Greg knew he just fucked up, and tried to cover himself, only making it worse.
“We saw your friend and his cu... female friend,” Greg said, making two mistakes.
“His cu, mind finishing that word?” Cameron suggested broodingly, now towering over the skittish man.
“Cute young woman,” Greg said with a wince.
“Didn’t sound like cute. Try again,” Cameron said with warning.
“Cunt,” Greg said quietly.
“Strike two, Greg,” Ian said. “Here’s strike three. Tell us who ‘we’ are.”
“There’s a group of eight of us. We saw a convoy who led a bunch of those flesh-eating freaks on us,” Greg said. He seemed to have given up trying to be secretive and spilled out everything.
“Is there a leader of the group?” Eric asked.
“Yes, his name is Nikolai Grayson. He’s some government doctor. He says he wants to kill everyone here, and wanted me to help by embedding myself among you and letting them in.”
“I see,” Ian said. “Well, bad news for you, that idea will not work out. Now, I tend to take reactions from children seriously. That boy out there didn’t much like you as soon as he saw you. Do you hurt children? Specifically, do you rape them?”
“No! I don’t like boys,” Greg said. “Girls, I have taken many. And since I have been in prison, I like men.”
“How many have you raped?” Ian asked. He appeared disgusted by this creature.
“Before this all started, twenty-four. Since, I have been involved in twelve rapes. It’s our punishment in the group for when they don’t want to do what Nikolai asks,” Greg said. He seemed proud with that bit of information.
Cameron lifted the man out of the chair and threw him violently against the wall.
“People like you don’t have a place in this world,” Cameron said.
He picked Greg up by the shirt. Cameron punched Greg in his stomach. He dropped Greg, who vomited and spat up blood.
“People like you don’t deserve to live,” Cameron yelled before he kicked Greg in the chest, crushing three ribs.
“Cameron, that’s enough. We still need to know where his group is,” Ian said.
“Allow me to get that from him,” Cameron said with a grin.
He lifted Greg into the air with one hand and pulled down his pants with the other. He grabbed Greg's testicles to squeeze them together tightly. Greg screamed painfully.
“Where are they?” Ian asked, subconsciously covering his crotch.
“I don't know!” Greg cried.
Cameron squeezed again, much harder.
“I thought you liked this kind of contact with other men. Please, kindly tell my friend what he wants to know,” Eric asked. Evan peeked in to see what was going on, and quickly closed it after he saw.
“Across Southfield, in some church,” Greg moaned. “Some camel jockey church.”
“Let’s throw him in a cell,” Ian told Cameron, and gave him a set of keys.
Cameron dropped Greg violently. He grabbed Greg by his grimy hair, directed him out of the room to the jail cells, and threw him in.
Craig saw Cameron lead the scraggly man to the cells. The two looked at each other in recognition. Craig hurried over to Evan and Ian.
“Do you know who that is?” Craig asked.
“Some filthy little freak who likes to rape people,” Ian replied. “Do you know him Deputy Jones?”
“He’s a good friend to my dad,” Craig said. “He might have killed Sarah’s husband.”
“That would be my brother,” Evan said. “How do you know that?”
“We found Mark at Composite Forgings,” Craig said. “That’s where my dad and Skink works.”
“Are we going to kill him?” Matt asked.
“He’s a serial rapist,” Ian stated. “He thinks that it’s ok to use rape people as a punishment, for men over twenty and any age girl. I think executing him would be the best thing to do.”
“We’ll have to talk it over with Sarah,” Evan said. “Even if he was the one who killed my brother, we can’t go by revenge.”
Cameron rejoined Evan, Ian, Craig and Matt.
“I really could have killed that man,” Cameron said.
“He gave us a location of the group and the name of their leader,” Ian told Evan.
“I heard him,” Evan said. “Sarah, we have a situation. Come to the police station with Robert.”
“Jesus, what did you do to him?” Sarah asked Ian as she observed the beaten man in the cell.
“Just what men like him deserve,” Ian replied. “Does the name Nikolai Grayson mean anything to you?”
Sarah, August and Robert turned to face Ian with dread.
“Yes, the son of a bitch was the man responsible for a lot of evil shit. Does this man know him?” August asked.
Ian rubbed his chin. He tried to determine whether he should tell her what Greg said or not. He wanted the captain to trust him.
“Sit down, please ladies,” Ian said. Both Sarah and August sat down. Ian told both of them what Greg had said entirely.
Sarah stood up, removed her gun from her holster, and approached the cell. Jeremy walked over to her to put his hand on her arm.
“Did you kill a cop?” Sarah asked.
“What?” Greg replied.
“Did you kill a cop outside of Composite Forgings when this all started?” Sarah asked coldly.
“Yeah,” Greg replied. “He was getting on my nerves. We also wanted his gear. Max told me to do it. We killed a lot of people since this apocalyptic shit started.”
Sarah’s finger twitched over the trigger.
“You’re a dead man,” Sarah told Skink.
Greg grabbed his crotch in defiance.
Sarah didn’t even flinch from the man’s crudeness.
“So, do we execute him?” Robert asked.
“We should,” Sarah said. “He’s a rapist. It’s against the law I instituted. He’s a good start.”
“Ok, I have the man to do it,” Ian said. “There can be no wavering.”
“Do it,” Sarah said with a cold look at Greg.
The group started to disperse.
“I’ll keep this cock sucker company,” Ian said.
“Hey, we’ll need to talk about sending a squad to apprehend Grayson's group,” August said before they all left. “I want in.”
“You send a squad, and I’ll support it,” Sarah said. “Bring back Max Jones and Doctor Nikolai Grayson alive.”
August had her squad ready within an hour. All of them had riot armor with military-grade radios and headsets. They chose to go with silenced M4s. The squad was led by a Staff Sergeant named William Quinn. Craig went along to verify if they found his father. They maneuvered through the shambler plagued streets of Dearborn quietly with bayonets attached to their guns.
When they got to the academy, they snuck into a small thicket. There was a man standing guard outside. He smoked and neglected his watch by poking a slain shambler with a stick. August had a sharpshooter named Titus Kingsman target the guard. She observed the man for a moment with a high grade set of binoculars.
She gave Titus the order to fire. A muffled shot emitted from the rifle. The guard jerked as the bullet entered his brain. Blood trickled from the entry wound, and he stood there with a dazed look. It took a moment for his brain to realize he was dead. He finally toppled to the ground when he tried to take a step forward.
“Ok, we wait for the next one to come out,” August whispered to her squad. “I don’t want us to spread out, too many shamblers in the area.”
She assigned two others from the squad to cover the team from any shambler that approached, and quietly take them out.
August lay at the base of a pine tree to watch with her binoculars. Fifteen minutes pass before another man walked out. Yet another man came around from the other side. August held up two fingers, which told Titus to fire two shots. Both shots hit their marks. One of the shots tore the back o
f one man’s skull completely away. The other shot exploded inside the target’s brain, which caused him to hemorrhage from his nose and ears. They both fall to the ground.
“That should leave three left, including Doctor Grayson,” August whispered. “I think we should let them come out on their own. If we storm, we could risk something happening. We have the advantage. They might think their man was successful. Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll investigate why their friends aren’t coming back."
August went back to watching. They didn’t have to wait long as the three remaining men had gotten curious as to why their friends weren’t coming back in, including Max himself. She got confirmation that the shooters had their targets, the two that didn’t look like Max, and August, William and Titus fired. Max’s two companions had clean shots to their foreheads and Max had his right knee blown out. August followed with a shot to the left knee. August and Craig ran to the man as he lay in shock. Jeremy searched him to get rid of any weapons.
“Hello Max,” August said, revealing who it was that took him and his men out. “Where’s Grayson?”
“H-he went to Flint,” Max struggled to say. “Someone led a lot of demons against a true captain.”
August put some cuffs on him and they carried him back to the greeting center.
Lumbering down the road was a boy in a blood-soaked pair of boxers with a large hole in his stomach. His long hair was knotted and covered in dried blood. His young body was also covered with signs of decay. He struggled as he walked. William looked at what August saw. He hung his head at the horrible sight.
“Take him back. I’ll handle that one,” August said.
The others obeyed and left her to take care of the kid.
She lifted her rifle and aimed it at the boy. She had no idea who the kid was, but she couldn’t let him struggle any longer. She took the shot. The boy’s head jerked violently backward. He fell to the ground in a heap.
Eleven-year-old William Jamison, the son of Evan’s best friend, Irwin, was no more. August picked up the boy's body to carry him back to Fort Wolverine. Evan recognized the boy immediately. The discovery of William motivated him to look for Irwin. He and a few others buried Irwin and William next to the graves of Evan’s wife and children.
“Roger, I have two that I need you to take care of,” Ian said to a homely man.
“What do you want me to do?” Roger asked.
“Two men need to be executed,” Ian said.
“I see,” Roger said. He began to twiddle his thumbs. “Why?”
“They have murdered a cop, and raped a lot of people,” Ian replied.
“You keep me alive, and do these things for you, what do I get in return?”
“What do you want?” Ian asked.
Ian lifted the thick chain that lay loosely on the floor. It was firmly attached to a brick wall. The other end was attached to Roger’s leg.
“Since money isn’t worth diddly,” Roger said while he thought of a reward. “You likely won’t let me leave here, right?”
“We can’t have a convicted serial killer running around out there now, can we?” Ian countered.
“I suppose not,” Roger said. “How about you give me a nice woman for the night? You know I don’t like to hurt women.”
“That’s true,” Ian said.
Roger Mayes was very similar to the character from Evan Carter’s comic series. Roger even admitted he got some of his ideas of who he killed men from the comics during his trial. He felt as if he was doing a justice to the world by killing certain men who held no merit, or someone who could pose a threat to innocent lives. Ian kept him locked up in the Dearborn station after he had arrived. He told both Sarah and Evan about Roger.
Right after everything went south, Ian went from cell to cell in the county jail house shooting every convict waiting for a trial or set to be sent to Thumb Correctional. When Ian got to Roger’s cell, he hesitated. When he was finally ready to fire, an idea that he could actually use the man came to mind. He took Roger to where the weapons were stashed from the armory. Roger was locked securely in a room upstairs.
Roger knew the best way to survive the hell outside was stay with Ian and his deputies. He caused no trouble for them, and he was just one extra mouth to feed.
“I’d be happy to help you take those men out,” Roger said. “Just give me the means to do it.”
“I’ll give you a gun with two bullets,” Ian said. “I’ll try and find a woman for you. Just make sure you shoot them in the head.”
An hour later, Roger had the gun sitting on his reading table. Max and Greg were brought to him blindfolded. Six deputies took different spots around the room to make sure Roger didn’t try anything stupid.
“Wait, why aren’t we getting a trial?” Max whined.
“Shit, trials don’t exist anymore,” Roger said. “I’m your judge, jury and executioner today, and I was told you were bad.”
“We didn’t do anything,” Max whimpered. “They shot me in the legs. They’re all lying. They are the ones you should kill.”
“You mistake me for a bad guy,” Roger said. “I killed people for these guys so they don’t have to waste Johnny tax payer’s money in locking freaks like you away, or letting you walk.”
Roger took hold of the gun. He looked over the piece carefully.
“If you weren’t bad, why are you in chains?” Greg said.
His answer was a bullet right between the eyes.
“Oh fuck, Skink,” Max whined.
“Guys, how am I supposed to kill this one?” Roger asked. “He’s pissing himself like a baby.”
Roger seemed to look at Max with pity.
“I’ve never left a job done half-assed,” Roger said with a smirk.
Roger squeezed the trigger a second time into Max’s forehead. He tossed the gun to one of the deputies.
“Now bring me that woman,” Roger said.
“Captain,” Gina said from his doorway.
“Hey, Sergeant,” Evan said.
“Ian was just by. He said Greg and Max have been dealt with.”
“Thank you,” Evan said.
Gina turned to leave back to her post.
“Gina?” Evan said. She turned back toward him. “How are you holding up?”
“I guess I’ll be ok,” Gina replied. “I really miss my family, my father, mother and brothers.”
“Do you want to sit and talk for a minute?” Evan asked, offering her inside.
“If it’s alright,” Gina said. “I’m not used to an officer caring to ask me that.”
“I’m not exactly a veteran officer, and this is a different time. Come on in. Matt just made some lemonade with Tracy.”
“You can’t pass up that,” Gina said.
She went in. Evan had been clearing out his quarters of all the furnishings. He had his own idea on how he wanted to decorate his new home. Matt was in his room making a lot of noise. It sounded like he was building something with a hammer and wooden boards.
Matt had a long line of plastic bags filled with CDs and DVDs right outside his bedroom door.
“Are these the ones that Cameron helped him get?” Gina said with a handful of CDs in her hand.
“You knew of this?” Evan asked. He laughed when she nodded. “Cameron is too persuasive, telling a twelve-year-old to be an archivist.”
“It’s a hobby,” Gina said.
“And one I’m going to keep,” Matt said from his room.
“So, you’re going to take him in?” Gina asked.
“Yep,” Evan said. “He’s still too young to be on his own. His sister has no interest in doing it. She’s at the age she wants her own life. I’m also the best option for him. We can both heal from losing our families together.”
“That’s very noble,” Gina said.
“Where were you from?” Evan asked.
“I was born in Utah, into a Mormon family. I hated the church. I wanted away from it. I joined the National Guard right after gradu
ation from high school. I don’t regret it to this day.”
“My father is, was an Episcopalian minister,” Evan said. “I was spoon fed the bible since I was born. I wasn’t the church-going son since I was Matt’s age. Until I met that young man in there, I really didn’t believe there was a god.”
“I still don’t,” Gina confessed. “Not with those, uh, what do they call them here?”
“Shamblers,” Matt said between striking a board with a hammer.
“Not with those shamblers walking about.”
“This company will be the answer to that,” Evan said. “We won’t rest until every last one is destroyed.”
“Then I’m glad I’m the right company, Captain,” Gina said.
Chapter 15: Perfect Wind
It was the day of the meeting between the people of New Detroit and Colonel Hummsfeld. Both sides agreed to meet at Royal Oak High School. August sent two platoons to scope the area for any vantage point. Each of the captains was asked to attend the meeting along with Eric and Sarah.
Sharp shooters were set in multiple locations. If there was a tower to climb, there was a sniper. Entire squads patrolled the streets around the school. In order for the colonel to get to them, he had to go down a highly guarded road.
A single military tent was pitched beside the school. The meeting was still a few hours away yet, so some of the militia men and women threw together a game of tackle football at the small stadium. After days of intense training since the death of one of Evan’s men, the militia needed some time for some fun. Evan was the most relaxed captain of the four. He was usually found in the thick of training or pick-up games with the other soldiers.
A single pillar of smoke rose eastward down Normandy Road. Militia men took down and piled bodies of shamblers to burn as they waited.
When Evan needed to give his troops an order, they responded immediately. Eric told him he had the highest morale of the militia, despite Thomas in the soldiers’ faces on a regular basis. They were sharp, responsive and courteous.
“Evan!” Sarah yelled from off the field. “You better get in here and get ready.”
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