by Mark Lingane
“There’s a cure,” Thomas repeated, as though in a trance.
Sebastian watched the man’s face morph from defeat to hope. The process seemed to cause him pain. “Yes. I promise you. We just need to get word back across the void to Australia that you need the antidote. By now, they might’ve made an even stronger one.”
Thomas staggered back against the wall. His face disappeared into the shadows.
“Okay, Thomas,” Brad said, taking charge. “Sebastian says there’s a cure and we can try to get it here, but it’s not going to help anyone in the meantime if we just stand around threatening each other. We need to secure the region.”
“But there’s no protection against the infected,” Thomas said. “They’re unstoppable.”
“Well—” Sebastian started, but was interrupted by Brad.
“Because of our ongoing conflict, in the Forty-ninth we have a very strong defense system around the city that’s never been breached. It consists of several rings, one within the other, built over generations. We’ve survived everything that’s been thrown at us. We can keep these infected out too, but we can’t if the gates are open. We need to restore power, shut the gates, and set up defense perimeters. We can do this, Thomas. Together.”
In one quick movement, Brad lowered his rifle and raised his hands. “Please.”
Thomas stared into his eyes. “No.” He cocked his weapon.
Sebastian sighed. It was quickly spinning into a no-win situation. He blinked. There was a whining sound and the weapons were ripped out of everyone’s hands. They clattered to the floor. Then the pain hit him and he staggered back against the wall, clutching his head.
Brad looked stunned. “How the devil …”
“I’m a tesla,” Sebastian said through gritted teeth.
“You said that before.”
“Now you know. I have a magnetic personality. Just go with it.” The pain ebbed away until he was able to stand straight again. “Okay, this is what we should do. We lock up all the weapons, band together, both sides, get the power started, build a defense, sort out the antidote, and kill all the infected.”
There was an explosion of outrage as the soldiers voiced their opinions about having to surrender their weapons. The atmosphere became electric as threats and accusations were hurled back and forth. The tension mounted until the shouting reached a crescendo, and the soldiers lunged at each other.
“Or, I drop this grenade.” Memphis held the grenade in the air.
All eyes turned toward her, many soldiers in mid punch.
“As I said before,” Thomas said, “that would be a better way to go.” His face was full of contempt for her.
“Fine.” She stepped forward and rammed the grenade down the front of his shirt.
Everyone ran for cover. Thomas furiously patted his chest, struggling to get a grip on the grenade. He fell to his knees, trembling. Memphis stepped up and plucked it out. She showed him that the pin was still in it.
“I didn’t think so,” she said. “I suggest we stick with Wonderboy’s plan.”
Thomas stood up, still shaking. “If that’s the way you want to play it. No weapons, understand?”
There was general whispering until finally a consensus was reached. Soldiers on both sides kept looking at Sebastian. Weapons were piled up in the middle of the floor.
“Fine. But we want Sebastian handcuffed,” Brad said.
“We were going to demand the same thing,” Thomas replied.
The two men stood staring at each other.
In the end, Thomas broke. “Do you swear, as a soldier, he has nothing to do with you?”
“Yes,” Brad said. “You said yourself that he attacked us.”
“Can we just move on from that?” Sebastian said.
As the soldiers were about to move out, there was another round of bickering and aggravation, until the reality sank in that there was no way forward unless they all agreed. They had argued past the point of exasperation, and the leaders pulled rank. Sebastian thought the level of distrust in the room could have been cut with a knife.
Brad and Thomas exited the relay station, and everyone else filed out after them. The soldiers squeezed through the narrow doorway, glancing suspiciously at each other, and trying not to touch.
Will and Edward were last out. Will gave Edward a nod. Edward scooped up several pistols and slipped them into his pack.
Left behind in the relay station was a pile of weapons that quickly became covered in hundreds of spiders. Within minutes, the weapons had disappeared beneath a thick layer of web, and vegetation started to collect.
The combined group headed toward the hilltop with Brad and Thomas in the lead.
“Did Sebastian really launch that attack on us on his own?” Brad asked Thomas.
“Yes,” Thomas said. “A rocket was launched at them and Sebastian threw up this kind of … protective shield. It was light blue, and the rocket smashed against it. Then he stood up, waved his hands, and your chopper came crashing down. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Brad hacked through a jumble of vines. “He hasn’t done anything like that while he’s been with us. But he has an incredible vehicle he calls a steambike. Did you get a chance to look at it?”
“Not properly. They were on foot when we caught them, although they managed to escape on it.” Thomas snorted. “I don’t know how it survived the crash, because the zeppelin was completely destroyed.”
The soldier who had been silently tracking the group rubbed his nose. The crushed-up crisis he snorted up his nostrils created a burning itch. He looked down at the blood on his hand and wiped the evidence on his stolen fatigues. No one knew about the small pistol he kept concealed in an internal pocket. The weight of the weapon felt comfortable and gave him confidence.
He watched the other soldiers as they walked ahead through the trees and looked for his next target.
25
THE GROUP SET up camp to wait for daylight. A complicated roster was drawn up and posts established, looking in as well as out, since neither side trusted the other. A small fire was soon glowing in the cold night air, smoke billowing, and they all huddled around it.
One of the Chargers brought out his ration pack. “Who organizes these packs?” he said in disgust. “Anyone like some dried seaweed?”
“Yeah,” said a Forty-niner. “I grew up on it. I’ll trade.”
Lists of ingredients were exchanged, and the two struck a deal. They rapidly, but suspiciously, swapped rations.
Brad wandered around the perimeter, checking the first watch. He had a gut feeling that something wasn’t right. He counted his own men and went to Thomas.
“How many men do you have?”
“Eight.”
“With my twelve that should total twenty. I just counted nineteen. Come with me and double-check.”
Thomas got up and the two made their way through the assembled men. The mist was thick and the night was dark, slowing them down.
“How many did you count?” Brad said.
“Nineteen.”
“Do you have confidence in all your men?”
Thomas sighed. “I’m not sure about anything anymore.”
“Let’s get them lined up.”
Thomas shouted out a command and the men roused themselves drowsily.
Brad picked up an odd sound just past the closest trees. He thought he saw a shadow move. He stared into the darkness. The space appeared still and quiet. He turned back to the men and caught what sounded like a muffled laugh. He turned back and followed the sound through the trees until he reached a small clearing several yards from the camp. He scanned the area. He heard the rustling of a small animal. He shrugged and turned back to the camp.
He stopped. There was that sound again: a muffled laugh.
He looked at the men assembled by the fire. They were all occupied. He turned and made his way back toward the sound. He heard the footsteps. He saw the soldier’s outline against the glow o
f the campfire. The light bounced off something silver in the man’s hand.
Brad raised his hands slowly. “What’s going on, soldier?”
“You don’t know what’s coming.” The statement was followed by a disconnected laugh. “What a deal.”
“Is that what—”
The sound of gunfire boomed out over the valley. Brad collapsed. The soldier disappeared into the trees.
Men ran from every direction. When they saw Brad lying on the ground, blood pouring from his shoulder, accusations started flying, and the situation quickly escalated. The two sides leaped at each other, swinging and tackling each other.
Thomas shouted, but no one was listening. He ran after one of his men and tripped over a 49th backpack, spilling the contents—a medipack and a pistol. He grabbed the pistol, knocked off the safety, and fired into the air. The men went quiet.
“We have an interesting situation,” Thomas called out. “We had an agreement about no weapons, yet two have now been discovered. Sebastian and Memphis, see to Brad. The rest of you, line up. We’re going to see exactly who is who.”
The men were slow to respond. Thomas fired another shot. They moved. He counted along the line. All of the 49th Division soldiers were there, but he was missing one of his Chargers.
“Clint, we’re down a man,” he said. “Who is it?”
Clint quickly scanned the Charger team. “Dom, sir.”
“Where is he?”
“His pack’s still here.”
“Search it,” Thomas commanded.
Clint upended the pack and went through it. He uncovered a stash of crisis and a tiny radio transmitter. He handed them to Thomas.
Thomas crushed the receiver in his hand, fury on his face. He walked over to where Memphis and Sebastian were attending to Brad. Memphis was stitching the wound. He sat down next to them.
“Do you want the good news or the bad?” he asked Brad.
“Is there ever any good news?” Brad replied.
“We had a traitor. One of my men had a transmitter in his pack. I can only assume, due to the drugs we also found, that he was an outlaw insider.”
“What’s the good news?” Brad said.
“That was the good news. The bad news is that we also found a pistol in one of your men’s packs.”
“We didn’t learn much today, did we?”
“We didn’t learn anything beyond what we already knew.”
“You’re a cynical man.” Brad winced against the pain.
“I need to address this firearm I found belonging to your man. See if it was deliberately hidden or not.”
Brad nodded his permission and lay back on the ground. His shoulder throbbed. Memphis did a final check on the bandaging and went to wash her hands.
Thomas located the owner of the pack. “You’re a receiver?”
Edward grunted.
“What’s the story with the firearm? We said no weapons.”
Edward grunted again and refused to look at the Charger center.
Thomas grabbed Edward’s face and turned it toward him. “You need to learn some respect, soldier.”
“Get off me. Your side had a weapon too.”
“But that came from our traitor. What’s your excuse? In future, when your commanding officer gives you an order, you follow it. You fail to do that, we call it mutiny.” He grabbed Edward by his bicep and squeezed, driving him to the ground. “Understand?”
Edward nodded.
“By the way, thank you for disobeying the order. If it wasn’t for you, we’d all be in a whole heap of trouble.” He let him go.
Edward looked up at Thomas in confusion. The only thing he could think of doing was rubbing his arm.
“What you’ve got to learn is when to follow and when to be a rebel,” Thomas said. “Good luck. Get that right and you’ll be a great leader.”
Clint had watched Thomas’s actions with a look of disgust on his face, until he couldn’t bear it anymore. He strode over to Thomas.
“Can I have a word with you, Center?”
“Yes.”
Clint led Thomas away from the others. “Are you sure you can trust these Forty-niners? They’ve been our enemy for generations. To us, they’re monsters.”
“Look at them. Do they look like monsters to you? We’re in a different situation now, and it requires different thinking. We’re shifting from war to politics.”
“Surely you’re not thinking of believing them, sir. Think of everyone who’s died at the Forty-ninth’s monstrous hands.”
“This is the world we live in now, and joining forces is our best chance of survival.”
“I strongly,” Clint said, twitching, “strongly protest over this.” He presented an aggressive stance toward his commander. Without thinking, he raised his fist.
Thomas took a step back.
“We didn’t sign up for this mission to collaborate with scum,” Clint said.
“You’re out of your league, soldier. I suggest you keep quiet about what you don’t understand.”
“What I understand, sir, is that you’re betraying us.”
Thomas had had enough. He stepped up to the young man and puffed out his chest. The two stood face to face, nearly touching. Clint twitched. Thomas was a bigger man with a fierce determination, and he was a tough person to read. In the quiet, away from the rest of the men, Clint’s nerve buckled, and he stepped back.
“I’m going to report this to Q-backer Baxter,” Clint said. “You know why I’m here.”
Thomas narrowed his eyes at the younger man. “Your comments are not welcome at this time. From this point on, you’re relieved of your responsibilities. Join the others.”
Clint was shocked by Thomas’s words. “The other men won’t be happy either.”
“The other men will do as they’re told. Dismissed,” Thomas replied coldly.
Clint returned to the group. He sat down heavily. The other Chargers looked at him. He shook his head.
“What do we do now?” said one of the men. “It’s wrong to be involved with the Forty-ninth.”
“We wait,” Clint replied quietly. “Continue the deception.”
“What about Dom?”
“It was a risk. He might still be useful.”
The Chargers nodded with grim faces.
26
THOMAS WENT OVER to Brad, where Memphis was watching him closely. He was disappointed to see the 49th center unconscious. He went back to the men and gave a command. The combined troops assembled in front of him.
“Men, we’ve had a tough day, all of us, emotionally and physically. Center Williams is down, restricting our ability to defend ourselves in a clearly vulnerable area. We’re all in danger until we can get back and get on with the mission.”
There were groans of frustration.
“How long until we can move?” one soldier called out.
“We can’t move with a man down,” said Will.
“You seem to be our medic,” Thomas said to Memphis. “Have you had much training?” She barely looked like an adult to him.
“About ten years.”
He gave her an incredulous stare. “How bad is the wound?”
“It was a small-caliber round, and it didn’t penetrate too deeply. Give him a day and he should be able to move.”
“If that’s the case, we bunker down and keep safe until Center Williams can walk. Don’t forget, men, we have a killer out there with an unknown agenda. We don’t know who he’s in league with or why he’s doing this.”
There was a chorus of dissent from the 49th soldiers. Thomas pulled them back into line.
“Will, can you organize a roster?” he said, deliberately choosing a man from the 49th in an attempt to build trust between the two forces. “Focus on outward sentries only. We know this man has limited range and a small-caliber weapon. His name is Dom. I thought he was trustworthy. I knew his father, but allegiance and duty no longer have meaning for him. He wants to kill. Let the fire burn down
, and no one goes close to the trees until the sun rises. Everyone stay safe, and keep your game heads on.”
They all bedded down for the night, just out of the light of the small fire. A gentle rain began to fall, hissing as it landed on the embers. An eerie silence descended over the camp, punctuated by the occasional pop from the fire.
Sebastian could feel the tension between the men. The distrust was palpable and it made him feel sick. He couldn’t sleep, so he crawled over to Memphis. “How am I doing as a bodyguard now?”
She gave him a very unimpressed stare.
“You’re not dead,” he pointed out.
“Yet.”
“Well, we’re all not dead yet. Do you want to play eye spy?”
“Are you insane?” she whispered. “We’re trapped in the forest, being hunted by a drugged-up psycho, surrounded by a bunch of meatheads, and none of them is good looking.” She stopped in despair and let out a sigh of defeat. “All right, but I go first.”
She got angry about such things as “shadows” and “reflected moonlight,” and she hit him after the fourth consecutive mention of “trees.” But she eventually broke and started giggling at his efforts, which were often confused by poor spelling.
“Quiet, you two,” grumbled one of the men.
They glanced at each other and sniggered, cupping their hands over their mouths.
The morning came. Brad stirred. He was on his good side, facing the cold fire. The men were still asleep, except for the two on watch. Memphis was awake. He watched her. She was staring at the slumbering Sebastian, on her face an expression halfway between infatuation and duplicity. He had a bad feeling about her.
He rolled onto his back. The pain stabbed into him. He examined the bandages. Blood was weeping through the white material, but the dressing looked good otherwise. He tried to remember the man’s face. His features had been twisted. He’d had the disconnected look of a war junkie. Brad knew he had infiltrated the Chargers and fooled everyone, and now he wondered about his own men.