Whatever It Takes (13 page)

“Has anyone else come in?” Percival asked.

Karl shook his head.

“Bernard saw them being taken around a corner to the building opposite this one.” Roy Joy chewed on the corner of one finger, studied it, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Not the inspection building either.”

“Thanks, Roy Joy.” Percival turned to leave the room.

“Where’re you going?” Karl asked.

“To save my friend. I’m not ‘too old’ to do it.”

“You should at least scavenge a weapon from here.” Karl gestured around himself with the pistol.

“Here,” Roy Joy said. He’d gone off and collected Percival’s motorcycle helmet for Percival.

Percival accepted the helmet and tugged it on. “I’m good to go, Karl.”

Percival let Karl take point. The older man refused to give up his newly acquired pistol, and Percival wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to pull the trigger if a living person was in front of the barrel.

The sky overhead had become cloudy again, and seemed threatening of rain. It also meant that the depot was now lit primarily via large overhead lights. It provided plenty of shadows to sneak through.

Karl led them through the early night to the hard corner of the barracks building. He paused there and studied something Percival couldn’t see. After a few moments of waiting, Karl led them around the corner and across the yard to a building Percival had yet to enter.

He crept past a light quickly and stopped at the door.

“What’s inside?” Karl asked.

“You’re on point,” Percival answered. He moved up beside the old teacher and rose just high enough to peek inside. Through the window he saw a shelf with boxes stacked up that obscured his view. He twisted and turned and found that he couldn’t get a better view.

“Lights’re on inside, but there’s shelves of boxes in the way. I can’t see anything past ‘em.”

“You won’t either.” A man said as he stepped from the shadows into the cone of light thrown down around the door. He was tall and slender and dressed in a black priest’s jacket and black slacks. A white priest’s collar stood out starkly against the black clothes. He had short cropped black hair and cold blue eyes.

“This is the building they have ‘fun’ in,” the man continued, “They brought Slayer here once. She broke the big man’s nose.”

“You must be Morrbid.” Sarah moved up beside Percival.

“I prefer ‘Father Kaufman.’ Though I won’t turn down the title bestowed on me by my flock,” Morrbid said quietly. His face suddenly broke into a wide Cheshire Cat grin.

Percival found the look ever so slightly disconcerting.

“Are we ‘bout to go crack a head or two?” Morrbid’s voice rose slightly in volume. He produced a baseball bat from behind his back.

“Right,” Percival said slowly. He rose to his full height and watched Morrbid bounce for a moment before calming down.

“Mind if I lead the way?”

Karl backed away from the door. “Don’t let us stop you.”

Morrbid set his hand on the latch and looked to Percival. “Can Slayer and I join y’all when y’all blow this joint?”

“Maybe. We’ll talk about it later,” Percival answered.

“Good ‘nough for me.” Morrbid pulled the door open and moved inside.

Percival followed him. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to see what Morrbid intended to do with the bat, but jogged to keep up anyways.

Morrbid led the group down the row of shelves and around a corner to a little ‘room’ made from the shelving. In the middle of the room were Ronald and another man Percival hadn’t met yet. Andrina was on a mattress, eyes puffy and red. She was in a slight state of undress.

Time seemed to slow. Morrbid strode forward as Ronald finally seemed to notice that they weren’t alone. Ronald’s hand moved slowly toward his holstered pistol. Morrbid walked forward and squared into a batter’s stance for all of a second before he swung the bat expertly and solidly into Ronald’s head.

The bat rang lightly of metal and Ronald’s head crumpled slightly with a crunch as Morrbid started whistling. The other man stared in horror for a moment before turning and scrambling for his rifle that was propped against the shelves nearby.

Percival could feel his stomach churn for a moment before he reacted. He sprinted across the makeshift room and slammed his shoulder into the man’s side as he turned to bring the rifle to bear. He slammed his hand under the rifle’s barrel and shoved it up.

A shot rang out and was immediately followed by the sound of a ricochet. Percival drove a short punch into the man’s ribs and fought to take the rifle from him.

Sharp pain spread from Percival’s groin, and he let out a gasp as the other man’s knee rose between his legs. Percival wanted to hold onto the rifle for longer. He wanted to continue to fight. His body didn’t seem to want to listen, however.

His grip slackened and his knees went weak. Percival felt nauseous and slumped to the side. One hand held his throbbing groin, the other quickly undid his helmet. Behind him he heard the crunch of the metal bat against the man’s soft, fleshy head. Percival then felt the splatter hit his jacket and it, combined with the throbbing pain, was enough to turn his stomach.

He retched once, then threw up onto the floor, his vomit splattering wetly on the concrete.

Percival gasped for breath, scrubbing his mouth with the back of his hand. He still felt ill, but the pain was subsiding. He pushed himself up from the crouched position he had been in and looked around.

Roy Joy was helping Andrina up with Sarah. Morrbid was patiently cleaning the end of his bat with Ronald’s shirt. Karl was policing the weapons.

Percival sucked in a couple quick breaths and did his best not to look at the corpses with caved in heads. He knew they looked no different from zombies. The skin color of Ronald drained away quickly with blood pooling around his demolished head.

Percival accepted, almost without thinking, the shotgun that was thrust in front of him. He turned the gun over in his hands.

“Is it loaded?” Percival thought his voice sounded detached and distant. He wanted to ask Morrbid why he’d killed both men, but suspected the answer would be ‘just because.’ The man struck Percival as unstable, at best, and psychotic at worst.

“Yeah.” Karl held out a small satchel for Percival to take.

“Shells?”

Karl nodded. He carried the rifle to Sarah.

Percival slung the satchel and pulled his helmet back on. He was glad that he’d gotten it off before throwing up.

“I thought killin’ was against the rules?” Sarah asked. She was checking the magazine on her rifle.

“It is. ‘Thou shalt not kill’ is His sixth commandment. However, I am of the firm belief that either He has abandoned us or He doesn’t exist to begin with. And either way, it means His commandments don’t exactly hold much sway any longer.” Morrbid threw Ronald’s shirt back down onto him. “The only commandment I’m willin’ to continue to follow is ‘keep me and mine alive.’”

“I don’t think that’s a commandment.” Roy Joy had one arm across Andrina’s shoulders, helping her stand.

“It’s one of my own. These guys aren’t here to protect anyone. They’re here to spread their seed an’ filth around.” Morrbid kicked the second man’s corpse for emphasis.

“I don’t think they deserved to die.” Percival shouldered the shotgun. “We’re in need of help, that’s for sure. I’m not sure you’re the best choice, however.”

“You’re naïve, boy.” Morrbid walked toward the gap in the shelves that served as a doorway. He had his bat up on his shoulder. He stopped at the gap and looked back at them.

“Look, they locked you up for scratches on your knuckles. They were going to shoot the other two if they caused trouble over it. Only reason they didn’t shoot me is ‘cause I hadn’t caused trouble ‘til now. Y’all are lucky. Me an’ mine’re down to just me an’ Slayer. I envy you. Really, I do. You’re all still alive.”

Morrbid turned and left the room.

Percival looked at Sarah.

She shrugged and shouldered her rifle.

It wasn’t the response Percival had wanted to get from her. He wanted some sort of hint as to what he should do in this situation. Morrbid was clearly better versed in the local lore than Percival was. He sighed.

“Karl, Sarah, follow him to the door. I don’t like these faux military people and it seems he and Jessica have at least a decent handle on things here, and themselves.” Percival walked to Roy Joy and Andrina.

“Sure,” Karl said.

“I don’t know if that’s wise,” Sarah muttered.

“Didn’t say we’d bring them with us, but we do have some obligation to helping them get away from here.” Percival turned away from Sarah and faced Andrina. “Are you okay?”

Andrina looked at him. Her eyes were still red and puffy, but the tears that had streaked her cheeks a few minutes earlier were gone.

“They.” Andrina coughed and cleared her throat before starting again. “They did horrid things to me, Mister Polz. But I will be fine.”

“I’m very—“ Percival was cut off by Andrina’s hand slapping across his face.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Andrina said. “This wasn’t your fault. You haven’t lost my faith or my support. Do you understand?”

Percival nodded slowly. He couldn’t have asked for better words. “Thank you, Andrina.”

She just nodded.

“Roy Joy, protect her. She’s a valuable member of our team.” Percival turned and moved through the gap in the shelves. He walked toward the door to exit the building.

The sound of gunfire and shouting made him pick up the pace. He found Sarah crouched to one side of the door and Karl crouched on the other side. Morrbid wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

Floodlights outside made a cluster of bullet holes in the door extremely obvious.

“What the fuck happened and where’s Morrbid?” Percival dropped to a crouch and walked up to Sarah.

“They heard the shot from earlier and came to check it out. We practically bumped into each other. They shot at us, we didn’t shoot back. I don’t think anyone was hit,” Karl muttered quietly.

“And Morrbid?” Percival asked again.

“He said he wanted a better view and was going to visit the roof.” Sarah looked over her shoulder at him.

“Which way did he go?” Percival held the shotgun out for Sarah to take. “Give me the rifle.”

“Why?” Sarah took the shotgun and held the rifle out anyways.

“I’m going to find the roof access.” Percival didn’t entirely know what he was going to do once he followed Morrbid up to the roof yet, but he did know that he wanted to go that route regardless. He traded the rifle for his satchel of shells. “Can I have the extra magazine as well?”

“Since you asked so nicely.” Sarah pulled the magazine for the rifle out of her pocket and pressed it into his hand. “Don’t do something stupid that you’ll regret later.”

“I promise I won’t.” Percival dashed across the door and past Karl. He wandered the pathways created by shelves for what seemed like minutes before he finally came to a ladder. He slung the rifle and climbed up the ladder. He pushed open a latch and crawled out onto the roof.

He could see Morrbid’s outline against the otherwise flat edges of the roof. Percival crept low and walked across the roof toward Morrbid. When he got closer to the edge he readied the rifle and dropped to a crawl.

“Do you intend to use that?” Morrbid whispered as Percival got to the edge. “It’s not the same as shooting zombies. Have you killed anyone before?”

Percival was silent for a long moment as he surveyed the scene before him. Half a dozen men were arrayed around the door. Most of them were clustered behind a Humvee. Most of them had good cover from the door, but horrible cover from Percival and Morrbid.

“I’ve gotten two people killed,” Percival said.

“Not the same. If you can’t shoot to kill here, they’re going to shoot to kill you. You need to be fast and efficient.” Morrbid pointed out toward one man in particular. “He’s their leader. Strike him down first. If you can’t pull the trigger, give me the rifle and I will.”

“I can do it.” Percival took a breath and brought the rifle up. He held his breath and sighted down the iron sights.

The man who Morrbid had pointed at turned to face the building. He was shouting orders that Percival couldn’t quite make out. It was Pete.

“Breath. Your shot won’t be steady otherwise.”

Percival let out the breath he’d been holding. He lined up the iron sights once more and slowly squeezed the trigger. A crack of thunder announced the start of the storm.

The rifle kicked against Percival’s shoulder as cold rain dropped hard out of the heavens. It was a sudden downpour to drench away his regrets against taking the life of the self-proclaimed colonel. He lined up the iron-sights again and squeezed the trigger to put a second bullet into the leader before swiftly swinging the rifle to bear on the now confused and startled men.

He squeezed the trigger as he aimed. Each gentle pull came easier and easier. A second man’s head bloomed red that was quickly washed away in the downpour. Percival brought the gun to bear on a third man.

He squeezed the trigger and a bullet tore through the man’s throat. He tumbled to the ground with one hand feebly trying to stop the flow of blood, while the other pointed out Percival’s position. He hit the muddy ground and didn’t move.

The other three men took to shooting the rooftop.

“Shit,” Percival muttered. He backed away quickly as bullets ricocheted off the metal edge where he’d been shooting from.

“Mighty fine shooting.” Morrbid appeared at Percival’s side from the slashing rain. “Maybe you’re not as innocent or naïve as I originally thought.”

“Shut up.” Percival felt sick to his stomach. He pushed past the former priest and yanked the hatch to the ladder leading down open. The storm washed out any gunfire and he wasn’t sure that the firefight was continuing. He did know that he was done ‘sniping’ for the moment.