Deadman's Switch & Sunder the Hollow Ones by Saul Tanpepper Page B

lobby. “I don’t think we need to worry about Stephen. He’s standing right over there.”
    We look out across the terminal and see a figure silhouetted against the tinted glass. It’s him, Stephen. As we watch, he raises his hands to his head, shudders, then staggers backward, and falls quivering to the floor.
    Â 

Chapter 9

    Â 
    â€œI say we shoot him,” Jake says.
    â€œYou don’t get to speak,” Reggie tells him. “Especially about shooting.”
    Jake narrows his eyes at Reggie, but he backs down.
    I ignore them both and instead kneel down right in front of Stephen, who’s now sitting up again and staring out the window. There’s a dazed look in his eyes.
    â€œHe’s screwing with us, making us think he’s psycho.”
    â€œHe is psycho, Jake.”
    â€œWhy the hell would he do that?” I ask, suddenly furious. “Why not just run when he had the chance? He could be long gone by now.”
    â€œWhere’s he going to run to? There’s nowhere to go out there. You said it yourself, Jessie.”
    â€œThe tunnel,” Kelly offers. “There’s nothing keeping him from walking through it.”
    â€œThere’s nothing keeping you from walking through it, either,” Jake snaps. “Or Jessie.”
    â€œI can think of four reasons,” I tell him. “No, five.”
    Jake stubbornly refuses to budge. “He’s messing with our minds, getting under our skin. Just shoot him.”
    â€œHe might be getting under your skin,” Reggie snaps, “but you’re getting under mine.”
    I shake my head at them both to get them to stop, but they’re too amped up to see how their arguing isn’t helping
    â€œPut him out of our misery.”
    â€œDamn it, Jake!” Reggie shouts. “Would you quit with the shooting already?”
    â€œWhat the hell’s your problem?”
    â€œYou want to know what my problem is? Jessie told you back there not to shoot. Not only did you not listen, you nearly took my freaking head off!”
    â€œI had that IU dead to rights! One more shot and—”
    â€œOne more shot and we’d be completely out of bullets, Jake,” I whisper. “Now that’s enough. Both of you shut the hell up.”
    Everyone stops for a moment. I can’t tell if they’re impressed that I had the presence of mind back there to have counted the shots or if they’re afraid of me, of what I might become because of the infected blood all over me. It must be the first, because they start right back up again.
    â€œWhat the hell good is a bullet if you don’t use it?”
    â€œWhat the hell good is a bullet if it doesn’t hit the target?” Reggie replies. “Or worse, it hits one of us?”
    â€œAll right. Calm down, both of you,” Kelly quietly says. “And, Jake, give me back that pistol before you hurt somebody.”
    â€œI don’t have it.”
    â€œWhere the hell is it?”
    â€œHow should I know? Jessie knocked it out of my hand.”
    The blood is drying on my skin, making it feel tight. My overalls are soaked with it. I want to scrub it all away with scalding hot water and bleach—not that I’ll find either of those here in this wretched place.
    I follow Stephen’s gaze out through the dark tinted glass. The window is filthy, clouded with a dozen years of soot and dust and acid rain and who knows what else. The early afternoon sunlight is behind us, so the window’s now cast in shade, making the room even darker than it was this morning. Outside, nothing moves.
    â€œWhat is he looking at?”
    â€œI don’t see anything,” Reggie says.
    I snap my fingers in front of Stephen’s face. He blinks but doesn’t respond.
    â€œIt’s like he’s waiting for something. Like maybe a whole bunch of zombies.”
    Reggie snorts. “Yeah, Jake. Whose skin is he getting under