Dead Force Box Set

by S D Tanner

  Judge’s hand landed heavily on his shoulder. “Tag!”

  Ignoring Judge, he leaned into Jessica’s face until they were only inches apart. “You’re only where you are because Judge trusts you. Do not let him down by being weak.”

  Lolo pushed him away. “You’re an asshole.”

  Turning away from the angry face that didn’t match Jessica’s usually placid nature, he saw Judge staring at him in shock. “Tag, what the fu…”

  Cocking his head and giving Judge a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he cut off his words. “Sometimes you catch more flies with shit.”

  Joker snorted. “Treat ‘em mean and keep ‘em keen.”

  Judge stared at them, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. When he turned to talk to Lolo, it was clear she was already gone, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

  He shook his head. “There’s nothing to let go of, Judge. She works for us or she’s enemy. There is no middle ground.”

  CHAPTER TEN: Dogs at War

  “What’s in it for me?”

  Although his immediate thought was a bullet through the head, he gave Merc an empty stare. “We already agreed terms.” Leaning forward at the table in the underground room, he added, “You wanted a piece of my real estate.”

  “That was before I knew what you had in mind.”

  “And what is that exactly?”

  Merc leaned back in his chair, showing two handguns, one strapped to each side of his belt as if he was a modern-day gunslinger. “Brook tells me you have a ship and an army.” Winking conspiratorially, Merc added, “Man could do a lot of damage with that.”

  The five o’clock shadow gave Merc a homeless look, which he supposed he was, but the smug expression meant he didn’t see himself as the underdog. Merc’s ignorant observation demonstrated just how little he understood about military operations. Not only couldn’t they do much damage, his chat with Lolo proved the aliens knew how weak his position was. Merc would only back him if he believed they would win, but he wasn’t sure they could. Despite forming an army, stealing three arks, and destroying over a thousand robot gunners, the aliens still didn’t see him as a threat. It would be easy to assume the enemy were stupid, but he didn’t believe they were. Any alien species capable of using humans as slaves to take over Earth, should not be underestimated.

  Seeing Judge shoot him a warning look, he leaned back into his own chair. “I have twenty thousand trained and immortal soldiers.”

  A throaty chuckle came from deep inside Merc’s broad chest. “Not much of any army. They’re unarmed.”

  He gave a dismissive wave. “We’re sorting that out.” Glancing at Brooke who was standing behind Merc’s chair, he added, “We’ve been to more of the floating cities.”

  Giving him a warm smile that he’d done nothing to earn, she asked, “What did you find?”

  “Manufacturing.”

  “Really,” Merc replied, sitting forward in his chair. “What were they making?”

  “Not sure yet.”

  “Which city was it?”

  “The one over the arks.”

  Merc gave a respectful nod, clearly impressed. “That city makes the beacons.”

  “How do you know that?”

  The two men with Merc looked at one another and laughed. After giving his men a sly wink, Merc grinned at him. “Every so often that city craps beacons. It’ll dump one every ten minutes for days and then it shuts down again. Dunno what else it does the rest of the time, but it definitely shits beacons.”

  They should have talked to Merc earlier, but the man disgusted him. “Do you know what the other cities do?”

  “What’s it worth to you?”

  Standing behind him, Judge cleared his throat as a warning not to kill Merc. It was timely advice, particularly since had instinctively flinched toward his blade. Launching across the table and slitting Merc’s throat would only take a few seconds. The man would be dead before his idiot henchmen could react, and they wouldn’t even have time to save themselves before Judge and Rok shot them.

  “I don’t have any real estate to give you.”

  Merc widened his eyes, smiling amiably. “But you’re going to get some, right?”

  It was a filthy deal. Merc wouldn’t commit without knowing his cut, but he didn’t want the man anywhere near the base once he had it. “That’s the plan.”

  “If I help you then how do I know you’ll share the spoils?” Merc ran his hand around his always wet-looking mouth and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Usually I’d take hostages, but…” He half-turned in his chair to look at Brook. “She likes you, but I’m not sure how mutual that is.”

  Brook gave him a quick look as if to confirm Merc was right. Women were proving to be the key to his war. Jessica could break their protocols and Lolo was an unwilling spy, now Brook would be held hostage to ensure he kept his end of the deal.

  Returning Brook’s worried look with as much warmth as he could muster, he replied, “I won’t dump her.”

  “But you did already.”

  Seeming keen to explain his actions, Brook leaned into Merc. “He didn’t know. It was my fault. I should have told him how it worked.”

  Rising to his feet, he loomed over Merc. “If she doesn’t come back to me in good condition, I’ll rip your heart out through your ass.”

  Merc’s eyes hardened and then he stood, thrusting out his hand. “Deal.”

  Briefly shaking the hand and relieved he was wearing gloves, he said, “I need your weapons and supply lines.”

  Merc’s tone smoothly switched from fighter to businessman. “I have several sites manufacturing bullets, frags, IEDs, and rockets.” His mouth turned downward. “It’s not automated and production takes time, but I’m not trying to start a war.”

  “Are you stockpiled?” Judge asked.

  “Some, but not enough for what you need.”

  “We’ll take what you have. When can you deliver?”

  Raising his hand to silence Judge, Merc shook his head. “Not so fast. I’m not letting you take control of my guns and ammo without my men.” His upper lipped curled. “I’m sure you’re real trustworthy ‘n all, but I’m not demilitarizing my army.”

  He didn’t miss Rok’s sarcastic snort and nor did he disagree. Merc couldn’t demilitarize an army he didn’t have. His men were nothing more than thugs, and they couldn’t be compared to the Dead Force. His own lip curled in disgust. “How’s that gonna work? Are your troops going to do our killing for us?”

  Merc raised his hand again. “No, no, of course not. The Dead Force are in battalions and squads. Just add my troops to their numbers.”

  Looking up at Judge, he saw him give a slight nod. Blending their armies was both clever and stupid at the same time. Merc would get an insight into the aliens while keeping control of his weapons, but that assumed the Dead Force wouldn’t kill his men and take their guns.

  “Will your men follow my orders?”

  “They’ll do what I tell them to do.”

  “What about the civilians? They’re armed.”

  Merc shrugged. “All the decent shooters work for me.”

  When Judge gave an imperceptible shrug, he knew the deal was good enough for now. Nodding, he flicked his chin at Brook. “And she works for me.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Brook is a Commander in the Dead Force army. Her job is to communicate with the civilians. She’ll follow my orders and not yours.”

  Giving him a quizzical look, Merc shrugged again. “Sounds like a non-job, but whatever floats ya boat.”

  Not looking at Merc, he watched Brook’s face flush a bright red. They’d never talked about her working for his army, but it was the only way to get a message to her. She would enlist civilians to his side and be his informant. Merc might think he cared about her and hold her hostage, but that wasn’t why he wouldn’t abandon her.
No man or woman would be left behind, no matter how little he felt for them.

  Looking at Merc, he said brusquely, “The first mission is to clear the city.”

  “Of what?”

  “Hunters and any alien weapons. The city will be my first base.”

  “First?” Merc asked with a deep chuckle. “Ambitious fella, aren’t ya.”

  “I need somewhere to drop half a million sleepers.”

  “And you think a city where they can’t grow food is a good place?”

  Brook glowered at Merc. “They can move to the country later.” She tilted her head at Merc, narrowing her eyes in a way that made it clear she didn’t like him. “You’re forgetting that Tag has teleportation because you don’t.”

  Although she looked fragile and doe-eyed, he had no doubt Brook would give Merc a run for his money. After giving Brook a genuinely warm smile, he nodded at Merc. “You have your orders.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: Year Zero

  “Ash says you have to see it,” Joker said.

  “Tell him I don’t have time for a vacation right now.”

  He was standing inside the ruins of another city, surrounded by twisted metal and shattered buildings. Ash had taken an expeditionary force to the closest city in search of anything they could use. Although Rok hadn’t seen the point, Judge had said it was good for training, which he supposed it was. Much like their own awakening, the Dead Force were confused and struggling to understand what had happened to them. Most of them were blindly following orders, but Rok said some were starting to show signs of stress. Some of the soldiers were talking about breaking away and heading for the hills while they waited for everything to blow over. Dissention in the ranks was normal and, providing it was nothing more than idle talk, he could ignore it. Even knowing that, he was missing a trick. Without him the Dead Force would become an idle army, and that was never a good thing.

  “Joker, change of plan. Teleport me to Ash’s position.”

  As the surrounding city disintegrated, the familiar peace of being nowhere and everywhere at the same time fell over him. His relationship with Judge was becoming bipolar. Every time the subject of Lolo came up, they were at loggerheads with one another. Although Judge clearly saw Lolo as one of them, the fact she could spit yellow acid meant she was no longer human. Jessica kept asking him what made them human. Although the Dead Force had been aptly named, he still saw them as human. The only version of Jessica he could speak to was a robot, yet she was more human than anyone else. Lolo and the other hybrid clearly saw themselves as human rather than aliens, and if DNA no longer defined someone as human, then he was going to need a whole new set of criteria.

  His thoughts were interrupted by Ash, who was looking at him quizzically. “That was fast.”

  Glancing around the collapsing building, he was inside what must have once been a large foyer. “Teleportation works like that.”

  “I know, but I miss regular transports. They gave me time to think.”

  The woman standing next to Ash was virtually bald with a young and finely boned face. She looked him up and down, clearly curious. “So, you’re Commander Tag.”

  Overhearing her remark, the man in front of them spun around and gave him the once over. “I was expecting more.”

  Returning their judgmental stares with one of his own, he sniffed derisively. “Likewise.”

  To his surprise, the woman gave him a wide smile. “Ash said you didn’t take shit.”

  “Then why are you trying it on?”

  She shrugged. “Testing the water, I guess.” Thrusting out a gloved hand, she added, “Genevieve, but call me Viv.”

  “You got a rank and title, Viv?”

  When Viv’s face crumpled with confusion, Ash placed his hand on her arm. “Slow down, Tag. A lot of them don’t remember much.” Frowning at him, he added, “Do you remember how it was when Jessica first broke our protocols?”

  He did and awareness came slowly like a dripping tap. Looking at Viv, he asked, “What do you remember?”

  She shook her head. “Not a lot.”

  Glancing past her at the man, he asked, “What about you?”

  The man shrugged. “I know people called me Dave.” Dave’s eyes looked up at the sky as if he were accessing a long-buried memory. “I died in 2122. That was a bad year. Lots of casualties.”

  “2122?”

  “Yeah, the year we went to war with Europe.”

  Glancing at Ash, he asked, “Do you remember being at war with Europe?”

  “Nope. My memory stops around 2049. What about you?”

  He hadn’t tried to map his memories by year, but he should have. Turning around, Ash’s platoon of fifty men and women were standing behind them listening to their conversation. Catching the eye of the soldiers closest to him, he said, “I’m Commander Tag and you answer to me.”

  The man tilted his head, clearly unimpressed by his short introduction. “Why?” Gesturing at the soldiers around him, he added, “We’re dead and it ain’t 2083 no more.”

  It was another year that didn’t match the others and he stepped forward. “What year did each of you die?”

  The soldiers called out different years until he couldn’t make any sense of them. Waving his gloved hand, he shouted over their voices. “Line up by date of death.”

  Ash stepped forward and shouted, “Line up left to right. Earliest to latest.”

  Although his leadership was being questioned, Ash had more credibility than he did. The soldiers began shuffling between one another until he was facing a row of fifty men and women. Pointing to the last man on the left, he asked, “What year did you die?”

  “2025.”

  Although his memory was flaky, he knew the year Daisy had been born, and roughly how old she’d been the last time he’d seen her. By his estimation, he must have died around the same time. “Same year as me.” Pointing to the next person in line. “What about you?”

  “2027.”

  Walking along the line, each soldier said the date they’d died. “2029.” “2042.” “2056.” Eventually the numbers became a blur until the last man said, “2130.”

  Lunar Horizon must have spent a hundred years accumulating dead troopers until they had enough to wreck civilization forever. What year had Lunar Horizon used the Dead Force to pull the trigger? Although he’d understood what they’d been used for, he hadn’t known when civilization had ended. Learning how long Lunar Horizon had taken to build the Dead Force made his skin go colder than it already was. How many soldiers had they collected into their puppet army? He’d only found twenty thousand soldiers, but there had to be more. Were they sleeping in pods under the ocean? If they were, then he would be fighting his own troops.

  Walking to a man who said he’d died in 2090, he asked, “What was Earth like then? Was the country still intact? Was it safe?”

  The man shrugged. “Safe enough, I guess. There was crime, but it was ok.”

  “So, people had jobs. The cities were intact. Life was…normal?”

  “Guess so. Why?”

  Running his hand across his face, he couldn’t quite wipe away his smile. “I had a daughter. Her name was Daisy.” Relief was flooding through him, making him want to laugh out loud. “You’ve just told me we didn’t kill her.” He slapped the man’s shoulder, unable to contain his elation. “I didn’t kill her.”

  A woman stepped out from the line to his right, meaning she’d died closer to the date civilization must have ended. “What are you talking about?”

  Turning on his heel, he glanced at Ash in surprise. “Don’t they know?”

  “Recall is slow, and it’s never complete.”

  A murmur of voices echoed around the foyer and, sounding shrill, the woman asked, “What don’t we know?”

  Facing the line of soldiers, he raised his hand for silence. “We are…no, we were Defensors for the aliens.” The faces in front of him remained blank, clearly not underst
anding what that meant. “We were their army. They used us to destroy our own country. Ask the survivors. They’ll tell you we attacked every city, killing everyone until the country was broken.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I didn’t do that.”

  “I would remember that.”

  “No fucking way."

  Raising his hand again, he shook his head. “I know, I know, it’s unbelievable.” He tapped his eye piece. “This isn’t just for show. Our brains are part mech. That’s how we’ve been controlled.” Pointing at the ceiling, he added, “There’s a woman called Jessica being held prisoner in a floating city. The aliens use her on the arks and she broke the protocols they used to control us.”

  The man at the far right of the line walked toward him at a slow and deliberate pace. Reaching his position, he then turned to face the platoon. “He’s telling the truth.”

  “How do you know that?” The woman asked.

  “I died in 2130.” Tapping his chest, he added, “I remember killing people, it was a bloodbath, but I didn’t know who they were or why I killed them.” Turning to face him, the man saluted. “Sergeant Samuel Stock reporting for duty, sir.” Before he could return the man’s salute, he turned to face the platoon again. “We were used to break something we loved. None of you may remember it, but I do.” Stock’s voice became guttural, as if he had to force the words from his mouth. “We annihilated the innocent. They never stood a chance. The streets ran with blood.” Taking a deep breath, he blew it out in a steady stream, seeming to gather his composure. “We start again. This is Year Zero.”

  At first there was only silence, but then a voice called out. “Year Zero.”

  More voices joined the first until the words echoed against the crumbling walls inside the foyer. “Year Zero! Year Zero! Year Zero!”

  While the platoon chanted what he knew would become their war cry, Ash whispered into his ear. “You need to see what we found.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE: Prisoners of War