The Dead Series (Book 2): Dead Is All You Get
Page 24
“What makes you so sure this is the horde that attacked us?” Pederman said.
“I’m making a reasonable assumption that it was. We have video of a bunch of these things approaching the high school. I can dig it up if—”
“No, I believe you. But how in hell do you get a couple hundred of these things to follow you?”
“Easy. You use a carrot instead of a stick.” The team leader stood. “This morning, I learned that one of our patrols found an abandoned truck out by the railroad tracks.”
“The suspense is killing me,” I said.
“There was a half-eaten body chained to the tailgate.”
“The carrot,” Warnick said.
“Time for another visit to Robbin-Sear,” Pederman said and walked out.
There was still plenty of daylight as we rode out to Robbin-Sear, hoping to discover what the mayor, Walt Freeman and the rest had in mind for Tres Marias. I believed in my dream, where Jim had laid it all out. I knew it was my own mind talking, but it made sense to me. There would be no way to return things to normal without wiping the slate clean and burning the evidence. Towns can be repopulated. Over time, people forget. After a generation, it never happened. Or the story morphs into a new urban legend. Horrible chemical spill kills the good people of Tres Marias. Cleanup crew is sent in. Danger is removed. Medals are awarded. End of story.
When we got there we found the gate open. Not a good sign. Many of the buildings had sustained damaged during the shootout with the cops. We would have to comb through each one. Our squad got to work. It would take us the rest of the day. Fortunately, we didn’t encounter any draggers. As we explored the property, we found two incinerators behind the main building. I opened one of them. It was still warm inside and was filled with fine ash and the partially burned remains of what might have been lab animals. Pederman directed operations but mainly stuck with our squad. After two hours, someone from the other squad came running.
“What did you find?” Pederman said.
The soldier led us to a far building that resembled a ranger’s cabin. The front was beautifully manicured, with a green lawn and flowerbeds. A sign over the door read RECREATION ROOM.
“This grass isn’t real,” Holly said. “And neither are those flowers.”
“What’s in there?” Pederman said, indicating the building.
The soldier walked over and opened the door, showing us the interior. “There are some ping pong tables, pool tables and some other stuff. A kitchen. All brand new. Looks like it’s for show. We think the entrance is somewhere over here.” He and another soldier got down on their hands and knees near the edge of the lawn and felt around with their hands. We moved in to see what they were looking for. “Here!”
Pederman knelt down and stuck his hand in. “It’s a latch.” Then to the rest of us, “Spread out and look for a control box.”
After a few minutes Griffin jumped up and down, causing Greta to start barking. “Over here!”
Fabian patted her head playfully. “Good job, guera.”
We joined them and saw a green plastic box in one of the planters. It reminded me of an irrigation timer. Warnick popped it open. Inside was a single switch. Before pressing it, he turned to the rest of us. “You might want to get off that lawn.”
Warnick waited for us to move and pressed the button. Somewhere a motor whirred as the entire lawn lowered several inches and retracted underneath the ground we were standing on. The hole it left was dark and looked to be around twenty feet to the bottom. Another motor kicked in, and a metal platform ascended. When it reached the surface, flush with the ground, it stopped with a clunk.
“Hydraulic,” Springer said.
Below, a series of lights snapped on in sequence. A metal post stood in the corner of the platform with three buttons—DOWN, UP and EMERGENCY STOP. Pederman signaled for our squad to get aboard.
“The rest of you continue searching,” he said. He pointed at a few men nearby. “I want you four to remain here, in case we’re attacked. Use your radios.”
Taking the dog, we got on the platform and Springer hit the DOWN button. I wondered if the lower level ran the entire length and breadth of the property. We found, offices, supply rooms and labs—one hermetically sealed and secured by an electronic lock system. Next to the keypad on the wall, a sign read STOP! PERSONAL PROTECTIVE EQUIPMENT REQUIRED BEYOND THIS POINT! Inside lay dozens of trays marked RS-6160. All empty. We continued past it.
It took us a while to make our way through. Up ahead we discovered an area filled with Plexiglas cells resembling the ones in the isolation facility. Against one wall a strange-looking machine with a hole in the center faced us. The hole looked big enough for a man’s head. Around it stood computerized displays and controls and next to it, some kind of console. There was something familiar about the contraption—I couldn’t quite place it. Then it hit me.
When Jim went missing, I searched for him at his house. As I learned later, this was after Creasy took him and kept him prisoner at Robbin-Sear. After Jim escaped and found his way home, he got drunk and built a bizarre-looking sculpture out of beer bottles and iron rebar that resembled the machine I was staring at. Had they done something to him using this contraption? I remembered Larry telling us they used a machine to induce fear in test subjects. Was this what he’d been talking about?
A memory I must have suppressed flooded my brain. Right before the car crash, Jim had spoken to me. Dave, I need to tell you something. It was the last thing he would ever say to me. If we hadn’t crashed, he might have told me what happened to him. It took till now for me to remember that he’d tried.
“Over here!”
It was Holly’s voice. We ran to where she was standing. There in a Plexiglas cell stood the body of Bob Creasy, lashed to a wall with electrical wire. In the cells on either side of him stood Larry and Judith Evans. Each was shot through the head at close range. From the looks of it, they’d been there a while. Greta sniffed one of the cells and growled.
“Protocol,” I said.
We found nothing else of interest. If there was another secret facility, we were no closer to finding it than when we started. As the sky darkened, we rode the platform up and closed the entrance.
Warnick gazed at our surroundings. “They must have been keeping draggers in those cells, experimenting on them.”
“And training them to come after us,” Springer said.
Holly leaned her head against my shoulder. “Another dead end.”
“Our only option is to talk to the cops,” Pederman said.
I put my arm around my wife. “You can start with Hannity. I’m sure he’s dying to tell you everything.”
HANNITY DIDN’T FEEL LIKE TALKING. We sat around a table in one of the conference rooms at the isolation facility—everyone except Warnick and Springer, who stood with weapons in hand in case he decided to try anything.
Pederman scooted his chair in close and spoke in a low, even voice laced with honey instead of the acid I would have gone for. “Tell me everything,” he said. The cop wasn’t buying today.
“It’s too late.” Hannity had this annoying habit of looking up and to the right whenever he responded. I wanted to smack him.
“Are innocent people’s lives at stake?”
“Everyone’s life is at stake. Innocent or not.”
“The mayor and deputy mayor are gone. I want you to tell me where they’re headed.”
“And I want a pony.” He looked at Greta. “Nice dog.”
“Dammit, Hannity!” Pederman said, striking the table with the flat of his hand. “Don’t you care that more people are going to die? Do you even have a shred of a conscience? What in hell kind of human being lets innocent people—women and children—die?”
Avoiding Pederman’s eyes, Hannity glared at the rest of us, his expression defiant. I couldn’t make him. Was he really the son of a bitch he pretended to be, or was this an act? Then as if on cue, he seemed to deflate. “I’m dead anyway
,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.
Pederman leaned in close, looking at him intently. “So you might as well tell us.”
Lowering his head, the cop sighed. At first I thought he was chuckling like a madman. Then, unexpectedly, he broke down. Pederman gave him a minute. “The experiment isn’t over,” he said in a voice that wasn’t his. “They moved everything out of Tres Marias. They’re planning to start it up again somewhere else.”
“We know that,” I said. “Where?”
“I don’t know. But they transferred everything to Mt. Shasta.”
“What’s there?” Pederman said, glancing at me.
“Another secret facility.”
“You mean, like a lab or—”
“Yes, a laboratory.”
“Does Robbin-Sear own it?”
“No. It belongs to the Department of Defense.”
“How do we find it?”
“Go to the Lake Shasta Caverns. You can’t miss it.”
“What kind of crap are you selling, Hannity?” I said. “That’s a tourist destination.”
Hannity glared at me. “Part of the land is owned by the U.S. Department of Agriculture.”
“Yeah? What are they growing in there, marijuana?”
“This experiment,” Warnick said. “What are they planning to do?”
“What else? Keep it going. Until they achieve what they set out to do.”
“Which is what?” Pederman said.
Hannity shook his head and smiled. “Create the perfect soldier. Come on, it’s what every nation on the planet wants. A soldier who won’t die if shot, won’t freak out in combat. Who will kill on command and still be a nice guy at home with his kids.”
Pederman turned to us. For a second I thought I saw fear in his eyes. I felt it too. We already knew the story—we’d seen the video. Now it was confirmed. He spoke to Hannity again. “Tres Marias was a testing ground, isn’t that right?”
“Not at first. Look, I don’t know the history. What I do know is, they’d been working on the project for years. We had a meeting with that guy Creasy one time.”
“Yeah, he’s dead,” I said.
“He was a real piece of work. Told us they tried a test run in Guatemala. Some no-name village somewhere. But it failed. Horribly. So they shut it down.”
“And how did they do that?” Holly said.
“The protocol. It called for gassing everyone in the town—including the livestock—and burning the bodies.”
“So what about Tres Marias?” Pederman said.
“It was an accident. The virus was never supposed to be released here. They were planning another test in some godforsaken hellhole in a faraway country. But it escaped into the wild. People became infected. While everyone else was freaking out, Creasy was drooling. He acted like it was a dream come true. Personally, I think he was mentally unbalanced. He had the protocol from the last time and decided to go for it.”
Even though I had already guessed everything Hannity was saying, hearing him tell it shook me to the core. I thought of the lost lives, the suffering. I wanted to put a bullet into Hannity—more to make someone pay than to punish him. As much as I hated him, I knew it wasn’t his fault. Everything had been put into motion long before he and the other cops had come on the scene.
“Creasy sold everyone else on the idea—including the mayor. He could be very persuasive when he was smacked.”
“Which is why we were brought in instead of the National Guard,” Warnick said.
“Creasy couldn’t risk getting another agency involved. Too many players already.”
“What did the mayor get out of this?” Warnick said. “I mean, with the risk …”
Hannity laughed. “You don’t know? They promised him a governorship.”
“What?” Holly said. “They can do that?”
“You people have no idea how much money is involved. If Robbin-Sear perfects the virus and is able to provide it to every branch of the US military, they have a contract for life. And billions of dollars.”
“How do you know all this, Hannity?” Pederman said.
“Because I made it my business to know.”
“Just so I understand. You guys were brought in as extra muscle. To ensure everything went according to plan.”
“Pretty much.”
“And what are we? Window dressing?”
“The mayor couldn’t very well have the Sheriff’s Department running things openly. And I already explained why the National Guard was out. So it had to be you. Like the song.”
“So why in hell did the mayor take away our authority?”
“That was always the plan. But he needed to accelerate it when they decided to relocate the operation.”
“‘They?’”
“Like you and me, the mayor has his orders.”
“Meaning?”
“Figure it out, boss.”
Pederman was impatient. “So what about those guys in the black Escalades?”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t mess with them.”
“What made you decide to come clean?” I said.
Hannity became dead serious, his voice quiet. “Did you not see what they did to Creasy and those two researchers? Everyone is expendable.”
“So basically, you want to save your ass.”
“Don’t you? Look, despite what you think of me, I don’t want to be responsible for any more lost lives. Believe or not, I care about this country. What they’re doing isn’t right.”
“Stop,” I said. “You don’t care about this country or this town or the innocent people in the command center who are about to die. Did they at least give you stock options?”
Hannity got to his feet, probably to belt me. “I don’t have to take this—I’m trying to help you!”
Warnick stepped between us. “That’s enough. What happens to Tres Marias?”
Giving me a look, Hannity sat down again. “Oh, I think you know.”
“How?” I said. I couldn’t even look the miscreant in the eye.
“They’ll use a nerve agent like Sarin but one that decays faster. It’ll kill everyone who isn’t infected. After that, a cleanup crew will come in and incinerate the bodies. They’ll use the drones to find any remaining infected and neutralize them. They’re hoping to wrap things up by Christmas.”
“How can they get away with that?” Holly said.
Hannity looked at her sideways. “Are you kidding me right now? They already did. How do you think they cleaned up Mt. Shasta? And the other communities that were infected?”
“But not everyone in Mt. Shasta was killed,” I said.
“That operation was targeted. They can turn the dial up or down—whatever the situation calls for. In the case of Tres Marias, it will be a total reset.” He went on, relishing his insider knowledge. “Once everyone is dead, they’ll put the press in protective clothing and invite them in to observe the cleanup.”
“That makes sense,” Warnick said. “They need witnesses. The media will assume that the dead were victims of the virus. They’ll cheer the incineration.”
Hannity smiled. “It’s really not that hard to manipulate the media.”
A long silence hung in the air like low-lying smoke from a chemical fire. Hannity had pretty much confirmed what I already knew. Tres Marias was dying, and someone was about to deliver the coup de grâce.
“How much time do we have?” Pederman said.
“Operation Guncotton is set to commence at midnight.”
“Why ‘Guncotton’?” Warnick said.
“You ever watch a magician use flash paper? Same thing. It flashes brightly for an instant. Then it’s gone.”
Pederman checked his watch. We had less than six hours to save over six hundred people. I wasn’t confident we’d get it done. But I wasn’t military. If anyone could pull it off, these guys could. “We’d better get moving,” he said.
“What do we do with this guy and the others?” Springer said.
Hannity scanned the room, the arrogance gone. “Yeah. I don’t want to die here.”
Pederman radioed the command center. The plan was to bring in Hannity and the other police officers and immediately begin evacuation preparations. We’d already lost one of our helicopters and would have to rely mostly on ground transportation. This was a true military exercise, and everyone had a job to do. I knew my best bet was to follow Warnick and Springer’s lead, and make sure Holly, Griffin and Fabian stayed close. No time for useless questions. We only had a few hours to move.
Once we were back at the command facility, we met briefly in the conference room in the administration building. As Pederman gave out orders, people came and went quickly. The process was dizzyingly efficient. Hannity told the rest of the cops to cooperate, or they’d be dead. No one argued.
The plan called for giving priority to the civilians, including those from the hospital. Get them out of Tres Marias to a safe place. Isaac joined us and coordinated the medical activities. He’d brought with him the medical personnel from the hospital and any remaining patients. After studying maps of the area, we agreed to take the civilians to the National Guard armory in Redding. They would be safe there till they could be relocated to temporary housing, which Black Dragon would arrange once we were in communication with the outside world again.
Our second priority was to evacuate the rest of our people before midnight. There was a risk that outsiders could come into the town once our checkpoints were abandoned—or worse, that draggers could get out. But there were no other option. So we went with the plan.
I had my own third priority. But when I asked about the Lake Shasta Caverns, Pederman ordered me to stand down. It wasn’t our concern anymore. He believed investigations would be launched and eventually the truth would come out. That plan didn’t sit well with me. I wanted the mayor and everyone associated with him to be caught, tried and punished. But that was me.