Death Weeps - Page 12/37

To me it looked savage.

His vengeance had that edge to it, a savage vengeance.

Unleashed against the enemy.

I only had enough time to grab Tiff's hand, recognizing The Loser Leader and crew for the dirty fighters I knew they would be.

I was familiar with that style.

I'd had lots of practice on that score.

I quickly ascertained Jade's position and waded into the center of the battle, Tiff's hand dragged along in my grasp.

Terran met my eyes and released his Null-ness like water bursting through a dam. The voices of the dead roared to the surface of my consciousness in a brutal tidal wave of sound, sense and alarm. An ear-shattering chorus only Tiff and I could hear.

She was gettin' the full tune in, her power amplifying mine.

We put out a call to the dead that could be felt for miles and we watched as bones erupted from the ground, in a tornado of bleached ivory. They smacked into those of the fragment in their haste to reassemble to their former selves. As if pulled by invisible strings, the organic matter of their bodies melded together midair, solidifying from nothing to the zombies I knew they would become.

I smiled instantly at the reconstruction, rage and pleasure spun together in a familiar spiral, my power over the dead unaffected by location.

By world.

Put that in your pipe and smoke it, the ghost of Gramps' voice breathed through my brain, even as the dead coalesced and became whole.

Standing and ready for my words.

My will.

One of the huge Band guys brought out two small knives, one for each huge hand, the warrior woman stayed close to his side, her own weapons at the ready. When the first wave of the dead burst out of the snow laden meadow, their bones rose like ghostly branches into the air with skin like sand... a turbulent cyclone of collision and purpose.

We were ready.

The men of the Band's eyes widened as they paused in their assault, their eyes squinting in recognition. Then they looked at me and my friends. I'd seen that expression before. Evil. They thought what I was doing was evil. Maybe it was, but it was necessary.

That's the way evil sometimes was, necessary.

I saw the leader of the fragment hesitate as the bodies of my dead knitted before his eyes. Bones flowed and connected on an unseen wind, skin shrouding the skeletal forms until bodies were covered in a cloak of humanity. The leader stepped back from the storm of the dead, as they came alive in front of him.

I watched fear fill his deformed face and had a wave of fierce pleasure wash over me. I knew he was a crappy guy, that he'd had a plan of action against the warriors and the Queen. That he apparently would have stolen the girls. He'd need to be stopped.

My zombies were the cure.

My gaze locked with his and I knew he understood it was my hand of power that had been called, that was going to even up the playing field. The leader of the fragment watched as I called the dead to me like a dog brought to heel.

This one strained on a short chain, ready to fight. Ready to dominate on my command.

The leader looked at the newly risen. They must look like they'd come from thin air. I believed he probably thought it was by black magic.

I saw him sneer as his resolve returned. I knew this guy wasn't going to alter his plan. He was a focused dude.

Well effing great. So was I.

He surged forward, thrusting his knife into one of my zombies that was closest to him, recoiling as the smell hit him even as his blade nailed my dead. I felt the zombie's response, knew its reaction long before he did.

Its unstoppable surety.

I smiled to myself, Tiff grinned from ear to ear.

The dead felt good; good to have, good to control.

Just good.

My zombie's rotted hand had no trouble gripping the hilt of the dagger that the leader of the fragment had put here, the hilt glowing softly out of the deepest cavity of his body. I sifted through the basest sludge of the mind of the dead and I heard two things: he'd known this creeper in life and there had been no love lost between the two and the asshat's name was Tucker. Tiff and I plucked that knowledge right out of the slow-moving pond of his mind.

My zombie turned to face me, eyes rolling wetly in his skull, plums of black encased in flesh gone soft with rot.

My gaze flicked to Tucker, having impaled one of my dead and the command fell away from my mind like an errant puzzle piece that found its place.

Subdue him, I thought with purpose.

I swung my gaze to the other dead that were gathered and scattered the thought amongst them like rice at a wedding. They picked up the sifted directive and their glittering eyes fell on the fragment which remained, which lived.

The very ones they had fought beside while alive became their enemies in death.

Subdue them all, I commanded again.

The fragment that were now zombies turned to me as a unit, in various stages of decomposition, the air not frozen enough to dull the scent of them.

It was not kill. Not yet. But it may come to that.

I realized that when it came to zombies as weapons, I was a slow learner.

*

My dead moved forward like a mass of deadly intent, flesh sloughing and falling with their movement as they filtered through the living fragment, ripping limbs from live people as they lifted their weapons of metal to kill those that no longer lived.

The dead were unstoppable and Tucker saw it, running to the forest and hiding from the wave of their retribution.

Blood covered every surface, splattered in crimson waves, as organic bits of dead and living flesh mingled on the snow that had fallen, turning the white meadow to red.

Tiff and I held on to each other's hands, Jade swaying at my side, taking in the reality of the war in front of her, careful not to touch any part of my skin, knowing what that would mean for her sensitive Empath side.

I was too late to help when I saw one of the bigger males of the fragment grab Randi, her squeal as he laid hands on her heard even above the fighting.

Alex whipped his head in her direction, somehow not aware they'd gotten separated in the chaos and charged toward her.

"No!" Jade screamed and every zombie in the field felt the hiccup of my fear, watching the fist raise above Randi's small face, the fragment poised to beat her into unconsciousness.

The zombies paused in their war against their brethren, all eyes on the one that would abuse Randi, my thoughts pulsing in their brains.

I was helpless to stop the tenor of my thoughts and keep the leash taut.

Then she began to glow and I knew what was happening.

We were leaving; Randi's fear had triggered the dimensional shift that would take us back to our world.

I reached my hand toward my dead as I clutched Tiff's hand.

My vision wavered, the meadow dimming, then I pushed all the command of the dead I had left, the tether a highway to their connection to me.

Rest, I intoned, the last solid thing I felt before getting sucked into the vortex of the strangeness between the worlds.

As my eyes swept the meadow, rushing backwards as if pulled from behind, I looked into the Queen's eyes and saw so clearly what she wished for me to see.

Her gratitude shone like a lone jewel in the middle of a sea of crimson battle, the weak winter light of that world slowly darkening to nothingness.

My vision went black and a veil of ice coated my body as I traveled through heated darkness.

CHAPTER 9

Randi sat up and looked around.

The dump. They were at the hideaway.

Her heartbeat slowed gradually as she took in their surroundings, the horrible guy that was gonna bash her face, gone.

They were safe. She looked up at Alex's face as he gathered her to him, his large body overwhelming hers absolutely. She trembled against him, hearing the groaning of her friends all around her.

That was close, Randi thought.

Too close.

"What the hell was that?" Jonesy blustered. "Could you have given us some goddamned warning? I feel like my stomach just got returned-to-effing-sender inside out!" Jonesy stood, hitting his thighs with his hands, dust plumes rising. Some was the dirt of the hideaway, the remainder was from their travels in the dome world.

Alex stood, Randi wrapped in his arms. "Hey pal, you signed on for this little exploration knowing full effing well it was experimental. Don't jump Randi's crap because it's not what ya signed up for."

John groaned, his ass in the air and his forehead pressed against his knuckles. "Terrible..." he muttered.

Sophie sat there with her legs splayed in front of her, head in hands. "How do you feel Randi?"

"Confused but otherwise, okay."

John stumbled to his feet, looking over at Jonesy, Archer was still out cold. "How do ya feel, Terran?" Jonesy asked.

"Jackhammer, multiple times to the skull," John responded, rubbing his temples and looking around, taking stock of the group.

I found Jade a few feet away and ran over to her, giving her a gentle shake. She rolled over, groaning. Jade opened her eyes and immediately closed them again, holding her stomach like she wanted to upchuck. I stood over her, trying to help her up but she shook her head. "Not yet, Caleb," she said, putting her palm up in the gesture for wait.

Alex gave a look to Randi and she nodded her head. He walked over to the small fridge that they kept in the hideaway and snagged some water bottles out of the depths. They were cool but not cold. Alex raised his eyebrows at Jonesy.

"Yeah, I'll get right on that muscle-head." Jonesy stalked over to the fridge and gave it a light tap with his finger, the internal bulb, fueled by pulse electrodes, blinked on and the air compressor and other internal mechanisms sprung to life, whirring and clunking.

Jonesy smiled. "That'll do it."

"Thanks, Jones," Tiff said, grabbing a water from Alex. He frowned. "Manners, Tiff!"

She smiled evilly. "Yeah... thanks."

Bry rolled his eyes. "Come on, sis, don't bust his balls."

"Uh-huh, thanks for the reminder, I was so confused about his balls."

Jade laughed. "Ah, Tiff... please!"

I noticed everyone was awake and moving except Archer. "Jonesy, check on Lewis, looks like he's still out."

"He's fine, Hart... it'll take him a little longer, being kinda on the girly side or whatever."

"I heard that, Mark!" Archer said from his prone position on the floor, "I'm gay, not a transvestite. There's a difference for those in the know."

Jonesy grunted in acknowledgment.

Great, everyone's awake, judging by the sarcasm getting flung around like monkey shit.

"Okay guys, let's talk," I said.

"About?" Tiff said around a mouthful of water.

Sophie rolled her eyes. "Ya know, that weird place Randi just jerked us out of!"

"Right!" Jonesy said, "that."

John came forward out of the shadowy corners of the room. "I'd like to go back."

"No way, Terran! Are ya thinkin'? Remember the creepers out in the field?" Jonesy asked.

Tiff barked out a laugh. "Yeah... the dead ones or live ones?"

Jonesy waved that away. "Nah, I liked the dead guys, they cleaned shit up great!" He fist-pumped and Sophie rolled her eyes again.

There was a lot of that going around, post-war glee.

John shook his head and clarified, "No. I want to explore that dome. Inside. It looks like the area outside the dome is dangerous."

"That's clever John, really," Archer said, his voice dripping sarcasm and John shot him a withering look. "Obviously, we just about got stomped out there and I am not keen on purposefully putting ourselves in harm's way again... but, the dome..."

"It was cool, but John," I said, spreading my arms away from my body, glancing at an ashen Jade, still coming around on the dirt floor of our hangout. "We don't have enough information to feel good about going back. And look at how sick everyone got."

"Not everyone," Alex said.

That was true. I studied the group. "Who feels okay?"

Alex, Tiff, Randi and myself.

Why? Why some and not others?

John's brow furrowed and he said the words I knew he would, "We're going back." When voices rose in protest he lifted his hand, "There are those of our group that had a greatly reduced manifestation of symptoms. Something mitigated that effect. What was it?"

"Who gives a ripe shit, Terran?" Jonesy asked on a contained shout.

"I do," John replied, his eyes steady on Jonesy. "And you should too. After all, who got us involved in this little jaunt?"

They all knew the answer to that, looking at me.

Parker.

Jeffrey Parker and by association, the crew. That would be the scientists responsible for the gateway into the dome world. Gary and Joe Zondorae.

How had they traveled to the world of Queen Clara and the dome? They were using the dimensional superhighway like Jonesy said. Why were they visiting that world? Graysheets only ever had one thing in mind: exploitation. How had they tapped into what Randi possessed? Were they folding space and time? Distance? I didn't know. But we'd find out. It could be that what was in that world, held answers for ours.