Deadhead, p.22
Deadhead, page 22
Carl didn’t move until the skeletal guy sat down on the edge of the bed, only then did he take his place on the chair. He waited for the man to speak.
The thin man fixed him with an intense stare. “I want you to think very carefully about what the Yakuza have done for you. Have they attempted to rescue you? Have they even noticed you’re missing? Do they take you seriously as a leader?”
Carl said nothing but found he was biting the inside of his cheek. He listened carefully as the Undertaker kept talking.
“I don’t think you are getting the kind of respect you deserve. If you worked for me, say as a double agent, I can guarantee that your work would not only be recognised and valued, but you would also be very well rewarded.” The man emphasised his last words. “Very, well, rewarded.”
Just when Carl thought the man had stopped speaking, he carried on.
“The beauty of my plan is only you and I would know you were working for me. The Yakuza would still think you were with them and would pay you accordingly. Then, if you slipped me minor pieces of information, you’d receive extra payments. Also, if you decided you’d rather just work for me, well, I may have a position as my personal assistant coming up shortly.”
Carl wasn’t sure what to say. He was stunned by the thin man’s offer. The interrogation hadn’t gone the way he’d expected at all. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it again as no words came out.
“You don’t have to answer now,” said Carl’s potential new employer. “Just think about it.”
The man stood and walked to the door. “Double agent,” he said as he left the room. “Much better than being killed.”
As the door closed Carl had to admit he had a point.
Chapter Twenty Three
Back at the Yakuza base, Spencer, Garret, Jin and the newly recruited remnants of the Burdale Yakuza prepared for war.
Jin had quizzed the boys about their knowledge of the upcoming operation and discovered that Carl had returned after his initial capture and set up a powerful listening device at the entrance to their headquarters.
Jin was impressed and appalled in equal measures. Impressed by Carl’s ingenuity and appalled by his gang’s security lapses. Cameras had been surveying the front of the dojo but no-one had paid much attention when a kid approached the door. They just assumed he was a martial arts student. Someone would be losing a fingertip for this.
It seemed the members of the Burdale Yakuza knew about the operation and were determined to mount a rescue mission for Carl. This put Jin in a difficult position and he decided to offer Malcolm a place in the rear of the ambulance. The boy accepted the proposal. The rest of his gang were asked to serve as part of the reinforcement team.
Every member of the Burdale Yakuza had been re-clothed with appropriate body armour and replacement weapons were found. They were now armed with new swords and throwing stars. Lessons on how to use their new armaments were also underway. Malcolm had refused the offer of a new sword, preferring to keep Gut Spiller.
Jin had sent one of his crew to Spencer’s mum’s place to retrieve Garret’s car and the bag of weapons contained in the trunk. The ambulance had been cleared of all unnecessary equipment to make room for as many warriors as possible. The roof had been fitted with a false cover for the secondary squad. Webbing cradles were hooked underneath the vehicle for the bunker team.
After seeing the array of weaponry supplied to Malcom and friends, Spencer pleaded with Garret to be armed with a handgun. Garret relented and supplied the boy with a Smith and Wesson M&P Shield, a lightweight pistol with manageable recoil. The gun was loaded with 9mm ammunition so still had the stopping power of a bulkier weapon. Garret went over the safety and firing procedures several times until he was confident Spencer could use the weapon as safely as possible. Though ‘safely’ was a relative term when it came to arming a reckless fifteen year old boy. Still, given what they’d be walking into, it was a necessary evil.
As the sky began to darken the team assembled by the ambulance. Jin had handpicked the assault force. The two men who would be travelling under the vehicle were heavily armed and experienced in explosives and infiltration.
The four man team, who would take cover on the roof of the ambulance, had been selected from the Yakuza’s fearsome Shadow Warrior division. These deadly assassins were renowned for their stealth and speed. The Undertaker’s sentries wouldn’t know they were there until they felt knives at their throats.
The remaining nine men, who would squeeze into the rear of the ambulance with Jin, Endo and Malcolm, were all experts in hand to hand combat. They were the very best warriors the Yakuza leader had at his disposal.
The entire force was armed with traditional weapons; katana, stars and knives but each man also carried a handgun, a sub-machine gun, stun grenades and smoke.
When they arrived at the Undertaker’s base they would split into two, seven man squads. Jin, Spencer, Malcolm and four Yakuza would head upstairs to rescue the prisoners while Garret and Endo led the remaining Yakuza on a search and kill mission. Their objective was to take out the Undertaker. They would also disable the hospitals communications and surveillance systems. Both teams would be seriously outnumbered but with the advantage of surprise and speed it was hoped they could be in and out before anyone realised what was going on. If things did go pear shaped, reinforcements were only minutes away. Once they’d completed their missions the two teams would rendezvous back in the ambulance bay. When the assembled teams were briefed Jin announced that departure was in fifteen minutes and final checks should be made.
• • •
Spencer watched as Garret got ready for the assault. The cop had pistols on both hips, a short handled pump action shotgun strapped to his side and a bandoleer containing shotgun shells across his chest. Spencer thought he looked a bit like Lara Croft from Tomb Raider but considerably more male and decomposing.
Spencer noticed that Garret was wearing a coat to hide the weaponry but didn’t have any body armour on. “Why aren’t you wearing a vest?” he asked.
“There didn’t seem to be much point,” replied the cop. “What are another few holes. Besides, I don’t intend to be shot. I’m gonna be doing the shooting for a change.” He patted the ammunition belt that was strapped to his chest. “When I was in the police I was hardly ever armed and they definitely frowned on heavy artillery. If I’d been carrying more than just a taser on the night the Undertaker got me, things might have been different.”
“Why weren’t you?”
Garret looked sad. “A combination of police policy and laziness I guess. We aren’t supposed to be armed unless we are going into a life threatening situation. I was on a stakeout and didn’t even think about carrying. Cadence is the opposite, she’s always got a gun nearby. Guess that makes her smarter than me.”
“It certainly makes her scarier,” said Spencer, “but you shouldn’t beat yourself up. You couldn’t have known you were going to come up against someone like the Undertaker.”
Garret gave a crooked smile. “Sometimes, you’re not as objectionable as I first thought.”
“High praise indeed,” Spencer replied, “considering that when we first met you were ready to squeeze my neck until my eyes popped out of my head.”
“Ah,” sighed Garret. “Good times. I miss those days. Back when I still had ten fingers.”
Spencer grew serious. “I really am sorry about everything that has happened Garret. I just wanted a bodyguard. Now you are stuck in an undead limbo, Regan and Cadence have been captured by a dangerous lunatic and I am about to become a zombie maker for the Yakuza. That’s assuming we don’t all get killed in the raid.”
“Things don’t usually work out as planned,” said Garret. “I’m dying proof of that.” The cop walked over and Spencer felt a pat on his shoulder. The dead cop’s hand stuck to the material of Spencer’s T-shirt for a second. It made a tacky sound as it released, leaving a small patch of skin on Spencer’s clothing. Neither, commented on it. Garret continued. “Maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Keeps life interesting.”
Garret stepped back and Spencer watched as he pumped a round into his shotgun. “To be honest, as long as I can see Cadence one more time it will have been worth coming back.”
“You should tell Cadence that when you see her,” said Spencer gently.
The dead cop smiled. “Maybe I will.”
“And Garret,” continued Spencer. “Now that we’ve had this tender moment, why don’t you tell me where you hid the money from the bank robbery?”
The man let out a low chuckle. “Good try kid. I might after we get back. I haven’t finished with you yet.”
Spencer wasn’t sure what Garret meant by that but knew not to push his luck any further.
• • •
The ambulance bumped its way along a rough road about a kilometre from the Undertaker’s headquarters.
Spencer sat pressed against the passenger door next to Garret, who was wedged between the boy and Lerns.
The biker was driving, a surly look plastered on his face. This was due to the pistol Garret had resting in his lap, the barrel pointing towards the gang member.
Before long the imposing outline of the abandoned hospital loomed before them. At first sight, it looked like a gigantic crumbling concrete block that had been dropped from the heavens and was slowly being eroded by the weather. The fence that spanned the perimeter was the complete opposite. It was well maintained and weatherproof. Its links weren’t rusty and the razor wire on top shone sharply in the waxy moonlight.
The concrete bunker that guarded the entrance to the hospital came into view. Lerns spoke for the first time since leaving the dojo.
“Last chance to give up on this suicide mission,” he growled.
Garret placed the pistol against the big man’s stomach. “Just play your part and we won’t have any problems.”
He held the barrel steady, exerting just enough pressure for the biker to feel the muzzle through his clothing. “If you don’t, I won’t try and eat your brains this time. I’ll settle for a gut shot. First bullet won’t kill you but it will certainly hurt. I’ll put the second shot in your neck and you won’t come back from that.”
The biker turned to look at Garret. “What do you think the Undertaker will do to me if he finds out I’ve helped you?”
“Probably something equally nasty,” replied the dead cop. “But he can’t do anything if we kill him, can he? If, by some miracle, he does survive then you could explain to him about the gun in your gut. Tell him you had no option. Either way your odds are better with us.”
“Suppose so but I doubt anyone would offer me life insurance,” the big man grunted. “When we get to the barrier try and look a bit deader. They’re expecting a mindless zombie.”
Garret shifted in his seat. He tilted his head to the side and let his face go slack. His bung eye was coming loose again and it jiggled as the ambulance bounced along the road. Garret put a bit more pressure on the gun. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking I’m not concentrating just because I look brain dead.”
The biker didn’t reply. They approached the bunker which wasn’t as big as Garret had expected. It was a similar size and shape to a band rotunda but the walls were thick and it was fully enclosed. An automatic barrier arm sat in the down position across the narrow roadway. It would be possible to drive around it but that would put you in the minefield.
Two men sat behind a thick glass window that was built into the bunker. They looked out as the ambulance rolled to a stop. The driver’s window of the ambulance lined up with the bunker. The guard closest to the ambulance slid the glass partition open and indicated for Lerns to wind his window down. The biker complied. Garret gave Lerns a quick jab with the pistol to remind him who was in charge. The biker flinched but the movement didn’t show on his face.
“Zombie and a kid for the boss,” Lerns said to the man in the bunker.
The guy laughed. “That’s not a sentence you hear every day.”
The other man in the bunker raised an eyebrow but didn’t join in the laughter. “They’re expected. Send em through,” he said.
“Hang on,” said the first man, starting to rise. “I want to have a look at the zombie.”
Garret lolled forward slightly to make it easier for the man in the booth to see him. Lerns pushed him back.
“You can see him another time,” snapped the biker. “He stinks and he’s makin my skin crawl. I just wanna get him out of here.”
The second man responded. “How come you didn’t put him in the back then?”
Lerns rolled his eyes. “The other two guys wouldn’t let me, said he’d make their suits smell.”
The second man gave a small nod. “That’d be right. Those guys are up themselves.” He pressed a button on the wall beside him and the barrier arm began to lift. “Better not keep the boss waiting.”
The first man pushed the glass window back into place and returned his attention to a computer on his desk.
Lerns pressed the accelerator pedal and the ambulance lurched forward, passing under the barrier arm which was now fully vertical. Garret glanced at the driver’s side mirror and watched as two figures rolled from under the vehicle and crawled to the rear of the bunker, unseen and unheard.
Garret withdrew his pistol from Lern’s side. “Good work,” he said.
“Wasn’t lying. You do stink,” muttered the biker.
“It’s hard to shower when your flesh comes off and blocks the plug hole.”
“That’s disgusting,” said Lerns, screwing up his face.
Garret leant back against the seat. “It is what it…”
The dead cop suddenly stopped speaking and began to spasm violently. Spittle shot from his mouth and his one working eye rolled back in his head.
Spencer reacted quickly; he snapped off his seatbelt and pushed one hand against Garret’s chest to hold him steady. He jammed two fingers of his other hand into the cop’s neck to check his pulse.
Lerns started to panic. “What’s wrong with him?” he yelled. The biker took his foot off the accelerator and the ambulance began to slow.
“Some sort of a seizure,” snapped Spencer. “Keep driving, we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”
Lerns leant as far away from Garret’s pulsing body as he could get, hunched against the door frame. He stamped on the pedal and the ambulance launched forward. They were closing in on the hospital now and Lerns swung the wheel to the left as the road skirted the front of the building. Garret’s arm shot out, gun grasped loosely in his fist. The weapon struck Lerns in the chest. The biker recoiled in horror.
“Do something,” he screamed at the boy, “before he shoots us all.
Spencer drew his hand back and slapped Garret hard across the face. The cop gave one final jerk and then his body settled and his eye came back into focus. He was panting hard. Spencer removed his hand from Garret’s chest and slumped back into his seat. The boy was trembling.
“What the hell was that?” shrieked Lerns.
Spencer rubbed his forehead. “There’s a camera floating around in his brain. It got stuck. I loosened it.”
“Jesus,” exclaimed the biker.
Spencer placed a hand on Garret’s shoulder. The cops breathing had slowed again. “You okay?”
The cop nodded slowly and drew in big gulps of air. “I think so but that wasn’t pleasant. Is it going to happen a lot?”
“I hope not,” replied Spencer. “But I really don’t know.”
Garret pushed the boy’s hand away and leant forward. “Being a zombie sucks,” he muttered.
Lerns swung the steering wheel to the right as the ambulance headed down the front of the hospital, toward the loading bay. “You better hope you don’t crap out again anytime soon because it’s gonna be all on in a minute.”
“I’m fine,” snapped Garret. His body was still shaking slightly and one of his finger’s stuck out at an oblique angle. He noticed and snapped it back into place with a sickening crack. “You just worry about parking. When we stop I’ll lock you in the back of the ambulance. If we win you go free. If we don’t, you were our prisoner, okay?
“It’s not like I have a choice is it?” grumbled the biker.
The ambulance bay was a covered concrete area that allowed vehicles to back up to the doors of the old accident and emergency ward. Lerns pulled the ambulance past the parking bay, out of sight of the hospital doors, stopped and put it into reverse. Spencer held up his hand.
“Wait here for a sec.” The boy banged his fist on the ceiling of the cab. This was the signal for the Shadow Warriors to shed their cover and head to the hospital roof. Spencer heard activity from above as the men decamped. He glanced at the passenger side mirror and saw four dark shapes race to the side of the building and begin scaling the wall.
“Okay, drive on,” Spencer said to Lerns.
The biker accelerated, swinging the rear of the ambulance around and then stopped with the back of the vehicle facing the hospital doors. He switched off the engine and the ambulance shuddered to a stop.
The cop’s tremors had ceased. He seemed to have fully recovered.
“Let’s do it,” said Garret. He raised his pistol and held it against Lerns’s chest. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“Thought never entered my head,” the biker replied as he shoved open the ambulance door. Garret got out with him while Spencer exited from the passenger side. They met at the rear of the ambulance.
