“Sarah, you better be alright.”
—
One of the grunts at a checkpoint built up in the middle of the highway a short distance from the prefab command center waved Wayne down.
Though he kept a hand on his tome for any emergencies, Wayne wasn’t really up to testing his reaction time against the eight guns trained on him. And those were just the ones he could see. Even with the few seconds of time dilation provided by his pyrokinesis enhancing his mind, it was far too easy to get hit by a bullet from somewhere he couldn’t see.
So Wayne pulled over at the checkpoint, keeping his motions as innocent as possible.
A young grunt, a private by the single chevron he sported on his uniform, stepped out of the small guardhouse and right up to the driver-side window.
“City is under quarantine,” he said as he waved his flashlight over the passenger seat and rear seats before stopping at the book on Wayne’s lap. “I’m going to have to ask you to turn around.”
Without a word, Wayne held up an identification badge and a set of papers.
The private took the forged documents and glanced over them. He spent a good two minutes looking between the identification and Wayne. “Major Lurcher?” At Wayne’s nod, he turned his attention to the papers.
Wayne had to fight to keep the smile off of his face as the private’s eyes went wide.
“I-I think I need to call this in.”
“Then get to it, Private Mhenlo,” Wayne snapped, taking his name from the tape above his left breast. “I don’t have all–”
A crackle of distant gunshots cut Wayne off.
Wayne made a vague gesture off towards the direction it came from. “Make the call, private. And make it quick.”
“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.” The private gave a sloppy salute as he half ran into his little guardhouse.
Before the door could slam shut, Wayne extended a small thaumaturgical shield out, catching the door and keeping it from closing fully. He then watched through the window as the private picked up a phone.
“Sir,” his voice came through the crack in the door, “I have a Major out here requesting entrance.”
There was a slight pause as the other end of the line replied.
“No, sir. Entrance to the city itself. He’s–”
…
“Yes, sir.”
…
“No, sir. No armor or even a uniform. No insignia either. He’s wearing a sold black suit with a flat-topped hat.”
…
“No, sir. He’s alone. Had a thick book though. I think,” he paused, glancing out the window. As soon as he noticed Wayne watching him, his back went straight and he looked away. “I think he’s black-ops. Men-in-black or something, you know?”
…
“Crazier than what’s been trying to escape from the city?”
…
“Sorry, sir. Won’t happen again. I’ll wave him through.”
With that, the private hung up and rushed back outside. The soldiers around the guard post apparently got a few orders over radio by the time the private made it to the Impala. They promptly pulled their weapons off of Wayne, though they kept ready and alert.
Hard to blame them for being paranoid with the disaster in the city behind them.
“Alright, sir. Captain said he wanted to meet with you. He’s up at the larger building at the left. Said he’d meet you at the entrance.”
“Thank you, Private Mhenlo.” Wayne retrieved his papers from the kid.
Stepping away from the Impala, the private touched his fingers to the brim of his hat.
Wayne gave a half-hearted return salute as he pulled forwards. Not too fast, he didn’t want to spook the guards into shooting him. Thankfully, he made it without incident.
It was good that the military had created a large and movable gate over the highway as opposed to a solid wall. The city itself was still far enough away that walking would have taken far too long. He had already delayed enough through simply not hearing about the situation for a day and a half. Hopefully the roads wouldn’t be jam-packed with other cars.
Still, the gate didn’t open. Grumbling at having to meet with some officer, Wayne shut off the engine and got out of his car. He kept his focus tucked in the crook of his arm.
Outside the larger building, one of the two guards opened the door. Neither saluted as Wayne walked past, but he didn’t expect them to. While not a part of the army, Wayne was still fairly certain that saluting out of uniform wasn’t a thing.
A thing that the captain–based off of his insignia of double silver bars–who was standing at attention within the building apparently hadn’t heard about.
Wayne had to give the same half-hearted salute just to get him to relax.
“Once the road is clear of any hostiles,” Wayne said, half throwing his papers at the captain, “you’re to open your gate and allow my vehicle through.”
“I can’t–”
“You can and you will. Your orders are to keep anyone, or anything, from leaving the city. Unless something has changed, you have no orders against allowing entry.”
It was a bluff. A huge gamble. But even if the man’s orders had been phrased as ‘not letting anything in or out,’ Wayne was getting into the city one way or another. If that meant fighting through a small contingent of armed forces, so be it.
After a tense moment of staring at the middle-aged captain, he finally sighed. “These papers say that you’re attempting a VIP extraction. I can’t let you back out.”
“That isn’t something you need to concern yourself with.” Unfortunately. Wayne didn’t quite plan that far ahead. Something would work out, even if it did end up with Sarah using her earth magic to burrow out of the city. There was also the river running through the city. It would probably be less defended than roads. “We received word of the individual being still alive and must attempt the extraction.”
“With all due respect, sir, you’re going to get eaten alive out there. Literally. Before we finished setting up the wall, two of my men…”
He shook his head, glancing down at the floor. “We probably didn’t need to burn the bodies, though we did anyway of course. Orders are orders.”
“It was good that you did,” Wayne said honestly. “Those killed by vampires have a habit of not staying dead. But don’t concern yourself with my safety. I am what you might call a specialist in these sorts of matters.”
Despite continuing to speak, Wayne was relatively certain that Captain Hicks hadn’t heard much after a certain word.
“Vampires, sir?”
Wayne grimaced at the captain’s tone. He should have just kept his mouth shut.
“Things have been crazy here, but there is no need for jokes in such poor taste.”
“I am entirely serious,” Wayne said, voice dropping a few notches. “Though you likely haven’t been fighting many. Ghouls and thralls for the most part. The smarter vampires would send such minions to your walls to probe for weaknesses.”
“Ghouls? Thralls? Sir, I-I hate to ask. Are you feeling alright?”
Wayne sighed. This conversation was going on far too long already. He needed to get into that city. If the captain decided to shut him out on the chance of him being crazy…
Magic channeled through his tome, forming a spark in the air between the two. Above Wayne’s open palm, a cool fireball formed. No real heat emitted save for a pleasant warmth, like moving from shade into the sunlight on a chilly day.
Captain Hicks took a step back, hand going to his side for his pistol.
Wayne extinguished the flame before the captain could draw it. Just in case, he erected a very visible thaumaturgical shield between the two.
“Ghouls,” Wayne said, raising his voice. “Created by death through exsanguination of a human by a vampire. They’ll follow the vampire’s orders through a mental link, but aren’t much better than zombies. You’ve seen the movies, right?”
Wide-eyed, the captain nodded. His pistol was out of his holster, but it was still aimed at the floor with its safety on and his finger on the trigger guard.