“What a mess,” Alexander said. He lifted the lid on the green case and drew out what looked like a sawed-off shotgun. He broke it open and cocked the hammer at the back, then slid in a single round that looked like the Bluebird juice cans Jenny used to drink in elementary school. He snapped the gun closed.
“That's a big bullet,” Jenny said.
“That's because it's a grenade,” Alexander said. He flipped up the sight and took aim at the helicopter below. There was a hollow popping sound that reminded Jenny of blowing air across a glass Coke bottle. The grenade punched the ground in front of the helicopter and detonated, throwing up a huge cloud of dirt.
The invaders hit the ground at the explosion. Alexander broke the grenade launcher open and handed it to Jenny. “Reload.”
“Um...okay.” Jenny copied what he had done, taking one of the cylindrical grenades and feeding it in. She cocked the hammer back and closed the breech.
While she did this, Alexander pointed to the dilapidated building again. A second string of zombies grabbed up the AK-47s and fired at the invaders. The rest of the zombies, seven or eight of them, charged the helicopter, unarmed.
Alexander fired another grenade at the helicopter, and this one struck the whirling blades at the top. The helicopter blades shattered and shot out in every direction. One fragment sliced an approaching zombie in half. Another skewered one of the invading men.
Jenny watched as one big chunk of blade sped towards them. “Watch out!” she screamed, grabbing his arm. They dropped to the floor together. The helicopter blade skipped off the low outer wall of the terrace, then smashed through Alexander's bedroom window.
“That was pretty cool,” Jenny said.
Alexander reloaded the grenade launcher, and this time he aimed for a pair of black-armored men. The grenade struck the ground between them, blasting the two men away from each other. They landed heavily on the ground. The two zombie jaguars leaped out of the shadows, pounced on the two blasted men, and began ripping them to pieces.
“It's fun to be a grenadier,” Alexander said. He held out the launcher to her. “Want to try?”
“Sure.” Jenny reloaded the weapon, then got up on her knees and looked over the wall. She lined up the helicopter in her crosshairs.
The zombies swarmed the helicopter like ants on a rotten squirrel. They hauled out another black-armored man and chomped on his throat, which the bulletproof armor left bare.
“Get moving, Manuel,” Alexander said into his walkie-talkie. “Clean up.”
Below, Manuel and his men opened fire on the few remaining invaders, who found themselves under fire from two directions, the house and the lurching knot of armed zombies.
“Are you going to shoot?” he asked.
“If it's not Toscano, who the hell is it?” Jenny asked. “The government?”
“Does it matter right now?”
Manuel and his men walked among the fallen invaders, shooting the wounded.
“Manuel, the helicopter,” Alexander said. “See if we can get a prisoner or two. Find out who these people are.”
Manuel's team advanced on the helicopter. The zombies stumbled out, clearing the way for them, and then Manuel and two other men stepped inside.
They hauled out another man in a black helmet and matching armor. Manuel stripped off their captive's helmet, revealing a young man with strawberry blond hair. Manuel turned him to face Alexander and Jenny on the terrace.
It was Seth.
“The healer,” Alexander said. “He's the one behind the attack.”
“That asshole,” Jenny said.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Jenny followed Alexander down to an underground room below the main house. Seth was there, stripped of his helmet and gloves and armor, his face beaten but already healing. He wore only black fatigues now, and he was barefoot. His hands were bound by ropes, each of which was anchored in a hook in the wall, so that he had to remain standing.
A folding table had been set up in front of him. On its surface were several blades and a hacksaw.
Seth's head lifted when Jenny entered, and he managed to smile. “Jenny.”
Jenny looked at him coldly. Alexander had given her the task of dealing with Seth, and now he stood back with Manuel and two of the Tijuana gunmen, while Jenny approached the prisoner.
“What were you thinking, Seth?” Jenny asked. “That you could come and take me at gunpoint? You didn't think we would fight back?”
“I thought you were kidnapped,” Seth said.
Jenny laughed. “As if anybody could force me to act against my will.”
Seth gave her a puzzled look. “Are you feeling okay, Jenny?”
“I'm not feeling okay. I'm feeling great.” Jenny wiped her nose—she'd just snorted up two thick lines of coke to get herself ready. “Top of the fucking world, Seth. But, you know, I have just a few questions for you, before I kill you.”