Rose smiled and raised her can, “To our very own outstanding, hairy arsed, badass reformed junkie Navy SEAL—”
“To Barnes,” Flynn said.
“To Barnes,” Tawny and Annalise echoed.
They drank the rest of their beer in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The sun sank below the horizon and the temperature plummeted. They had a hasty meal of MREs and bottled water, then huddled together under their blankets.
After some desultory conversation Rose stood up, “I’ll take first watch, then Flynn, then Tawny then Annalise. Two hours each. Mercy, you get to sleep the whole night through because it’s your job to keep us right tomorrow. No… don’t object, we’ve discussed it and it’s non-negotiable—”
Mercy pulled a face then relented, “OK, thanks guys… I think.”
So, no pressure then. I’m guaranteed not to sleep a wink now—
“Wake up Mercy, it’s time to shake a leg,” Annalise’s voice penetrated Mercy’s dreamless sleep.
Mercy blinked and rubbed her eyes, “Yeah, yeah, OK… just give me a minute. What time is it?”
“7:30 am. Do you want the good news or the good news?” Tawny said, waving the hand-held radio in the air.
Mercy stared at Tawny, “Barnes? He’s done it? The hairy arsed bastard has done it?”
Tawny nodded, “He’s done it. The airport is ours. He’s got the plane and the bombs, it’s game on. It’s going to take them an hour or so to get everything ready, so we’ve gotta forget the coffee and waffles for now—”
Barnes, you beauty—
Mercy stood up, “OK guys, check weapons and ammo, only bring what’s needed. Are you ready to raise the dead and kick some NSA militia ass?”
“Hell yeah,” Rose said, racking the slide on her pistol.
“Bring out your dead, bring out your dead,” Flynn mimed ringing a bell.
“Bring it on,” Tawny growled, “I’ve got enough payback for a lifetime to give those NSA militia bastards—”
“OK then,” Mercy said, slinging her M4 carbine over her shoulder, “Let’s go and share the love. Annalise have you got the music ready?”
Annalise looked up from the ghetto blaster at her feet. “Actually, you’re going to love me,” she waved a cassette tape in the air then loaded it into the cassette player.
Mercy frowned. “Wait, what?” She caught sight of the cassette case, “No way—”
Annalise smiled, “Hey, I can’t deny a fellow rock chick her true music. Shall I—?”
Mercy strode over to the edge of the roof, “Come on, bring it over here. I picked this place for the acoustics, let’s see what this city has to offer—”
Annalise placed the ghetto blaster on the roof ledge, turned the volume up to maximum and pressed play. A wall of sound blasted across the city streets echoing from building to building. A few minutes later the first few lurching figures emerged from the dark recesses of the city.
A grim smile spread across Mercy’s face, “This music has literally woken the dead.”
They watched as the trickle of undead grew into a group of about fifty or sixty, then a crowd of two hundred or so.
“OK, I think we should drop down to the street and do that Pied Piper shit. We’ll attract others along the way, look… they’re still coming,” Rose said.
Mercy checked her watch; 8:05 am.
“Yeah, that works. Turn the music off, we’ll get down the fire escape and flank them,” Mercy said, checking the map. “We’ll follow Ridge Street to 5th Street Southwest, that’ll take us to Interstate 64, then it’s less than a kilometre to the prison.”
Annalise switched off the music and they descended the fire escape to East Market Street at the rear of the City Hall. They made their way around the Postal Services building to East Main Street.
Mercy looked back towards the City Hall, “Jesus, we’ve only been off the roof for about ten minutes, now there’s loads more of them, looks like about five or six hundred now. They’re making their own noise, attracting each other.”
Rose spat on the ground, “Yeah, fuckers like a party. They’ve probably not heard any decent music for ages, who can blame them for reliving their mosh pit years?”
“Thanks for that thought Rose, that’s deep… real deep,” Mercy said, checking her map. “Right, I’ve got this; East Main Street, West Main Street, West Water Street then Ridge Street… then it’s the main drag all the way to the Interstate. Come on Annalise, let’s crank out the tunes again—”
Annalise took off her pack and turned on the ghetto blaster. A shredding guitar solo blasted out across the street followed by a chorus of snarling vocals accompanied by thumping drum and base. She shouldered the pack again and they watched as the crowd of tropes turned as one and staggered towards them.
This is working… almost too well—
“This is surreal,” Tawny said, “normally we’re trying to avoid these things, now we’re like… socialising with the fuckers—”
“Who said the dead can’t boogie? Just watch this shit,” Flynn said.
“Music adds a different dimension, this feels like… being in a movie. Ever notice when you turn the sound down on a horror movie? It loses the fear factor. Well, this is the reverse, the music makes it seem… safer—” Rose said.
“OK, let’s stop the philosophy, they’re getting closer. Everyone on me, I want your eyes everywhere and weapons on silent. Remember, they’re following the music, not us… we’ve got the biotech to thank for that, but one slip and that’ll change, then we’ll have blown the whole thing. Pep talk over. Annalise, crank that thing up to eleven—”
Mercy adjusted the hand held radio on her webbing and inserted the tactical earpiece into her left ear.
Come on Barnes, let’s do this—
Annalise reached back to her rucksack and turned up the volume on the ghetto blaster. The music reverberated off the buildings. They kept to their route, maintaining fifty yards between them and the lurching dead. Fresh tropes emerged from alleys and buildings as they moved along. After half an hour the crowd stretched back as far as they could see.
Most look pretty
