by Joe McKinney
Camp Fox.
Too wide open for a solid defense. Too many areas for zeds to break through.
A white wind turbine rotated smoothly, towering above the base. My jaw dropped. “You have power?”
Tyler nodded. “Camp Fox has had its own wind energy for over five years now.”
“Showers?”
His lips curved. “Yes, we even have hot water.” I rested my head on the seat and fantasized about standing under a steamy shower as we approached the gate. Unfortunately, I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of fantasies. Not with Clutch’s—and my—current situation.
Several Humvees and armored vehicles rested on the other side of the tall fence. Camp Fox certainly wasn’t lacking firepower, though Clutch and I had watched on television while cities like D.C. and L.A. fell, despite having massive military power on their streets.
Two soldiers stood while a third stepped inside a guard’s box and opened the gate. They saluted Tyler as we passed through the gate, and he saluted in return. It was then I realized that I might never see the farm again.
“Will Smitty stay with Jase and Eddy tonight?” I asked, knowing that Jase had to be getting worried before long.
“I’m having the boys brought here tonight,” Tyler replied. “I’ll see that you connect with Jase tomorrow morning. I thought it would be safer than leaving him at the farm.”
“I suppose so,” I murmured, though I wasn’t exactly confident in Camp Fox’s strength, not after seeing the way Doyle had scoffed at Tyler.
Beyond the gate stood several small pens holding livestock. A lone bull with wide horns stood in a closed-off area across the road. No doubt this setup was to protect the animals from zeds, but to me, it was like setting out bait. Once zeds depleted the local population, they’d come in hordes to Camp Fox in search for food.
A single zed was easy to kill. They were dumb, slow things. Easy to outthink and outmaneuver. But a herd never tired. Tall fences and bullets couldn’t protect these people. They were rounded up for an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord. I felt a hundred times safer at the farm, where we were ready to bug out at the first sign of herds.
As the Humvee curved around the Camp’s winding roads, people milled around, some worked the gardens while others carried loads. Two young children played with a ball. Several looked up as we passed. Many smiled and waved as though these men were their saviors, which I supposed was true.
Seeing so many people in one place, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of hope. Maybe Jase would be safer here than alone at the farm, for at least now. Maybe Tyler was right. Maybe Camp Fox could recreate civilization. Maybe, just maybe, they could withstand zeds.
We continued past several barracks, all of which had people in regular clothes walking nearby. After another few blocks, Nick pulled to a stop outside a square brick building with a sign that read Camp Fox HQ outside.
Griz and Tack climbed out back before Tyler opened his door. Each man grabbed my arms and pulled me across the seat. With my wrists tied, I nearly stumbled climbing down from the Humvee.
As soon as Tack shut the door, the Humvee drove off, leaving the four of us standing alone in the small parking lot. The sun had already begun to set, casting a warm orange glow onto the red bricks. Clutch was in the direction of the falling sun. What would he be doing now? Would he be tied up like I was, or was he playing along with Doyle?
Tyler tugged me along and I had to hurry to keep up with his longer strides. Griz and Tack followed us up the steps and through the double doors.
Inside, the building seemed innocuous. With the exception of military insignias, the main area could’ve passed for any town hall. Tyler stopped us at the front desk, where a man and woman sat. He was in uniform, while she wore jeans. “Is the Colonel available?” Tyler asked.
The woman spoke first. “He is. Shall I let him know you’re coming?”
“Yes, thank you,” Tyler nodded and then turned to me. A pained look flashed across his face before he turned to the two soldiers with us. “Escort the prisoner to interrogation room one.” He gave me a final, almost-pained glance before turning on his heel and hurrying down a hallway.
Tension grew in my muscles.
“This way, sugar,” Griz said.
With one man on either side, they walked me down a hallway, stopping when we came to an opened door.
Tack flipped a switch, and light flooded the room. The room sat empty except for a table and two chairs.
Griz nudged me inside, and I winced at the sudden brightness. With his rifle, he motioned to a chair. “Take a seat.”
I swallowed and obeyed and was somewhat surprised that they didn’t restrain me to the chair, not that I was an expert on interrogations. The sum of my experience came from what I’d seen on TV. They left me alone, closing the door behind them. I suspected at least one of them remained just outside the door, but I could neither see nor hear them.
The room was small, maybe eight-by-eight, without any windows. No one-way mirror covered the wall, though I supposed video cameras had long since replaced one-way mirrors.
I closed my eyes. Focused on my breathing. Silently repeated my mantra to soothe my nerves until I realized there was no way to get the upper hand in this situation.
I was at their mercy, plain and simple.
Long after my butt had gone numb in the cold metal chair, the door opened, and I started.
A man I didn’t recognize walked in first, followed by Tyler. The newcomer was tall, his face craggy, and looked to be in his late forties. He took the other chair, while Tyler stood off to the side.
“I’m Lieutenant Colonel John Lendt.” The man sitting across from me looked every bit the leader Tyler had made him out to be. A piercing, sharp gaze, hard jaw, and strong shoulders hinted that this man was confident in both his intelligence and strength. He was downright intimidating without even trying.
“I’m Cash. I’d shake your hand, but my hands are preoccupied.”
“Just Cash?” He raised a brow.
I shrugged. “I’m no longer who I was before.”
One corner of his mouth rose. “I disagree. Who we were shapes us into who we are, and who we are shapes us into who we’ll become.” He leaned back. “But we’re not here to talk philosophy, are we. Captain Masden witnessed you shooting an unarmed man without provocation today. What do you have to say to that charge?”
A thousand different responses shot through my brain. I settled on simple honesty. “Yes, I shot him, but I had provocation.”
His brows tightened. “You realize that under military law the punishment for murder is death.”
I looked down at the table and swallowed.
Lendt came to his feet. “Sergeant Nicholas Lee has volunteered to lead your defense. I’ll have a tribunal scheduled for the day after tomorrow. No need to delay this messy business, but you have my word that you’ll be treated fairly.”
Tyler followed Lendt out of the room.
I frowned. This was an interrogation? No questions about why I’d done it?
“This way.”
Griz stood in the doorway, motioning to me, and I rose and followed him, feeling as though my doom was already sealed. Numbness coated my thoughts as they escorted me out the other side of the building and across a wide sidewalk to a low one-story building. Inside, the short hallway was lined with several cell doors and more hallways, though I could hear no one else nearby. They put me into the first tiny, windowless cell with a narrow bed and a steel latrine and sink.
“Hold still for a moment,” Griz said just before I felt a tug and the plastic restraint snapped free. I rubbed my wrists and faced the two soldiers as one shut the steel door.
Tack faced me through the bars in the door’s window. “The bastard got what he deserved,” he said before disappearing, leaving me alone in my cell.
I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the gray ceiling. How had everything gone to shit so quickly?
Silence boomed off the walls in
response.
I thought of Jase. He knew people here. They could look out for him.
But Clutch…
For all I knew, he was lying dead in that zed pit right now.
The sound of boot steps echoing down the hallway brought me back, and I pulled myself up and walked toward the door in time to meet the driver from the Humvee.
He was looking to his left. “Open up.”
“I can’t, sir,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Colonel’s orders. He said the prisoner is a flight risk.”
Nick rolled his eyes before turning to me. “Hi, Cash. I’m Sergeant Nick Lee.”
“I remember,” I replied. “Good to see you again.”
“I’ll represent you at your trial. Since you already admitted to the murder, I think our best defense is to prove that there was no premeditation, and, therefore, this wasn’t first-degree murder. That way, you’ll just get time in the brig, and the death sentence gets ruled out.”
I watched him for a moment. “Why are you helping me, Nick?”
He shrugged, and then lowered his voice. “I’ve seen some shit. Bad things that have happened to women and men. We’ve all heard rumors. If you said both you and your friend saw this guy hurt a girl, I believe it. Now, if we can get your friend to testify, it will help your cause. The fact that he’s a veteran is even better.” He paused for a moment. “But, honestly, I don’t think we’ll be able to get him here for the trial.”
Not that I was surprised. Still, having my thoughts spoken aloud burned. “Can’t Lendt order him to come to the Camp?”
“Sure, but I don’t think it will do any good. Colonel Lendt ordered Doyle to come to the Camp after Masden filled him in, and Doyle hasn’t shown up yet.” Nick grinned. “And, Colonel Lendt doesn’t take kindly to being screwed with. I think he’s finally going to make Doyle come to heel and break up the militia.”
“Watch out for Doyle,” I said, a rock forming in my gut.
“What’s he going to do? Attack Camp Fox?” He smirked. “Don’t worry. We have many times the resources and firepower that Doyle’s got. We’re safe enough here. Let’s start prepping for your trial. Start at the beginning, and tell me everything.”
****
Several hours later, I woke, sweating and heart racing. I dreamed that Clutch was in the room with me. Except that he was a zed.
A siren pierced the night’s silence, and I lunged to the door. “What’s going on?” I called out, hoping someone was nearby.
“Echo Four reporting in, requesting status. Over.”
The soldier’s voice was to my right, but I couldn’t see him around the corner.
“All units report immediately to assigned defense points. Camp Fox is under attack. Zed Alert. Code Five. This is not a drill. Over.”
The voice on the radio repeated the message two more times before my guard stepped in front of my door, his eyes wide.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He stared at me for a moment, and then took off running. A door opened and closed. Then silence.
“Damn it,” I muttered, kicking at my door. Without any visible doorknob or hinges, all I could do was shove at the door, but it was solid steel. Still I tried. Trying was better than accepting that I’d die in this tomb, either from starvation or when the zeds would finally find me. I turned and walked over to the bed. Pulled at the frame but it was screwed into the concrete floor. I returned to the door. After long minutes of kicking, a door opened somewhere. Buried under the piercing siren, I heard gunfire and screams.
Nick’s helmeted visage filled the window in my door, startling me. “It was Doyle,” he said, panting. “His men cut through the fence and laid down flares. Set off the sirens. They must’ve gone out and drawn all the zeds in the area here.”
He pulled off his helmet and wiped his forehead. “Doyle zed-bombed us.”
Chapter 13
“There are zeds everywhere,” Nick said, putting his helmet back on. “I can’t believe it. Doyle attacked us. He really did it.”
I pressed my hand over my heart as his words sunk in. While I didn’t doubt Doyle’s ruthlessness, the reality that he’d attack hundreds of innocent people made no sense. I pressed against the door. “Let me out. I can help.”
Nick noisily fidgeted with keys. “This is your only shot. Lendt will make you stand trial, and you’ll end up either in the brig or worse. And that’s just not right. I’ve seen shit the Dogs have done. You’ve got to run.”
More rattles, I heard a click, and the door swung open. I jumped out of my cell to find Nick already jogging away, his boot steps echoing through the empty hallway. When he opened the door, the gunfire sounded way too close, but there was no way zeds should have managed to cross acres of the outer camp to get to the center.
Before I stepped outside, I paused. “I have no weapon.”
He patted a couple pockets with his hand not holding an AR-15 and pulled out a folding knife with a camo paint scheme. “It’s not much, but it’s all I can spare.”
I opened the blade. “Better than nothing.”
Nick gave my shoulder a quick pat. “Head east. That’s the quickest way out of here. I got to get to my squad. As soon as all the civvies are in their barracks, we’re going to start unloading the heavies on the zeds.” Nick sprinted toward the tanks and Humvees rolling in, likely to congregate around the barracks in the distance, and I hoped that Jase was safe.
Movement in the darkness off to Nick’s left kicked me into action. “Your nine o’clock!” I shouted, running toward him.
He twisted to his left where at least a dozen zeds tumbled out of the shadows. He held down the trigger, firing into the onslaught and taking down several zeds, but most bullets embedded harmlessly into their torsos and limbs.
I sprinted to close the distance between Nick and me.
A zed wearing a business suit emerged from the darkness behind Nick. I spun around it and embedded the knife up to its hilt into the back of the zed’s skull. I hadn’t been sure the blade was long enough until the zed collapsed.
Nick’s rifle clicked on empty. He dropped it and pulled out a pistol that looked like a Beretta 9mm.
“Conserve your ammo,” I said as I picked up the empty rifle. “Remember to go for head shots!”
Wild-eyed, he fired into the thinning group, and I pocketed the knife. I jogged over to the zeds on the fringe, ones too shot up to walk, and swung down the rifle butt, making sure to crush each skull before moving onto the next.
After Nick quit shooting, I slammed the rifle into the last moving zed.
Walking back, I held out the AR-15, now dripping with brown sludge. He finished reloading his pistol, holstered it, and looked up. He grimaced at the rifle, but took it and reloaded.
“Hasn’t anyone trained you guys on the art of killing zeds?” I held a finger to my temple. “Always go for headshots. One shot, one kill. Anywhere else is a waste of ammo unless you’re overwhelmed and have to slow them down.”
“Lay off me, I’m just ROTC,” Nick said, reloading the rifle. “It’s just different when they’re right there. They should never have gotten this far into the Camp.”
Screams erupted in the distance, and we both jerked around.
Nick’s eyes widened. “They breached the barracks!”
No. Jase!
We took off running toward the barracks, where gunfire flashed like lightning bugs in the night.
Several zeds lumbered after us along the way, but we easily outran any Nick didn’t take down with headshots.
By the time we reached the first barrack, cries seemed to be coming from everywhere. Zeds pounded at each of the doors and windows of the barrack. The people inside stood huddled together under the lights, making them look like fish in a fishbowl. Soldiers in full battle armor, unable to fire without risking casualties to friendly fire inside, used bayonet-knives, axes, and crowbars to take out the zeds and were making headway.
I came down on a knee by a soldier who’d l
ost his helmet and had been chewed to a pulpy mess. I relieved him of his rifle and knife before rummaging through his pockets to find two fresh magazines. His warm blood soaked my hands, making the mags slippery.
After reloading the rifle, I found a pale Nick nervously waiting for me instead of helping his comrades, his lack of experience all too obvious.
.30 cal machine guns belted out rounds into the darkness.
The first barrack had been nearly cleared by the troops. I tugged Nick’s arm. “Let’s check the other barracks.”
We ran down the long building to the second barrack. Only a few zeds shuffled by its doors and windows. With no lights on inside, it was impossible to see if the barrack was inhabited, but I suspected these civilians had been smart enough to hide from the zeds.
The third barrack was a different story. Its doors were thrown wide open, and the soldiers were firing directly inside. The lights were on, and I couldn’t make out who was zed and who wasn’t.
I ran toward the building, searching for Jase. I wasn’t used to the AR-15 so I got close to the crowd before I fired. My first shot went right through a zed’s brainpan. The rifle had less recoil than I was used to, and I took down two more zeds before running to a more open spot and repeating the process.
The ground was covered with hundreds of zeds, some not moving, some dragging themselves toward prey. But, for every zed on the ground, there were four still on their feet. I didn’t count my rounds, knew I couldn’t have more than a dozen shots left if I was lucky.
When the rifle clicked on empty, I swung it at the zed nearest me. The rifle got tangled in the zed’s clothing, so I let go and dodged to the side, narrowly missing a petite zed. I pulled out the longer bayonet knife I lifted off the dead soldier and planted it through the zed’s eye, and it tumbled backward, collapsing to the ground.
I tried to get closer to the barrack, slashing at zeds, but it was impossible. More zeds were closing in every minute. I was forced to retreat and I ran toward the first Humvee. Manning the .30 cal was Tyler. A soldier leaned against Tyler’s back, clutching a neck wound, but still managing to fire rifle shots at zeds coming at them from behind.