by Eric Gene
Patting his subordinate on the back, he barked at his men to climb out of the trench,
"stop being sissies" he told them.
Glancing around, he noted the few laborers who had volunteered, and smiled.
"Guess we have new recruits" he said out loud to the group. The laborers numbering up to six looked at one another confused. Unlike Jason who had no idea what that meant, those who had been in the haven long enough knew that it was a promotion. No more field work, and that definitely meant better treatment and accommodation.
"Well, don't look surprised, you've earned it" the Head Captain said, patting the closest laborer on the back.
The team made its way back to the outpost, flanking the Head Captain and his survivors. As they marched through the pile, their silence was suddenly interrupted by the shot of a gun. One of the survivors had pulled the trigger out of fright, one of the gunned zombies had suddenly grabbed his feet with its hand, catching the soldier by surprise. He had acted on reflex, but at a greater cost.
The whole team froze as they listened for sounds. Jason picked up on the rumble.
Although it was faint, the team felt the ground rumble and a few snaps in the distance.
"Run" the Head Captain barked as they saw a few silhouettes racing through the trees.
The soldiers wasted no time in breaking into a full retreat while the archers aimed farther away from them. The floodlights had been repositioned, and as their glow shone upon the distance, the team's Captain noted with horror the mass of living dead racing towards them. It was another horde.
~~~
In the quest for power, trust is a luxury that cannot be afforded. Mr. Reagan realizing that he was no closer to winning over the rest of the cult, resorted to taking Mao out of the picture. He hated the Chinese man's guts, and it made it worse seeing that his ideas were genuine.
"Are you sure you'll be able to pull this off?" he queried a staunch looking man dressed in a suit. His eyes were covered by black goggles while one of his ears housed a black earphone with a slight mic extension.
"I'll have my men trail him until you give the go ahead" the stern faced man replied. Mr. Reagan was reclining into an office chair as the two spoke.
"Good, I don't want it traced to me, do you understand? Give me a clean job and you'll have the money wired to your account" he told the man who nodded curtly before stepping out of the dimly lit office.
Although they were all in on the plot for world domination, Mr. Reagan knew that everyone nursed an ambition to lord over every other person. While he had a fairly friendly relationship with the old lioness Marjorie Sanders, Mr. Mao had the backing of Miss Lee who was the third most powerful in their cult, and also the backing of Dimitri the Russian powerhouse. The rest of the cult as he knew, were only interested in the plot so long as Mr. Mao was forthcoming. They trusted Mr. Mao to deliver on his plans, and that was a trust he hoped to shake to its core.
Politics just like a game of cards required wit and most times deceit. At times it went beyond fair play to lethal schemes, and he Mr. Reagan had his schemes.
For the greater part of the plotting to take over the world, he had had Mr. Mao bugged to extract firsthand information on the progress of the virus. But that had proved worthless after his agents reported that the bugs had been compromised.
Although the duo had been maintaining their smiles towards one another, Mr. Reagan's continued hunt for a loophole only increased the tension between them. But Mr. Mao simply acted as though he was oblivious of Mr. Reagan's scheming, and that ate him up the more. There was nothing worse than ignoring an enemy who overestimated himself.
True to their task, Mr. Reagan's agents maintained their surveillance over Mr. Mao, and reported back to their boss. Their ultimate goal was to eliminate him, and that would either be by planning his death or extracting all the relevant information on the virus project before wiping it clear with a software virus.
Mr. Reagan knew that if Mr. Mao should lose all his research or face a worse glitch in his plans, that would result in the cult dismissing him. Hence, he made the extraction of the research files top priority.
But Mr. Mao wasn't letting them in easily. With each report of failed access into the lab's database, it felt as though Mr. Mao was paying close attention to the lab's network. It was as though the security system was continually updated to fix up any potential loophole.
All in all, it had been mostly a battle of technical experts loyal to their bosses, and Mr. Reagan was running out of time.
~~~
The archers fell into a frenzy as they desperately tried to cover the team that was in full retreat. It felt as though the zombies had been waiting in the shadows all along for the right moment. When the sound of the gun rent into the silence of the night, they poured in from all angles.
Jason who had been maintaining a low profile since his arrival into the haven switched at that moment to his lethal zombie slaying mode. While the others ran, he relaxed into the rear swinging his sword gracefully.
With each swing, a zombie fell. It was either a head or a limb, but the victim's movement was definitely halted.
Dodging, swinging and running at the same time, the captains watched Jason from the corner of their eye as he took down the zombies like an experienced slayer. They were also occupied in their own fight, and watched in confusion at the one man army who took the rear compared to their frightened soldiers who could hardly fend off five zombies at once.
"Who the hell is he?" the Head Captain queried above the noise of the battle. His subordinate who was fighting by his side, shook his head in response moments before ducking to avoid a zombie. It flew over him, landing a few feet from the Head Captain who wasted no time in stabbing it right through its decaying head.
Steadily, the team made its way back into the outpost with only a few inches spacing them away from the horde. Jason had been the last to jump in before the first gates were slammed shut. Once they'd settled into the safety of the haven, the Head Captain wasted no time in barking orders to the soldiers he could find.
"Get those buckets over here and light these bastards up!" he bellowed towards a group of soldiers standing by. Hurriedly they rushed off to one of the outpost's tents housing boxes of weapons. There were large drums of oil sitting a little way from the boxes. Buckets that had been stacked beside the drums were promptly filled with oil and delivered up to the archers' platform where they emptied the content down on the horde that pressed hard against the gates.
The soldiers continued their spilling of the oil over the edges of the Haven's walls while the archers busied themselves with taking down as many as they could before the Captain could give his final order.
"Light them up!" he thundered from his position once he got word that the zombies had been marked with oil. In response, the archers dipped the tips of their arrows into the buckets of oil before setting them ablaze.
Once lit, they sent a hail of blazing arrows down towards the horde beneath them. It resulted in a sudden leap of flames as the zombies caught fire.
Little by little, the zombies crumbled into a pile of burning bodies that scorched the Haven's thick wooden gates. The Head Captain watched in silence as the flames flickered outside the gates. His call had been one of urgency over cost.
While the gates could withstand the flames, their strength would definitely be compromised. But that, he hoped wasn't going to be much of a problem since they had an extra iron gate to supplement the two sturdy gates. This would buy them time until the main gates were fixed.
"I know... I'll deal with it later" he told his subordinate that had come to whisper a message to his ear. The Commander had already heard the news of the hordes and was calling for an immediate appearance.
"Listen up" he barked after he'd spent ample time watching the flames die out.
"I want every soldier to stay awake and stay alert... The gates have been compromised, and you know what's out there waiting" he said,
&nbs
p; "They may look dead, but they aren't dead.. And they may look stupid, but like I say, never underestimate an enemy"
"You've heard the rumors about other havens broken into... So don't think for a moment that you'll be sleeping tonight soldier!"
"Prepare yourselves" he spat, "it's going to be a long night".
"Meanwhile I want you to keep and eye on the soldier who took the rear... I'll look into him by morning" he muttered to his subordinate, glancing briefly at Jason who was seated in a corner with the rest of the team.
Jason knew that his cover in the haven had been blown by his action outside. Ben's team had been occupied with moving the injured, but Jason knew it was mostly gimmicks. Those who were injured were never left to survive, it was a risk no haven willed to take.
While he waited for Ben to finish his rounds of checking the soldiers that had been brought in, his mind trailed off to his days back at Haven 12. Although he claimed he hadn't been a part of the soldiers, he had been one of the top fighters who always enlisted in the strike team. Those had been good times with Scott and the others, going off on zombie raids together, and he'd always been touted as a monster when it came to taking down the monsters. He was an entirely different person whenever it was time to fight. Although the soldiers had respected his skills with praises, he had divulged his pain to Scott over a drink.
The loss of his wife and son haunted him each day, and he only felt relief whenever he took the life of a zombie. That had been his inspiration for being a free ranger, there was no restriction as to how he could fight nor how many he could put out of existence.
He had once had a run in with the Haven's Commander when he took out two zombies that had been brought in for testing. He felt something come over him that resulted into him knocking out the soldiers that had bundled in the zombies. Once he had taken down the soldiers, Scott told him of how he wrestled both zombies, snapping their neck in the process. No one had ever seen such a feat, but the Commander was hardly concerned about his prowess. He had killed assets to the Haven's research and that had consequences.
Jason was stripped of his ranks to manning surveillance at the Haven's outpost. There was no more action for him until the infestation.
A few nights before the infestation, Scott mentioned something about Jason potentially being infected. Perhaps the fight with his wife had left him infected, but his body had grown a level of immunity, he had theorized. That seemed to explain why he fought with blind rage whenever he was faced with a zombie.
Now in Haven 20, he had switched into his berserker mode, and it had only been a matter of self will coupled with the shouts of retreat, that he had forced himself out of the fight.
His cover had been blown, and even as he watched the Captains converse in the distance, he knew it was only a matter of time before they came for him.
"Prepare... We leave tonight" he said with a sigh. Ben had just settled down beside him, and from the horrified look on his face, he wasn't sure if Jason was planning on suicide or just playing pranks.
Chapter 5
Escape Plan
"What do you mean tonight?" Ben queried, his voice had been raised unwittingly. Jason promptly covered his mouth while glancing around to be sure nobody heard.
Satisfied that every soldier in sight was either to tired to listen to their conversation, or totally out of hearing range, he took his hand off Ben's mouth. The fat man looked slightly mortified, more from his lack of wit, than the surprise that had come with Jason covering his mouth.
"We'll wait till it's a little darker before we move" Jason said quietly,
"This is our best chance, and I'm not missing it"
"But you just saw what happened... It's crawling with birdies out there" Ben exclaimed in hushed tones, his hands were flexed vigorously.
"I know... We only need to make it past the trenches and then we make camp for the night" Jason said, his voice remained calm. But Ben could not believe his ears.
"I may not have the skills but this is suicidal, even for you" Ben quipped. He had only had to deal with zombies during the infestation of his own haven, and that was too much of an experience to repeat. As he sat with Jason, vehemently trying to shake him off his plan, Jason noted the fear in his voice and his eyes. Whatever had happened back at the infestation that took over his own haven, it surely was more than what Ben had told him.
But Jason wasn't keen on finding out just yet.
"Listen" he said, "in case you haven't noticed, I'm supposed to be an unskilled laborer in this haven, not a zombie killer."
"I noticed the quiet conversation between the captains, and I'm not willing to wait and find out about their suspicion. My cover is blown, and from the talks I've heard about the Commander, I won't risk staying one more night" he explained.
"But why did you even had to volunteer? We could have just stayed put and let them do their thing" Ben queried, to which Jason sighed and said "you knew that was Plan A"
"That's why you also chose to volunteer. But guess what, it didn't work"
Ben made to retort, but he came up with nothing. Jason was right about the first plan. They were both caught up in the first battle with the horde that they could hardly double back into the haven to plan their next line of action. Dr. Maurice was also a part of the plan, and they were yet to bring him on board.
"So what's your plan for the doctor?" Ben finally said. Jason let out a sigh at that moment, he hadn't figured out how he was going to bring in the doctor. Although the notes should be easily understood by another scientist, he wasn't certain about the research team at Haven 13.
"We'll make do without him" Jason finally said. It was too risky to get the doctor on board, and he wasn't sure about the survival rate of travelling with two unskilled men. Peter had proven to be a fast learner, but for Ben even though he succeeded in learning how to handle a sword or a gun, his weight was still going to be a disadvantage. The doctor on the other hand would be too scared and noisy, and that would pose a great threat to the three of them.
"Well, that's a relief" Ben chimed, he had also had reservations concerning bringing the doctor along, especially on a night escapade that he feared could go south easily.
"I suppose so" Jason said, "I think the research unit back at Haven 13 would be able to make sense out of the notes"
"Oh, speaking of notes, where are they?" Ben asked to which Jason tapped on his stomach. Ben looked slightly confused.
"Don't worry, I have them stashed in my notebook, so there's no problem about them getting soaked in sweat or being ripped off" Jason told Ben who shrugged.
"Guess I'll have to say my last prayer before stepping out into the dark with you" Ben grumbled after a while passed in silence.
Raising himself off the box he'd been sitting alongside Jason, he made a turn for the main grounds. Jason watched him walk off in silence.
~~~
"Listen Mr. Reagan, I know what you're plotting, and it's a very stupid one" came the cold voice of Mrs. Marjorie Sanders over the phone. Mr. Reagan was on the other end of the line, and he laughed uneasily.
"What do you mean I'm plotting? Hell, if there's any plot going on, it should be from you" Mr. Reagan jokingly replied. He had been taken by surprise when the old lioness caught up on his schemes. Although he had been planning to let her in on his plans, he hadn't acted yet. Hence, this came as a surprise.
"Be warned Reagan, the politics of America won't work in the circle" Mrs. Sanders said tersely, she was hardly in for his games.
"I am well aware of your bugs and multiple attacks on the project at hand, and I must warn you it won't go down as planned, should anything happen to the spokesman"
"These allegations ma'am, how did you come about all of these..."
"My means are not up for discussion boy" she spoke up, cutting him off.
"Rather than being so invested on getting a perceived enemy out of the way, you would put your energy and yourself to greater use by serving the cause that binds us. Do hav
e a good evening" she said and signed off without a moment's hesitation.
Right in his bedroom, lying next to a young brunette whose body was hardly concealed by her nightie, Mr. Reagan dropped the phone as he pondered the cold conversation he had just had.
His only ally in the cult had just bailed out on him with veiled threats. The old lady really meant business.
Tracing a line on the back of the beauty who laid by his side, his mind wandered off to his estranged wife who was probably up in her study muling over some documents.
Although he tried to be discreet, he knew that his wife would have figured him out already. Women were that gifted when it came to finding out about their spouse's infidelity. Granted he was promiscuous, but that had only been because they both got caught up in their work such that they hardly spent as much time together compared to when they were dating. Luckily for the duo, they had no child to warrant forced cooperation in making the marriage work.
Though he waited for the divorce documents, they never surfaced. He was suspicious, but he couldn't place a finger on the intentions of his wife. One thing was certain, it definitely wasn't in his favor.
Mrs. Kate Reagan was a powerhouse on her own, and she even boasted of contacts beyond the sphere of his influence. It had only been a stroke of luck that he had been let in on the plot to control the world. The old lioness had been the one to let him in on the plan.
Now that he thought about her veiled threat, the pieces were coming together. He had the money, and his wife had the wider network of influence. She was his next of kin, and that meant she would take over everything should he meet his demise.
It clicked.
"I'm glad you finally see it my way. Anyone is expendable Mr. Reagan, and your replacement is right by your side" the text message read on his phone's screen. Mr. Reagan gave a slight smile as he turned off the phone.
Nestling back into bed, he pulled the brunette closer to him as he thought about the defeat he had just conceded. A last minute text message of him agreeing to call of his plot had done the trick.