Monster Nation(19)

On the snowy roof of the Skye house Dick sipped at his coffee and tried the police again on his cell phone. When that didn't work he tried his office, and finally his sister inMontana . No signal, not even a bar. It had been that way since the first time he'd tried but he couldn't seem to just put the phone away.

'Remember,' Bleu said. 'You have to go for the head. The brain, sure. Otherwise they don't so much as feel it.'

They had some moonlight, which was good, and plenty of guns, also good, and they were up on the roof and had pulled the ladder up behind them which was the best idea ever as far as Dick was concerned. It was also freezing cold and they couldn't go down until all of the climbers were dispatched. Bleu had a leg of mutton on a string that she dangled over the edge of the roof. Fishing for dead people.

The thought made Dick laugh and he wiped at his face as he chuckled, rubbing away the paste of dried saliva there. His mouth had dried out like a piece of jerky. 'Gnugh,' he moaned as he scratched at his leathery tongue. She stared at him and he realized he was being inappropriate. 'Sorry,' he mumbled.

He wasn't doing so well with the fear.

'Don't be sorry. Be ready.' It sounded like something she might have told her son. Her dead son. Her dead survivalist son'well, he hadn't survived the walking dead, had he? Dick wanted to giggle again.

'When I say 'be ready', that means you should check your weapon there, sport.' Bleu clomped over to the other side of the roof. Her hobnail boots had cracked some of the shingles and Dick was afraid to follow her over there. Instead he worked the action of the Weatherby rifle and checked that there was a round in there. Of course there was. He'd put it in himself under her supervision. He was the shooter because his eyes were better but she knew all about guns and she didn't really need him. He could just leave. His car was waiting for him just over the ridge. He just had to get past two or maybe three ghouls.

'There! Come on already, get your shot lined up!' Bleu was pointing out into the sighing pines, one boot stamping repeatedly on the shingles. Dick tried to bring the rifle up to his face and nearly dropped it in the process.

Okay, okay, he told himself, calm down. Just calm the f*ck down.

'Do you see him? She's leaning on that tree. It's a perfect shot.'

Dick nodded'he did see something kind of human-shaped'and brought the scope to his eye. Let his night vision adjust until the image cleared. Yes. A human figure, dark against the snow. The climber in question had been a woman once, judging by the shape of her hips. Now she looked like a rotting pumpkin perched on top of a sportswear mannequin. The scientist in Dick rose to the top, trying to understand what he saw and it made sense, sure. Being frozen all winter hadn't preserved the climbers as much as liquefied them: when ice crystals formed in their muscle cells the sharp apices of the crystals had shredded the cell membranes, turning the climbers flaccid and gooey. He remembered the one he'd fought with. Putrefaction hadn't weakened them at all.

Immaterial. The only thing that mattered was the shot. He tried to remember his time in the Boy Scouts. He had passed the requirements for the marksmanship merit badge. Seat the rifle, line up the shot, adjust for windage'

'Take the shot al-f*cking-ready!' Bleu howled.

Dick fired spasmodically.

The magnum round hit the tree a few inches above the climber's head. The wood exploded, showering the dead woman with pulpy fragments and splinters of bark. Bleu didn't credit the climbers with too much mental wattage but it looked like they understood what it meant when the tree you were leaning on exploded. Without looking back the climber slumped off into the darkness.

It had taken them three hours to pick one shot and he missed. Dick wiped at his mouth again. He didn't feel so good.

New Flux Generating Step Identified in the Metabolic Pathways of Human Prion Protein (PrPsc) [New EnglandJournal of Medicine, 11/6/04]

Nilla watched the three men get cut down by the SWAT team through the Venetian blinds in the cafeteria. Her blood wasn't circulating in her veins anymore but it went cold anyway. They weren't asking questions down there. They weren't trying to help people. The police were just slaughtering anyone who came out.

Maybe not just anyone. Maybe live people got a pass. Nilla was undead and she knew she would be on the short list for the firing squad. She had to get out'she had to escape the hospital somehow.

She tried to run but her legs cramped up instantly when she started to sprint. In pain she hobbled past a room full of nurses and orderlies bent over a bed. She didn't look too closely'she could hear what they were doing.