Rotter World

by Scott M. Baker

  “Damn,” swore Compton.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “When we left the compound, we converted to emergency solar power. There must have been a temporary outage.”

  “That means we’re trapped out here?” Robson did not relish the idea of having to gain access through the main gate.

  “No. I have the override code. It just means this will take a little longer.”

  “It’s all yours.”

  Compton raised his head to see the lock through his bifocals and punched in a five-digit code. The ERROR light stopped blinking. A series of red dots ran along the bottom of the display for several seconds before another word lit up: ENGAGED. Lifting the padlock in his left hand, Compton spun the combination lock to the right, to the left, back to the right, and set it on zero. It popped open in his hand. He dropped the lock into his jacket pocket and removed the chain, draping it over his shoulder. He then punched another five-digit code into the keypad. The word on the display switched to OPEN. With a whir, the gate slid aside. Compton stepped through and performed the procedure on the second gate.

  As the second gate opened, Compton rejoined Robson. “You bring the vehicles through. I’ll wait here and close the gates behind you.”

  “Gotcha.” Robson ran back to the school bus and yelled up to Daytona. “Let’s roll.”

  “We can’t.”

  “Why?”

  “We lost Mad Dog.”

  * * *

  When he saw Robson and Compton head for the gate, Mad Dog slipped out of the Ryder.

  “Where are you going?” asked Jennifer.

  “I’ll be fine.” He reached in and patted her hand. “Take care of yourself.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he walked away from the truck and headed for the next to the last house on the left. Making his way around to the rear, he opened the gate leading into the backyard and crossed to the kitchen door. It hung ajar, the wood around the jamb busted as if something had broken in. Mad Dog breathed deeply and stepped inside.

  Pitch dark filled the interior of the house. Removing a flashlight from his jacket, he switched it on and headed inside with a familiarity borne of experience. The small wooden breakfast table sat askew, with its accompanying chairs either knocked over or shoved to one side. Across from the kitchen, a swinging door led to a combination living room/dining room. Mad Dog pushed open the door and stepped through.

  And felt his heart sink.

  The dining room was a shambles. The table sat on its side, its chairs spread helter skelter across the room. One lay in pieces beside the door underneath a huge gouge that had been taken out of the wall. The glass in the china hutch had been shattered, with shards of broken dishes mixing with the glass on the rug.

  He found the living room in a similar state of disarray. Only this time, amidst the broken furniture, were the remains of a female body. The skin that still clung to the skeleton had long since mummified, as had the bits of flesh and organs scattered around the body, the remnants of a rotter feeding frenzy. It sat in the center of a pool of dried blood that stained the carpet black. The corpse was barely recognizable, but Mad Dog knew exactly who it belonged to. He knelt down beside the remains and gently stroked its leathery cheek. Tears welled up in his eyes. At least she hadn’t become one of them.

  Bending over, Mad Dog kissed the corpse on its forehead, oblivious to the death that pressed against his lips. He sniffed, clearing his nose of snot.

  “Goodbye, Marcia.”

  Standing up, he stripped out of his jacket and laid it across her face and shoulders. It was the least he could do.

  Mad Dog made his way around the blood-stained sofa to the corner of the living room near the front of the house. The tears welled up in his eyes again. The dog crate sat in the corner, unaffected by the carnage. Inside sat the two tiny skeletons of his beloved Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, George and Gracie. Deep down he had hoped that somehow they had escaped and made their way to safety where they could have fended for themselves in the woods, giving them a fighting chance. Instead, they were trapped in their cage, left to die slowly of starvation while their owner’s body decomposed nearby. He didn’t know who suffered the worst fate.

  God knows he had tried to save them. He had left the compound only for a few minutes to rescue his family and bring them back to the safety of the facility, only to find the neighborhood overrun with rotters, dozens of them, feeding on friends who had not gotten out in time. Trying to make it to his house at the opposite end of the cul-de-sac would have been suicide. Marcia had been a tough woman, and he prayed she had taken off with the dogs when the situation deteriorated. When he couldn’t make it to his house, he had returned to the compound to discover that he had been locked out. With nowhere else to go, he had set out on his own, looking for a safe place to ride out the outbreak, and hopefully be reunited with his family.

  Only she hadn’t run. She had waited for him to come and save them, and died.

  Mad Dog dropped to his knees in front of the crate. The sobs came long and heavy, months of pent up fear, guilt, and anguish purging all at once. His hand caressed the top of the crate. He could barely make out the bones of George and Gracie through his tears.

  “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed.

  Pulling himself back together, Mad Dog stood up and crossed over to the lounge chair that used to be his favorite spot to watch television. Ironically, it was the one piece of furniture not broken. He slumped into it, sighing along with the cushions. The flashbacks flooded into his mind, providing a temporary solace from his pain. God, how many times had he and Marcia sat side by side, each with one of the dogs in their laps, petting their ears as they watched TV and argued about politics, what they were going to watch, and the value of reality shows? Those days were gone now.

  Forever.

  Reaching for his holster, Mad Dog withdrew the .357 Magnum and placed the barrel into his mouth. The taste of the metal felt so soothing on his tortured soul. Maneuvering the end of the barrel so it sat against the roof of his mouth, Mad Dog’s finger gently squeezed the trigger.

  * * *

  “Where the hell is he?” Robson hadn’t meant to snap at Tatyana and Jennifer. He was just pissed at Mad Dog for going off without telling anyone, especially in unknown territory.

  Jennifer slid across the front seat and leaned out the window, looking over the spikes surrounding the windshield. She pointed to the row of homes off to the left. “Right after we stopped he got out and headed for the second house on the end.”

  “Did he say why?”

  “No. He just told me to take care of myself.”

  Dravko shook his head. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “We’ve got to find him. You’re with me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Jennifer, get on the school bus. Tatyana, you take the wheel, and be ready to move if anything happens.”

  “Gotcha.” Tatyana waited for Jennifer to climb out of the cab before she slid over into the driver’s seat.

  Robson led the way to the house, unholstering the Colt .45 he had borrowed from Thompson and switching on his flashlight. The two men had closed to within a few yards of the house when a single gunshot rang out from inside. They broke into a sprint, racing across the lawn and up the front stairs. Dravko rammed his shoulder into the door, knocking it off its hinges, and stepped inside. Robson rushed past him and stopped in the hall, one hand holding the Colt and the other the flashlight, panning the area. Dravko tapped him and pointed into the living room.

  The beam from the flashlight fell on Mad Dog’s corpse slumped back in a lounge chair, chunks of his brain and skull dripping from the ceiling.

  Dravko placed a hand on Robson’s shoulder. “At least he’s at peace now.”

  Robson went to cover up Mad Dog’s remains when the blaring of the Ryder’s horn caught his attention. A moment later, the two men heard the all too familiar groan of rotters. They rushed out onto the front porch. Tatyana leaned out of
the truck window, waving at them to hurry up. Ari and Bethany crouched down in a firing position by the truck’s front fender, ready to defend the convoy.

  Around them, a dozen rotters filtered into the neighborhood, drawn by Mad Dog’s gunshot. Most came from the surrounding houses, while a few wandered from the woods. Neither their numbers nor their proximity posed a threat.

  As Robson and Dravko rushed back to the others, Daytona and Tatyana drove their vehicles through the twin security gates onto the compound. Ari and Bethany waited until the two men passed before they followed. Compton stood by the outer gate, waiting for everyone to pass through before punching his five-digit code into the keypad. The outer gate started to slide shut. Compton stepped inside, walked up to the second keypad, and punched in his code again. He stepped inside the compound, standing beside Robson and Dravko as the gate glided into the closed position.

  “That’ll keep them out.” Compton left the others standing there and strolled back to the school bus.

  Robson watched the rotters slowly converge on the gate, clawing at the chain links to get at them. More like trap us inside, he thought.

  Book Three

  Chapter Thirty-six

  The dirt road that led from the rear gate wound its way through the forest surrounding Site R. Both vehicles creaked and groaned as they jostled along the rutted surface, neither having been designed for terrain such as this. The discomfort was a small price to pay, though, for everyone got to see an area teeming with life. Isolated from the horrors of the rotter world by the security fence, wildlife flourished within the compound. Every time one of the vehicles banged its way through a pothole, a rabbit or deer would bolt, seeking cover amongst the trees. Turning one corner, the school bus’ headlights fell upon a beaver standing in the middle of the road. Upon being caught in the glare, it raced ahead of them, its furry behind seeming to shake in defiance before it darted into a small gulley.

  Robson couldn’t help but smile. For the first time in months, the world seemed normal.

  That delusion quickly evaporated when the road finally broke through the tree line. Ahead of them sat a large clearing at the base of the mountain, stripped of its natural beauty and replaced by the functionality of a military compound. Originally designed in the 1950s to house and protect the Oval Office during a nuclear war, Site R quickly became obsolete as the world’s nuclear weapons became increasingly more destructive, and was eventually relegated to quartering other, less important government entities. Aesthetics had obviously never factored into the facility’s responsibilities. An endless stream of vehicular traffic had crushed down most of the grass, leaving behind an unsightly expanse of churned dirt and gravel. An abandoned two-and-a-half-ton military truck, a stripped-down Humvee, and several rusted metal sheds littered the area. A large swath of trees had been felled along the ascending slope, and had been replaced with a row of metal towers bearing the electrical wires that supplied the facility. A tunnel dug into the base of the mountain large enough to drive two trucks through further marred the pristine beauty. The tunnel’s entrance glowed red from a string of emergency lights running along its ceiling.

  “In there,” said Compton excitedly as he pointed to the entrance.

  Daytona looked nervously over his shoulder. “Are you sure?”

  “We have to be careful not to get too close to the tunnel entrance by the front gate, otherwise we’ll excite the revenants.”

  Daytona nodded. “That’s fine with me.”

  The vehicles carefully entered the tunnel. The emergency lights provided just enough illumination to see by, although there was little inside worth viewing. Just smooth rock walls that extended into the distance.

  “How far is it?” asked Robson.

  “About a third of mile straight ahead, then the tunnel bears right to the access door.” Compton kept his eyes focused on the tunnel ahead of him. “There’s an entrance similar to this on the opposite end of the mountain.”

  “Why are the tunnels so long?” asked Daytona.

  “Site R was built directly beneath the apex of the mountain. A couple of tons of solid rock lie directly above our heads.”

  “Wonderful.” Daytona did not sound pleased. “We’re entering a fucking tomb.”

  “Far from it.” Compton smiled, trying to reassure him. “This facility was designed to withstand a blast of several hundred kilotons. A few hundred revenants pose no threat.”

  “Unless they trap us inside,” muttered Robson.

  Daytona turned at the bend in the tunnel. After another minute, Compton pointed to a huge blast door twenty feet square off to the left. “Stop right there. I’ll open it up and you can drive on in.”

  Daytona did as ordered and idled the school bus. Compton jumped out and walked over to the door. He punched a code into the digital display mounted to the right of the door and stepped back. It popped open. Robson whistled in amazement. The door was composed of steel four feet thick. Much to his surprise, the doctor pushed on it with his hand, swinging it aside with the same ease as he might have the front door of his house.

  “How the hell did he do that?” asked Daytona. “That thing must weigh a couple of tons.”

  “It does,” answered Jennifer who had come forward to join them. “It’s on special hinges designed to allow one person to close it quickly in case of emergencies.”

  Robson and Daytona stared at her quizzically.

  She grinned. “Each of us had to learn other tasks while we were here to ensure continuity of operations if some of us were killed or incapacitated. I was assigned to the engineering department.”

  “So you must know this place pretty well?” asked Robson.

  “Like the back of my hand.”

  Compton waved them on. Daytona maneuvered the school bus through the opening. Tatyana followed.

  Inside the facility they found a service road two lanes wide. A massive concrete wall blocked the path to their right. Two Humvees with Military Police markings and roof-mounted blue lights sat in front of it. To the left, the road extended deep into the mountain as far as the eye could see. A concrete dome stretched from the outer wall to a height of one hundred feet. In front of them, three buildings, each three stories in height, stretched back for a hundred yards. Daytona pulled the school bus over against the wall and shut down the vehicle. Tatyana pulled the Ryder in behind him.

  A moment later, Compton stepped back onto the bus. He gestured toward Thompson, who still sat unconscious in one of the seats. “I need to get the colonel to the infirmary so I can start treating him.”

  “Before you do that, I want to check out the facility and make certain it’s secure.”

  “That’s not necessary. We secured it as we left. There’s no way a revenant could have gotten in.”

  “Still, I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

  “That’s no longer your concern, Mr. Robson.” Compton spoke in a quiet but firm voice. “I hope I don’t have to remind you what Paul said about my being in charge once we arrived?”

  Robson did remember and was not happy about how quickly the doctor assumed his authority. Despite his displeasure, he backed down. “No, you don’t.”

  Compton placed a conciliatory hand on his shoulder. “There’s an easy way to check this place out. Every part of this facility is covered by security cameras. Miss Wilson can take you to the control room and you can conduct your inspection from there. Is that acceptable?”

  “Sure.” Like he had another choice.

  “Good. Now, if I could get someone to help me with the colonel—”

  “I’ll carry him.” Tibor came forward from the rear of the bus. Crouching down, he slid his hands under Thompson and lifted the colonel off the seat, cradling him like a child. “Lead the way.”

  Compton hesitated, seemingly uncertain about trusting a vampire. When no one else volunteered to assist, he gave in to the inevitable. The doctor shrugged, exited the bus, and led the way to the infirmary on the second floor of the far le
ft building. Tibor followed.

  Robson mouthed to Natalie for her to send along an escort. She nodded and turned to her Angels. “Ari, take two of the girls and stay with them.”

  “Roger.” Ari choose Emily and Bethany. The three set off after the doctor.

  Tatyana had shut down the Ryder and joined the others. “What’s the game plan, boss?”

  Robson frowned. “To start with, I’m no longer the boss. Compton’s in charge as long as we’re here.”

  From where he sat near the back of the bus, Dravko mumbled, “That makes me feel a lot safer.”

  A few uncomfortable chuckles filled the bus. Robson ignored them. “I want everyone to stay here with the vehicles. Jennifer and I will go to the control room and use the security cameras to scan this place for rotters. Once we’re certain the area’s secure, we’ll come and get you.”

  “I’m coming along.” Natalie stepped forward.

  “That won’t be necessary,” said Robson. “We should be okay.”

  “It’s your own orders. No one travels without an armed escort while in an unsecured environment.”

  Natalie tried to sound forceful, but the look in her eyes indicated she was more concerned with being with him than ensuring his safety.

  “Fine. You’re with us.”

  Natalie grinned like a school girl asked to the prom. She took the Mauser from Leila and swung the strap over her shoulder.

  Robson let Jennifer lead. The group made their way to the building on the far right and entered the foyer. Directly across from them stood another door with a window in the upper quadrant, showing the interior of the building. Off to the left sat two rows of lockers, while a set of stairs ascended to their right. Jennifer climbed the stairs to the third floor landing, opened the door, and stepped inside.

  Another corridor ran the entire length of the building, ending at a second windowed door at the far end. The interior was designed with typical U.S. Government functionality. Recessed fluorescent lights, light-colored tiled floors, walls painted white, plain wooden doors with plastic plaques mounted on brass frames in the middle of each one. The only illumination came from the red emergency lights, casting an eerie glow along the corridor.