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dochermesRESURRECTION EMPIRE I: "All These Empty Graves"
(2/15-2/18/2015)
I.
At two minutes past ten that night, Galvan entered the conference room on the second floor to find the team of Tel Shai knights assembled around the long oak table. They had not been waiting for him, as Timothy was just pulling his own chair in and settling down. Walking over to the far end of the table, Galvan lowered his huge bulk carefully into the chair. At six feet six, with a denser body than a normal Human's, the big Melgar treated every chair with wariness.
They were all watching him. It was not because he was the last to arrive, nor that he was a guest of the KDF and not a member. The Melgar was an immense bulk of hard, well-defined muscle with zero body fat and he drew stares everywhere. In the plain white T-shirt and snug jeans, his body was impressive by any standard. Even after having him around the building for the past month, the others still gaped a bit when they saw him.
Within a curly black beard, perfect teeth gleamed as he smiled. "Good evening, everyone," the Melgar said in a pleasant baritone. "I assume some perilous crusade is ready to be launched?"
Sitting in the captain's seat at the head of the table, Lauren Sable Reilly smiled back. "Yes indeed. We are just getting ready. I want to say again how pleased we are to have you helping out on our cases, Galvan. Our team has a variety of skills but we lacked sheer physical strength which you provide."
"I cannot tarry here forever," the huge Melgar said, "But for the moment, I enjoy both the company and the chance to perform valiant deeds."
"Well, you are welcome to stay here indefinitely." She gazed at over at the assembly. The newest members, no longer trainees, were all present. Haley Lawson, Timothy Limbo, Demrak Jin, Jocelyn Garimara. But what pleased her most that the members of the former team, who had stepped down to reserve status, had come back as well. She had not seen Josef Jubilec, Sheng Mo-Yuan and Megan Salenger seated together at that table for years and it touched her enough that she had to clear her throat before continuing. Even Unicorn had promised she was on her way.
"Team, here's the situation. For almost a year now, I have been following a half dozen different mysteries across the Northeast and wondering if they had something in common. I am now convinced that we will be dealing with five different abominable operations all guided by the same mastermind, someone called the Resurrector. And they all involve reanimation of the dead."
"Ick, zombies," muttered Haley Lawson. She inspected her fingernails to distract herself. "I was hoping to avoid those things."
"Not zombies in the usual sense," Sable went on. "When we have dealt with Walkers before, they were corpses restored to a mere semblance of life by gralic sorcery. This seems to be something different and even worse. These Undead are coherent and verbal. They can mostly pass for living people." In her late thirties, Sable was a bit older than most of her team. She was serious and perfectionist by nature, traits which had led to her being chosen as captain of the team when Jeremy Bane had stepped down.
Looking over the assembled Tel Shai knights, Sable felt pride and satisfaction. She felt the new members were equal to the two previous KDF teams and would match those teams' records in the Midnight War. Seeing the eager young faces watching her with complete trust and anticipation, Sable began, "We will divide into pairs for this and then regather here for the final phase. For the part that requires stealth and infiltration, I have selected Timothy and Megan...."
After explaining her plan and assigning the teams their specific responsibilities, Sable dealt with the inevitable questions and requests to switch from one team to another but she had thought this all out thoroughly. "Since we will be using both of the cars in our garage and the CORBY, I must ask Megan to use her own vehicle on this case."
"Not a problem," the Trom Girl replied. "My Jeep is stored at IMPERIAL GARAGE on 40th Street, ready to go." She glanced across the table at Timothy Limbo. "Tim, are your friendly ghosts in good shape?"
"They're all excited," he said with a straight face. "They enjoy your driving. It's like going on the rides at Coney Island."
Sable continued, "We will begin in twenty minutes. I would like to recommend full field suits for this, all weaponry and helmets included. But, Josef, your assignment calls for civies. I think typical office clothing would be good. Of course Galvan has not been issued a field suit, and then we have Demrak Jin. As usual in a combat situation, you will want to wear your sharkhide outfit, Jin. But at least throw a long topcoat over it to avoid drawing attention."
Demrak Jin's wide flat face with its pug nose and bristly white hair always looked sullen, even at rest. Now she gave her captain a grudgingly polite look and answered, "Of course, Sable."
Unable to repress her grin, Haley Lawson burst out, "Where's Jeremy? Where IS he! All we need is the Dire Wolf to make the reunion complete."
"Ah well, Jeremy is semi-retired. He still takes an occasional minor case now and then, but we can handle this threat ourselves," Sable said. "As it is, I can't remember the last time we had such a full roll call on hand."
Leaning back and folding her arms, Haley grumbled, "Even so, a big project like this is not complete without our Dire Wolf present."
"Everyone keep in touch through the Links as things develop," Sable continued. During lulls, I want you to report briefly to me so I know the general score. That's it, let's roll."
II.
An hour out of Manhattan, deep in the frozen wilds of New Jersey, Megan and Timothy sped through the town of Branston. This seemed to be nothing but rows of houses, broken up only by a post office and a firehouse opposite each other on the main street. The Trom Girl rolled up to a solitary stop sign and peered ahead.
Strapped into the passenger seat, Timothy Limbo had taken off his helmet and cradled it in his lap. A heavy mop of butter-yellow hair hung down almost in his eyes. He grinned at his partner in his usual friendly way. "Haven't seen much of you at the headquarters lately."
"No," Megan answered as she continued toward the edge of town. "Domestic life is more time-consuming than I expected. Archie and I spend so much time working on the yard and doing home repairs. Of course, he is still employed full time at the motorcycle shop. I come in to headquarters two days a week to do maintenance on the CORBY and other Trom equipment." She turned to give the younger man a wistful smile. "Sometimes I do miss the constant melodrama of being an active member."
"Aw, you still come running when Sable summons you for something big. My God, you and Archie have been seeing other forever, haven't you?"
She paused imperceptibly before answering. "Twelve years. We met by chance just before Christmas 2003. Twelve years already..."
Timothy chuckled. "And to think that the Trom raised you to be emotionless and cold and ruled by pure logic."
"I am Human and therefore full of surprises," she answered. "I believe that is the Grim facility we are seeking. I will slow down as we pass it."
A two-story white brick building stood by itself in a paved lot away from the street. Three cars were parked by the front door, under a brilliant lamppost. Around the property, a seven-foot chain link fence ran with a gate in front and rear, both closed. On an iron post was a lit sign that read NORTHEAST MEDICAL RESEARCH LABS - NO UNAUTHORIZED ADMITTANCE.
"Not that impressive," Timothy said as they sped up again to turn at the next corner.
"John Grim Enterprises is not the global empire it used to be," Megan told him. "Over the years, our teams have steadily whittled it down and stopped most of its criminal activities. John Grim himself has been dead for many years and his son Alexander is nowhere near the telepathic genius his father was." She pulled onto a side street within sight of the facilty and turned the engine off.
"I can send some of my boys to peek around," he suggested.
"Wait. Let me get some readings first." Megan took a slim electronic device from her belt and began tapping away at its buttons. "Hm. This is interesting. According to New Jersey Power and Gas, that building is consuming an enormous amount of electricity. It's the biggest user on the grid somehow."
"Ah-HAH," said Timothy. "Mad Scientists at work with our tax dollars. I'm sending a casper." As he spoke, one of the barely visible swirls of mist appeared over his outstretched hand. A tornado small enough to sit on his palm, the casper wove back and forth and then darted outside as he wound down his window.
Megan had been watching the procedure intently. "I still cannot decide just what is going on with your power! My most plausible theory is that your subconscious mind shapes latent gralic energy into these manifestations which follow your instructions. But I see no way to test this."
"Don't let it annoy you, Meg," Timothy answered. "You may be right. I feel by now that they have a conscious life of their own somehow. Lots of times, they seem to suggest actions by themselves that I hadn't thought of. And once or twice, they have come to me all worried about something that I wasn't aware of."
The Trom Girl made a thoughtful "hmmmm" noise and brushed back her thick black hair with her fingers before snatching her helmet from the back seat behind her. As she lowered the helmet over her head, readouts on the inside of the visor lit up automatically in pale green. She checked all of the systems of her field suit, including the round disc of the gravity shield strapped between her shoulder blades. This flying ability was one technology that the Trom would not allow her to share with her teammates.
A minute later, the casper whirled in through the Jeep window crack to circle Timothy Limbo before blinking out of existence like a soap bubble popping. "No guards outside that my buddy could see. By the back door, a guy in a lab coat was smoking a cigarette but he went back in. Cameras all over! One on each corner of the roof, one over each door and the parking lot is brightly lit."
"I see," said Megan. They were parked under an elm tree just off the side road. Beyond a narrow strip of grass was the chain link fence and beyond that the parking lot. "Analyzing the heat signatures and electricity patterns, I believe we need to investigate the level below ground." With that, she opened her door and stepped outside.
Timothy Limbo fastened his own helmet on, sealing it to the field suit and checking the readout symbols inside his visor. He was wearing the assorted gear and weaponry that came with the field suit, including the gas-powered dart gun holstered at his right side. This was really unusual for him as he preferred to work in his street clothes but Sable had emphasised this case was exceptional. "So, what's your plan?"
"I think at the moment, it will be best if you just cooperate with me," she said. "My actions will become clear." Holding up her Link as if taking a snapshot, she pressed two buttons. The entire John Grim facility went dark, just like that. Even the lampposts in the parking lot blinked out. The Trom Girl seized Timothy with an arm tightly around his waist, thumbed a contact patch high on an epaulet of her field suit, and the two of them lifted clear of the ground. Swift and silent, with no visible exhaust or engine noise, they arced up over the fence and across the parking lot. Megan landed lightly on her feet just out of a reach of a metal door that read EXIT ONLY. Timothy stumbled a bit, taken off-guard by the whole astonishing experience.
Through the communications system in their helmets, Timothy snapped, "A little warning would be appreciated, Megan!"
"Sorry," the Trom Girl replied as if not listening. She yanked open the door and dove inside, with him following. Using the light enhancers in their helmets, they could see clearly enough. They were in a narrow hallway with doors on either side. Frosted glass panels on each door had numerals and labels like PERSONNEL RECORDS or INVENTORY - CHEMICAL. Only one door had a plain glass panel and it was this one that the Trom Girl led Timothy through just as all the lights went back on.
"I knew we only had fifty seconds before the emergency generators cut in," Megan said. "They will have their maintenance staff looking for a blown transformer or downed power line outside." She did not turn on the lights in the office. Their visors amplified the limited illumination from the tiny automatic bulb next to the door so that they could see normally.
"Okay, I'm catching on. But, still, Megan, next time just give me some idea of what you're going to pull..."
"I said I was sorry," the Trom Girl dismissed him. Then she hesitated. "You're right, Tim. All these years in Human society and I still have not learned good manners. I really do apologize."
"Aw, it's all right. I gather you're going to poke around in here. How about if I send a casper out in the hall to keep watch?"
"That would be an excellent move," Megan said, again distracted as she opened a locked desk drawer and removed a large black laptop that she opened and inspected. Using her Link, the Trom Girl bypassed all security as if it wasn't there and immediately was browsing through files marked TOP SECRET and EYES ONLY.
"You're not even hacking in any legitimate sense," Timothy said. "You just ignore passwords and firewalls and whatever."
Megan answered as if from far away. "Hm. Yes, Human technology has made remarkable progress but the Trom are still far advanced in comparison. I'm copying some files to KDF computer storage and to Sable's Link as a backup. I need to concentrate, this is important information."
Standing by the door, Timothy Limbo saw whatever his caspers saw. Through the helmets, he told Megan, "Looks like a guard coming. He's checking each door to see if the locks went back on. Seems to me he's taking his own sweet time about it."
Without looking up, Megan said, "Fifty-two seconds left in the transfer, but then I will need to erase my presence. If he comes in here, you'll have to handle him."
Timothy drew his air pistol with its extended needle-thin barrel and checked the safety. He held it by his face, barrel up, and moved over so he would be concealed behind the door if it opened. Sure enough, of all the offices and storerooms on this underground level, the uniformed guard chose this one to investigate. They heard a card slide in its slit and the mechanism unlock. A man in a khaki long-sleeved shirt and trousers stepped into the room and his flashlight beam shone directly on Megan Salenger just as she clicked the laptop shut.
"Don't move," ordered the guard in a voice that was just slightly hollow. He extended his arm with the flashlight and reached for the walkie-talkie with his other hand, but froze as the soft cough behind him of a gas-powered pistol sounded. The anesthetic darts invariably stung painfully enough to keep the victim's attention for the second or two before the potent serum disoriented and then rendered them unconscious.
The darts seldom failed but they did this time. The guard swung around without even a gasp and his free hand snaked out for Timothy's throat. That grip was cold. Without hesitating, Timothy reversed the heavy weapon and smashed its butt as viciously as he could to the guard's forehead. The crunch sounded decisive but the man barely reeled back a step before recovering.
"Harder, Tim," Megan snapped. "You have to fracture the skull."
Without questioning the order, Timothy Limbo drew back the gun again and drove a blow that had all his strength in it. Just above the eyes, the guard's forehead caved in and he fell to his knees before collapsing entirely. All semblance of life left the body.
Replacing the laptop to the desk drawer, the Trom Girl came over. "We have to escape fast. I can burn out the emergency generator with my Link and we can get away. But you should hit him again a few times to make sure."
Feeling nauseated, he obeyed and knelt over the body to deliver two more heavy blows. Timothy shuddered and was worried about vomiting. He wiped the butt of his gun on the guard's uniform and holstered it reluctantly. "We're going now?"
"Yes," said Trom Girl. The lights will go out when I transmit the signal. Then I will lift you over the fence and we must hurry to report what we have found."
Shaken a bit by the calm, detached tone in her voice, Timothy said, "This doesn't bother you at all?"
"Of course it does. It may not show in my manner. We must hurry, Tim. We have to tell Sable and the others what we have found. This is a bigger menace than expected. What we are dealing with calls itself the Resurrection Empire."
III.
Just across the Pennsylvania border, a silent black helicopter descended without external lights into a clearing in the woods. In the gloom of an overcast night, even someone watching for the CORBY would have had difficulty spotting it. It was no more than the sound of a breeze passing overhead, no more than a blacker shadow against a dark sky. The rotors slowed and stopped, the pastel lights in the cockpit clicked out as vaguely seen through the windscreen. The CORBY bore no identifying markings and was a civilian craft armed with chain guns. It broke two dozen FAA regulations every time it flew.
Unstrapping himself from the safety belts, Sheng Mo-Yuan wriggled a little. "This is just like old times, Sable. You and me, Megan, Josef and Unicorn. Our team. It's been a long time since we worked together like this."
Sheng was a short muscular man in his mid-thirties, and he seemed to be Northern Chinese at first glance. But the hawklike nose and high cheekbones contradicted that. He was from the adjacent realm of Chujir, and his people could best be described as ancestors of the Han race. Called Argent in the Midnight War, Sheng had stepped down from active duty to found his own detective agency, Fist For Hire.
Turning her head to smile at him, Lauren Sable Reilly had a slight wistful tone in her voice that was unusual for her. She finished powering down the CORBY and unbuckled her own restraints in the pilot seat. "I was thinking the same thing," she admitted. "Our team never broke up, we just sort of... drifted away. Unicorn went on maternity leave and Levon moved to Danarak. You and Megan went on reserve duty. When the four newbies showed up, it seemed almost like fate to take them as replacements."
"You've done great work, Sable," Argent said. "Hard to believe so much time has passed and so much has happened. Oh well. Time to shake off nostalgia and concentrate on what's going on now. So this is the rear of Mount Saehloff Cemetery, eh?"
"Also known as the Old Dutch Cemetery, established 1803." she replied. "The boundary is about a mile to our left. I became suspicious about this place almost a year ago. We're near the small town of Brockton and nearly all of the people buried here were treated by the Kaplan Funeral Home. Mark Kaplan, the director, seems to have unreported income several times higher than what he officially makes.. and I think he's being paid by the John Grim Institute."
Disembarking from the CORBY, they sealed the hatches and stepped back to look around. Sable had taxied the stealth copter to concealment under two ancient apple trees. She stood with fists on hips and said, "I don't think we should tie down the camo tarp this time, Sheng. We might be leaving in a hurry."
"Your call, captain," Argent replied. He lowered the visor in his helmet and the light enhancers kicked in to give him a decent view of the clearing. A hundred yards to their right was a narrow dirt road and they marched toward it.
As they hiked through the darkness, Sable's voice came through the communications system in their helmets. "So, what do you think of Galvan?"
"Aw, he seems okay, I guess," Sheng answered. "I haven't really got to know him. He's as strong as Sulak, they say. He was the champion of Androval before Sulak and he's got a history of fighting monsters and tyrants. I guess he's all right."
"What worries me is that he's a bit of a womanizer." Sable's voice sounded carefully neutral. "Galvan's definitely a hedonist. Apparently, he and Jocelyn had a brief fling when they first met that didn't work out."
"Really? Jocelyn? I'm surprised. She never seemed interested in that sort of thing."
"Everyone was aghast, to be honest" Sable said. "But the two of them seem to be on good terms and there's no friction I can see. My impression is that they had a one-night stand or two and decided it wouldn't work out. They're acting quite reasonable about it. Like adults."
"You never know with people," Argent put in. "When sex walks in the door, brains fly out the window. Look, there's the rear of the cemetery." Ahead of them on their left, the field was suddenly cut off by a chest-high wire fence. It was nothing elaborate, just wooden posts holding parallel three strands of wire that were not even barbed.
"Looks like it's meant to keep animals like deer out," Sheng said. "I don't think it's even electrified."
"No terminals anywhere. My hearing doesn't pick up any hum." She clapped her old partner on the shoulder. "Guess we should jump it, eh?"
"Not a problem." Argent took three quick running steps and channeled his gralic force into extra strength. Since his weight remained the same, he was overpowered and easily vaulted over the fence to land lightly on the other side. Sable had no such advantage, but she had been training in Kumundu for years. Stepping up, placing one hand on a post, she swung her legs up and around to drop next to Sheng.
"Nimble as a ten-year-old gymnast," he chuckled.
"I try to keep in shape," she told him.
"You know..." Sheng said. "I sometimes think we have related abilities. You can channel gralic force into your senses. Hearing, sight, smell. I can direct it into kinetic attributes. Strength, speed, resilience. If we could both add what the other does?"
"I experimented that way," she answered. "No luck. And I don't see where we could have a common genesis. You were born in Chujir and lived there until you were eighteen. I'm from West Virginia. My family never heard of Midnight War. As far as I can tell, our similar powers are just coincidence."
"Too bad."
"Let's explore the cemetery. It covers thirty-one acres, according to my research. This back section has the newer graves. Up front, by the road, are graves dating back to the early 1800s and that area is a protected historical site." She started wanderering in and out between the stones, with Sheng following. After a few minutes, he noticed that Sable was stomping her feet a little more emphatically than necessary.
He said nothing, figuring she was detecting something. Soon, she started kneeling over graves and slapping the ground with her palm. Each time, she paused for a longer interval.
"Okay, okay, I HAVE to ask," he said at last. "Just what are you doing?"
Sable stood up and brushed her hands across each other. "Sheng, the echo I am getting sounds wrong. There is more of a hollow space six feet down on the graves in this row than there is in the previous one."
"So. Wait. You're saying these coffins are empty?"
"Seems that way." She started on the next row, tapping her boot hard over each grave. "Just the recent ones. That person died three years ago and his body is down there."
"They just want fresh corpses..." Sheng said uneasily. "Damn. This is twisted. How can they bury empty coffins without the pallbearers noticing?"
"I don't know. Maybe the Resurrector's men just dig it up again that night and put the empty coffin back. Look out isolated we are. No one can possibly see us. They'd have all the time they needed." She continued the process. "I count twenty-three so far. There's no telling how many there are. All these empty graves..."
As they continued toward the front of the cemetery, the ground had a slight upward slope that was not enough to prevent burials but which did conceal the rear area from the road up ahead. Sable had stopped tapping the ground. "All the graves more than a year old are filled," she said.
"So, that means either that the process only works on corpses up to a year old or that this whole operation began a year ago?" Sheng asked.
"We'll find out before we're done," she said. As they reached the top of the rise, the two Tel Shai knights found themselves looking down on four buildings. Next to the road was an old church, complete with steeple. Close behind that was a two story building that also showed signs of being ancient as its walls were made of irregular stones mortared tightly together. Two windows were lit on the top floor. Parked on a gravel strip was a red Dodge truck and a black Kia. There was a shed further back, with a corrugated steel door. That undoubtedly held lawnmowers and rakes and so forth.
It was the fourth building which held Sable's attention. This was new, a long narrow prefab structure with a wide barn-like door and windows that had been boarded over. A single naked light bulb burned over the door. She stood for long silent moments with all her senses enhanced to their maximum.
Finally, whispering even though they were communicating through their helmets, Sable said, "This is worse than I expected. I count over a hundred beings in that building and they're in a state of being... well, half-alive. They are standing motionless, breathing a few times a minute, with bodies at air temperature. It's horrible."
"Why are they being kept in there, that's my question?"
"Come on," she said and started approaching the residence from an angle where they would not be seen by any on the top floor windows. Slowly, taking great care, they crept up as Sable probed the area with hearing and sight that extended beyond anything medical science could explain.
"Four full living humans in this house," she said. Even someone standing next to them would not have been able to hear their conversation through the helmets' system. "Two are asleep on the second story. Two are awake but sitting motionless on the top floor." She paused. "They aren't speaking or if they are, I can't detect it. Wait. One is moving."
Near the side of the old stone house, they froze in position. In their black field suits, with the helmets, they were almost invisible in the night. Sable heard footsteps descending stairs toward the back door. She pushed Argent gently further around the building to remain out of sight. A minute later, the back door swung open and an old man with collar-length white hair came carefully down the three wooden steps to the ground and headed for the strange prefab structure. He was holding a large satchel of some kind, with a strap over one shoulder to help support its weight.
"His perspiration is heavy with adrenalin," Sable said. "Heartbeat rapid. That satchel contains.. some chemical I can't identify. Ammonia based? Very pungent."
While Sable was taking all this in, the old man had reached the doors of the structure and inserted a key into the padlock on the chain that held that door shut. "The Walkers inside can detect him," she said. "They are getting agitated."
Sheng grabbed her arm. "Captain, get with it! I have a bad feeling about this. Let's retreat."
As the old man swung the door wide open, and a dozen gruesome shapes surged through the opening, she suddenly realized she had been concentrating on all the wrong aspects. "Back to the CORBY!" she yelled, spinning on one heel and taking off at a full run. Even as they raced back the way they had come, an unholy howling rose behind them. One hundred of the new breed of zombies were chasing them.
IV.
The two Tel Shai knights flashed down the dirt road. Both were in excellent condition and faster than any of the undead who were on their heels. But they did not have a headstart and it was difficult to increase their lead. The thudding of feet sounded close behind them.
"Sheng!" barked Sable through the helmet system. "Shift your powers to speed. Get the CORBY wheels up and ready."
"I won't leave you-"
"That's an order, Argent! Do it now."
Abruptly, Sheng Mo-Yuan was moving more than twice as fast as before. He became a dark blur pounding the dirt road and was out of sight within a second. Racing as fast as she could, Sable put all her concentration into nothing but running. Her field suit fed in extra oxygen in response to her increased demand. There was the rise. Beyond it, not more than a mile ahead, would be their copter. Without breaking pace, Sable jabbed a hand into an inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out one of the dazzlers.
These were not as potent as the flash-bang grenades used by SWAT teams but the dazzler bulbs still were effective. Without breaking pace, she swung around to fling it directly into the pursuing mass of the undead, then kept running. Behind her sounded a sharp piercing explosion louder than thunder and the night flared up brilliantly white for a second.
Her helmet protected her from most of the effect, but even so her ears rang and dark spots swam in front of her eyes. She hoped some of the zombies had been ripped up by the blast and that more of them would be disoriented for a second. As she ran, she could hear most of them still right behind her. These were not the awkward, stumbling zombies of Voodoo. This new breed was quick and active and determined to catch her.
A hundred yards ahead, she saw the CORBY lift clear off the grass and rise up to tree top level. The spotlight in the nose cone clicked on to blaze a blinding beam that caught Sable and her pursuers squarely. Short vanes on either side of the CORBY's hull had extended and twin muzzles projected their snouts out.
"Chain guns armed and ready," came Sheng's voice in her helmet.
Throwing herself flat to the dew-damp grass, Sable yelled, "Cut them down!"
The roar of the 30mm shells passing over her was deafening and seemed to go on forever, even though Sheng knew enough to fire in short bursts. Finally silence came. She looked up and saw the CORBY lower down again, the three wheels of its landing gear sinking into the ground. Argent popped open the pilot hatch and hopped out as Sable got to her hands and knees to rise.
"I wouldn't look back, captain," he warned. "It's not the prettiest sight."
Despite that, she had to see for herself. The road and the field was littered with dozens of bodies that had been ripped apart by the high-powered slugs at such close range. Most would be hard to identify, she realized. "Thanks, Sheng. If a girl ever needed a friend..."
"Glad to help, captain. What's next?"
"Back in the bird. We're going to open up those buildings and find out everything about what's been going on here." As Argent climbed back into the pilot seat, Sable climbed in the other hatch and strapped herself down. Silent even with the rotors fully turning, the CORBY lifted up over treetop level to glide smoothly over the cemetery.
"Lower enough so I can jump out," Sable said. "One of the vehicles is gone. Look for a 2014 black Kia. License UYY422. Run them off the road if you have to. I'm going to search the building." With that, she opened her hatch and dropped ten feet to the lawn near the stone building, rolling to break the impact. Behind her, the hatch slid shut automatically and the stealth copter shot upward to disappear into the black sky.
Left on the ground, Sable dropped her hand to the butt of her dart gun but immediately let it go. Anesthetic darts would not work on these quasi-living creatures. There was another of the dazzler grenades still in her jacket, as well as a tear-gas capsule and two flares. Reaching down to her right shin, she drew out the survival knife with its seven-inch serrated blade. It would serve as well as any weapon she had on her.
In future zombie situations, Sable thought, maybe she should bring a katana or a morningstar, something direct. Or perhaps just pack an AR-15 and get things over with. With her enhanced senses cranked up, she could tell while standing there that the storage building was empty of any active beings, living or undead. She walked over and peeked inside anyway. The interior was unfurnished. In one corner was a steel sink with a tin mug on a chain, implying that the zombies still needed some water to function. Clean straw was spread over the dirt floor but there were no chairs or cots or anything to stretch out on. In the ceiling were a pair of naked light bulbs still burning.
This was where the Walkers were stored when not being used, the way you'd put tools away, she thought. She left the building and crossed over to the main residence.
For the next twenty minutes, Sable prowled through the old stone house. The ground floor contained a kitchen, dining room, parlor and two bathrooms, none of which seemed unusual. On the second floor were three bedrooms and a den furnished with overstuffed leather chairs and an expensive stereo system. On one table were scattered current news magazines and local newspapers. No framed photos or personal items that would immediately identify the occupants.
Stairs led up to an attic, which was crammed with what one might expect to find. Boxes of old clothing, some chairs, knick-nacks and stray debris. She poked around without results. Nowhere in this cursory search had she found anything suspicious.
Going back down to the ground floor, Lauren Sable Reilly paused to draw on her full sense of smell. Definitely an acrid chemical odor from under the floor. In one corner of the kitchen, a section of the wall was blocked by a round table that had a bowl of fruit on it. She shoved the table aside, found the hidden latches and opened a panel that had been plastered over to match the walls. The stinging caustic aroma rushed out as she slid the panel aside.
Sable lowered the visor and started breathing through the filters of the helmet's jawbar. Down creaky wooden steps and past dank stone walls she descended. Here was a cellar with a stench of decay and caustic chemicals. Finding a light switch, Sable flipped it to reveal an Alchemist's workshop.
Benches covered with glass tubing in which colored fluids bubbled, a shelf of jars and retorts, stained smocks hung on hooks. It was all as she had expected. No notebooks or ledgers were in sight, nor were any of the ancient volumes of forbidden knowledge she had been hoping to find. Plugged into a wall outlet was a cord with a charger, but the laptop itself was gone. The Resurrector had grabbed everything vital when fleeing.
Taking up much of the floor space was a cast iron vat, chest high and three feet across. Sable gingerly approached and peered in to see a fuming mass of thick gooey pink matter. Even through the filters in her helmet, the stink was vile. She found a thick extension cord from the vat to a wall outlet and she unplugged it. Let the filthy stuff cool off and die, she thought.
Suddenly weary, Sable pulled out a round three-legged stool from under a bench and dropped down on it. The vat was filled with raw protoplasm, she decided. The Resurrector saved stray limbs and organs to dissolve them in Alchemical fluids. This material would be used as filler on zombies that were damaged. Like using putty to patch up model toys. She felt nauseated by the whole revelation.
There was a crackle in her helmet and Sheng's voice sounded in her headphones. "Bad news, captain. I found the car but it was abandoned. My guess is our bad guys switched to another vehicle they had waiting."
"Any ID on the Kia?" she asked.
"Nothing useful. I popped the hood and ran the VIN but this car was reported stolen three months ago. The plates don't match." Sheng sounded as fully exasperated as she felt. "We're chasing someone who has put some thought into this operation."
"Return here, Argent," she said, then told him briefly what she had found. "I hate to do it but I have to call in Department 21 Black to cover up this mess. The FBI has a branch office an hour from here and they will give 21 Black some staff. This is too big for us to handle ourselves and we can't just escape the scene and leave it like this. The public outcry would be huge."
"If you say so, captain. I would rather not deal with that bunch if we don't have to."
Sable let out a deep unsteady breath and stood up. "They can be useful but they always demand service in return. Come back at once, Sheng. I'm going to get some explosives from the CORBY and destroy this workshop before calling 21 Black. This is knowledge we don't want them to be researching."
"I'll be there in a minute," said Sheng's voice. "What about our other teams?"
"I need to contact them right now and update them. This whole Resurrector operation is a worse threat than we thought at first. I think our war with his empire is just beginning."
RESURRECTION EMPIRE I: All These Empty Graves
7/20/2016
(2/15-2/18/2015)
I.
At two minutes past ten that night, Galvan entered the conference room on the second floor to find the team of Tel Shai knights assembled around the long oak table. They had not been waiting for him, as Timothy was just pulling his own chair in and settling down. Walking over to the far end of the table, Galvan lowered his huge bulk carefully into the chair. At six feet six, with a denser body than a normal Human's, the big Melgar treated every chair with wariness.
They were all watching him. It was not because he was the last to arrive, nor that he was a guest of the KDF and not a member. The Melgar was an immense bulk of hard, well-defined muscle with zero body fat and he drew stares everywhere. In the plain white T-shirt and snug jeans, his body was impressive by any standard. Even after having him around the building for the past month, the others still gaped a bit when they saw him.
Within a curly black beard, perfect teeth gleamed as he smiled. "Good evening, everyone," the Melgar said in a pleasant baritone. "I assume some perilous crusade is ready to be launched?"
Sitting in the captain's seat at the head of the table, Lauren Sable Reilly smiled back. "Yes indeed. We are just getting ready. I want to say again how pleased we are to have you helping out on our cases, Galvan. Our team has a variety of skills but we lacked sheer physical strength which you provide."
"I cannot tarry here forever," the huge Melgar said, "But for the moment, I enjoy both the company and the chance to perform valiant deeds."
"Well, you are welcome to stay here indefinitely." She gazed at over at the assembly. The newest members, no longer trainees, were all present. Haley Lawson, Timothy Limbo, Demrak Jin, Jocelyn Garimara. But what pleased her most that the members of the former team, who had stepped down to reserve status, had come back as well. She had not seen Josef Jubilec, Sheng Mo-Yuan and Megan Salenger seated together at that table for years and it touched her enough that she had to clear her throat before continuing. Even Unicorn had promised she was on her way.
"Team, here's the situation. For almost a year now, I have been following a half dozen different mysteries across the Northeast and wondering if they had something in common. I am now convinced that we will be dealing with five different abominable operations all guided by the same mastermind, someone called the Resurrector. And they all involve reanimation of the dead."
"Ick, zombies," muttered Haley Lawson. She inspected her fingernails to distract herself. "I was hoping to avoid those things."
"Not zombies in the usual sense," Sable went on. "When we have dealt with Walkers before, they were corpses restored to a mere semblance of life by gralic sorcery. This seems to be something different and even worse. These Undead are coherent and verbal. They can mostly pass for living people." In her late thirties, Sable was a bit older than most of her team. She was serious and perfectionist by nature, traits which had led to her being chosen as captain of the team when Jeremy Bane had stepped down.
Looking over the assembled Tel Shai knights, Sable felt pride and satisfaction. She felt the new members were equal to the two previous KDF teams and would match those teams' records in the Midnight War. Seeing the eager young faces watching her with complete trust and anticipation, Sable began, "We will divide into pairs for this and then regather here for the final phase. For the part that requires stealth and infiltration, I have selected Timothy and Megan...."
After explaining her plan and assigning the teams their specific responsibilities, Sable dealt with the inevitable questions and requests to switch from one team to another but she had thought this all out thoroughly. "Since we will be using both of the cars in our garage and the CORBY, I must ask Megan to use her own vehicle on this case."
"Not a problem," the Trom Girl replied. "My Jeep is stored at IMPERIAL GARAGE on 40th Street, ready to go." She glanced across the table at Timothy Limbo. "Tim, are your friendly ghosts in good shape?"
"They're all excited," he said with a straight face. "They enjoy your driving. It's like going on the rides at Coney Island."
Sable continued, "We will begin in twenty minutes. I would like to recommend full field suits for this, all weaponry and helmets included. But, Josef, your assignment calls for civies. I think typical office clothing would be good. Of course Galvan has not been issued a field suit, and then we have Demrak Jin. As usual in a combat situation, you will want to wear your sharkhide outfit, Jin. But at least throw a long topcoat over it to avoid drawing attention."
Demrak Jin's wide flat face with its pug nose and bristly white hair always looked sullen, even at rest. Now she gave her captain a grudgingly polite look and answered, "Of course, Sable."
Unable to repress her grin, Haley Lawson burst out, "Where's Jeremy? Where IS he! All we need is the Dire Wolf to make the reunion complete."
"Ah well, Jeremy is semi-retired. He still takes an occasional minor case now and then, but we can handle this threat ourselves," Sable said. "As it is, I can't remember the last time we had such a full roll call on hand."
Leaning back and folding her arms, Haley grumbled, "Even so, a big project like this is not complete without our Dire Wolf present."
"Everyone keep in touch through the Links as things develop," Sable continued. During lulls, I want you to report briefly to me so I know the general score. That's it, let's roll."
II.
An hour out of Manhattan, deep in the frozen wilds of New Jersey, Megan and Timothy sped through the town of Branston. This seemed to be nothing but rows of houses, broken up only by a post office and a firehouse opposite each other on the main street. The Trom Girl rolled up to a solitary stop sign and peered ahead.
Strapped into the passenger seat, Timothy Limbo had taken off his helmet and cradled it in his lap. A heavy mop of butter-yellow hair hung down almost in his eyes. He grinned at his partner in his usual friendly way. "Haven't seen much of you at the headquarters lately."
"No," Megan answered as she continued toward the edge of town. "Domestic life is more time-consuming than I expected. Archie and I spend so much time working on the yard and doing home repairs. Of course, he is still employed full time at the motorcycle shop. I come in to headquarters two days a week to do maintenance on the CORBY and other Trom equipment." She turned to give the younger man a wistful smile. "Sometimes I do miss the constant melodrama of being an active member."
"Aw, you still come running when Sable summons you for something big. My God, you and Archie have been seeing other forever, haven't you?"
She paused imperceptibly before answering. "Twelve years. We met by chance just before Christmas 2003. Twelve years already..."
Timothy chuckled. "And to think that the Trom raised you to be emotionless and cold and ruled by pure logic."
"I am Human and therefore full of surprises," she answered. "I believe that is the Grim facility we are seeking. I will slow down as we pass it."
A two-story white brick building stood by itself in a paved lot away from the street. Three cars were parked by the front door, under a brilliant lamppost. Around the property, a seven-foot chain link fence ran with a gate in front and rear, both closed. On an iron post was a lit sign that read NORTHEAST MEDICAL RESEARCH LABS - NO UNAUTHORIZED ADMITTANCE.
"Not that impressive," Timothy said as they sped up again to turn at the next corner.
"John Grim Enterprises is not the global empire it used to be," Megan told him. "Over the years, our teams have steadily whittled it down and stopped most of its criminal activities. John Grim himself has been dead for many years and his son Alexander is nowhere near the telepathic genius his father was." She pulled onto a side street within sight of the facilty and turned the engine off.
"I can send some of my boys to peek around," he suggested.
"Wait. Let me get some readings first." Megan took a slim electronic device from her belt and began tapping away at its buttons. "Hm. This is interesting. According to New Jersey Power and Gas, that building is consuming an enormous amount of electricity. It's the biggest user on the grid somehow."
"Ah-HAH," said Timothy. "Mad Scientists at work with our tax dollars. I'm sending a casper." As he spoke, one of the barely visible swirls of mist appeared over his outstretched hand. A tornado small enough to sit on his palm, the casper wove back and forth and then darted outside as he wound down his window.
Megan had been watching the procedure intently. "I still cannot decide just what is going on with your power! My most plausible theory is that your subconscious mind shapes latent gralic energy into these manifestations which follow your instructions. But I see no way to test this."
"Don't let it annoy you, Meg," Timothy answered. "You may be right. I feel by now that they have a conscious life of their own somehow. Lots of times, they seem to suggest actions by themselves that I hadn't thought of. And once or twice, they have come to me all worried about something that I wasn't aware of."
The Trom Girl made a thoughtful "hmmmm" noise and brushed back her thick black hair with her fingers before snatching her helmet from the back seat behind her. As she lowered the helmet over her head, readouts on the inside of the visor lit up automatically in pale green. She checked all of the systems of her field suit, including the round disc of the gravity shield strapped between her shoulder blades. This flying ability was one technology that the Trom would not allow her to share with her teammates.
A minute later, the casper whirled in through the Jeep window crack to circle Timothy Limbo before blinking out of existence like a soap bubble popping. "No guards outside that my buddy could see. By the back door, a guy in a lab coat was smoking a cigarette but he went back in. Cameras all over! One on each corner of the roof, one over each door and the parking lot is brightly lit."
"I see," said Megan. They were parked under an elm tree just off the side road. Beyond a narrow strip of grass was the chain link fence and beyond that the parking lot. "Analyzing the heat signatures and electricity patterns, I believe we need to investigate the level below ground." With that, she opened her door and stepped outside.
Timothy Limbo fastened his own helmet on, sealing it to the field suit and checking the readout symbols inside his visor. He was wearing the assorted gear and weaponry that came with the field suit, including the gas-powered dart gun holstered at his right side. This was really unusual for him as he preferred to work in his street clothes but Sable had emphasised this case was exceptional. "So, what's your plan?"
"I think at the moment, it will be best if you just cooperate with me," she said. "My actions will become clear." Holding up her Link as if taking a snapshot, she pressed two buttons. The entire John Grim facility went dark, just like that. Even the lampposts in the parking lot blinked out. The Trom Girl seized Timothy with an arm tightly around his waist, thumbed a contact patch high on an epaulet of her field suit, and the two of them lifted clear of the ground. Swift and silent, with no visible exhaust or engine noise, they arced up over the fence and across the parking lot. Megan landed lightly on her feet just out of a reach of a metal door that read EXIT ONLY. Timothy stumbled a bit, taken off-guard by the whole astonishing experience.
Through the communications system in their helmets, Timothy snapped, "A little warning would be appreciated, Megan!"
"Sorry," the Trom Girl replied as if not listening. She yanked open the door and dove inside, with him following. Using the light enhancers in their helmets, they could see clearly enough. They were in a narrow hallway with doors on either side. Frosted glass panels on each door had numerals and labels like PERSONNEL RECORDS or INVENTORY - CHEMICAL. Only one door had a plain glass panel and it was this one that the Trom Girl led Timothy through just as all the lights went back on.
"I knew we only had fifty seconds before the emergency generators cut in," Megan said. "They will have their maintenance staff looking for a blown transformer or downed power line outside." She did not turn on the lights in the office. Their visors amplified the limited illumination from the tiny automatic bulb next to the door so that they could see normally.
"Okay, I'm catching on. But, still, Megan, next time just give me some idea of what you're going to pull..."
"I said I was sorry," the Trom Girl dismissed him. Then she hesitated. "You're right, Tim. All these years in Human society and I still have not learned good manners. I really do apologize."
"Aw, it's all right. I gather you're going to poke around in here. How about if I send a casper out in the hall to keep watch?"
"That would be an excellent move," Megan said, again distracted as she opened a locked desk drawer and removed a large black laptop that she opened and inspected. Using her Link, the Trom Girl bypassed all security as if it wasn't there and immediately was browsing through files marked TOP SECRET and EYES ONLY.
"You're not even hacking in any legitimate sense," Timothy said. "You just ignore passwords and firewalls and whatever."
Megan answered as if from far away. "Hm. Yes, Human technology has made remarkable progress but the Trom are still far advanced in comparison. I'm copying some files to KDF computer storage and to Sable's Link as a backup. I need to concentrate, this is important information."
Standing by the door, Timothy Limbo saw whatever his caspers saw. Through the helmets, he told Megan, "Looks like a guard coming. He's checking each door to see if the locks went back on. Seems to me he's taking his own sweet time about it."
Without looking up, Megan said, "Fifty-two seconds left in the transfer, but then I will need to erase my presence. If he comes in here, you'll have to handle him."
Timothy drew his air pistol with its extended needle-thin barrel and checked the safety. He held it by his face, barrel up, and moved over so he would be concealed behind the door if it opened. Sure enough, of all the offices and storerooms on this underground level, the uniformed guard chose this one to investigate. They heard a card slide in its slit and the mechanism unlock. A man in a khaki long-sleeved shirt and trousers stepped into the room and his flashlight beam shone directly on Megan Salenger just as she clicked the laptop shut.
"Don't move," ordered the guard in a voice that was just slightly hollow. He extended his arm with the flashlight and reached for the walkie-talkie with his other hand, but froze as the soft cough behind him of a gas-powered pistol sounded. The anesthetic darts invariably stung painfully enough to keep the victim's attention for the second or two before the potent serum disoriented and then rendered them unconscious.
The darts seldom failed but they did this time. The guard swung around without even a gasp and his free hand snaked out for Timothy's throat. That grip was cold. Without hesitating, Timothy reversed the heavy weapon and smashed its butt as viciously as he could to the guard's forehead. The crunch sounded decisive but the man barely reeled back a step before recovering.
"Harder, Tim," Megan snapped. "You have to fracture the skull."
Without questioning the order, Timothy Limbo drew back the gun again and drove a blow that had all his strength in it. Just above the eyes, the guard's forehead caved in and he fell to his knees before collapsing entirely. All semblance of life left the body.
Replacing the laptop to the desk drawer, the Trom Girl came over. "We have to escape fast. I can burn out the emergency generator with my Link and we can get away. But you should hit him again a few times to make sure."
Feeling nauseated, he obeyed and knelt over the body to deliver two more heavy blows. Timothy shuddered and was worried about vomiting. He wiped the butt of his gun on the guard's uniform and holstered it reluctantly. "We're going now?"
"Yes," said Trom Girl. The lights will go out when I transmit the signal. Then I will lift you over the fence and we must hurry to report what we have found."
Shaken a bit by the calm, detached tone in her voice, Timothy said, "This doesn't bother you at all?"
"Of course it does. It may not show in my manner. We must hurry, Tim. We have to tell Sable and the others what we have found. This is a bigger menace than expected. What we are dealing with calls itself the Resurrection Empire."
III.
Just across the Pennsylvania border, a silent black helicopter descended without external lights into a clearing in the woods. In the gloom of an overcast night, even someone watching for the CORBY would have had difficulty spotting it. It was no more than the sound of a breeze passing overhead, no more than a blacker shadow against a dark sky. The rotors slowed and stopped, the pastel lights in the cockpit clicked out as vaguely seen through the windscreen. The CORBY bore no identifying markings and was a civilian craft armed with chain guns. It broke two dozen FAA regulations every time it flew.
Unstrapping himself from the safety belts, Sheng Mo-Yuan wriggled a little. "This is just like old times, Sable. You and me, Megan, Josef and Unicorn. Our team. It's been a long time since we worked together like this."
Sheng was a short muscular man in his mid-thirties, and he seemed to be Northern Chinese at first glance. But the hawklike nose and high cheekbones contradicted that. He was from the adjacent realm of Chujir, and his people could best be described as ancestors of the Han race. Called Argent in the Midnight War, Sheng had stepped down from active duty to found his own detective agency, Fist For Hire.
Turning her head to smile at him, Lauren Sable Reilly had a slight wistful tone in her voice that was unusual for her. She finished powering down the CORBY and unbuckled her own restraints in the pilot seat. "I was thinking the same thing," she admitted. "Our team never broke up, we just sort of... drifted away. Unicorn went on maternity leave and Levon moved to Danarak. You and Megan went on reserve duty. When the four newbies showed up, it seemed almost like fate to take them as replacements."
"You've done great work, Sable," Argent said. "Hard to believe so much time has passed and so much has happened. Oh well. Time to shake off nostalgia and concentrate on what's going on now. So this is the rear of Mount Saehloff Cemetery, eh?"
"Also known as the Old Dutch Cemetery, established 1803." she replied. "The boundary is about a mile to our left. I became suspicious about this place almost a year ago. We're near the small town of Brockton and nearly all of the people buried here were treated by the Kaplan Funeral Home. Mark Kaplan, the director, seems to have unreported income several times higher than what he officially makes.. and I think he's being paid by the John Grim Institute."
Disembarking from the CORBY, they sealed the hatches and stepped back to look around. Sable had taxied the stealth copter to concealment under two ancient apple trees. She stood with fists on hips and said, "I don't think we should tie down the camo tarp this time, Sheng. We might be leaving in a hurry."
"Your call, captain," Argent replied. He lowered the visor in his helmet and the light enhancers kicked in to give him a decent view of the clearing. A hundred yards to their right was a narrow dirt road and they marched toward it.
As they hiked through the darkness, Sable's voice came through the communications system in their helmets. "So, what do you think of Galvan?"
"Aw, he seems okay, I guess," Sheng answered. "I haven't really got to know him. He's as strong as Sulak, they say. He was the champion of Androval before Sulak and he's got a history of fighting monsters and tyrants. I guess he's all right."
"What worries me is that he's a bit of a womanizer." Sable's voice sounded carefully neutral. "Galvan's definitely a hedonist. Apparently, he and Jocelyn had a brief fling when they first met that didn't work out."
"Really? Jocelyn? I'm surprised. She never seemed interested in that sort of thing."
"Everyone was aghast, to be honest" Sable said. "But the two of them seem to be on good terms and there's no friction I can see. My impression is that they had a one-night stand or two and decided it wouldn't work out. They're acting quite reasonable about it. Like adults."
"You never know with people," Argent put in. "When sex walks in the door, brains fly out the window. Look, there's the rear of the cemetery." Ahead of them on their left, the field was suddenly cut off by a chest-high wire fence. It was nothing elaborate, just wooden posts holding parallel three strands of wire that were not even barbed.
"Looks like it's meant to keep animals like deer out," Sheng said. "I don't think it's even electrified."
"No terminals anywhere. My hearing doesn't pick up any hum." She clapped her old partner on the shoulder. "Guess we should jump it, eh?"
"Not a problem." Argent took three quick running steps and channeled his gralic force into extra strength. Since his weight remained the same, he was overpowered and easily vaulted over the fence to land lightly on the other side. Sable had no such advantage, but she had been training in Kumundu for years. Stepping up, placing one hand on a post, she swung her legs up and around to drop next to Sheng.
"Nimble as a ten-year-old gymnast," he chuckled.
"I try to keep in shape," she told him.
"You know..." Sheng said. "I sometimes think we have related abilities. You can channel gralic force into your senses. Hearing, sight, smell. I can direct it into kinetic attributes. Strength, speed, resilience. If we could both add what the other does?"
"I experimented that way," she answered. "No luck. And I don't see where we could have a common genesis. You were born in Chujir and lived there until you were eighteen. I'm from West Virginia. My family never heard of Midnight War. As far as I can tell, our similar powers are just coincidence."
"Too bad."
"Let's explore the cemetery. It covers thirty-one acres, according to my research. This back section has the newer graves. Up front, by the road, are graves dating back to the early 1800s and that area is a protected historical site." She started wanderering in and out between the stones, with Sheng following. After a few minutes, he noticed that Sable was stomping her feet a little more emphatically than necessary.
He said nothing, figuring she was detecting something. Soon, she started kneeling over graves and slapping the ground with her palm. Each time, she paused for a longer interval.
"Okay, okay, I HAVE to ask," he said at last. "Just what are you doing?"
Sable stood up and brushed her hands across each other. "Sheng, the echo I am getting sounds wrong. There is more of a hollow space six feet down on the graves in this row than there is in the previous one."
"So. Wait. You're saying these coffins are empty?"
"Seems that way." She started on the next row, tapping her boot hard over each grave. "Just the recent ones. That person died three years ago and his body is down there."
"They just want fresh corpses..." Sheng said uneasily. "Damn. This is twisted. How can they bury empty coffins without the pallbearers noticing?"
"I don't know. Maybe the Resurrector's men just dig it up again that night and put the empty coffin back. Look out isolated we are. No one can possibly see us. They'd have all the time they needed." She continued the process. "I count twenty-three so far. There's no telling how many there are. All these empty graves..."
As they continued toward the front of the cemetery, the ground had a slight upward slope that was not enough to prevent burials but which did conceal the rear area from the road up ahead. Sable had stopped tapping the ground. "All the graves more than a year old are filled," she said.
"So, that means either that the process only works on corpses up to a year old or that this whole operation began a year ago?" Sheng asked.
"We'll find out before we're done," she said. As they reached the top of the rise, the two Tel Shai knights found themselves looking down on four buildings. Next to the road was an old church, complete with steeple. Close behind that was a two story building that also showed signs of being ancient as its walls were made of irregular stones mortared tightly together. Two windows were lit on the top floor. Parked on a gravel strip was a red Dodge truck and a black Kia. There was a shed further back, with a corrugated steel door. That undoubtedly held lawnmowers and rakes and so forth.
It was the fourth building which held Sable's attention. This was new, a long narrow prefab structure with a wide barn-like door and windows that had been boarded over. A single naked light bulb burned over the door. She stood for long silent moments with all her senses enhanced to their maximum.
Finally, whispering even though they were communicating through their helmets, Sable said, "This is worse than I expected. I count over a hundred beings in that building and they're in a state of being... well, half-alive. They are standing motionless, breathing a few times a minute, with bodies at air temperature. It's horrible."
"Why are they being kept in there, that's my question?"
"Come on," she said and started approaching the residence from an angle where they would not be seen by any on the top floor windows. Slowly, taking great care, they crept up as Sable probed the area with hearing and sight that extended beyond anything medical science could explain.
"Four full living humans in this house," she said. Even someone standing next to them would not have been able to hear their conversation through the helmets' system. "Two are asleep on the second story. Two are awake but sitting motionless on the top floor." She paused. "They aren't speaking or if they are, I can't detect it. Wait. One is moving."
Near the side of the old stone house, they froze in position. In their black field suits, with the helmets, they were almost invisible in the night. Sable heard footsteps descending stairs toward the back door. She pushed Argent gently further around the building to remain out of sight. A minute later, the back door swung open and an old man with collar-length white hair came carefully down the three wooden steps to the ground and headed for the strange prefab structure. He was holding a large satchel of some kind, with a strap over one shoulder to help support its weight.
"His perspiration is heavy with adrenalin," Sable said. "Heartbeat rapid. That satchel contains.. some chemical I can't identify. Ammonia based? Very pungent."
While Sable was taking all this in, the old man had reached the doors of the structure and inserted a key into the padlock on the chain that held that door shut. "The Walkers inside can detect him," she said. "They are getting agitated."
Sheng grabbed her arm. "Captain, get with it! I have a bad feeling about this. Let's retreat."
As the old man swung the door wide open, and a dozen gruesome shapes surged through the opening, she suddenly realized she had been concentrating on all the wrong aspects. "Back to the CORBY!" she yelled, spinning on one heel and taking off at a full run. Even as they raced back the way they had come, an unholy howling rose behind them. One hundred of the new breed of zombies were chasing them.
IV.
The two Tel Shai knights flashed down the dirt road. Both were in excellent condition and faster than any of the undead who were on their heels. But they did not have a headstart and it was difficult to increase their lead. The thudding of feet sounded close behind them.
"Sheng!" barked Sable through the helmet system. "Shift your powers to speed. Get the CORBY wheels up and ready."
"I won't leave you-"
"That's an order, Argent! Do it now."
Abruptly, Sheng Mo-Yuan was moving more than twice as fast as before. He became a dark blur pounding the dirt road and was out of sight within a second. Racing as fast as she could, Sable put all her concentration into nothing but running. Her field suit fed in extra oxygen in response to her increased demand. There was the rise. Beyond it, not more than a mile ahead, would be their copter. Without breaking pace, Sable jabbed a hand into an inner pocket of her jacket and pulled out one of the dazzlers.
These were not as potent as the flash-bang grenades used by SWAT teams but the dazzler bulbs still were effective. Without breaking pace, she swung around to fling it directly into the pursuing mass of the undead, then kept running. Behind her sounded a sharp piercing explosion louder than thunder and the night flared up brilliantly white for a second.
Her helmet protected her from most of the effect, but even so her ears rang and dark spots swam in front of her eyes. She hoped some of the zombies had been ripped up by the blast and that more of them would be disoriented for a second. As she ran, she could hear most of them still right behind her. These were not the awkward, stumbling zombies of Voodoo. This new breed was quick and active and determined to catch her.
A hundred yards ahead, she saw the CORBY lift clear off the grass and rise up to tree top level. The spotlight in the nose cone clicked on to blaze a blinding beam that caught Sable and her pursuers squarely. Short vanes on either side of the CORBY's hull had extended and twin muzzles projected their snouts out.
"Chain guns armed and ready," came Sheng's voice in her helmet.
Throwing herself flat to the dew-damp grass, Sable yelled, "Cut them down!"
The roar of the 30mm shells passing over her was deafening and seemed to go on forever, even though Sheng knew enough to fire in short bursts. Finally silence came. She looked up and saw the CORBY lower down again, the three wheels of its landing gear sinking into the ground. Argent popped open the pilot hatch and hopped out as Sable got to her hands and knees to rise.
"I wouldn't look back, captain," he warned. "It's not the prettiest sight."
Despite that, she had to see for herself. The road and the field was littered with dozens of bodies that had been ripped apart by the high-powered slugs at such close range. Most would be hard to identify, she realized. "Thanks, Sheng. If a girl ever needed a friend..."
"Glad to help, captain. What's next?"
"Back in the bird. We're going to open up those buildings and find out everything about what's been going on here." As Argent climbed back into the pilot seat, Sable climbed in the other hatch and strapped herself down. Silent even with the rotors fully turning, the CORBY lifted up over treetop level to glide smoothly over the cemetery.
"Lower enough so I can jump out," Sable said. "One of the vehicles is gone. Look for a 2014 black Kia. License UYY422. Run them off the road if you have to. I'm going to search the building." With that, she opened her hatch and dropped ten feet to the lawn near the stone building, rolling to break the impact. Behind her, the hatch slid shut automatically and the stealth copter shot upward to disappear into the black sky.
Left on the ground, Sable dropped her hand to the butt of her dart gun but immediately let it go. Anesthetic darts would not work on these quasi-living creatures. There was another of the dazzler grenades still in her jacket, as well as a tear-gas capsule and two flares. Reaching down to her right shin, she drew out the survival knife with its seven-inch serrated blade. It would serve as well as any weapon she had on her.
In future zombie situations, Sable thought, maybe she should bring a katana or a morningstar, something direct. Or perhaps just pack an AR-15 and get things over with. With her enhanced senses cranked up, she could tell while standing there that the storage building was empty of any active beings, living or undead. She walked over and peeked inside anyway. The interior was unfurnished. In one corner was a steel sink with a tin mug on a chain, implying that the zombies still needed some water to function. Clean straw was spread over the dirt floor but there were no chairs or cots or anything to stretch out on. In the ceiling were a pair of naked light bulbs still burning.
This was where the Walkers were stored when not being used, the way you'd put tools away, she thought. She left the building and crossed over to the main residence.
For the next twenty minutes, Sable prowled through the old stone house. The ground floor contained a kitchen, dining room, parlor and two bathrooms, none of which seemed unusual. On the second floor were three bedrooms and a den furnished with overstuffed leather chairs and an expensive stereo system. On one table were scattered current news magazines and local newspapers. No framed photos or personal items that would immediately identify the occupants.
Stairs led up to an attic, which was crammed with what one might expect to find. Boxes of old clothing, some chairs, knick-nacks and stray debris. She poked around without results. Nowhere in this cursory search had she found anything suspicious.
Going back down to the ground floor, Lauren Sable Reilly paused to draw on her full sense of smell. Definitely an acrid chemical odor from under the floor. In one corner of the kitchen, a section of the wall was blocked by a round table that had a bowl of fruit on it. She shoved the table aside, found the hidden latches and opened a panel that had been plastered over to match the walls. The stinging caustic aroma rushed out as she slid the panel aside.
Sable lowered the visor and started breathing through the filters of the helmet's jawbar. Down creaky wooden steps and past dank stone walls she descended. Here was a cellar with a stench of decay and caustic chemicals. Finding a light switch, Sable flipped it to reveal an Alchemist's workshop.
Benches covered with glass tubing in which colored fluids bubbled, a shelf of jars and retorts, stained smocks hung on hooks. It was all as she had expected. No notebooks or ledgers were in sight, nor were any of the ancient volumes of forbidden knowledge she had been hoping to find. Plugged into a wall outlet was a cord with a charger, but the laptop itself was gone. The Resurrector had grabbed everything vital when fleeing.
Taking up much of the floor space was a cast iron vat, chest high and three feet across. Sable gingerly approached and peered in to see a fuming mass of thick gooey pink matter. Even through the filters in her helmet, the stink was vile. She found a thick extension cord from the vat to a wall outlet and she unplugged it. Let the filthy stuff cool off and die, she thought.
Suddenly weary, Sable pulled out a round three-legged stool from under a bench and dropped down on it. The vat was filled with raw protoplasm, she decided. The Resurrector saved stray limbs and organs to dissolve them in Alchemical fluids. This material would be used as filler on zombies that were damaged. Like using putty to patch up model toys. She felt nauseated by the whole revelation.
There was a crackle in her helmet and Sheng's voice sounded in her headphones. "Bad news, captain. I found the car but it was abandoned. My guess is our bad guys switched to another vehicle they had waiting."
"Any ID on the Kia?" she asked.
"Nothing useful. I popped the hood and ran the VIN but this car was reported stolen three months ago. The plates don't match." Sheng sounded as fully exasperated as she felt. "We're chasing someone who has put some thought into this operation."
"Return here, Argent," she said, then told him briefly what she had found. "I hate to do it but I have to call in Department 21 Black to cover up this mess. The FBI has a branch office an hour from here and they will give 21 Black some staff. This is too big for us to handle ourselves and we can't just escape the scene and leave it like this. The public outcry would be huge."
"If you say so, captain. I would rather not deal with that bunch if we don't have to."
Sable let out a deep unsteady breath and stood up. "They can be useful but they always demand service in return. Come back at once, Sheng. I'm going to get some explosives from the CORBY and destroy this workshop before calling 21 Black. This is knowledge we don't want them to be researching."
"I'll be there in a minute," said Sheng's voice. "What about our other teams?"
"I need to contact them right now and update them. This whole Resurrector operation is a worse threat than we thought at first. I think our war with his empire is just beginning."
RESURRECTION EMPIRE I: All These Empty Graves
7/20/2016
