“That’s what you went for, stupid.” Stinky stated from the back of the truck. “What happened?”
“I had to stay on the outskirts of the place. I went all around the property. There ain’t no way in past the fence.” Shooter licked his dry lips and stared at the bottle that Simon was now draining.
Sinner snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Focus, asshole.”
Shooter seemed to stiffen when Stinky handed him a bottle of water. He cracked the top and took a long pull from the lukewarm liquid. He gave an audible ‘ahh’ when he finished, then leaned on the door of the truck. “Okay, so...I finally spot some of our people. Remember the redheaded lady with the really wide butt?” He looked to the men who had no idea what he was talking about. “Yeah, okay. Well, I got her attention and I wave her over and tell her that we need people on the inside. You know the spiel, and then, get this…she tells me that they’re fixing up a place for everyone to move to.” He smiled widely at the three men.
Simon sat up straighter and glared at him. “What place?”
“She didn’t know exactly, but you know how rumors are. They were talking about hot and cold running water, electricity, cable TV, the works.”
Simon reached through the window and slapped him. “There ain’t no fucking cable TV no more! Don’t be stupid.”
Shooter rubbed at his cheek and turned a hurtful eye to him. “I didn’t say it, that’s what they’re saying.” He stepped back from the window slightly and looked to Sinner. “There’s all kinds of rumors. They’re saying that they’ll get their own places. Private toilets and grow their own food. Maybe even air conditioning in the summer.”
“Bullshit.” Simon tossed the whisky bottle at him and Shooter barely dodged it.
“That’s what they’re saying.” He rubbed his cheek again. “Anyway, the point is, nobody wants to screw up their chance at a place like this.”
Simon growled low in his throat. He looked to Sinner. “What are you thinking?”
Sinner shook his head. “I’m thinking…we saw an awful lot of traffic coming from there today.” He turned to Simon and raised a brow. “Maybe we should follow some of that traffic tomorrow and see where the hell they plan to create this utopia.”
Simon felt a smile creep across his face. He nodded slowly as his smile grew. “I like the way you think, Sinner.” He turned to Shooter and his smile faded. “Get in back or walk. Your choice.”
He turned back to Sinner and nodded. The truck engine roared to life as Shooter scrambled to crawl in back. He fell amongst Simon’s booty and collapsed. He looked up at Stinky. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
Stinky nodded. “You and me both.”
24
“It’s so simple.” Hatcher muttered.
“But effective.” Roger nudged him. “Our sentries could monitor the entire perimeter.”
Will pulled the boards down and laid them gently on the ground. “As soon as we’re finished with the solar panels, I’ll have them separate the scaffolds and we can get them mounted to the sides of the perimeter.” He turned and eyed the wall. “I think one section every ten feet or so should do the trick. The wall is only about eight feet tall. Each section is just short of four feet. If we bury the legs to stabilize each section, an average sized man can stand on top and easily see to shoot over the tallest peaks.”
Hatcher shook his head. “I was expecting something more elaborate, but…that would do the job perfectly.”
Will did quick math in his head. “We’ll need more scaffolding, of course. It shouldn’t be hard to locate. There are plenty of equipment rental facilities in town that are now empty. I’m also thinking that we should collect as much lumber as we can. And building materials. We need to ensure that it’s out of the weather and covered for future use.”
Hatcher gave him a questioning stare. “Why would we do this?”
“Expansion, Mr. Hatcher, of course.” Will pushed his glasses up onto his nose as he spoke. “As more survivors are found and added to the fold, we’ll need to expand. Both in structure and in supplies. With no current method of importing certain goods, we should definitely ensure that existing supplies are properly stored and protected.”
“Meaning lumber and building supplies, gardening tools…” Hatcher’s mind began to think ahead.
“Precisely. Most of those things are beyond our ability to create under current circumstances.” Will nodded as Hatcher began to see the bigger picture. “I have no doubt that as more survivors etch out their place in the new world, we’ll see trade spring up and we’ll be able to get more items that we can’t create for ourselves.”
“That could take a while.” Roger muttered.
“It very well could.” Will rocked back and forth on the heels of his feet. “But the one thing that history shows us is that there is no denying man’s innate ability to adapt and overcome.”
Hatcher snorted. “You seem overly optimistic.”
“Not at all.” Will turned and waved at the men working on the structures. “Consider if you will, these people. Most came from the roving motorcycle gang, yet here they are, working hard for nothing more than a meal and a promise of a better life. Given time, I have no doubt that both parties will congeal into one homologous community. Pasts will be forgotten as we all look toward a unified future.”
Roger hiked a brow. “How long before you think it’s safe to move in?”
Will’s eyes narrowed as he studied the wall. “With the materials we have and the manpower on site, I would say that if we worked through the night, we could have the wire mounted, stretched and in place by midmorning tomorrow.”
Hatcher shook his head. “No working at night. Until the wall is reinforced and we have the scaffolding up for the sentries, I don’t want anybody here past sundown.”
Will gave him a curious look. “But we could easily work through the night with portable lights and—”
Hatcher held a hand up, cutting him off. “It’s not the ability to work in the dark. It’s what comes out at night.”
Roger noticed that Stanton wasn’t informed. “We grabbed one of the Zulus…we called them ‘Crazies’. They show…changes.”
“They’ve adapted into night time hunters.” Hatcher said. “My sister examined one of the bodies and from what she can tell, they’ve somehow mutated. She thinks that direct sunlight hurts them.”
Will nodded. “That would explain the lack of creatures during the day.” He glanced back toward the wall then turned back to Hatcher. “If you can get us as many of those deep cycle batteries as you can find…I may have a secondary line of defense that we can employ against the creatures. That is, assuming your assumptions are correct.”
“What are you thinking?”
Will smiled. “A series of spotlights along the perimeter that use a specific type of light.”
Roger raised a brow. “Like a UV light?”
“Better. There are flood lights that can nearly blind you and there are bulbs that mimic sunlight. Combined and mounted along the tops of the wall, I believe that they would make a nice deterrent for our cannibalistic friends.”
Hatcher gave him a wide eyed stare. “You think that’s doable?”
“With the proper equipment, plans and tools, anything is doable, Mr. Hatcher.” Will gave him a quick grin and a pat on the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, duty calls.” He spun back and pointed at Hatcher. “Deep cycle batteries. The more the merrier.”
Hatcher looked to Roger. “Up to a road trip?”
Roger snorted. “Like we have a choice?”
Carol stacked the reports together and slipped them into a folder. She stood erect and stretched her neck. A quick glance around the lab told her all that she needed to know. The death of Dr. Carpenter and the isolation of Dr. LaRue had morale at an all time low.
Broussard cursed and threw a handful of papers across his workstation. He stepped back and ran a hand anxiously through his hair. Carol sighed as she approache
d him. “Problems?”
“This should work.” He pointed to the rack of test tubes. “But we don’t dare use them until we know if she even has the virus.”
Carol nodded. “It would also help if we had a way to isolate which strain she might carry if she does test positive.”
“If we treat her for the mutated version and she isn’t carrying it, we may well force—”
Carol stepped in front of him and cut him off. “We’re all aware of the ramifications, Doctor.” She took him by the shoulders and gave him a calming stare. “Right now, you should focus on the delivery system for Dr. LaRue’s treatment.”
Broussard nodded, a heavy sigh escaping as he held his hands up in surrender. “Oui. You are correct.” He took a deep breath then turned back to his station. “We are overworked, understaffed and woefully under equipped. If we can pull this off, it will be a miracle.”
Carol didn’t want to agree with him, but she definitely saw his point. “Just do the best you can.”
She turned and picked up the stack of papers. She slipped out of the lab and walked down the hall toward the armed guard standing outside of Dr. LaRue’s stateroom. “Hey Rob. Anything new?”
The guard gave her a crooked smile. “You always ask me that.”
“I’m hoping you’ll have a different answer.” She gave him a wink. “How’s our patient?”
“Quiet.” He glanced over his shoulder then turned back to her. “For a change.”
Carol cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“Colonel Vickers came by and told her about that researcher that cut his own throat. She took it really hard.”
Carol nodded solemnly. “We all have.”
“Yeah, well, she goes from fits of crying and screaming to laughing.” He tapped his temple. “I think she’s cuckoo.”
Carol nodded slowly. “Some people just have weird ways of showing their emotions.”
“If you say so.” He stepped aside and knocked gently on the door. “Doc, your paperwork is here.”
He pushed the door open and Carol leaned over to peer inside the room. She saw Vivian laying on her bed, wiping at her eyes as she sat up. “Come in, please.”
Carol gave Rob a gentle smile then stepped inside. “How are you feeling?”
Vivian raised a brow. “Apparently I’m cuckoo.” She smirked at the closed door.
Carol nodded slowly. “You heard.”
“Who wouldn’t? The man’s voice echoes like a bassoon.” She sat up straighter and scooted to the edge of the mattress. “So, what do we have?”
“Preliminaries. A few promising results but I learned my lesson about getting excited too early.”
“Good girl.” Vivian reached out and took the file. “How is Broussard coming with the mass delivery system?”
Carol shook her head. “I think he’s stymied but too stubborn to admit it.”
Vivian nodded as she scanned the reports. “Understandable. If left to me and my ability, I’d say it can’t be done.” She paused and read through one of the reports more closely. Nodding she shoved them all back into the folder. “Just keep at it. That’s all we can hope for.”
Carol tucked the folder back under her arm and gave her boss a tight lipped smile. “How are you feeling?”
“Bored.”
She shook her head. “No, how are you feeling?” She lowered her voice. “Do you feel anything different?”
Vivian rolled her eyes and sat back on the mattress. “My dear, everybody knows that I may be infected. There’s no need to lower your voice. I’m not that twisted, drunken uncle that families keep in the basement and don’t speak of around mixed company.” She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “In all honesty, I don’t feel symptomatic, but it’s still too early to know. Charles didn’t feel…” She trailed off, the reality striking her again that he was gone.
Carol reached out and covered her hand. “It’s okay. We all miss him.”
Vivian nodded and sniffed back an unshed tear. “Anyway, I don’t feel different. If I have the mutated virus, it may well take days to manifest.”
Carol came to her feet, nodding. “Understood.” She glanced at the door then back to Vivian. “If we get any kind of break in the lab, I’ll inform you immediately.”
Vivian nodded to her. “I appreciate that.” She watched as Carol spun on her heel and pulled the door open. She paused, handle in hand. “If you need anything, just let me know.”
Vivian gave her another nod and watched as she disappeared. She leaned back and rubbed at her temples.
“This headache is killing me.”
“Maybe we’re going about this all wrong.” Sinner paced slowly as he spoke.
Simon dug through the box in the back of the truck. “I know it’s back here. I fucking put it here.”
“We don’t need an army to fight these assclowns. We don’t people on the inside to stir them up while we’re attacking either.”
“Aha!” Simon held up the bottle of rum in triumph. “I KNEW it was back here.”
“Are you even listening to me?” Sinner asked, leaning against the bed of the truck.
Simon turned and gave him a questioning look. “That’s a dumbass way to start a conversation.” He twisted the cap off of the rum and lifted the bottle to his lips. “You should say something first, THEN ask that question.” He tilted the bottle back and took a long pull.
Sinner shook his head. “You’re worse than my sister’s kids.”
Simon screwed the cap back on the bottle. “Yeah? They like rum, too?”
“No. They never fucking listen.” He threw his hands in the air. “Come find me when you’re falling down drunk. That’s the only time you pay attention to somebody anyway.”
“Hey!” Simon thrust his leg over the edge of the truck bed, blocking his path. “Don’t get all pissy and butthurt. Just tell me what you wanted to say.”
Sinner took a deep breath then turned a wary eye to the man. “I was saying, we don’t need an army. We don’t people on the inside to shake them up while they’re being attacked.”
“We don’t?” Simon leaned back against the edge of the truck bed. “How you figure that?”
Sinner gave him a toothy grin. “Ever heard, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’?”
Simon thought for a moment then took a small drink from the rum. “Maybe. Can’t recall for sure though.”
Sinner sighed with exasperation. “We use the Crazies, man.”
Simon paused and stared at him. “They ain’t our friends.”
“No, but they’re everybody’s enemy.” His smile grew wider. “We just need to sic ‘em on the Cagers, man.”
Simon sat silently, his mind slowly perceiving the concept. He began to nod. “Okay, but exactly how do we convince the Crazies to attack them and not eat us in the process?”
Sinner shrugged. “Make them look tastier than we do? I don’t know.”
Shooter stepped into the garage. “We invite them to dinner.”
Simon gave him a confused look. “Come again?”
“I checked every inch of that fence for a way in earlier and it was sealed up tight. They have patrols that walk the fence line, but not constantly.”
Simon shook his head. “Okay, so?”
Shooter stepped closer, but still out of slapping range. “So, a couple of us sneak over there under cover of darkness and we cut the fence. It’s just chain link. Maybe ten foot tall.” He looked to Sinner who was giving him a questioning stare. “Meanwhile, the rest of us find where the Crazies call home and we…get them to follow us. Right to the hole in the fence.” He gave the pair an evil smile.
Sinner shook his head. “You can lead a horse to water, asshole. What makes you think they’d go in there and attack the Cagers?”
Shooter shrugged. “Because that’s where we’ll be.” He leaned against the truck and tapped the bed. “We make a hole big enough to drive this thing through, then drive over the other side, right b
y their front doors. Yeah, the guys on the roof will take a few pot-shots at us but they’ll ALL come outside to see what the noise is. The Crazies see them and pounce.”
Simon stared at the man, mouth hanging open. He glanced to Sinner and slowly smiled. “That just might work.”
Sinner shrugged. “Except for whoever is driving the truck.” He gave Simon a solemn stare. “Whoever is driving is gonna have the Crazies on his ass, pray that the truck will actually knock down that chain link fence and then he has to hope the shooters don’t connect.” He shook his head. “There’s only four of us. Who are you going to send to die?”
Simon wiped at his jaw as he slowly came to his feet. “Maybe nobody has to die.” He tilted the rum bottle back and took another pull. “Except for them, of course.”
25
Hatcher backed the truck to the rear gate of the Assisted Living Center. Roger waved him back then gave the signal to stop. He waved to a couple of the men working. “Grab a wheelbarrow or something will ya? These things are heavy.”
Stanton pulled the gate open and nodded his approval. “Excellent, gentlemen. This will go a long way toward meeting our goal.”
Hatcher slammed the door and leaned against the heavy steel flatbed. “If we’d had more time we could have gone through the RV’s on the lot. Pop the hood, steal the batteries…but the sun is getting a little low.”
Stanton shook his head, an amused smile forming. “Not all RV’s use deep cycle batteries, but not to worry. I’ll go over each of these to ensure that we can utilize them in tandem. I’ll make sure that they’re set up correctly.”
“The wall is coming along nicely.” Roger noted the barbed wire being strung. “They’re damned near finished.”
Stanton appeared proud as he eyed the work done. “The men have really stepped up their efforts. I honestly believe that they’ll be finished before dark.” He gave Hatcher a knowing look. “Much quicker than I previously estimated, by far.”
Hatcher looked to Roger and nodded. “Maybe when we head back we can tell the residents to start packing. I’m sure they’d like to make the move as soon as possible.”
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