Last Call: A TempleVerse Anthology by Shayne Silvers & Cameron O'Connell

Author:Shayne Silvers & Cameron O'Connell [Silvers, Shayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Argento Publishing
Published: 2018-09-20T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The first dead thing I saw was, mercifully, a rat. I wasn’t fond of vermin or the possibility of contracting the plague while I was mucking about below the city, but at least it wasn’t a zombie, or—Heaven forbid—a cop. I slid my finger reassuringly up and down the ridged slide of my fully enhanced P226. The gun had been a gift from an ex-boyfriend. A Navy Seal who’d known me well enough to buy me a military grade pistol for our six-month anniversary, but not well enough to know I’d point it at him when I’d learned he’d been seeing other women. Live and learn. To be honest, I liked the gun more than I’d like him, anyway; the P226 may never have bought me a drink, but it’d never made me put up with mansplaining, either.

I realized I was trying to distract myself, thinking about the past rather than focusing on the present. I took a deep breath and let it out, still following Bernie, who seemed remarkably sure of himself now that we were in the thick of things. A military man, he’d said. It showed. “Everything alright?” he asked, softly, without turning to look back at me.

“Aye, everythin’ is fine. Can ye tell which way they went?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Yeah. Down the tunnel to our left, then right, is my guess. It’s hard to tell how far, though.” He gestured towards the tunnel walls. Echoes of cries and howls cascaded around us, warping them into something manic and pain-filled. “If we hurry, we can catch up to them.”

“What if they’re trackin’ the necromancer?” I asked. “Won’t we be in the way?”

Bernie nodded. “Yeah. But what if they aren’t? What if the zombies are chasing them, not the other way around?” This time he did look at me. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. If everything’s good on their end, at worst I’ll be picked up for trespassing. If you go and get detained,” he eyed my gun, “I doubt you’ll end up thanking me.”

I ground my teeth. Bernie was right, but that didn’t make things easier. The truth wasn’t that I cared whether or not I ended up in Machado’s crosshairs, or even that I wanted to ride to Jimmy’s rescue. The truth was the flesh-sucker had scared the shit out of me, figuratively speaking, and I couldn’t shake that feeling no matter how much I tried.

And I hated it.

Ever since I was a kid, I’d been fearless. At first recklessly so, but then—over time—it’d become a choice. I refused to let anyone or anything scare me. The minute a new fear had cropped up, I’d found a way to confront it. In a way, that’s what I was doing, now. As much as I wanted to give in and let Bernie march into the tunnels alone, I would never have forgiven myself for being such a coward.

“Let’s go rescue the cops,” I said, finally.

Bernie grinned. “Anything you say, miss.

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