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A large male zombie jumps at me. I slice at his Adam’s apple with the katana. The head rolls at my feet, and I do my best to catch my breath. This beheading felt harder. My arms are growing tired.
A few more zombies later, my arms feel like lead, my muscles screaming in exhaustion. The most discouraging part is that no matter how many reanimated corpses I or my teammates dispatch, there are thousands more to take their place.
Puck this. I’m not giving up. Panting, I swing harder, beheading another zombie just as a squadron of shadows appears in the sky.
What the puck?
They’re flying creatures, each the size of a roc bird, but they look like a hybrid between a pterodactyl and a bat. In the claws of each flying creature is a masked person.
In a blink, the squadron swoops down, delivering more zombies into the already-impossible battle.
We are beyond pucked.
Chapter Fourteen
Gritting my teeth, I will my leaden arms to move. Swing, swoosh, don’t think about gore and germs. I’m a zombie-beheading machine, taking out one after another, not thinking about how sweaty and numb my palms are getting or how my lungs are struggling to drag in enough air through the mask.
Still, no matter how determined I am, my body is beginning to give out. I stumble, nearly dropping my katana as a zombie lunges at me, teeth snapping like a rabid dog. Gasping, I lop off its head, and as I pivot to face a fresh onslaught of attackers, I realize none are coming.
The attack has suddenly stopped.
The zombies open their mouths and begin to speak.
All eyes swing toward Dylan, staring at her with hope.
“That’s odd,” she pants, wiping the sweat from her forehead. “They’re asking what the first symptom of the virus is.”
“Tell them.” Stanislav’s Russian accent is thicker than ever.
Dylan shouts a reply in Necronian.
The zombies speak once more.
“They said his name is Nulen. He swears that if we put our weapons down, he’ll talk to us face to face.”
Everyone exchanges worried glances.
“I don’t see harm in it,” Valerian says, tossing his sai on the ground. “It’s only a matter of time before we lose.”
Everyone solemnly nods. I guess I wasn’t the only pessimistic one.
The zombies back away, creating a wider circle around us.
I toss down my katana, then the gun.
Ariel drops empty gun after empty gun on the ground. Then she disables her gate sword and gently places it on the rest of the weapons.
When everyone’s disarmed, the zombies speak again.
“He’s asking Fabian to turn back into man form and for Felix to be turned off,” Dylan says.
In a flash, naked Fabian stands before us. He picks up his clothes and starts to dress.
The robot suit opens up, and Felix reluctantly steps out of it.
Stepping aside to create a tunnel, the horde speaks again.
“Step away from the weapons,” Dylan translates.
“I have a better idea.” Felix shoots the robot with a ray of magenta energy. The robot starts to move of its own accord. It picks up the backpack and stashes it inside itself, where Felix’s body would usually be.
Catching on, we help the robot stash the other weapons inside it. When our armory is hidden, the robot closes shut, and Felix makes it walk through the tunnel the zombies created. It reaches all the way to the edge of the nearby mountain, and when the robot gets there, it sits on the ground and grabs its legs with all four arms, slumping forward.
We wait in tense silence. And wait. And wait. After what feels like an hour, a new zombie tunnel opens up, and a man steps out of it—presumably Nulen. As pale as a pre-vamp, he’s dressed in strange leather clothing and has lines of black paint on his face.
He walks over to us, and when he’s within touching distance of me, he stares me in the eyes so intently, it’s as if he’s trying to see who blinks first. But no. He just steps over to Itzel and does the same thing, then repeats the process with everyone else.
A weird greeting ritual perhaps?
Finally, he opens his mouth and speaks.
“He’s asking what kind of Cognizant we are,” Dylan translates. “Should I tell him?”
Valerian nods, and Dylan speaks for a few seconds.
Nulen frowns and replies in rapid-fire Necronian.
Dylan pales. “He’s asking which of us can make someone cry blood.”
“Tell him the truth,” Valerian says. “Such power doesn’t exist, and he probably knows this.”
As Dylan speaks in Necronian again, Nulen’s frown deepens.
This is when I notice it—and realize the reason we’re still alive.
In the corner of Nulen’s right eye, a red droplet is gathering. A bloody tear that can only mean one thing.
The virus we came to stop is already here.
Chapter Fifteen
“Stanislav needs to put his mask back on,” Dylan blurts, her gaze following mine.
The chort touches his face as if realizing its nakedness for the first time. “It flew there.” He points at the other side of the canyon.
