***
Janet is waiting for him in his room when he gets back from a dinner of watery stew and stale bread. She’s wearing only a silky white slip and a slight grin. “How was your first day?”
“Pretty educational,” Hunter says. He sits next to her on the bed. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but this is going to take some time. From what Trip says, the only way to get access to the church is to be a member. I’ll need a few days to make that happen.”
Janet takes this in and then nods. “I guess that makes sense. And I don’t suppose a few more days will matter a whole lot.”
“Thank you, Jan. I promise I’m going to get you out of here. All of you.”
“I know.” Her grin widens. “If anyone can do it, it’s the Sky Ghost.”
“You heard about that?”
“Oh, sure. You’re the reason some of the wranglers are here instead of up in the air. They never said your name, but who else could it be?” She leans across the distance between them to kiss him on the lips. He resists her tongue’s attempted advance until she pulls back with a sigh. “What’s the matter? Aren’t I pretty enough for you?”
“It’s not that. There’s someone else.”
“I know. Casey. She’s not here, is she? And I’m not going to tell.”
“Jan—”
“Please, Hunter? It’s been so long since I actually made love to someone. These other men have just been a job.”
Hunter hears the desperation in her voice and he can see it in her eyes. “All right,” he says. “Do you have a condom?”
“Of course. What kind of hooker doesn’t have a condom?” She winks at him and then reaches into her purse for a condom wrapped in blue foil. He gets undressed and then lies back on the bed to let her slip the rubber on his cock. With how easily she does this, she must have had a lot of practice.
After all those times with Val, Jan is a relief. She’s gentle, caressing his skin instead of digging into it. She takes it nice and slow with the same practiced ease in which she put on the condom. She has clearly learned a thing or two in her time here. It’s hard to believe this is the sunny woman who used to read fairy tales to Polly and the other children.
When she comes, it’s more of a sigh than a scream. She gives him a minute to finish and then rolls off of him. She’s just as well-versed in getting the condom off of him as she was in getting it on. She pads over to the door to toss it out into the parking lot. There are probably a lot of used condoms lying around there by now.
She cuddles up against him on the bed. “Did you like it?”
“Did it seem like I liked it?”
“I’m glad. I thought maybe it would be too awkward.”
“No, of course not.” He runs a hand through her hair and then smiles. “You’re a great girl, Jan. Someday you’re going to make someone really happy—for more than a couple of hours.”
“I’m not sure any decent guy is going to want me after this. I’m damaged goods.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone has done something they regret. The way things are, no one manages to stay innocent for long.”
“What do you regret?”
“Not being there for you guys when they came for you. If we hadn’t tried that attack on Portland—”
“It’s not your fault. We didn’t even know this place existed. You and the others were trying to make things better for all of us. You were trying to give us a real home.”
“It didn’t work out so well, did it?”
“At least you tried. Not like a lot of guys who have come here.”
Hunter nods, but what Jan said isn’t of a lot of comfort right now. He left Casey and Polly and all the others virtually defenseless to go on a fool’s errand in Portland. He had been hundreds of miles away when his home was under attack; when the woman he loved was facing death. It’s not something he can forgive himself for even if he does get Casey, Polly, and the others out of here.
Chapter 20
It seems appropriate that the facility to handle the “wild” zeebs is an old slaughterhouse. The rusty Ford Bronco Hunter is riding in rolls past one guy trying to hold a zeeb down while another attempts to get a muzzle over the zombie’s mouth.
The Bronco passes a pen that used to hold cows or pigs but now contains undead humans. They’re all muzzled, yet that doesn’t stop them from clawing at each other. Trip was right about having to be crazy to work here.
The driver lets him out in front of the main building for the slaughterhouse. There’s a tall man there who with his brush hat and thick ginger mustache looks like he could be a 19th Century explorer. “G’day, mate,” the man says with the appropriate Australian accent. “You must be the new recruit. You can call me Outback Jack. Everyone else does.”
“Mac Malone,” Hunter says, holding out his hand for Outback Jack to shake. The man’s grip is as strong as Hunter expected, nearly crushing the bones in his hand.
“They said you volunteered for this?”
“I heard there was a fat bonus—if you can make it.”
“That’s right. Not a lot manage to get that far, but you’re welcome to try. Come on, let’s get you suited up.”
The “suit” is the kind of thickly-padded outfit K9 trainers use to keep from getting bitten. There’s a football helmet to go with it that still has the logo for the University of Utah. Hunter waddles a few steps in the outfit, feeling like a penguin. “How do you lose so many guys wearing this?”
“The padding helps, mate, but these things won’t let that deter them. You give them a chance, they’ll find an opening. When they do, you’ll be joining them in the pen. Course some guys try to hide a bite, which is why every day we do a full inspection.”
“Inspection?”
“Means you got to strip all the way down. I don’t like staring at your pickles, but I don’t want no biters running around.”
“Guess that’s what the hazard pay is for.”
“Good one, mate. Now, come on. We got a new batch coming in from the airport. Give you the baptism by fire, so to speak.”
“Always good to hit the ground running.”
There are ten of them in the padded suits and helmets waiting by the loading entrance for the tractor-trailer. They each carry a Taser and baton like cops taking on a crowd of rowdy protestors. Even with the suit on, Hunter feels naked without a gun or other weapon that could do some real damage should things get ugly.
The doors for the tractor-trailer open and the first zeebs spring from the back of the truck. They knock over the first two wranglers in line. A couple more wranglers come to their defense while the rest start to grapple with the dozens of zeebs in the truck.
Hunter hits one zeeb in the head and then hears Outback Jack shout, “Watch the noggins! We want these beasts intact!”
“Go for the legs, rookie,” another wrangler says. He demonstrates an awkward leg sweep that wouldn’t work on a living person, but the slower zeebs aren’t able to react in time. The zeeb collapses to the floor, where the wrangler can Tase it until it goes still. “Then you get the hood on.”
From a pouch, the wrangler takes a leather hood more appropriate for S&M play in the bedroom and then jams it over the zeeb’s head. Hunter tries this on the zeeb in front of him. He kicks it in the shin and then shoves it down into his Taser hand. The zeeb’s roar of pain is stifled when Hunter stuffs the hood over its head. He grabs hold of the ragged Strokes T-shirt the zeeb is wearing to shove the zeeb away for someone to guide into a holding pen.
It goes on like this for probably half an hour. Hunter’s body is drenched with sweat inside the padded suit while his arms are limp as a couple of boiled noodles. As the last zeeb is shoved into the holding pen, Hunter takes off his helmet to wipe the sweat from his face.
Outback Jack claps him on the shoulder, not that Hunter can feel it. “Good job, mate. You’re a natural.”
“Thanks.”
“The main thing is not to get complacent. You let your guar
d down and that’s when one of these biters will get you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Now, we keep them in the holding pen for a bit, until they settle down. Then we got to transfer them to one of the pens with the others. First, though, you got to take off the mask and get the muzzle on. We want them to be able to see but not bite.”
“I saw them doing that outside when I came in,” Hunter says. “Looks rough.”
“If it weren’t rough it wouldn’t be any fun,” Outback Jack says.
“What happens after you get the muzzles on?”
“We hold them a bit. Let them get acclimated. See which ones are the troublemakers. Everyone thinks zeebs are all the same, but it’s like regular people: there are always those who can’t get along with others. The ones who keep causing trouble, we eventually take them out.”
“You mean you kill them.”
“That’s right. The ones who are left, we collar them and then ship them over to the storage pens, where you started.”
“And the collars keep them in line?”
“Just like a dog. Zeebs might not have the higher brain functions, but they’re still smart enough to be trained. Course if one decides to fight the collar, there’s a solution for that too.” Outback Jack makes an explosion sound.
“The collars have explosives in them?”
“Yeah. You got to have a way to keep control. Wouldn’t want the biters to revolt.”
“Seems like the church has thought of everything.”
“Church? Bah. Mostly my idea. Worked at the Sydney Zoo for twenty years. Tangled with all sort of beasts in my time.”
“Shouldn’t you be in the city then?”
“I like being where the action is. Plus I don’t really get along with all that ‘church’ nonsense.”
“Is it nonsense? From what I heard, they seem to have some good ideas.”
Outback Jack spits and then says, “It’s a bunch of shite. God didn’t send this plague to cleanse the world. If He did, it sure as hell wasn’t for these fools to run the world.”
“If you think that, then why are you helping them?”
“What, you a reporter or something? Gonna write my biography?”
“No. I’m just curious.”
Outback Jack’s eyes narrow. “They send you?”
“Who?”
“Them. The church higher-ups.”
“No. No one sent me. I’m just here to make some money.”
“Right. Listen, mate, if you got anything else in mind, I’ll put you down like the biters. You got it?”
“I got it,” Hunter says. He has probably overplayed his hand by asking too many questions. It will take a little effort to win Outback Jack over. That is if Hunter needs to do that. From the sound of it, Outback Jack and the church aren’t the best of friends, so cozying up to him wouldn’t be the best way to get into the church’s good graces.
No, Outback Jack already gave Hunter the key. If he digs up some dirt on Outback Jack, then he’ll have something to trade to Major Friese or another church higher-up in exchange for membership. That should in turn let him get on the inside to find Casey and the others.
He sighs to himself. All things considered, Outback Jack doesn’t seem like a bad guy. He’s just playing for the wrong team. Casualties of war, Hunter reminds himself.
***
A week of wrangling the wild zeebs seems to last a year. He’s glad to come back to the motel every night for Janet to give him a massage—with a happy ending. Again he chides himself for being unfaithful to Casey, but even if he wanted to resist Janet, he’s much too tired at the end of the day to bother with it. And he has to admit she has real skill in working out the kinks and soreness in his muscles.
During his days, he keeps his eyes and ears open for anything he might be able to use on Outback Jack. The guy is outstanding at his job, but his hatred of the church higher-ups is often on display. Hunter memorizes a few of the more colorful phrases to pass on later. He likes being a rat even less than being unfaithful to Casey, but it might be the only way to find where she and the others have been taken.
At the end of the week, he goes to see the officer in charge of the wranglers. “I’d like to see Major Friese.”
“What for?”
“I have some information for him. About a traitor to the church.”
“Really? What’s a nothing like you care about that?”
“Can you get me a meeting or not?”
“I need something more to pass on to him. I bring him here for nothing and they’ll throw me into one of the pens.”
“Look, there’s a guy plotting against the church. He’s going to stage a coup. Is that enough for you?”
“Who is it?”
“That part I need to discuss with the major.”
The officer studies Hunter for a long moment. He finally relents with a sigh. “All right. I’ll set something up for tomorrow. This had better be worth it.”
“It will be.”
Hunter tells Janet about the meeting as she rubs him down. “If I can convince them Outback Jack is a traitor, I’ll earn their trust. They might invite me into their inner circle without having to go through all that ‘baptism’ stuff.”
“I doubt that,” Janet says. “They’ll probably still make you do it. They love a good baptism.”
“Let’s hope that’s not true.”
“If they make you do the baptism, you think you can go through with it? You think you can kill an innocent man?”
“I’m probably killing one already. At least Outback Jack isn’t really evil. He’s just doing a job.”
“That’s probably what the pirates tell themselves. And a lot of the lower church goons.”
“You’re probably right. That’s something to worry about tomorrow.” He grabs her around the waist to swing her down onto the mattress. She lets out a giggle that makes him smile; even in a place like this there are still small comforts.
***
The invitation is slipped under his tray as he’s eating breakfast. It’s only a note card that says, “Go to the office.” He hopes it’s Major Friese come to see him, not Alma wanting another romp; he’s definitely not in the mood for the latter this early in the morning.
“Looks like it’s on,” Trip says.
“Looks like it. At least it gets me out of breakfast.” Hunter pushes his tray back and then gets to his feet. He tries to look nonchalant as he dumps the contents of the tray into a bucket to be given to some of the church’s livestock. Then he strolls over to the door like any other day.
To his relief he opens the office door to find Major Friese sitting behind the desk. “Hello, Lieutenant. You asked to see me?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Good. Then let’s talk.” Major Friese gestures to the manager’s office. Hunter sits on a hard office chair while Major Friese takes the manager’s chair with more padding. “You said there’s someone plotting against us?”
“Yes. I’ve been working with the ‘wild’ zeebs for about a week. I’ve heard the head of the place—they call him Outback Jack—plotting against the church.” Hunter relates some of the more colorful expressions Outback Jack has used, which includes insinuating the church’s leaders have less brains than a pile of kangaroo shit. “I don’t want to get the guy into trouble, but—”
“But you’re hoping we’ll be grateful enough to give you a reward. What is it you want, Lieutenant Malone?”
“I want in. I mean into the church.”
“Really? You don’t seem like the spiritual type.”
“No, but I’m not an idiot. The setup you guys have here is the best there is. I don’t want to be stuck in this shit hole forever. It’s like Purgatory. Do you guys believe in that?”
“No. That’s a Catholic idea.”
“But you know what I mean. I want you to deal me into the game so I can get my share of the pot. Do you play cards or is that forbidden?”
“Cards
are fine as long as there’s no money or property being exchanged.”
“So what do you do for fun?”
Major Friese smiles thinly. “We’re not Muslims, Lieutenant. We do allow drinking, dancing, music, even fornication if you get permission from the bishops.”
“Aren’t bishops Catholic?”
“Some protestant branches used them too. So, are you still interested?”
“It beats this place even without the gambling.”
“Good. I’ll see to arranging your baptism within the week.”
“I’ve heard about those. I’m not too keen on the idea of wrestling a zeeb barehanded. Any chance I could skip that part of the process?”
“No. Everyone has to go through it. Even I had to do it. It’s the only way you can prove you’re really worthy of joining the church.”
“Great. Maybe you could give me someone easy? Kind of put the fix in for me?”
“I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, I’ll arrange for quarters in the city for you. We like those who are going to be baptized to get acquainted with the church in case they’d like to back out.”
“Awesome. It’s a little better class of motel than this, right?”
“Yes. Much better.”
“How soon before I can petition the bishops to let me get laid? There’s a pretty decent girl here, but I bet you’ve got better ones there.”
“Much better,” Major Friese says again. “I think I can convince them to let you sample some of the wares.”
“You’re really going to spoil me.” Hunter’s smile fades a little as he asks, “What’s going to happen to Outback Jack? You going to feed him to the zeebs?”
“He’ll be punished accordingly. That’s all you need to know. If you have a problem with that—”
“No problem. I was just wondering.”
“There’s no need to worry. Our security will prevent any reprisals.”
“That’s a load off my mind.”
“Wait here while I contact my superiors. It shouldn’t take too long to arrange your quarters and transportation.”
“Where am I going to go?” Hunter leans back in his chair. He waits until Friese has gone to heave a sigh of relief. The first phase of the plan has gone well. He hopes the rest of it will go as smoothly.
Army of the Damned (Sky Ghost #1) Page 17