'Through the basement and then down into the subbasement. God showed me before.'
'And it will get us to the airport, without running into the zombies?'
'It will. God will lead us.'
'You believe this shit?' Forrest asked.
Bates shrugged. 'It might be worth checking into.'
'You're serious?' Forrest asked.
'I am. At this point, I'll take any help I can get-even from God.'
He reached down and scratched the cat's ears.
'Meanwhile, what do we do about Mr. Ramsey?' Stern asked.
'I'll handle him. It's my responsibility. You get a secure room ready, someplace where we can lock him up so he can't hurt himself or others.'
'Bates,' Stern arched his eyebrows. 'Why didn't you tell us about Ramsey sooner?'
'At first, I thought it was just stress. Figured he was tired. It didn't get bad until a few days ago.'
'Well, from here on out, the four of us need to trust each other implicitly. We're in this together.'
'Agreed.' Bates nodded. 'Forrest, you keep an eye on Pigpen here. Don't let our fellow conspirator run his mouth. If I really am going to assume control of operations, I'm sure there will be some people who want to start trouble over it. We need to let those we trust know about it beforehand, so they can help quell any resistance. Something like that will just delay us longer. The two of you go wake up Steve.'
Forrest frowned. 'The Canuk? Why?'
'Because he's an airline pilot and we're not. If we can make it to the airport, I want to know exactly what would be required when we get there, how many people he thinks he can fly out, what type of plane he'll need- how feasible this whole thing is.'
'You really do think there's a way out of here, don't you?' Forrest asked.
'Anything is better than sitting here, just waiting for those things outside to attack us.'
Ob's ruse worked. By midnight, the undead forces encamped in New York City had netted over a hundred additional survivors, lured from safety by the phony broadcast. They were slaughtered as they crept from their basements and attics and storage rooms and everywhere else they'd hidden. One group was caught on the choked Long Island Expressway, driving an armored car. Another group emerged onto the rooftop of their Soho brownstone, saw what was happening, and began dropping cinder blocks on the corpses milling in the streets below. They were picked off by a combination of zombie snipers and undead birds. More humans came in during the night, from New Jersey and other parts of New York State. The dead welcomed them with open arms and flashing teeth. Their numbers swelled. By the time the witching hour had passed, the only living creatures left in New York were sequestered inside Ramsey Towers.
On the outskirts of the city, a zombie with a can of spray paint tagged graffiti on the side of a building. It read:
WELCOME TO THE NECROPOLIS.
HAVE A NICE DAY
TWELVE
Bates was halfway to Ramsey's private quarters when his radio squawked.
The burst of electronic static was like a gunshot in the silent corridor. He yanked it from his belt in frustration, and lowered his voice.
'This is Bates.'
'Mr. Bates?' The speaker was Branson, a former meteorologist and now one of their communications specialists. 'You'd better come down here to the communication center right away. We've got trouble.'
'What kind of trouble?'
'You wouldn't believe it, sir.'
'Try me. Quit speaking in riddles and just report what you have.'
Branson's gulp was audible through the tiny speaker.
'The zombies, sir. They-well, they've taken over all the broadcast channels-ham, military, commercial, and even the marine frequencies.
Everything.'
'And what are they doing?'
'Announcing an all clear. Telling survivors in the listening area that it's okay to come out now. Telling them to come to Manhattan. They're saying the city's safe, and if they come here, they'll be protected and given food and shelter.'
'And you're sure it's them?'
'Begging your pardon, Mr. Bates, but who else could it be? We know darn well that it's not safe outside. People are being led into a trap.'
'Damn. That's clever.' Despite his total loathing of the creatures surrounding the skyscraper, Bates had to respect their ingenuity.
'Sir? That's not all. We've picked up some transmissions from the south. There's a large force on the move, heavily armed. I'm talking tanks and heavy artillery.'
