Edge Walkers (21 page)

Grabbing the scope, she put it to her eye, and took a deep breath. She went thought the memory again. She’d shoved the tech to the floor. Hadn’t he been left on the other side? And Thompson—bloody, eyes glazing…she knew he was dead. She didn’t want to see him like Chand. God, Chand. She’d seen him die with his eyes glowing and light spilling through cracks in his skin. Gulping down another breath, she forced her hands to steady. Through the telescope, she glimpsed a flap of white coat. She changed the focus and the blur sharpened. Zeigler’s pony tail stood out, ragged and frizzy from his bent head.

“God—Zeigler.” She breathed out the words. She’d heard his scream, but she…she hadn’t seen him die. Was she even remembering how events had happened? Or had her mind started to fill in the blanks with images it had created? It didn’t matter, not when compared with what she was seeing.

Zeigler staggered forward, surrounded by Walkers. She couldn’t focus tight enough for a glimpse of his eyes. Was he still human?

Lowering the scope, she glanced at Gideon. “Walkers—do they ever take prisoners?”

Gideon shook his head, slow and sure. “We’re food.”

“And they’re desperate for a new source,” Carrie said. “Desperate enough to do things they’ve never done before.”

Hand clenching on the hard edges of the scope, she ignored the cut of the metal. She’d thought herself tired, exhausted, but urgency sizzled under her skin as bright as those Walkers’ eyes. She’d never understood her dad—how he could sacrifice his life and the lives of others. How he’d thrown his own life away at the very end, and she was still angry with him for that. But sympathy for her dad flashed through her—this wasn’t going to be fun. However, she knew what needed to be done. She knew too well the price of inaction—and of failure.

Heart thudding in her throat, she glanced at Gideon’s profile, pale in the faint light of early day. She thought of his wife, already dead. Her body taken. She thought of Temple and his family—his last living child. She heard Shoup and Jakes behind her, chambering rounds. She remembered Chand’s face, those ungodly white-lit eyes, and she looked back to where Zeigler staggered between Walkers.
God, please let me get this right.

Jaw clenched, she nodded. She put it into blunt words for herself and the others. “We have to go after him.”

“We do,” Jakes said. He shifted his weapon into an easier grip, propped the butt on his hip. “You don’t.”

She swung around to face him. “Like hell—”

“The only way we’re going to out-flank those things to see what’s what with your guy down there is if you go one way, we go another. They head after you. Shoup and I come up behind. We need you as bait.”

Shoup offered an easy grin. “Papa’s goin’ huntin’.”

Gideon thrust a hand out to the flashes of light. “He’s dead already. They all are. You want a plan? We ambush them at the base of the foothills. Put everything walking to rest. Then we run.”

Hefting the laptop in her arms—she needed Temple’s bag right now—Carrie glanced at Gideon before she looked back to the city. “Run where? I think we...” The words faded and she had to blink, to brush the stray drops of pending rain from her eyes and refocus. She stared at the ruins spread out below, the towers, the winding streets, the half fallen structures. Flashes of memories from the rings echoed and settled into firm knowing.

That open square had been the civic center and that space to the left a park; the scent this time of year should be the spice of flowers blooming, and to the right she recognized the tall double-spikes of the Sky Tower. Temple had set up his world’s last effort to stop the Walkers there, in what was his equivalent to her lab. Memories not her own, left from the rings, shifted, merged and began to fit into an idea.

Wetting her lips, she crouched down to draw in the dirt. “Okay, if we’re doing this, here’s the plan.”

Jakes spoke her name the same time as Gideon, one man taking her given name, the other her Christian, both voices loaded with warning. She glanced at Jakes, saw his mouth tighten and his glare shift to Gideon. She looked to him as well, already knowing the arguments he’d make. She knew because she’d seen his memories—she’d felt the shattering loss from his wife’s death as if it were her own. And she knew what it was like to watch someone you love die.

Keeping her stare steady on Gideon, she said, “Gotta trust me.”

The words were for Jakes, too. Both men shifted on their feet. Gideon’s mouth pulled down and stubborn, and he shook his head. He turned and strode back into the cavern. Carrie bit her lower lip and tried to not care about the sharp jab in her chest left by his departure.

If Gideon wanted out, he had that right. She would not call his name, and would not show the hurt welling. She had her own tasks ahead of her.

Turning back to the dirt, she began to map the city. “Here’s where I crossed by the old quarry. Here’s Temple’s lab—” She looked up at Jakes and Shoup. “No, don’t ask how I know. I know.”

“Goddamm rings,” Jakes muttered. “Least it’s intel. But how is it you think you’re running this show?”

She sat back on her heels. “Because I’m the one who does know. We don’t have time to argue, or for you to get the memories I have. So here’s what I’m thinking.” She laid out most of her plan, held back the parts she knew they wouldn’t like. She hadn’t grown up a colonel’s daughter without learning something about ‘need to know.’ Half way through, Gideon returned. She glanced at him, and had to hang onto the ground to keep her crouching balance on her heels. He kept his distance until she rose, the laptop clutched like a shield over her chest.

She didn’t say anything, but she offered Gideon a wary glance. Lifting her eyebrows, she sent him unspoken questions—ones she couldn’t ask in front of Jakes and ones she just couldn’t voice.

The faintest smile twisted one side of his mouth, as if he knew she’d been worried—and that he was sorry for it. He held out her running shoes with one hand and a bag like the one she’d seen on Temple. “You’ll need these.”

She nodded, gave him back half a smile. Sitting down, she slipped on her shoes, kept her stare on the laces, so she wouldn’t embarrass herself or Gideon with anything like relief that he wasn’t leaving her side. Jakes kicked at a rock and Shoup stood guard and Gideon said nothing.

When Carrie stood again, Jakes said, “Don’t like it. Bad enough we’re splitting up.” He started tapping his trigger finger on his gun, the beat an even staccato.

Gideon folded his arms. “She didn’t ask if we liked it. The question is will you do what she asked?”

Bending down, Carrie slipped the laptop into the bag. She straightened and the crystal shard in her pocket pressed into her hip from the weight of the non-working laptop. She shifted the bag to lean it more on her butt and looked out at the city and the lights dancing closer. This distant, the Walkers almost looked pretty. A dry wind scoured her face. Sharp ozone stung her nose and she caught the faint stench of rotting flesh.

Turning away, she wrapped a fist around the bag’s strap and lifted it from where it was cutting into her shoulder. “Gideon’s right. So are you, Jakes. You have to find out if we need to…do with Zeigler what we did with...” She swallowed the words, couldn’t talk about what they’d had to do with Chand. She shifted the laptop again. “We also need that doorway home. And we’re on a clock.”

She slipped into a fast review of her fears—about the Walkers, the Rift, the possibility the barrier between dimensions was being shredded. She threw in enough technical terms that Gideon started to fidget and Shoup hunched a shoulder and Jake’s mouth twitched down. She glanced between the three men as she talked, watched them, knew their patience would snap before hers did—she’d always been good about winning arguments by wearing down obstacles. Shoup stood back from the other two men, his stare kept on the city, tracking the Walkers. Jake’s lips thinned until they almost disappeared. And she knew Gideon had to be thinking not just of Zeigler, but of putting his wife’s dead body into the ground.

She had bigger targets in mind as well.

Someone had to stop the Walkers. Too many had died. Too many more might die—Gideon, Temple and his family, her brothers if this went the way it was looking to go.

The devastation had to stop.

She couldn’t let it spread and she had an idea about how to end it. She had to act because if you knew a solution and didn’t try for it, what kind of coward did that make you? She straightened, didn’t know if she was up for this, but she had to try—and that meant making sure Jakes and his orders weren’t standing in her way.

The rain had started to fall in steady light drops when Jakes gave a sharp nod. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Letting out a breath, Carrie glanced at Gideon. He touched a finger to her arm, kept her tunic between his skin and hers. Carrie tried for a confident nod back, but she didn’t know if she managed anything other than to look half terrified. Because she was. She was taking a risk not just with her life, but with everything.

Looking away from Carrie, Gideon held out his hand. “I’m going to need more than a knife.”

Jakes’ mouth twitched down again, but he nodded to Shoup who pulled out a compact Glock 19. Carrie raised her eyebrows at it—no way was that standard issue—but Shoup handed it over with a humorless smile and two clips, saying, “Trigger’s a touch touchy.”

Gideon nodded, stuffed the clips in the back pockets of his tattered jeans, kept the gun in one hand, and turned to Carrie. “Ready?”

She wanted to shake her head ‘no.’ She wanted a reason, any reason, to put this off. But she gave him another quick nod. She didn’t have the spit left for any words.

She forced herself to take a step forward, but Shoup’s voice stopped her, and she turned back, almost relieved someone would try to talk her out of this. But Shoup reached into another pocket, pulled out something else. Just how much ordinance was the man packing?

It wasn’t a gun that he slapped into her palm. She closed her fingers on the thick bulk of a battered red Swiss Army knife, its even-sided white cross a reminder of the one Gideon wore. It was the fat deluxe version with a corkscrew, three blades, and two kinds of screwdrivers.

Shoup gestured to the laptop. “Saves you crackin’ the case with a hammer.”

“Right,” she said, drew out the word, because she was not letting anyone near this computer with a hammer.

Jakes stepped up and jabbed a finger in her face. “You stay on track. Because I am not going back with empty hands and men dead for no goddamm reason.” He shifted his stare to Gideon and held two fingers upright to focus attention. “No goddamm stupid heroics.”

Gideon stared back, his face empty. Jakes seemed to take that for answer enough. With a backhanded slap to Shoup’s arm, Jakes started down the hillside, Shoup on his right. Watching them walk away, Carrie shivered in the rain. Good thing Jakes hadn’t warned her against taking on stupid heroics or she’d have had to lie to him. She wasn’t going to be able to keep lying to Gideon.

Pushing a hand into her hair to drag back the damp ends, she took in a long breath that filled her lungs with cool air. Turning to Gideon, she let everything out in a rush.

“I didn’t tell them everything, but I’m not sure I should tell you, except I can’t do this without your help. But you want the Walkers gone and I think I know a way to do that. Maybe.” She let go of her hair, let her shoulders slump and hitched up the strap for the bag with the laptop so she could better shield it from the wet. “Now, you want to call Jakes back and tell him I’ve lost my mind, because, given what I’m thinking, I might have. Or are you with me on slamming the door on every damn Walker?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

To be honest, I’m not sure what we did. Except to blow every last line of defenses. Which is why you have to let us out. There’s only one chance for all of us and it’s an all or nothing gamble. — Excerpt Gideon Chant Interview

Gideon stared at Carrie, watched her squint against the rain. She leaned to the right a fraction, the weight of the laptop dragging on her, but her chin had lifted and her eyes gleamed, fear and determination mixing into a bright edge. A minute ago she’d seemed almost reasonable, outlining a plan that might work. But he remembered when they’d first met and she’d tried to bolt out the door with no idea of what waited for her. Did she have any better an idea now?

He glanced out to the city, to the lights sparking closer. He thought of his hunts—the ones that had gone well, and the ones that damn near killed him. He looked at Carrie again, certain of one thing.

“If you’re going to get us both in trouble, it’d better be away from the caverns.”

She frowned and opened her mouth to give him more good reasons—it seemed she always had more logic than he could use. He could see the words lining up behind her eyes. Before she could get them out, he grabbed the strap to her sack and started down the slope, pulling her with him.

“I know what I’m doing,” she muttered.

“Let’s make sure the Walkers don’t,” he told her.

They kept to a narrow track until they were halfway down the hillside. Gideon turned off the path there, climbed over boulders and scrambled down loose rock. He kept glancing back to make sure Carrie followed. The rain kept up, light but steady. Carrie slipped once and he grabbed her hand. Startling at his touch, she caught a sharp breath but he didn’t let go. Neither did she. His heart kicked up, knocked his ribs. The wind pushed into them, stronger. Nothing else happened.

The air didn’t sizzle. The Rift didn’t open. Their connection wasn’t that strong. Not yet. Or maybe the rain could dampen it. It didn’t matter so long as he could keep hold of her hand, small and fine-boned in his grip. He tried not to notice how good it was to have that contact with her, how her warmth kept the chill off his back. The sound of her breathing behind him reminded him he had a reason to keep living now.

The ground leveled, buildings rose around them, swallowed them into a protective grace that hid the Walkers from view. The structures gave them some shelter from the rain that was starting to come down faster now. Carrie pulled away, struck out ahead of him, her stride long and sure.