John Holmes - Even Zombie Killers Can Die

“It can’t be that simple.” Red protested. “There’s no way she could do something that horrible just to keep her job .”

“Hitler became Hitler because he couldn’t get into art school.” Brit said grimly. “Sometimes it is that simple, Injun.”

“And the Army is still paying her.” I breathed. “She’s been crisscrossing the country, testing ‘cure’ after ‘cure.’ It must all be an act.”

“Remember the VX nerve agent that killed Mya?” Brit reminded me. “She probably did it as much in the hopes of killing us as to see if it worked on the Zs.”

“She’s a sadist.” Doc said. “She gets off on inflicting pain. It must be a wet dream, to wake up every day and know she made this world.”

“I’m going to kill her.” I said simply, my wife’s face hovering again in my mind. “I’m going to wrap my hands around her throat and choke her to death slowly.”

“Get in line,” Brit said, grimly.

Hart stood up and leaned over in the Sergeant Major’s face. “Goddamn YOU to hell. You could have called it in, could have stopped it at the start. You ran. You fucking coward.” She slapped the Sergeant Major hard across the face, knocking her out of her chair, then ran from the room, tears streaming down her face. Red got up and followed her out.

“I suppose I deserved that. Not that it would have made any difference. You know how fast it spreads.” She rubbed her face where the imprint of Hart’s big hand was turning red. “Still, she’s right.”

Ahmed broke the uncomfortable silence that followed. “So, now what?”

Outside the room there was a large crash, followed by a gunshot. Then the door burst in, and we were staring down the barrel of an old Thompson submachine gun. The .45 caliber barrel looked like a train tunnel, and it was pointed directly at me. Behind it stood Pierre, glaring at all of the team. Behind him, on the floor, I could see Hart buried under a pile of bodies, and Red was slumped on the floor, blood running from his forehead, smoking .22 still clutched in his hand. One of the islanders sat next to him on the floor, holding his arm where, I learned later, Red’s shot had cut a groove out of the muscle.

The Sergeant Majors’ voice rang out like a pistol shot. “STOP!” Ahmed immediately lifted his gun into the air; it had had appeared in the instant Pierre had kicked the door in. Pierre looked over at McIntyre. “Madame, are you alright? We saw the woman strike you, on the camera, and got here as fast as we could. I had to hit the Indian with my gun stock.”

“I’m fine, Pierre. A misunderstanding among old soldiers, that is all.” He stepped back, lowering his gun but still eyeing us warily. Brit rushed into the hall, where Pierre’s men were getting up from the prone figure of Hart. She kneeled in front of Red and lifted his eyelid, checking his pupils, then gave me a thumbs-up sign. Despite the blood running from her own split lip, Hart knelt next to her and started pressing a bandage to his forehead.

I let out the breath I didn’t realize I had been holding. Pierre’s finger had been on the trigger, and my stomach was a knot. Damn, that was close. He would have swept the whole room with .45 caliber slugs. Ahmed may have gotten him, but not before he had me and maybe someone else. I was getting too old for this crap. I waved my hand in a stand down sign to the team.

“You have very loyal people, Sergeant Major McIntyre.”

She looked at Ahmed, putting his pistol back in its holster, then at Ziv, who was placing a steak knife back down on the table. He had had it held back over his shoulder, about to throw it at Pierre. “So do you, Sergeant First Class Agostine.”

“Well, I’m glad that didn’t end badly. Though I think Red is going to have a bit of a headache in the morning. “

“I will have Doctor Brundage keep an eye on him. After all, we all know how important Specialist Redshirt is, don’t we?” She raised her eyebrows at me.

I looked at Doc. He looked back, understanding my thoughts exactly. She knew about Redshirts’ immunity to the infection, and Doc understood the look I had given him. If the next minute didn’t go well, Doc would give the word for the team to kill everyone in the room, and anyone in the way as we got the hell out of Dodge. I tensed up, and my voice turned cold.

“I don’t know what you‘re talking about, Sergeant Major.”

“Don’t be an idiot, Nick. We ran blood tests on everyone. Brundage told me before dinner. I congratulate you on keeping him safe from the authorities for so long.”

I knew what this meant to her. If they took Red and turned him over to Doctor Morano, the island’s safety was assured. Weapons, ammo, food. Whatever they wanted. I studied her lined face for a moment, noticing the creases around her eyes, and I took a chance.

“Thanks. I trust you will keep our secret.” She looked back at me, and her face broke into the smile that I had seen worn into her eyes. No one who smiled and laughed often enough that it wore into the lines in their face could be evil. Hard, yes, but not evil.

“Of course. I would see Morano in hell before I turned over anyone to her experiments. I would suggest that after she is dead, you allow us to send our sample of his blood into the government. We can say it was from one of our islanders who died from an accident. Drowned, unfortunately, his body never recovered.”

“Sounds like a plan. Now, let’s see what we can do about getting your people some supplies. Do you have a length of road that a C-130 can land on?”

She motioned to Pierre, who jumped at the chance to leave the room. I turned to the former Serbian Special Forces soldier sitting next to me. “Ziv, can you go with him? You know what we need. And please don’t kill him. Make nice with the Frenchman.”

“He has more balls than any Frenchman I have ever seen” growled Ziv.

“I am NOT French! I am Quebecois!”

Brit walked back into the room, followed by Hart, who was holding a bandage to her own face. The Sergeant major looked at her, and was about to say something, but I broke in first.

“Hart, the next time you act without orders, you are off this team and on your own in the wilderness. Had we been in a combat situation and you had done something so foolish, I would have shot you myself. You put the whole team in jeopardy by antagonizing our host, and I’d like you to apologize to her. Now.”

Hart looked at me for a second, then she turned to McIntyre. “I’m sorry, Sergeant Major. It’s just that, well, I lost everything.”

“Apology accepted. We all did, and we’re all a little crazy these days.”

Doc whispered to me “She should see Brit in action if she wants to see crazy” followed by a sharp “OW!” as Brit smacked his damaged hand with a plate.

FROM: betrayer47@gmail.com

TO: Danielle.morano@amriid.army.mil

SUBJ: IMMUNITY

Doctor Morano,

I have information which you will pay gladly for. I know where there is a person who is immune to infection. I want 30 pounds of gold and passage to England. In return I offer you this information, his location, and help capturing him.

FROM: Danielle.morano@amriid.army.mil

TO: betrayer47@gmail.com

SUBJ: RE: IMMUNITY

How do I know you are for real? Contact me through Facebook. Look me up with this email address.

Sasha Zivkovic: I want 30 lbs of gold up front.

Danielle Morano: I know who you are.

Sasha Zivkovic: Gold, and a passage to England. I want to go home to Serbia.

Danielle Morano: Who is it.

Sasha Zivkovic: I want your word that you will pay me.