The ZPOCALYPTO Book Bundle (#2 of 4): ZPOCALYPTO Series Boxsets and Bundles from THE WORLD OF GAMELAND, #2

By Saul Tanpepper

THIS BOOK BUNDLE FROM THE THRILLING SURVIVAL SERIES ZPOCALYPTO INCLUDES

 

Episode 03: Deadman's Gambit

Episode 04: Sunder the Hollowmen

Episode 05: Prometheus Mode

Episode 06: Every Dead Player

 

Bonus content: Velveteen (a companion novelette from THE WORLD OF GAMELAND)

Bonus content: Golgotha (a second prequel to THE WORLD OF GAMELAND)

 

LOOK FOR THE REST OF THE BOOK BUNDLES IN THIS SERIES. GET THE BUNDLE, SAVE A BUNDLE.

 

Saul Tanpepper is the author of the post-apocalyptic survival series BUNKER 12 and the companion pre-apocalyptic series THE FLENSE. Check out his latest series, SCORCHED EARTH, a climate collapse disaster survival thriller series set in the Pacific Northwest of North America.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brinestone Press
• Release date: Nov 7, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223790044

Saul Tanpepper

Subscribe for new releases & exclusive deals/giveaways: tinyletter.com/SWTanpepper Saul Tanpepper is the specfic pen name of author Ken J. Howe, a PhD molecular biologist and former Army medic and trauma specialist.  Titles include: The post-apocalyptic series GAMELAND (recommended reading order): - Golgotha (prequel, optional) - Episodes 1-4 - Velveteen (standalone novella, optional) - Episodes 5-8 - Infected: Hacked Files From the Gameland Archive (insights for the avid GAMELAND fan) - Jessie's Game #1: Signs of Life - A Dark and Sure Descent - Jessie's Game #2: Dead Reckoning Post-apocalyptic series BUNKER 12 - Contain - Books 2-4 (coming soon) International medical thriller serial THE FLENSE (a BUNKER 12 companion series) - CHINA: Books 1-3 - ICELAND: Book 1-3 - AFRICA: Books 1-3 - TBA Short story collections: Shorting the Undead & Other Horrors Insomnia: Paranormal Tales, Science Fiction, and Horror Visit him at tanpepperwrites.com

Book preview

⁍ CONTENTS ⁌

DEADMAN’S GAMBIT

Episode 3 the ZPOCALYPTO series

SUNDER THE HOLLOWMEN

Episode 4 of the ZPOCALYPTO series

GOLGOTHA

A prequel to the ZPOCALYPTO series

PROMETHEUS MODE

Episode 5 of the ZPOCALYPTO series

VELVETEEN

A companion novelette to the ZPOCALYPTO series

EVERY DEAD PLAYER

Episode 6 of the ZPOCALYPTO series

For more about the series,

and to get your own Tanpepper starter library,

as well as receive news about exclusive offers and giveaways,

visit:

Tanpepperwrites.com

Copyright

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Brinestone Press

(rv.231107)

⁍ CONTENTS ⁌

EPISODE 03

DEADMAN’S GAMBIT

« Part One »

CHAPTERS

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

« Part Two »

CHAPTERS

11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

« Part Three »

CHAPTERS

22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37

Episode 03

DEADMAN’S GAMBIT

PART ONE

Promises Made

Chapter 1

I wait for the tram to pick up speed, but it just clicks quietly along at a constant languid pace. We’re moving no faster than a slow jog. At this rate, it’ll take us more than an hour to get to the mainland.

Why aren’t we accelerating, Reg?

Maybe it’s low on power? he guesses.

His uncertainty doesn’t really help stifle my mounting anxiety. Every extra minute we delay getting back gives Novak and that man another minute to free themselves from their bindings and call for reinforcements. If I’d known the tram was going to be this slow, I wouldn’t have left them back there. I would have—

killed them

—brought them back with us.

The thought had crossed my mind. But one murder is enough for today. It’s enough for a lifetime.

The darkness of the tunnel swallows us up. Only the meager glow of the LCD safety light mounted in the ceiling of the car provides illumination. Reggie’s a pale ghost as he tries to figure out the dials and switches. He flicks something, and a grainy black and white image appears on a monitor in the console. It shows the section of track directly in front of the tram.

Let me know immediately if you notice anything strange, I tell him. Anything.

Where are you going?

Back with the others.

I get it. You and Kel gots things to discuss.

I chuff. No one’s going to be planning any weddings anytime soon. Just keep an eye out. And try to figure out how to get us moving faster.

Will do.

Also, give me a heads up before we arrive on the mainland side.

Worried about what might be waiting for us?

I just want to make sure we’re prepared.

That’s why you’re the boss.

I’m not the boss.

Whatever you say... boss, he says, smirking.

I don’t want to be in charge, but someone has to be. The moment we arrive on the other end, I’m ditching the responsibility. Let someone else take over for a while.

The compartment door slams shut behind me, and everyone looks up.

Why are we going so slow? Ashley asks.

Outside the window, a bare fluorescent bulb on the wall of the tunnel drifts past.

I don’t know. Reggie’s working on it.

I know I should be more relieved that we’ve even made it this far — all of us, together, alive, and for the most part, intact — but I just can’t shake this feeling it’s all an illusion. My escape from my bed, from Nurse Mabel, all just quirks of fate. I was luckier than I really had any right to be, especially in my physical condition. I shouldn’t have been able overpower Mabel so easily. But to do so again after she resurrected... Well, by rights, I should be sharing that room — and death — with her.

Then finding all the others, including Kelly... All almost too easy.

Almost as if...

I shake my head. I don’t know if it’s the exhaustion or the adrenaline hangover, but I’m having a hard time concentrating. My brain feels two sizes too big crammed inside a box two sizes too small. I used to get these tension headaches, and this feels like that. But this time the pressure is starting to build at the base of my skull.

Kelly walks over and we take a seat a distance from the others. So, he says, about what happened back there.

I groan. I want to tell him that I really don’t want to talk about it right now. He must sense my resistance, because he doesn’t lead with the marriage proposal.

I was going crazy with worry over for you, he says. "These past few days when I couldn’t figure out how to rescue you. I had no idea what they were doing to you guys, and I just kept thinking..."

We’re safe now, Kel. That’s all that matters.

No thanks to me.

What’s that supposed to mean?

I wanted to keep everyone safe. That’s why I came back for Jake on my own. All it ended up doing was making things worse.

Well, your brother is important to you.

Kyle? I don’t understand. What’s he got to do with this?

Look, Kel, I know you needed money for his hospital bills. What I don’t understand is why you’d drag all the rest of us into it.

He exhales heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. How’d you find out about that?

Does it matter?

It’s not what you think.

What I think is, how am I supposed to trust you?

Jessie...

Another fluorescent lamp outside on the tunnel drifts past. We still haven’t accelerated.

Is that all Arc wanted? I ask. Or did they expect more. Did they ask you to Volunteer?

What? No! He pulls away from me, appalled. You know I would never do that!

Do I?

Yes, you do!

Then what did they want?

Micah’s hacks, he finally confesses.

How did they know about them?

I don’t know. It’s Arc. They know everything. They approached me about six months ago, gave me a choice. Either I start handing over everything Micah created or—

Just Micah? Or any of us?

Anything Micah touched. They didn’t care about the rest of the group, just him.

Why?

He shrugs. I don’t know. They said I had to hand over anything Micah created on his own or with anyone else, or they’d make sure we all got years added to our LSC. At first it was just the game hacks. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. As long as I sent them his work, they’d put money into an account for Kyle’s treatment. But everything changed the moment they found out about Micah’s tracking script. They changed the rules.

Changed them how?

They stopped sending the money. They demanded more.

When did this happen?

Two days before we left, a week ago Thursday.

So, they knew what we were planning? Or did you tell them?

No, I didn’t tell them. I didn’t have to.

Would you have? I ask. Told them?

He hesitates, then seems to deflate. Yes. But only if I believed it would stop us from even trying. It was a stupid idea from the start. I never wanted anything to do with it.

Then why didn’t you stop us? It’s because of you that—

They wanted us to go through with it. They wanted... proof, I guess, that we could.

Just another white hat hack for them to fix, I grunt. Is that it? And they don’t even have to pay a cent for our hard work.

Something like that.

So, why not just hire Micah directly to writes scripts and find holes in their codex?

Hire Micah? Not with his family’s ties to the SSC.

They’re not Separatists. They just happened to be living in Texas when it happened. The fact that they defected should mean something.

Not to Arc. I doubt they see things that way.

And the second time? I ask. Why’d you go back for Jake? Did they tell you to do that, too?

No. I told you, it was to protect you— all of you guys, but mostly you. And because I felt guilty about my part in making it happen. I realized I should’ve drawn the line, but—

No, you couldn’t. You made the right choice.

Did I?

"Well, the only choice you could make. But you should’ve told us. You should’ve told me. And you should’ve let us help you, instead of making us all worry."

I honestly believed it would be a simple rescue. I’d planned to get back here, grab him, and be home by early afternoon. The fewer people involved, the better.

Did you notify them about my lost Link?

No, of course not! He sighs. But it doesn’t matter. It was still my fault. If only Jake hadn’t— He stops. Are you okay? You look pale.

I shake my head, but it only makes my headache worse. It’s nothing.

If he’d only been there when I arrived, it would’ve been so much simpler, he goes on. But of course he wasn’t, because it’s never easy with him, is it? I found his wetsuit where he’d ditched it. That’s how I knew he’d made it all the way back. I didn’t know if he was alive or dead, so I waited a little while for him to return. Busied myself by gathering up the bags and supplies we’d left behind. After that, I had to hole up, because the IUs were starting to swarm again. They were still there by evening, and by then it was too late to go back through the tunnel, with or without Jake. I spent the night at the Holiday Inn.

Really?

He gives me a wry grin. Terrible service. Barely got any sleep.

Jake said you two didn’t join up until late the next day.

Yeah, I was about ready to give up when he showed up. Let me tell you, I was pretty angry by then. So when he started arguing, making excuses about the tunnels being blocked, I’d pretty much had it with him. I would’ve left him there, but then those two guys showed up.

Arc’s surveyors?

Yeah, I didn’t believe it for a second. But I did think Arc had sent them to check up on me.

You?

Yeah. I was valuable to them. But it didn’t take long for me to realize they weren’t who I thought they were. I mean, they were clearly sent to get us, but I don’t think they knew exactly who I was.

I just don’t understand how that all fits with them replacing our implants and preparing us to become Volunteers.

I don’t know, either. Arc’s a huge corporation. Oftentimes the left hand won’t know what the right hand’s doing.

You think that’s what happened?

I don’t know, but I’m done with them. I’m out.

What about Kyle’s treatments?

We’ll just have to figure something else out.

He leans into me. His face is suddenly deeply etched with fatigue that I’m afraid it’ll remain like that forever. I’m still angry at him for betraying us, even though he really didn’t have a choice, and for trying to be the hero. I want to forgive him, but I’m not sure the others will be so willing. How will they respond when we tell them?

That’s going to be an uncomfortable conversation, I murmur.

Sorry?

Nothing.

I cradle his head in my hands and pull him to me. He leans in, and we kiss, and oh God, I want so badly for this all to be a dream, a nightmare that dissolves seamlessly into a harmless dream that I can just wake up out of and know that everything’s alright. I want this whole past week to be nothing but some stupid play acted out in my head. I just want things to be back to the way they once were.

So? he whispers.

God, I want so badly to say yes. I want to spend the rest of my life with him. And yet...

You mean more to me than anyone else in this whole world, Jess.

I know that’s not true, but that’s okay. It goes without saying that Kyle occupies a special place in Kelly’s heart way above me. I try to smile, but it ends up being more of a grimace. The pressure inside my head has bloomed in the last couple of minutes. I’m exhausted, and yet I feel like every nerve in my body is on fire.

We’ll talk about it when we get home, I say.

He leans his head back against the window and closes his eyes, apparently satisfied for the moment. In less than a minute he’s asleep.

I wish I could sleep, but I’m far too anxious. Every click of the track takes us farther from Long Island and brings us closer to home. And to whatever awaits us. My stomach feels like a hot greasy fire pit. I need to stand up. I need fresh air. I stagger down the aisle.

The funny thing about this whole situation, Stephen says, as I near him, is that you think you’ve got it all figured out.

What?

You think this is all about you. You’re just a small part of this.

Of what?

Jake raises his head and squints over at us from his seat. He looks as miserable as I feel. No one asked you, he grunts. His voice is shaky. His words slur.

You okay, Jake? I ask, alarmed.

Don’t feel so great.

The tram rocks slightly, messing with my sense of balance. My body responds far too sluggishly. I stagger across the aisle and settle clumsily into the seat beside Stephen. My brain feels like it’s turning to mush inside my skull. I take a deep breath and wait for the nausea to pass, for the roaring sound in my ears to subside. But they both intensify.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Stephen’s face swims before me. He grins like a madman, like someone who doesn’t understand how much trouble he’s in. Once we get back to...

Back to...

Where are we going?

He speaks, and his voice sounds distorted.

Jake coughs and suddenly lurches out of his seat. He drops to his knees and starts puking.

What’s happening?

A sharp cry from elsewhere in the car draws my attention. I turn, and it’s like I’ve just stepped off the spinning teacups at the amusement park. The walls of the tram are a blur around me. Ashley spins past, once, twice. She’s slumped in her seat. She appears to be asleep, except how can anyone sleep like that? Tanya tries to stand. She grabs her head and screams again. Then she crumples to the floor, where she starts writhing and gagging. I lurch to my feet, and the world spins even more violently— Kelly and Jake and Micah and Ash and Tanya.

kellyjakemicahashtanya

kellyjakemichal—

I don’t remember falling. One moment I’m upright and the world is spinning around me. Then I’m on the floor, staring at the ceiling, and the world it whirring above me.

kellyjakemicahashtanya

I hear laughter. It’s Stephen. I hear him say something about not being able to leave.

And then it all makes sense. From someplace deep inside of me, I know what they’ve done to us. I remember Miss Novak echoing the same sentiment a half hour before. The same words Nurse Mabel had uttered before I killed her.

They did something to our implants so we can’t leave.

Someone really should’ve told you about the failsafe, he tells me. He sounds so far away now, fading in and out, like I’m on the carousel now, and he’s standing in the middle of the midway, and I keep zooming past him. You didn’t think you’d just be able to walk away, did you? he asks.

What did you do?

He acts like he doesn’t hear me.

What did you do, you asshole?

He makes his way over to the medical cart and starts pulling out drawers. He finds a pair of scissors and starts sawing through his bindings.

Why isn’t anyone stopping him?

Because they’re already dead. Or dying.

And I’m next.

I don’t know how I’m able to get to my feet again. Stephen glances over at me and laughs, as if he can’t believe it, either. He tells me not to fight it. I do the only thing that makes sense to me right now: I head forward to the engineer’s compartment. I have to stop the tram. I lose my balance and fall.

Stephen laughs again. You just don’t give up, do you?

I stand. I lurch. I carom from pole to pole, bracing myself on seatbacks, crashing into walls. Them I’m standing at the door to the engineer’s compartment, and I look inside. It’s empty. No one’s at the controls.

Reggie, I moan, as I slip to my knees. Giving up seems so much easier than fighting. I’m tempted to just close my eyes and sleep.

Stop the tram, Jessie. You have to stop it.

Stephen’s free now. He stands up and rubs his wrists. I can’t move. I can only watch him.

We should be just about under the wall by now, he says. You’re feeling the full effect of the EM barrier. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re still conscious. But you don’t have that much time left.

Why? I gasp.

I know my mouth isn’t working. I know I’ve said nothing, and yet he answers anyway:

Can’t have you leaving now, can we? Not when we’re so close. It would be a disaster if you were to get back out into the real world. A real disaster.

I’m helpless to act as he draws a syringe from the medical bag. It’s filled with a shiny green fluid. He cradles it in his hands like it’s precious cargo.

What are you going to do with that?

Don’t you worry your little head off, he says. He reaches down and drags me away from the engineer’s compartment. It’ll all be over soon enough.

Yes, please, I beg. Make this agony go away. I just want it to go away.

But it won’t. It stays like a stubborn stain. It spreads through me, finding fertile ground and growing into something so much larger. And just as I think I’m about to pass out, something inside of me snaps. Pain explodes inside my head. I scream.

Then it’s gone, all of it, blissfully gone. The pain and pressure recede out of my body so quickly and so utterly that it leaves me breathless. In their place is an emptiness so vast that I can do nothing to stop myself from plunging headlong into it.

Chapter 2

Citizens are advised to remain indoors, the recording blared from the government-mandated speaker on our living room wall. The same message for the past three hours, over and over again. This is not a drill. Do not go outside. Do not answer your door unless you are instructed to do so by the military.

Eric pulled me away from the window, snapping at me that I was going to get us killed standing there like that.

I thought the outbreak was far away? I said.

How do you know that?

It’s in Washington. That’s like hundreds of miles away.

I didn’t see anything on Media saying where it was.

He was right about that. There hadn’t been a thing about the outbreak on the official Media Stream. No announcements, no coverage. But I’d learned how to hack into the black streams, where it wasn’t hard to find news that wasn’t filtered or adulterated by Government.

Let me go.

Then stay away from the window.

God, I cried, yanking my arm free. I rubbed where he’d grabbed me. Why do you have to be so paranoid all the time?

Jessie, be quiet!

You be quiet, Mister Scaredy Cat-I’m-afraid-of-a-zombie-wombie.

He shook his head and began to pace, all the while moaning as if he were one of the stupid undead that we were supposed to be so scared of.

Is it because of Dad you’re such a freak?

You shut up about Dad! he screamed.

Eric, Mom whispered. Please. She’s only nine. She’s just a little girl. She’s scared.

I’m not scared, Mom.

Well, you should be! Eric shouted. And for the last time, Jessie, get away from the window!

My name’s Jessica, not Jessie!

Please stop, Mom begged.

How long do we have to stay inside?

As long as the police say we have to, honey.

Not the police, Eric corrected her. The military.

She reached for her glass. There was no more condensation on the outside, just a wet ring on the coffee table; the ice had long since melted away. She lifted it to her lips and grimaced at the sharpness of the alcohol. Sober for three months — the longest stretch I could remember — and all it took was news of another outbreak to drive her back to drinking.

When is Grandpa coming home? I asked. Won’t he be arrested for being outside?

Grandpa is safe. Don’t worry. He’s helping the police. He knows what to do.

Damn well better know, Eric muttered. This is all his fault.

Watch your language, young man.

I’m twenty, Mom. I’m not a kid anymore.

She got up and left the room. I watched her slip away like a ghost through the walls, ignoring Eric as he glowered at me.

You shouldn’t say it’s Grandpa’s fault, I told him.

And you don’t know what you’re talking about.

He’s family.

Yeah, well, so was Dad.

Chapter 3

The memory of the scare eight years ago sweeps from my mind just as completely as the agony that triggered its resurrection.

Actually, sweep properly describe it. It’s like the mental connection that dredged it up was severed. And just like that, I’m back in the real world. Back on the tram.

I blink a few times, wondering what the hell just happened. Have I died? Have I... come back?

Stephen’s still holding the syringe. Did he inject me with it when I was out? He steps over my body and proceeds down the aisle.

Where are you going with that?

He pauses, as if he’d heard me. But then he turns toward Kelly. He lifts the syringe to eye level and taps it. A thin stream of the liquid arcs out and splatters onto the floor. He nods and directs the needle toward Kelly’s exposed neck.

No! I scream.

Stephen jerks around, surprise on his face.

I jump to my feet, amazed that I’m actually able to move. The heavy-headedness is gone. So is the nausea. My body feels light. My thoughts are suddenly clear. Get away from him!

Jess? Kelly says, lifting his head.

Stephen reacts just a split second too slowly. He pulls back, but Kelly knocks the syringe from his hand. It lands on the floor on the other side of the aisle and rolls beneath a seat. Stephen punches Kelly in the face, knocking him back. Then he turns and lunges for the syringe.

Stop him! I shout. The tram rounds a bend and I fall. Don’t let him get that syringe!

Kelly tries to grab Stephen, but he’s already out of reach. He’s down on his knees and reaching under the seat. Kelly grabs his ankle and pulls him out.

The car swerves again. This time I land against Tanya’s legs. She’s convulsing. Spittle froths from her lips, and blood leaks from her ears. She looks like she’s dying.

Jake’s on the floor unconscious. His body rocks in time with the tram’s motion. His cheek lies submerged in a shallow puddle of his own vomit. Ash is out, too. She sags ever deeper in her seat. Her head bounces against the cushion like a ragdoll’s. She’s deathly pale.

I scamper forward, crawling over Jake’s sprawled legs. The train shakes and rattles and creaks. It feels like we’re moving faster now.

Kelly and Stephen are wrestling. Stephen sits up. He raises an arm and brings it down again. I hear the impact and Kelly’s grunt. He plants a hand on Stephen’s face and tries to push him off.

I can’t stop and help Kelly. I have to get to the controls. I need to turn us around. We need to head back to Long Island. If we don’t, we’re all going to die.

I find Reggie lying prone on the floor, his body wedged against the door. His face is frozen in a mask of agony. His arm is extended, as if he’d tried to reach something.

I step over him, but my toe catches on his shirt. I tumble into the car.

Kelly shouts. There’s a loud smack, followed by another grunt. Stop! he bellows. Don’t!

I lurch back to my feet and lean over and shove the control lever up. But it won’t budge. It’s locked into position. I can’t see how to unlock it. I can’t stop the tram!

I spin around, and something about Reggie’s awkward position clicks. I look up and see the emergency brake near the ceiling. It’s a red handle mounted inside a recess, which is outlined with black and yellow tape.

He was trying to stop the tram when he passed out.

I reach up.

Oh, no you don’t! Stephen barks.

He shoves me away. The tram continues onward.

He spins me around and hurls me against the control panel. Pain explodes in my hip. He grabs the collar of the coveralls and bends me back. Then he shoves me back down against the panel. The control lever stabs me in the belly.

Have to stop— I pant.

Nope, Stephen grunts into my ear.

He yanks me upright again, one hand still on my collar, the other in my hair. He presses his body against mine, trapping me against the console. I have no leverage. My hands are trapped under me. He plants an elbow on my back and puts all of his body weight on me. All my hapkido training, and I can’t do a damn thing. I’m helpless.

Kelly!

Your boyfriend can’t help you now, sweetie!

He wrenches my head around so I can see him. Out of the corner of my eye I see the syringe.

Why aren’t you out like the others? he pants. His breath is hot against my cheek. He clutches the needle in his fist. It’s inches from my eyes. From this close, the contents appear white. Maybe I should stick this damn thing into your eardrum. The pain alone would drive you insane.

Fuck... you, I grunt.

He knees me between my legs, and I scream out in pain.

I warned them this could happen. I told them right after I saw your numbers. I told them there was a high risk your neurosynthetic synapses would collapse, yet they refused to believe me. But, hey, that’s okay. It’s not the end of the world. Maybe for you and your stupid friends, but not for me. I’ve can still salvage something out of this mess.

The syringe moves out my view.

I don’t know what comes over me then — panic, maybe, or terror — but all those years of hapkido conditioning finally pay off. I lift my right foot and kick back. There’s almost no space between us, but my heel rakes down Stephen’s shin. He howls, but it’s not enough for him to release me. He forces me back against the console and pulls my hair again. My scalp burns. And then there’s a sharp pain in the side of my neck. It spreads down my back like burning hot oil.

Stop fighting, he grunts.

In final desperation, I manage to free my arms from under me. I twist around and grab one of his. He tries to resist, which is exactly what I knew he’d do. So I push, step, and yank down. He yelps in surprise, stumbles back, and slams against the back wall of the compartment. His head hits hard, and he slumps to his knees.

I reach for my neck, but the syringe is gone. Then, just as the tram makes another lazy roll, I lunge for the brake. My feet tangle in Stephen’s, and I crash to the floor of the compartment.

We both get back up at the same time. He jumps at me; I grab his wrist against and pull while lifting my knee. I catch him just below the ribcage, knocking the breath from his lungs. What did you give me? I scream.

He staggers backward a couple steps, but lands against the wall and manages to stay on his feet.

He’s much stronger and more resilient than I had expected. He lunges again and this time expects my grab. He evades it and shoves me back against the console.

Let me go!

He slams a fist against the back of my head. My forehead ricochets off the panel, blinding me for a moment. I kick back again, not expecting the same move to work twice. I hear something snap and he’s suddenly gone. He crumples to the floor, screaming and clutching his leg. He rolls away, and I spot the syringe beneath him.

It’s empty.

What did you inject into me? I shriek.

He writhes in agony on the floor and doesn’t answer.

I yank the emergency brake out and push up, and I get a faceful of wall for my efforts when the tram screeches to a stop.

Too late, he grunts, still grabbing his leg. By the way he rubs his shin, I know it’s not broken, which is too bad. You’re too late to save the others. They’re already dead.

We’ll see about that, I growl. I spin around, find the control lever and shove. Pain shoots up my arm.

But the lever still doesn’t budge.

Chapter 4

What the hell did you inject into me? I growl. I reach up with my good hand and feel around for the puncture wound. My fingertips come away smeared with blood.

Stephen just stares at me with this smug look on his face.

We’re not going anywhere until you tell me.

Looks like we’re not going anywhere anyway.

Answer her, Kelly hisses. He wrenches Stephen’s arm higher up his back. What was in that syringe?

Syringe? I’m having a hard time remembering.

I’ll break your goddamn arm!

Stephen grunts, but still refuses to tell us.

One way or another, I say, leaning in close and shoving the empty syringe into his face, you’re going to tell me what the fuck was in this. Was it that alpha crap? Is it some kind of virus? Is it the Zulu virus? Is it what they gave to Mabel?

Surprise flickers in his eyes.

You didn’t think I knew about that, did you? How could you do that to her?

What do you know about that? he cautiously asks.

Did you infect me?

Kelly grabs his hair. What was in it?

His face goes blank again. Does it matter? Whatever it was, it’s too late to do anything about it now. And knowing the truth won’t do you a bit of good.

Tell us anyway, Kelly orders.

Okay, let’s say it was the Alpha. What’re you gonna do about it? If it’s in you, it’s already too late. There’s no antidote. He grins. The virus spreads to every cell in your body, where it lies dormant, waiting for you to die.

Why? Why would you create such a thing?

Why not? We’re already dead. Or, should I say, undead. The government guarantees it. They’ve legislated it. You think they don’t own us until we’re dead, but you’re wrong about that. They already own us.

We’ll see if you think any differently once we get out of here.

"If, he corrects. Every minute you sit here is another minute closer to death for your friends. He smirks. What happens then is anyone’s guess."

Kelly slams his fist into Stephen’s face, then finishes binding him up again. He uses the IV tubing I’d used to cinch up my coveralls. Stephen regains consciousness, but doesn’t resist. He just sits there with this stupid, knowing smirk on his face, taunting us. I’m frankly surprised at how much restraint Kelly shows. If it was me, and Stephen had just injected Kelly with some unknown, potentially infectious virus, I’d gut him using nothing but my bare hands and then laugh as he bled out onto the floor.

Let me have a look, Kelly insists. He leans in and gently moves my hair out of the way. I don’t see a puncture wound. And this blood... it’s from an older scrape. The scab’s just been torn off. I don’t see anything new.

I felt the needle going in.

I run my fingertips over my skin, but it all hurts. My skin hurts everywhere I touch.

You’re shaking.

The shock is beginning to set in. Or maybe it’s something else, something... worse. It’s the infection taking hold from whatever he put into me.

Kelly shows me the syringe. A needle this large would leave a clear mark at the injection site. I don’t see anything.

I push him away. It doesn’t matter. Asshole was right. We have to go back now. Our friends are dying and all I can think about is me.

Kelly turns reluctantly toward the control panel. He gives the throttle an experimental push, but nothing happens.

I already tried that.

Kelly flips a couple switches and turns a few dials. All he manages to do is to turn off the blinking emergency lights, which is a relief, and to get the main lights back on.

Damn it, he mutters. I can tell he’s frustrated but trying not to show it. Why don’t you go check on the others? I’ll keep working on this.

Stephen tracks me with his eyes the moment I enter the passenger compartment. I have to fight the urge to plant a front kick straight into his face. Only my training and the memory of Nurse Mabel keep me from losing control.

You could just leave, he says. You and your boyfriend. Just leave them and go.

Shut the fuck up.

If you start walking now, you should reach the other end in a couple hours. There won’t be anyone there, not yet. They won’t know what’s happened.

You said we couldn’t leave.

"They can’t leave. But now that your body has rejected the new implant, the failsafe won’t work on you. And I may have wrongly lumped Mr Sandoval in with the rest of your group. He never had his implant upgraded, so he’s never been bound to this place like you are. Or rather, were."

You think I would just leave my friends to die?

They’d leave you in a heartbeat, Miss Daniels. They’re the ones who are going to be your downfall.

The words startle me, echoing almost exactly the sentiment Grandpa had expressed to me just a week ago. Shut up, I snarl. Just shut the fuck up.

I reach Reggie first. He’s sprawled out where Kelly had dragged him out of the way after tying Stephen up. There’s a bump on his forehead, probably from when he fell after losing consciousness. His breathing sounds like the agonized wheezes of the terminally ill.

Jake’s even worse. His arms and legs twitch like he’s being electrocuted. I turn him onto his side, worried he might choke on his tongue. It’s about the only thing I know for seizures. That, and to move the person away from furniture so they won’t hurt themselves.

Ash has slipped all the way off her seat and onto the floor. I roll her onto her side, just like I did with Jake. Next to her is Tanya. She appears about the same as Reggie.

Then there’s Micah. He’s still strapped into the wheelchair. He doesn’t appear to be in any distress, but he’s been unconscious throughout the entire ordeal. I don’t know if that means anything.

Everyone okay? Kelly asks, when I rejoin him in the engineer’s compartment.

They don’t seem to be getting any worse, but we don’t know what kind of damage this is doing to their brains. The longer we sit here, the more likely it becomes permanent.

Well, I’ve tried everything.

We have to move.

I start checking the drawers and cabinets.

You’re not going to find anything there to get this damn car started moving again, Kelly says.

I find a flashlight, but my heart sinks when it doesn’t turn on. Batteries are dead.

Why do you need that?

I toss the useless thing to the floor in disgust. Tunnel’s dark in places.

You’re suggesting we walk?

Stephen suggested it. I don’t tell him that his actual suggestion was to abandon our friends.

Kelly frowns. And you agree?

We have to take them back, Kel. They’ll die if we don’t.

According to him.

And I believe it.

He scowls. Okay. How do you propose we do that? There’s two of us and five of them. We have only one wheelchair. Plus, you’re hurt.

I’m fine.

You’re limping. And you can barely even use your hand!

I’m fine!

I recoil when he reaches up to touch my forehead. Are you checking to see if I have a fever?

You look a bit pale.

Don’t touch me! I’m fine! And by the way, you’re wrong. There’s three of us who can walk. Stephen can carry someone.

I don’t trust him.

I don’t either. But he can push the wheelchair. We’ll just have to take two trips.

He takes in deep breath, nods. I don’t like it, but okay. Who first?

I’d say Reggie, but Micah’s already in the chair, and even though he doesn’t look as bad off, it might just be the sedatives masking any symptoms. Jake’s the worst of the bunch. If you can carry him, I’ll carry Ash.

You’re not carrying anyone, not limping around like that. And your wrist is probably sprained.

Micah and Jake then, I say. Maybe we can carry two in the wheelchair on the next run.

He hands me the working flashlight he fishes out of his backpack, followed by the pistol. Careful, it’s loaded.

You found more bullets?

I had a lot of time on my hands when I was waiting for Jake to show up.

I check. There’s three rounds in the magazine, one in the chamber. Four bullets total. I make sure Stephen knows this. I tell him I’d happily put every single round into his head.

Kelly reaches up and punches the button for the emergency door release. They hiss and slide open.

Listen to me, I tell Stephen, you get your wish. We’re going back. But you’re coming with us, and you’re going to do what we tell you to do or else.

Or else you’ll kill me? You’re not a murderer.

You’d be wrong about that.

Stephen’s expression doesn’t change. He thinks I’m bluffing.

She’s not joking.

Neither of you have what it takes to kill, he says. Not in real life.

You really don’t want to test that theory, Kelly snarls.

Get up, I tell him. We’re leaving.

And it only took you ten minutes to figure that out.

Fuck you. You’re pushing the wheelchair. As soon as we get back to a safe distance, we’ll come back for the rest.

It’d sure be easier for you to just leave without them. Your friends are probably already brain dead.

I jam the business end of the pistol under his chin. They damn well better not be.

He stares at me for a long few seconds, then nods. Will you at least untie me? Can’t hardly push with my wrists bound like this.

You had better figure out a way.

I tell Kelly to hobble Stephen’s feet. Give him enough slack so he can walk, but not enough to run.

That smirk on Stephen’s face never falters. He just sits there and stares at us. It’s unnerving, like he knows something. Like it’s all futile. But what choice do I have? If we keep going forward, I risk killing the others. And it’s got to be miles to the other end. With the tram out of commission, it could take us half a day just to make one trip, and who knows what’ll be waiting for us when we get there. No, our best option for now is to head back, regroup, hunker down where they can’t get to us, and wait until everyone’s healthy. Then try again.

Because I can’t keep doing this by myself. I need all of them to help me fight.

Chapter 5

Kelly manages to hoist Jake over his shoulder, and the effort it takes makes me wonder how long he’ll be able to walk like that. He’s not strong like Reggie is, and he’s not athletic like me, but he’s not weak, either. Also, he hasn’t suffered physically like the rest of us have. I just hope it’s enough to get us back to safety.

He reeks, Kelly complains. He puffs out his cheeks and makes a face. He’s covered in puke.

Really? I want to say. I’ve been injected with some kind of experimental virus that’ll turn me into a zombie the moment I die, and you’re worried about puke?

A little regurgitated food is the least of my worries.

I’m still barefoot, since the boys hadn’t been able to find my shoes back in the terminal. Reggie believes they were blown off my feet during the explosion and couldn’t be recovered. Kelly suggests I try on Tanya’s or Ashley’s shoes, since neither of them will be walking. I know I’ll never fit into Ash’s fancy Nikes — well, they’re not so fancy anymore — so I check Tanya’s. She’s nearly my height and build. They’re sensible walking shoes, cheap and ubiquitous. The soles are worn, and the laces are frayed. Working class shoes. I find them a bit tight and curse my oversized clown feet, but they’re better than possibly stepping on something sharp or nasty out here in the dark.

Lacing them up, I find myself missing my old shoes. They were nothing special, just drab gray no-name sneakers, far older than I’d like to admit, sun-bleached and hand-washed too many times. I’d even restitched them a half dozen times. I used to hate the things, but now I wish I had them back. Tanya’s shoes no longer have any arch support to speak of.

Once we’re on the ground, Stephen balks. The handles are too far apart, he complains. I’m going to need more slack, if I’m going to push.

Kelly grabs a handful of his hair and jerks him around. Then try pulling instead, because you’re not getting any slack.

Stephen chuckles, which infuriates Kelly. He gives his hair a vicious twist, bringing Stephen to his knees. He stops trying to push our buttons after that.

I follow along behind him and aim the pistol at his head. I tell him to knock off the stupid noises and to keep moving if he knows what’s good for him. As far as I’m concerned, the guy’s got nothing to gripe about. In fact, he’s lucky I haven’t put a bullet in his head already. To be honest, I’m not sure why I haven’t. I tell myself it’s because I don’t want to waste a round, but I get this nagging suspicion we’re going to need him, despite his constant lying and scheming. We just need to be smarter than he is.

Not sure how long I can keep this up, he mutters.

You want to carry instead? Kelly snaps.

Stephen looks like he’s about to say something, but he apparently reconsiders the wisdom of doing so, because he suddenly drops it. His face goes slack and he keeps quiet for the rest of the march. He trips once and lands hard enough that I expect him to start complaining again. But he gets right back up and resumes pulling Micah.

Pushing would be easier, I advise.

He takes several more steps, ignoring me. But then he swings the chair around and starts to push. Unsurprisingly, he does just fine with his hands bound the way they are.

We fall into the rhythm of our steps. I count tunnel sections as they appear out of the gloom. Some are lit, others not; there’s no rhyme or reason to which ones. The stretches of darkness are sometimes short, sometimes interminably long. There aren’t any doors or offshoots. With every step, every breath, every heartbeat, I wonder whether we’ve gone far enough. How will we know?

The gun is a ponderous weight in my injured right hand. My wrist aches and I can feel it stiffening. Finally, I give up and lower it to my side. I know I’m getting lazy, and every so often Kelly will look back to see how we’re doing. I’ll bring the gun up again and rest it in the crook of my other elbow.

Stephen doesn’t seem to notice or care what I do. He just keeps pushing. He seems fully resigned to his fate for now.

Kelly makes it a lot farther than I expect before he starts to drag. He falls behind us. Every so often he asks me how I’m feeling and if I need a break. Is he worried about me because of the injection? Other than my wrist and knee, I’m fine. I don’t feel feverish or weak.

We’ve walked about an hour — maybe a mile — when Jake regains consciousness. I take it as a good sign that the effects aren’t just weakening, but are reversible, at least partially. The shivers have quieted and he starts mumbling. It’s all gibberish at first, incoherent sounds rather than words. A few minutes later his eyes pop open. I ask him a question, but he doesn’t respond.

We keep walking.

Five minutes later, he tells Kelly to put him down. His words are slurred, but it’s clear he’s at least partially aware of what’s happening.

Kelly’s happy to oblige. He sets him down on his feet, and heaves a sigh of relief. Jake stumbles backward, and Kelly has to catch him and prop him up.

Seems as good a place as any for a rest, I decide.

We all sit, save Stephen, who remains standing behind Micah’s wheelchair. He ignores me when I advise him to rest. Jake’s recovery is progressing quickly. But just as I think we’re out of the woods, he starts retching again. The episode lasts for several minutes.

When he stops, he groans and lies down. He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth and says, I’m okay. Really.

He does look better. He even chuckles a bit, aware of how much of a mess he’s made of himself. Last time I was that sick was when Uncle Joe took me to Syracuse and we ate sushi from a convenience store.

Kelly shakes his head and grumbles something.

What? I ask.

I said I’m glad you find this funny, he snaps. He gets up and stomps off.

Don’t go too far, I yell.

Just going to take a leak.

I’m grateful for the opportunity to rest. My joints ache, and my feet hurt from the unfamiliar shoes. I keep my complaints to myself, though.

Jake sits up and rests his back against the cement wall. Kelly returns a few minutes later.

Should we keep going, he asks, or is this far enough?

Keep going?Jake asks, raising his head. Where are we? And where are the others?

You remember getting on the tram? I ask. He nods. Well, we’re still in the tunnel.

Did it break down?

No. We’re heading back to Long Island.

He stares blankly at me. "I think you meant we’re heading away from Long Island."

"There’s been a problem, a glitch with our— your implant. We have to go back."

What kind of problem?

We don’t know yet.

His face twists, and I worry he might start puking again. I remember having a headache. Felt like my head was going to explode.

Stephen says there’s some sort of failsafe device embedded in the new implants. It triggers if we try to leave.

Triggers what?

I echo the question, louder this time. But Stephen continues to ignore us.

What’s wrong with him? Jake asks.

Other than he’s an asshole? Kelly mutters.

All we know is that if we hadn’t stopped when we did, you and the others might’ve died.

Me and the others? But not... not you?

I shake my head. It happened back there. My body rejected the implant. I think it was something about the new materials in them.

Lucky you.

Not so lucky. Implant rejections are supposed to fatal.

But it wasn’t. And what about Kelly?

He never got the new implant.

Maybe it’s that medicine you take, Jake says, that immunity booster. Maybe it made your body reject it.

Or protected you somehow afterward, Kelly offers.

I pull the inhaler out of my pocket.

Jake snatches it from my hand, and over my protests starts to peel the label off.

What are you doing? I cry. Stop that!

ArcBio, he mutters, thrusting the inhaler into my face. Figures.

I snatch it back and shove it into my pocket. Figures how?

Just that it’s Arc, Jake grunts.

Yeah, so what? Kelly demands. Arc runs one of the biggest biotech companies in the world. They’ve got their hands in everything, every tech space imaginable.

Yeah, I think to myself. And everyone.

We leave instructions with Jake to sit tight and to keep an eye on Micah. I can’t tell if either of them is still in any danger. Micah still hasn’t shown any symptoms, and he’s still unconscious.

If you need light, use your Link. We’ll be back with the others as soon as we can.

Jake nods weakly. Be really nice if you could bring me back something for my head, he says, wincing. It’s really pounding.

You’re alive, Kelly says. You could show some gratitude.

He lifts Micah out of the wheelchair and props him up next to Jake. Then he spins the chair around and hands it back to Stephen.

I’ll take it, I say. It’ll be faster. I hand Kelly the pistol and flashlight, and we set off back into the darkened tunnel.

Kelly prods Stephen to walk faster, and he does without arguing.

Just don’t shoot him, I say. Not yet, anyway. We still need him to push Reggie.

Other than that, no one speaks. The only sounds breaking the silence are the chuff chuff of our footsteps on the concrete floor and the ping of water droplets leaking through the ceiling.

It takes us only twenty minutes to return to the tram. I quickly maneuver the chair over next to Reggie after checking that he’s still breathing. Kelly hands me the gun and instructs Stephen to help him get Reggie situated. Hurry up! he snaps, although it doesn’t get him to move any quicker. Lift on three. One... two... three... Damn it! What are you, stupid? Lift! You really want me to kick your ass?

I brace the chair to keep it from rolling. When they’ve got Reggie in and I set his feet onto the rests, I suggest we try and sit Ash on his lap.

You and I can switch off pushing. Stephen can carry Tanya.

Good idea. But you should eat something first, Jess. You’re shaking like a leaf.

I’m not hungry.

We’re not leaving till you eat something.

I know why he’s so focused on me, despite the ongoing risk to Reggie, Ash, and Tanya. I suspect he’s focusing on my appetite, on whether I still have one, as if it might offer him some insight into what’s happening with the rest of my body.

He touches my forehead, then his own for comparison. We’re both from the exertion. At least drink some water.

He walks over to the cart. The Insta-Meals have grown cold, but when he unseals one, the smell makes my stomach grumble. He hands it to me, then takes another for himself. Six left. And you don’t get one, he tells Stephen.

I can’t remember the last meal I ate. I wolf it down so we can get moving again. Kelly tosses his empty tray away, then lifts Ashley onto Reg’s lap. He’s still shaking from carrying Jake. Once she’s strapped securely on, he gets Tanya onto Stephen’s back. She’s dead weight, and Stephen offers little assistance. Kelly binds her wrists and ankles around him  with bandages. Stephen staggers a bit, but he doesn’t drop her.

We switch off pushing the overburdened wheelchair. The front wheels keep wanting to flip sideways, but it’s still easier than carrying a body. Five minutes in, I glance over at Stephen. Sweat’s pouring down his face. He doesn’t say a word.

You okay over there? I ask. Kelly scowls, and I tell him I don’t want him to drop her.

He won’t, not if he knows what’s good for him.

I shine the light at Stephen’s face. He winces and turns away. Sweat drips from his nose and chin.

He’s no use to us if he has a heart attack.

You’re more worried about him than you were for me.

I have more faith in you.

That seems to satisfy him. But the truth of the matter is, I had been worried. I’d also been feeling a bit resentful. I guess I’ll need more time to forgive him for selling us out to Arc, even though I know he really had no other choice.

Chapter 6

We return to Jake and Micah nearly two and a half hours after leaving them. As soon as Jake sees our flashlight he comes running back to meet us. He appears fully recovered. Took you guys long enough, he shouts.

Looks like somebody’s feeling better, Kelly mutters. How about offering to help instead of just complaining, Pukeboy?

I’d laugh at the look on Jake’s face, but I’m just too tired from helping Ashley walk.

She’d started to recover about a quarter mile back. She can walk, but she’s far from stable. I’ve got her arm slung over my shoulder and am supporting most of her weight as she staggers along. The muscles in my side and back burn and my arms feel like jelly. I’m practically swimming in sweat underneath my coveralls.

Kelly’s in even worse shape, as he’s doing the same for Reggie. That’s a hundred and eighty pounds of solid muscle dragging down Kelly’s lanky frame. Tanya’s still out of it, though. Stephen’s pushing her in the wheelchair, the only one of us not sweating. He knows it, too, since he’s done nothing to draw extra attention to himself. He just keeps plodding along without a word.

Let me take Ashley, Jake offers.

I wave him off. We’re so close now that I want to finish this. Giving up now would be like admitting defeat. I need this win.

Take the gun, I tell him. He hesitates, then reaches over and gingerly pulls it free from my waistband. Kelly eyes him warily. Had the circumstances been different, I might find his reaction amusing, or even charming. Right now, I’m too tired for such pettiness.

You sure you don’t want me to take her?

Damn it, Jake! I said I got her. Go help Kelly!

Thirty feet. That’s as far as I have to go before I can set her down and rest.

I tried pinging you guys, he says, keeping pace alongside us. You were taking so long. But I think my Link’s fried. It keeps giving me this blank screen.

It’s not fried, Pukeboy, Kelly grumbles. It’s because we’re too close to the wall. The EM’s messing with it.

Okay, geez. And would you stop calling me that?

Sure... Pukeboy.

How’s Micah? I ask.

Still out. No change.

He’s lying on his back, snoring like a baby. I lower Ashley down next to him. She crumples with a moan. Her eyelids flutter open, but she doesn’t come fully to. Kelly drops Reggie next to her with an explosive exhale.

I check Micah’s IV bag. I’d hung it on an old electrical bracket protruding from the wall. When we left, it was still half full. I’d had the drip clamped off, but it’s now completely dry.

Did you touch this, Jake? I ask, panicking that he’s overdosed on the sedative. I check for a pulse. It’s a bit slow, but strong.

Jake shakes his head. All I did was hang it.

Well, obviously that wasn’t—

Hey! Kelly shouts. Hey, asshole!

I look up just in time to see Stephen disappearing down the tunnel. He’s still pushing Tanya in the wheelchair.

Hey, stop! Where are you going? Kelly calls. Stop!

Stephen? I yell. We’re resting now! Let me deal with this, Kel.

I run over and get in front of him. The chair bumps into my shins. Only then does he stop.

What the hell, Stephen? I wave my hand in front of his face. It’s completely blank, not a trace of emotion on it. No sign of strain. It’s like he’s in the same trance Tanya was earlier.

Kelly grabs his collar and shakes him.

I said I’d take care of this, Kel! I hiss.

Stephen blinks once, but his expression never changes.

When we tell you to stop, you stop, you idiot. Do you understand?

Kelly!

I said, do you understand?

Stephen slowly nods.

Then get back there!

I don’t know if this is some sort of act on Stephen’s part. It feels all too familiar. And troubling.

What up with him? Jake asks. It’s like he’s—

None of your business! Kelly snaps.

I just thought—

We’re all freaking exhausted from carrying people, Jake. We haven’t been sitting on our asses for the past two hours!

Hey!

Kelly? It’s okay.

He ignores me and orders Jake to go back and keep an eye on Ash and Reg.

Leave him alone, Kel. He doesn’t deserve this.

Kelly stares at me, then sniffs and walks off.

What’s his problem? Jake asks.

Nothing, I grumble. Just drop it.

He can be a real jerk sometimes.

I said drop it.

I’m getting real tired of always being in the middle of their petty rivalries.

How much further? Ashley says. It’s the first thing out of her mouth since we started up again nearly two hours ago. The first coherent thing, anyway. Other than that and Micah starting to mumble in his sleep, there hasn’t been much talk at all.

The tunnel amplifies the sounds of our footsteps and breathing. The darkness only heightens my sense of impending doom. I listen for signs that the man and woman we left behind have freed themselves and are coming to get us.

Or that Nurse Mabel has gotten out.

Or that we’re being followed from behind.

But I hear nothing to suggest we’re anything but alone in the tunnel.

My feet are sore.

I scowl at her, even though I know she can’t see me in the gloom. Kelly’s up ahead with the flashlight and all we have is the glow from our Links to keep the shadows at bay. Hell, I can barely even make out Stephen and he’s right next to me pushing Micah. I can hear him, though, the dry wheeze of his exhales and the occasional squeaks coming from the chair.

Reggie and Jake bring up the rear. They’ve got Tanya slung between them. She’s finally regained consciousness, but she’s