Z 2136 (Z 2134 Series Book 3) (16 page)

Sutherland had been palming his shiv for hours, waiting for the moment when one of the two cowards—or any of their followers—opened his door. There would be no waiting or waffling.

His hands were still bound, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t need them to free himself. He would end his captors and storm from the cell.

No one would stop him…

No one came.

For hours Sutherland expected the door to open, and for hours stayed tense, ready to spring into action the moment the door dragged against the floor.

But nothing happened. The door didn’t open and no one came in.

It must be morning, or close. And something must be wrong with him. He was usually good at accounting for the passage of time, but minutes and hours had jumbled their meanings.

He may have lost a day.

Eventually, Sutherland fell asleep, still imagining the shard of plate dragging across a freshly made seam to spill a bucket of blood to the floor, laughing because his captors were too stupid to see the missing piece from the shattered refuse.

He woke as the door opened, instantly angry that he’d been caught off-guard despite his best intentions. He palmed the shard tighter, feeling it bite into flesh, like it would soon be biting into theirs.

He turned toward the intruders: Horrance and two others. Sutherland knew their names, Finch and Wormwood. Good men, if not turned. If they had been, their blood would spill as thick as the rest. Wormwood and Finch were both older, and had nobly fought in The Battle of ’32. Sutherland wanted to believe that older meant wiser, and that the pair of battle tested soldiers—along with the giant—could easily see Gallus’s folly.

“My men!” Sutherland greeted them, hoping that they were that.

“Sutherland,” Horrance nodded at his leader with understanding eyes. The other men joined him and swelled Sutherland’s hope.

“Good to see you,” he said, but continued to palm his homemade weapon, just in case.

“And you,” Horrance said.

Boldly, Sutherland asked, “Are you here to free me?” After a too long pause he added, “We can go now, arrest the traitors. Everything will be back to normal by morning.”

Finch stepped in front of Horrance, between him and Sutherland’s cot. “We can’t. It will never work.”

“Why not?”

Of course it would work, unless you’re all cowards.

“Because,” Wormwood cut in. “There aren’t enough people who … there aren’t enough supporters left in Hydrangea.”

“Impossible.” Sutherland refused to believe.

“Gallus has turned everyone,” Horrance said.

“That’s impossible,” Sutherland repeated. “How could he turn everyone? Surely, the world hasn’t gone stupid?”

“If you go out there, they’ll kill you.” Finch nodded toward the closed cell door. “Right now you’ve got 1,600 pissed off people, all of them think that you’re the problem--and have been for a long time.”

“That’s absurd.”

Finch kept going. “They think that Jeffries can help. They think he’ll be able to fix what they see as broken.”

Sutherland couldn’t speak. The weight of the possible truth was too much. He swallowed, searching for words, then stood from the bed and found Horrance’s eyes.

Finally, he asked, “Is it true, Horrance? Is Gallus right? Am I so out of touch? Have I truly lost it?”

“No.” Wormwood, the strongest—and smartest—of the three stepped to the front and vigorously shook his head. “Gallus is wrong like a zombie. You’re the one in Hydrangea with the balls to do what must be done. Most of the folks here are babes still on the tit, they can’t fathom doing what’s right when it’s hard. Sure, they’ll nod when talking, but when it’s time to wet their brow with the sweat of what’s necessary, like you’ve said, they’ll turn and run. They can’t do what you done to City 1, but what you done to City 1 was right as one moon a month.”

Horrance came up to Sutherland, gestured for him to hold up his hands—it was only then that he dropped the shard—then fumbled with several keys until he found one that worked. The shackles came off and Sutherland rubbed his wrists, soothing their burn.

“Well then, gentlemen, what in the hell am I supposed to do?”

Wormwood said, “We can help you escape. We have another five guys still sworn to do what’s right. That means serving you, and right now helping you escape. We’ll get you out of here for sure.”

“Then what? Where would I go?”

“The train station,” Horrance said. “Where Ana is.”

Sutherland brightened, for the first time since lowering the lid on his tools of torture, which seemed like an eternity ago. “Think we can take it?”

“Sure thing,” Finch nodded. “Easiest thing in the world, so long as we did what we done to City 1. Can you still get your hands on more of the zombie gas?”

“Can you get me to the science lab?”

Horrance nodded. “I think so.”

“Then what’s right,” Sutherland smiled wider, “can still be done.”

Horrance and Sutherland walked down the hallway on their way to the science lab. After allowing Sutherland to rub the burn from his wrists, Horrance apologized and said he had to replace them, for appearances’ sake. But they weren’t locked, so as Sutherland walked with both hands clasped and dangled before him, he kept imagining the moment when he would shake them off, grab the shiv that was now in his pocket, and end whoever stood in his way.

They descended two floors, then turned three corners down one long hallway until they were on the final approach to the lab. There, two men stood guard, one on either side of the door.

The first guard stepped forward and held up a hand. “What is he doing here?”

Horrance said, “Gallus asked me to bring him to the lab for a test.”

“Test? I didn’t hear anything about that.” The guard looked them up and down. “What sort of test? It’s the middle of the night.”

The guard turned and called to his partner, “Hey, you hear anything about—”

The man’s words were cut short by the shiv in his back. Sutherland started to laugh as he shoved up and twisted.

Horrance fired his blaster at the other guard, dropping the man before he could signal for help.

Then together, the two men rushed into the lab.

Sutherland and Horrance hefted the four black bags onto the service elevator where Finch was waiting.

“Good lord,” Finch said. “I suspected you may have held back some, but not this much.”

“Just because the other camps stopped fighting doesn’t mean the war is over. There are still six Cities standing, last time I looked. The State barely skipped a beat. It’s time to take them down, once and for all.”

Finch smiled. He’d lost his brother and sister in a State raid when they were escaping City 3. He knew exactly what they were fighting for. “And what about the antidote? Do you have enough?”

“Enough to spare those that deserve to be spared. Enough to start over and do things right.”

“Good,” Finch said.

They stepped into the elevator. Wormwood was about to press the button marked Garage, when Sutherland told him to wait.

“Are our people out?”

“Yes, they’re waiting on the surface. They’ve taken out the guards in the garage and are ready to take us away.”

“Good. Go to Level 7.”

“Civilian Living quarters? Why?” Wormwood asked, even as he pressed the button marked 7.

“Hydrangea is now as complicit as The State. I made the mistake of leniency, and ignoring the cancer as it spread under my roof. I can’t allow it to go any further.”

“What are you going to do?” Wormwood asked.

Sutherland watched as the elevator approached the seventh floor, then slammed his thumb on the Stop button, reached into one of the bags, and withdrew four gas masks.

“I suggest you put these on.”

“Are you sure about this?” Horrance asked. “I mean, aren’t there kids and stuff?”

“Are we at war, gentlemen? Besides, I’ve never known a child to stop growing.”

Finch nodded as he fastened the mask to his face.

Horrance looked uncertain. If Wormwood wore a smile or grimace, he was too ugly to tell.

Sutherland said, “If we don’t wipe them out now, they’ll hunt us like animals. You’re heroes, but they’ll see you as traitors for helping. We strike now. It’s our only chance.”

“I don’t know,” Horrance said.

Sutherland grabbed the man’s mask and pulled him closer. “You think these people are worth saving? You’ve heard the names these people … the kids too … have called you, right? Freak. Misfit. Mutant. Do you really want to spare their lives?”

“Okay.” Horrance looked down, as if ashamed. “Let’s do it.”

“No, you don’t need to help. I’ve got this.”

Sutherland withdrew a canister of the gas, and pushed the button to continue his trip to the seventh floor.

The doors dinged, then opened.

The immediate hallway was empty, dimly lit by orange lights along the rounded ceiling. Everyone was asleep in their rooms: 315 people on this level alone. The virus would spread to most within minutes.

Hydrangea would fall by morning.

He walked to the end of the hall, opened the canister, and began walking back toward the elevator. As Sutherland passed rooms on either side, he noticed that many curtains were open. He peeked inside at the sleeping traitors, and their treasonous children, then continued his march to the elevator.

He reached the elevator, tossed the canister back to the end of the hall, then stepped inside. Both Finch and Wormwood’s expressions were blank—soldiers who knew what had to be done.

Horrance, on the other hand, was sobbing.

“Don’t worry,” Sutherland said. “It gets easier each time. You’ll do the next floor.”

The elevator doors dinged, then closed.

After unleashing the gas on another three levels, they met the others in the garage where a liberated City transport truck waited.

A man named Clinch stood at the back of the truck’s open doors. Inside were four men and several crates of weapons.

“We’re ready, sir.”

“Good,” Sutherland said. “Let’s finish this battle.

“First stop: taking that damned train station.”

The sun left and took 40 degrees with it. A chill shot through Liam. He wondered if they could build a fire in their building without drawing the eyes of zombies, bandits, or other players.

From their spot on the fifth floor of an apartment building in surprisingly stable condition, they had an excellent view of one of the city’s main avenues. According to Egan’s roughly drawn map, the five-mile stretch of six lanes zigzagged from north to south, staying just straight enough to split The Outback’s heart roughly in half. The meandering road was littered with ancient transports and starving zombies, making it impossible to cross without a vehicle to cover distances quickly and provide immediate cover.

“We should leave the buildings if it snows,” Liam said, looking out the window. “The streets should be less crowded. Probably safer.” He turned to Chelsea. “How’s your ankle?”

She stood from her chair, wincing. “Still hurts, but I can keep up.”

Liam didn’t bother looking at Katrina, sitting on the floor in the corner beside Clark at the window. He could feel her stare. Ever since Chelsea twisted her ankle while the three of them were running from zombies a few hours before, they’d had to slow their pursuit of Adam. It wasn’t Liam’s first choice, but their only other option was to leave the girl behind to die. Too, they still had no idea where Adam was, so resting didn’t really change things.

“I’m sorry,” Chelsea said to Katrina. “I don’t want to slow you all down and keep you from finding Adam.”

Katrina ignored Chelsea and continued to rotate the dial on the box screen provided by Egan, searching through the 20 or so Network feeds from the orbs flying through the city. They’d stopped every half hour or so to cycle through channels but had yet to find any sign of Adam.

Liam tried not to become discouraged, telling himself that not seeing Adam didn’t mean he was dead. The Outback had plenty of places to hide, no shortage of hovels where a resourceful guy like Adam could bury himself, then wait for the others to eliminate one another before reaching the Mesa, wherever that was.

“Thanks for letting me rest my ankle, Liam,” Chelsea said, filling the silence left by Katrina. “I know we lost touch over the years and weren’t really all that close before. This is really kind of you. All of you.” She breathed through a beat, then repeated, “Thanks.”

Liam could practically feel Katrina rolling her eyes.

Clark muttered, “No problem.”

“I was rooting for you and Ana in The Games. When they showed you both dying, it broke my heart. I was so glad to see you today and realize it was a lie.”

Liam nodded, not knowing what to say, uncomfortable with the girl’s continued fawning. She’d been slathering him with compliments ever since he’d managed to convince Katrina to bring her along. Liam wasn’t sure if she was truly that grateful or afraid that he’d realize what a liability he’d invited into the group.

While the girl had tried to appear tough when they found her, she clearly wasn’t cut from Ana’s fabric. Chelsea wasn’t a fighter. She had a clerical job in City 6, useless in training for The Games.

He couldn’t dwell on it now, though, for at that moment Katrina said, “I found Adam,” pulling Liam back to the task at hand. She held up the box screen so Liam could see. “There.” She pointed.

Liam walked over and looked down at the small screen. It was Adam all right, creeping through an alley alongside another player, trying to pass a horde of zombies swarming the front of a tall building with large letters carved into its stone face: A
PEX
N
ATIONAL
B
ANK
.

Katrina cranked the volume to see if Kirk Kirkman had anything to say. He didn’t. Liam figured they were likely watching one of the many feeds The State kept from the audience, meant for monitoring players internally. This footage with Adam would probably go to broadcast the moment he and his companion crashed into trouble.

“Look for an Apex National Bank,” Katrina said to Clark as he scanned the skyline with infrared binoculars.

Liam turned to a shaking Chelsea. “You OK?”

“Just cold,” she said through chattering teeth.

While Katrina, Clark, and Liam were prepared for the freeze, all covered in thick black coats, Chelsea had the thin Darwin coveralls and nothing more.

Liam shook the coat from his shoulders and slipped it around the girl.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” He returned to his spot beside Katrina.

She looked up at Liam, not so subtly shaking her head. He ignored her and focused on the screen as Adam and his companion took cover behind a small wall to survey the zombies.

From the camera’s angle, it seemed like they could have easily sneaked past the zombies by turning down another alley.

“They could have kept going.” Katrina said, echoing his suspicions. “They must be trying to get into the bank.”

“Yeah. But why?” Liam asked.

“Maybe one of ’em’s cold,” Katrina said, looking up at Chelsea, then back at Liam before her eyes returned to the screen. He wished she’d drop the attitude already. He continued to bite his tongue, though, not wanting to cause a scene.

“I found the bank,” Clark said, staring through the binoculars. “Two blocks west and another north. The streets seem relatively clear if we hustle.”

Katrina turned off the box, slid it into her backpack, and stood. She pointed at Liam. “You, come here.”

Liam followed her from the room, down the hall, and into another empty room where she clicked on her flashlight.

“Your girlfriend stays.”

“What?”

“She can’t keep up, Liam. We’ve got a line on Adam and need to reach him before he’s gone or dead. That girl’s only gonna slow us down.”

“She said her ankle’s fine.”

“Do you even hear yourself? Where the hell is the Liam I met last year? The one who knew when shit had to get done and didn’t worry about anything other than the most immediate goal.”

“She’s not some stranger, Katrina. She’s a friend.”

“That girl doesn’t give a fuck about you. She’s saying whatever will stroke your ego and keep me from kicking her out of the club.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so eager to leave her behind.”

Katrina got in Liam’s face, burning her eyes into his. “She’s a liability, Liam. Tell me she’s not.”

He couldn’t lie, and she seized on his silence.

“You want to tell her, or should I?”

“Why don’t we tell her to stay put and we’ll come back for her?”

Katrina smacked her head, turned, and sighed. “We’re not coming back for her, Liam. We’re going to get Adam, then go to The Station so you and Ana can settle down, start a fucking family, or whatever it is you soft people do after you wave your white flag.”

Even though she had smacked her own head, Liam felt the sting as if she had struck him instead. “What’s really bothering you?”

Katrina shook her head and looked away.

Liam grabbed Katrina by the arm. She twisted from his grip and turned her fiery gaze back on him. “I hear you and Ana talking when you think I’m asleep about how you can’t wait to stop fighting and finally settle down somewhere
safe
.”

“And there’s something wrong with that?”

“I risked everything to break you both out of Hydrangea. I did it because I thought the two of you could help hurt The State, maybe even cure the zombie virus and bring down The Walls.”

“You helped us because you wanted to get away from Sutherland too. Because you knew Ana was in danger,
just like you
.”

“No,” Katrina shook her head, arms crossed. “I wasn’t in any danger
until
I helped you.”

“So what? Do you wish that you hadn’t? Are you saying that you weren’t happy to get away from that crazy fuck?” He stared at Katrina in disbelief. “The guy wiped out a city! Men, women, children. You’re OK with that?”

“I don’t approve of his methods, no, but he’s the only real chance The Patriots have of making genuine change. He’s the first person to come along who isn’t just spouting off at the mouth. You can say plenty about Sutherland, but he’s never been afraid to put words to his thoughts and action to both.”

Liam couldn’t believe his ears. All this time that he and Ana had traveled with Katrina, he had never suspected that she regretted her decision. He couldn’t believe she would condone what Sutherland’s insanity had done to the innocents living inside City 1.

Liam repeated, “He wiped out a city!”

“I’m not arguing with you, Liam. What’s done is done, no matter what
I
think. Right now we’re going to go out there into the other room, and one of us is going to tell your friend good-bye. Who’s it going to be?”

A loud beeping echoed from the other room.

Katrina and Liam raced back to see Chelsea shoving the screaming bracelet on her right wrist deep into Liam’s jacket in a futile attempt to muffle the racket.

But the bracelet was too loud. It was only a matter of time before it would bring zombies, bandits, and other players to end them. Only moments until Network orbs would surround their bodies to broadcast their imminent death.

“Get out of here!” Katrina screamed, raising her gun at the girl. “Go!”

“No,” she cried, “Please. It’ll stop soon.
Please
.”

Chelsea’s second “please” sounded so desperate, it tugged at something deep inside Liam. It had no such effect on Katrina. “Go!” Katrina screamed more loudly.

Liam’s heart pounded as he tried to take charge. He thrust himself between the two women, hoping Katrina wouldn’t shoot him in the back.

“Let me see it!” He yanked off the jacket to get a better look at the screeching bracelet. Chelsea’s arm shook as she cried, “Stop it, please, stop the beeping.”

He ran his fingers along the seam, searching for a way to release the bulky contraption. “What is this?”

“They put ’em on all of us. It’s got an alarm that pops off at random.”

“Oh, great!” Katrina said. “Get her out of here!”

“No!” Liam yelled, “I can get it off.”

Clark rushed over, and for a moment, Liam thought Clark would shoot her. Instead, he looked at the bracelet, inspecting it with Liam as the beeping continued screaming in their ears.

“Hold on,” Liam said, “I’m going to get my knife.”

Chelsea nodded, eyes wide, tears painting her face as the death sentence kept screeching its promise. Liam found the blade in his pants pocket as Katrina yanked the girl from his grip, spun her around, and forced her toward the window.

Liam screamed, “Don’t!”

Katrina never stopped, using her momentum to shove Chelsea through the glass.

Liam cried out as the girl disappeared over the ledge to plummet five flights down to the snowy street below.

Liam had his gun aimed at Katrina before he knew what he was doing. “What the fuck!” he cried out.

Just as fast, Clark drew his gun—precisely at no one. He stood roughly between them, his aim hovering somewhere in the middle, clearly nervous about having to choose between them.

Katrina looked the opposite of sorry. She glared at Liam, eyes daring his challenge. She wasn’t even reaching for her gun.

“What?” she snarled. “You weren’t going to do it. Someone had to. Would you rather we all ended up dead?”

Liam had to swallow his desire to pull the trigger and deal with the consequences later. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so suddenly shocked, or mercilessly affronted. He wanted to kill Katrina, not just for what she had done to Chelsea but for how she had so instantly betrayed his trust.

Yet another part of Liam wanted to lower his gun. The weight of Katrina’s stare pressed down on his arm. He didn’t stand a chance. A wrong move, and Clark would have to shoot him dead. But he couldn’t do nothing, so Liam held his aim, same as his stare.

She dared to laugh. “What are you going to do, Liam—shoot me?
Really?
You couldn’t eliminate an obvious threat, yet you expect me to believe that you’d shoot me down in cold blood. Sure you
want
to, but you won’t.
You can’t.
And that right there is the problem.”

Her eyes flitted to the window. “Look outside Liam, and what do you think you’ll see?” She offered no time for an answer. “Zombies dining on your girlfriend’s guts. Those same zombies would be eating us right now if I hadn’t done what I did. Say I’m wrong.”

Liam felt his finger twitching against the trigger, still desperately wanting to pull it. Clark lowered his gun and walked over to Liam. “Put the gun down, man. She’s right. And we all know you’re not going to shoot her.”

They
were
right: there was no way he would kill Katrina in cold blood.
He
wasn’t a murderer.

Still, it felt good to hold the gun at her face, to aim at someone who made excuses for monsters like Sutherland and killed the innocent without flinching.

Clark holstered his gun, then, very slowly, set his hand on top of Liam’s weapon and gingerly lowered the barrel.

Chelsea’s bracelet finally stopped screaming outside as Liam put his gun away.

With another angry glare at Katrina, he shouldered by her on his way to the window. Just as she had predicted, Liam saw a small horde of zombies five stories below, painting their faces with Chelsea’s blood. He could imagine the sounds of their feasting.

“It stopped,” he said through gritted teeth. “We could have made it out alive. All we had to do was wait.”

“It stopped because she’s dead. Quit being a fool. Your mercy will get us all killed. Are you on this mission or do you wanna run back to Ana and tell her you gave up?”

Liam looked from Katrina to Clark, then back, rethinking his decision to lower his gun, but deciding to stand down for now.

“After you.” He nodded toward the door. Now that he couldn’t trust her, he wanted her in front of him, where he could keep an eye on her.

Katrina looked as if she was biting back her smirk. Clark looked relieved as he led the way from the room with Katrina behind him. Liam took one final look out the window, feeling heavy and at least partially responsible for the girl’s untimely death. He shook his head and fell into a grim march at the rear, hoping that they found Adam soon so he could kill Katrina and get back to Ana.