Chapter Forty-one
Stretching in his bunk, Robson felt his muscles groan and snap, protesting against last night’s strenuous activity. Not that he minded. A few aches and pains were a small price to pay for the contentment he felt. His eyes still closed, he rolled over and felt around the bunk for Natalie, but after several seconds realized she wasn’t there. He opened his eyes and scanned the room, hoping to find her sleeping in another bunk. Although it was difficult to see anything in the dim light emanating from the fluorescent ceiling lights glowing in the corner, he saw that she had left. Glancing at his watch, he noticed it was almost five o’clock. He had slept the whole day away. No wonder Natalie had ducked out.
Robson slid out of bed. The floor felt unusually cold against his bare feet. But then this whole facility was cold and damp despite the central heating. Thank God they wouldn’t be spending too much time in this place. Bending over, he picked up his clothes scattered across the floor, putting them on piecemeal. Only when he grabbed his shirt that was tossed under the bunk opposite did he notice the message Natalie had left him. Robson smiled when he saw the 8mm shells from her Mauser arranged on the mattress in the shape of a heart.
After getting dressed and using the bathroom, Robson headed out, figuring he would drop by the security office to see where the others were. However, upon entering the admin building he was attracted by an aroma drifting from the mess hall that he had nearly forgotten about since the outbreak. Bacon, eggs, bread. And coffee. Real, freshly-brewed coffee. Robson didn’t care if a hundred rotters were laying in wait. He had to get some of that.
As he entered the mess hall, Robson noticed that most everyone else had the same idea. A majority of the raiding party was seated around the room, eating and chatting amongst themselves. Natalie sat with some of the Angels along a table by the wall. She raised her mug of coffee and blew him a kiss. A second group of Angels and Caylee congregated around another table, intent on a sheet of paper spread out in front of them, presumably the schedule for sitting watch. O’Bannon and Daytona huddled at a third table, laughing at a shared joke. Dravko’s crew was nowhere to be seen, which wasn’t surprising considering they ate in private. Nor did he see Compton or his people, which made him feel a bit uneasy.
He made his way through the cafeteria, exchanging friendly greetings with everyone as he headed for the counter. Ari came out of the kitchen. She wore a white cloth apron, its front spotted with food stains. She had pulled her hair up in a bun. Robson grabbed an empty plate and stepped up to the grill.
“Morning, boss.”
“Morning.” Robson held out his plate. “Man, it smells good.”
“Thanks. I used to be a short order cook at a run-down greasy spoon near where I went to college.”
“Were you any good at it?”
Ari shrugged as she spooned a mound of scrambled eggs into his plate, followed by two slices of toast and six strips of bacon. “It beats an MRE.”
“No argument here.” Robson took back the plate. He picked up a strip of bacon and popped it in his mouth. He had forgotten how good it tasted. “Where’d you find all this stuff?”
“In the freezer. The military has enough supplies in here to feed us for months.”
“Sounds as if you like it here.”
“Screw that. It’s like living in a mausoleum. But at least we’ll eat well.” Ari nodded to the end of the counter. “Coffee’s down there.”
“Thanks.” Robson grabbed a mug and headed for the dining area. He noticed Thompson entering the mess hall, walking slow and unsteady. Jennifer strolled along beside him. She kept pace with the colonel but didn’t help him, although Robson assumed she hovered close to go to his assistance if he needed it. The colonel shuffled down the mess hall, finally grabbing a seat at a table near the half-way point. He sat down hard on the bench, wincing in the process. Jennifer bent over to help him swing his legs under the table, but he politely waved her off. One at a time, and with considerable effort, Thompson positioned his legs until he faced inward. Jennifer gently patted him on the shoulder, spoke quietly to him, and then headed for the counter to get his breakfast. As she passed by Robson, she greeted him with a cheery hello.
Robson took his plate over to where Thompson sat and slid into the bench opposite him. “Good morning.”
“That’s a matter of opinion.” The colonel tried to say it good naturedly. He took a deep breath and blanched.
“What’s wrong?”
“The smell of the bacon is making me nauseous.”
“You don’t like bacon?”
“I love it. But right now my stomach doesn’t.”
Robson shifted along sideways a foot, hoping to distance the aroma from Thompson. “Compton says you’ll be fine. Just a minor concussion and some banged up muscles.”
“He told me the same thing. Doesn’t change the fact that right now my head’s throbbing and my stomach’s doing flops.”
“You’ll be fine in a day or two.” Robson scooped a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.
“I know. I just hate being on sick call when there’s so much to do.” Thompson leaned across the table. “What happened back in town?”
“Compton didn’t tell you?” asked Robson through a mouthful of food.
Thompson shook his head and winced.
“We were racing through Kenmar-Faxon. The place was overrun with rotters.”
“I remember that.”
“Our turn came up quickly. Dravko tried making it without slowing and flipped the armored car. You and Dravko got banged up pretty bad. You got a concussion. Dravko broke his arm, but at least it’ll regenerate quickly.”
“How did we get out?”
“Daytona pulled the school bus alongside and Tibor pulled us out.”
“Tibor?”
“Yeah.” Robson pushed another strip of bacon into his mouth.
“How many…? Did we lose anyone?”
“We lost Rashid. A rotter got between the bus and armored car. Rashid took it out, but the others got to him before we could save him.” Robson hesitated.
“Who else?”
“Mad Dog offed himself just before we entered Site R. While Compton was opening the rear gate near the housing area, he wandered off into one of the houses and shot himself.”
“Shit.” Thompson bowed his head and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “It was his house. He had left the compound to try and rescue his wife when we went into full lockdown. Poor bastard was stuck out there with all those rotters. It’s a miracle he made it to Maine.”
“He was a tough son of a bitch.”
“Tell me about it.”
“What was Mad Dog’s real name?”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
An uneasy silence passed between the two men, interrupted only when Jennifer arrived with a tray containing two plates of food and two cups of coffee. She placed the tray in front of Thompson, but did not notice him grimace.
“My God. Did you see the spread Ari cooked up?”
Robson raised a fork piled with scrambled eggs and slid it into his mouth. Thompson moaned and reached for one of the mugs.
“Just coffee for me.”
“You need to eat,” said Jennifer as she slid onto the bench beside him.
Thompson sighed and pulled the plate toward him. Picking up his fork, he swirled it around, pushing the eggs from one side to the other before finally taking a bite.
They ate and chatted idly. At least Robson and Jennifer did. Thompson spent most of his time rearranging his food, occasionally chewing on a small morsel of eggs or sipping at the coffee. Everyone else finished their meals and sauntered out of the dining hall in small groups, except for Natalie who joined them. After several minutes, Dravko and Tibor entered. The two vampires looked around and, spotting Robson, came over to the table.
As they approached, Thompson swung his legs over the bench and stood up to face them. Dravko slowed down and approached cautiously, with Tibor taking
up a position to the left and just behind him, neither certain what to expect. Even Robson was prepared to intercede if need be. The colonel made his way toward Tibor, his eyes locking on the vampire. As Thompson drew closer he stopped in front of Tibor and extended his hand.
“I heard you saved my life back there in town. Thank you.”
Tibor hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the gesture. He finally grasped the colonel’s hand in his own and gave it a single pump. “You’re welcome.”
“I mean it. I owe you.” Thompson released Tibor’s hand. “Excuse me, I have to go. It’s not the company. I just need to get some rest.”
“I’ll go with you.” Jennifer placed her utensils on the plate.
“I’m all right. You stay here.” Thompson gave them all a half-hearted wave and sauntered off.
Tibor watched Thompson leave, and then turned to the others. “That was weird.”
“Damn unusual,” added Dravko.
“At least he no longer considers you a threat.” Robson drank a large sip of coffee. “How’s the arm?’
“Great.” Dravko held up his arm and flexed it several times. “Good as new.”
“Glad to hear it. But I’m surprised to see you here. You usually don’t eat with us.”
“I know.” Dravko sat on the bench opposite Robson as Tibor stood behind him. “I just wanted to touch base on what the game plan is.”
Robson grinned. “In a hurry to leave?”
“Hell yeah. I’ll take my chances up top in the sunlight rather than stay stuck in this glorified coffin surrounded by rotters.”
“Amen to that,” chimed in Jennifer.
“We should only be here for two or three days at most. Just long enough for Compton to prepare some doses of the vaccine and create back-up files for his research.” Robson finished off his coffee. “Once that’s done, we’ll head back to camp.”
Tibor huffed. “That’s not very comforting considering what we went through to get here.”
“We can bypass the populated areas. One of the routes Windows offered to me skirted most of the major population centers by running farther to the north and west. Problem was it added several hundred miles and another day to our travel. Considering what we went through to get here, I think the detour is worth it.”
“No argument here,” said Dravko.
“Do we have enough gas left?” asked Tibor.
“We do now. Natalie and I walked through the facility after we arrived and took inventory. Military has this place well stocked, including hundreds of gallons of gasoline. We can refill the fifty-five gallon drums and load up with some spare jerry cans we found in the motor pool. That should give us more than enough to get home. Dravko, I’d like you and your people to take care of that.”
“Can do.”
Robson nodded. “We also found a lot of other supplies. Non-perishables, medicines, clothes. And enough ammo to equip a small army. I want to take that with us rather than just abandon it here. The Angels will start loading that onto the bus and truck.”
“What if Compton disapproves?” asked Dravko.
“Fuck him.” Robson suddenly remembered that Jennifer was seated with them and turned to her. “Sorry. Nothing personal against your boss.”
“No need to apologize,” said Jennifer. “I’ve thrown my lot in with you all.”
“That’s good to know.” Robson turned back to the others. “We also found two Hummers parked by the main entrance. Daytona’s going to check them out. If they’re in working condition, we’re taking them with us so we’ll have back-up if the bus or truck breaks down.”
“What about sitting watch with the security cameras?” asked Dravko.
Natalie leaned forward. “My girls and Daytona have volunteered to sit most of the shifts, so we’re covered on that front.”
“Are you sure?”
Natalie nodded. “Thanks, though.”
“Besides,” added Robson. “I need you and Tibor to load the vehicles with supplies. With your strength, you two can get it done in half the time we could.”
“You really want to get out of here, don’t you?” asked Dravko.
“You have no idea how badly. Once Compton has everything ready, we’ll hit the road.” Robson looked around at the others. “Okay, gang. Let’s rock.”
Chapter Forty-two
Thompson made his way from the mess hall to Compton’s office at an unusually slow pace. His hesitation derived not so much from his concussion and aching muscles, but because he needed time to contemplate. Even more so than the bumps and bruises to his body, his entire psyche had been dealt a resounding blow, one strong enough to change his way of thinking.
For his entire military career, which spanned almost thirty years, he had sworn to defend the United States against all enemies foreign and domestic. He had done so without hesitation, whether those enemies sat across from him on the Fulda Gap or the DMZ on the Korean Peninsula, roamed the streets of Mogadishu or Sarajevo, or hid out in the mountains of Afghanistan or in the Iraqi desert. Even after the outbreak of the virus, his enemies were clearly defined — the revenants and the vampires who had unleashed this horror on mankind. In those instances when he had to kill the enemy, he had been able to do so by dehumanizing them, mentally distancing them from their humanity by derisively viewing them as commies, gooks, or ragheads. Because they were not among the living, dehumanizing the revenants or bloodsuckers had been easy. Until now.
Upon first arriving at Fort McClary, he had been as taken aback as the doctor by the presence of vampires on the compound. He didn’t trust the bloodsuckers. Nor did he have much confidence in the humans for blindly putting their faith in them, feeling that Paul and the others had allowed the zombie apocalypse to cloud their better judgment and bring the enemy into their fold. It was why he went along with Compton when the doctor said that if Paul could not be entrusted to ensure the safety of what was left of the nation, then it was up to the two of them to do so. Yet the more time he spent with Robson’s team the more he came to realize that somehow this bizarre alliance worked. Despite there being only a handful of vampires left in the world, Elena had willingly banished one of her own to certain death to maintain the détente between the living and the undead. And rather than retaliate, which would have been the natural instinct, the vampires constantly put their lives on the line to protect the humans. Sultanic had become infected trying to save Whitehouse. And Tibor had risked being turned by revenants in order to rescue him from the armored car, despite his open hostility toward the vampires. Deep down Thompson knew that if the roles had been reversed, he would not have done the same.
The world had changed immeasurably in the past eight months. More importantly, so had his way of thinking.
Though the realization had been slow in coming, Thompson now knew that Compton was wrong to try and eliminate the vampires. The two of them had come up with a plan to dispose of them shortly after arriving at camp. Until today, he had every intention of carrying it out. Now his conscience could no longer allow it. He had to convince Compton to abandon the scheme, which would not be as easy as it sounded. Whenever the doctor got something stuck in his head, he pursued it with a single-minded determination. He still viewed the situation in black and white, refusing to see the shades of gray that had developed. Thompson had finally seen the truth, although to do so he nearly had to forfeit his life. If he talked to Compton, explained to him that the situation was not as clear cut as he himself had seen it only a few days ago, maybe he could convince the doctor to stand down. No one would argue that mankind had experienced almost total genocide thanks to the vampires. Yet that did not alter the fact that what Compton intended was no different. Whether it was four vampires or four billion humans, genocide was still genocide, and he would have no part in it.
Hopefully, he could convince Compton to see things the same way.
Thompson carefully planned out what he wanted to say, walking around the lab building several times until he felt confi
dent he had chosen the correct words. Once he had rehearsed his speech a dozen times, the colonel entered the building and headed for the main laboratory. As expected, he found Compton hard at work on the computer, burning his notes onto CD-ROMs. Summoning his courage, Thompson opened the door and stepped inside.
Compton was so engrossed in his work he did not hear him enter. The colonel knocked on the open door. “May I come in?”
Compton glanced over his shoulder briefly before turning back to the computer. “Please.”
Thompson closed the door behind him and crossed the lab until he stood behind the doctor. “How much more do you have to do?”
“Not much. The last batch of vaccines is incubating now. In the meantime, I’ve been transferring my files to four CD-ROMs and two thumb drives. You and I can each carry a thumb drive, and I’ll give the CD-ROMs to Robson and his people. That should give us enough back-up copies to make sure at least one of them gets to Omaha.” Compton looked up at Thompson. A look of concern shone on his face. He spun his chair around to face the colonel. “How are you feeling?”
“Better than yesterday.”
“Are you still in pain?”
“A little, but nothing the drugs can’t manage. Why? Don’t I look well?”
“You look well enough. You just seem distracted.”
“I am. But not by the pain.” Thompson took a deep breath to steady his nerves. He pulled out a chair from the adjacent work station, turned it to face Compton, and sat down. “I wanted to talk about your plans for the vampires.”
Compton looked out of the corner of his eye to the security camera. The tiny red light glowed, signifying it was not transmitting. He leaned closer to the colonel and lowered his voice. “Everything’s set. Once we inoculate Robson and the others, then we’ll take care of the vampires.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about. I think we should reconsider.”
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