A Darker Shade of Dead (22 page)

The men didn't waste time after that, planning a strategy that would net them a big win—if they could pull it off.

S
andra was nervous, but Matt's steady presence calmed her somewhat.

“Just act naturally. We're going to eat a nice dinner inside and then after the sun goes down, the guys will get you to safety while the rest of us deal with the attack we hope will come.”

“Only someone as crazy as you would
want
to be attacked by zombies.” She tried to make light of the situation, but they both knew it scared the heck out of her.

“The location is perfect. This satellite dining facility is small and near the woods. There won't be many people here at this hour, and if we time it right, we can keep the action in the wooded area.”

“What if your timing is off?”

“Then we'll go with Plan B.” He shrugged nonchalantly but she knew he wasn't as cavalier about that option as he seemed.

“What's Plan B?”

“We lock down the mess hall and keep everyone inside. There aren't many windows, so they won't see much. Then we take care of the problem outside.”

“This whole thing sounds risky to me.” She was uneasy with the whole setup.

“I won't lie. It is risky. I don't want more civilian casualties and I certainly don't want anyone seeing the zombies as we engage them, but on such short notice this is the best place we could come up with that was believable. Rodriguez has to know that I'm keeping you close now that so many attempts have been made to get you. It makes sense that I would bring you to this remote mess hall rather than someplace farther from our new headquarters. If he's as connected to the news on base as I think, he'll already know all about our move to the new building.”

She looked around the mess hall. The building was of older vintage, like the rest of this outlying area of the enormous base. It served a smaller contingent of older, less populated buildings. At this hour, there were few personnel inside. Most went home for dinner or to one of the larger, more modern facilities elsewhere.

Sandra supposed Matt was right. He was, after all, the commander of this very special team. Even now, he had the tracking chip in a sealed plastic vial of saline in his pocket. When they left the mess hall, Sandra was supposed to peel off from Matt under cover of night and head for safety with Sam Archer acting as escort until she was safely back inside the new headquarters building. Then Sam would rejoin the combat team who would probably already be engaging the enemy in the woods behind the mess hall.

At least that was the plan.

She hoped it worked. Frankly, she didn't have the greatest confidence. Not that she doubted Matt and his men. Her real concerns were about the bad guys and whether they would behave as rationally as Matt's plan envisioned. For all she knew, the zombies would attack the mess hall directly and not wait for her outside.

As the meal drew to a close, she found herself growing more nervous. She had a part to play in this little drama and had to get it right. Any minute now, they'd get up from the table and the plan would be set in motion.

Matt's hand landed over hers as she reached for her water. Damn, he had good hands. Strong and manly with calluses from what had to be years of weapons training.

“Calm down. You're shaking like a leaf.”

Damn. She didn't realize she'd been that obvious.

“Sorry.” She made a conscious effort to calm herself. “I'm worried. I just can't help thinking something's going to go wrong.”

“Let us worry about that. All you have to do is your part. We've got the rest covered.”

Just in case, she'd brought a vial of her experimental serum. If anyone who wasn't already immune got bitten or scratched, she might be able to help them survive—if their body chemistry reacted well to the serum. That was a big if.

She'd improved on the serum a bit already, but there was still a ways to go to get it so that it would work on everyone, regardless of their particular chemistry. Still, it was worth a try. The contagion brought almost certain death. The serum had at least a slim chance of saving someone who'd been exposed.

“I hope it all goes as expected. I'm just worried it won't. These guys haven't really played by our rules to this point, and I fear they won't do it this time, either.”

“My guys are all experienced improvisers. If the plan goes south, we'll compensate. Don't worry. We've got every base covered.” Matt stood, picking up both trays. “It's time to get this show on the road.”

She followed him to the door, aware when he pulled the tactical radio earpiece from his pocket. He placed it in his ear so fast she almost missed it. He was connected to the team outside, able to hear their reports.

“Everything's good to go,” he told her. “I want you to walk with me to the switch point. We'll meet up with Sam at the end of the walkway, and you go with him as quickly as possible. Got it?”

She nodded. “Be safe, Matt.” She wanted to say so much more, but the words stuck in her throat.

She wanted him to know she loved him, but fear kept her silent. Fear of rejection. Fear he wouldn't feel the same. She was afraid of so much. The plan seemed to be full of holes. She was worried about him and his men. Even immunity to the contagion wouldn't save them from being ripped limb from limb or eaten alive if they got surrounded by the creatures.

Sandra tamped down her fear and put on a brave face.

“Ready?” Matt asked, his hand on the door handle.

“Ready as I'll ever be.” She sent him a grim smile. Impulsively, she placed one hand on his arm. “Promise me you'll be careful.”

He covered her hand with his and squeezed lightly.

“I will if you will. When Sam meets us I want you to go with him without delay. I want you safely away before the battle begins. I need to know you're safe.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

“Then I do, too.” The corner of his lips rose in the barest hint of a smile.

The slight gesture warmed her heart beyond all expectation. Matt pushed open the door and they headed out together.

They left the mess hall together, but if all went as planned, Matt would be ditching her at the end of the path nestled between the old brick building and the tree line. Sam would take his place and escort her to safety. The ambush was set a little farther on, in a more secluded area that the team had all agreed would be the most likely attack point.

The woods were denser, the lighting less intrusive, and the area was sparsely inhabited. The zombies would have a clear shot at whoever they caught in that area. The reverse was also true. The combat team had plenty of cover to set their trap. Now all they had to do was spring it.

Only a short way down the path, a man stepped out of the trees directly to their left, catching their attention. Half his face was missing. Torn away by the zombie who had killed him.

“Ah, hell,” Matt cursed low, opening the channel between himself and the rest of the combat team. “They jumped the gun. It's going down on the walkway. Get over here. Move now.”

Matt pushed her behind him, simultaneously digging out the dart pistol he'd concealed under his jacket. It was already loaded and an expert flick of his finger dismissed the safety. He took aim and began firing without hesitation. Four darts in succession hit various parts of the zombie's body, spreading the dose for maximum effect.

Sandra looked around, gasping when she saw another bloodstained body with a half-eaten face clear the tree line about ten feet from where she was standing.

“Matt, there's another one!” She pointed to her right, where the creature advanced. She backed away, but there wasn't much space. The path was bordered on one side by a short hedge with a strip of grass behind it that led right up to the foundation of the building. On the other side was more grass that led up to a small copse of trees that ran the length of the building.

Matt fired four more shots and then paused to reload. It appeared he had spare clips in his pockets. She wondered how many he had on him, when two more creatures stepped out from the tree line. She could see more working their way through the tree trunks at their steady, unrelenting pace.

“Where are you, guys?” Matt talked into the small radio clipped to his ear.

She didn't hear the answer, but the curse he bit off under his breath spoke volumes.

“What's going on?”

“Equipment malfunction.” He turned to fire more darts as he pushed her over the short hedge and into the grass strip between the building and the paved walkway. “They'll be here in five. We just have to hold these guys off until the cavalry arrives.”

“I hope we can last that long,” she muttered under her breath.

“Son of a—” Matt cursed as a full half dozen zombies converged on them. One had a broken arm that dangled at a nauseating angle as it walked. All sported the obvious signs of zombie attack. At least three had missing fingers that looked, even from this distance, as if they'd been gnawed off. Two had parts of their noses missing in different configurations that turned Sandra's stomach when she chanced a look. Then she noticed that more than a few ears had gone missing as well, and all had dried bloodstains down their mouths and over their clawed hands.

There wasn't much room to maneuver in the area between the building and the path. For all their plodding, the creatures actually moved pretty fast. The steady pace was deceptive. They covered a lot of ground in their rhythmic way. A brick wall at her back and a semicircle of zombies in front, only Matt stood between Sandra and a painful death at the hands—make that claws—of the undead platoon heading their way.

“To the right, Sandy,” Matt urged as he kept firing at the advancing enemy.

There was one bit of good news. The first one had finally disintegrated. The bad news was that the others were all still standing and heading in their direction—even the ones with darts sticking out of their bodies. The toxin in the darts hadn't done its job yet, but it would. Given enough time. It was up to Matt and Sandra to stick it out and keep themselves out of range long enough to let the toxin do its thing.

Sandy felt along the brick wall behind her, edging to the right as instructed. Her hands scratched along the old, worn brick until they encountered something smooth and cold.

Glass.

There was a big window in the side of the building. Hallelujah.

She shrugged out of her jacket, moving quickly, and wrapped it around her hand a few times before punching through the glass with all her might. It hurt her knuckles, but the fabric did a good job of protecting her skin from the broken glass. Thankfully this was an old building and it had regular old glass panes, not tempered glass or Plexiglas or safety glass of any kind. It broke easily into jagged spears that tinkled and crunched as they fell to the floor below. She used her cloth-wrapped hand to break away the bigger shards that stuck out, making a big enough hole for them to step through.

“We're in,” she told Matt.

Looking over her shoulder toward him, she realized they had nowhere to run except into the building. The creatures had effectively cut them off. On the bright side, two more zombies had disintegrated into piles of slimy goo. Still, the toxin wasn't working fast enough. They had to buy more time.

“Go,” Matt ordered.

Sandra didn't waste any time jumping through the hole she'd made in the window, into an empty room. High ceilinged and bare of furnishings, her footsteps echoed around the room, bouncing off the brick walls and concrete flooring. The room was large with a chalkboard along one wall, like a classroom or some kind of old-fashioned conference room.

Matt followed her in, two of the zombies fast on his heels. They bottlenecked outside the window for a few seconds while they jockeyed for position, each seeming to want to go in first and neither giving way to the other. Mostly mindless as they were, they didn't seem to grasp the idea of cooperation or courtesy.

Sandra would have laughed if the situation wasn't so critical.

“Try the door.” Matt pushed her toward the room's only door while the duo at the window finally figured out how to get in.

They did it without regard for the jagged edges of glass sticking out all around the neat hole Sandra had made. They didn't bleed much, she noticed absently, though the glass made long, deep gouges into their skin. It looked like the majority of blood they'd possessed when living had already drained out of their previous grievous injuries.

Sandra made it to the door and turned the handle. The hardware was a little loose in its mooring, but it wasn't locked. The knob turned and the door opened into a darkened hall. She looked both ways, surprised to see the shadowed hall looked like it ran most of the length of the building, with doors opening off it at regular intervals.

Matt backed toward her and the open door, keeping himself between the advancing creatures and Sandra. She was appalled to see even more zombies finding their way in through the window. They were multiplying faster than she'd have believed if she wasn't there experiencing it.

“The team is on its way. They'll come in from behind. As long as we can stay ahead of these guys, we should be okay.”

“The hallway is clear,” she reported.

“Good. Go!” He shooed her toward the open door and she went without further comment. Matt followed, closing the door and looking around—probably for something to block it with. “We have to contain them.” His tone was grim.

“Can't we just stay here in the hall and pick them off as they try to follow us?”

“The toxin takes too long to take them down, but it's as good an idea as any. We'll retreat only when we have to. Go up to the end of the hall and make sure our exit is clear. The last thing I want to do is get boxed in here.”

Sandra ran up to the end of the dark hall and pushed open the door.

Only to come face to face with the business end of a gun barrel.