Circling the table where she stood was a ring of zombies.
“Holy…,” I heard Rattler mutter behind me, and just in time I turned to see him raising both his weapons in the air.
“Don’t,” I said. “You can’t kill them like that!”
Rattler glared at me, but he didn’t shoot, and we stopped at the edge of the atrium, stunned by the scene.
Dr. Grace was not alone. Bryce had been propped up on the floor against the coffee table, at Dr. Grace’s feet. He was conscious, his eyes tracking the action in the room, and his color was returning as his flesh continued to knit. Next to him crouched Kaz, pleading with Dr. Grace in a low voice, telling her to stay calm.
Many of the chairs in the room were occupied, and I recognized the staff I’d encountered over the last couple of days. Biceps. Texas. The servers from the cafeteria, the security staff, the researchers I’d passed in the halls. And up front, standing on a huge flagstone hearth, was Prentiss, watching the proceedings as though they amused him. He caught my eye and gave me a chilling smile.
“Hailey!” Prentiss called. “How delightful to see you. And Prairie, what a nice surprise. I had hoped to welcome you personally, but things did get fouled up, didn’t they? Nevertheless, we are pleased you could make it. And Mr. Sikes. My intrepid partner.” His voice turned cold. “You’ve supplied me with one… challenge after another.”
“Shut your mouth, you damn windbag,” Rattler snapped. “You got what’s mine. One a my people. Let ’im go now, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Your people…” Prentiss pretended to be confused. “Oh, you must mean young Mr. Sawicki. I am afraid I will be requiring his services. In fact, we were just having a… staff meeting, to introduce him. And, of course, to discipline Dr. Grace, who was careless enough to allow him and young Hailey to cause quite a disruption. And now you’ve brought the Tarbells to join us. How very expedient.”
Kaz had gotten to his feet and clambered up onto the coffee table, where he was trying to quiet Dr. Grace. He shot me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“I’m’a start shootin’ now,” Rattler said. “I’ll drop one a your folks at a time until you start talkin’ sense.”
Before anyone could react, a shot echoed through the space and there was a sharp exclamation; the man who had served me my lunch the day before fell to the carpet, clutching his arm and moaning. I hadn’t even seen him move.
“Jes’ so you know, if I’d’a meant to kill ’im, he’d be a dead man,” Rattler added placidly.
Prentiss chuckled. “Impressive, I suppose, when one hails from a backwater town such as this. Only don’t forget, my dear man, that I’m always a step ahead of you.”
He motioned with his outstretched arms, and the staff rose from their seats.
“Endearing, really, your bravado,” Prentiss said. On the floor the injured man moaned and clutched his elbow. “Especially when my men could exterminate you in three seconds flat. Oh yes, on my signal they-”
Rattler’s guns exploded a second time, several bursts in quick succession. A man fell from the second-floor balcony, hitting the ground with a sickening thud, and another lurched from the shadows across the room, took two tottering steps, and fell in a spray of his own blood.
For a moment Rattler and Prentiss stared at each other, and then Prentiss continued in a tight voice, as though Rattler hadn’t just shot two of his guards. “Are ready to act on my command, is what I was going to say, Mr. Sikes. My men are disciplined. They respond only to my orders. Although if you really want to see impressive loyalty, you need only look to the subjects of my study. My passion, you might call them, the results of millions of dollars and years of research, the fruit of a collaborative effort that your own people, as you call them, have made possible.”
There was silence as all eyes turned to the zombies, who had stayed motionless.
Prentiss walked slowly across the room. “Gentlemen,” he said when he was only a few feet from the ring of zombies. “Seize the Tarbells.”
The gasp that went up throughout the room echoed my own shock. I staggered backward to Prairie and grabbed her hand, and we held tightly to each other. I frantically searched the room for an escape, but the only exits were blocked by Prentiss’s men.
The zombies did not hurry. They shambled, their steps uncertain and almost comic, the motions of a drunkard. Their hands reached out toward us and their mouths opened with flesh lust, and I heard my own whimper of fear.
“No.”
Another voice rasped out, and the zombies slowed. They turned, one after another, tottering on their rotting limbs, staring without emotion at the source of the voice.
Bryce.
He had managed to drag himself into one of the chairs, his face red with exertion. “No. Do not do what Prentiss says. No, wait-go to Prentiss. Now.”
“Stop,” Prentiss barked.
“You forgot,” Bryce said. “All the training protocols, the recordings, the sessions… whose voice were they in, General?”
“Don’t call me that,” Prentiss protested, his cultivated voice going high and thin.
“Oh, but that’s what I always called you, back in the day,” Bryce said. With effort, he pushed himself into a standing position, leaning against the chair for support. “ ‘The General.’ You used to like it, don’t you remember? Made you feel important. Made you feel like you were a part of the team.”
The zombies approached Prentiss, clustering together like a second-grade class on a field trip.
“But you were never part of the team, General,” Bryce went on. It seemed almost like he was starting to enjoy the conversation. “I was the one who made it work. I was the one who figured out the impossible. And now I’m the one who has destroyed it all. You hear me, General? It’s gone, every last backup. The boy and I made sure of it. And now it’s time for you to be gone too.”
Prentiss’s mouth worked in terror, but nothing came out.
“No one will grieve you when you’re gone,” Bryce continued. “No one will remember you at all. Didn’t you ever learn, General, that pride’s a sin?”
One of the men at the periphery had been stealthily advancing, creeping along the bases of the chairs, trying to get a clear shot at Rattler. As Bryce rambled on, Rattler suddenly whipped around toward the creeping guard and took his shot, and the guard fell to the carpet.
“Pride’s a sin,” Bryce repeated, almost reflectively. “And I guess no one knows that more than me. Deactivate Alistair Prentiss, please.”
Prentiss stood his ground for ten, maybe even twenty, seconds, sputtering and making threats, before he turned and tried to bolt from the room. But he’d gone only a step or two before Rattler shot the ground at his feet, and he spun and cried out in fear.
After that, it was just a matter of waiting.
We all waited: the staff, cowering in their small groups, clutching each other for comfort; me and Prairie, who had never let go; Kaz, who wrapped his arms around Dr. Grace to block out the sounds.
Most of all, Prentiss waited, his eyes going twitchy with terror as the first of the zombies set upon him.
I won’t describe the rest. I turned away after a few seconds. The zombies kept coming, relentless, and it was a mercy that they set upon his throat first, so we didn’t have to listen to his screams.
It was over fast. When Prentiss was dead, the pack dropped him to the floor without ceremony, their task finished, and then Bryce’s voice was heard again.
“Now come to me.”
They started across the floor, festooned with Prentiss’s blood, and Bryce stood tall and proud, a slight tremor the only evidence of his body’s frail state. The zombies circled him in an ever-tightening scrum, and when they were so close that they bumped into each other, he took a deep breath and spoke in a calm voice.