THEM (Season 1): Episode 4 (6 page)

I was already moving as the creature attacked. Although it was much faster than me, there was almost no lag time between the moment it made its move and my body’s response. As it leapt at me through the air, I parried a clawing attack with the knife, pivoted, and struck twice at its neck with a redondo motion from Filipino
arnis
. I felt the battlehawk make contact and bite deep with each strike as my motion followed it through the air.

I continued my pivot and tracked the vamp’s path as it landed and rolled up to face me, noting that the thing’s head was cocked off at a severe angle, lolling about bloodlessly in a gruesome yet satisfying manner. I’d managed to partially sever its head from its neck, and it screeched at me in angry defiance that I’d managed to hurt it in such fashion.

At that moment, something snapped in me and I charged in, slashing and weaving the axe and the big knife in the deadly pattern known as
sinawali
. This momentarily seemed to confuse the nos’. It cringed and actually cowered from me, taking one… two… three cuts and slashes on its forearms as it backpedaled. I continued to press the attack, hooking its left arm down to expose its neck and ending the confrontation with a single forehand chop that severed its head from its shoulders. The thing flopped a few times on the alley floor, then was still.

I spun and scanned my flanks, left, then right, moving in a circle to look for other threats. There were none. Deaders tended to steer clear of nos’ types, and their presence usually meant you wouldn’t have to deal with Z’s, not for hours after their passing. I was breathing hard, not from exertion but from exhilaration. I consciously made an effort to slow my breathing, and then reviewed the previous 20 seconds or so in my mind.

Three things stood out to me. One, while I did get caught with a swipe of the thing’s claws across my arm, I hadn’t noticed it during the fight. Call it bloodlust or whatever, but I didn’t feel anything when it happened. That could be a liability at some point, but it’d worked to my favor tonight. I’d need to pay closer attention in the future, figure out what survival mechanism or instinct was triggered by the Doc’s serum and treatments, and learn to control it.

Two, even though I was physically not as strong or as fast as the nos’, I made up for it in reaction speed. I hadn’t noticed any lag time between threat recognition and my own reaction. In a fight, milliseconds count. That trick alone might help me even the odds with the ’thropes. Maybe.

And three, something inside me, some new instinct or drive, had made me want to confront that nos’. It had to be a side effect of the treatments, and that could also be a liability. It was something I’d definitely have to discuss with the Doc, if we ever came back from the Corridor. Considering that witch told me there were no side effects to the serum treatments, I’d say it was most certainly going to come up in conversation.

I was snapped out of my introspection by light footsteps approaching rapidly from the direction of the safe house. I recognized the sound and cadence of both Bobby’s and Gabby’s gaits, but I ignored them as they approached, opting to take a moment to carve a Roman numeral into the thing’s chest. Neither said a word as I lifted the corpse and heaved it into the dumpster. They continued to watch silently as I grabbed the head and tossed it on top of the low roof next to us. I turned to them and saw a mixed look of awe and surprise on Bobby’s face and a look of concern on Gabby’s. She shook her head, and headed back in the direction of the safe house without saying a word. Bobby waited for me to follow her, then padded along silently behind me.

The pain started as soon as the adrenaline wore off. Once more, I experienced shooting pains from the site of the Z bite, all the way up my arm and into my chest this time. I had to pause and lean against a building while waving Bobby off at the same time. “I’m fine,” I whispered almost silently, but loud enough so that his sensitive ears could hear me.

“You’re anything but, boss,” he whispered back. “Taking on that nos’ by yourself was foolish.” He paused and shook his head. “And I’ll tell you something: I said you had alpha written all over you, and now I know it’s true. What you did back there looked like something a pack leader would do, facing down a threat to the pack. The only difference is, a real pack leader would’ve had his pack at his back.”

I took a deep breath and pushed off the wall. The pains were subsiding, but I’d be lying if I wasn’t worried that they seemed to be spreading. Intensity-wise, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the first time, but the pains had definitely radiated further than last time. For the sake of appearances I shrugged it off, knowing I’d need to check the wound site once I had some privacy. I chuckled quietly, trying to make light of it. “Well, nothing to do about it now. Let’s go, and not a word of this to Gabby.”

Bobby nodded and looked down at the ground. I chose to ignore his concern and led the way back to the safe house. By this time someone would have noticed Pancho was gone, and while it was doubtful they’d send out searchers in the middle of the night, come morning they’d damned sure be looking. That only gave us a few hours to interrogate him and boogie.

As I approached our temporary safe house I noted the improvements the last tenant had made with admiration. The bottom floor of the house was buttoned up tight; whoever had occupied this place must’ve held out for some time here. There were scratch marks on the plywood over the windows and doors, some deep, and plenty of bloodstains and patches of dried goo on the sidewalk and front porch. I figured whoever it was had been killing Z’s for sport, or to relieve the boredom, or whatever. Not a good idea. The more noise, the more movement, the more you attracted Them to you. Probably what had done these folks in, in the end. Or maybe they had gotten out after all, but I doubted it.

We climbed on the front porch roof, then up a makeshift ladder made of short lengths of two-by-fours that were attached to the wood siding with screws. Up on the roof there was a thick plywood door hidden under a ventilation louver that led to an attic space where the previous tenants had set up their safe house. Not much in the way of comfort, but secure from deaders. Maybe not from a determined rev, and definitely not from a nos’, but it’d do. I doubted that another nos’ would show up tonight, though. They were territorial, and I’d offed the local baddie; it’d be a while before another showed up to take its place and fill the void left by the one I’d beheaded.

Once we got in, I saw that Gabby had made our guest comfortable by stringing him up from the roof by his wrists with paracord. How she’d managed to do that by herself was beyond me—little shit must be stronger than she was letting on. The ropes looked pretty tight. I couldn’t give a damn at this point, since he’d been a pain in my ass for way too long now.

Earlier we’d made sure that the place was blacked out so no light could escape. As dark as it was at night without electricity, even a single peephole leaking light to the outside would shine like a beacon to all and sundry. Truth be told, I didn’t really need light for what I was about to do, nor did Gabby and Bobby, but I wanted our captive to see our faces so he’d know who he was dealing with. I pulled my LED light out of my bag and flipped the switch.

Pancho blinked several times as the world around him brightened into focus. He looked around, saw Gabby’s face first, and his eyes brightened a little. Then he took in Bobby, and lastly me. That’s when his face got serious; I could see the skin around his eyes tighten, and his expression went flat. He recognized me. I killed his brother and cousin, after all; it didn’t surprise me in the least that he did.

I stepped up closer and stopped about two feet from his face. “You remember me. Yeah, I figured you might, considering what went down the last few times we met.” I detected a slight facial tick at that last remark. So, I was right. I pulled out my tomahawk and used the spike to hook a corner of his gag. “Now, I have some questions for you, and I want to know if I can trust you to cooperate.” His eyes narrowed. “No? Well then, let me be clear: I am not the biggest threat to you in this room.”

His eyes darted to Gabby, and I could hear him chuckle through his gag. “Nope, not her, although she is wicked good with a knife, and I’m sure she’d carve you up like a ham if I let her.” He glanced over at Bobby and rolled his eyes.

I smiled. “Bobby, shift.”

I tried to keep a straight face as Bobby took off his shirt and shorts in front of us. Gabby blushed and turned her head; I hadn’t thought about the kid needing to undress before I spoke. That’s what I got for ad-libbing, I suppose. I flicked my eyes back to Pancho’s face, and heard a distinct series of pops and ripping noises behind me. I didn’t need to see Bobby shift to know we had Pancho scared shitless. He immediately started squirming and twisting, trying his damnedest to get as far away from the kid as he could.

Bobby, to his credit, knew how to make an impression. He dropped to all fours and stalked over to where Pancho was hanging, sniffed once at him, then placed his clawed hands on Pancho’s chest and growled right in his face. Pancho screwed his eyes shut and turned his head away. It was obvious he was scared shitless. His heart was beating out of his chest and his breathing was rapid and shallow. He actually whimpered, and at that I nodded for Bobby to back off. With one last growl he did as I asked, winking at me as he slunk away.
Show off.

I turned to Pancho and crossed my arms. “Now, do we have an understanding?” He nodded vigorously, greasy hair flopping in loose sweaty strands up and down and in his face. I sheathed my tomahawk and reached up with a single finger and thumb to remove his gag. Time to play good cop.

Pancho heaved a short breath out and his chest shuddered like a child who’d been crying too long. He may have actually been on the verge of tears, but he was already composing himself, or making a decent enough show of it. “Shit, man, you didn’t have to call your dog on me.” Bobby growled and lunged at him, and Gabby made a show of holding him back.
Nice one, kid.

Pancho cringed and whispered, “Hey, man, I didn’t mean nuthin’ by it, honest! It’s just that I seen what these things can do to a man, and I’m not ready to go down that way. Uh-uh.” He turned his head away from the wall, still wincing after Bobby’s lunge. “You ain’t gonna let him eat me, are you? I mean, if I cooperate?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, Pancho. He hasn’t eaten much in a few days. I’d try to avoid offending him.”

Pancho’s eyes grew wide. “I’ll talk! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you whatever, man, just don’t let him eat me, please. Shoot me if you have to, but don’t let him eat me alive.” His voice trailed off and his head slumped to his chest. Softly, he continued. “Please.”

Yep, that broke him all right, big man or no. I sent Bobby and Gabby to the other side of the attic and started asking questions. We’d need to be out of here an hour before dawn, and I didn’t think there was much time left to get the info I needed. Without further discourse, I let Pancho spill the beans.

Once Pancho started talking, it was hard to shut him up. Turns out him and a bunch of sorry-ass punters were working for the Corridor pack, bringing them slaves to work on some compound they had in North Austin. This explained why he’d been loaded with silver-tipped rounds when he shot Gabby; you’d have to be a fool to be within ten miles of a ’thrope and not be carrying silver rounds. It also corroborated what Bobby had told me about the compound he remembered visiting. I had a suspicion Pancho could lead me to the settlers and Kara, so I squeezed him for all the details I could. He explained that the wolves were working with at least one vamp on a secret project in some lab. Pancho mentioned a college campus, which had me curious.

“Are they at the community college?”

He shook his head. “No, man, someplace that was owned by the university. Piece of shit tea-sippers, who knows what they were doing there before the War. Probably some communist shit.” I had to stifle a laugh; Pancho must’ve been an Aggie football fan before the War. No one else referred to students at the state university as tea-sippers. It wasn’t like any of that mattered now, though. I tuned in to what he was saying as he continued. “I can show you on a map if you got one, but you’ll have to cut me down.”

I tilted my head. “You know it goes without saying that if you make one wrong move, the wolf is going to rip your guts out and eat them slowly while you watch and scream.”

Pancho shook his head. “No, man, no way, no how—I ain’t gonna give you no trouble. Just please cut me down, I can’t feel my hands at all.”

I did as he asked, and dumped him on the floor. He sat there rubbing his hands together, which looked pretty funny since they weren’t doing anything he was asking of them. I reached into my ruck and pulled out a laminated map of Austin, unfolding it and laying it out on the floor in front of the LED light.

Pancho crawled over and started looking over the map, focusing on an area that was just north of the intersection of Highway 183 and the MoPac Expressway. “It’s somewhere right near that fancy shopping center they put in a few years before the bombs fell.” He pointed with his deadened fingers to a spot on the map. “There, at that Pickle place.”

I looked at where he pointed. It was the old research campus for the state university.
Great, right in deader central,
I reflected. There had been a lot of people living in that area before the War, so it was full of apartment complexes with a mix of light industrial office buildings and shopping centers to boot. We’d be in for a helluva trip just getting there.

Pancho continued. “They have that whole place fenced off, and they’re using some apartments over here to house all the slave workers.” He pointed at a spot just north of the research campus. “The entire area is pretty much fenced or walled off from deaders. Pretty sweet setup, actually. Good place to get laid, if you know what I mean.” I cocked an eye at him, so he elaborated. “Slave girls—they’ll do anything not to get fed to the wolves.” He snickered until he saw the look on my face, and then clammed up fast.

It was all I could do not to deck him, but I had to keep it cool so I could get more intel. I stuffed my disgust down deep where it could fester, and pointed to an area across the expressway. “What about this area? Any wolf activity there?”

He shook his head. “Nope, nuthin’. Just a bunch of old office buildings that are full of deaders. Plus, I’m pretty sure there are some vamps that live in the upper floors. I think they pull security or somethin’ around the place. That pretty boy vamp they got working in that lab orders them around, I think.”

I thumbed the stubble on my chin. “Hmmm… tell me about him.”

Pancho sat back on his haunches and rubbed his hands, which flopped around like day-old hot dogs. He shrugged. “Don’t know much about him. ’Cept he ain’t like no vamp I ever seen before. For one, he looks like you and me, only pretty, like a Hollywood actor or sumthin’. You know, like that James Bond guy.”

“You mean Daniel Craig?”

“No, not that guy, the other one. Kind of wimpy and skinny.”

I nodded. “Ah, Pierce Brosnan.”

Pancho nodded vigorously and gesticulated with his limp hot dog fingers. “Yeah, that’s the one! He’s like that, kind of pretty and just too damn good-lookin’—I mean, if you were into guys. I’m not, but if you were.”

I just stared at him.

“Because, you know, I’m not queer or anything.” He paused with a worried look on his face. “You ain’t queer, is ya? Cuz’, there’s nuthin’ wrong with that, man! I mean, I get it, it’s a free country, I mean free-er than it’s ever been. Do your thing, ya know?”

I decided to ignore his prattling and move on. “So what’s this vamp’s role at the lab? Do you know why he’s there?”

Pancho paused, and his brow furrowed. “Well, let’s see. I can’t think of anything in particular that anyone said—’course they don’t let us in on much, so long as we deliver the goods to them.” He raised a finger, which immediately wilted to half-mast. “But I can tell you this, he helps keep the slaves under control. I seen him put the hoodoo on some of the slaves, more than once.”

That reminded me of something Bernie and Marge had told me about a vamp that helped abduct the settlers from the Canyon Lake outpost. “Go on.”

Pancho wiped his brow. “Well, he does this thing with his eyes, sort of like a snake charmer, or some voodoo or somethin’. I cain’t describe it, it’s just that when he does it, whoever he does it to just does whatever he says.”

That could be a problem. As if we didn’t have enough problems with the Pack. “Alright, so he hypnotizes people. What else can you tell me about him? Is he like a nos’, fast and strong?”

Pancho shook his head. “Never seen him fight. All I know is, the wolves all steer clear of him, ’cept that main wolf, Van.”

So, the wolves deferred to the vamp. Interesting. “Tell me about this Van character.”

Pancho let out a low whistle. “He’s heavy duty, man, and not someone to be lightly screwed with, if you know what I mean. I seen him behead another wolf who challenged him, with just one swipe of his claws. He always deals fair with us though, and pays exactly what he promises.”

I squinted at him and tapped my fingers on my ’hawk. “Which would be…?”

Pancho hemmed and hawed. “Oh, you know. Ammo. Girls. Booze. Whatever. He, um, well…he pays good for slaves, alright? I know you don’t approve, but it’s a different world now, and folks gotta do what they can to survive.”

I shook my head. “They don’t have to prey on innocent people, Pancho.” He seemed unfazed by my statement, and I was quickly losing my patience for this piece of sewer scum. I decided to continue before I lost it completely. “Tell me about how you get through the city without pulling an army of undead down on you. North Austin has to be full of deaders. How do you get to the compound without getting eaten?”