The zombie lurched for Faye, but her legs really had been fused to the floor from sitting for so long, so it took her a second to tear free. Like most of the undead Faye had seen so far, this one was weathered, all dry and shrunken, and naked, clothing long since rotted off, and too crazy or in too much pain to care about dressing proper. There was a great ripping noise, a bunch of leathery leg and butt jerky was left on the floor, and then the zombie was coming right at Faye.
She had already picked her next stop. “Sorry to wake you, ma’am,” and then Faye stepped off the ledge and Traveled safely away.
Faye was really thankful for her particular abilities right about then. She’d been blessed to be a Traveler, as it really was the best kind of magic ever. When she’d first started meeting other types of Actives as she’d sought out the Grimnoir, she’d been a little jealous of the other’s seemingly more useful abilities, like super strength or healing or controlling animals. But now Faye knew that she was the lucky one. Nobody else would be able to get around Dead City in one piece… Not that she could imagine anybody ever wanting to.
So many walls had fallen over that it had created a maze where the streets had been, and in some spots it was hard to tell where the streets ended and the sewers which had been beneath began. It wasn’t like the roads were level anymore, with big piles of spilled brick like the buildings had puked their guts up before they’d died.
There was lots of graffiti at ground level. It looked angry, but it was all in German, so she couldn’t read it. None of the graffiti was new, though. So the dead had probably done that sort of thing at first to pass the time before they’d either given up or run out of paint.
It was in one of those tunnels created by fallen walls that somebody answered her calls. The response had gotten her hopes up, only it turned out to only be another undead having a brief moment of coherence, and though she didn’t speak the language, she’d thought the dead man was asking if she were his daughter, but then he’d lost his mind again and tried to eat her.
The sun was getting high. Hours had passed, and she was getting tired, hungry, and thirsty. Dead City was huge. All of these years that she’d heard about the destruction of Berlin, she’d never realized just how dang big it was. She had Traveled two hundred and eighty-seven times since she’d started her search, and she hadn’t even scratched the surface. Her Power was still burning bright, but her body was getting worn out.
She stopped in what had probably been a park to eat her lunch. The bench was lopsided, the trees were barren sticks coming out of the ground, the stream was dry, and the bridge that had crossed it was now just a big pile of rocks, but at least it was in the open so she could see in every direction long enough to eat the chicken sandwich she’d packed.
She supposed there had been a lot of lakes around Berlin, because when it had all gotten broken, the lakes had come spilling back in. There was water everywhere, but most of it was cloudly with muck, and she’d seen a few zombies floating all bloated and soft like, or bits of people sticking out of the muck, so she’d be darned if she was gonna drink any Dead City water. It made her glad she’d brought a canteen.
It was nice to take a minute to relax, and then she realized that there was a severed head stuck in the branches of a nearby tree. Like every other plant she’s seen in the city, this tree was all blasted, black, ashy, and dead, and for once the random body part seemed equally still. “How’d you get up there?” she asked the head, but when she did, the eyes opened and it started hissing at her. The noise must have drawn attention, because within thirty seconds there were answering moans and shrieks from all around the park. Company was coming. “Thanks a lot, jerk.” Faye stuffed the rest of her sandwich in her mouth and took a swig of water so it wasn’t so dry that she’d choke—now that would be an ironic way to die while in Dead City—and she Traveled to her next selected destination.
How had Heinrich survived here for so long? She gained new respect for her friend as she walked the broken rooftops. Occasionally she found evidence of other mortals who had tried to enter Dead City, but usually only bits and pieces of them. Jacques had told her about foolish treasure hunters, so she figured the half-eaten man she found with a shovel, burlap sack full of jewelry, antiques and a Mauser pistol had been one of those. The C96 was all dried out and could use a good cleaning, but she kept the pistol anyway. She had her Browning .45 hidden beneath her shirt, but a spare gun never hurt.
One hour of time and forty Travels later, Faye had her first stroke of luck. Not only was this dead man mostly sane, he was rather polite, helpful, and even well dressed.
“Hello?” Faye crept across the broken floor tile, darting between the beams of sunlight sneaking through the boarded-up window slats. She’d learned the hard way in the last apartment building that sometimes the zombies could be wedged into the ceilings too. That one had nearly pulled her hair. “Anybody home?”
“Hallo. Wer ist da?”
“Sorry to bug you.” Faye peeked around the crumbling brick corner. There was a tall, thin shape standing in the back of the next room. His stance was wary, not all hunched over and dragging like most dead folks she’d met. “My name is Faye. Do you speak English?”
There was a long pause. “Yes… Forgive me. I do not often receive visitors. Come in.”
What luck! He didn’t immediately try to eat her face and he spoke English!
It was dark inside, but her grey eyes could see just fine. He was dead all right, bug-eyed, skin all dried out and cracked-open scabby, but despite that he was dressed in a very snazzy army uniform, and his chest was covered in ribbons and medals and gold braids leading up to big golden things on his shoulders which looked like they should be used for cleaning boots, and speaking of boots, his went up to his knees and were so polished and shiny that if there was sunshine they would probably be blinding. He was even wearing a sword, and it was one of the only metal things she’d seen in town that wasn’t rusty. On the table next to him was a bottle, which had been empty since Faye had been a little girl, and a weird German helmet with a spike on top of it. The helmet was darn near as sparkly as the boots. “I was getting ready for the parade.”
Apparently there were different kinds of zombie crazy.
“I’m Faye. What’s your name?”
“Field Marshal…” His voice was a hissing wheeze. The zombie tilted his head to the side. “I do not remember… What are you doing in my study? American, no? Have you brought the new draft of the armistice treaty? Are you with Pershing’s expeditionary unit?”
In a sense, yes, her and Mr. black Jack went way back, but she didn’t want to complicate matters. “I’m not in the army or nothing. I’m here looking for somebody. Maybe you can give me directions?”
The zombie general, or whatever he was, gave her a bow with a flourish. His bones creaked ominously. “Of course, young lady. How may I be of assistance?”
“I’m looking for a man who lives around here somewhere. His name is Zachary.”
“Zachary, you say? I do not know this man, I think… Did you see my medals? How they gleam?”