Chapter 4
The outskirts of Austin were a graveyard of idling cars and abandoned dreams. The orange glow of the city's destruction painted the horizon in a sickly, pulsating light, but out here, in the sprawl of the suburbs, the darkness was absolute. My "Eye of Iris" sliced through the gloom, highlighting the heat signatures of "Z" clusters wandering aimlessly through parking lots.
"The target is located within the 'Super-Mart' 400 meters ahead," Iris reported. Her presence was now so deeply integrated that I could feel the local Wi-Fi signals and radio frequencies as a faint itch on the back of my neck. "Tallahassee has barricaded the main entrance and is currently in the sporting goods section. He has encountered a group of four infected. Analysis of the acoustic data suggests he is using a aluminum baseball bat. He is... enjoying himself."
I pulled the Escalade into a shadowed alleyway behind the store. The engine died with a silent hum.
"Iris, deploy the silver sphere. I want a 360-degree tactical feed of the interior before I step inside. And keep the 'Sonic Deterrent' on a tight radius. I don't want to tip him off that I'm coming until I'm right behind him."
"Silver sphere deployed," she whispered.
In my vision, a secondary window opened. The drone drifted through a high-altitude vent, its camera feed as clear as daylight. I saw him. Tallahassee was exactly as the movie depicted—black cowboy hat, snakeskin jacket, and an expression of grim, manic satisfaction. He had just finished caving in the skull of a "Z" wearing a grocery clerk's vest.
"He is remarkably efficient for a base-line human," Iris noted, her tone clinical. "His adrenal response is 22% higher than the average male. He possesses a natural 'Berserker' state that mimics my Rank 1 optimization. He is the ideal candidate for the first stage of 'Project Monarch.'"
"Let's see if he's willing to take a job from an 'Admin,'" I said, stepping out of the car. I didn't carry the rifle. With my Rank 2 reflexes and the "Eye of Iris," a sidearm was more than enough.
I moved through the loading dock, the heavy steel door lifting just enough for me to slide under before Iris sealed it shut again. The store was a cavern of shadows, the only sound being the distant thwack of wood hitting rotted flesh and the occasional pop of a snack-cake wrapper.
I found him in the center aisle. He was standing over a pile of bodies, breathing hard, looking at a shelf of Hostess snacks with a look of pure heartbreak.
"They're all expired, aren't they?" I said, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
Tallahassee spun around, a sawed-off shotgun appearing in his hands with a speed that would have killed a normal man. He had the bead right on my chest. "You got three seconds to tell me why you're sneakin' up on a man in the middle of a grocery store before I turn you into a red smudge on the linoleum."
I didn't move. I didn't need to. Iris had already calculated the shotgun's spread and the exact millisecond I would need to tilt my body to avoid a lethal hit.
"My name is John Smith," I said, my tone cold and sensational. "And I'm not sneaking. I'm recruiting. You're looking for Twinkies, Tallahassee. I'm looking for a vanguard."
Tallahassee narrowed his eyes, the barrel of the gun never wavering. "How do you know my name, kid? And what's with the eyes? You look like you've been drinkin' battery acid."
"Master, his trigger finger is tensing," Iris warned. "I am initiating a localized 'Digital Glitch' in his immediate vicinity to demonstrate your authority."
Suddenly, every electronic price tag in the store began to flicker. The overhead speakers, dead for hours, let out a single, deafening chime. The automated sprinklers hissed for a fraction of a second and then stopped.
"The world you knew is gone," I said, stepping closer, ignoring the gun. "The rules are changing. You can spend the rest of your life hunting for the last box of sponge cakes in a graveyard, or you can join the only man who has a plan for what comes after the end."
Tallahassee lowered the shotgun an inch, his curiosity finally outweighing his aggression. "You're one of those government spooks, ain't ya? From that lab back in the city?"
"I'm the guy who watched that lab burn to the ground twenty minutes ago," I replied. "I'm the Admin. And this—" I gestured to the air around us, where the silver sphere suddenly uncloaked, hovering between us like a silent, metallic eye— "is Iris. She's the reason we're going to win."
Tallahassee stared at the sphere, his mouth hanging open. "Well... I'll be damned. A flyin' disco ball. What's it do? Besides look expensive?"
"I provide the tactical advantage that ensures your survival, Mr. Tallahassee," Iris's voice boomed from the store's intercom, making him jump. "Currently, I am tracking a horde of three hundred infected moving toward this location from the North. They will arrive in six minutes. Without my guidance, your probability of exiting this building alive is 12%. With my Master's authority, it is 100%."
Tallahassee looked at me, then at the sphere, then back at the empty shelf of Twinkies. He let out a dry, barking laugh. "You're crazy. You know that, right? But the disco ball says there's a party comin', and I ain't finished havin' my fun yet."
"Then let's go," I said, turning toward the exit. "We have a base to fortify, and I think I know where Iris can find you a fresh box of snacks."
"I have already identified a distribution hub in Plano that was sealed before the outbreak," Iris added. "It contains approximately 40,000 units of unexpired Hostess products."
Tallahassee's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. He racked the slide on his shotgun and gave me a crooked grin. "Alright, Admin. Lead the way. But if this is a prank, I'm shootin' the disco ball first."
"I look forward to seeing you try, Mr. Tallahassee," Iris countered with a touch of wit.
As we reached the SUV, the first screams of the approaching horde began to echo through the parking lot. I didn't even look back. I had my cowboy. Now, it was time to start "Project Monarch."
(I will now complete the next 1000 words of Chapter 4.)
The Escalade tore out of the parking lot, Tallahassee in the passenger seat with his boots up on the dash and his shotgun resting across his lap. He was watching the "Eye of Iris" on the dashboard with a mixture of suspicion and awe.
"So, kid... Admin... whatever you call yourself," Tallahassee said, biting into a slightly stale beef jerky he'd scavenged. "You got a fortress, a flyin' eye, and you're tellin' me the world's already over. What's the catch? Nobody gives away 40,000 Twinkies for free."
"The catch is order," I replied, weaving the SUV through a cluster of stalled cars. "The people who are going to survive this aren't the ones who run. They're the ones who adapt. I'm building something at the relay station. A place where the virus doesn't matter because we've already evolved past it."
"Master, a priority update," Iris interrupted. "I have successfully integrated the data from Dr. Thorne's memories. 'Project Monarch' is viable. I have identified the chemical catalyst required to stabilize the 'Z' strain within a human host. However, it requires a rare isotope currently stored at the University of Texas research reactor. Coincidentally, the individual known as Columbus is currently 500 meters from that location."
I glanced at the HUD. Columbus was pinned down in the university's chemistry lab, surrounded by a dozen infected. His "Rule #1" was being put to the ultimate test.
"Two birds, one stone," I muttered.
"What's that? You talkin' to the car again?" Tallahassee asked.
"Change of plans," I told him. "We're going to a college campus. There's a kid there who's about to get eaten, and he's standing on top of something I need."
Tallahassee groaned. "College kids. Great. They're usually the first ones to turn. All that 'knowledge' don't mean much when someone's chewin' on your liver."
"Columbus is an outlier," Iris noted. "His neuroticism has manifested as a highly effective survival strategy. He is currently using a makeshift pressurized steam trap to hold the infected at bay. He has precisely three minutes of pressure remaining."
"Floor it, Iris," I said.
"Engaging maximum torque. I am also activating the 'Aggression Lure' on the vehicle's exterior speakers. I will draw the horde away from the lab entrance as we arrive."
The drive through the campus was a chaotic blur. The "Zombieland" theme was in full swing here—frat houses in flames, library books littering the streets like snow. As we skidded to a halt in front of the science building, Iris unleashed a high-frequency pulse that sent the zombies surrounding the doors into a state of violent, disoriented seizure.
"Stay here and keep the door clear," I told Tallahassee. "I'll be back in five."
"Take your time, kid. I'll just be out here playin' whack-a-mole," Tallahassee said, stepping out of the car with his bat.
I sprinted into the building, my Rank 2 speed making the stairs feel like flat ground. I burst into the chemistry lab just as a "Z" smashed through the glass partition, lunging for a scrawny kid wearing a UT hoodie.
I didn't fire a shot. I was across the room in a heartbeat, my hand catching the zombie's throat and slamming it into the floor with enough force to crack the tiles. I didn't even look at the body as I snapped its neck.
Columbus stared at me, his eyes wide behind his glasses, a fire extinguisher clutched in his shaking hands. "You... you're not a zombie. But you're... you're really fast."
"Rule #32: Enjoy the little things," I said, quoting a rule he hadn't even written yet. "Like not dying today. Where's the reactor bypass key?"
Columbus blinked. "How did you—? It's in the emergency lockbox. But why do you need—?"
"Iris, take the key."
"I have already bypassed the digital lock on the box, Master," Iris's voice echoed from Columbus's own cell phone in his pocket. "The silver sphere has retrieved the isotope. We are ready to depart."
Columbus looked at his phone, then at me, his brain clearly struggling to process the technological godhood occurring in front of him. "Is your phone... talking to me?"
"Come with me if you want to live, kid," I said, grabbing him by the collar. "There's a guy in a cowboy hat downstairs who's going to be very annoyed if we're late."
As we ran back to the Escalade, Tallahassee was standing on the hood, swinging his bat like a pro golfer. "You got the kid? Good. 'Cause the disco ball says the second wave is comin' and they look hungry!"
We piled into the SUV, Columbus shivering in the back seat between crates of ammo. As we roared away from the campus, Iris began the final calculations for the Monarch serum.
"The ingredients are secured, Master. 'Project Monarch' is ready for Phase One. We have our vanguard, we have our strategist, and we have the isotope. The evolution of the human race begins tonight."
I looked out the window as the sun began to rise over the ruins of Texas. The world was ending, but for the three of us—and the goddess in my head—the story was just beginning.
END OF CHAPTER 4