hideously vacant smile shook her, but she would have swum the Mississippi to trade it for the smile he was giving her now.
Niki bit down on her lip, fighting to master her fear. She tried to tell herself that the red paint he wore was just crazy, but the truth was he sent an icy shiver down her skin.
This must be how the people of the Calimar compound felt when he and his army of black shirts and zombies came for them, she thought. Nearly three thousand people. People she knew. He hadn’t wanted more black shirt converts, or even more zombie slaves. His army came with torches lit, their minds bent on murder and sending a message to the other compounds.
The Red Man never even gave them a chance to surrender. He and his black shirts burned the perimeter fence and put the school and barracks and medical center to the torch. Those who were able tried to flee, only to get swallowed up by the Red Man’s zombie army waiting in reserve. But most were cornered in the dining hall.
Niki had led a contingent of her soldiers into Calimar two days later, all of them wearing biohazard masks as protection against an endless plague of flies. Blood had stained everything. There were huge coagulated pools of it on the floor of the dining hall and spattered on the walls. Swirls of it on the ceiling. There were broken teeth embedded in the tables. Bodies lay mangled and tangled in piles. Niki had given the order to burn the rest of the complex and then gone back to Ken Stoler at Union Field. She and Stoler had been at odds for a while before then, but that day marked the beginning of the end of their friendship. And when she considered how she had come to be a traitor to the people of Union Field, and turned her back on the man who had taken her in and turned her from a feral hunter into a leader of men, she thought of that day at Calimar.
And now, here she was, about to die at the Red Man’s hand. Ken Stoler would probably appreciate the irony.
The guards had let go of her shoulders. She hadn’t even realized it. She’d been standing there, light-headed, her mind still drifting over the events of the last two years, when suddenly she became aware that she was supporting her own weight. She was swaying like one of those zombies waiting on the edge of the road. Niki squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself not to fall. She would not let herself do that. She didn’t dare. And when she spoke, there wasn’t the slightest tremor in her voice.
“Hello, Loren.”
He hesitated for just a moment, then went back to stoking the fire.
“What do you think you’re doing, Loren? This is suicide for you. You know that, don’t you? My people are going to tear you to shreds.”
He shrugged. “That’s the price of doing business where we play, isn’t it?” His eyes never left the fire.
“What’s this about, Loren?”
The muscles along his back tensed. He jabbed the poker into the fire, no longer stoking it, but attacking it.
“No one is coming for you, Niki. Let’s not pretend.”
“What happened to you, Loren?”
“I would have thought that was obvious.”
“No, I can see the change you’ve been through, all that ridiculous paint you wear. That’s not what I mean. What happened to your mind? The last time we spoke you sounded like the meth had charred your mind to cinders. Now, you actually sound like you can string a sentence together. So what happened, ’cause from I’m standing, you may be the only person who ever got better by becoming a zombie.”
“Ah,” he said, “you’re trying to tease me.”
“Would that do any good?”
“Sexually, you mean?” He looked back at her and chuckled at the stricken look on her face. “Ah, no, I see that’s not what you meant.”
He went back to the fire. “A pity.”
She looked at him coldly, but inside she was aghast and dismayed by the double entendre he’d made. Another chill spread over her skin.
He rose from the fire, the poker in his right hand. Niki watched the
Niki bit down on her lip, fighting to master her fear. She tried to tell herself that the red paint he wore was just crazy, but the truth was he sent an icy shiver down her skin.
This must be how the people of the Calimar compound felt when he and his army of black shirts and zombies came for them, she thought. Nearly three thousand people. People she knew. He hadn’t wanted more black shirt converts, or even more zombie slaves. His army came with torches lit, their minds bent on murder and sending a message to the other compounds.
The Red Man never even gave them a chance to surrender. He and his black shirts burned the perimeter fence and put the school and barracks and medical center to the torch. Those who were able tried to flee, only to get swallowed up by the Red Man’s zombie army waiting in reserve. But most were cornered in the dining hall.
Niki had led a contingent of her soldiers into Calimar two days later, all of them wearing biohazard masks as protection against an endless plague of flies. Blood had stained everything. There were huge coagulated pools of it on the floor of the dining hall and spattered on the walls. Swirls of it on the ceiling. There were broken teeth embedded in the tables. Bodies lay mangled and tangled in piles. Niki had given the order to burn the rest of the complex and then gone back to Ken Stoler at Union Field. She and Stoler had been at odds for a while before then, but that day marked the beginning of the end of their friendship. And when she considered how she had come to be a traitor to the people of Union Field, and turned her back on the man who had taken her in and turned her from a feral hunter into a leader of men, she thought of that day at Calimar.
And now, here she was, about to die at the Red Man’s hand. Ken Stoler would probably appreciate the irony.
The guards had let go of her shoulders. She hadn’t even realized it. She’d been standing there, light-headed, her mind still drifting over the events of the last two years, when suddenly she became aware that she was supporting her own weight. She was swaying like one of those zombies waiting on the edge of the road. Niki squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself not to fall. She would not let herself do that. She didn’t dare. And when she spoke, there wasn’t the slightest tremor in her voice.
“Hello, Loren.”
He hesitated for just a moment, then went back to stoking the fire.
“What do you think you’re doing, Loren? This is suicide for you. You know that, don’t you? My people are going to tear you to shreds.”
He shrugged. “That’s the price of doing business where we play, isn’t it?” His eyes never left the fire.
“What’s this about, Loren?”
The muscles along his back tensed. He jabbed the poker into the fire, no longer stoking it, but attacking it.
“No one is coming for you, Niki. Let’s not pretend.”
“What happened to you, Loren?”
“I would have thought that was obvious.”
“No, I can see the change you’ve been through, all that ridiculous paint you wear. That’s not what I mean. What happened to your mind? The last time we spoke you sounded like the meth had charred your mind to cinders. Now, you actually sound like you can string a sentence together. So what happened, ’cause from I’m standing, you may be the only person who ever got better by becoming a zombie.”
“Ah,” he said, “you’re trying to tease me.”
“Would that do any good?”
“Sexually, you mean?” He looked back at her and chuckled at the stricken look on her face. “Ah, no, I see that’s not what you meant.”
He went back to the fire. “A pity.”
She looked at him coldly, but inside she was aghast and dismayed by the double entendre he’d made. Another chill spread over her skin.
He rose from the fire, the poker in his right hand. Niki watched the
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