though.
Panic had spread so quickly.
Ditching Autar was a matter of timing.
Leave too soon, and he wouldn’t have been able to plant an optimal
number of seed zombies. Leave too late, and the town would have
been locked down. Being officially evacuated tended to leave a
record.
As it turned out, he felt he had found
the optimum time. Surely he’d be presumed dead, and with Scott
being taken out of the picture, there wasn’t much chance of getting
named in this mess.
Except maybe by Mr. Book. That would
have been sweet, if that useless hunk of lard could have been in
Autar for the party. He won’t speak up though. He has his own butt
to keep safe from blame. Oh yeah. Ole’ Book’s gonna want Coll dead,
no doubt. To heck with hiding from the cops, it was time to hide
from Lancer.
~~~~~
Chapter 9: Crown of Thorns
~~~~~
Evading the larger mobs was becoming
routine to Regan and not all that difficult. It’s difficult to
overlook a couple hundred walking corpses, even at a block or two
away. Also, they weren’t exactly quick to swarm someone who stayed
mindful of an escape route. It would have been very handy to be
able to put VTags on as many zombies as possible, but of course the
tag would just hang there in the virtual air behind the zombie as
it shuffled along.
No, the large mobs weren’t much of a
problem. It was the lone wanderers hiding in the obscure little
nooks, or small groups like the one milling around behind a parked
van Regan had just passed. Yes, they were a threat.
A bloody forearm which had begun to
stink whipped around Regan’s neck from behind. In reactionary
panic, she yelped and tried to push the arm away. It was inhumanly
strong. She felt it tighten enough to start strangling her. She
heard at least one other shuffling up from behind.
Regan fought off the panic and
trembling enough to bring up the P90. Maybe she could fire a burst
into its shoulder to weaken its grip. Firing in such a sloppy
manner would be risky to her too, but she only had a split second
to think about the risks.
Or less. The zombie holding her bit at
the back of her head. Panic crystallized into rage. She bent
forward and pulled the zombie over her, onto the ground in front of
her.
She hopped away, aware of the threats
still behind her, and turned to face them. There were a total of
three of them. She took a moment to quickly check her wound. The
bite mostly got hair, but she was bleeding and it stung
appropriately. Now that she was facing her opponents and had some
space, it was little effort to send them down with her powerful
little rifle. The one that bit her was getting up. She fired a
burst into his head to put him down for good. The other two
continued forward until they met the same end.
She stopped and stared at the one who
had bit her, while she touched her wound again. Ow. Lovely. Does
this mean she’s infected? She dropped to her knees. Fucking lovely.
It ends just like that. And for all she knew, Harold had gotten out
anyway. That’s fine, that’s fine, we can just leave Regan to die in
the ghost town. Nobody would give a damn except maybe Harold
anyway.
She slumped down, posture and optimism
melting until she was flat on her back, staring at the azure sky;
ready to become one of them. What was the difference
now?
The midday silence surrounded her. It
pressed down on her and her three zombie buddies. The silence may
as well have been six feet of dirt.
A sound interrupted Regan’s
self-eulogy. Distant. Gunfire? She sat up, and looked towards the
sound. That building she noticed before far off in the distance
seemed to be the source. Wasn’t that building in a different
direction before? She pulled out the VTag goggles and put them on
to make use of the zoom feature. The building had some kind of
structure on it. She zoomed in closer, closer. The smaller
structure had a man in it, and the man had a big gun. It was
mounted into the building somehow and he was firing it down at the
ground. She
Panic had spread so quickly.
Ditching Autar was a matter of timing.
Leave too soon, and he wouldn’t have been able to plant an optimal
number of seed zombies. Leave too late, and the town would have
been locked down. Being officially evacuated tended to leave a
record.
As it turned out, he felt he had found
the optimum time. Surely he’d be presumed dead, and with Scott
being taken out of the picture, there wasn’t much chance of getting
named in this mess.
Except maybe by Mr. Book. That would
have been sweet, if that useless hunk of lard could have been in
Autar for the party. He won’t speak up though. He has his own butt
to keep safe from blame. Oh yeah. Ole’ Book’s gonna want Coll dead,
no doubt. To heck with hiding from the cops, it was time to hide
from Lancer.
~~~~~
Chapter 9: Crown of Thorns
~~~~~
Evading the larger mobs was becoming
routine to Regan and not all that difficult. It’s difficult to
overlook a couple hundred walking corpses, even at a block or two
away. Also, they weren’t exactly quick to swarm someone who stayed
mindful of an escape route. It would have been very handy to be
able to put VTags on as many zombies as possible, but of course the
tag would just hang there in the virtual air behind the zombie as
it shuffled along.
No, the large mobs weren’t much of a
problem. It was the lone wanderers hiding in the obscure little
nooks, or small groups like the one milling around behind a parked
van Regan had just passed. Yes, they were a threat.
A bloody forearm which had begun to
stink whipped around Regan’s neck from behind. In reactionary
panic, she yelped and tried to push the arm away. It was inhumanly
strong. She felt it tighten enough to start strangling her. She
heard at least one other shuffling up from behind.
Regan fought off the panic and
trembling enough to bring up the P90. Maybe she could fire a burst
into its shoulder to weaken its grip. Firing in such a sloppy
manner would be risky to her too, but she only had a split second
to think about the risks.
Or less. The zombie holding her bit at
the back of her head. Panic crystallized into rage. She bent
forward and pulled the zombie over her, onto the ground in front of
her.
She hopped away, aware of the threats
still behind her, and turned to face them. There were a total of
three of them. She took a moment to quickly check her wound. The
bite mostly got hair, but she was bleeding and it stung
appropriately. Now that she was facing her opponents and had some
space, it was little effort to send them down with her powerful
little rifle. The one that bit her was getting up. She fired a
burst into his head to put him down for good. The other two
continued forward until they met the same end.
She stopped and stared at the one who
had bit her, while she touched her wound again. Ow. Lovely. Does
this mean she’s infected? She dropped to her knees. Fucking lovely.
It ends just like that. And for all she knew, Harold had gotten out
anyway. That’s fine, that’s fine, we can just leave Regan to die in
the ghost town. Nobody would give a damn except maybe Harold
anyway.
She slumped down, posture and optimism
melting until she was flat on her back, staring at the azure sky;
ready to become one of them. What was the difference
now?
The midday silence surrounded her. It
pressed down on her and her three zombie buddies. The silence may
as well have been six feet of dirt.
A sound interrupted Regan’s
self-eulogy. Distant. Gunfire? She sat up, and looked towards the
sound. That building she noticed before far off in the distance
seemed to be the source. Wasn’t that building in a different
direction before? She pulled out the VTag goggles and put them on
to make use of the zoom feature. The building had some kind of
structure on it. She zoomed in closer, closer. The smaller
structure had a man in it, and the man had a big gun. It was
mounted into the building somehow and he was firing it down at the
ground. She
Similar Books
