Zombies! (Episode 10): State of Emergency by Ivan Turner
Authors: Ivan Turner
Tags: Zombies
Ads: Link
the Brooklyn Bridge."
Martin perked up. "You're going to take care of that, though, right? That's why you're here, isn't it."
Henry shook his head, but not in answer to the question. "We are going to take out the mob, hopefully pretty easily. But it broke off from an even larger mob that swarmed the area near City Hall. Whatever's coming across the bridge is only a portion of the whole pack."
"I'll worry about the stragglers when I get there."
"You're not going, Mr. Benjamin. If it wasn't for the snow, I'd have an officer drive you home. As it stands, though, you're just going to have to wait it out in a squad car."
Frustrated, Martin thought about making a break for it. Of course, that kind of rash action would land him in more trouble than he dared think about. Even if he got away from the police, what good would it do when he ran headlong into the mob? There was likely no way through them.
"Wait a minute," he said. "What about Heron? Where's he?"
Henry, just about to turn away, looked at Martin again. This time he was trying to determine whether or not he recognized him. "The lieutenant's no longer with the unit."
"Oh, well, that's rubbish. He runs it, doesn't he?"
"Not anymore." Henry's tone of voice was clipped. Martin couldn't tell whether Heron's dismissal made him happy or angry. "Do you know him?"
"Well," Martin said, wondering whether or not he should backtrack. "A bit, you know? It's my wife that's his friend. She was there at Sisters of Charity. "
"Abby," Henry said. "Your wife's Abby." He had only met her briefly as they'd been freeing the survivors but her name had stuck with him. Of the survivors, she had been the only one not on staff. He also remembered the cool way she had carried herself. It wasn't as if she hadn't been as frightened as all of the others. And she hadn't been a hero. But she'd taken the events as they came. It was almost more than he'd been able to do himself. After that encounter, he'd gone home and shook for an hour. His wife hadn't known what to do for him. Henry had been one of the first people asked to join the zombie squad. He'd initially refused, unwilling to face it again. Later, he'd changed his mind. Now he was a sergeant, a leader.
"Stick with us, Mr. Benjamin," he said. "We'll be pushing across the bridge once we clear it."
Martin nodded. For now, it would have to do.
The lieutenant in charge was a National Guardsman by the name of Olden. He was a short guy but built out with layers of muscle. Martin could hear him shouting even before he could see him through the snow. I don't know what's on the other side of the bridge. Satellite? Are you stupid? All the fucking satellite shows us is snow!
When he came into view, Martin could see that his shouts were directed into a phone. Whoever was on the other end of that line was a subordinate whether he was of lower rank or not. Lieutenant Olden didn't let anyone tell him how to do his business and he didn't like it when his dependencies didn't hold up their ends.
He was just hanging up the phone when he saw Henry and Martin approaching. "What the hell is this?"
"Martin Benjamin, sir," Henry offered.
"He's a civilian."
"Yes, sir. He's come several blocks to warn us, sir."
Martin's eyes went wide. Warn them? Warn them about what?
Olden's eyes fell on Martin. He was wearing a helmet, but nothing to protect his face. He had these wide pupils that seem deceptively innocent. But with the crease in his brow, the very hard line of his personality came through. "Let's have it."
Martin searched for something to say, then remembered the three stragglers. "Well, Lieutenant, I imagine you're satellite imaging is confused by the storm. I've seen several stragglers coming down Tillary and have to assume that they were part of a larger group. As I approached, I noticed that your guard was light from that end."
Olden's face burned red for a
Martin perked up. "You're going to take care of that, though, right? That's why you're here, isn't it."
Henry shook his head, but not in answer to the question. "We are going to take out the mob, hopefully pretty easily. But it broke off from an even larger mob that swarmed the area near City Hall. Whatever's coming across the bridge is only a portion of the whole pack."
"I'll worry about the stragglers when I get there."
"You're not going, Mr. Benjamin. If it wasn't for the snow, I'd have an officer drive you home. As it stands, though, you're just going to have to wait it out in a squad car."
Frustrated, Martin thought about making a break for it. Of course, that kind of rash action would land him in more trouble than he dared think about. Even if he got away from the police, what good would it do when he ran headlong into the mob? There was likely no way through them.
"Wait a minute," he said. "What about Heron? Where's he?"
Henry, just about to turn away, looked at Martin again. This time he was trying to determine whether or not he recognized him. "The lieutenant's no longer with the unit."
"Oh, well, that's rubbish. He runs it, doesn't he?"
"Not anymore." Henry's tone of voice was clipped. Martin couldn't tell whether Heron's dismissal made him happy or angry. "Do you know him?"
"Well," Martin said, wondering whether or not he should backtrack. "A bit, you know? It's my wife that's his friend. She was there at Sisters of Charity. "
"Abby," Henry said. "Your wife's Abby." He had only met her briefly as they'd been freeing the survivors but her name had stuck with him. Of the survivors, she had been the only one not on staff. He also remembered the cool way she had carried herself. It wasn't as if she hadn't been as frightened as all of the others. And she hadn't been a hero. But she'd taken the events as they came. It was almost more than he'd been able to do himself. After that encounter, he'd gone home and shook for an hour. His wife hadn't known what to do for him. Henry had been one of the first people asked to join the zombie squad. He'd initially refused, unwilling to face it again. Later, he'd changed his mind. Now he was a sergeant, a leader.
"Stick with us, Mr. Benjamin," he said. "We'll be pushing across the bridge once we clear it."
Martin nodded. For now, it would have to do.
The lieutenant in charge was a National Guardsman by the name of Olden. He was a short guy but built out with layers of muscle. Martin could hear him shouting even before he could see him through the snow. I don't know what's on the other side of the bridge. Satellite? Are you stupid? All the fucking satellite shows us is snow!
When he came into view, Martin could see that his shouts were directed into a phone. Whoever was on the other end of that line was a subordinate whether he was of lower rank or not. Lieutenant Olden didn't let anyone tell him how to do his business and he didn't like it when his dependencies didn't hold up their ends.
He was just hanging up the phone when he saw Henry and Martin approaching. "What the hell is this?"
"Martin Benjamin, sir," Henry offered.
"He's a civilian."
"Yes, sir. He's come several blocks to warn us, sir."
Martin's eyes went wide. Warn them? Warn them about what?
Olden's eyes fell on Martin. He was wearing a helmet, but nothing to protect his face. He had these wide pupils that seem deceptively innocent. But with the crease in his brow, the very hard line of his personality came through. "Let's have it."
Martin searched for something to say, then remembered the three stragglers. "Well, Lieutenant, I imagine you're satellite imaging is confused by the storm. I've seen several stragglers coming down Tillary and have to assume that they were part of a larger group. As I approached, I noticed that your guard was light from that end."
Olden's face burned red for a
Similar Books
