The Dead Series (Book 4): Dead End Page 6

  “That you did,” Tick-Tock told her. Turning to Steve, he said, “Mark another target for her and let her go at it. She’s got six more rounds, so let’s see if she can get six more.”

  “I know I can,” she said confidently. “This is easier than I thought.”

  “Then get to it,” Tick-Tock told her before moving on to the man standing beside her with his rifle at the ready.

  For the next two hours, the air around the mansion was filled with the sounds of gunfire.

  ***

  Steve entered his room and fell into bed with his boots still on. Coming through the door behind him, Heather said, “I don’t think so, buddy. Get those things off. We’re not barbarians.”

  Reluctantly, he sat at the edge of the bed and started untying them but stopped suddenly as a thought hit him. Looking at Heather, he asked, “Have you seen Grimm lately?”

  “Not since you went up on the roof to help Tick-Tock,” she replied. After a second, she said, “Come to think about it, I haven’t seen Thing one and Thing two for a while either.”

  “They were with Brain in the kitchen when I went down there earlier, but I haven’t seen them since. We still need to find out what Grimm’s going to do,” Steve said. “It looks like Igor is along for the ride, and she knows she can come with us, too, but the last time we brought the subject up, she said she was going to stay.”

  “We can’t let her stay,” Heather said. “When that herd coming from the east hits this place, they’ll overwhelm it.”

  “We can’t force her to come,” Steve said. After a second, he added, “And I don’t want to be the one to try it and end up with the pointy end of that scythe up my ass for my efforts.”

  “I’ll try to find her and talk some sense into her before I go on watch,” Heather said as she plopped down in a chair and removed her boots.

  “I’d like to get her input on the escape route we picked, too,” Steve said.

  Heather sighed and said, “We just spent an hour going over those maps, and I swear I’m seeing double.”

  Lying back on the bed, Steve asked, “How many of me do you see?”

  With a familiar half-smile, Heather said, “One, and that’s more than enough.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Russellville, Arkansas:

  Doctor Hawkins led Sergeant Cain into the basement of the farmhouse as he briefed him on his latest orders from Washington. “The Joint Chiefs are pleased with the latest report of the Malecton’s effectiveness and want to start mass producing it as soon as possible.”

  Cain nodded and said, “Might get a little tight in camp with all the extra people coming in to work on it. We don’t have a lot of extra space.”

  Hawkins snorted and said, “No, we won’t be staying here. In fact, we’re almost rid of this wretched place. An instrument of this importance needs to be treated in a manner befitting it, so I sent a request to Washington to have my lab moved to Virginia. I received the approval only a few minutes ago. They tell me that there’s an unused facility along the Potomac that suits my needs, so as soon as the military cleans it out, I move in. Once I’m set up, I will be furnished with everything I need to produce hundreds of Malectrons. I’ve been told that the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs sees the true impact that my device has and is pulling out all the stops.”

  “I’m sure the idea of world domination through controlling an army of the dead had a lot to do with that decision,” Cain said thoughtfully.

  Hawkins chuckled and said, “I’m sure it did, but regardless of that, I’m happy to finally be leaving Arkansas. This base and the people here served their purpose, but now that’s done.”

  “They won’t be coming with us?” Cain asked.

  Hawkins shook his head and replied, “The Chairman will provide us with a top notch security detail to protect the new facility. I will oversee production, of course, and I’ve asked that you be brought along to command the troops that will be protecting us.”

  Cain stopped in the middle of the hallway and said, “I’m honored, sir.”

  “You deserve it,” Hawkins told him. “You see the need for this device and are willing to remove anything that stands in the way of its development.”

  “Like Randal,” Cain said.

  “Some people, like Lieutenant Randal, are misguided in what is right and wrong,” Hawkins told him. “They don’t see the big picture like we do. They talk and talk about a cure for the NWHW virus, but they don’t see that controlling the dead is in our best interests rather than eradicating them.”

  Standing up straight, Cain said, “I’m willing to do whatever it takes to see this project through to the end.”

  Putting his hand on the man’s shoulder, Hawkins said, “And you proved that already. My only concern now is Major Cage and that Sergeant he’s always with. What’s his name again?”

  “Staff Sergeant Fagan,” Cain said.

  “I don’t trust them,” Hawkins said wistfully. “Even though we never proved that they were trying to undermine my research, I get the suspicion that they’re up to something.”

  Knowing where the conversation was heading, Cain thought for a moment before saying, “It would be too risky to take care of them the same way we did Randal, but there are other ways. I know someone who will help.”

  Smiling, Hawkins said, “Then I’ll leave that in your capable hands.”

  ***

  Major Jedidiah Cage motioned for the two men behind him to stop and crouch down before moving off into the brush. Staff Sergeant Fagan and Private First Class Jimmy McPherson instantly obeyed, facing outward to cover their flanks. Looking into the winter-thinned woods on both sides, neither man could see any dead approaching, but from the front they could definitely hear them.

  After a few minutes, Cage duck walked back to them and said in a quiet voice, “I can see the observation post, and it was overrun by Zs, just like we thought. Looks like they knocked it to the ground and then they swarmed it. Can’t tell how big of a group it was originally, but there’s still over one hundred of them moving around. There’s about forty or fifty more with headshots lying on the ground, so it looks like the guys in the OP put up a good fight before they were taken down.”

  Jimmy shuddered at the thought of what had happened here. Off the beaten path near the top of Mount Nebo, the observation post was manned 24/7 by two people on a rotating basis. They kept an eye on the surrounding area and warned the camp if they saw any big groups of Zs heading their way. He’d never been here, but from the stories told in the mess tent, it was one of the more dangerous duties in the camp. As isolated as the post was, if the dead spotted you before you spotted them, it would take hours for a relief force to come rescue you.

  “No survivors?” Fagan asked.

  Cage shook his head and replied, “Only two big smears of blood.”

  “So what’s the plan, sir?” the Staff Sergeant asked.

  “The platform is trashed, so we won’t be leaving anyone here to man it, but we still need to clear the dead out and retrieve whatever equipment we can,” Cage answered. “Both the people up here had noise suppressors, night vision gear and a shitload of ammo. We’re going to need those things.”

  This wasn’t the reply that Jimmy wanted to hear. He’d only gone on this mission because he wanted to scope out the area for when he made a break for it, not get into some kind of half-assed firefight with a bunch of Zs. He knew that when he eventually went AWOL, he’d have to go on foot, so he’d volunteered when he heard Fagan talking about losing contact with the OP. Going on this relief mission may be the perfect way to plan his route. Looking at a map of the area, he had decided that when he left, he would cut across Nebo before heading south to Louisiana, where he hoped to reunite with what was left of his family. He’d been pleased so far from what he’d seen. The area was pretty clear because most of the dead seemed to congregate around the camp. Once he made his break, it would only be a matter of days if he could find a vehicle, or weeks if he had to go
on foot, until he was home.

  Daydreaming about the joyous reunion he would have with his brothers and sisters, Fagan interrupted his thoughts by telling him, “McPherson, go back to the squad and tell them to hold in place, and then I want you to come back here. We’re going to need your rifle when we do this.”

  Jimmy nodded and went to do as he was ordered. When he returned, he found that both men had already secured noise suppressors to the barrels of their rifles. Crouching down next to them, he pulled his out of his pack and fumbled it for second. Regaining his grip, he started to attach it but couldn’t seem to get it to slide onto the barrel of his M16.

  After a few moments of trying, he heard Fagan say in an amused voice, “Nine out of ten rhesus test monkeys can attach a noise suppressor to their rifle on the first try.”

  Jimmy heard Major Cage give a quiet laugh at this.

  His face turning red, Jimmy said softly, “Screw you, Sarge,” to which both Cage and Fagan laughed.

  Finally getting squared away, he sat on his haunches and listened to the Major lay out their plan of attack.

  “We keep it simple,” Cage said in a whisper. “Our closest targets are only fifteen to twenty feet away from the edge of the clearing, so we’ll take them out first. We’ll form up abreast in the tree line and start with the nearest ones that are facing away from us. I want to get as many as we can before they know we’re here. These things are brain dead, but I’ve seen how they act when they realize they’re under attack. They’ll turn as a group and rush us, and I don’t want all of them coming at us at once. I really don’t feel like running all the way back to the pickup point with a bunch of Zs on my ass. Are we clear?”

  Both men nodded, so Cage said, “Follow me.”

  As they moved into position, Jimmy got his first good look at the carnage the dead had wrought on the observation post. He knew from the stories he’d heard that it was an eight foot square covered platform standing twelve feet off the ground, but to look at what was left, he never would have known it.

  Splintered six-by-six posts jutted up from the ground, broken off by some unimaginable force. The platform itself was nothing but mangled triangles of broken plywood scattered across the small clearing where it had been erected, and like Major Cage had said, of its two occupants, there was nothing but large smears of blood and small pieces of gore in two spots. A tarp was draped across some brush, torn and tattered from being dragged there by countless feet.

  Shuddering slightly at the destruction, Jimmy moved behind the tree Fagan pointed him to and raised his rifle as he focused on the dead that swarmed the area. They milled around the clearing with their heads down as they searched the dirt and weeds, looking for something to eat. As he watched, one bent down to pick up what looked like a dirt-and-bug-covered piece of intestine and shoved it into its mouth. Most of them were whining, but a few had been silenced due to the fact that they’d had their throats ripped out or their mouths and tongues were so torn up by the gnashing teeth that had originally attacked them that they could make no sound. The sight of half-clothed and fully nude bluish grey bodies brought up Jimmy’s gag reflex, but he forced it down.

  In his short tour of duty in New Orleans, he had seen many of the dead, but these had been living in buildings, so their clothing was mostly intact. The ones out in the countryside had worn their attire away to little or nothing at all. A few still had boots or shoes on, but their pants, shirts and dresses had been reduced to rags or were completely gone.

  A small stone hit him in the leg, so he turned to his left to find out what Sergeant Fagan wanted. Seeing he was holding up his forefinger, middle finger and ring finger, Jimmy knew that the countdown to the slaughter was about to begin.

  First, Fagan’s forefinger dropped, then his ring finger. With a smile, the Staff Sergeant flipped him the bird before dropping it and turning to sight down his rifle.

  Jimmy did the same and found his first target, a young girl with the vestiges of a yellow scarf still hanging around her neck. Squeezing the trigger on his silenced rifle, he heard a click of the firing pin striking the bullet, followed immediately by what sounded like a muffled cough.

  The girl’s head erupted in a blossom of black pus, bone and hair as the bullet hit home. Knowing it was a kill without having to watch the body hit the forest floor, he turned and sighted in on the next, closest Z that was facing away from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see dead bodies drop from Cage and Fagan’s fire as countless times he switched his aim, stroked the trigger and watched a head explode before moving on to his next target. Expecting to be discovered quickly and rushed by the dead, Jimmy was surprised when he stopped to reload and saw that they had decimated at least half the Zs in the clearing without their knowing what was going on.

  Sighting in, he started firing again. With each shot, his excitement rose at the thought of discovery. Just when he felt like the turkey shoot would go on like this for eternity, he heard Major Cage break the stillness of the forest by calling out, “Fresh magazines, line abreast. Advance through the clearing.”

  Ejecting his almost full clip, Jimmy slipped in a fully loaded one, let the bolt slam forward, and rose from his firing position to line up ten feet to the left of Staff Sergeant Fagan. He could see that the dead were well aware of their presence now and were heading toward them in a loping run.

  Cage called out, “Advance,” so Jimmy stepped off as he sighted in on the head of the first Z rushing toward them. Without thinking, he walked forward as he pulled the trigger repeatedly, watching as heads snapped back from the impact of his bullets. He could see that there were only twenty or more Zs charging them, and the three of them made quick work of sending them back to hell. When the last of the dead fell, there was no need for the order to cease fire. All three men could see that they were the only thing, living or dead, still standing in the clearing.

  “Go back and get the rest of the squad,” Fagan ordered as he pulled a noise-suppressed hi-standard pistol from its holster and joined Major Cage in finishing off any of the dead that were still moving. They had gotten the ones that were on their feet, but some of them that were missing legs or were too torn up to stand upright were still crawling across the forest floor toward them.

  Excited by the slaughter of the dead, Jimmy almost ran back to where the other men were waiting. When he returned to the clearing, he found that Cage and Fagan had finished off the last of the Zs and had already scrounged a small pile of equipment. After motioning for Jimmy and the men in the squad to take over, Cage and Fagan walked a short distance away, where they could talk without being overheard.

  This being the first time that they could speak freely since receiving their orders to relieve the people manning the observation post, both men started to talk at once. While Cage asked out loud why the Staff Sergeant thought he had been specifically ordered to lead the squad on a simple rescue and recovery mission, Fagan was asking the same thing.

  Fagan motioned for his superior to talk first, and Cage said, “So what gives? I was shocked as shit when Hawkins’ little do-boy, Sergeant Cain, came and told me that I had been ordered to lead this little soiree.”

  Fagan shook his head and replied, “I was as shocked as you, sir. My only guess is they want you out of the way today.”

  “That’s what I was thinking, too,” Cage said before asking, “but for what? And they even got a full-bird Colonel out of Hood to sign the order. It doesn’t make sense because if they really wanted me out of the way; all they’d have to do is get one of the higher-ups to cut my orders to one of the Dead Cities and be done with it.”

  “But it’s different for higher ranking officers, sir,” Fagan told him. “If you’re enlisted, they say go and you go, but for anyone over a Captain in rank to be sent into the shit, they would have to be a real fuck up. Word would get around as soon as you reported in, and questions would be asked. You have to remember, the officers’ corps has been chewed up pretty badly, but the good old boy network i
s still intact. If they just up and sent you to Orleans or Minneapolis without a good reason, it would stir up a lot of shit.”

  Looking down at the oak leaf cluster on his collar, Major Cage said, “You’re right, I forget sometimes that I’m not just a Lieutenant that can be shuffled around like so much meat.”

  Fagan nodded and said, “My guess is that they don’t want you out of the camp for just today, sir. There was nothing going on at the farmhouse, and the only incoming air traffic was the resupply chopper, and they came and went before Cain even showed up with your orders. I think it all goes back to us interfering with Hawkins tests.”

  “So what gives then?” Cage asked.

  Pointing to the carnage around them, Fagan replied, “Maybe since they can’t openly get rid of you, they’re sending you out to try and get you killed.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Happy Hallow Insane Asylum:

  Steve Wendell cocked his head to one side. He was sure that he heard music, but the sound was so distant that he wasn’t sure if he was imagining it. Wondering if he was hallucinating, he dug his finger in his ear and wiggled it around vigorously. It took him a few seconds to figure out what he was hearing, but then he realized that he hadn’t lost his mind, but was hearing Anna Nalick singing “Breathe.”

  Walking down the second floor hallway, he followed the music until he came to a door near the radio room. A capital ‘A’ inside a circle with a line through it had been spray painted across its face. He paused for a moment before knocking softly.

  The music cut off abruptly before a voice called out roughly, “Who is it?”

  “It’s Steve.”

  After a moment, the voice said, “Advance and be recognized.”

  Smiling at the familiar sound of Grimm’s voice, he pushed down on the lever and let the door swing open on its hinges. Expecting to see the imposing figure of death greeting him, he stopped at the threshold at what he saw. Instead of finding Grimm in full regalia, he found her naked from the waist up.