The Rise of Macon: A Zombie Novel (Macon Saga Book 2) (13 page)

Seconds later he was down and motioned for Grace to go, who
glided down as if floating. She joined Kyle and moved to the side as Kyle
carefully caught the rifle that James passed him. Kyle made sure to bring the
rifle down in a motion that kept it from making a slapping sound on his hand. His
sword, still in its scabbard came next, followed by James and Graces two
rifles. The end of the rope followed.

Kyle watched as James moved over the edge, his dangling
legs searching for purchase, as he slowly lowered himself farther, until his
whole body hung from his fingers, clutching the sides.

"Straight down," whispered Kyle as loudly as he
dared. He took position a step away from where James would land in case he fell
backwards. But before he gave it another thought, the agile form of James
landed with a thump, his knees folding to take the weight of his fall.

"You good?" asked Kyle quietly.

"Good."

Kyle slung his rifle, scanning the top of the wall, while
James and Grace got situated. A slap on the shoulder let him know they were
ready. All three of them sprinted across the twenty five feet expanse of dried
grass and the burnt remains of diseased. They reached the inner wall, flattening
themselves and taking a breath at reaching safety, if only for a minute. Their
exposure of the last fifteen minutes had them feeling vulnerable, their bodies
surging with adrenaline, their nerves rattled.

They calmed themselves, taking deep breathes. Kyle gave a
reassuring smile to Grace, hoping to present confidence. He didn't bother with
James, the man never seemed to rattle.

Along the inner walls of the fort, six feet from the bottom
of the moat, were a line of holes, which passed for windows. Originally used to
fire at invaders from within the walls, they were now barred with steel rods
like a prison. It was these windows they needed to check. They jumped into the
moat on the far left of the drawbridge, close to the majority of encasements
they were using as rooms. They would check there first.

Kyle came to the first window, barely tall enough to see
in. It was a room they hadn't starting using yet, and it lay empty and deserted.
Kyle dropped his head, nodding in the direction of the next window. They had to
move closer to the drawbridge, to the rooms being used.

James reached the next window and slowly brought his head
up in the bottom corner, keeping his face mostly hidden. Kyle saw him squint,
then his eyebrows rose in question. He lowered his head and motioned for Kyle
to take a look.

He did. The room, the encasement he and James shared with Abe,
was empty, but he could see through the open door to the courtyard beyond. He
could make out movement, but barely. He needed a better line of sight. He heard
noises, the loudest being a bellow of a laughter that rolled through the fort. It
wasn't a friendly laugh and wasn't a laugh Kyle knew.

Kyle nodded to the other two, then moved to the next window.
This room was the former recreation for Civil War officers, recently taken over
by Patrick's family. Kyle reached the window first, put his hand up to indicate
he would take a look then, moving slow, brought his eyes above the lip of the
ledge to see into the room. He froze. Standing in the doorframe of the room,
looking out, was a man Kyle didn't know. Worse, he had a gun in his hand, which
dangled at his side. Pressed against the wall, huddled on the floor, were
Patrick's kids. They both had puffy eyes and were clearly scared of the man who
was now laughing at something in the courtyard.

Kyle reigned in his anger and looked past the man into the
courtyard. He could make out people standing in a row. No, not standing. They
had their hands tied behind their back. Somehow, they'd been captured. Someone
walked along the row of his friends, talking to them, then suddenly he hit
someone across the face and Kyle heard a new round of threats, which caused the
rolling laughter of another, this man unseen by Kyle.

Kyle took another minute, forcing himself to capture the
moment in his mind, to gain any details they would need. He didn't want to risk
looking again. Satisfied, he ducked down and made his way back to James and
Grace.

"What's going on?" she asked, "we heard the
laughing. Is that good?"

"Wrong people laughing and for the wrong
reasons," said Kyle and explained the situation to the two of them.

Grace steamed at the treatment of the children, while James'
expression reflected flint, so no change really. Options. They needed options,
but as Kyle reviewed everything he saw, everything he knew about the fort, he
came back down to the only option they had. They needed to climb the wall.

"But how can you climb it?" asked Grace, looking
up at the wall after Kyle told them what needed to be done. "It's so high
and straight up."

"The front gate, it's the only option. It's ten feet
up to the drawbridge and we can reach that. Then another fifteen feet up after
that. We'll make it work." Kyle looked at James. "One of us will have
to deal with the guy holding the kids, then the other one will have to snipe
the others."

"I'll climb," said James.

"I think I'd better do it," said Kyle, knowing
James would volunteer, but for something like this, he wanted to do it himself.

"You can't climb anything Kyle," Grace whispered
forcefully, pointing at his ribs.

"I can climb it."

"No," she said. "I'll deal with the man
holding the kids, then you can both climb the wall. I think it'll take two of
you."

Kyle turned his hardening features on her. "Grace,
what we have to do-"

"I know what needs to be done Kyle, and I can do
it."

Kyle didn't answer. He didn't want her to take a life, but
he knew it was the best option and he doubted if he could stop her without a
fight. It was her choice, not his.

"Okay, but go with us to the front gate, so you can
see our progress, then when we make it to the top, give us five minutes before
you take him out."

She agreed and they moved towards the front gate, walking
through the burned remains of hundreds of diseased they'd dispatched recently.

  Reaching the front gate, Kyle looked up, took a breath
and steeled himself for what they had to do. Kyle, with the rope slung across
his body, squatted in front of the wall, his arms locked straight on his knees,
butt sticking in the air. He straightened his back and tightened his body to
take James' weight.

James didn't hesitate. He stepped on Kyle's thigh, his
large black boot crushing it, then moved onto his back. Kyle, head down,
focused on keeping his body steady as the James climbed on him like a bumbling
gorilla. Kyle grunted as James put his weight on his shoulders. His knees and
thighs shook from the weight of his friend. He didn't have to wait long as
James reached up and grabbed the ledge that was the bottom of the gate. James
latched on with his second hand and, with sheer muscles, pulled himself up on
the narrow ledge.

There used to be an eight foot wide draw bridge that
spanned the gate, but in an effort to pull the draw bridge up, Kyle had Eric
chop it down. Only two foot wide now, James stood in the empty space, with a
closed wooden door behind him.

Kyle leaned up, his body protesting as he came out of the
position it was squashed into. He threw the rope up to James, who caught it and
secured it around his shoulders.

"Here we go, wait until we get up to the top before
you head back, then five minutes," Kyle said to Grace.

"I remember," said Grace, touching his arm.
"Be careful."

"I didn't know you cared," said Kyle with a
smile.

"We don't have time to talk about all the things you
don't know, Kyle. Go."

Kyle smiled, looked up, and started to climb. His ribs
immediately protested the pulling and jostling. The rope wasn't thin, but the
cold of the day and Kyle's weekend body made grabbing the rope and pulling
himself up more difficult than it normally would have been.

"I got you, just walk up the wall," whispered
James, looking down. He didn't seem to be straining at all.

Kyle didn't reply, just put his boot against the rough
brick wall and waited. He felt the pull of the rope, and he allowed it to lift him
the next few feet up the wall. James gave him a hand over the edge, and he
leaned back against the medieval thick door that barred invaders from entering
Macon.

"Did you feel that?" Kyle asked quietly, turning
around.

"What?"

"When I leaned on the door, I felt it move a
little."

Kyle knew he felt it move, but there is no way Eric
wouldn't have locked up. He pushed the thick door and it moved again. Hope
swelled in Kyle's chest. Could it be?

"Help me push," commanded Kyle, "but we
can't make any noise or big movements."

They pushed the gate near the middle where it met its twin
on the other side. The door moved in an inch. Kyle couldn't believe it, Eric
forgot to bolt the door from the inside. No, not Eric. Edmund probably. A
serious security issue, but a gift from heaven right now. They wouldn't have to
climb the wall now.

Kyle bent down and talked as loud as he dared to Grace,
"We can go through here. Go back and give us five minutes."

She gave him a thumbs up and took off, disappearing around
the curvature of the moat.

"Okay," Kyle said, talking close to James' ear.
"When we make it through there, we wait for the shot and then take out
whoever we need to. Play it by ear."

It was a terrible plan. Kyle knew it, but he'd heard more
than one grunt of pain and wasn't willing to wait any longer. They had surprise
on their side, he counted on it to be enough.

Side by side, they pushed the door, every squeak causing
them to freeze. Uninterrupted noises still came from inside the courtyard:
talking, course laughing and the smack of someone being beaten. The door opened
six inches before they stopped pushing. Kyle knew he'd never make it thought
there with all his equipment on, so he stripped his gun belt and took off his
rifle.

Handing his equipment to James, he squeezed through the
opening, taking his time and going slow. The inside of the gate led to a
fifteen foot long Sally Port. Basically, a big tunnel. Kyle moved quickly in
the dark tunnel, taking his things back from James, then taking James' gun belt
and rifle and pushing himself against the wall, where the shadows were darkest.

The tension had Kyle ready to spring forward, ready to have
this over, ready to make sure his brother was safe. He took a moment to
question his reason for his decision making and actions. He decided he'd do it
for any of his friends, but he couldn't overlook the fact that his brother was
in there.

A loud creak sounded, and it brought his attention back to
James and the gate faster than whiplash. James, too big for the opening, had
moved it another inch to get through and this time, the creak was loud.

Kyle held his hand up and dropped further into the shadow. He
raised his rifle, waiting. Nothing. They hadn't heard the noise, or chose to
ignore it. No sound of running or yells of an intruder came from the courtyard.
Lucky again, maybe this would go down without a hitch. Kyle gave a nod to
James, who moved over to him, reclaiming his rifle and gun belt.

Quietly, moving next to the wall, they went down the tunnel.
The scene in the courtyard becoming clearer as they saw more of it. There
looked to be only three of them in total. Bikers. But there were also bikers
tied up, one next to Abe, who had taken a major beating.

Kyle and James moved closer to the end of the tunnel, both
ready with their rifles, waiting for Grace to get the ball rolling.

In the end, one of his tied up friends started things off. Someone
had seen them lurking in the shadows of the wall, and reacted. The smaller bald
man had seen the euphoric expression that didn't belong and turned to find two
armed men directly behind him. A shot saved them.

Instinctively, both James and Kyle looked towards the
directions of the shot. The biker, whom Kyle had seen earlier, flopped to the
ground, a bloody hole through his neck.

Good shot.

  Kyle turned back to find the bald biker who'd seen them
dart around his brother, hiding his form competently. Kyle cursed at his
decision to lose his objective in the middle of an operation. The man took
advantage and now had cover. His brother. Worse, the bald man put a silver
blade right next to his brother's side, almost hiding his head in the process. Everyone
froze.

Kyle felt James to the left of him, while also to his left,
in front of James, was the other biker. A hair covered goliath who only carried
a ferocious looking knife and didn't seem to be in the least frightened at the
turn of events. James could deal with that, he needed to get the bald coward.

Kyle dropped to his knee to better support his firing
position, not more than twenty feet from the line where his friends were tied
up at. He aimed his rifle slightly to the left of his brother, whom Kyle
refused to look at, not wanting to lose focus.

 Kyle called out, "It's over. Drop your weapons and
come out." It seemed clichéd even to his own ears, but it was tried and
true.

"You must be the brother, the academic. I admit, I
pictured you a little differently in my head. As to dropping our weapons, I'm
not sure that's to our advantage."

"Drop them now and I promise … what the hell? "While
not taking his eyes from Dave a second time, Kyle noticed James walking towards
the other biker and he didn't think he was carrying his rifle anymore.

***

James listened to Kyle telling the small biker to drop his
guns and almost snorted in amusement at the line. He'd heard the line so many
times growing up, it almost seemed like a homecoming. No. These two weren't
going to just give up. James eyed the man in front of him. He'd never had to
deal with the biker type before, not many of them in the hood, but if there
seemed to be a nemeses for him, it was this guy. A towering, white, ignorant
biker.