Odessa, Ukraine; 4 October 2011, 1425 hours local; Countdown: 2 months, 27 days

Quentin McLintock charged the sorcerer as the man began uttering words to a spell. Like most folks, the sorcerer didn’t realize exactly how fast someone Quentin’s size could move. One moment, the Truth sorcerer was waving his hands and chanting, the next Quentin was slamming the four-foot iron rebar into the man’s midsection. Quentin felt the ribcage give way as the iron bar folded the man in half. The sorcerer grunted and fell to the ground. He didn’t get back up. Quentin whirled on the next sorcerer to take down. The shock wave picked him up and threw him into a wall of the courtyard. As Quentin looked up, he saw what caused the blast. Alan stood in the middle of the courtyard, his scarred face scowling as blood poured from his now-broken nose. Jim must have gotten in his first lick. The cowboy picked himself up off the cobblestone ground and dusted himself off. Jim gave Alan a satisfied grin.

"Not expecting that?" Jim asked.

"I’ll admit that you caught me off-guard," Alan said, wiping the blood with hand, "So, you’ve hurt me. You got your lick in. Now, do me a favor and go away before I have to kill you."

"You’re still not getting it Alan. I’m not letting you leave this courtyard alive. You’ve caused enough damage," Jim said. Before Alan could respond, Jim charged the Truth’s lead sorcerer. Alan threw his hand up to cast a shield. Jim bounced off the sudden energy barrier, but he didn’t fall back. Instead, Jim angled the bounce to hit a wall to Alan’s right, and launched off from the wall to attack the sorcerer from a new direction. It was like human billiards. Alan tried to swing his shield around, but Jim’s fist connected with the sorcerer’s body first. Alan grunted and slid back a few feet.

"Nice trick Jim," Alan grunted, holding his injured side, "Looks like I’m going to have to actually take you seriously."

"About time," Jim answered, wrapping his scraped and bleeding fists with a couple of handkerchiefs.

"Just to make it clear, I don’t want to kill you. I’ll stop the moment you relent," Alan said, trying to plead with the cowboy.

"Don’t you worry about that. I’ll relent when you’re dead," Jim said. The courtyard grew silent. Everyone’s attention was riveted on the two combatants. Jim and Alan were still as statues as they stared at each other. Tense moments passed.

"DIE!" Alan yelled, releasing a bolt of black-purple energy. Jim slid under the bolt like a baseball player sliding into home plate. Alan stepped back as Jim leapt up with a punch. Jim pressed forward with a fast series of jabs. Quentin recognized the movements from Chief Stahl’s training sessions, but these were faster and more fluid. Alan blocked the strikes, but just barely. He was clearly surprised by Jim’s sudden speed. Alan snap kicked the cowboy, but Jim slid to the side to avoid the blow. It was a trap Jim saw just before Alan thrust a glowing hand into the cowboy’s chest. Jim screamed in pain as the blow drove him to the ground. Jim could barely breathe as he tried to stand. Alan strode over to stand over Jim.

"Why? Why did you try this?" the sorcerer demanded, "I gave you chance after chance to avoid this fate. Now you’re going to die in some far-off land. What made you think you could kill me?" Jim reached to the small of his back and pulled something out. With impossible speed, Jim leapt up and grabbed the Truth sorcerer. Before Alan could react, Jim drove the small knife into his chest. Thunder rocked the courtyard. Alan staggered back, looking at the crude knife in disbelief.

"Made a deal with the spirits of Raven and Coyote. Seems they were a might bit put out when you defiled their holy ground back in Wyoming. I kill you, and they’ll see about getting your curse off my daughter. Seemed a fair trade," Jim said, still holding the burn from Alan’s chest strike.

"Spirit knife?" Alan asked. Blood came out of his mouth as he spoke. Jim just nodded. Alan looked around. "I should have believed the Levant scroll." His eyes focused on Jess. A look of sudden realization came across his face.

"Why didn’t I see it before?" Alan asked, staring at Jess. The girl brought up her rifle as the sorcerer took a step before. "Of course, you’re the —-" Before he could finish the sentence, Alan crumpled to the ground. Sudden memories flooded Quentin’s mind. He jumped up and sprinted across the courtyard. He quickly grabbed his two friends and fled down the nearest alley. He’d barely made twenty feet before the courtyard erupted in a mystical explosion. The next thing Quentin knew, he was on the ground. The three zombie hunters shakily stood up. Billy jumped down from a nearby roof. Jess let out a happy squeal as the spirit wolf snuggled up next to her.

"Jim, are you good to go?" Quentin asked, looking at the cowboy. Jim gave a pained smile.

"Good enough," Jim wheezed. Quentin gave him a skeptical look. Jim’s chest still looked like he’d run into a hot iron, and it sounded like he’d broken some ribs. Jim waved off Quentin’s concern. "I’m hurt, but we need to get to that truck. The team needs us if we’re going to survive to find the city of the dead." Jess walked over and examined the wounds.

"Jim, we need to get you back to The Steve," Jess said.

"Fastest way to do that is to get the truck," the cowboy insisted.

"I don’t like it, but he’s right," Quentin said. "Jess, take the point with Billy. Jim, you stay close and be careful." Jess gave Quentin a cold stare, but didn’t say anything. She stormed up the alley with Billy in tow. The pup’s tail swished nervously. Quentin helped Jim out of the alley, each man holding a pistol. The quartet picked their way through the streets. Something about the magic explosion from Alan’s death pushed the zombie hordes away from this part of the city. They could hear the echoing moans, but they didn’t come across a single undead. Quentin smiled bitterly as they reached the truck. He carefully lifted Jim into the driver’s seat. The cowboy was weak, but he dismissed all of Quentin’s attempts to have him lie down. Jim was the best driver Zombie Strike had, especially for large vehicles. Jim waited as Jess and Billy climbed up on the roof. He gave Quentin a confident smile and put the truck in gear. Even hurting and weak, Jim easily navigated the large SUV through the streets of Odessa. Jess’s rifle cracked as zombies tried to stop them. Jim rolled over a few more. In a few minutes, they were behind the rest of the team.

"Let’s go," Mateo said as the truck pulled up. Zombie Strike loaded the wounded Seraph into the truck before piling in. As soon as the Chief closed the rear door, Jim spun the truck back to the docks. He didn’t even give Jess the chance to kill zombies. He simply sped past the few hordes that tried to get in their way. In less than ten minutes, Jim was crashing through the marina’s gate and sliding the truck next to the docks. At Mateo’s command, Zombie Strike leapt out of the truck and stormed onto the yacht. As expected, there was no one aboard. Chief Stahl and Sport sprinted to the ship’s control deck as Quentin started cutting the ropes. He’d cut three before he realized Jim wasn’t on the boat.

"Matt, where’s Jim?" Quentin yelled. The team leader looked back at him in surprise.

"What he’s not with you?" Mateo asked back. The two immediately sprinted back to the truck. They found their friend behind the wheel looking all the world as if he was asleep. Except he wasn’t breathing. Quentin gingerly lifted Jim’s lifeless body out of the truck’s cab. He fought back tears. Quentin knew Jim had been hurt worse than he’d let on. Why didn’t he force Jim to go back to The Steve? Mateo gripped Quentin’s shoulder and gave him a knowing look. Wordlessly, the two zombie hunters walked back to the ship. There would be time to talk after they’d made their escape. As they laid Jim’s body down on the deck, the Guardians appeared. Quentin gave the two stone-faced Aztecs a murderous look. If they noticed it, they ignored it.

"So where are we supposed to go now?" Quentin demanded.

"The sorcerer told you," the Guardians answered. Quentin stared at them as his mind replayed the battle in the courtyard. What had Alan said that told him where to go? His mind came to Alan’s dying words. He should have paid attention to the… Quentin dashed up to where Chief Stahl and Sport were easing the ship out of port.

"We need to get to Jerusalem as fast as possible. The last clue is about to be destroyed."

Zombie Strike Part 10 Chapter 105

Odessa, Ukraine; 4 October 2011, 1300 hours local; Countdown: 2 months, 27 days

Quentin McLintock dropped the empty magazine out of his pistol and quickly slammed another home. He hit the slide release and brought the pistol back up. Two rounds of 10mm brought the zombie down. It was just a bit too close. Seraph groaned in pain behind him. If Quentin didn’t link back up with the rest of the team, she was going to bleed out. Assuming he could survive the next few minutes.

"Matt, where are you guys?" Quentin asked over the radio. The Truth was obviously very annoyed with Zombie Strike for going after its close-held secrets. They pretty much cleared out Odessa’s downtown and brought in hordes of zombies with minion controllers. Just to add fun, they also brought gollums and a group of sorcerers. It was a gollum’s axe responsible for the nasty gash in Seraph’s midsection. Maybe if that vision hadn’t sucked all of Zombie Strike in, they would have been prepared for the ambush. As it was, Quentin, Seraph, Sport, and Seraph’s French agent, Marc had been split off from the rest of the team.

"I have no clue," Mateo answered, "Everything’s in Cyrillic. We could be a block from you, we could be a mile. I hate these old cities." Quentin looked around him. His little team found cover behind the wreckage of some construction equipment. The minion controlling the small horde in front of Quentin actually melted a bulldozer with a beam from his artifact. Unfortunately for the minion, he couldn’t generate a blast that powerful and keep up a shield. Sport’s slug nearly decapitated the minion.

"Seraph’s hurt bad," Quentin reported. He looked around. "Matt, can you see that church spire about fifty feet up with the gilded cross?"

"Looks brand-new?" Matt asked, "Yeah, it’s to my ten o’clock, maybe a couple of hundred yards." Quentin consulted the map on the PDA strapped to his forearm and did some quick calculations.

"I think we’re about six blocks west of you," Quentin said, "Can you get to us? I don’t want to move Seraph if at possible." There was a moment of tense silence.

"Yeah, the chief thinks so. Hole up and see if you can think up an extract," Mateo answered. Quentin let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He looked down at the beautiful woman. She looked so weak holding the blood soaked bandage to her side.

"Marc, you and Sport keep that horde off of us," Quentin said. The Frenchman looked at Quentin with wide eyes.

"Are you mad?" Marc asked, "You want me to fight the undead with this?" He shook the Glock 17 Sport handed him earlier. Quentin grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and lifted him off the ground.

"Yes with that pistol, and when that runs out, either find another or pick up a stone to throw at them. You will fight them until you are dead or we’re extracted, do you understand me?" Marc paled as his eyes locked onto Quentin’s cold dark eyes. The French agent swallowed hard and wordlessly nodded. Quentin released him and bent down to Seraph.

"Hold on Seraph, help’s on the way," Quentin said quietly, stroking the woman’s hair. She looked up and gave him a mirthless smile.

"You think even your pill pusher can fix this up?" she asked, every word wracking her form with pain.

"He’s dealt with worse," Quentin said, trying to look confident. He looked down at his PDA. How were they supposed to get everyone out of this city? They’d driven into the city in Seraph’s huge, slightly armored SUV. From some pirated television signals, Quentin saw most of the downtown was flooded with groups of undead. They were trapped between the Black Sea and zombies. How were they going to get out? As he stared at the map, the solution smacked him in the face.

"Quentin, hold your fire," Mateo said, startling the big man out of his thoughts, "We’re coming up your back." Quentin looked up as Chief Stahl and The Steve trotted over from a building corner. Chief Stahl moved up to help Sport and Marc. The Steve hands were already yanking all sorts of medical gear as he kneeled down next to Seraph.

"Got this dude. Don’t worry. The Steve will fix up your lady friend good," The Steve said, his trademark smile plastered on his face as inspected the wound. The Steve thumbed back to where the rest of the team was trotting up. "Dude, the boss is going to need you to figure out how we’re going to get out of here." Quentin nodded, unhappy about leaving Seraph. It was his fault that she was hurt. If he’d been faster taking down that gollum, it would never have managed to get a piece of her. That didn’t mean The Steve was wrong. Quentin got up and walked over to Mateo.

"You come up with a solution?" Mateo asked, slinging his G36.

"Maybe," Quentin said, holding up his PDA, "The truck is parked in this garage about eight blocks north of us. A small team could get up there and get it."

"That’s a pretty infested area," Mateo commented, "What good’s getting the truck going to do us? We’re not going to be able to drive out of the city."

"No, but it will get us to the docks," Quentin said, highlighting some streets. "Trying to go this way would be suicide on foot, but the truck with some shooters on the roof could make it. I checked the marina. A lot of boats left, but there are a couple of nice yachts and some speedboats. If we can get out into the Black Sea, we should be able to get some help from M&W." Mateo thought about it for a moment.

"Okay. Take Jim, Jess, and Billy. Let Jim drive the truck and have Jess up top with her rifle," Mateo said. "Get in, get the truck, and get back. Don’t waste time fighting unless you don’t have a choice." Mateo motioned for the Jess and the cowboy to join them. The large spirit wolf trotted happily behind Jess. Mateo filled them in on the plan and sent the team off.

Jim took the lead. The cowboy was missing his normal rifle and revolvers, but he was handling the AK proficiently. Quentin came behind him with his Colt 10mm in one hand and a four foot length of rebar in the other. Quentin understood Jim missing his normal weapons. Quentin really wanted his normal warhammer. If they came across a hardware store, Quentin was going to get a sledge. Jess and Billy brought up the rear. Jess had her rifle slung and was holding her pistol in a low ready. The quartet slinked through the streets.

Mateo and the rest of the team was busy making as much noise as they could to draw as many of the undead to their position as possible. Even two blocks over, Quentin could hear the gunfire and explosions. Quentin didn’t know how Mateo’s group was blowing stuff up and he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It was doing the trick. The small alleys were deserted as they made their way north to the truck. They’d gone about halfway to the garage when the alley they were using suddenly opened into a small courtyard that had been converted to a parking lot. In the center of the courtyard were four Truth sorcerers chanting around what looked like a small version of the stone table the Truth used back in Wyoming a year or so ago. Billy growled as he stepped into view.

"Well, as I live and breathe, how did you manage to find me Nate?" asked one of the sorcerers. The sorcerer turned around and pulled off his elaborate gold and feather Aztec headdress. Quentin stared into the scarred visage of Alan, the Truth’s lead sorcerer.

"Just lucky I guess," Jim answered congenially. The tall cowboy slung his assault rifle and cracked his knuckles. "There’s a couple things you need to know though Alan."

"Oh, what?" asked the sorcerer, clearly intrigued. The other three sorcerers were taking up positions behind their leader.

"First, I just go by Jim these days. I put Nate behind me," Jim said.

"Sad, but understandable. I take it things didn’t work out with her," Alan asked, looking sincerely compassionate to his one-time friend and now enemy. "What’s the second thing, Jim?"

"I aim to end you here and now." The courtyard crackled with electricity as the battle began.

Zombie Strike Part 10 Chapter 104