H7N9: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

by Campbell, Mark

  A fiery knot formed in Teddy’s throat and he felt raging tears well in his eyes. “Those goddamn bastards,” he said furiously. “They can’t do that… Those people didn’t do anything to them.”

  Roger stopped walking and turned to face Teddy.

  “Be easy… keep your voice down,” Roger said quietly. He raised his hands and attempted to calm him down as if he were a wild animal poised to strike the nearest living thing. “I’m sorry… They normally do this somewhere out of view.”

  “I don’t give a shit where they do it—this is wrong!” Teddy exclaimed. His voice caught the attention of two officers who were idly chatting near the tunnel’s exit.

  “Is there a problem over here?” one of the officers, a young man with his gasmask tucked under his arm, asked.

  Teddy ignored the question and kept glaring at the execution line as if that was answer enough.

  The officer, annoyed, drew his truncheon and started advancing towards him slowly.

  “Teddy…” Roger said in an unsteady voice. “We have to go.”

  Over at the firing line, the officers raised their rifles at the civilians and waited as two more people were led from the side of the building towards the others.

  A woman and a young girl, both bound and gagged, were shoved into the sick crowd.

  Teddy’s eyes widened—it was the same two he had tried to help not even ten minutes earlier. “No!” he exclaimed in a feral rage, but it was too late.

  The crack of automatic gunfire reverberated across the courtyard and sent crows fleeing from their perches.

  The group of sick civilians jolted and then collapsed into lifeless heaps on the grass.

  Teddy felt his muscles tense. An overwhelming urge to run towards the group of executioners washed over him.

  Roger grabbed him by the shoulder and shook him firmly.

  Teddy, adrenaline surging, looked over at him with wild eyes and unsteady pupils.

  “Get yourself together, hoss,” Roger said.

  Teddy, heart still racing, looked over at the approaching officer who carried a truncheon in his hand.

  “I asked if there was a problem here!” the officer snarled.

  “None at all,” Roger said with a smile. “My new coworker here is just getting orientated—he came in last night.”

  Teddy looked at Roger in a daze and his rational mind slowly emerged out of the hazy delirium of seething rage.

  The officer stopped and lowered his weapon, shaking his head. “Then your coworker best orientate himself towards the bus before I bash his fucking head in!”

  “Yes, sir,” Roger said with a nod. He led Teddy away by his arm for several feet before he tore free.

  “I can walk,” Teddy snipped. “I’m fine.”

  “You sure weren’t fine back there.” Roger frowned. “What in the hell were you going to do? Take them all down with your bare hands?”

  Teddy gave a heavy sigh. “I… don’t know what I was thinking… I just wasn’t prepared to see that.”

  “Get used to it, sunshine. I already told you once—nothing good lasts for long in this world anymore.”

  Both men walked in silence with the others towards the bus.

  Vue stood waiting at the bus doors and collected the reflective vests and flashlights as the workers trickled back on.

  Parham stood nearby watching with hooded eyes—his gaze fixated on Teddy. There was something about Teddy that aggravated him, but he couldn’t place his finger on it.

  It was his face, Parham figured; he had seen it before, but from where?

  Before FEMA amalgamated his agency into theirs, Parham was a shift supervisor for the Transportation Security Agency. Thousands upon thousands of faces used to pass by his gaze every single day, so what made Teddy Sanders bother him so goddamn much?

  He couldn’t figure it out and the longer he ruminated on it the angrier he became.

  Was it the man’s lack of respect?

  Parham’s eyes widened slightly as an answer came to him.

  No, it wasn’t about respect at all, he thought with sudden clarity—what bothered him was the man’s lack of fear.

  A man who knew no fear was dangerous, he knew.

  Yes, very dangerous indeed.

  Eventually, and soon, he knew that he would have to break him.

  Still, as Teddy approached, Parham noticed the man’s crestfallen expression. It was clear that Teddy had a bad day and somehow that brought him a sadistic tinge of pleasure.

  A shallow smile formed across Parham’s lips, but Teddy didn’t notice.

  Teddy took off his vest and approached Vue.

  “Remember what I said about talking,” Vue warned him as he collected his vest.

  Sure, Teddy remembered, and normally he would’ve come up with a snarky response, but he didn’t feel like talking and didn’t think he’d be doing much of it on the bus.

  Teddy lowered his head and trudged up the steps.

  Salguero sat at the driver’s seat and chuckled when he saw Teddy enter. “Look at this cupcake’s sour little face,” he announced to nobody in particular. “I was right—he won’t last a week.”

  Roger, walking in front, tensed; expecting Teddy to react the way he always seemed to react.

  Teddy, however, didn’t take the bait and kept walking.

  The men took their seats and after a few more minutes the security grille was locked and the bus was headed away from Topeka and back towards the camp.

  During the long bus ride, everyone in the back was silent.

  Up front, Vue kept yammering on about some old television show and Salguero reminisced about hunting deer back home in North Carolina. Occasionally the good sergeant cut-in with tales of his sexual conquests which seemed as fabricated as a Charles Dickens novel.

  Teddy glanced out of his makeshift peephole only once and saw a shallow mass grave that had been dug out next to a rural Wal-Mart’s parking lot. Derelict trailers, abandoned excavators, and dump trucks were stationed around the pit which were full to the brim with skeletal corpses.

  Teddy wondered if things would ever get any better—he had witnessed enough death and despair to last him ten lifetimes. He decided to keep his tired gaze at the seatback in front of him.

  He felt Roger glancing over at him from time to time, no doubt wondering if he was okay.

  In truth, he wasn’t okay.

  He was tired of death.

  He was tired of loss.

  All he could think about was saving Ein and getting the fuck out of this awful place.

  Maybe Roger could find some uneasy peace by playing house with men who masqueraded as federal officers working for an agency that had stopped existing months ago, but Teddy sure as hell couldn’t.

  CHAPTER 8

  Teddy walked along the footpath between the dormitories. The crisp air had turned bone-chillingly cold as dusk approached and cleared out most of the vendors and residents who may have been loitering inside the makeshift tent cities in the alleyways. Those who remained outside took refuge by steel drum fires, but the exhausted faces gathered around the fires looked strained and the conversation was sparse. There was the odd strain of music from guitars and some idle conversation, but for the most part the only sound was the wintery wind whistling through the compound.

  The bus had unloaded a long time ago, yet Teddy’s nose still hurt and leaned askew from Parham’s blow earlier in the morning.

  Probably broken, he figured.

  It didn’t matter—he wasn’t going to win any beauty contests anytime soon.

  Roger had asked him to accompany him back to the dorm for another round of cards, but Teddy declined.

  Teddy had a mission to complete and had no time for gin rummy.

  Despite the weariness that overtook his aching body and the persistent throbbing of his wounded nose, he walked the footpaths for hours looking for Ein.

  Teddy found a few dormitory doors propped open and peeked inside them during his search—Perr
y had not embellished about the other dorm’s cramped and dilapidated condition. Clothes lines, Christmas lights, and an assortment of junk cluttered the wall space and the bunks were piled-high with broken trinkets and extra linens. The people inside didn’t give him a passing glance as they were too preoccupied with their newly formed cliques and seemed to be clinging onto what remained of their family and loved ones.

  Ein wasn’t anywhere in sight and none of the people Teddy questioned recalled seeing a young guy with piercings and messy purple hair.

  To be honest, Teddy didn’t know why he even gave a fuck.

  It wasn’t like they had some special bond or any history.

  Hell, Ein was just a stranger from the stadium.

  Maybe, Teddy figured, what happened at the stadium was the whole reason for his obsession—he wanted to latch onto something, anything, after losing so much.

  Teddy didn’t know what drove him and he didn’t care—all he knew was that he wasn’t leaving that camp without finding him.

  He peeked inside every tent and down every alleyway but had no luck.

  Eventually, hunger forced him to stop his search for the day and find his way to the dining hall for dinner.

  The chalkboard menu claimed to serve chicken and greens.

  Instead, he was served something that resembled pasta and white sauce.

  The pasta was chewy and the sauce tasted like watered down flour; it was an ordeal just to get it down his gullet.

  Others in the dining hall complained, but the officers in charge of the serving line claimed that the chicken had expired so they were forced to improvise.

  Teddy noticed that there were more officers inside the dining hall that evening as opposed to the morning and it struck him as something worth noting. Most people wouldn’t think twice about it, but the years spent behind Tucson’s walls had altered his perception. He figured that the administration had anticipated more resistance from the people.

  However, Teddy knew it would take more than one bad meal to set the crowd off.

  Unlike Tucson, most of the folks at the camp were soft.

  After so many hours of fruitless searching in the frigid cold and a stomach full of sickening food, he gave up. “I’ll find you tomorrow, kid,” he muttered to himself.

  Teddy stuffed his hands into his pockets and headed towards his dorm, defeated. A deep tension formed between his shoulder blades and his neck ached.

  The dorm’s shower, that had appeared so disgusting to him last night, suddenly started to sound appealing in his mind.

  “Teddy!” a familiar voice beamed from the alleyway next to his dorm.

  He turned and saw Roger sitting on a small crate beside a dying fire lapping out of a rusty steel oil drum.

  “Sit down, hoss, and warm your hands for a bit!” Roger said jovially. He kicked a plastic milk crate out towards him.

  Teddy looked down at the crate and then over at the dorm with some slight hesitation.

  “Unless you have some pressing dinner plans…” Roger teased with a wrinkly grin.

  “I already had whatever mess they were serving, so I reckon I’ll sit and rest my bones for a bit,” Teddy said with a shrug. He flipped the crate over and took a seat across from him. “I was just thinking about taking a shower.”

  “There aren’t enough showers in the world to get that feeling off of you, son,” Roger said thoughtfully. “Dirt like that gets down deep.”

  Teddy was never one to speak metaphorically or wax poetic, but he agreed with Roger all the same. He held out his hands towards the fire—the warmth felt good and brought sensation back to his fingertips.

  “Hell of a first day, wasn’t it?” Roger asked as he studied him.

  “Yeah… That’s an understatement,” he admitted as he turned his hands to warm the back.

  “I should’ve warned you about what they’ve been doing lately with the sick,” Roger said regretfully. “Sometimes… I forget how harsh things are, and I feel bad about that…”

  “It’s fine,” Teddy said. “It certainly wasn’t you pulling the trigger.”

  “No, but still…” Roger said, choosing his words delicately. “Afterwards, when we got back on the bus, I could tell from the look on your face… Something bad happened back at the stadium, didn’t it? That’s why you acted out the way you did. Hell, I should’ve warned you.” He paused and shook his head, “Whatever happened, I—”

  “Please, stop,” Teddy cut-in curtly. A cascade of emotion were starting to drown him once more and his frail state of mind just couldn’t handle it. He stood up. “I don’t want to talk about that right now—I can’t. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Roger said with an understanding nod. “Just know, if you ever do…” His voice trailed off and he stared down into the fire in silence.

  Teddy sat back down. He kept his head bowed and his hands extended towards the flames, fighting back tears.

  A scruffy mixed-breed dog emerged from other side of the fire barrel and looked up at Teddy with soulful brown eyes. It sniffed at his feet and then cautiously wagged its bushy tail.

  Teddy rubbed his face and looked down at the dog with surprise.

  Roger chuckled. “Don’t mind Zoey,” he said as he reached down and scratched the dog’s back. “She’s friendly and more than a little spoiled.”

  Zoey cocked her head to the side and looked up at Teddy with her ears perked up.

  Teddy put a hand down in front of her nose.

  Zoey gave his hand a lick.

  For the first time today, Teddy had a real smile on his lips.

  Zoey barked happily and wagged her tail in excitement.

  “Looks like she made another friend to mooch scraps off of!” Roger said, laughing.

  “She’s a sweet dog,” Teddy said as petted her. “How long have you had her?”

  “Showed up about a month ago,” Roger recalled. “Skinny little thing at first… I felt bad for her and gave her some food. She’s been following me around since then and waits for me out here every morning.”

  Teddy scratched behind her ears and she yipped happily. “The cops don’t mind?” he asked as he glanced towards the tower in the distance.

  “It’s against the rules, but they don’t say anything. Lots of folks have pets around here… One of the cops, a gal named Walker, brings Zoey some meat out of the kitchen sometimes when she’s on patrol.”

  “I guess they can’t all be bad, right?”

  “Not all of them, but most. Real soldiers and real cops would never do the things these people do,” Roger said with sudden emphasis. “I figure most of them used to be mall guards or wannabes before the flu wiped out nearly everybody and then they got to fulfil their dreams… The real ones, the patriots, the ones who actually believed in helping folks like us, either deserted or died—at least that’s what I think.”

  “I think so too.” Teddy went back to warming his hands. He was starting to be a little surprised at Roger’s introspective mind.

  “My grand-pappy was in the army, so I know a thing or two about these things,” Roger continued.

  Teddy thought it best not to elaborate on his own experiences with law enforcement. “Oh yeah?”

  “You betcha,” Roger said proudly. “Those goons at the capital today? He would’ve shot the whole damn lot of them.”

  Teddy offered a thin smile, but didn’t respond.

  “Still, Parham is a special kind of prick,” Roger cautioned. “You’d be smart to stay off his radar.”

  “I figure it’s too late for that,” Teddy said with a sigh. He ran a thumb over his busted nose.

  “Yeah, I imagine so,” Roger said, chuckling. “After tomorrow, you won’t have to deal with him for two days.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It’ll be the weekend,” Roger answered with a smile, but his smile turned into a mocking smirk as he continued. “I guess our benevolent captors want us to fawn over the crumbs they give us.”

  “Oh yes, they’re the best
fascist leaders you could ask for,” Teddy said. “Public executions on Friday and then picnics in the park on Saturday.”

  Roger laughed, but Teddy’s own joke soured his mood once more.

  Zoey walked back towards Roger wagging her tail and then flopped down at his feet.

  “Either way, it’s a nice little break. Maybe you can use the downtime to let that nose heal up,” Roger suggested as he patted Zoey.

  “Doesn’t sound like a bad idea,” Teddy said as he raised his hands back towards the fire. “So tell me, what do you do with your free time around here?”

  “Drink and gamble, mostly.” Roger reached behind his crate and pulled out an old milk jug and two plastic cups. He popped the cap off the jug and filled one of the cups with an off-color liquid. “Drink this,” he insisted. “After your day, nobody could use this more than you.”

  “Hooch?” Teddy asked as he took the cup.

  “Medicine,” Roger corrected. “At least that’s what my grand-pappy called it.”

  Teddy smelled the strong ethanol content as he brought it to his lips—he paused and cocked a brow. “This Midwest moonshine concoction of yours won’t make me blind will it?”

  “If it does, you’ll be too damn drunk to care!” Roger poured himself a cup and put the jug away. He raised his cup in the air in a toast and smiled. “Cheers!”

  “Bottoms up,” Teddy said with a shrug. He quickly gulped the fiery liquid down.

  Roger tilted his head back and did the same.

  Both men lowered their cups and let out a loud belch.

  Zoey looked up at them, barked, and then laid her head back down between her paws.

  They couldn’t help but laugh.

  “That’s not half bad,” Teddy admitted with a hoarse voice. He winched and burped again.

  “Thanks. I make it myself,” Roger beamed. “Want some more?”

  “No,” Teddy answered quickly. He handed the cup back. “Thank you though.”

  Roger took the cup and laughed. “So, aside from getting shitfaced with me, what else have you done this afternoon?”