Rotter World

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Rotter World Page 7

by Scott M. Baker


  “We can start taking back the planet,” added O’Bannon with more of an optimistic tone than anyone had heard from him in months.

  “Exactly,” said Robson. “With this vaccine, we’re the dominant species again.”

  Mad Dog snorted. “If the fucking thing works.”

  A somber mood returned to the hall,

  “Trust me,” said Compton, “it works.”

  The doctor stepped in front of the podium. He unbuttoned his right sleeve, pulled up the cloth, and held his arm above his head. Two sets of teeth marks six inches apart disfigured his forearm. The wounds were deep and left permanent scars, but they were old wounds, long since having scabbed over and healed.

  “I tried out the vaccine on myself six weeks ago.” Compton lowered his arm and pulled down his shirt sleeve. “I didn’t even run a fever.”

  A stunned awe greeted Compton’s remarks. Even Mad Dog seemed impressed, though that did not prevent him from still being argumentative.

  “I don’t buy it. You gotta be naturally immune.”

  “Really?” Thompson approached Mad Dog, unbuttoning his right sleeve in the process to reveal a pair of scarred-over teeth bites on his arm. “I suppose I’m naturally immune, too?”

  “My God,” mumbled Natalie.

  “God had nothing to do with this,” Compton replied pleasantly. “This was all science.”

  “What good will it do us?” asked Dravko. “You said the vaccine was destroyed when you were attacked at the Navy yard.”

  “It was. But before we left, I made extra vaccine and stored it. I also stored away a portion of the virus sample from which I derived the vaccine, and several copies of my notes. The vaccine is not permanently lost. We just have to go back there and get it.”

  That uneasy feeling began to creep down Robson’s spine. “And where’s ‘there’?”

  “Site R in Pennsylvania.” Thompson stepped forward, taking over his part of the briefing. “It’s an underground military facility just outside Gettysburg. Washington originally built it for continuity of government in the event of nuclear war, but gave up on the idea when the Soviets designed nuclear weapons large enough to bust it open. But it’s more than strong enough to keep out the revenants.”

  “Unless one of them has a ten megaton bomb,” quipped O’Bannon. No one laughed.

  “Logistically it’s gonna be a nightmare, boss.” Hodges directed his remarks to Paul. “We’d have to carry enough supplies to get us there and back, which means taking along the tractor trailer.”

  “We only need enough supplies to get there,” said Thompson. “Site R is well stocked with fuel, MREs, ammunition, and anything else we’ll need. When we left, we locked down the facility and secured the compound so nothing could get in. We can open it up and walk right in.”

  Paul stepped forward and forced his way back into the briefing. “Elena and I have discussed the situation with Dr. Compton and Colonel Thompson. We’re sending a group out to Site R to retrieve the vaccine and bring it back here. The group will consist of the doctor, Colonel Thompson, the raiding party, and the Angels.”

  “Are we included?” asked Dravko.

  Elena quickly moved forward. “Of course. We’re all in this together.”

  Dravko shook his head. “Unless you plan on driving like hell and getting there in one night, what the hell happens to us after the sun rises?”

  “We’ve got that covered.” Paul responded. Elena slinked back a few steps, clearly having lost much of her authority with the arrival of the newcomers. “Hodges’ team is preparing the Ryder for the trip. They’re covering the trailer with sheet metal and are installing two sets of blackout curtains behind the rear door. You’ll have a mobile dark room for the journey.”

  Natalie shifted in her chair, looking between Paul and the rest of her girls. “Is it a good idea to send the Angels on this mission?”

  “Afraid?” asked Thompson, the derision evident in his tone.

  “No.” Natalie bristled but maintained her composure. “But is it a good idea to send both the raiding party and us at the same time? You’ll be stripping the camp of all its defenses.”

  “It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” said Paul. “We’ve never had any significant rotter activity around here, so the camp should be able to defend itself while you’re gone. And it’ll only be for a week, ten days at most. Just long enough for the doctor to produce enough vaccine for the camp and to prepare copies of his notes and the core sample.”

  “How accessible is this facility from the outside?” asked Robson.

  “You’re referring to revenants?”

  Robson nodded. “You’re bringing a lot of fire power with you. I want to know what we can expect.”

  Thompson smirked. “There are more revenants around Site R than you and your girls can handle.”

  Natalie bristled again and started to say something, but Robson reached out and gently squeezed her hand. She bit her tongue. He noticed, though, that she did not pull her hand away.

  Thompson continued. “Most of the revenants are effectively contained, so you don’t have to worry. Besides, we have a special way of getting in.”

  Compton moved in front of Thompson, preventing a further clash of personalities. “The biggest threat doesn’t exist at Site R, but on the way. I don’t think you realize how dangerous it is out there. I requested that Paul send all his best trained personnel to make sure we get to the site and back. He concurred.”

  Paul took over the briefing again. “Everything’s settled. Robson and Natalie, prepare your people. Hodges’ team will finish getting the vehicles ready. Besides the Ryder, you’ll be taking the school bus, one of the gun trucks, and the armored car. Any questions?”

  The tone of Paul’s voice indicated none were to be asked. Robson asked anyway. “When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow at midnight.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Everyone worked around the clock during the next twenty-four hours. Hodges’ motor pool crew put in a double shift, preparing the vehicles to make certain they were road worthy and loading them with supplies. Robson, Daytona, Whitehouse, Mad Dog, and Thompson studied the maps and satellite photos of their proposed route until they practically memorized every mile of the journey. Natalie’s Angels spent most of the day filling ten-round magazines with 8mm ammunition for their Mausers. Even though Paul had ordered those going on the mission to get some sleep, no one did. Everyone was apprehensive about what they would find out there. The few who tried just lay on their cots staring at the ceilings, unable to doze off, until frustration got the better of them and they went back to prepping for the trip.

  Paul held the final briefing just after dinner around an easel that had been set up in the now-empty dining hall. All of those who would go on the mission were in attendance. Robson counted everyone as they wandered in and took a seat. Between his raiding party, the Angels, Compton’s team, and the drivers and gunners, twenty-nine people were assembled. They comprised over half the camp, and everyone who could expertly handle a weapon. He frowned as the full extent of the foolishness of Paul’s plan began to sink in. It was one thing to send out the raiding party and the Angels on a quick supply run to Kittery. Paul’s plan would leave the camp defenseless for over a week while placing most of its key personnel in harm’s way. The more he thought about it, the more dangerous this entire scheme sounded.

  Paul waited impatiently for the last stragglers to show up, looking at his watch every few seconds as if that would speed them along. Mad Dog arrived last, entering the dining hall without an apology for being late and taking his usual seat by the window away from the others. Paul stood and cleared his throat to get their attention.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll only take a few minutes of your time because I know you have to prepare for departure. I just want to go over the final arrangements for the convoy and see if there were any last minute questions.

  “We have four vehicles that will be heading out to Sit
e R. Daytona will drive the gun truck with Caylee riding shotgun in back. Whitehouse will drive the school bus, which will carry the Angels and most of the raiding party. Robson will drive the armored car and will take Compton and Thompson as passengers.”

  “Wouldn’t it give us better protection if we left the armored car behind and took along the second gun truck?” asked O’Bannon.

  “It would. But I chose the armored car to protect the vaccine so we don’t have a repeat of what happened at the Navy yard.” Paul spoke louder so Mad Dog could hear. “Mad Dog will drive the Ryder. Elena’s people will rest in the back during the day. At night they’ll take over the driving so the rest of you can get some sleep. Food and ammo will be divided among the four vehicles. Daytona will carry most of the fuel in the dumpster bed, enough to keep all four vehicles fueled for seven hundred miles. Sorry about that, Caylee.”

  The young woman shrugged.

  Natalie lifted her hand and caught Paul’s attention. “What do you mean seven hundred miles? I looked at a map this morning, and Site R is only five hundred miles from here.”

  “It is, as the crow flies. I’ll let Windows explain.”

  Paul motioned to a young girl in the front row in her early twenties with a short-cut blonde bob and librarian-style glasses. She stood up and crossed over to the easel, unfolding an old road map of the eastern seaboard. Flattening it out against the easel’s surface, she anchored it in place with pushpins. Robson noted a yellow highlighted line running from the coast of Maine west through New England and New York, then turning south into Pennsylvania. Windows placed a folder filled with paper in the chalk tray. When she turned to face the group, a huge smile brightened her face.

  “I spent the day checking out satellite images and talking to the survivors of Dr. Compton’s party.” Windows glanced over at Compton. “You chose one of the most infected routes to get here. It’s a wonder any of you made it as far as you did. I compared the satellite photos off the Internet against the maps, and I’ve come up with a route that should get you down to Pennsylvania while avoiding most major highways and population centers.”

  “You still have Internet access?” asked Thompson.

  Windows shook her head enough for the blonde strands to slap across her cheeks. “The ‘Net crashed months ago. Before it did, we set up a bank of computers and downloaded everything that could be of use. Medical journals, how-to books, road maps, commercial satellite photos. We kept updating these photos until the ‘Net finally went off line. By that time the world had pretty much fallen apart, so these are up to date.”

  Windows handed the colonel a manila folder with dozens of printed satellite photos showing various scenes of the proposed route to Site R. He thumbed through the photos as Windows went back to the map and referred to the highlighted route.

  “A straight run to Site R like your convoy took will go right through or near every major population center on the way. I’ve picked a route that bypasses most of that, but it adds another two hundred miles to your trip. I briefed all the drivers on the routes earlier tonight so they know what to expect.”

  When Windows finished she looked over at Paul. He nodded his approval and motioned for her to sit down, then continued the briefing.

  “Once you leave here, Robson is in command until the convoy reaches Site R. Dravko and Natalie will be his back-ups, in that order. Upon arrival at the facility, Compton will be in charge of all decisions related to the vaccine, and Thompson will be in charge of security. Once you leave Site R to return here, command reverts back to Robson. Anything else?”

  Robson suppressed a wry smile. He had a thousand questions about this mission. They all did. Most of them knew they would never get an answer, or would be fed some bullshit about being for the good of what little mankind remained, so the questions went unasked.

  “Yeah,” said Thompson pointing to Mad Dog. “I want him removed from the raiding party.”

  Mad Dog started to rise from his seat, his glare fixed on Thompson. Paul motioned for Mad Dog to sit. He hesitated, uncertain whether to obey Paul or his own instincts. Only when Robson turned to him and mouthed the word “sit” did Mad Dog comply.

  Paul turned his attention back to Thompson. “Why do you want to leave Mad Dog behind?”

  “He’s a coward and a deserter.”

  “Fuck you, asshole,” screamed Mad Dog as he jumped out of his chair again.

  Thompson stood up and faced him from across the dining hall. “When we went into lockdown you abandoned the facility.”

  “Is that true?” Robson asked.

  Mad Dog stared at Robson, his mouth slightly agape. “Come on, man. You know me fuckin’ better than that. I left to get… something. When I got back, they’d already sealed up the facility and I couldn’t get back in. I had no choice but to set out on my own.”

  Thompson refused to back down. “You were warned along with the others that maintaining the integrity of the facility was the primary concern. You left the facility and got locked out. That’s not my problem. But bringing you along is. I won’t risk the success of this mission on someone who’s unreliable.”

  Mad Dog looked over at Robson, an uncharacteristic tone of desperation in his voice. “You know this is fuckin’ bullshit, man. I’ve never let you or the others down. You can’t leave me behind.”

  Robson had never seen Mad Dog like this, nor did he have any idea why Mad Dog was so adamant about going. Not that it mattered, because it would not alter his decision. He looked alternately between Paul and Thompson. “Mad Dog is one of the best rotter fighters I have. He’s going.”

  Mad Dog responded with a barely perceptible nod and mouthed the word “Thanks.”

  Thompson shook his head. “I’m responsible for security at Site R, and I refuse to allow him on this mission.”

  Robson did not need this machismo bullshit and decided to put an end to it. “If I don’t have control over my team, then I’ll sit out this raid.”

  “Fine with me,” said Thompson. “Who’s second in command?”

  Dravko raised his hand. His voice dripped with contempt. “I am. Or do you have a problem with that?”

  Tibor leaned closer to Thompson and offered the colonel an exaggerated smile, enough to expose his fangs.

  “Enough!” bellowed Paul. “All of you. These arrangements were already worked out and are not open for discussion. Colonel, if you have a problem with Robson or the people under his command, I suggest you take this up with Dr. Compton.”

  Thompson bristled at the dressing down, but said nothing.

  “Alright. If there’s nothing else, you’re all dismissed.”

  Everyone stood and filtered out of the dining hall, most trying to escape the tension-filled room as quickly as possible. Thompson stuck around just long enough to flash withering glances at Robson, Mad Dog, and Paul before leaving, pushing through the others as he made his way to the exit. Only Robson and Paul stayed behind, watching the others until the last one had departed.

  “Well,” said Paul with a heavy sigh. “That didn’t go as I had planned.”

  “Do you trust these guys?”

  “Actually, I do.” Paul stepped over to the easel and pulled down the map. “I spent several hours talking with Compton. He’s created a vaccine for the Zombie Virus, and it’s sitting at Site R waiting for us. Compton’s convinced that once we get the vaccine to the government-in-exile, we’ll be able to turn this whole situation around, and I believe him.”

  “What about Thompson?”

  Paul folded the map and placed it into the folder with the satellite photos. “I’ve dealt with his kind before. He’s opinionated as hell, but he’ll do whatever Dr. Compton tells him to. The doctor assured me he’ll keep Thompson on a short leash.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Of course I’m right. That’s why I’m in charge.” Paul smiled and headed for the exit, with Robson close behind. “Is everything ready to roll?”

  “Hodges is finishin
g checking out the vehicles. Once he’s done, we’ll be good to go.”

  “Great.” Paul looked at his watch. “You still have a few hours. Go get yourself some sleep. You have several long days ahead of you.”

  Chapter Twelve

  As the coven exited the blockhouse and made their way down the stairs, Elena raced after them.

  “Tatyana, wait up.”

  The young vampire stopped. The others each quickly glanced over their shoulder before continuing on, all except Dravko who stood by ten feet away.

  Elena slowed as she approached Tatyana. Placing her arm around the young vampire’s shoulder, Elena gently directed her down the stairs and away from the stream of people. Dravko followed at a discreet distance.

  “I need to talk to you for a minute,” said Elena.

  “About what?”

  “I don’t want you to going with the others.”

  Tatyana became defensive. “Why?”

  “I don’t think you’re up to it.”

  “I feel fine.”

  “You’re not ready psychologically.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It takes decades for a newly-sired vampire to become accustomed to their abilities. You’ve not had enough time to grow familiar with them yet, and I can’t send you into battle like that. It’s too dangerous.”

  “How can you say that?” Tatyana shrugged off Elena’s arm. She took a step away and turned to face the master. “I fought alongside you and the rest of the coven all the way from New York. No one had to hold my hand or look out for me, and no one has ever questioned my fighting skills. So why the sudden concern?”

  “I’m not questioning your fighting skills. I’m questioning your judgment.”

 

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