The Night Sweeper: Assassin: A Zombie Conspiracy Novel (The Sweeper Chronicles Book 2) by J. Steven Butler

Author:J. Steven Butler [Butler, J. Steven]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-19T23:00:00+00:00

I sprint through the woods. My footfalls padding through the wet grass and leaves seem loud to my ears, but I know from experience that no one else could hear it unless they were very close. The woods are thick, but not so much so that I wouldn't see someone coming.

I pace myself, keeping a good speed, but not to the point of wearing myself out on the half-mile journey to the bunker. It isn't long before the building comes into view, at least the part that's above the ground.

Coming to a stop behind a large oak, I take a few moments to catch my breath. Once I feel sufficiently energized, I remove the small transmitter from my pocket and depress the single button recessed into the thin plate of metal. Ming assured me it wouldn't be enough to trigger any alarms if the bunker was scanning frequencies. It's my signal to let her know I'm at the edge of the clearing that surrounds the bunker.

I give her fifteen seconds to be safe, but I know she already has the cameras on this side of the building under her control. I watch the nearest one swivel out and away from me.

Straight ahead, one of the emergency exit doors stands up a short concrete stairway. The handrails on either side are splotchy, the paint having worn away over time from the elements. The door is six inch thick steel with an electronic lock.

I run across the clearing in a crouch. Before I've finished crossing the fifty feet of open space, I hear the heavy clank as the electronically drawn bolt slides backward into the door. Ming's timing is flawless. So far so good, but the worst is yet to come.

Once I'm inside, I stand on the landing of the stairwell and breathe deeply and slowly. This is without doubt the most audacious thing I've ever attempted. My senses are nearly superhuman, but I've never pushed myself this far before.

I close my eyes and concentrate on the sound of my breathing – in, out, in, out. I think of Mira and allow the pain I feel to sharpen my focus. I picture her broken body lying in Damian's lair, unconscious to the world, totally dependent on me to do this. I take all of that hurt, the fear, the betrayals, the joys, everything I've ever been, seen, or done, and I focus that energy into a knife-point of awareness. I can do this. I have to do this.

In any other context, windowless would make a stronghold safer, but in this case, it's given me the advantage I need. This place is about to become darker than a tomb.

Damian's private office is down three floors, through a veritable maze of halls and corridors, and sitting in a centralized location in this part of the bunker. I'll be running blind, counting on my memory and senses alone to guide me. The first part is easy enough. I've memorized the layout of the place including all measurements and distances.

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