Dirge Danorum
Chapter 26
It had been a while for both of us, but constant, shared, near-death experiences have a way of knocking the rust off. All the same, fatigues and holsters and armor weren't exactly made for this sort of thing. We were still in the fumbling around with buttons and buckles stage when the shout came from outside – but I'd been enjoying even that part, and I was upset to be interrupted like this. Again.
But Velvet sat bolt upright, and I narrowly avoided the inadvertent headbutt. Yes, yes – I knew – one of us would have to go and see what was going on. And it was going to be me. I pushed her back down. "Wait here," I told her, and she nodded, blushing.
The faster I took care of this, the faster I could be back. I went out into the hall, straightening my undershirt, which Velvet had been in the process of pulling over my head. I brushed my hair of my eyes and went out into the cold.
The band had stopped playing. Stalkers were clustered around one of the big tents, or rather, on either side of it. "What's going on?" Nobody paid me any attention, so I pushed my way through. "Come on, people – I'm the goddamn LT, apparently. Get the hell out of the way." I reached the front and stopped. "Son of a bitch," I said, and I meant it like I'd never meant it before. Velvet didn't need to know about this, not tonight.
There was a body in the dirt between the tent and the outer wall. It was dark back here, but several stalkers had their lights on the corpse. I didn't know this guy; he was one of the young men we'd picked up the day before, during the final stretch.
He'd been drained. The stalkers were all murmuring, and it was easy to understand why. For a moment I forgot all about Velvet, and that meant this was serious.
The gates were all manned. The wall was too high to jump, and couldn't be climbed. The drinker had to have come past the guards. Not impossible, just highly unlikely – or it had to have been here or along. Or there was another way into the compound.
I gave orders for the body to be dealt with, checked with the guards, and put together a team to scour the inside of the compound for any way in we could have missed. I'd have to check the inside of the building myself; access was restricted because of the sisters, and I couldn't just send a crowd of people in there.
Someone touched my shoulder, and I turned. Exile's eyes flicked down, and I looked to see that my belt was undone. When had Velvet done that? I fixed it and told him to make extra sure the watch was alert through the night. I'd been in the Zone only a couple of weeks and there I was, giving orders to more formidable men who had been there much longer. But Exile didn't seem to mind.
This wasn't something that could wait; it had to be dealt with now. I went to check with the guards, and Exile did the same. The band wouldn't play again tonight. You just can't let your guard down anywhere.
I met with Exile outside the main door to the building, which people were now calling HQ. "What do you think?" I asked.
You know, I really liked him a lot more than Ever. And he seemed to like me too. He turned and looked at a pair of the guards.
He folded his arms. "It's too early for any of them to be sleeping, and it's just the second night. I know most of these men. I don't think our friend got by them." He turned back to me. "That's a problem with this location – when there's no wind, we can smell the moors, and so we can't smell the drinkers. It's not still like this very often, but even so. It's dangerous."
"I know. I'm not worried about that, though. I'm worried about this drinker. He hit us on the road, now again. He's too brave. I don't like it. Even a group wouldn't come near this many men. What makes this one different?"
"Maybe he's insane. Or stupid. They have to have them."
"But he's not stupid, he's good. He has to be to keep taking people with so many of us around."
"Agreed," Exile said, nodding. "We've got to take him before this happens again. Shall we put out word for a hunter?"
"No. This thing'll have worked itself out by the time one could get here."
"You don't know that – there could be someone in the area."
"We've already got the best hunter in the Zone here."
"The Merc?"
"Who else?"
Exile shrugged. "Fair enough."
"You're cleared to be inside, right? Of course you are." I clapped him on the shoulder. "Come on."
He followed me in, to the window to Grigor's lab. We knocked, and he let us in.
"What's afoot?"
"There may be a drinker inside the perimeter. One of the rookies was drained," Exile told him. Grigor looked troubled. He was old, but he was still a stalker. He understood the logistics of the situation.
"What do you need?"
"Just this." I tapped the trap door with my foot. "Watch the door while we're down there."
"Nothing's gotten past me," Grigor said. "This door has not been opened."
"No, but the breach could still be down there."
He nodded, and I handed him Lunch Box.
"What about you?" Exile asked.
"No room for guns down there anyway." I unlatched the door and heaved it up, anxious to get this over with. I felt like Bruce Campbell about to go down into the basement of the Evil Dead cabin.
"Take more men," Grigor suggested.
"There's barely anybody we can even bring in here," I shot back. "And we'd just be tripping over each other anyway."
"There are rumors about this place," Grigor warned. "You've seen the locks. You've heard the stories." The second part was directed at Exile, who shrugged.
"I stay here because I want to see things no one's ever seen before," he said.
"The perfect Englishman," Grigor sighed, shaking his head. "The gentleman explorer, gone before his time."
"Your confidence sustains us," I said, gesturing for him to move aside.
The old stalker pulled a sheath off his belt and held it out.
"Where did you get something like this?" I admired the workmanship.
"My father took it from the body of a German officer he shot at Stalingrad. You'll find it quite sharp."
I hefted it, and pulled the blade out a bit a check the edge. It was far and away the best knife I'd ever seen. The Reich's emblem had been neatly scratched out. That was good; I wouldn't have worn it otherwise. Maybe with this I could tease Ever a bit, if I ever saw him again. Or maybe that would be in poor taste. Yes, it would be. But I'd carry it anyway. I attached it to my belt and turned to Exile. "Come on. I've got things to do."
"Of course, Leftenant."
"If you're English, why don't you speak English right?"
"If one of us isn't speaking it correctly, it isn't me."
Actually, that sort of made sense. "Whatever."
"How long should I give you before I seal it?" Grigor asked.
"It'll take as long as it takes." I tightened my belt and glanced at the door. "But I'm in a hurry, and I've had enough of the underground for a while." Grigor snorted. I meant for this to be fast; Velvet wouldn't wait forever. This came first. As long as there was an unsecured way into the compound, no one was safe. We had no choice but to do this, and do it now. Freedom's ranks had swelled, but not so much that we could lose men without a thought. Even one more drained was too many.
Velvet's faction needed a strong start, not a troubled one. Exile handed me a flashlight, and I checked to make sure it worked, then settled the knife at my hip.
"So who goes first?" I asked, looking down at the open hatchway. I probably don't need to tell you that a hatch in the floor of one of the oldest and most storied installations in the Zone didn't look very inviting.
"You do," Exile said without hesitation. "Being Leftenant and all." He gestured. "Leading from the front, you know."
"Ah, yes. Did you know I couldn't settle on a major in college?"
"What happened?"
"I dropped out."
"Shame on you."
"I know. What did you study?"
"Art history."
"Do all spies do art history?"
"Just the bad ones. You're stalling."