Chapter 72

Dave went left, and Daniel went right. Pricilla blurred to help Dave. Five large, silent steps and Daniel put down the first restraint, attaching one side to the wall and then the other.

Priscilla blurred back past him, returning to make sure that the zombies were not coming from the other direction. Slotting in traps, Daniel then added a second outer ring of restraints. Their makeshift fortress sprang into being. A human would look at what they had put down and run, but not the ferals. A killing field of pressure traps and trip wires strung across the corridor to stop them from physically getting near them. It would be enough. They had their front-line of fighters, then archers, and then magic users, and practically, the traps had already proven themselves to be sufficient.

Daniel turned to face Ivey and then put his hands over his ears. Tamara and Ingrid, who had been exposed to her zombie calling method, mimicked him.

“ARRRGGG.”

Twang. An arrow slammed into the ceiling.

“Far out,” Carly’s dad cursed as he spun around, almost falling over trying to see who was dying.

“Sorry,” a red-faced teenager said. Grabbing a second arrow, he looked askance at where his first projectile was buried in one of the roof panels.

Priscilla shared her vision. The zombies had exited the room they were in. With the hulk leading them and the eyes he saw were all sparkling and salvia dangled from the hulks mouth.

“They are coming,” Daniel told the others grimly, taking half a step forward to get ready to meet them.

“Down,” Ingrid ordered.

Grimacing, Daniel sank down onto his haunches to give the range the opportunity to shoot over his head. If the zombies got close only, then would he leap forward to engage them.

Twang, twang, whoosh, twang, crackle.

Arrows, a fireball, and what looked like an ice missile shot over Daniel’s shoulder and slammed into the lead feral. It was the ice speed one, and it went down, an arrow he assumed was Ingrid’s through its eyes.

The Hulk pushed the falling body out of its way and kept going, plunging into the first restraint, and jerked to a halt.

Noises of arrows firing—and more magic—came from behind him, and the Hulk’s body twitched. Arrows slammed home; a firebolt hit its chest and burned the thick fur away.

Crack! An arrow slammed home through the weakened fur where the fireball had landed and embedded fully into the chest.

The monster was not roaring like they tended to do. It launched itself sideways, and the restraints on one side gave way, and it toppled over with its arms still wrapped up. It shuddered once on the ground and then stopped moving.

“Dead,” Ivey confirmed after a moment.

“Good job, all,” Daniel said brightly even while feeling slightly annoyed. He was supposed to be the deadly killer, but these had been taken out by the others. Internally, he kicked himself. This was not something to be concerned about. These were the fights he wanted, where the monsters died and he didn’t.

“What next?” Ivey asked.

“I guess you give the trapped humans the good news. I have a beer problem to deal with.”

“It was the right call,” Luke told him.

“Yep,” Ingrid said. “I can’t believe they think it is okay to get drunk and expect others to feed them.”

“Hopefully it does not backfire,” Daniel told them. His earlier demonstration had shown his superiority, but small-town bullies like Beau were the type to have short memories.

Priscilla ran up Daniel’s leg and onto his shoulder, making a point of being in Ivey’s eyeline. Ivey recoiled slightly, and he got annoyed at the mouse.

A sense of protectiveness radiated out of Priscilla. She did not trust Beau and would not let him be unescorted anywhere the other man could reach. That resolve was punctuated by an image of the dark magic in Beau’s hands.

Me too, girl, he thought back at her. That dark magic felt dangerous. In a straight fight, Daniel would have no difficulty stopping him, but blindsided?

Priscilla sent a vision of herself wearing a superman suit, standing on two legs with chest puffed out. It was ridiculous and oh so cute.

“Yeah, you can protect me.” He scratched her chin.

“What?” Tamara asked.

“Ahh, nothing, just man and familiar business.”

“You know we all heard,” Tamara teased.

“I . . .”

“No one cares,” Ivey said, interrupting them. “Before you go, can you deactivate the traps?”

“Sure.” Daniel dropped to his knees and got to work. Priscilla ran around, helping.

In his mind, he constructed an image of alcohol bottles and a desire. Priscilla promptly dashed to the nearest room and sent back an image of a desktop complete with a half-filled bottle of whisky.

Good, he thought back to her. But upstairs, he pictured levels twenty-four and five, along with two chip packets. Up there.

She rushed up, scampering over his clothes till she reached his shoulder and then she stilled, apart from nodding vigorously. He scratched her chin and stood up. “They are deactivated. I am going upstairs.”

Tamara and half the fighters followed him. He was slightly surprised when Carly’s dad—Luke, Luke—fell l into position behind him. Clearly ready to defend him from any threat that might be out there. A surprising amount of alcohol had been delivered to Daniel’s room, and he built a nest of thorns to protect it. The barrier would not survive that long against a determined attack, but with an alarm built in, he would find out about it fast enough to do something.

A lot of the new recruits from floor twenty-one stopped by with supplies from their level. Ivey reported on their skills a short time later. Their combat split was very similar to everywhere else, with seven of the sixteen having a combat class. That gave him twenty-ish, plus the kids, plus himself and the club.

They were not an army yet, but they were getting critical mass.

More beer and wine were delivered.

“Where is this from?”

“Level twenty-one. Priscilla opened the doors for us,” Tamara told him. He had not realised that she had disappeared downstairs, but with Carly’s dad, Trudy, and the archer who had shot the roof when startled he had been safe from surprise attacks. “She is a smart mouse.”

“She is, but don’t let her hear. She will just get a big head.”

Tamara giggled. “You know she is on your shoulder.”

“Yeah.” He scratched Priscilla under the chin while she preened.

“What is your plan? There are no more humans to save on these floors.”

“Clear out the zombies on the nearby levels. I am worried about them breaking out and causing problems.”

“But getting your own supply of alcohol was the number one priority,” Tamara teased.

“Hardly.”

“I know. I heard what happened.”

“We can’t afford those behaviours,” he told her tiredly. “Today it might just be the three, but then what happens if Carly’s dad wants to join them?”

“Luke,” she corrected absently.

“I wouldn’t be able to say no to Luke. After all, he has been risking his life, so why shouldn’t he get a reward? And eventually, it all collapses because everyone takes the easy path.” He nodded at the growing pile of drinks.

“It won’t make you friends.”

“I am not here to make friends.”

“What are you here for, to protect Ivey?” Was there bitterness in her voice?

“No. I want to save the kids.”

Her eyes melted. “You mean that, don’t you.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how I met Jayden?”

“At an autograph signing,” he suggested.

She punched him lightly on the arm. An amused and hammed up scandalised expression on her face. “At a soup kitchen. We were both volunteering. Anyway, that was a long time ago. Let’s go kill some zombies?”

“In a moment. But first can you gather some fighters?” Daniel asked,

“They are in the kitchen. Where to?”

“Level twenty-four.”

“Why?”

Daniel just smiled neutrally. He could see Tamara thinking and then understanding lit his face. “I will get them.”

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