Chapter 74

Daniel’s attention flipped up to where Priscilla was. She was sitting next to Tom, ready to release the door and let the ferals out. One of them two of them had to do it, and since she could do it safely, it fell to her to set everything in motion.

He could not hear anything through the link, but she must have squeaked because Tom turned to look at her. He was twelve and understood what was needed. That squeak, followed by the green glow of her magic, signalled the start of the fight.

Through the mouse’s eyes, Daniel could see the apprehension on the boy’s face, but the kid did not hesitate, leaning forward and pushing on the door. It opened outwards soundlessly. Tom took a deep breath and then he yelled. From two flights down, Daniel could hear him, his voice distant, but the terror was there. If that did not get the zombie blood racing, Daniel was not sure what would.

Then Tom stood there. Frozen solid, not moving. Run! Daniel wanted to scream the words. The vision blurred, and Daniel glimpsed an ear before the mouse lunged forward.

She had bitten him, Daniel realised, to jolt him from his terror.

Another blur. Tom had a hand against his ear, looking dazed. Then he looked at the open door, panic on his face, and he ran down the stairs. He was taking them three at a time at a reckless pace.

Priscilla followed, watching and monitoring, and as Tom passed traps, Daniel directed his power to activate them.

Just before the third landing, Tom’s foot slipped, and he started tumbling down the stairs. Priscilla blurred forward, reaching for the trap moments before Tom landed on it. There was a glow in his vision as she made sure it would not accidentally trigger by permanently frying the shooting mechanism.

Then she danced backwards. Tom rose to his feet, clearly gasping for air.

A shadow went between Tom and the light Tamara had left. He looked towards it. Priscilla did the same.

A zombie was leaping down on top of them, both hands outstretched, claws ready to rend.

Daniel physical recoiled.

There was a flash.

Priscilla, invisible to the zombies, blurred forward, fixing the trap that she had ruined before looking upwards at the feral that had triggered Tom’s defences. It was a hairless one, shallow cheeks, black eyes, slicked-back hair, and was wearing a tattered jumper and jeans. Its fingernails, like all the ferals’, were over an inch long and these curled into sharp points. There was no blood on any of them.

Daniels’s heart slowed, and Priscilla blurred away.

His connection with Priscilla broke. “Start yelling,” he ordered, while reactivating all the traps in the stairwell. The bottom door was open, and he could hear the loud cracks of traps and the thundering roaring of the zombies as they tried to run down the stairs. Everyone started screaming with Ivey’s impression of a damsel in distress overshadowing the others.

The first zombie appeared. It was an elite, covered toe to hair in the brown of earth armour. It looked and then charged at them. An arrow hit its shoulder and bounced off. Daniel tensed the club in his hands. It would be best to parry the blows till the earth armour faded.

In front of him, the new shield guy charged forward, faster than a human was supposed to move. He held his shield out, and his entire body was encased in a silver glow. He slammed into the humanoid with a clear grunt of pain. The feral was knocked off its feet so that it went flying backwards almost five metres. The physics did not work as they should have, which told Daniel that it was a magic trick the man must have had. Whatever it was called, it was effective.

The zombie launched itself back to its feet, snarling, and then started running towards them. But those two seconds of it being knocked away and then recovering were telling. The earth armour receded, and arrows slammed home, turning it into a porcupine. It faltered and then fell over dead.

More zombies came, and the ranged fighters took them out from a distance. Another one got close, and the crazy shield guy intercepted that, too.

“Get behind the restraints,” Ivey yelled at him.

The crazy shield man retreated, and the zombie he had knocked back died. “Yee-haw, a level,” he yelled.

“You’re Australian,” Ivey complained.

“So?”

“Yee-haw,” she repeated, and the man-child blushed.

“It sounds cool.”

“It doesn’t,” Ivey said to a chorus of nods.

Over ten zombies had been taken down. Priscilla went upstairs to confirm that none had stayed on their original floor. They had, as a group, acted more like a single unified pack than other levels, which had always had loners and fragments in their hierarchy. Unsurprisingly, they had all committed to killing the new prey.

“We need to gather the food and alcohol before the scabs get here,” Daniel declared before a recognisable shift started in his stomach. It was not butterflies. “Ivey, It’s happening again.” He warned the others before doubling over helplessly. Per tradition, post battle, the cores he had swallowed were unleashed. Six speed, three earth armour, four strength, and one more telekinesis all reacted at the same time.

Daniel collapsed to his knees and noticed Dave struggling with the same problem. The mutated but non-feral man was crouched on his haunches, his head cradled in his hands. Then Daniel forgot all about Dave as the pain sped up. He wished he could sink through the floor. The cheap carpet held him firmly in check. The agony did not relent for a moment, and time stretched on. He could perceive people around him. Hands on his shoulders, words that he could not quite parse as his senses went haywire.

Feet moving away, others coming back. More commotion. Answering with a groan, as the world spun, danced, and the cores created a noise like a banshee cat caught in a washing machine. Finally, the pain receded, and he was alone in the corridor. Sweat covered his face, but when he shifted, he looked down. The red and white carpet had no blood.

Such an intense reaction, but then he had deliberately consumed more elite cores than was healthy.

“Better,” a soft female voice asked.

Daniel started despite himself. He had the power to slow time and destroy the most powerful of zombies, but ultimately he was still human. The unexpected presence had startled him. His lack of care was not as stupid a decision as it appeared at face value. He had felt Priscilla behind him so had relaxed.

Not recognising the voice, he looked around to see who it was. It was Carly.

“Yes . . . I was asked to keep watch on you.”

“How long?”

“I think the integration took an hour, but I have only been here for twenty.”

He slumped back to the ground, realising he was drenched with sweat and his muscles were still trembling.

“Healing?”

It washed over him, and the aches and pains vanished.

“That helped?” Her voice was curious.

He stood, springing from lying down to his feet effortlessly, the ready power and agility that he now possessed on full display.

“Yeah, I think it fixed the damage from all the fits.”

“Makes sense. You were twitching violently. Is it worth it?”

Speed.

With a blur, he shifted ten metres further away and winked at her. Then shifted back. He was puffing, but he thought not as much as he would have been previously. “Definitely worth it. That speed is two dead zombies, and with every core, how long I can sustain it increases.”

“You were moving like one of them.”

“Yeah, I have a special ability that allows me to absorb their powers. It looked like what they do because I was doing the same thing. Don’t try it yourself. I think if anyone else tries it, their head explodes.”

“Really?”

“No idea. Ivey just said it would be bad. How are you after what happened earlier?”

Carly flinched slightly. “I don’t think I am a fighter.”

Daniel looked at her carefully, wondering how much to say. “I consider you to be brave.”

“What?”

“You are what, sixteen?”

“Fifteen,” she corrected absently.

“And you volunteered to fight zombies, got injured, and then you are here standing guard.”

“The ferals are all dead.” She was smiling at him, having seen the number of times Ivey had corrected his name for the humans who had died in the transformation.

“I think you are underselling just how impressive that is. Most of the adults up there don’t have that courage. There is a big difference between volunteering and doing so after you realise it is real and you can get hurt.”

“I am a fraud. I only came because Ivey insisted it was safe.”

He waved the protestations away. “We are all scared. I am scared, Ivey and Tamara too.”

“Dave and Dad as well,” Carly confirmed.

“Dave?”

“Yeah, we talked.” Yep, of course, the zombie that was not capable of talking English had been around being more social than Daniel.

“Bravery is not about never being scared. Bravery is doing what you have to, even when you are petrified.”

Carly looked down uncertainly. Then nodded agreement. She looked ready.

They headed upstairs. Daniel went straight to his old room, that was now the alcohol store. He was not surprised to find the team gathered crowded into the small space.

“Cold beer?” Tamara asked.

“How many packets did this cost you?”

“Two,” she said cheerfully, while Daniel shot an annoyed glance at the mouse.

“Sure.” Tamara went into the bathroom and handed a beer across to him. It was icy to touch.

“Not fully chilled,” Luke told him. “Reminds me of all the time I threw them in the fridge too late.”

“Gabby,” Daniel said, seeing the girl going past. “Can you please spread the word that anyone who wants drinks and has contributed to the community can come by?”

She nodded, and he sat on the floor with the beer, being careful to leave a clear pathway to the pile of drinks near the cocoon he had built.

“Leadership suits you,” Ivey said.

He groaned and waved the compliment away and took a sip of the beer. Warm, just as Carly’s dad had warned.

“Good progress today,” Luke observed. “We have two floors to clear above, and then what?”

“We keep going,” Daniel said simply.

“What’s the plan? Blow a hole in the floor?”

“Yeah, but I think we will go up rather than down.”

“Why?” the man asked.

“Because there are still people alive in that direction.”

“It will be the same down.”

“Maybe.”

“What don’t I know?” Luke, Carly’s dad, asked.

Daniel looked at them all. “When I sense downwards, I do not pick out any humans that are alive, and I felt zombies moving between floors.”

“Mutated humans,” Ivey corrected. Carly giggled.

“I will confirm overnight, but I think floors fifteen to nineteen are controlled by a single pack of zombies.”

“Intelligent?”

“I think so, and if they are . . .” Daniel left the rest unsaid.

“You are worried that our trap method won’t work.”

“Yes, so we go upstairs hopefully to save some more people and then meet the monsters below with more core fighters.”

They chattered away, guarding the booze. Dinner was delivered to them, but it was just a nutty gruel.

“Food is going to be a problem,” he commented.

“Alisha thinks that clearing upwards will solve that. The next set of floors are apartments instead of hotel rooms,” Carly told him.

Daniel nodded. Apartments would definitely have a better selection of food. Plus, if there were potted plants, then he could do some actual farming. Grow the sustenance they needed from whatever seeds were available. If there were some old apples, he could grab the pips. He was confident he could get an apple tree growing new fruit in under a day.

He smiled. That would be nice to use his power to grow rather than kill.

Unlike some others, he only nursed his beer. Half of him wanted to get drunk, but he had promised to save the kids, and he did not have the time to go off on frivolous diversions.

With the light rapidly faded, he followed everyone else to the kitchen. The cooking had finished, but they were here to reach out to the other humans. It was time to understand what was happening outside the tiny ecosystem of their tower.

It was almost dark outside, and Daniel walked over and looked down at the wider world. Someday soon he would need to face it and beat it. Daniel knew he had avoided the subject. Eventually, they would have to confront some of the monsters he had seen in the distance. But not today, and he wanted to confront each impossible task one after another and not worry about the future ones, otherwise that pressure would overwhelm him. Today’s task had been to save the four floors with humans. Tomorrow would probably be to claim another chunk of floors and hopefully save some people higher in the tower.

Small steps. Steady progress every day, and eventually they would own this building. Then they would see what else they had to do. Run, hide, expand, fight the behemoths out there. That was a decision for another time. For now, he had a simpler goal: survive and if he had the power, extend his protection to others.

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