower half of his face was covered with dry vomit. It smelled, and Will alternated between breathing through his nose and mouth. And he thought the dead ghouls were tough on the smell factories…
“Please, can I have some water?” the man asked. He looked on the verge of tears.
Mike shoved the barrel of his shotgun into the back of the man’s neck. “Answer the question.”
“Kellerson,” the man said. “His name’s Kellerson.”
“He’s in charge?” Will asked.
“Yeah.”
“How many of you are there?”
The man didn’t answer right away. He seemed to be counting. “Sixteen,” he said finally.
“Counting you and the other three on the streets?”
“Yeah.”
“So there are twelve left at the hospital,” Mike said.
“Yeah,” the man said.
“What’s your name?” Will asked.
“Jones,” the man said.
They were a block away from the ambush site, inside a Subway sandwich shop. The building was tiny and easy to miss, but it gave them a perfect view of the streets while staying out of sight. Jones sat in a booth, hands on the tabletop. Mike kept vigil behind the nervous man, while Will stood slightly to his right, so he could see the street at the same time.
“How did you get into the hospital?” Mike asked.
“We climbed up,” Jones said.
“How?”
“Through the ventilation shaft.”
“Bullshit. We checked. The shafts are too small for anything to climb through. Even those bloodsuckers.”
“No, not the main ventilation system,” Jones said. “There’s an older one that’s been out of service that Kellerson found on a blueprint of the place. It goes straight up along the north side, then loops around the roof. It comes out of a sealed grate in the rooftop stairwell. The guys who went up there had to remove the grate, but since there was no one inside the stairwell, I guess it wasn’t too hard. From there, they were supposed to open the other stairwell door and let the others in.”
Mike’s face had grown paler. The idea that he had missed something so vital, that had now come back to take the lives of his people, was playing havoc with his mind. Will felt sorry for the guy. Eleven months, and they hadn’t realized there wasn’t one, but two ventilation systems. Mike was the leader. What had just happened at the hospital, ultimately, was on him.
“What’s the plan?” Will asked Jones. “For the floor. Are they going to kill everyone?”
Jones didn’t look anxious to answer.
Mike shoved his shotgun against Jones’s neck again. “Answer the man.”
“Just the adults,” Jones said. “They want the kids.”
“‘They’?” Mike asked, though Will thought the former officer already knew the answer before Jones even replied.
“Yeah, them,” Jones said. “Them.”
“Why do they want the kids?” Will asked.
“I don’t know.”
“For the blood?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.”
“What else would they want the kids for if not for their blood?”
Jones looked hesitant. “I heard stories…”
“Go on.”
“The creatures, they have a plan. It involves the kids. I don’t know any more than that. Just that they’re concentrating on the kids now, for some reason.”
“What about the adults?” Will asked.
“They’re too hard to control. The kids are…easier.”
Will glanced briefly at Mike, expecting him to pick up the interrogation, but Mike’s mind wasn’t there at the moment. It was up the street, back at the hospital.
“Where were you taking the kids?” Will asked Jones.
“I don’t know. That’s Kellerson’s job. He knows all the details.” Then he added, quickly, “I’m just a grunt, okay?”
“Are they on the tenth floor now? The bloodsuckers?”
“No, it’s still too bright. They don’t like to risk the sunlight, and the guys don’t like having them run around. It’s…creepy. They won’t flood the floor until nightfall. We were supposed to be gone by then.”
Mike glanced reflexively down at his watch. Will didn’t have to. It was noon outside. He had been fleeing the dark long enough that he could tell the hour from the feel of the warmth against his skin.
“What do you mean by ‘adults’?” Will asked.
“What?” Jones said, not comprehending.
“How old.”
“Over sixteen, I guess. Basically, anyone with a gun. They don’t want anyone who resists. They just want the kids.”
Gaby turned nineteen today. And she’s certainly as hell going to resist.
“Is it over?” Will asked. “Did you kill all the adults? I don’t hear anymore shooting.”
“Last time I checked, there were a couple unaccounted for. They’re still looking for them.”
Gaby?
“Why are you doing this?” Mike asked. He had been so quiet for so long that his sudden voice made Jones jump a bit.
“What do you mean?” Jones asked, turning to look back at Mike.
“Why are you betraying your own kind?”
“I…” Jones’s mind seemed to be working overtime, probably trying to come up with an answer that would keep him alive. “To survive,” he said finally. “Isn’t that what we’re all just trying to do here? I’m just trying to survive like everyone else.”
“That’s it?”
“I’m not proud of it, but I don’t have a choice.”
“You had a choice,” Mike said. “You just chose the wrong one.”
Jones opened his mouth to answer, but thought better of it.
Mike looked at Will. “You wanna ask him anything else?”
“How many did you kill on the tenth floor?” Will asked Jones.
Jones shook his head. “Wasn’t my assignment. Me and the other three guys that chased you had the lobby. I didn’t even kill anyone.”
“Not for lack of trying.”
“I’m just following orders,” Jones said defensively.
“Now where have I heard that before?”
Jones didn’t answer. He looked away instead.
“Anything else?” Mike said.
Will shook his head. “I’m done.”
“Good,” Mike said, and blew Jones’s head off with the Mossberg from less than a foot away.
CHAPTER 12
GABY
I just turned nineteen, and I’ve already killed three men.
Happy birthday to me.