Deadlocked 7

by A. R. Wise

  “I told you to sit down.”

  She didn’t. “Whatever Jerald has told you, I can guarantee it’s not the entire truth.” Beatrice walked to the kitchen of the cabin and started to look through the cupboards. “Do you have tea here?”

  “Damn it,” said Hero. “I told you to sit your ass on the couch.”

  “Save the bravado, boy.”

  “Boy?” Hero reacted as if it were an affront. “If there’s just one real man left on Earth, you’re looking at him, lady.”

  “You can puff your chest all you like, but I know you’re not going to hurt me.” She found the cabinet with tea in it, boxes wrapped in cellophane that she started to rummage through. “Jerald’s a lot of things, but he’s not stupid.”

  “No, but I’m starting to think you are.” Hero pointed his pistol at her to make a point.

  She smirked and rolled her eyes, then stuck her fingernail into the wrapper of the tea box to slit it open. “I forgot how tough your type likes to act. If there’s one thing I don’t miss about the old days, it’s dealing with men like you.” She took a tea bag out of the box and let it drape by the string as she smirked at Hero. “You think that gun makes you powerful, but you don’t scare me. I’m too important to you and your blustering, braggadocios leader.”

  “Bitch…” Hero was past frustrated, and pointed the gun at the cabinet with the boxes of tea. He fired twice, bursting various boxes into a mess of wrappers and loose tea. Then he pointed at the kettle on the stove and shot it, causing it to fly off the counter and bounce on the floor.

  Beatrice yelped, dropped the tea bag, and held her hands over her mouth. She seemed to shrink as she tightened her elbows to her breasts and bent her knees. A simple silver bracelet jangled on her wrist as she cowered.

  “Do I have your fucking attention now?”

  “What are you doing, you idiot?” She still slunk away from him.

  “I’m not one of Jerald’s men. I don’t belong to anyone, no matter what impression you got from my black ass skin. For you, I’m the single scariest mother fucker on the planet right now. Understood? Can I get some respect now?”

  “Who are you?”

  Hero groaned in frustration. “I’m asking the questions, or do I need to kill some more Earl Grey to prove it? Now get over there and sit on the fucking couch, you pain in the ass.”

  “Okay, okay,” said Beatrice. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

  “I make a living of that.” Hero shook his head and laughed as she walked past him, her arms over her face as she went as if he was threatening to punch her.

  Beatrice sat on the plush leather couch and crossed her legs, still acting like a proper lady even as a brute pointed a gun at her. She huffed, straightened her slacks, and then took a breath to steady herself. “Have at it then, Mister Levon. Ask away. But first, you must tell me just who the hell you are.”

  “Oh, must I?” Hero mocked her British accent.

  “I implore you,” she matched his sarcastic tone.

  “I’m a member of the High Rollers.”

  Beatrice sat forward, intrigued and eager to learn more. “Reagan’s group? Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, how do you know about the old man?”

  “Reagan?”

  “Yeah, what the fuck? Everyone seems to know about him. What’s with that?”

  She paused, and Hero wasn’t sure if she was trying to think of what to say, or what not to say. “A lot of people have been interested in finding your group.”

  “I thought that was because you assumed one of us was immune. How does Reagan fit into it?”

  “He was examined by a group of scientists after the apocalypse, and it turned out his immune system had developed antibodies to the virus. He had been,” she looked down and paused, but then coughed and continued, “exposed to a version of the cure, and it was thought that the exposure had taught his system to fight off the virus. That’s something that we’ve never been able to replicate. It’s important because that ability could lead to us being able to inoculate massive numbers of innocent people.”

  “They told me you were looking for a kid, a girl that was tested on back when the apocalypse started,” said Hero.

  “Yes, we were. A man named Courtland performed two experiments on children. One of them was a failure, and created the first of what we call the Undying.”

  “The zombies that don’t pop,” said Hero. “We call them Greys.”

  “The other child, a girl, disappeared. We knew she was with Reagan, so there was a chance that her immune system might’ve been influenced by his. We wanted to find her to help save the world from this disease. Think of it, Levon. With them, we might be able to create a cure that spreads from person to person. We could save the world.”

  Hero gave a sly smile, and then chuckled. “Nice try, you twisted old bitch.”

  “What?” asked Beatrice. “I’m telling the truth. If the girl’s immunity had been bolstered by contact with Reagan, then we might very well have been able to stop the virus.”

  “Oh really?” Hero feigned excitement. “Gosh, that’s super.”

  “Why are you acting like this?”

  “Because I know your game already, Bea. Hope you don’t mind if I call you Bea. It’s short for Bitch.”

  “I should’ve expected as much from a terrorist like you,” she said and crossed her arms.

  “I already know about the Noah Initiative. So you can take that high and mighty routine and shove it ten feet up your ass.”

  She settled back in her seat, but didn’t look frightened or submissive after Hero’s revelation that he knew about The Electorate’s plan. “Whatever you think you know, it’s not the entire story. I can assure you of that.”

  “Considering the bullshit you just tried to feed me, I’ll just assume that whatever the truth is, you’re not the one that’s going to give it to me.”

  “It would do you good to hear both sides of the story,” said Beatrice. “I know it’s probably hard to believe, but I’m not the bad guy here.”

  Hero sighed and rolled his eyes. “Save it, sister. I’ve heard that line a thousand times. I’ve never met anyone that admits to being the bad guy. Let me throw this out at you, and tell me when I’m wrong. First off, you were part of the group that released the virus.”

  “You don’t know the…” she tried to speak, but Hero cut her off.

  “Shut the fuck up. Second, you plan on living forever by doing some science fiction bullshit brain transfer or something.”

  “Are you going to let me respond to…”

  “Shut the fuck up. Third, you had the scientists here working on a super virus that can infect all mammals, not just humans, and you planned on releasing it as soon as you were able to get all of your body factory girls out of here.”

  “Is that all?” asked Beatrice. “Can I speak now?”

  “Shut the fuck up.” Hero glared at her in silence for a moment. “Okay, now you can talk.” Hero was amused as he waited for this woman to try and explain away what he already knew. He couldn’t fathom what she could possibly say that could change his mind about her.

  She looked up at him with an earnest expression. “I can save you and everyone you love.”

  He was shocked into silence.

  “You already know what’s coming. There’s nothing we can do to stop it. I can offer you a life better than your wildest dreams, filled with all the treasures and comforts that only the wealthiest people on the planet were ever able to enjoy. Every single day you’ll wake up in paradise, surrounded by the people you love, and never again have to worry about disease or even dying.”

  “You must be crazy,” said Hero.

  She sat forward and interrupted him. “You’ll have a mansion, or even your own island if you want. I’m talking about paradise, Levon. Perfect weather, sandy beaches, a new girl every night if that’s what you want. I can make every minute of the rest of your life perfect.” She sat back and looked pleased w
ith herself. “Or you could continue being an obstinate prick and never have another comfortable moment for the rest of your short, short life. No one’s going to live through the next apocalypse, my dear man. No one but us, if you play your cards right.”

  Hero looked down at her, silent, hoping she thought he was considering her deal. Then he smirked, winked, and said, “Remember how I told you that everyone thinks they’re the good guy? Well, you’re looking at the genuine article, Bea. And being the good guy’s not about being comfortable. Sometimes it’s about getting downright nasty.”

  He pointed the gun at her.

  Chapter Seven – Playing God

  Seven months after the apocalypse

  One month after Reagan’s first attack, they prepare for more.

  “Why aren’t they fighting back?” asked Billy.

  “They’re too damn scared,” said Hero with a grin before tearing open the packet of honey roasted peanuts. “We put the fear of God in them. Right old man?” He elbowed Reagan who was staring out of the gas station window.

  “No,” said Reagan. “I doubt that. And don’t try and be chummy with me, kid. I’m still pissed at you for wrecking the van.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” said Billy. “My back just acted up. Made me jerk the wheel to the right.”

  “I liked that van,” said Reagan. “Now we’re stuck tooling around in a damn station wagon trying to cover up our haul with blankets in the back.”

  “No worries,” said Hero. “It’s not there are any patrols sneaking around checking out cars anymore.”

  “It’s weird, right?” Billy was standing behind the counter, his pockets replete with stolen snacks. “I thought we’d have to tuck tail and run after our first few attacks, but they’re not putting up any sort of fight. It doesn’t make any damn sense.”

  Reagan continued to look out the window, the crepuscular rays shining in on him. “Worse than that, I think they’re retreating. Not just hiding, but actually planning on leaving the area.”

  Hero chuckled, though neither of his friends joined him. “How is that a bad thing? Isn’t that what we wanted?”

  “Why are they scared of us?” asked Reagan. “These are supposedly the people that killed most of the world’s population, but they get scared by three assholes with pipe bombs? Billy’s right, that doesn’t make any damn sense.”

  “Someone write this down,” said Billy as he feigned awe. “The old man just said I was right about something.” He put his hand over his chest, crunching a bag of chips that was tucked into the breast pocket of his jacket. “Be still my beating heart.” He acted like a southern belle moments from feinting.

  “Settle down, Ms. O’Hara, being right once a year isn’t worth getting excited about. And you’re still not making up for wrecking the van.” Reagan walked away from the window, his rifle still in his hands as if on patrol. The old man rarely let up his guard, even when they were certain they were safe.

  After the first week of sabotaging the military’s buildings in the mountains of Colorado, they had expected to be forced to flee. To their surprise, the military presence here had no interest in retaliation. Instead, they abandoned their posts and retreated to within their walls, leaving their supplies to be plundered. Reagan had insisted it was a trap, and chose to wait and watch rather than move in to take anything. That was almost a month ago, and still the base on the outskirts of Estes Park was quiet.

  “What makes you think they’re planning on leaving?” asked Hero.

  “They disabled the transformers in the area. I noticed it when we got back from meeting up with the girls.” The three of them had returned to Lyons to meet up with Laura and her daughters after first attacking the military base. They had expected to be forced to leave, pursued by the military, but that never happened. After a week, they returned to Estes Park to discover the base all but abandoned.

  “I thought you said survivors did that for water,” said Hero.

  Reagan had told them that the bullet holes in the bottom of the transformers on the telephone poles in the area had been put there by crafty survivors in search of fresh water. The garbage-can style transformers all had a reservoir in the bottom that could be shot into, providing anyone below with a good amount of sterile water.

  “I thought that at first, but it doesn’t make much sense,” said Reagan. “It’d take you all of fifteen minutes to find a fresh source of water out here, no need to go shooting up all the transformers. No, they disabled them because they’re going to run.”

  “And leave all that stuff for us?” asked Hero. “There’s a whole arsenal out there.”

  “I doubt it’s safe to take,” said Reagan. “Might be trapped, not worth the risk.”

  They heard a metallic rattle from the other side of the station before Clyde came out of the bathroom. He had a satisfied smile as he pat his stomach. “I can’t tell you how good it feels to shit on a toilet instead of behind a bush. And they’ve still got toilet paper in there. Plumbing’s turned off now though, so if you go in there just stay away from the first stall.”

  “The plumbing was working fine all around here a month ago,” said Billy.

  Reagan nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we convinced them to pack up and leave.”

  “That didn’t take long,” said Clyde.

  “Somehow, I feel like we’re the ones being made the fool here, fellas,” said Reagan. “I don’t know how or why, but it doesn’t make any damn sense for a base that big to just close up shop after losing a few trucks and buildings.”

  “What do you think’s going on then?” asked Billy as he made his way out from behind the cashier’s counter.

  “They’re handing this area to us,” said Reagan. “A big fucking mousetrap.”

  “Then why not leave the electrical grid up and the plumbing on?” asked Billy.

  “They don’t want to make it obvious,” said Reagan.

  Billy was about to say something else, but his back gave out and he staggered. He caught himself against a rack of magazines and groaned as Clyde ran up to assist him.

  “You all right?” asked Clyde.

  “Yeah, fine. I just twisted the wrong way or something. I’ll be okay.”

  “Look out,” said Hero. “He’s gonna wreck another van.”

  Clyde glowered at Hero and then shook his head. “I told you this was a bad idea. I know you think you’re fine, but even with that brace I think you should be taking it easy.”

  “It’s been half a year,” said Billy. “I thought you said my back would be like new by now.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not an orthopedic surgeon. There’s no way to know just how bad your back is. It’s not like I’ve got an x-ray of what sort of damage you’ve got going on back there. You could be one wrong twist away from paralyzed as far as I know.” Clyde tried to support his friend until Billy pushed his hand away.

  “Maybe you should stick with Laura and the girls from now on,” said Reagan.

  “Fuck that,” said Billy. “I’m not missing out on all the fun out here. I’m fine guys, really. Don’t worry about me.”

  “All right,” said Hero. “What’s the plan then, old man? Are we going to keep putting the hurt on these guys or do we back off now that they’re packing up and leaving?”

  Reagan turned to look out the window again. “I can’t ask you three to go with me any further.”

  “What?” The three asked almost in unison.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” asked Billy.

  Reagan stayed facing away. “I’m going to find a way into their base. It’s a dumb move, and I don’t want you three getting hurt.”

  “If it’s a dumb move, why you doing it?” asked Hero.

  “Because I need to figure out what the hell they’re up to.”

  “I’m going with,” said Billy.

  “No,” said Reagan. “I don’t think you…”

  “Me too,” said Hero.

  “Same,” said Clyde.

&nb
sp; Reagan finally turned to look at them. “This is a suicide mission. You three are dumb as shit, you know that?”

  “Learned from the best,” said Hero.

  * * *

  August 24th, 20 years after the apocalypse

  Hero is confronting Beatrice in the cabin above the transfer facility.

  “So you’re just going to shoot me?” asked Bea. “That’s your answer? I offer you paradise, and you point a gun at me?”

  “I’m a complicated guy.”

  “You’re a thug.” Bea sneered and made a gun with her hand that she tapped against the side of her neck, referring to the tattoo that Hero had on his.

  “Yep. Now let’s talk about how we’re going to stop this new virus. We can purge this facility, but how many others are out there?”

  She crossed her arms. “And why in heavens would I tell you anything?”

  “Because until five minutes ago, you were under the impression you’d live forever.” Hero tapped the barrel of his pistol against his temple. “It’s got to be a pretty big mind fuck to be sitting there now, knowing you’re going to die. I’m willing to bet you’d do whatever it takes to live just a few more weeks.”

  “I’m not afraid to die,” said Bea.

  Hero smirked and tilted his head. “Bullshit. We’re all afraid to die. That’s why you and the other members of The Electorate tried to figure out a way to live forever.”

  She scowled and shook her head. “You keep saying that, but it’s not true. I came here to die, you daft brute. What do you think this is all about?” She motioned to the cabin around them.

  “This is where you recover after the transfer,” said Hero, although he sounded unsure of himself. “Right?”

  “No, not exactly. You’ve got it in your head that the procedure plucks my brain out of my head and puts it into Cobra’s. That’s not how it works. The final transfer is when I go brain dead, and the last bits of my memory are put into my host. In a sense, I live on, but only as much as a computer hologram of me would. Does that make sense?”