To Be A Killer

Chapter 80: There Is Power In A Union

There's a short pause. "No-I'm-I'm here in the coms shack in body. Oh my God... I think I'm going to go jump off a bridge after this mission."

"I think I'll do the same now that you've given me that mental image," Maxine mutters as she rubs her temples, while I scream internally...

Sam screams externally.

"Can we please get back to the mission," I ask, knowing this conversation is going to pop into my mind at all the wrong times.

"Uh, y-yeah. Oh, God. I'm never going to get over that," Sam says, and I can feel his embarrassment all the way from Abel. "I count two guards in elevated lookout posts, one spotlight each. Tall brick and steel fences, razor wire. Your classic rich-poor divide."

"I hate this place already," I reply, and I hear a growl in the distance. With the only light being the spotlights, I have no idea where it came from. "And we've got zombies to chase us in, because of course we do. This is going to be just perfect. Let's go, Doc."

We sprint off, making sure to stay far away from the two spotlights moving about. I can hear the zombies growling around us, but I can't see them. My mind flashes me back to when I was fifteen, having barely been at Abel and suddenly out in the zombie infested wilderness at night, all alone except for a voice in my ear and a beacon... I thought the stakes were so high back then. I thought I was gonna die that night...

I tried to die that night.

But I didn't. I couldn't seem to die... Funny, seeing how many times I've almost died, but just wouldn't, even though I've seen in my fate that I eventually and, as far as I can tell, inevitably will.

We reach the wall undetected, and the zombies are a good ways behind us. I know if they get too close they'll most likely be shot.

Have to protect the rich people inside.

I almost laugh. 'The rich' sounds so... outdated. Money means nothing now, and yet these people who have it still live the life of luxury, and have been since the apocalypse began.

Disgusting.

"Unit Seven, do a sweep of Sector Two and report," I hear a voice say from overhead.

"Copy that," Is the reply.

"Stay low," Sam commands. "There's another patrol passing just on the other side of the wall."

"Nice wall," Maxine whispers. "Nice brickwork, steel mesh. The zoms'll have a hard time climbing this."

"Zoms, the middle class, you name it."

"No one got in without a first class ticket, eh?"

"It used to be one of those-oh, what do you call them?-gated communities. The richest people from miles around have holed themselves up in here, waiting out the apocalypse 'til they can come out and spend their way to power again."

"Lovely," I say with monotone voice, and he scoffs.

"You think that's good? You should see their wine cellar. I've been reading up on it. Some butler-because yeah, they've got butlers-got kicked out for swiping a sack full of food and trying to smuggle it out for his family. Once he was out, he had nothing left to lose and spilled the beans on Roufflenet. They've got farmers in there, gardeners, cooks and maids. They grow their own food and make their own power. More than enough to go around, of course, but none of it ever leaves the compound. I mean, we didn't even know the place existed until that butler guy went public."

"So what you're saying is we have no idea what's inside," I say. It isn't a question.

"We're working in the information the butler gave us. He even drew us a little map."