Chapter Fifteen

I was glad he gave permission, because this side of the river was nothing like the other side. Zombies were roaming everywhere—behind me, in front of me, inside buildings and outside. As I picked a target, aimed, and shot, I had to wonder why none of them were reacting to our presence. Even when we knocked them down one at a time, they acted like they were deaf and blind.

"I don't get it," I mumbled, mentally comparing this experience to the attacks I'd helped fend off at the boot camp when I'd still been fully human.

"D-Nav to Grumpy. What don't you get? Over."

"The dead heads," I replied as I picked off another with cold efficiency. Having been attacked and nearly eaten by a zombie made it easy not to see them as human, but seeing the spray of blood and the body fall made me very glad I didn't need to sleep anymore. "How can they tell we're infected from a distance? Why do they react to sounds humans make, but not any sound we make? Why do they scream and swarm when humans kill one, but not when we kill one?"

"Overwatch to Grumpy. We don't know. Finding out the answer is one of Zed's primary objectives. If you have any ideas, we'd be glad to hear them. Over."

"Grumpy to Overwatch. It's nothing pheromone-based. They're too far away and we haven't been here long enough to fill the area with our scent. I don't think it's the sound of normal heartbeats, otherwise they'd react to Doc. The only thing that makes sense is our electric fields. Over."

"Overwatch to Grumpy. Elaborate. Over."

"Give me a break," I grumbled. The street looked clear, so I turned my attention to the closest building and picked off a dead-head through a broken window. I hadn't been the greatest shot as a living human, but my enhanced senses went a long way to making me a crack sniper. If the first bullet didn't hit, I knew exactly how much to adjust to make sure the second one did. "I wasn't the greatest high school student. I don't know all the science shit behind it, but I know every person generates their own electric field. Anyone who's seen the movie 'Compass Heart' knows that. Fucking psychic vampires suck the life right out of you with a touch. They used an EMP Blast to take them out before they could spread beyond the town. Uh. Over."

"Overwatch to Grumpy. EMP has no effect. Try again. Over."

"Shit," I grumbled. I glanced around at the other members of the squad and saw they were all grinning as they cleared the area of potential hostiles. I realized they were intentionally giving me shit to get a feel for my personality. Deciding to play along, I picked off another target and said, "What about magnetism?"

"Overwatch to Grumpy. Elaborate. Over."

I rolled my eyes, but grinned, aiming to get a few laughs out of this. "Grumpy to Overwatch. You know how it is. You walk into a bar and see a pretty girl in the corner. She sees you and there's an instant, magnetic attraction. So you get a little closer and that's when you notice the the finger in her mouth has a ring on it. It's an instant turn off. Over."

Behind me, Grady choked on a laugh and a few others snickered. I grinned, pleased with myself, until I heard, "Overwatch to Grumpy. Joking aside, you might be on to something. I'll forward your comments up the chain. Over."

"Really?" I asked in disbelief. I glanced over my shoulder at Grady, who seemed just as surprised. He gave me a shrug, then went back to picking off zombies. "Huh," I said. "Hanson said something about magnetic bracelets helping with blood flow, but I didn't think they could be an actual weapon."

"It's something worth checking out," Doc replied, his voice projecting clearly over the comms. "The electric field humans generate is electromagnetic. Usually, we don't treat the electricity and magnetism as separate entities, but maybe the virus does. It would make sense if this was engineered somehow. Whomever created it would want an easily accessible off switch."

"Wouldn't an EMP have the same effect as hitting someone with a magnet?" I asked. "It would disrupt... things... wouldn't it?"

"EMP is fast," White replied. "It passes through the body too quickly to disrupt our bodily functions. Sustained pulses can kill, but they'll kill any survivors, too."

"It might be good to rig up something like that anyway, if a sustained pulse makes them stop moving," I said. "Fly it in to populated areas with a drone after survivors are cleared out. It'd be less disruptive than dropping bombs. Rebuilding is already going to be a bitch."

"Let's focus on what's in front of us and save the science for the scientists," White interjected. "White to D-Nav. Streets are cleared. No signs of survivors. Disembarking. Over."

"D-Nav to White. The runners we were tracking are approximately one hundred yards in front of you, left hand building, second floor. They've stopped moving. Over."

As she, Grady, and Doc turned off their hovercycles and pocketed the keys, she asked, "White to D-Nav, anything on thermal? Why did they stop? Over."

"D-Nav to White. Thermal shows negligible heat signatures. I can't tell you where they came from or where they're going. All I know is where they are now. You're cleared to investigate. Over."

I didn't understand the significance of the exchange until White turned to me and explained, "Runners only run when they're chasing prey. The rest of the time they're shufflers. If they ran for no apparent reason and stopped for no apparent reason, they might have been chasing something too small for our scans to pick up or we might be dealing with lich who are taking shelter. We won't know until we go in, so stay sharp."

White took the lead with Carver right behind her. Doc followed Carver, I followed Doc, and Grady took up the rear behind me. We shifted to the left-hand side of the road in a single-file line, walking past several buildings until D-Nav said we were at the right one. There was no need for a dynamic entry. White simply strolled through the unlocked door, picking off the lingering zombies inside with Carver's assistance.

By the time I went in, the only zombie left was one with a misshapen head like someone had smashed it in with a crowbar. White put a few bullets in its knees to knock it down, then stepped closer and filled its torso with a shotgun blast. After a second blast, the damage was sufficient enough to make it stop moving.

Having witnessed the brainless zombie on its feet, I finally understood the significance of what they'd been telling me about the parasite. Even with all the damage done to it, the bastard would eventually start moving again. We were only slowing them down—not actually killing them.

"How long until it gets up again?" I asked.

"With this much damage, it'll take a day or two for the parasite matrix to compensate," White replied. "The initial head shot puts them down for four or five."

Sleepy and Doc broke off, heading over to clear the adjoining rooms and bathrooms. The rest of us continued forward, following a set of stairs to the second floor. Upstairs wasn't much different than downstairs except it had couches and coffee tables instead of bar tables and stools.

White stopped a few feet inside, gesturing for us to lower our weapons. She didn't needed to tell us why. Zombies didn't hide behind the frail safety of cushioned furniture and peek out with large, silver eyes full of fear. They also didn't look so young. As a matter of fact, I hadn't seen a single zombie child yet.

I subconsciously knew not to ask the reason for it.