DEAD Series [Books 1-12]

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DEAD Series [Books 1-12] Page 26

by Brown, TW


  “Dave Ellis!” I blurted out.

  “You will say nothing,” the cold, self-assured voice I was used to held a bit of a tremor.

  “I got news for ya, doc…in a small group, travelling like we will be, secrets are all but impossible.” I took a long drink. Mostly because I was trying to digest this tidbit of information.

  “Yes, well,” Doctor Zahn was blushing even brighter than before, “David isn’t the most perceptive person.”

  “You made a pass and he missed it.” I tried not to laugh and succeeded, mostly.

  “Be amused if you want,” there was that coldness I was used to, “but it was all I could do to reveal this to you.”

  “Your secret’s safe,” I assured and sat back down. “Seal it with a drink.” I held up my bottle of beer. To her credit, Doctor Zahn picked hers up, we clinked bottles, and each took a long drink.

  We finished our beer in silence, then Doctor Zahn left. I told her to gather any essentials and be ready in five hours. Five hours? Damn. At least I was packed.

  Stretching out on the couch, I double-checked to ensure my alarm was set. Picking up my book, I hoped that I didn’t doze off before finishing those last thirty—

  Another knock at the door!

  “Really?” I said out loud to nobody. Well, whomever it was, they weren’t coming in. I’d do what it took to brush them off. Finishing The Mayor of Casterbridge was now a personal issue.

  “What!” I yanked open the door and barked, hoping to be as off-putting as possible so as to encourage this latest intruder to go away.

  “Steven,” the calm voice deflated my annoyance. As my irritation began to turn quickly to…was it fear?

  “Mister Smith,” I glanced at the two armed soldiers standing behind Randall Smith. “Don’t imagine this is just a social call?”

  Randall Smith doesn’t smile much. That is why, when he glanced over his shoulder at the two armed men, then back at me and smiled…I got more than a little nervous. “Privates Gregg and Hilton were simply kind enough to accompany me because I was negligent and out after dark without my weapon.”

  It was actually a standing order that children under age fifteen remain indoors unless accompanied by an armed escort. Adults were expected to carry a weapon at all times when out at night. There was a “No Exceptions” clause on those orders. It was in place to minimize the risk of somebody being caught unaware by a zombie that managed to slip past the intricate security. I guess that is military thinking: Plan for every possibility.

  “I believe Mister Hobart can escort me back, gentlemen.” Randall Smith raised an eyebrow at me expectantly.

  “Uh…sure,” I said.

  There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence, then I jumped as if I’d been hit with a mild electric shock. Stepping back, I gestured to the impeccably dressed man standing in my doorway. “Please, come in.”

  He did, and just that suddenly, the soldiers turned about-face and departed. Smith glanced around the living quarters, his eyes seeming to take in every detail. He went to my couch, considered the pillow, blanket, and alarm clock, then seated himself in the adjacent chair.

  I’d shut the door, but hadn’t moved. I had no idea where this was about to go. I was trying to find reasons for the neatly arranged row of carry bags sitting along the wall that separated the bedroom and the livingroom.

  “A little light reading?” Mister Smith broke the silence.

  “What?” I was more jumpy at this very moment than I think I’d ever been when we were on the road.

  He waved the bookmarked paperback at me. “I think this is a bit on the heavy side, isn’t it?”

  “It’s entertaining,” I said, and decided to stop acting like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. I walked over, shoved my blanket aside, and sat down.

  “Very seldom can you find somebody so unredeemable,” he waved the book.

  “Oh, they’re out there.” I wasn’t sure where this was headed.

  Once again we sat in silence. I was getting over my uneasiness and making my way to annoyed. If he was here to bust me for leaving, fine. If not, then I wished he’d get to the point.

  “When does your group leave?”

  Okay, no more small talk. I considered playing ignorant, but that row of packed bags sorta ruled that out. Still, if he was asking…

  “Why do you want to know?”

  Mister Smith flipped through the pages of my book, then set it on the coffee table. He folded his hands on his knee, leaned forward, and looked me square in the eyes. “Do you have children?”

  Not what I expected. “Not of my own, but Thalia is mine as far as anybody’s concerned.”

  “Then you may not entirely understand what it means to be a parent.” I started to interrupt, but he raised his hands. “You have some notion, but still, you’ve not raised a child that you fathered.”

  “Your point?” I’d officially reached annoyed and was now considering tossing Mister Smith out my front door.

  “I have a daughter…” his mouth hung open as if he’d forgotten what to say. There was another long moment of silence. This was becoming tedious.

  “As I’m sure you’re aware,” he eventually continued, “there are other outposts like this one. Some on military installations, others in strategic, or perceived strategic locales. Until yesterday, we were in touch directly with five, and indirectly with seventeen more.”

  “Why?” I was suddenly wishing I hadn’t given the doctor my last beer. “What happened yesterday.”

  “The numbers changed to three and nine respectively,” Mister Smith sighed. Suddenly he looked so very tired.

  “Herds?” I asked.

  “In every case but two.”

  “What happened to those?” I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

  “Raiders.” Mister Smith let that word hang for a few seconds. “The undead aren’t our only problem. And, it would seem that certain factions of those who remain alive not only want nothing to do with order, they are thriving quite nicely in the chaos.”

  “This is all well and good, Mister Smith.” I didn’t want to waste any more of my night with casual banter. It was obvious he’d come to my place with a purpose. “I don’t know what any of this has to do with me, so why not just put it on the table.”

  “I have a nine-year-old daughter…here.”

  I didn’t see that coming.

  “She was in my car with me the day I got the phone call. Due to the urgency, I had no choice but to bring her with me.” All of a sudden, the unwaverable Mister Randall Smith was speaking quickly and with emotion. “I had to use a bit of bluster at times, and make threats that I hoped nobody would call me on. Somehow, I managed to bring Emily along with me all the way here. I thought this would be the safest place for her.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I had no idea that his daughter was among the children living here. Also, I had no idea why he was telling me all of this. After giving me a moment to digest all of it, he continued.

  “I have a duty. Even though I doubt we will prevail and turn this around…the whole zombie situation…I have to exhaust every effort,” he said in that curt voice I was accustomed. “We have two herds in the vicinity. One seems to be coming at us. Estimated size is over five thousand.”

  I’d seen handfuls. I’d seen hundreds. But five thousand zombies was something I just could not wrap my mind around. I thought back to that first morning as we passed through Vancouver. There had been so many of those things on both sides of the freeway. Maybe a thousand or two. But they’d been spread out.

  “I’m still a bit fuzzy on why you’re here, Mister Smith,” I said.

  “I want you to bring Emily with you.” What I imagine passed for a smile tried to break through his normal stoic face. “And please, I think at this point it will be okay to call me Randall.”

  “I don’t follow.” I was so very confused.

  “My daughter. Emily. I want you to bring her with you when you and your
group leave the facility.” He gestured at my row of bags. “I assume it is tonight from all the activity at your residence this evening.”

  “There could be a number of reasons I’ve had friends over.” I sounded defensive, and even in my own ears I could hear how weak and flimsy my statement was.

  “And Doctor Zahn?” Mister Smith, or Randall, was all business now. “She doesn’t make house calls. Has no known social circle. Yet, she was with Sergeant Wimmer for about an hour, then came to your place only after waiting for that young lady to leave.”

  “Are you having me watched?” I asked angrily.

  “Having you watched?” he laughed just a bit. “Goodness no. I’ve been doing it all myself. After all, I’m entrusting you with the dearest thing in my life.”

  He a moment to ponder all that I’d just taken in. Even with this gesture, I had trouble envisioning him as the doting father.

  “So why would you send her with me?” I finally asked.

  “I believe her chances for survival are greater than if she stays here,” Randall answered.

  “Then why don’t you leave with us as well?” I wasn’t getting any less confused.

  “I’m sure you’ll think me the perfect bastard,” his voice was just a bit quieter as he spoke. “As I’ve said, I have a duty. One that I take seriously. If I abandon my post, I remove one more obstacle for these abominations. As long as I do what I was assigned, I give anybody who remains working on a solution just a while longer. By walking away from my responsibility, I, in effect, surrender my daughter to this new world. That is something I am not prepared to do.”

  “But just putting her in the care of a total stranger?” I objected. Some of my objection felt genuine. Yet, another part of it had to do with my own fear of responsibility. I was already quite overwhelmed with Thalia.

  “I’ve listened to the debriefing interviews that every civilian who’s arrived here underwent. I heard enough to know you were my choice. I can assure you I did not make this decision lightly or without research.” Randall stood. I thought he was going to end our little meeting. Instead, he stepped around the chair and walked towards the door that led to the bedroom. To Thalia!

  “Whoa!” I sprang to my feet, scrambling to get myself between him and the door. I planted my feet and my hands shot forward. He was close enough that I made contact and rocked him back a bit.

  “That, Steven, is why I’m entrusting my daughter to your care.” Randall folded his arms across his chest and fixed his most serious gaze on me. “In the event that this location is overrun and I’m unable to escape, I want to know I’ve given Emily the best chance of survival possible.”

  My appraisal of this man changed. The look we shared said it all. He knew he would die here, but he was willing to risk everything. If, by holding out one more day, he improved some think-tank or governmental lab’s chances of finding a way to beat this or whatever…then he would do so. Randall Smith took his job seriously. It would appear that he took his responsibility as a father equally serious. In that moment, we both knew one thing with certainty. Randall Smith was a dead man.

  “I’ll do my best,” I promised.

  “I have no doubt.” Randall extended his hand, and we shook. That was the physical act of a vow made and accepted. With a final curt nod, he headed to the front door.

  “Don’t you want that escort home?” I asked as he opened the door to a gentle gust of night air.

  “No,” he turned with a smile that suddenly reminded me of a mischievious school boy, “I like to keep the sentries on their toes. Besides, I think I’ll pay Sergeant Wimmer a visit.”

  With that, he left. I had no doubt in my mind that I’d never see Randall Smith again. I returned to the couch and flopped down. Reaching over to the coffee table, I grabbed my book, flipped to the bookmark and began to read.

  ***

  The drone of my alarm clock woke me. Ten minutes later, Doctor Zahn arrived in the company of a sleepy-eyed girl with slightly Asian features. Her straight, black hair was cut shoulder length and poking out from underneath a dark green stocking cap. I ushered them in, and it was quickly decided that Emily could be put with Thalia. Once we had everything ready, the last thing would be to grab the girls.

  Barry and Randi arrived with Jamie and Teresa. Aaron was next, followed by Dave who I noticed kept trying his hardest not to look at Doctor Zahn. Ain’t love grand? Last was Melissa, but she wasn’t alone. Sergeant Wimmer walked in behind her, and I felt the tension level in the room ratchet up several notches.

  “Paul.” I walked up and shook the man’s hand.

  “I’d like to wish all of you good luck.” Sergeant Paul Wimmer paused a moment to give the group time to relax a bit.

  “Your vehicles are fueled and waiting. I figured that you might fare better with a pair of Hum-vees. Also, I have this.” He produced a map and handed it to me. “It has fueling locations marked based on our latest intel. The ones circled in blue have the least amount of traffic.”

  “Traffic?” Dave Ellis seemed to suddenly snap out of his trance.

  “Zombies,” Teresa said, not hiding her exasperation.

  “Oh.” Dave glanced sheepishly at Doctor Zahn and quickly began polishing his glasses, though I doubted they had even the slightest smudge.

  “Also, I have indicated in black the locations and general directions of the herds we are aware of,” Wimmer announced with emphasis.

  “Thanks for everything, Paul.” I tucked the map inside my leather jacket’s inner pocket.

  “Randall Smith conveys his best wishes as well,” Paul said.

  Once again the tension in the room spiked. “It’s okay, folks.” Now was as good a time as any to reveal the surprise. “We’re bringing his nine-year-old daughter, Emily, with us.”

  My gaze went around the room and I hoped it looked resolute. This wasn’t going to be a debate. It could have been some lingering issues playing in my head, but I thought I saw a touch of disapproval on Barry’s face for a moment. Still, nobody said a word.

  “Y’all best get movin’.” Paul was suddenly as un-military as I’d ever seen.

  “Y’all?” Doctor Zahn smirked.

  “Right now I’m just Paul Wimmer, farm boy from Tennessee. If I was Sergeant Paul Wimmer, United States Army, I’d be preventing your departure,” he said with a broad smile.

  “Can I ask a question…uh…Paul?” Aaron asked with more timidity than I’d ever seen in the boy.

  “Shoot.”

  “Do you think there’ll ever be a United States again?”

  “If I didn’t,” Paul placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “I’d be leavin with you.”

  “Time to get rollin’,” I announced. Gathering up all our things, we’d loaded out in just a couple trips. Patrolling sentries walked past us like we weren’t even there. I guess the word had gone out. On our last trip, we scooped up Thalia and Emily. I wondered how our departure would play among the general population. I was certain that Randall Smith and Paul Wimmer would put a nice spin on the situation. They’d keep the population calm and prevent any sort of mass exodus.

  Doctor Zahn, Dave, and Melissa climbed in to the Hum-vee with me. Of course that was the vehicle we’d put Thalia and Emily in. Both girls managed to remain asleep as we got the vehicles started up and rolling through the main entry-gates. I was only a little surprised to discover Randall at the checkpoint shack with the man who opened the inner gate. He glanced in the back before coming to my rolled down window.

  “There’s a Forestry Department service road about a half mile down. Take it,” he said. I noticed two things immediately: first, his voice had just a slight tremor, second, a line of perspiration was visible on his upper lip. “No matter what you hear, and that includes on your radios, don’t come back.”

  “Take care of yourselves,” I said. Randall stepped back and I pulled forward into the sally-port. The Hum-vee with Jamie, Teresa, Aaron, Randi, and Barry nosed in behind us. The gate closed and, aft
er a moment’s wait, the outer gate opened.

  We rolled forward and emerged onto the two-lane road that served as the only way in or out of this pencil-dot-on-a-map of a town. The darkness swallowed our former home in seconds. I glanced up to see thick clouds roll in front of the moon.

  The patrols had done an excellent job of dropping any roamers that may have been in the area. We saw absolutely no movement in our headlights as we drove down the gentle slope of the hill this town sat perched upon. We turned onto the service road, and were quickly engulfed by the canopy of a pine forest.

  Less than five minutes out, we heard the first distinct sounds of gunfire. I slowed to a stop and dialed in what I knew to be the compound’s emergency frequency on my radio.

  “…up from three sides!” That sounded like Anton Maxwell. I realized that I had seen very little of him since our arrival at Serenity Base. He seemed to prefer the company of the soldiers.

  “…bring the heavy machine guns to the south wall…”

  “…is that an armored Greyhound bus?”

  “…RPGs incoming, I repeat RP—”

  A few seconds later a series of muffled explosions sounded.

  “Perimeter is breached on the south barricade,” the familiar voice of Sergeant Wimmer crackled on my radio.

  “We’ve got undead inside the wire!”

  So was it a herd, or was it raiders? Could it be both? What the hell was going on? The radio crackled to life, but whoever pushed the button hadn’t likely done so intentionally, because one of those screams sounded, followed by wet ripping sounds, and the all-too-familiar moans of the undead.

  The headlights behind me flicked, snapping my attention away from the radio. Everybody in the Hum-vee was staring at me with uncertainty. I switched the radio off and continued deeper into the forest along the heavily overgrown service road.

  ***

  Morning found us parked on a ridge that allowed us to look into the tiny burgh of Kamela. This was the last known location of our friends Ian, Joseph, and Billy…along with the rest of their group.

 

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