Author: Derek

Mumbai, India; 30 September 2011, 1500 hours local; Countdown: 3 months

Alan, the Truth’s strongest sorcerer, looked up as his leader walked into the apartment. Castle was still recovering from his injuries. It made the Truth’s leader a cranky man. Considering how many times Alan had been cut, shot, burned, and blown up in the service of the Truth, he wasn’t feeling all that sympathetic just because Castle got knocked out by the blast of one of Zombie Strike’s grenades. Alan rubbed the scar on his face and once again silently promised vengeance against that short Brit with the grenade launcher.

"Mikhail hasn’t returned?" Castle asked as he dropped into one of the over-stuffed chair’s in the apartment’s sitting room. An acolyte bustled over with Castle’s tea.

"No. Our operation in Belize ran into some opposition," Alan said, joining Castle in the sitting room.

"Zombie Strike?" Castle asked, snarling as he spoke the name. Alan noticed the venom in his leader’s voice. For the past couple of years, Castle just considered Zombie Strike an annoyance. Mateo Cortez, Zombie Strike’s field leader, figured heavily in the prophecies guiding the Truth, but other than that, Castle always dismissed the team. Not anymore.

"Surprisingly, an armed response team from that insurance firm," Alan answered. Castle grunted in response.

"Is there some reason we don’t have our people in the British government just close that firm down?" Alan asked.

"MacKenzie and Winston isn’t your normal insurance firm," Castle answered, "They don’t sell car insurance or anything else so petty. They insure things like large corporations, NGOs, governments, and other insurance firms. According to our cat’s-paws in the British government, M&W threatened to destroy the international economy if we try to shutter them."

"Worse than it is now?" Alan asked incredulously. Between the destruction of Earth’s satellite constellation and the instability caused from constant zombie outbreaks, the world economy was going through a depression at least as bad as the Great Depression.

"I believe them. The economy’s bad, but the foundations are there. M&W could tear things apart so bad we wouldn’t have anything to work with after the coming of the Flayed One." Castle drained his glass and looked at Alan. "Speaking of the coming, have you had any success with the Key?"

"No. I have my people going back through the prophecies that deal with the Key to see if we missed something." Castle frowned at Alan’s words, but he didn’t say anything. Alan felt the opening and took it. "I don’t think that artifact is the actual Key."

"What do you mean?" Castle asked, sitting up in surprise.

"It’s got some power, but it’s not as strong as I would expect from something like the Key. Not nearly enough," Alan said. "One of the things I’m doing is looking at what actually happened in Mexico when Mikhail retrieved it. Thank the Flayed One our soldiers were meticulous in their reports."

"If that isn’t the Key, then where is it?" Castle asked.

Skull Island, 30 September 2011; 1300 hours local; Countdown: 3 months

Quentin McLintock stood in front of the team shuffling his notes. He looked up at the team. They were such a strange group of survivors. All of them were scarred physically or emotionally or both. Still, these were his friends. His family. He wished he could give them better news. Quentin straightened his shoulders and tried to keep his fear from showing.

"Jess and I have been examining all of the material surrounding the prophecies we’ve harvested from our raids on the Truth’s strongholds. They pretty much wrote down anything one of their prophets said. I’m pretty sure the Truth hasn’t figured out all of what’s actually prophecy and what are the nonsensical ramblings of a madman. They were nice enough to leave some passages highlighted for us." There was a dark chuckle from the team.

"We found the date of Xipe Totec’s coming," Quentin announced, "It’s going to be a busy New Year’s Eve."

"How sure are you on this?" Chief Stahl asked.

"I’m very confidant. Several different prophets mention that the coming will happen on the turning before the Mayan calendar will reset. That happens December of next year. Two of the prophets mention that it will occur between the invaders’ years. I consulted with some experts and the consensus is that means the night of December 31st."

"Have you figured out what I’m supposed to do with all of this?" Mateo asked. Quentin looked over at his friend and leader. Quentin didn’t know the details, but Mateo hadn’t been himself since Robyn suddenly packed up and left a while back. Since then, Mateo was emotionally distant from the team and focused on two things: stopping the Truth and killing Giant.

"There’s mention of a Chooser, an Undecided, a Champion, a Betrayer, and a Key," Quentin said. "We know Chief Stahl is the Undecided. Giant told us that back in South Africa. I think the Key is what they were after Mexico City was destroyed, but the passages aren’t clear if the Key is an artifact or a person. I think the Champion is Giant, but I could be wrong."

"I can’t believe Mateo would be a Betrayer," Jess said, looking at her foster father. He didn’t say anything. Jess tried to comfort Mateo after Robyn left, but he was just as distant with her as with the rest of the team.

"Have you figured out where this coming is supposed to occur?" Stahl asked.

"Not really. There’s mention of a city of the dead or a city of death. It’s not exactly clear. The best I can tell you is that it’s on the North American continent."

"Way to narrow the field mate," Sport said sarcastically. Quentin frowned at the diminutive Brit. Of all of Zombie Strike, Sport was the one Quentin knew the least about and disliked the most. The man just ran too hot and cold. Sometimes he was the best team player, others it was like he hated everyone.

"Actually, there might be a way. Depending on how much you trust you put in these prophecies," Quentin replied. Mateo motioned for him to continue. "One of the passages is a long speech by a former conquistador who the Aztecs turned into a prophet."

"How’d they do that?" Jim asked.

"You don’t want to know," Jess answered, visibly shaking, "That was one thing I wish I could unread and purge from my mind."

"It’s pretty gruesome and only worked a couple of times," Quentin continued, "This one though talked about how the Undecided would find the place of the coming. He would return to the beginning of the word."

"Go back to the beginning of the word? What the hell does that mean?" asked Stahl.

"I was getting to that. From my studies of this sect of Xipe Totec worshippers, the words for word and truth are used interchangeably. To speak the word is to speak the truth sort of thing. We have to go back to the beginning of the Truth."

"Dude, does The Steve and everyone have to go back to that island with the temple?" The Steve asked. Quentin shuddered as memories of Zombie Strike’s first battle with the forces of Xipe Totec.

"No," answered Kenn Blanchard as he walked into the conference room. "It means we have to go back to where the Truth was formed. Where Castle discovered the first artifact and the prophecies that would guide him."

"You know where this is?" Mateo asked.

"After Quentin told me what he’d found, I had a little chat with M&W. After some discussion, they released everything for distribution." Mateo gave Kenn a hard stare.

"They’ve been holding information back from us?" Mateo asked, "Even now, they’ve been holding back information? You tell our superiors in M&W that if I find out something they held back got one of my people killed or injured, there will be a reckoning." Mateo’s voice was cold as dry ice as he spoke. Kenn just nodded.

"So, where exactly are we jetting off to?" Jim asked, trying to diffuse the sudden tension in the room.

"At first, Barcelona."

Zombie Strike Part 10 Chapter 98

Nealson Rehabilitation Clinic, 30 August 2011, 1000 hours local; Countdown: 4 months, 1 day

Steve Mountain opened and closed his left hand. He felt all of the little electric motors working as they translated the signals from his brain to the artificial muscles and nerves in his new hand. The docs told him it was all phantom feeling. The actual nanotech and pizeo-electronics were far too small for the nerves in his wrist to detect. As a medic, Steve could intellectually understand it, but he still felt it every time he opened and closed his hand.

"Still feel weird?" Quentin McLintock asked as he walked into Steve’s room. Quentin had been a guest of this same facility when he’d lost part of his right leg. In fact, a lot of the same hardware used in Quentin’s prosthetic was used for Steve’s new hand. Quentin went with Steve to help his teammate adjust to the advanced prosthetic. Steve smiled as Quentin sat down. The gentle giant was more of a help during the real rough times than Steve really wanted to admit.

"The Steve wonders how something can feel so sharp and so alien at the same time," Steve said.

"Yeah. I imagine it’s stronger in a hand than it was in my leg. Sometimes when I’m standing on a rocky path, I know exactly how many stones are under my right foot," Quentin said. For how amazing the technology was at the Nealson clinic, there were still limitations to the human sensations the prosthetics could replicate. Touch was the worst. Steve’s hand could tell him the temperature of what he was holding within a thousandth of a degree, give him some sensation of pain if the temperature exceeded what the hand should hold, but Steve would never be able to feel hot or cold like every other person took for granted. The best analogy was to imagine that your eyes were replaced with HD television screens. Utterly precise in their rendering, but not quite the human sense the body was accustomed to using.

"So how did this morning go?" Quentin asked cautiously.

"The Steve did pretty decent. Even assisted in some minor surgery," Steve answered. "Doc Jewel was mighty impressed with The Steve’s medical ability." Quentin chuckled.

"Not surprising considering how much experience you’ve had patching us up," Quentin said, "Not counting your chemistry skills." Steve just shrugged his shoulders. He’d never admit to Quentin, but the happy juice cocktail had been more of an accident than something he’d meant to brew. One of the nice things about Zombie Strike being based outside of the US. Steve didn’t have to deal with the busybodies from the FDA.

"On a more serious note, we need to get back to Skull Island," Quentin said.

"The Steve figured as much. Docs don’t like it, but we’re flying out tomorrow."

Skull Island, 30 August 2011, 0800 hours local; Countdown: 4 months, 1 day

Mateo Cortez stared at the report on his screen. It was starting to blur. He rubbed his eyes and reached for coffee cup. Empty. As he looked at the Styrofoam cup, he felt the last of his adrenaline burst fall away. He was tired. Maybe he should get some sleep. When was the last time? He looked over at the clock. Oh that explained it. He’d been up for about thirty-six hours.

"Why am I not surprised you’re here?" a frustrated female voice said at the door of the conference room. Mateo turned to see Robyn standing in the doorway. Her face was a mixture of relief and anger. Mateo felt a flash of guilt. He promised Robyn he would go to bed around midnight last night, but there was so much to do. Between zombie outbreaks and fighting Truth attacks in the few friendly countries, Zombie Strike was being run ragged. Then there was Mateo’s special project.

"Robyn, I’m sorry. I lost track of time," Mateo apologized. The anger on Robyn’s face lessened, but it didn’t vanish.

"You’ve been saying that a lot," she replied coldly. Robyn stopped and took a deep breath. She walked into the conference room. She still needed to use crutches or a pair of canes, but she was able to walk. That was only because of intense surgery and physical therapy combined with her own iron determination. As much as it hurt Mateo to watch her struggle to make it to one of the chairs, he was also incredibly proud of this woman. It surprised him when she more or less forced herself into his life, but now he didn’t want to think about life without her.

"I know, and I am sorry. You’ve been dealing with a lot, and I haven’t been there," Mateo said. Robyn gave him a surprised look.

"Did you ask what Jess to say to calm me down?" Robyn asked, half-joking. Mateo’s face reddened. "My God, you did?"

"Sort of," Mateo said, "The feelings are mine, but she did help me with sorting them out and putting words to them. One of the things that doomed my marriage with Maria is I never knew how to talk to her. What she needed to hear from me. And I never took the time to find out. Call it machismo, pride, or whatever. I don’t want to make that same mistake again."

"Words are all good, but actions speak more," Robyn said, "I know what we’re facing, but as much as the world needs Zombie Strike, I need you." Mateo leaned back in his chair. This wasn’t how he wanted to do this.

"You’re right," Mateo said. He leaned in and took Robyn’s hands in his. Fear gripped him as he looked into Robyn’s eyes. He mentally slapped himself. He’d faced off against all sorts of horror. This shouldn’t be this terrifying.

"Robyn, will you marry me?" he asked softly. Robyn’s eyes filled with sudden tears.

"No," she answered just as softly.

St. Louis, Missouri, 1 Sept 2011, 1930 hours local; Countdown: 4 months

She’d been called many things in this world. Demon, the Little Death, vampire were all names she’d heard since her master sent her to this horrific world. She hated this world. Nothing made sense. The very laws of this world were so different than those of her home. The master sent her because she could adapt to new worlds and their rules quickly. She was a scout. That was what the master created her to do for her people. It didn’t make this world’s rules any saner.

She looked around at the deserted buildings as she clung to the wall of one of the skyscrapers. The zombie hordes staggering on the streets below never noticed her presence. She hated the horrible things. Dead things should stay dead, not as mockeries of what they once were. Her master would correct that as soon as he and the people came into this world.

"I should be grateful to those horrid things," she said to herself, practicing the crude communication of this world. "They keep those meddlesome humans away from this place." The trip to this place was not something she ever wanted to do again. Only being able to travel at night was bad enough. Having to drink the humans’ blood rather than just ripping out their life energies was revolting. She shook in remembered disgust as she climbed from her perch to the top of the building.

The two humans cringed as she returned to her nest. They were dressed similar to those humans she fought when she came into this world. The weapons were the same. Yet, these weren’t knights for one of the deities that nominally claimed this world. They served this odd human notion of a nation. America. What a silly name. She grabbed the skinny one. She needed to contact the master. The human screamed as she carved the symbols into him. Its screams stopped as she opened the portal.

"I have found the place, master," she said as her mind blissfully met the master’s. He looked into her mind and drew out everything she had seen in this world.

"Not where I expected," came the reply. The master’s words filled her mind like pure ecstasy. How she hated being separated from him. "You have done well my child. We will soon join you. Your sacrifice will be rewarded." The portal closed, and the dark coldness of this world enveloped her.

"I will be rewarded," she repeated to herself. Her thoughts drifted back to the human with the bauble. The one that nearly killed her. She knew what she wanted for her reward. She wanted to take that human apart and savor its pain as she fed from him. The thought of food made her realize she was suddenly ravenous. Well, that’s why she snatched two of the humans.

Zombie Strike Part 10 Chapter 97

Truth Compound, South Africa, 8 July 2011, 2045 hours local; Countdown: 5 months, 23 days

Steve Mountain barely brought up his carbine before Giant’s whip lashed down him. The mystical leather cord sliced through the weapon and the front of his armor like an industrial laser. Steve let the halves of his weapon clatter to the ground as he slid back from the enraged Champion of the Truth. Giant brought the whip back up. Well, Steve wondered how he was going to buy it. A rescue mission was as good as anything else. Jim’s big lever action boomed and Giant was snapped back by the big .500 S&W bullet. The whip missed cutting Steve down the middle. Instead, it took off all the fingers on his left hand.

Steve screamed in pain. The unnatural sound echoed through the room. His old trained reactions took over. Steve triggered the pain meds to dump into his system. He didn’t have a whole lot of time. Suddenly, Jess was helping him take off his gauntlet and glove. Just as he’d shown her time and time again, Jess applied the tourniquet. As Steve looked up, he saw a mountain of white fur between him and Giant. Billy was doing his super-size thing again. Jess grunted as she grabbed his armor’s drag handle and pulled him back from Giant’s whip. Kenn and Jim were pouring fire into their nemesis. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would drive him back. Kenn’s KRISS sounded strange next to the clackety-clack-boom of Jim’s lever action. As those two ran dry, Chief Stahl and Quentin started their turn. It was hard for Steve to concentrate on the action. The pain was barely eased by the drugs running through his system. In the haze of pain, Steve wondered if anyone bothered to pick up his fingers. Maybe if they got them on ice quickly, the docs could sew them back on.

"Boss wants you Jess. I’m to watch him," Sport said, dropping next to Steve. The Brit slung his grenade launcher and was now cradling his scattergun.

"I can’t leave him like this. What if he crashes? Kenn’s going to have to just fight this one without me," Jess replied keeping her eyes on the readout from Steve’s PDA.

"Not Kenn," Sport replied before firing a heavy slug at Giant. He got a bellow of pain for his effort. Jess cursed under her breath. She turned Steve’s head so he could look at her face.

"Steve, I think you’re as stable as we’re going to get here," Jess told him. Steve nodded, gritting back the effort it took for that much movement. He’d gone a little too heavy on the drugs. Okay, so he wasn’t as immune to panic as he imagined. "I’ve to go see what Mateo wants." The whip cracked again. There was another scream of pain. Jess’s face paled as she looked up.

"Too bad for the Frenchie," was all Sport said. Jess sprinted to the back of the room. Surprisingly, Billy stayed where he was between Steve and Giant. Steve could feel his own body rumble as the spirit-wolf pup growled.

"Just accept your fate," Giant said his voice full of vengeance. "You can’t kill me. All you can do is delay the inevitable. Once you have used up all of your little bullets, I will kill all of you slowly and painfully."

"Oh don’t worry Giant," Chief Stahl said, "We brought lots of ammo." As if to demonstrate, the chief fired a long burst into Giant. "We can keep this up a long time."

"I will punish you Undecided, and your team will be destroyed!" Giant shouted in frustration. "You will not leave here alive!"

"MIKHAIL!" a new voice shouted. Everything went quiet as all Giant and Zombie Strike recognized the voice of Mateo Cortez. The Zombie Strike field leader waited as tension built. Steve watched as Mateo walked up behind his shooters.

"Mateo, you are needed alive, but not necessarily whole," Giant threatened, his voice dripping with menace. "Take your woman and put yourself in the hands of my Champions. If you don’t, I’ll kill your team – and your woman. While you watch." Steve watched his friend and leader. The man didn’t as much as twitch.

"Mikhail, as much as it annoys me to do this, I will give you one chance to take Castle and leave," Mateo said. Giant erupted into an uncontrollable spasm of laughter. Mateo just stood there calmly as the big man brought himself back under control.

"Don’t you understand Mateo? You’ve lost. Your precious team has lost. You are in the Truth’s control, and you will fulfill your role as the prophecies have foretold. Why are you fighting so hard against your destiny?" Giant asked.

"God gave me free will to do as I choose. I don’t believe in destiny. I do believe in the ability of my sharpshooters," Mateo said. Giant stood straight, confused by Mateo’s statement. "Right now, one is aiming at your precious Castle’s head." Mateo motioned to the unconscious form of the Truth’s supreme leader and high priest.

"The other is aiming at me," Mateo said, delivering the line as if he were ordering a meal, "If you don’t cooperate, they’ll both fire. You can shield me or Castle. Not both. Lose your high priest or me. Maybe both."

"You just told me you don’t believe you have a destiny," Giant temporized as he looked between Mateo and the limp form of Castle.

"Yeah, but you do. You believe that through every fiber of your body," Mateo answered. "You know I’ll do it, too." Long, tense seconds ticked by as Giant and Mateo stared at each other. No one dared move.

"So how do we do this?" Giant finally asked. Mateo’s face broke into a predatory grin.

"First, you’ll send out the Gazelle Two-Seven order," Mateo said. Giant’s eyes went wide in surprise. Mateo’s smile widened. "Oh yeah, I know all about your little codes. We’ll wait for five minutes after you give it, and then you can pick up Castle and walk right on out of here. Though, before you think you can just rally your folks outside and ambush us, just remember. I still have moles on the inside of your little organization. We’re worse than the old KGB that way. They all have orders to kill Castle if you try to betray me, and they had full access to everything you were keeping in this little resort."

"You’re lying! I don’t believe you," snarled Giant.

"Yes you do," Mateo answered, "Or more to the point, you can’t take the chance I’m telling the truth. Now, give the order." Giant raised his wrist.

"This is Mikhail. Gazelle Two-Seven. Gazelle Two-Seven." The team could hear the pounding of foot falls as the Truth evacuated their compound. Mateo looked down at his watch. The rest of the team kept their guard. No sense for some idiot Truther to come barging in and getting everyone killed. As much as he hated to admit it, Steve was kind of glad for the tension as the five minutes slowly ticked by. At least it gave him something other than his hand to focus on.

"Five minutes," Mateo said calmly, looking up from his watch. Giant carefully lifted Castle’s form and started for the door.

"One more thing Mikhail," Mateo said just before Giant opened the door.

"What?" he asked, spinning back towards his hated enemy.

"Stay off my island."

Zombie Strike Part 9 Chapter 96 – Epilogue