It was Chub. We tumbled together, hugging each other, Chub babbling excitedly, me holding on for dear life. Prairie was next; she scooped him up and kissed his cheeks, his forehead. He laughed and shrieked with delight-and then, suddenly, he stopped.
He regarded Rattler solemnly from the safety of Prairie’s arms. “Your eye hurts.”
Rattler chuckled. “No, little man, it don’t. This here’s a magic eye. It tells me tales.”
But Chub shook his head and ducked his chin. “It hurts,” he repeated. “It makes you sad.”
Rattler’s grin faltered, but he played along, winking at Chub. “I ain’t sad. You’re lookin’ at a man what’s about to do what he does best. Gonna bust some ass and take what’s mine is what we’re fixin’ to do.”
“We can’t take Chub in there with us,” I protested.
“He can wait in the truck,” Rattler said. “Jes’ as soon’s he shows us how he got out here in the first place.”
We followed Chub back along a brick path that wound behind lattice screens, thick with wisteria. Shielded from view, the path took a turn toward the back of the complex, where Dumpsters were clustered next to a loading dock. The air smelled of garbage, and flies buzzed.
“I saw that, I saw that door,” Chub said proudly, pointing. Sure enough, a door stood open. Trash bags were stacked haphazardly outside, as though someone had been interrupted in the middle of a task.
By an alarm sounding through the complex, for instance.
“I’ll take the young’un back,” Rattler said, reaching for Chub. But Chub backed away from him, clearly frightened. “Oh, now, I won’t hurt you none,” Rattler crooned.
The sound curdled my blood. My father’s voice was not one that would ever sing a lullaby or soothe an injured child. There was no comfort in it, and Chub-who knew far more than most little boys-didn’t trust it.
Not until I told him to. I hated doing it, but there was no other way.
“Chub, you go with Mr. Sikes now,” I said, kneeling down to give him a hug and a kiss. “You get to sit in his nice big truck and wait just a little while and then I’ll be back for you. Lie down and try to sleep, and maybe you’ll have a nice dream.”
Chub looked skeptical, but he reluctantly went to Rattler.
Rattler was back in moments. We were barely inside the building when we heard a woman’s scream.
41
I HAD BECOME FAMILIAR enough with the layout of the place to know that the scream came from the direction of the atrium at the center of the complex.
I led the way, fear boosting my adrenaline. Behind me, Rattler jogged along, holding weapons in both hands. I didn’t know guns, so I wasn’t sure what they were, but one looked like a regular handgun, and the other like something out of a video game, big and heavy.
The scream came again, stark with horror and fear. Dr. Grace’s voice, it sounded like. As we rounded the last turn, I saw that I was right: Dr. Grace, her hands bound behind her, was standing on a circular coffee table, turning one way and then another, nearly tripping herself in her panic. A red stain on one shoulder revealed where she’d been shot. It looked like the bullet hadn’t done much damage. It certainly wasn’t the reason she was screaming.
Circling the table where she stood was a ring of zombies.
“Holy…,” I heard Rattler mutter behind me, and just in time I turned to see him raising both his weapons in the air.
“Don’t,” I said. “You can’t kill them like that!”
Rattler glared at me, but he didn’t shoot, and we stopped at the edge of the atrium, stunned by the scene.
Dr. Grace was not alone. Bryce had been propped up on the floor against the coffee table, at Dr. Grace’s feet. He was conscious, his eyes tracking the action in the room, and his color was returning as his flesh continued to knit. Next to him crouched Kaz, pleading with Dr. Grace in a low voice, telling her to stay calm.
Many of the chairs in the room were occupied, and I recognized the staff I’d encountered over the last couple of days. Biceps. Texas. The servers from the cafeteria, the security staff, the researchers I’d passed in the halls. And up front, standing on a huge flagstone hearth, was Prentiss, watching the proceedings as though they amused him. He caught my eye and gave me a chilling smile.
“Hailey!” Prentiss called. “How delightful to see you. And Prairie, what a nice surprise. I had hoped to welcome you personally, but things did get fouled up, didn’t they? Nevertheless, we are pleased you could make it. And Mr. Sikes. My intrepid partner.” His voice turned cold. “You’ve supplied me with one… challenge after another.”
“Shut your mouth, you damn windbag,” Rattler snapped. “You got what’s mine. One a my people. Let ’im go now, and we’ll be on our way.”
“Your people…” Prentiss pretended to be confused. “Oh, you must mean young Mr. Sawicki. I am afraid I will be requiring his services. In fact, we were just having a… staff meeting, to introduce him. And, of course, to discipline Dr. Grace, who was careless enough to allow him and young Hailey to cause quite a disruption. And now you’ve brought the Tarbells to join us. How very expedient.”
Kaz had gotten to his feet and clambered up onto the coffee table, where he was trying to quiet Dr. Grace. He shot me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“I’m’a start shootin’ now,” Rattler said. “I’ll drop one a your folks at a time until you start talkin’ sense.”
Before anyone could react, a shot echoed through the space and there was a sharp exclamation; the man who had served me my lunch the day before fell to the carpet, clutching his arm and moaning. I hadn’t even seen him move.
“Jes’ so you know, if I’d’a meant to kill ’im, he’d be a dead man,” Rattler added placidly.
Prentiss chuckled. “Impressive, I suppose, when one hails from a backwater town such as this. Only don’t forget, my dear man, that I’m always a step ahead of you.”
He motioned with his outstretched arms, and the staff rose from their seats.
“Endearing, really, your bravado,” Prentiss said. On the floor the injured man moaned and clutched his elbow. “Especially when my men could exterminate you in three seconds flat. Oh yes, on my signal they-”
Rattler’s guns exploded a second time, several bursts in quick succession. A man fell from the second-floor balcony, hitting the ground with a sickening thud, and another lurched from the shadows across the room, took two tottering steps, and fell in a spray of his own blood.
For a moment Rattler and Prentiss stared at each other, and then Prentiss continued in a tight voice, as though Rattler hadn’t just shot two of his guards. “Are ready to act on my command, is what I was going to say, Mr. Sikes. My men are disciplined. They respond only to my orders. Although if you really want to see impressive loyalty, you need only look to the subjects of my study. My passion, you might call them, the results of millions of dollars and years of research, the fruit of a collaborative effort that your own people, as you call them, have made possible.”
There was silence as all eyes turned to the zombies, who had stayed motionless.
Prentiss walked slowly across the room. “Gentlemen,” he said when he was only a few feet from the ring of zombies. “Seize the Tarbells.”
The gasp that went up throughout the room echoed my own shock. I staggered backward to Prairie and grabbed her hand, and we held tightly to each other. I frantically searched the room for an escape, but the only exits were blocked by Prentiss’s men.
The zombies did not hurry. They shambled, their steps uncertain and almost comic, the motions of a drunkard. Their hands reached out toward us and their mouths opened with flesh lust, and I heard my own whimper of fear.
“No.”
Another voice rasped out, and the zombies slowed. They turned, one after another, tottering on their rotting limbs, staring without emotion at the source of the voice.
