Carl reacted first, his hand moving to his rifle.

  "How many?"

  "No more than six, maybe seven. They're moving quietly, trying not to be noticed."

  David frowned, concentrating on the faint impressions his spirits were sending back. Unlike zombies, which broadcast their presence through the Nath's constant murmuring, these presences barely registered. Even mutants or other system users gave off distinctive ‘sounds’ that his spirits detected. These were quiet, blending in with the background.

  “It’s almost like they are hiding from my senses…”

  Charlie's casual demeanor evaporated.

  "Mutants can be stealthy, right? Like that runner thing?"

  "Yeah, not like this. They still sound the same just quieter," David said, still focusing on the distant sensations.

  "These feel... I don't know. Quieter. More like they are blending with the background."

  Camila was already moving, her tactical vest making her look far more professional than she had just days ago.

  "Everyone spread out. Fire teams, get ready. Casters, hold unless we give the word."

  The raiders responded with reasonable efficiency, though David noted the nervous energy rippling through the group. Fighting zombies had become almost routine.

  Unknown contacts were something else entirely, and he was sure everyone was thinking of the grisly territory they had found.

  Mark positioned himself near the center, his pair of healers nearby even as Katie stood beside him, acting as his buddy in their still embryonic system.

  "They're getting closer," David warned, his eyes distant.

  "Still moving carefully. I think they're hiding and peeking before they move, like lions stalking prey."

  Carl's southern drawl was barely audible. "Y'all see anything?"

  David pointed toward the gates leading to the baggage reclaim area.

  "Coming from that direction. We need to advance to meet them in the customs hall or baggage area, I want to set up somewhere that we have cover”

  The tension stretched as the raiders moved forwards. It was the work of a minute to pry open the doors that obscured the baggage area. Then they were moving in and passing the customs posts to reach the carousels.

  With no power the hall was dark and oppressive, and David gestured for people to kill their light.

  “I can sense them, still moving towards us. I don’t think they can sense us so spread out and kill your lights but be ready to turn them on. Let’s not give up the element of surprise.”

  People spread out, taking up positions crouched behind abandoned suitcases and still silent baggage reclaims. Every raider was watching the indicated corridor, leading deeper where they expected the newcomers to emerge.

  Weapons ready, crouched down in the shadows on either side of the doors leading to the outside the dim filtered light coming through. The only other light coming from a couple of spots where small windows high on an exterior wall let in a shaft of light.

  David could hear ragged breathing around him, the creak of tactical gear, the subtle shuffle of feet seeking better positions.

  Then movement caught his eye. A shadow distorted as something crouched at the edge of the open area carefully scanning the area, followed by another.

  It was impossible to say what was crouching there in the dim light, but they could be human, or formerly human…

  Then They heard a soft scrape, something scuffing on the hard concrete floor, a hissed muffled sound. Then silence.

  Everyone was listening. After perhaps thirty seconds there was more movement and one of the figures, keeping low, began to detach from the cover they had been using, they were low and lumpy in the dim light scuttling towards the partial cover of the nearest baggage carousel.

  “Now” David’s call was sharp sudden, and it caused a flood of light as people turned on torches and illuminated the dark space.

  Silhouettes suddenly became harshly light people, crouched moving low and slow. Armed people clutching handguns which they now desperately pointed at the bright lights blinding them, clearly expecting danger.

  "Hold fire," Carl commanded. "Those are people, hold fire!”

  The people stopped, tense and surprised. Then the one who was out in the open shouted even as he raised his hands.

  "Don't shoot! We're not infected!"

  He was youngish, authoritative despite the circumstances.

  David caught details as the man moved into better light. Mid-thirties, vaguely Hispanic features, wearing a CBP uniform complete with tactical vest and sidearm.

  "Thank God!" the man continued, his voice steady but strained.

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  "We’re airport employees. We've been sheltering in place since this started."

  Camila took point, her Spanish accent stronger with stress.

  "How many of you?"

  "Seven here. More back in a secure staff area, many of them passengers."

  The man took another careful step forward, his hands still raised.

  "I'm Harrison Cooper, CBP officer. We heard gunfire. Thought you might be military or emergency response. So we came to check."

  "We're not military. We are survivors from the safe zone. Do you know about that?"

  Camila paused, clearly unsure how to deal with the changes in the world. Then she continued.

  "We came to clear the airport and rescue anyone still alive."

  Harrison's expression shifted, something between relief and disbelief.

  "You're civilians? You did all that? Where did you get the guns? Hey! Those are our vests!"

  "Not exactly civilians anymore," Charlie muttered from somewhere behind David.

  David stepped forward, his mind working overtime to understand the situation. Cooper was armed but hadn't threatened them as soon as he knew they were not zombies, infected implied he thought there was zombie plague.

  The rest of the group, six people in various airport uniforms, looked exhausted and terrified but not hostile.

  "Lower your weapons," David said quietly to the raiders. "Let them approach."

  Carl hesitated, then nodded.

  "Alright folks, easy does it. But stay ready."

  As the weapons lowered, Harrison visibly relaxed. The group behind him began moving forward as well, their relief palpable. David counted them quickly. Two TSA agents still in their distinctive blue shirts, three people in generic airport employee uniforms, and one woman in what looked like airline staff attire.

  "Madre de Dios," Camila breathed. "You've been hiding this whole time?"

  "Trying to survive," Harrison said simply. He gestured back toward the corridor.

  "We have more people, maybe forty or fifty awake and more waking every hour. We were lucky,” here he vaguely gestured to the group behind him “we woke up and saw the dead rising…” here he stopped and shuddered.

  “We hid from them, tried to help the people who were asleep and threw the dead out on the tarmac.”

  Now he was looking firm, almost angry as he prepared to defend his decision.

  “It was all Dawn of the Dead, or worse. So, we barricaded ourselves in the SIDA zone.”

  The acronym didn’t mean anything to David, but he let the man continue.

  “We kept sneaking out to get supplies and see if we could rescue people. It was terrifying but kind of fun, like playing a silent hill game, until yesterday.”

  Katie pushed forward, her mothering instincts driving the conversation away from tactical caution.

  "Are they hurt? Do they need healing?"

  "No injuries, some hungry people. We didn’t have the supplies as people woke up, well except for water, which is part of why we tried to get out.”

  Harrison looked around at the raiders, clearly reassessing. Even as he did Katie was going round collecting snacks and drinks to hand out. Then he continued his story.

  "Yesterday was bad. First, the zombies started behaving strangely, less wandering and more trying to open doors and get into spaces. Everyone hunkered down and we stopped trying to reach anyone.

  Then we thought we heard gunfire in the distance, only when we looked there were still zombies around and it stopped. After a while they went crazy and were rushing around everywhere, so we kept hiding.

  Today we hear a lot of gunfire, and its closer. So we start to hope, you know.

  Did you really clear all those zombies? Without getting bitten?

  We had to know so we risked leaving to check when we didn’t see anything after a while."

  "We baited them out," David explained. "Used their instincts against them. It's effective if you have enough people and firepower. Hang on why are you worried about getting bitten, they really don’t bite – strictly slams and raking with nails like they remember having real claws"

  Harrison looked at him funny. "No disrespect, everyone knows that zombies are infectious and being bitten is bad. Like what did you actually watch before? You must know that’s one of the big risks…”

  David burst out laughing as he saw what was going on, Charlie was looking vindicated and everyone else resigned.

  “Harrison, let me guess you enjoyed watching a lot of TV and movies growing up?”

  Now the CBP agent sounded upset. “Just because Mama had a crush on Harrison Ford and said if she couldn’t pick a proper name for me, she would call me that…”

  It was clear there was history there and as David’s brain caught up, he guessed that crush had not been in any way secret. He realized that was something you got this defensive about over years of teasing.

  Carl cut to the chase realizing that all the new people were hiding real fear.

  “Look, y’all need to understand something right off the bat. We KNOW what makes them zombies tick. They are like alien spirits that possess dead bodies, and no they don’t transmit by bite.”

  The look of relief on their faces was almost immediately replaced by skepticism.

  One cynically muttered “Of course, that’s what you always hear before you get shoved in a camp that gets infested.”

  Charlie spoke up at that point “Dude! Chill, look don’t you want to get your quest done and get to the Beacon, get your system going properly?”

  Now Harrison just looked puzzled. Then his expression cleared.

  “Oh, yeah some of the people who woke up were talking about going into the light and patterns and weird text boxes. Is that real? We sort of assumed that a few days without food and water had made them loopy.”

  Even as Mark and Katie started talking to them and urging them to lead the team back to their hiding spot Charlie and Carl turned to David.

  “It’s like the army guys, those dudes didn’t get the messages.”

  Carl added “Some of them mentioned their comrades who did. So yeah.”

  David nodded. “I really want to get a map and start putting marks on it. I think we are hitting one of the points where the influence of the Obelisk is dropping off. Given my access that could be really important.”

  By the time they finished their brief sidebar it seemed as though some decisions had been taken.

  Mark was talking, his deep voice cutting through the other voices and carrying the conversation.

  "….should get to your survivors. Check on their condition, see what they need."

  "They'll be glad to see you." Harrison turned, gesturing for his people to lead the way.

  "Wait one, how many are there, we need to load up with at least drink and snacks – I’ll take a couple of radio groups to our trucks if they need food badly.”

  Katie was ever practical.

  “People were waking up fast when we left, so probably over a hundred. Water we have but food…”

  Harrison was holding, not eating the snacks he had been given.

  “Look, there are some kids so if you’re short, we can wait…”

  “Yeah," Carl said quietly. "Food might be a problem in the future but for now we can swing something for all your people."

  Then he raised his voice.

  “You hear that you reprobates? There are hungry kids with the group we are going to meet so no chowing on snacks you could share unless you want my boot shoved up your ass. Though, if you’re really lucky I won’t tell Katie what you did…”

  Katie looked extremely fierce as she spoke.

  “Carl, I’m standing right here. It’s hardly a secret.”

  “Yup, but you will be off getting more substantial food. I’m sure nobody would want to disappoint you by eating something we could give to starving kids…”

  With that the group began moving deeper into the arrivals area, then with the help of a key Harrison was carrying into the secure area.

  Despite the almost joking way that Carl had spoken the raiders all seemed to be acutely aware that they had been enjoying a break with significant food, and ample meals, if with sketchy ingredient choices, so holding off to have something to give to if not starving very hungry kids was a no brainer.

  Embarrassment at their good fortune wasn’t quite right, there was more of a determination to help, albeit tainted with guilt.

  Still, they were moving and getting people help was what had motivated people to initially join the raiders.