Zombie Fallout 19: Unearthed

By Mark Tufo

Nigeria. The densely packed cities are abandoned and in ruins. Isolated villages survive behind locked doors under constant threat of a war on two fronts; a war the living cannot win.

Hidden miles into the desert is a secret weapon that, if unleashed, will bring peace—but at the risk of total annihilation. Undermanned and with scant resources, Michael Talbot's squad of misfits is ordered to retrieve classified data of the utmost imperative.

In a concealed laboratory, buried deep underground, the squad discovers a monstrous super-race that will either be humanity's greatest weapon or deliver a blood soaked end to their existence.

The mission becomes perilous and terrifying; all may not survive.

Above ground, zombies have made startling progress, and the team faces a powerful necromancer who controls an army of the dead. There is a magic here, though, that Michael never dared hope for.

Meanwhile, aboard the floating city, the USS Jimmy Carter, a malcontented faction is hatching plans of violence and insurrection. Even within Talbot's own squad there are mutinous whispers. How many lines will be crossed? What is the price of loyalty and honor? Is it the cost of survival?

Join Michael Talbot, BT, and their daredevil team on a gripping adventure to restore the world to the living!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mark Tufo
• Release date: Nov 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005423087

Mark Tufo

Mark Tufo was born in Boston Massachusetts. He attended UMASS Amherst where he obtained a BA and later joined the US Marine Corp. He was stationed in Parris Island SC, Twenty Nine Palms CA and Kaneohe Bay Hawaii. After his tour he went into the Human Resources field with a worldwide financial institution and has gone back to college at CTU to complete his masters. He lives in Colorado with his wife, three kids and two English bulldogs. Visit him at marktufo.com for news on his next two installments of the Indian Hill trilogy and his latest book Zombie Fallout

Book preview

PROLOGUE

Fuck me, that took a lot longer than I thought it would. Somehow Wesley had got into my stash of journals and fingerpainted across the majority of them. I thought about just writing over the paint but in some places there was a distinctive brown color and as far as I know, he doesn’t have any brown paint. If you want to connect the dots, go for it. I decided I’d look elsewhere for writing material. You wouldn’t think I’d need a reminder about what was going on, but it’s been three days since I wrote anything down, and I drink!!! A LOT!!!!!! I figure a bunch of exclamation marks makes it look like I’m exaggerating and having some fun with that fact. So, okay, we’ll go with that. Right. So, we’re heading to Africa for a mission that is looking pretty crappy, and my star player, One-bullet, One-kill Stenzel, is looking to get traded to a better team. I’d just come from a meeting with Eastman and was heading to the cafeteria to see BT. Now that we’re all caught up, back at it.

1

MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 1

Do not ruin this meal for me! BT bellowed from across the chow hall as he saw me approaching. I know that fucking look, Talbot!

Lots of confused stares from those seated around and more than a few guffaws that turned suspiciously to coughing when I scanned for the originators. Didn’t usually have a captain getting yelled at by one of the enlisted, even if I was dressed like I owned and operated a Tiki Bar at some third-rate resort.

What are you talking about? I asked when I was closer, trying to make myself less of a spectacle.

That look! That ‘I have something shitty to tell you, but secretly I’m excited about it,’ look. He was shoveling in the beef and gravy offering as fast as he could, hoping that what I was going to tell him wouldn’t turn his stomach.

I sat down across from him.

Spilf it, he mumbled through half-chewed meat product.

I’m waiting until you’re done.

That bad?

It ain’t great.

He wrapped one arm around his tray and lowered his head closer to the food like he was worried I was going to take it. As if. I’d seen a documentary on how aggressive grizzly bears are upon awakening from hibernation and having their breakfast. I chose to keep both my arms attached, because BT was worse.

When? He was still huddled over the tray.

Twelve days or so.

He left it there for a few bites, digesting that piece of information along with lunch. Where?

Africa, Nigeria specifically.

In July?

That’s exactly what I said. Most of the trek will be traveled by boat.

They got the bio-fuel working?

Why is it that I don’t know what happens on this ship?

They have announcements every morning about important news and events going on. If you could drag your drunk ass out of bed early enough, you’d know everything I know.

Is there like a newspaper or something? I could read it in the shitter.

Yeah, the whole back of the ship is devoted to a printing press and enormous rolls of paper.

Seriously?

This is my captain, people! He looked around as he pointed at me with his fork.

Most were now actively avoiding our conversation.

They do a closed-circuit newscast. See that giant television over there?

"I didn’t realize it was capable of playing anything other than Robin Hood, that Kevin Costner one."

They do seem to play that one a lot. But no, every morning they have a newscast. It’s semi-professional looking, but you can tell that the male host has crippling stage fright. He sits rigid in his seat, and the only time he looks up from his notes into the camera appears to be by mistake, like he accidentally made eye contact with a psychopath at a bar. And the flopping sweat doesn’t help. He’s constantly dragging his sleeve across his head. Best part of the show, my opinion.

You made a distinction...so how’s the female co-anchor?

It’s Major Dylan, she’s a natural. Looks like she could have been working in a major market. My guess is they’re going to can Lieutenant Ochre, and he’ll be thrilled about it.

Ochre? What kind of name is that?

BT shrugged. Okay, so the rest of the details.

Boating twenty-plus miles, humping out eleven miles total, retrieving hard drives.

The catch?

Intel says it’s clear.

So we can expect an unknown number of hostiles?

Fairly guaranteed.

Importance of the target?

Remains to be seen, but some high-tech stuff that could help in the vaccine is my guess.

Your take?

Why would you want my cynical spin? I asked.

Humor me.

I don’t find anything funny about it, this I told him in all seriousness. More dangerous shit, our lives on the line, a questionable outcome, and benefits that may or may not be realized.

When do you think karma is going to agree we’ve finally paid our dues?

I wish I knew. I’m filling in the rest of the squad at seventeen hundred in their quarters.

I’m going to get some more food now, and you’re going to leave me in peace.

What are you, a hobbit?

What?

Second breakfast?

Go now, Mike. He stood. With him towering over me, I figured this might be the best time to leave.

Just let everyone know about tonight.

He nodded.

2

MIKE JOURNAL ENTRY 2

I laid out what I knew to the squad. I had a difficult time gauging morale, considering most of them were a few sheets to the wind, including myself. I had a knot in my stomach due to Stenzel’s conspicuous absence. Another development I wasn’t overly keen on was the budding romance among my soldiers. Rose and Kirby along with Walde and Reed spent more time ogling each other and foot flirting than paying attention to me. This didn’t bother me so much at the time; with the way of the world, finding love where you could was a good thing. My concern was for when we were out in the field. The feelings they had for each other could jeopardize others, not to mention themselves. If their significant other was in trouble, would they abandon their post to help? I know I would if it was Tracy, not sure why any of them would be different.

As I was wrapping up and letting everyone get back to what they were doing, Stenzel walked in, she had a look of surprise like maybe she was hoping I would have already finished and departed.

Sir. That was it as she headed for her bunk.

I nodded and left it at that. As much as it was going to be difficult to watch her go, she deserved the life she wanted, and I wasn’t going to guilt her into staying with us.

I got rip-roaring drunk the next day, hoping, I suppose, to scrub my mind clean for what was to come. Then the next two days were followed by abstinence and a bout of the shakes that could be attributed to nerves, but was more likely the effects of alcohol withdrawal. We had a family dinner the night before, Justin invited Dallas and Travis brought over his quote / unquote new friend, Emma. She was pretty, a redhead. I thought about pulling him aside and asking him if he were sure about dating one of that particular hair color but wasn’t sure if he would see it for the joke it was. It was a great dinner of spaghetti, garlic bread and meatballs that I was hoping were made from beef, but sometimes it’s better not knowing. They tasted good, that was all that mattered.

A lot of laughs, gentle ribbing and love, just what the doctor ordered. Although some Percocet would have been nice too, and a drink or seven. No matter what BT said, I did suffer from pre-mission jitters. I felt like my ability to lead was diminishing as rapidly, as my odds of coming out of these missions alive and intact.

The rest of the vacation passed quickly, never seemed like enough time to spend with those I loved. Before I knew it, departure day had come. I crawled out of bed at four a.m., doing my best not to disturb Tracy. Just because I had to be up at that unholy hour didn’t mean she needed to be.

How much time do you have? Her hand had reached out and grabbed my leg.

Half hour. You want some coffee?

I was thinking something a little stronger. I was not expecting the hand to the crotch. Perfect aim, considering the room was pitch black.

I replied with, I um. Suave, I know, but I was in the middle of swallowing my tongue. No was not an answer I was going to be able to offer, especially not after a few quick tugs.

I didn’t think you were going to show, BT said as I came running down the hallway.

Sorry, I got pulled into something unexpected.

Uh-huh. Can’t imagine what that could have been. Your buttons are fucked up. He turned and started shouting orders to the squad.

I fixed my buttons then did a quick count, not surprised that the resultant number was ten team members. Let’s mount up.

BT tapped my shoulder and pointed down the hallway I’d just come from. Stenzel was heading our way.

You sure about this? I asked her.

I don’t know, but the thought of all of you going out there without me didn’t sit right.

Harley. I squared off with her and grabbed her shoulders. You’re all in or you’re not. I won’t think any less of you, especially not for trying to better yourself with a good job.

I’m in sir, I’m in. She held my gaze.

Okay, okay, great to have you here. I turned to tell everyone to head out.

Hey, what about me? Can I get a better job? Kirby asked.

I’ll let you know when a crayon eating position opens up, Stenzel barbed.

They have those? he asked Rose.

Oh sweetie, for you I’m sure they’d make a job, she told him.

Can we be done with this chicanery? Gary asked.

Chicanery? I asked.

I found a word of the day calendar. I need to work as many of them into normal conversation as I can.

Chicanery means to use trickery for financial or political gain, Tommy told him.

Doesn’t fit then? Gary asked with pursed lips.

Tommy shook his head.

Debauchery? Gary was reading off a small notebook he’d pulled from his pocket.

Closer, but no, Tommy told him.

The boat ride, although short, was excruciatingly loud. The monotonous drone of the engine routed right past our ear protection; the deep bass rumble conducted straight through the bones of my skull and drilled specifically into my brain. I was tempted to tell them we’d walk back when we exited. It wasn’t until we were a quarter mile down river that the decibel level became acceptable.

Fuck me. BT had pulled his head gear off and was rubbing his ears, he wasn’t the only one.

With all my misery focused on the noise, I’d not considered just how hot it was, and even then, not immediately. It was when I looked at everyone else, at the copious amounts of sweat pouring off them, that it dawned on me.

All right, I want everyone to kill a canteen of water right now. Tommy was muling a five-gallon jerry can; I wanted everyone to hydrate then refill, thus lightening his load, though it was most likely negligible weight for him.

Grimm downed his the fastest and ended up puking it all back up. He looked pale; not sure if I’d missed it when we’d embarked, or if the water and heat had got to him.

You sick?

He might have the flu, Kirby said.

Booze flu? BT asked.

Don’t think so. He’s been sick for the last two days, Kirby finished.

Are you kidding me? Grimm, what the fuck, you shouldn’t be out here, I told him.

I’m okay. He was still bent over, long strings hanging from his mouth. When he stood he looked like he’d just come out of the tear gas chamber. His eyes and nose were red, plus he was leaking snot like a drainage pipe at a chemical plant that wasn’t all too worried about EPA standards. How did I miss that?

Rocket One, this is Aldrin. I’ve got an astronaut that needs an evac.

Aldrin, this is Rocket One! She had to shout to be heard. How severe, sir? We’ve got aliens on both shores. They’re following us; we come back we’ll be bringing them right to you.

Shit. Grimm, we’ve got to double-time for eleven miles. Without hesitation, I need to know if that’s something you can do. No male ego, no Marine Corps bravado shit, just the truth. On the best of days, Grimm was our weakest cardio link, somehow even worse than my brother. I didn’t like how this was starting.

I’m good. It sounded more like a gag than a response.

Roger that, I told him and our ride. Who else knew? Got a lot of averted gazes. Okay, let’s go. Grimm, you’re in the lead. Kirby, you’re his crutch.

The first mile was typical Grimm, on the slower side, but steady. As we hit mile two I needed to make a decision.

Hold up, I told the squad. I had to confront BT, as he looked like he wanted to chew through nails. Maybe it was the crippling heat, but he was as angry as I’d ever seen him.

We shut off our comms and moved to the side, away from the squad.

Stupid fucking kid. Mike, he’s jeopardizing everyone here. He should have known better. We were the ones talking, but he was looking over and past me to the person who had irked the living shit out of him.

I completely agreed with him, I did. But we were in the field now, and as the leader of the squad, I had to take the disfunction I had and make it function. We’ve all fucked up, BT, especially at that age. He wanted to be here with his fellow soldiers. It was his loyalty that placed him here, well, that and some stupidity, but he did it out of his desire to help. He’s here now, and we’re stuck with him. What do you think we can do about it?

Funny how when you shift the responsibility of an individual onto another, the stance they take can change.

Stupid motherfucker. Slower than a parked car. He pointed at Grimm then he spoke to me, having calmed considerably. I suppose we find him a secure location, leave him there with a guard and pick him up on the way back.

Tommy. I waved for him to come over. Can you tell us where we’re at?

Kirby was helping Grimm sit, Rose was getting him some water. The jog and the heat had taken everything out of him, if the way he needed assistance was any indication.

We’re here, just outside of this commercial area. Might be a good place for him to hole up. I could take him there, stay with him and wait until you come back. It’s the obvious choice, he answered. I kept looking at him, wondering if he was reading my mind.

Another two down from an already light squad, the thought spoken aloud. Tommy was a difficult asset to leave behind, but in a jam, he would be Grimm’s best hope of survival. Help me put the water jug on. It wasn’t so much a can, as it was a bladder. It shrunk as the liquid was dispensed, thus helping with the overall size, and keeping the sound of sloshing water at a minimum.

Want me to carry it? BT offered.

No, there’s plenty of other stuff, I told him.

Tommy took off his camo top. He looked like a survivalist’s wet dream; his entire chest and back were covered in filled magazines, two deep.

Jeesus, Kirby whistled. He’s like an action hero, Machinegun Man.

The water had been somewhere around forty-two pounds, and the magazines at a pound each had put just his extras at somewhere around eighty pounds, hardly a blip by Tommy’s standards, but now that load had to be passed through the squad. We were traveling somewhat light, but it wasn’t like we were strolling the countryside in shorts and t-shirts. We were already carrying somewhere near sixty pounds each before piling extra on.

Let’s go, everyone grab some more ammo. I was adjusting the water straps on my shoulders. I could tell it was going to scrape my skin raw way before we got to our destination. I was going to make my squad drink a lot. and often. Kirby, Reed, give your canteens to Tommy. Tommy and Grimm weren’t going to have the luxury of being able to refill.

Umm, Grimm is passed out. Gary was looking down at the man.

Once we had distributed everything, I bid Tommy good luck, put Kirby in the lead, and we headed out. BT was still pissed and promised Kirby that if he slowed down, he was going to run him over. Kirby kept looking over his shoulder to make sure that didn’t happen.

Over the comms came: There’s a store called Market Square, looks like a small Costco. I’ve scoped it out, looks empty, that’s where we’ll be waiting.

Okay. Thanks, Tommy. I was gritting my teeth with every step; the friggen bladder straps were beginning to feel like rough grit sandpaper against my skin, soon it would be like razor blades.

We were maybe halfway there when BT tapped my shoulder to call a halt. I could barely make out his features due to them being submerged under a half-inch of perspiration. It was draining from his head so quickly it looked like a prop on a comedy show.

Alright, let’s take a breather everyone. The words were no sooner out of my mouth when we came to a sluggish stop. We were in the heart of the city now, a blend of modern buildings interspersed with parts that didn’t look much better than a shanty town, though those appeared to be much older and slowly becoming extinct as the place had begun to prosper. Of course, all that was now a dream that would never be realized. Kirby had been doing his best to keep us in the shadows, but at a temperature of a hundred and fourteen, that’s like handing a person dying of thirst a cracker. Gee, thanks.

It was a waste of time I wasn’t sure we could afford, but I took the bladder off, sighing with relief as I did so.

Full canteen, everyone. Take your time, hold it down. It would have been great if I could have heeded my own advice. That relatively cool liquid hit my stomach, and it was like a Mentos being dropped into a diet soda. I was able to duck my head into a broken shop window, but because I hid the act didn’t mean it went unnoticed.

Great. Like I can afford a bit more dehydration. I stepped back from the window, wiped my mouth, then gave it another go, this one a bit more reserved.

You should be more careful, Gary said. This coming from the puke king of Boston three years running, back in the early aughts.

Spent twenty solid minutes on that street, fifteen more than I cared for. Jogging was not going to work. The heat was far too oppressive. Yes, everyone here was arguably in the best shape of their lives, but there are still limits. What good would it be making it there if we couldn’t get back?

Dallas, you’re point. We’ll be walking.

Thank god, Kirby muttered as he pushed himself up.

What was also nice was that with the slowed pace, the bladder wasn’t trying to shred my shoulder meat like pulled pork, and bonus, the squad was drinking more with the subdued jaunt. We were about a mile out from our goal when that bonus became a concern. If we didn’t find a water source, we were going to run dry long before we got back. There had been a subtle shift in our training in regard to fluid hydration from the higher-ups. I’d always had rationing of water as the standard operating procedure, but someone somewhere had decided that wasn’t the best practice. Rather, you should drink the water you need when you need it, to keep you functioning at your optimal level. It made sense because once dehydration began its insidious course, you were plagued with mind-numbing headaches, body-wide fatigue and a fogged brain that could not make wise decisions.

At the current pace of consumption, I figured we’d run out somewhere around the halfway point on the return. That was two or three miles without water. If I felt that it was going to be too large of a problem to overcome, we would have to lay low until nightfall when the temperatures were likely to dip down all the way to 105—oh the sweet relief. (I would love to be able to express sarcasm by the shape of my writing. Anyway, I hope it came through clear enough.)

Besides the heat, Grimm’s flu, and leaving Tommy behind while bringing his gear forward, all was going as well as could be expected. The treacherous thought no sooner flitting around my brain plate when Dallas spoke. I don’t understand the power of jinxing oneself, but it’s real.

Movement, apartment building to the left, rooftop. Saw something, cannot identify. I was impressed by her calmness. She’d proven herself worthy in combat and was only getting better.

I put up my fist to halt the rest of the column. Pull back, I told her, not wanting to expose her or any of us to unnecessary risk. She slowly withdrew as she scanned the area.

Stenzel had her rifle braced against a utility pole attempting to spot what Dallas had. Anything or anybody we came across had to be treated as a hostile.

Orders, sir?

I knew what she was asking, wanting to know if she had the green light should our unexpected voyeurs reveal themselves. People were just as dangerous as any monster, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be responsible for killing some poor person, potentially scavenging for their family. That being said, Eastman had expressed how important this mission was, and that it must succeed at all costs. In his eyes, the dispatching of an innocent civilian due to an abundance of caution would be well within parameters. Sure, why not. Wasn’t like he had to sleep with that nightmare.

Kill on sight, I told her.

Mike? BT questioned.

Disregard that last, Stenzel. She gave an audible sigh at my change.

I’d killed more humans since the zombie apocalypse had started than I cared to count. I was convinced then, as I was now, that each of them was necessary and that I fought for Right, while they had firmly placed their feet on the side of Wrong. It needed to be that black and white, and even then it was taking its toll. If we started making questionable kills, I’d never be able to trust my judgment again. Sleep was already a labor, didn’t need to make it an endeavor too.

Waited another minute for any sign of anything. I didn’t like the idea of passing the three-story apartment building; plenty of places for an enemy to shoot down at us, and by the time we found effective cover, we would take losses. No, the best thing we could do was avoid a conflict altogether.

Okay, people, we’re going to pull back to a cross street and continue on to the road next to us.

Stenzel was watching our back as we pulled out. The next series of events happened so fast they were simultaneous. I had turned slightly to let Stenzel know it was okay to follow, I heard a shot ring out and the sting of a bullet as it tore a groove into my back, and at the same time my nerve endings were beginning to process a pain response, another shot, this from Stenzel.

Target down!

Mike! BT bellowed.

I was having a difficult time believing I housed so much blood and that it could spill so fast. The entirety of my lower half was drenched, and, surprisingly, it was cool. Figured it was relative compared to the heat index and the moment I started to enjoy the fatal chill, I realized that it wasn’t shock, it was the remainder of our water. The bladder had taken a lethal hit. I had a scrape that stung like a bitch, but unless I rubbed up against some Ebola, I was likely to be fine.

Stenzel and the rest of the squad were scanning for more threats; was it a lone gunman, or was it like the hidden friends of Lee Harvey? Depending on which conspiracies you believe in, I suppose. We now all had our rifles up scanning for threats.

You okay? Stenzel asked as I came up next to her. She did not take her eyes away from her scope.

Definitely had worse. Where was the shooter?

Third floor, second from the right.

The one with the blinds?

Yes. I’m sorry it took me so long to pick him up. You could have been killed.

Stenzel, if it was anybody but you standing there, I would have been. The blinds were of the slatted variety and made from a dark material or wood; a rifle barrel would have been close to invisible. So, thank you for that, I told her. The next concern on my mind besides the loss of the water, was why had I been targeted. Sure, I knew there were a bunch of people at one time or another wouldn’t have minded if I was fertilizing their lawn, but as far as I knew, none of them hailed from Nigeria. Could be that one email scammer I replied to, telling him that I bet his parents changed the subject when their friends asked about him, but that seemed a stretch.

Sorry, BT offered as we moved away from the location. I shouldn’t have made you rethink your stance.

Listen bud, I realize as a military unit I’m supposed to be in absolute charge, but we both know that’s not a good thing. I appreciate most input from my subordinates, or is it underlings? Peons? Minions, perhaps?

You just got shot, are you seriously joking right now? he asked.

I’m hoping it hides the tremor in my voice. Let’s get the fuck out of here.

Agreed.

As the afternoon wore on, it somehow got hotter. At what point was it going to max out? At two hundred and twelve degrees we would begin to boil on the inside, I didn’t think we were more than ten degrees from that point. We’d moved a mile from the shooter and had not encountered anyone or anything else. A lone person with a weapon was likely a rarity, as was the idea that the exchange of gunfire hadn’t drawn attention from unwanted sources. Something was strange in this strange land.

We were in the midst of a much-needed break. We had finished the last of the water in our canteens and were still a mile-ish from the lab. Odds were the place would have water, and it was something I was banking our lives on. As we headed down Ololongo Road, on our final approach, I thought maybe Eastman had it wrong. This looked like a residential area, and a decent one at that. Certainly not a place that you would drop a bio-engineering lab of any sort.

We’re here, Kirby reported. He was on point and staring at a structure that looked like everything else around us, namely, a two-story dwelling commonly referred to as a house.

Kid is as sharp as a marble, BT muttered as he advanced to check it out. Uh, Talbot, you’re going to want to see this.

What am I looking at? The question was aimed more toward myself. It was larger than an ordinary home, but not by much, and looked like a dentist’s office.

Certainly doesn’t look like something with seven sub-levels, BT offered.

I am so sick of military intelligence. Makes Kirby look like Einstein. I was pissed.

Was that an insult? Kirby asked Rose.

For a such non-descript building, it looks fairly fortified, Walde was looking over her shoulder as she kept an eye out for any threats behind us.

She was right, I was so busy taking in the entirety of the structure I’d failed to take in those details. The front door, instead of an inviting glass variety, was steel. The windows were small and covered by bars. I moved in closer to take a look.

These might be bulletproof, looks like the stuff they have in banks. I’d reached through the bars and tapped it with my fist. Might as well have been knocking on oak.

BT tried the door. Locked. He jiggled the handle, not even the slightest rattle. Should I shoot the lock?

I had my doubts. If they’d taken that precaution with the glass, it was unlikely the door would succumb to the same force.

Looks like I’m up. Rose rubbed her hands together.

Hold up, boom-boom. Not looking for a volcanic eruption in the heart of the city, I told her. Kirby, do a once around, see if there’s an egress.

Seriously, Mike? BT scoffed. An entry, Kirby. He wants to know if there’s another way in.

Why didn’t he just say that then? Kirby asked. He was back less than a minute later, shaking his head. Weirdest thing, no doors or windows on either side or the back, just blank wall.

Curiouser and curiouser. Okay everyone to the side; I don’t want anyone hit by a ricochet. Top, see what you can do with that lock.

BT backed up a step, got a good angle, and fired a round directly onto the lock cylinder. There was a high-pitched whine as the bullet traveled to parts unknown and a minor scorch mark on the lock that easily rubbed away.

What about now? Rose asked, looking at me expectantly.

I didn’t like having to shoot due to the noise; there was no chance that an earthquake-inducing explosion wasn’t going to bring lookie-loos.

What about looking for a crowbar, try to pry it open? I asked.

There’s not a seam we could fit a bar in. BT was running his fingers around the door edge.

Rose was ushering BT out of her workspace.

You need that much? I asked, eyeing the brick of explosive.

She gave me a look that made Kirby flinch; he appeared on the edge of offering an apology.

Sorry. I held up my hands as a way of appeasement.

She had us back up to the other side of the street and behind a house; I took that as a bad sign that anything would still be standing once this was done.

Fire in the hole. She depressed the button on her triggering device. Nothing at first, to the point I thought potential misfire. It was difficult to discern what happened next, the air shredding noise of the explosion or the deep rolling movement of the earth beneath our feet. When those sound waves traveled through my body, I got that same queasy belly roll you sometimes get when you are traveling too fast in your car and hit a bump, catching some air. It’s not a completely unwelcome sensation, but not something I would care for continually. No debris rained down upon our heads; I also took that as a bad sign. Either she had completely vaporized our objective, or had done nothing