H7N9: The Complete Series [Books 1-3]

by Campbell, Mark

  CHAPTER 17

  DECEMBER 19th

  8:20 AM

  Teddy walked out of the shower with a towel draped around his neck. Even though he was given a fresh set of clothes and had managed to scrub off months’ worth of caked-up dirt and oil from his body, he still felt dirty. He knew that no amount of showering would rid himself of the grime that he felt was festering inside.

  Perry sat on the edge of his bunk and watched with amusement as Zoey went at an old can of sardines. He turned his head towards Teddy as he approached. “Feeling better or do you still have weak knees?”

  “All that’s gone as far as I can tell. I’m still a little dizzy, but that’s probably from hunger more than anything.” Teddy stared down at the Zoey’s food and felt hunger pangs rumble in his stomach. “You don’t happen to have any more of those, do you?”

  Perry gave him a puzzled look and then laughed. “Sure do, but they’re all dented or expired. Don’t be surprised if you get a case of botulism.”

  Teddy groaned and put a hand on his stomach. “At this point, it’s almost worth the risk.”

  Perry laughed again.

  Zoey looked up from her food, licked her lips, and barked at Teddy. Her tail started swinging side-to-side excitedly.

  Teddy crouched down and smiled.

  Zoey bounded towards him and licked at his face.

  “Easy girl!” Teddy laughed. “You’ll have me stinking like fish and I just took a shower!”

  Zoey gave a few more happy barks, a couple of final sloppy licks, and trotted back to her food.

  Teddy got back up on his feet and wiped her slobber off of his cheeks with the towel. “Is the curfew over?”

  “I think so since the door is unlocked, but I didn’t go out to see how things look…” Perry frowned. “It sounded bad last night. Did you hear the gunshots?”

  “Yeah… Couldn’t sleep.”

  “No more curfew, so I guess they felt that they’ve made their point… I don’t agree with the overzealous way they handled it though.”

  “That’s funny, because last night I remember you calling the regular folks a bunch of animals,” he said humorlessly.

  Perry shook his head. “Both sides share some blame. People need to learn how to get along.”

  “It sounds like people would be willing to do that if they just had some food in their bellies.”

  “What if there is no more food to give?” Perry asked.

  Teddy considered it for a moment and then shook his head. “They always have emergency supplies… Contingency plans and shit.”

  “I don’t think they do this time…”

  “Christ, Perry, I thought you were the delusional optimist. We can’t both sit around and be cynical pricks.”

  Perry chuckled. “Maybe you’re right, but it gets hard sometimes… Being in here all by myself has been rough. The others know that I’m all alone and they don’t take too kindly to us red bands. I get nervous walking outside on my own these days.”

  “Fuck other people—you have Zoey,” Teddy offered.

  “That I do,” Perry said with a smile.

  There was an urgent knock on the door and the electronic lock disengaged as it was overridden. As the door opened inward, a gust of wind sent flakes of fresh snow in across the floor.

  Zoey tucked her tail between her legs and ran off to hide behind under one of the empty bunks.

  Two officers wearing woolen peacoats and balaclavas entered the room with rifles across their chest. Both the men’s eyes were hooded by the narrow visors of their riot helmets. They scanned the room with their weapon’s tactical lights and focused their beams on Teddy.

  “Teddy Sanders?” one of the officers asked.

  “Yeah?”

  The officers turned off their lights and lowered their weapons. “Come with us.”

  “Take care of yourself out there,” Perry said.

  Teddy followed the officers outside and looked over his shoulder at Perry. “You too, old man.”

  The door slammed shut.

  As Teddy walked with the officers along the footpath, he noticed that signs of the previous night’s carnage was already hidden by nearly six inches of fresh snow. Splotches of blood and spent brass casings lay trapped under a stretch of thick ice blocks. Underneath the transparent blocks of ice, the brass casings glowed gold and orange in the morning sun. Dormitories that had their doors knocked off of their hinges just hours before, were already shuttered with fresh plywood and the signage stapled to the wood proclaimed that the buildings were quarantined due to typhoid. Even most of the graffiti was covered with a liberal amount of white paint.

  Despite how laboriously Hock’s men attempted to cover-up what happened, Teddy knew that the others must have heard the gunshots—it was evident in the way the other civilians leered scornfully at the officers as they passed.

  Teddy felt choking tension surround him and he was positive that the officers felt it too judging by the way that their eyes darted side-to-side at every alleyway and every corner.

  A pleasant voice announced over the camp’s speakers: Security reminder—due to a rise in confirmed typhoid cases, public gatherings are no longer permitted. Unauthorized groups will be subject to disciplinary action.

  Teddy glanced over as they passed the alley where the officers had been strung up. The bodies and the extension cords were long gone—even the graffiti had been painted over.

  One of the escorting officers saw Teddy looking down the alleyway. “Disgusting what happened last night.”

  Teddy thought about the way the cops slaughtered over what he assumed were one-hundred innocent people in a ham-fisted response. “It was,” he agreed.

  “Those fucking roaches will think twice before pulling some shit like that again,” the officer continued.

  The other officer, a skinny man with a white skull painted on the back of his riot helmet, gave him a sharp look and jabbed him with his elbow.

  “Relax, Hayes, he’s one of us now,” the first officer said. “He hates these fucking roaches as much as we do.”

  Hayes looked over his shoulder at Teddy and narrowed his eyes. “I doubt it, Wright… He doesn’t look like one of us…”

  Wright shrugged. “He was handpicked by Hock himself.”

  “His endorsement doesn’t mean much to me,” Hayes said as he turned back around. “I haven’t been impressed with Hock’s decisions lately.”

  “Yeah, well, that makes two of us, but this is the guy that fucked up all those men that attacked Parham’s crew.”

  “Oh, shit!” Hayes exclaimed. “I didn’t know this was the dude…” He looked over at Teddy with newfound admiration. “That was some good shooting, brother.”

  “Not really.” Teddy stared at him. “When you’re using a machine gun against a bunch of rednecks you tend to have the upper hand.”

  “How many did you lay down?” Hayes asked excitedly.

  “I wasn’t keeping count—I was just trying to stay alive.”

  “That’s something worth remembering! One hell of a story to share around the fire.”

  “How many did you lay down?” Teddy asked

  “What?”

  “How many did you guys lay down?” Teddy asked again as he pointed at one of the plywood-covered dorms.

  “Shit…” Hayes thought for a moment before continuing. “My crew got at least two-hundred.”

  “Ours had eighty,” Wright added.

  Teddy’s stomach soured. “That’s pretty impressive… I didn’t know they could fit that many fish in a barrel.”

  Both Hayes and Wright chuckled, missing the sarcasm.

  “Yeah, I know,” Hayes said. “Those fucking roaches didn’t have much fight in them when we started knocking them down… It took two goddamn hours just to haul their bodies to the pit.”

  “Did Hock order that?” Teddy asked.

  “He ordered the clean-up,” Wright said.

  “What about the mess itself?” Teddy pressed.


  “Didn’t have the balls,” he said with contempt. “He’s too soft on these roaches. After they lynched our people like that, we handled business on our own.”

  Hayes pulled down his balaclava and spat on the snow. “The roaches drew first blood.”

  “Roaches…” Teddy muttered. “I didn’t know that’s what you called the people.”

  “It’s a fitting term,” Hayes said while Wright nodded with approval.

  “Does it apply to everyone?” Teddy asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, out of that group of roaches you two heroes put down last night, what did you call the women—were they roaches too or did they have a special name?”

  Hayes and Wright stopped walking and turned towards him.

  Teddy scowled at them both and continued. “Better yet, what did you call the children that you so bravely pulled out of bed and slaughtered?”

  The two officers stared at him with their hands wrapped tightly around their rifles for several seconds.

  “Whose side are you on, friend?” Hayes asked in a tense voice.

  Teddy didn’t respond.

  Wright looked over at Hayes. “I told you he’s not one of us…”

  A voice over the officer’s radios broke the silence: Jayhawk Control to Foxtrot, 10-25 to the central courtyard immediately—possible 10-44 in progress.

  “A demonstration?” Hayes asked with disbelief.

  Wright shook his head. “I guess those roaches didn’t learn from last night… The riot squad is going to whoop their asses.”

  “Let’s hurry and get this snowflake over to on-boarding so we can get in on the action,” Hayes said.

  Wright waved the barrel of his rifle at Teddy. “Move it, roach.”

  Teddy continued down the pathway with the two officers on his heels. When he turned his head to the side he noticed out of his peripheral vision that they had their weapons half-cocked towards him—he felt more like a prisoner again and no longer like one of their peers, but that suited him just fine.

  As he walked, he noticed how empty the path had become. There wasn’t a single civilian, leering or otherwise, in sight. A few officers carrying batons and riot shields jogged past, but none of them paid Teddy or his escorts any mind.

  Public gatherings are no longer permitted. Unauthorized groups will be subject to disciplinary action a voice over the PA reminded.

  As Teddy was led away from the dorms and past the concrete courtyard where the gallows once stood, he stopped and stared in awe.

  Over a hundred people stood motionless in the middle of the courtyard, their unwavering gaze fixed on the control tower in the middle of the camp. They stood tightly-packed and their numbers seemed to be growing as more emerged out of alleyways and adjacent footpaths.

  Responding officers lined the edge of the courtyard hesitantly and raised their riot shields towards the crowd.

  Sgt. Mayville and a small group of officers managed to climb atop the ruined gallows’ scaffolding and pointed their rifles uneasily towards the crowd.

  Mayville brought a megaphone to his mouth and keyed the mic as he shouted in a high, nasally voice: Disperse back to your dorms immediately!

  The crowd didn’t move and, given some of the larger incidents he had witnessed back in the penitentiary, Teddy knew things wouldn’t go so easily for Mayville the second time around.

  Wright prodded Teddy in the back with the barrel of his rifle. “Keep moving.”

  Teddy obliged, eager to get away before he got caught in the coming storm.

  They turned the corner and headed down another narrow, emptied pathway that ran between two rows of dormitories. It was all very quiet—unnaturally quiet.

  The officers became jumpy as they passed each alleyway. Their eyes searched wildly for any movement and they kept checking over their shoulders.

  Teddy’s mind raced as he walked faster. I just need to get my uniform, get a weapon, grab an access card, pick up Ein, and get the fuck out of here. If everything went smoothly, he could drive straight out of the front gate with a shit eating grin on his face.

  When they neared one of the dorms that had been ransacked the night before, they saw that the plywood covering its battered front door had been pried away and lay in the snow.

  “Fucking roaches,” Hayes grumbled.

  Wright gave the dorm a passing glance and shook his head. “Just like a roach to go in and pick through the scraps that the dead left behind.”

  Hayes and Wright led Teddy past the doorway and kept their weapons sighted towards the adjacent alleys.

  Teddy noticed the old coppery stench of blood and the sickly-sweet aroma of decay as it wafted out of the dorm. He also noticed something else—he thought he saw someone standing back inside, hidden in the shadows.

  “You brought this shit on yourselves,” Teddy warned.

  Hayes looked over at him. “What are you going on about—what did we bring on?”

  “Can’t you see that this place is one big powder keg?” Teddy asked. “Between the work details, the food rationing, and the shitty living conditions… It has all been too much, too fast. Your little retaliation last night served as the perfect lit match.”

  “Shut up,” Hayes snapped.

  Suddenly, a shrouded figure moved across the rooftop of an adjacent dorm.

  “Movement!” Wright shouted. “Rooftop—two o’clock!”

  The officers stopped and aimed their rifles up towards the roof, but the figure was gone.

  Hayes’ eyes danced wildly as he scanned the rooftops with his weapon. “I don’t like this.”

  “Fuck Hock’s rules of engagement,” Wright said. “If I see a roach, I’m killing it!”

  While the officers had their attention focused on the roofs, an emaciated man stepped out of an alleyway and hastily pointed a pistol at them.

  Wright looked towards him, spooked. He pulled his rifle away from the roof and aimed it at the man, but the man was quicker.

  The man fired four times in rapid succession.

  Three shots whistled past Wright’s head, but the final shot struck home.

  Wright’s face flushed a bright red as the side of his neck splattered out in a gush of gore. He dropped his weapon and instinctively reached up to clutch his throat as dark crimson spurted out from between his fingers and bubbled out of his mouth. He fell to his knees in the snow as he gurgled and choked on his own blood.

  The man darted back down the alley.

  “Son of a bitch!” Hayes exclaimed. He pointed his rifle towards the alleyway.

  Three men darted out of the ransacked dorm and ran towards Hayes holding blunt objects.

  Teddy was knocked aside by the besieging group as they neared their target.

  Hayes turned around just in time for a brick to smash his face in like a rotten gourd. He fell backwards onto the ground as the men crouched over him and immediately went to work savagely bludgeoning him.

  Two more, a teenage boy and a woman, emerged out of an alley and stomped on Wright’s bleeding corpse.

  The group stripped the bodies of their weapons and dispersed just as fast as they had arrived.

  Teddy was left slack jawed standing in the middle of an empty footpath—two dead officers lying just a few feet away. So much for the easy way out he thought.

  An alarm started blaring from the central control tower and he wasn’t sure if it was for what had just happened or if it had to do with whatever was going on at the gallows.

  Either way, he knew he had to get out of there.

  Teddy crouched down next to Hayes’ body and searched the vest’s tactical pockets for anything useful—he found nothing except for a pack of stale cigarettes and a pair of handcuffs.

  Messages pleading for back-up came through the officer’s radios.

  Teddy had to get to Ein before the whole place went up in flames. He needed access and he needed to know what the cops were up to—he snatched Hayes’ FEMA pass card from his vest�
��s breast pocket and pulled the Motorola radio out of the man’s belt holster.

  He stood back up, stuffed the radio in his back pocket, and broke into a sprint towards the building on the hilltop.

  A message played over the camp’s PA while the alarm continued its steady whine: Attention—due to terrorist activity, an emergency lockdown has been declared. All residents must remain in their dorms or they will be detained.

  The sound of every dormitory lock remotely engaging at the same time created a strange click that resonated down the pathway.

  Teddy ran faster.

  Further down the pathway ahead of him, almost as if in direct response to the lockdown, civilians started emerging out of the alleyways brandishing blunt objects and even a few rifles. They marched towards Teddy, towards the direction of the gallows, with their weapons and fists in the air, shouting and jeering. No food, no peace they chanted. A more alarming chant followed: you kill ours—we kill yours!

  The planning and coordination on the part of a bunch of strangers, who just weeks ago were content playing checkers around a campfire, was impressive.

  Teddy, aware that he would never push through the advancing crowd, turned and ran in the opposite direction, back towards the gallows.

  He blindly bolted around a corner and skidded across the ice, but managed to regain his footing.

  To his left, towards the dining hall, a row of riot troops blocked off the pathway with their shields in one hand and fiberglass batons in the other.

  To his right, towards the gallows, a growing mob of civilians had gathered, and hurled whatever they could get their hands on towards the officers.

  Bricks, stones, and all manner of trash was lobbed over Teddy’s head and uselessly bounced off of the shields or landed in the snow.

  The riot troops advanced in formation while a secondary team mobilized behind them. One of the team members, a sergeant, brought a megaphone to his lips. Disperse at once or we will use force—the threat was drowned out by the mob’s passionate cries of protest.

  Teddy turned and ran towards the gathering mob. He held out his forearm in an attempt to shield himself from small stones and bottles that fell short of their intended targets.