John Ringo - Under a Graveyard Sky

“There are regulations, Mr. Smith…” Schmidt said, uncomfortably.

“And we live in interesting times,” Tom said, smiling broadly. “Seriously, help a guy out here.”

“I…” Schmidt said, then shrugged. “Sure. No problem.”

“Thank you,” Tom said. “I owe you.”

“Can we speak privately, sir?” Schmidt asked.

“Sure,” Tom said, waving for Faith to step out. They were meeting in the engineer’s very nearly subterranean office.

“I…” Schmidt said, then cleared his throat. “I understand that BoA has access to vaccine, sir…”

“That rumor was quick,” Tom said, frowning. “I’ll neither confirm nor deny but for the purpose of discussion…?”

“I’d really like to get some, sir,” Schmidt said, his face working. “My…my sister has already… She’s in the confinement facility.”

“I’m sorry,” Tom said, sighing. “You understand that it’s a vaccine. It’s not a cure. There’s nothing, currently, that can be done for your sister.”

“Yes, sir,” Schmidt said. “But…I really don’t want to be that way and…I have children. And grandchildren.”

“I can’t get a lot of doses freed up,” Smith said, trying not to sigh again. “I’ll see what I can do. As long as you keep that Amazon out of my hair for a while.”

“I heard about the security checkpoint,” Schmidt said, chuckling. “A sword? Seriously?”

“Are you talking about the machete or the kukri?” Tom asked. “Yes, seriously. And okay, yes, I’ll see what I can do. Just…”

“Get her out of your hair for a while,” Schmidt said, standing up and sticking out his hand. He pulled it back after a moment. “Sorry. Can do. Lots to learn. And I’m a pretty good teacher.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

“So this is it?” Faith pounced as Tom left the office. “You’re going to turn me over to some fat old engineer to go dig around in sewers?”

“Faith,” Tom said, trying not to grit his teeth. “There is, in fact, a real world reason for this?”

“What?” Faith said. “What can I possibly…?”

“Building design!” Tom snapped. “Where are we?”

“I really have no clue,” Faith said. “I got lost a half an hour ago.”

“Which is the point,” Tom said. “Let’s say that things really fall apart. That you have to do stuff that no reasonable thirteen-year-old should have to do to survive. You think that knowing how big buildings like this really work won’t be useful?”

“Well…” Faith said, frowning.

“I also am incredibly busy,” Tom said. “I’m the head of security of a major international bank that millions of people depend upon in the middle of an international crisis! Are you really so selfish you think I should spend all my time pampering to your tantrums? Or that you should even be throwing them?”

“I’m sorry, Uncle Tom,” Faith said. “I… It’s just…”

“This will keep you occupied and hopefully interested,” Tom said. “While I try to save as many people as I can. So, yes, you’re going to get an introductory course in building engineering, which is at least half about how to find your way around in one. Which may just some day save your life.”

“I understand and comply, Uncle Tom,” Faith said. “But… What you’re asking me to do is creep around the, frankly, creepy bowels of a building with, you know, people turning into zombies without any warning. This is not, exactly, ‘keeping me safe.’ Sir.”

“You have a point there,” Tom said. “I’d planned on keeping you up on the executive level. Where we have posted security.”

“Just a couple of weapons?” Faith asked.

“The problem is what,” Tom said. “Almost anything useful is illegal for carry by a minor in New York.”

“I hate this place,” Faith snarled, then got ahold of herself. “Sorry. But…”

“I’ll get you an issue K-ll,” Tom said. “But that’s it.”

“Better than nothing,” Faith said, saluting. “Reporting for duty, sir!”

“Just… Don’t get yourself turned into a zombie,” Tom said. “Your mother would kill me…”

* * *

“I had no idea these buildings were so complicated,” Faith said as they were walking down another seemingly interminable service corridor.

“Every one of these buildings is basically a self contained city,” Dave said, proudly. He’d found he enjoyed the girl’s company. She might be a little firebrand but she was a smart one. And willing to pitch in no matter what the weight. Strong as hell, too. She’d carried a sixty pound circuit breaker up two flights of stairs without a single bitch. “More like a space ship. Air has to be pulled in and pumped to everywhere in the building. Then there’s water and sewage. Movement of materials. It’s a dance really. A great one.”

“What are those?” Faith asked, pointing to some huge…thingies.

“Air handlers again,” Dave said. “Currently they’re not running since the portion of the building they supply isn’t in use. No need for them. Nobody’s using the air.”

“And that is…” Faith stopped and tilted her head to the side. “What’s that sound?”

“Fluid flow?” Dave said, cocking his head. “Air flow? There’s an electrical hum…”

“I was thinking of the…” She stopped at the shriek.

The zombie had been behind one of the idle air handlers. It was covered in blood, not its own. Faith really didn’t want to see what it had been feeding on behind the box.

“Charlie?” Dave said, stepping forward. “Charlie, it’s me, Dave…”

“Don’t,” Faith said, putting out her hand. “It’s not going to…”

The zombie charged the twosome, keening.

It was the first time Faith had heard the zombie wail and it sent shivers down her spine. That was the sound early man had heard in the forests. It was the thing in the corner at night. The monster under the bed. In the closet. It was fear curled up into a ball and distilled. For just a moment she froze.

“No!” Dave shouted, backing up. “Charlie! No, no, no, NO!”

The zombie was fixated on the engineer. Which gave Faith her chance.

She whipped the K-ll into the zombie’s shin as it passed. She could hear the bones snap from the blow. But it turned on her nonetheless. She captured one grasping hand in a come-along, lifted the arm and spun under, tucking it up and back.

The strength of the zombie surprised her as did it’s complete disregard for pain. Any normal human would have been down on the ground with a broken leg and a nearly dislocated arm. The zombie just continued until it was fully dislocated, its teeth snapping to reach its tormentor.

Faith drove the butt of the K-ll into the zombie’s kidneys and was mildly unsurprised to get no result. It just didn’t notice pain at all. With that understanding, she flipped the club out and up, then across, hard, on the upper part of the zombie’s neck. There was a sickening crunch and the thing dropped to the ground.

“Oops,” she said, trying not to throw up. “I think we’re going to have to report this to Uncle Tom…”

* * *

“I didn’t mean to kill him,” Faith said, miserably. “I’d just tried everything I could to subdue him and nothing was working. I know you’re not supposed to use a baton on bone or the neck but…I couldn’t think of anything else to do…” she started sobbing.

“I’m surprised you could,” the NYPD officer said, shaking her head. “You gonna be okay, Miss?”

BoA security and the coroner’s overworked office had already cleared the bodies away. As Faith had feared, the zombie had been feeding on a previous victim. Both of them had been support engineers working in the area.