by Bob Williams
“You’re fuckin’ dreamin’, Prescott.”
Shields finally decided to interject. “Mr. Prescott, I’m not entirely sure where your confidence is coming from. Your very own Chicago Safe Zone is lost. You barely made it out of an Alamo type shoot out in Chicago. Then you blow off your own home town and head to Normal. Where you then get a half-cocked idea that you can take down the most dangerous and psychotic tyrant to surface since The Descent. In other words, you reek of desperation. Or you have a serious death wish. Either way, we are not inclined to let you drag us down with you. We are already essentially on the run. We don’t need the attention.”
“Jay asked me the same questions. It’s not a death wish. For a brief moment in the beginning, maybe. And I didn’t blow off Chicago. What does your precious network say about Chicago? It’s lost, right? As a matter of fact, what does The Network say about The Descent? What is The Network?”
“We keep screwing this conversation up before we can even have it. I’ll take over,” said Shields. You know my name. I have no organized military experience other than Reserve Officer Training Corps at Middle Tennessee State University in Murfreesboro twenty years ago. I didn’t finish ROTC or my degree. I had a husband and two children, all lost to The Descent. I killed my husband with a table leg after he’d become infected and killed both of our sons. I am a third degree black belt in Shotokan Style karate and extremely proficient in Brazilian jiu-jitsu. I am the leader of this outpost because the last five commanders either died or fled. If I had my choice we’d drop this ball and head back to the ‘Boro. Cole, your bio now.”
“Fine. Michael Cole, borderline psychopath. I masked my mental issues well enough to join the Army, where I became a Ranger and killed a lot of bad guys. About six years ago, my unit went on a midnight, zero cover Op, and it was a total wash. Out of twelve to go in, me and T-Cup were the only two to make it back. I cracked up. I was in and out of the psych ward until The Descent. William Carr tried to personally fuck me and my whole floor at The Shop, but I got out. Made my way from D.C. back home to the ‘Boro and found a safe haven at the MSZ. I’m tired and I’m broken, Prescott. It’s taken Shields, here, and a lot of very good people to bring me back from the dark side. I can’t have you fuck it up. The end.”
“Hey Cole, I’m telling you, man. I’m not here to fuck anything up. I’m here to help.”
“And how exactly are you going to do that, Prescott? Where’s your team? What’s your strategy? Most importantly, where are your guns?” demanded Cole.
“I just got here. I haven’t devised a strategy just yet. I haven’t even seen this, what? Compound? This is not an in-and-out job. I’m going to be here awhile. Help me, Cole. Shields, let’s do this together. Help me take it back.”
“Prescott, I don’t know how else to explain it to you. It’s different here. At least in the Mid-State. Maybe in Memphis, or Chattanooga, or even Jackson, The Network says there is a small band of Regulars in Jackson that are taking the fight to the Freaks. We’ll give you provisions and some gas and you go try and find them. We don’t want you here.”
“You guys have no idea what you’re up against, do you? Let me tell you, because I just found out about this myself two days ago. The Freaks are not your only problem. There are Regulars that work with the Freaks. Speaking of networks, this organization is called The Black Hand. And you know what we’re not done with, yet? All of this! What do you see day in and day out? Death, despair, the grotesque, hopelessness. The Descent was brought about by demons. One demon in particular, named Chaos.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake Prescott! Are you fucking kidding me with this bullshit? Are you seriously trying…”
Cole was interrupted by Shields. “Cole, shut up and listen.”
“Are you buying this crap, Commander?” boomed Cole.
“Cole. The Three. We know. Have known. The Network informed us about a year after The Descent that supernatural forces were at work. The Descent was indeed brought about by a demon named Chaos. I’m not completely sure what other territories are doing, but The Network is wide and encompasses at least three quarters of the former continental United States. The members of The Network chose to keep any mention of supernatural forces between us. Leadership personnel. I’m sorry, Cole, but your reaction is exactly why we did it.”
“But…”
“Cole, we can discuss this further back at the MSZ,” Shields said firmly.
“When are you going to tell me what this network is and how it works?” I asked.
“Jesus, Prescott. We just dropped a bomb on Cole here. Maybe we should take a minute. Better yet, why don’t we take this down a notch and we’ll all go back to the ‘Boro and assess what happens next from there.”
I had to admit that sounded good. I was more than a little worried about Cole, though. He essentially said he wasn’t all there, and now we tell him demons caused The Descent. “I’m going to need some assurance that I’m coming with you of my own accord. I’m visiting, and once I enter the Murfreesboro Safe Zone, I can leave anytime I want.”
“Done. Can we go now? Cole, load up any provisions the outpost can spare for our trip back to Murfreesboro. If Wycheck gives you any shit, you tell him I said it was a forward pass.” After about five seconds of dead silence we all shared a smile, albeit briefly. Gallows humor has a way of breaking tension at the right times.
We all got up from table and I about tripped over Lexi who was lying comfortably at my feet. I had totally forgotten about her. Again, this was going to take getting used to. As we left the cafeteria, Lexi stood her ground and whined a little then barked two loud barks. I went back in, followed by Cole. “What is it girl?” Lexi looked at the table, sniffed, then barked again. Message received. I picked up the knife and started to put it into the peanut butter when a powerful grip took hold of my wrist.
“You’re not going to feed that dog our food Prescott,” growled Cole.
With my other hand I had my Glock out of its holster and the muzzle pressing lightly upward into his chin.
“You tell me, Cole. When they sing songs about your death do you want it to be about the Battle for Nashville, or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at Outpost Delta? ‘Cause I’ll personally add a verse where Lexi pisses all over your bullet riddled face. ”
“Ok...Ok.” Cole released his grip and raised both hands in a submissive gesture. He turned to Shields. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Keeping secrets from the community is bad enough, but getting in bed with this guy is going to bring us all down.”
“I understand your anger, Cole. In fact, I believe it’s perfectly within your rights to be upset. If we can just get back to the MSZ and cool down, talk about this, and formulate a course of action, we will be the better for it. It’s a lot to take in. Think about what you want to say to The Three when we get back, and I’ll facilitate your opportunity to speak.”
I couldn’t figure out the dynamic. Why in the world was a karate-mom such a dominant personality over an Army Ranger? Granted, a slightly broken Army Ranger. Something I’d have to keep an eye on. We walked in silence to our respective vehicles and were about to head towards Murfreesboro when I heard the CB.
Murfreesboro Safe Zone to Commander Shields, over. I repeat. MSZ to Commander Shields! We are under attack! Repeat. WE ARE UNDER ATTACK! We are outnumbered and taking casualties. It’s Kade. We’ve sent the other members of The Three into the Pod, and The Network is secure. Repeat. The Network is secure. Please respond with E.T.A. Over.
I jumped out of the Comanche with Lexi on my heels and ran up to the Dodge. I opened the door in time to see Shields yelling frantically into the handheld. “MSZ this is Shields! Repeat, this is Shields. We are in Nashville. Mission complete. We have Prescott and we are wheels rolling right now to get back. Over. What about the defense grid? Can you repel the attack? It will take us hours to return.”
Unlikely. Make your best time Commander. I think this is going to be more about picking up the pieces. Con
dition Black. Over and out.
“What is condition black?”
“Imminent loss,” said Shields. “Follow us and stay close. Roll out.”
KADE DELIVERS HIS MESSAGE
Kade was filled with hate. He knew this about himself. He hated a lot of things. He hated joy. He hated happiness. He hated smiles. He hated laughing. Those things were the inherent qualities of Regulars, which he absolutely hated the most. He felt quite strongly that he had been hand picked by Chaos to eradicate the Regulars. Well, not all of them. What was he supposed to eat? He loved the taste of a properly seared Regular. Not too young, though, now that just wasn’t right. They had to be properly tenderized of course, and after a while his hands would be raw. But the meal was always worth it. Sometimes he believed the more they pleaded for their lives the better they tasted. He jabbed the last bite of meat from his plate and put into his mouth. He savored it briefly then began to chew. Some of the very best meat comes from the leg. He removed the napkin that was tucked into his shirt and dabbed the corners of his mouth. He sipped his wine and pushed back from the table. He always feasted alone before a raid.
He went to the door, opened it and indicated to Ortiz it was time for their pre-raid strategy session. These were always pretty quick meetings because there was no real plan of attack. There was a march to the target, which on this day was the safe zone in Murfreesboro. Once there, he delivered his message, then a blitzkrieg attack was launched in which every single Regular man woman and child was slaughtered or captured. In recent months, Kade had also considered growing his numbers. So maybe this time I’ll instruct to infect. Depends on how I feel.
“Today is mostly about killing, Ortiz.” Kade looked long and hard at Ortiz. “I want us to go over there today and not only kill the rats in their maze, I want to kill their hope. I want to kill their desire to keep fighting. I want to kill the thought of any one person, group, or community within a hundred miles or more that there is any use in fighting. There is no hope. You cannot survive. If you try and oppose me, you will be destroyed.
Kade had heard the Doctor Midnite broadcast and it had infuriated him. How dare that charlatan call him out by name? He had sent scouts out all over the land for the last year trying to locate this Regular asshole and shut his ass up. It hadn’t happened yet.
“Today, above all else, is about showing Doctor Midnite what he’s inciting his little gerbils to do. Die. The more, Ortiz, he incites them to fight, the more they will suffer the consequences of my rage. Do you understand me, Ortiz?”
“Yes, Kade! I’ve been by your side since the beginning, and I will ride with you and bask in the glory of our victory today, and we will both know that Chaos is pleased.”
“Good. Yes. I agree. After today’s carnage, Chaos will be very pleased. We will destroy the Murfreesboro rat trap and add warriors our glorious army.”
Kade saluted his general and they both knew, down in the depths of their cold black hearts, today would be a success. The Regulars would suffer in ways they never thought imaginable.
“Rally the Freaks. We leave in two hours. Make sure everyone is loaded up. Make sure all the vehicles are full of gas. And make sure we have the tanker running and ready. We’ll want to break the rats’ backs by taking all their gas...oh and let’s kill any horses they have, too. You gettin’ all this Ortiz?”
“Yeah, Boss. We’ve already made all the necessary preparations. The tanker is five by five and bone dry. We’ll make sure that bitch is filled to the brim by the time we leave the MSZ. You know I got this, Boss. All we need is about an hour to get organized to roll out. And of course you’ll want to address the boys before we go.”
Of course, he was right. Kade always addressed his loyal Freak following before a conquest. Yes, they were Freaks. They were already frothy for the carnage but he needed to make sure they stayed on point. Kade wore many hats in his leadership role. In some ways he was a father figure. In others he was a teacher. And a lot of the time he was a disciplinarian. He expected them to follow his very precise directions, and if they didn’t, well, he’d be painting the roses red with their blood.
Exactly one hour later Ortiz, entered the office right as Kade said, “See ya soon” into the microphone that protruded from his headset. He pulled the plug out of the board, took off the headphones and set them down.
“Is everything in order? What did he say?”
“He said, my friend...that they will never see it coming.”
“Glory to Chaos and The Eighty-Eight! That he would be pleased with the work that we do today!”
“Indeed, Brother. Indeed. Let us go rally the troops.”
Kade strode out of the Hard Rock and walked onto the stage. He approached his customary microphone and took it off the stand. He didn’t intend to take long.
“All right, everyone. Shut up!” The crowd was a bit too wired and didn’t take heed. “Shut up! Shut up! Shuttupity up! You fuckers better start paying attention. LISTEN UP! Right now while you jerk offs aren’t paying attention, there are forces at work that want to take ALL of THIS from you!”
He felt sometimes, despite the fact that he loved them—well as much as he could love anything—that they were hopeless. As great a leader as he was, he couldn’t do everything! He needed the Freaks to listen and obey. If they were indeed going to murder the entire state of Tennessee, they had to tighten the bootstraps on this operation.
“Do I have your attention now? How many of you like the current state of affairs? Murder! Death! Kill! Rape and Pillage! All the free meals your tummies can handle. This is the most perfect Freak safe zone there is. I will do my best to protect and provide for you but you have to work for it. And today all of you miserable fuckers are on the clock. Punch it!”
It looked like ten thousand arms shot up into the air. They screamed, “TIME TO GO TO WORK!”
“That’s right!” Kade spat into the mic. “Time to go to work. Your job today is to rain down on the Murfreesboro Safe Zone like a plague of pestilence.”
“PUNCH IT!” The Freaks boomed in unison.
Your job today is to kill everything you see breathing.”
“PUNCH IT!”
Your job today is to take everything back that those people took from you.”
“PUNCH IT!”
Your job today is to annihilate all of their communications abilities. If there is a radio, smash it. If there are computers, destroy them. If there is a box of fucking envelopes, burn them!”
“PUNCH IT!”
“And your final job today is to relieve those rats of every ounce of gasoline they possess. We’re taking the tanker, so you best fill her to the rim with Brim, you assholes.”
“PUNCH IT...OOOOH TIME TO GO TO WORK!” The Freaks erupted into a cheer of exultation and crazed euphoria.
“All right then. Fall out to your transports and get to work. We have twenty-six miles of fairly easy interstate to travel. They’ll hear us first. Then they’ll see us. They will not be able to stop us.” Kade dropped the mic to the stage with resounding feedback and walked off towards the convoy.
As expected, five short hours later, the objective was in view. Just a short hop off of Interstate 24 and there they were. The old Middle Tennessee State University Health Services building. When Kade finally decided it was time to take down the Murfreesboro rat cage, he briefly considered moving the entire operation there. However, that idea didn’t last long. For one, it would’ve taken too much work. More importantly, destroying all of the medical equipment within those walls and any medicine or any antibiotics, along with a total massacre, would set the Regular movement back on its ass. God damn Regulars, thought Kade, they’re like fuckin mosquitoes. How ever many you kill, there’s always more. Well, this time we brought about five hundred flyswatters.
The convoy of well over two hundred cars, trucks, motorcycles, and one very large tanker truck converged on the MSZ. Kade’s Black Suburban led the centipede-like entity of vehicles into the parking lot, but i
t was only a formality. Kade stopped directly in front of the entrance, about a hundred feet back, and waited while the slow moving line broke in opposite directions, quickly surrounding the over 200,000-square-foot building. Once the building was surrounded, the Freaks started to scream. It was a chilling sound that was accompanied by the revving of engines and the firing of a multitude of weapons. This strategy was devised by Kade as the introduction of the intended victims to their imminent doom. He wanted to scare the shit out of them. And it did. He didn’t have to be inside those walls to know they had already won.
Once Kade heard the war cry, he knew it was time to begin. But, honestly, this part always gave him a thrill. The cry started out as a low rumble and grew into an overwhelming tidal wave of terror...or ecstasy, depending upon whose side you were on. Kade always let this go on for several minutes before he sent up a red flare. The flare was the signal for those wild-ass jackals to calm the fuck down. And they always did. Because they loved this part.
Kade had two giant speakers attached to a rather large contraption in the bed of his truck. When he flipped the toggle, the speakers would rise to about ten feet up in the air. It was a nice wireless setup that Ortiz had jerry-rigged for him.
He got out of the truck and flicked on the microphone he kept in his truck for just this type of special occasion. He wasn’t a fool. He knew he had sights trained on him but for some reason—it was crazy actually—they never shot him. He had thought about that once. The only reason he could think of was this: however long he chose to speak for was that much longer they got to live. Because they were going to die.
“Good afternoon neighbors,” he said politely into the mic. “You may or may not know me, my name is Kendrick Kade. But for today’s exercise you can call me Kade. I can only hope you heard us coming and have been able to fortify your establishment. You see, we have come to kill you all. And we will. I have an army of Freaks and they are, well, hungry. But we’ll get to that.