Deadman's Switch & Sunder the Hollow Ones (21 page)

“Now, Jessie! Come on, guys!” Kelly calls to Reg and Ash.

We all turn and follow him.

Ahead of us, Jake and Micah are clearing a path to the closest apartment building. Stephen wades into the fray without a weapon. He unshoulders his heavy backpack and swings it around, knocking the Undead within range to the ground. They get up again and return for more. Kelly swings his own bat and another IU goes down. This one doesn't get up.

Reggie sprints past me and up the steps to the apartment. Without slowing down, he slams into the door, thinking it's latched, but it slams open and he goes tumbling in. The rest of us follow, but he suddenly comes running back out again, knocking us back down the steps.

“Shit! Go back!”

Zombies crowd the doorway, piling over one another in their desire to reach us. Reggie leaps right over us and slams into a pair of IUs. Before they can get back up, Micah and Kelly have killed them. Ashley hurries over to the next apartment, but Reggie roars and points to a fire escape ladder on the side of the adjacent building.

“No time,” Kelly yells, swinging at a female IU. She hisses and stops just out of his reach. A second zom joins her, stopping beside her, waiting.

“Fuckers are getting smarter!” Kelly yells. The sound of his voice drives them to attack. He swings his bat and takes them both out.

“Not that smart,” Reggie yells back.

“Get to the fire escape!”

Stephen's already on it, pulling the ladder down and for a split second I think he's going to leave us all behind. But he steps off, holding it to the ground and beckons Ashley and Tanya over. They quickly begin to climb.

“We'll see if IUs can climb,” he shouts, swinging at one which has gotten too close. We already know CUs can climb from watching
Survivalist
, but they're under exogenous control.

“Go!” Kelly screams at me.

I run over, but when I try to reach up, my left hand goes no higher than my waist, and there's no strength in my arm.

“Get on my back,” Reggie says, pulling me out of the way. I drape my good arm over his shoulder and he helps me wrap my legs around his waist. Then he begins to climb.

The higher he goes, the more I can see below us. The Undead are coming from all around, hundreds of them.

“Hurry up,” I tell Reggie.

“You're…choking…me.”

But I can't do anything about that. If I loosen my grip, I'll fall.

Micah and Jake disappear onto the ladder below us, leaving only Kelly to defend the rest of us. The IUs swarm closer and I scream for him to hurry up, to climb faster. Reggie pushes over the top and hurls me to the roof. Hands pull at me, tug me to my feet. I scramble back over to the edge and look down.

Jake curls over the top of the ladder next, quickly followed by Micah. Reggie yanks them both out of the way. Stephen's on the fourth rung, kicking at a stubborn IU. Its head snaps back and fragments of clotted tissue fly from its shattered face, but it just keeps right on coming.

“Go,” Kelly yells at him.

Stephen grips the ladder and throws himself up, but then he slips and tumbles over backward. The IUs quickly descend on him. Underneath the pile, Stephen screams. Kelly reaches over and yanks one away, slamming it headfirst into the side of the brick apartment building. It crumples to the ground, leaving a powdery puff mark on the wall that the rain quickly washes away. He slams another in the head, then reaches for the third. It turns its head at the last moment and I can see that it's the stubborn one with the smashed face. It hisses at Kelly. Then a foot levers up from underneath and the zom hurtles backward. Stephen scrambles to his feet and up the ladder.

“Kelly!”

He spins around, swinging the bat wildly about.

“That's for Tom,” he shouts, clearing a space wide enough so he can climb. He jumps five rungs up and flies up the ladder. An IU grabs his ankle, but its hand slips off. The zombies gather around the base looking up, moaning hungrily, but they don't climb.

When Kelly reaches the roof, Reggie reaches down with one hand and practically lifts him off the ladder and swings him around as if he were a construction crane. It's nearly an exact replay of what he did after Kelly resurfaced that day we went to check out the Midtown tunnel. And in that instant, seeing the look on both their faces, I realize that no matter what might have transpired on that particular day—whether Reggie actually did push Kelly over the railing or not—none of that matters anymore. Any intentions, whether malicious or just plain reckless, they don't mean shit now.

Reggie falls down with a grunt and looks up at Kelly. Kelly looks back, panting, trying to catch his breath. They smile weakly at each other and shake their heads.

“So, I got a question for you,” Reggie says. “Who the hell is Tom?”

 

 

“He's bleeding.”

Jake points at Stephen and repeats himself, louder, when nobody says anything.

Stephen shoves Jake aside. “It's nothing. I just opened up some of the scrapes on my back.”

I get up and march over to him, still clutching my bad shoulder to my side. “We need to check. Take off your shirt. Do it!”

He stops and slowly turns and faces us. His eyes are wild and jumpy from our narrow escape, so I can't tell whether it's fright or that he's trying to hide something.

“Cut him some slack, Jess,” Ashley says. “He held the ladder for us. He didn't have to do that.”

“Really?” Reggie says, incredulous. “You want us to cut this piece some slack after all the bullshit he put us through back at the airport? Did you forget about that thing in our heads that won't let us leave?
He made that!
” He spins around at me, shaking his fist, spraying rain. “And you! I still can't believe you let him ride with his hands untied. If you ask me, he's had more slack than he deserves!”

“Hey!” I shout back. “I said we needed to check his wounds, so don't start ragging on me.”

Stephen stomps off across the roof. Nobody moves to stop him. It's not like there's anywhere for him to go. We watch as he stops at the far corner, teetering on the edge. He stands there looking out at the scene below him, at the hordes of Undead.

The rain batters the roof, slapping on the surface and sounding like crackling wood in a fire. But even through the din we can still hear the death moans of the IUs beneath us. Kelly checks over the edge to make sure they're not climbing up the ladder. Satisfied, he walks over to me.

“We can check on Stephen in a bit. First, how's that arm?”

I shake my head. The pain is beginning to set in again, now that the adrenaline is fading from my system. Once more I feel like I'm going to puke.

He reaches over and gently squeezes my shoulder. His eyes don't betray a thing, but his jaw clenches, telling me all I need to know.

He sighs. “Well, it feels dislocated. I don't think it's broken. Anyone here know how to fix a dislocated shoulder?”

Jake smolders for a moment before stepping over and nodding. He swallows and looks gravely at me. If it were anyone else but me, I doubt he'd be so hesitant.

“It's all right, Jake,” I tell him. “If you know how to fix it, then do it. I trust you.”

He reaches tentatively out and places a palm on my left shoulder, then grasps my elbow with the other. “I've never actually done this in real life.”

“Yeah, well, real life ain't what it's cracked up to be,” I tell him, wincing through my teeth as he slowly raises my arm. “Just do your best.”

“Am I hurting you?”

“No, this actually feels great. Don't worry about that, damn it. Just hurry up and fix it!”

Kelly nods encouragingly, the worry in his face masking the jealousy and bitterness he has to be feeling. This can't be easy for him, seeing me in such pain, helpless to do anything about it. Knowing that it's all in Jake's hands. He hates not being able to help. He's used to taking care of people, like Kyle. And me.

“I'm going to pull and twist,” Jake says. “Try not to resist.”

I nod.

He pulls, and at first the pain is tolerable, but then my shoulder seems to lock up. Fire bursts inside, burning down my side. Jake immediately stops.

“Keep going!”

“But—”

“You're good, Jake,” Kelly tries to reassure him.

Jake pulls again and the fire becomes burning magma swelling inside of me, exploding out through the spaces between my bones, melting my muscles. I feel my knees weaken. I feel consciousness slipping away. Jake pulls and it's like someone has shoved a screwdriver between the bones of my shoulder and is twisting it around, digging, gouging it out. I can feel things grinding against each other that were never meant to meet, bones that don't belong where they are. My knees give out just as there's a wet, sickening pop, and the fire vanishes, leaving only dull embers of pain in its wake.

“How does it feel?”

I realize Kelly's holding me up. The strength returns to my legs, but he holds on anyway.

“It's okay. Still sore, but at least I can move it.” I slowly raise my arm shoulder high and make a fist. The whole thing feels delicate, like it might fall apart if I push myself too hard.

“See? All better.”

“You're wincing.”

“Duh. It still hurts. Thanks, Jake. It feels a thousand times better. You did a good job.”

Reggie comes over and studies me for a moment. He claps Jake on the back. “The rain's letting up a bit. I think the sky is starting to lighten up a bit, too.”

We all look up. I think it's wishful thinking on Reggie's part. To me, the sky looks darker than ever.

“If we're lucky, the clouds'll break up and the IUs will go back to their homes.”

“They're not going to leave. They know we're here.”

“They don't
know
anything, Kel. The only reason they're sticking around is because we keep looking over the side and reminding them. They're standing down there going, ‘What exactly did I come over here for?' And then they see us and they go, ‘Oh yeah, that's right. Dinner.' We need to stop. We need to pull everyone away from the edge of the roof.”

He glances over at Stephen. The Ducks jersey is stained red on the side Kelly and Reg bandaged last night.

“And we need to stop talking.”

After Kelly puts me in a makeshift sling, I walk over and whisper to Stephen that he needs to come sit down with the rest of us and get something to eat. He refuses. I remind him we need to check his wound. He lies down where he is standing. I don't ask again. As long as he's out of sight of the IUs, as long as we can keep an eye on him, I don't care.

The rain slows and eventually stops, but the clouds remain. Thunder rumbles, sometimes near, sometimes farther away. We resign ourselves to the possibility of spending the night on the roof, soaked to the bone, while the Undead wander around below us.

† † †

The sun finally breaks through around three-thirty in the afternoon. By four, it's beating down on us with unrelenting fury, almost like it's trying to make up for lost time. Steam rises from the roof, swathing us until it feels like we'll never dry out. We swelter and sweat and wait. At five, just as the shadows are starting to creep out from under everything, Kelly edges his way to the side of the roof and peeks over. He crawls back and reports that he can't see any IUs.

“But there may be some right below us,” he warns.

I get up and walk over to the side of the apartment opposite the fire escape. Stephen is still lying there, looking like he's asleep. I stick my head over the edge and see that the ground is clear there, too.

“Miss Daniels?” Stephen whispers.

“We're leaving. The IUs are gone. You need to get up and have something to eat before we go. It'll give you strength.”

He raises himself up on an elbow. He looks pale. There's a shallow puddle of red where he's been lying.

“You really should let one of us rebandage that scrape.”

“Listen, there's something you should know.”

I can see the others watching us, waiting. Kelly especially. I bend down. He coughs into his hand. It sounds wet, phlegmy.

“Back there on the tram,” I say. “I need you to tell me right now. What was in that injection? The one you tried to give to Kelly?”

“No, listen to me, Miss Daniels. There isn't much time. An hour, maybe two. I don't know how much longer I have.”

I frown. “You haven't lost that much blood. A bad scrape, sure. Eat something and you'll be fine.”

“No. No! I said, listen to me! I'm not hungry.”

I blink at him, trying to understand.

There's a crunch of someone's footsteps coming up behind me. It's Kelly. “What's going on?” he whispers. “Is it clear? If so, we should go.”

“Just a minute.”

He gestures at Stephen. “Did you check him?”

I turn back and study Stephen's face for a moment, the look in his eyes. Then I stand up, shaking my head. “It won't be necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

I glance over at the others. They're ready to go.

“He's infected.”

 

 

Jake raises the gun
and points it. The look in Stephen's eyes is hard as they stare each other down.

“Put the gun away, Jake,” Kelly says. “Think of the noise. We can deal with this another way.”

“How the hell did you get it?” I ask, reaching around behind me. Of course the gun isn't there. “When did you—”

“I picked it up off the road after you crashed.” His eyes never leave Stephen's face, so he doesn't see Ashley circling around behind him. Tanya does, but she's slow to react, still sluggish after our rest. Maybe if it was one of the boys or me trying to sneak up on Jake, but it's not. Nobody expects little Ashley to attempt to unarm someone like Jake. No one expects Ashley to defend a man like Stephen against one of our own. By the time Tanya realizes what Ash is doing, it's too late to stop her.