by Dan DeWitt
Trager said, “I need a moment with him.” He motioned for Holt to take a seat.
“What's that?”
“Your contract.”
“Ugh.”
“Relax. Robertson? In English, if you please.”
The man in the expensive suit said, “It's a solid contract. It states that Ralston gives up any right to press charges upon completion of this one-year term of employment. During that one year, you will be assigned as the commander of Operation: Reclaimer, permanently stationed on the island, of course. Leave can be arranged, although it has to be approved by your superior.”
“Ralston.”
“Of course. Your specific mission is to terminate as many undead beings on the island as possible, utilizing methods that you, as commander, deem to be most effective. By the end of your year, you will be released from any obligation, provided that you have set up a satisfactory permanent operation to continue the work. Day-to-day operations including manning, tactics, and leave, are in your hands, although you are ultimately accountable to Ralston. He's giving you a lot of latitude, even though you laid him out, which, between you and me, means he needs you. Based upon your previous military service and … unique … experience with the targets, you are being given a field commission of Captain with commensurate pay and privilege.”
“What about Ethan?”
“His service is strictly voluntary and he can end it at any time, although while in service, he is expected to adhere to the chain of command. He,” Robertson flipped back a few pages, “is being given a special commission of Second Lieutenant, based upon his island experience and the fact that Ralston believes you'd insist upon it anyway. This commission can be negotiated after one year.”
“Sweet!” Ethan chimed in.
“I'll need one more of those.”
Robertson scribbled a few notes in a change form. “I'll see if I can get you the authority to grant them yourself. Shouldn't be a problem. Other than that, basic stuff. Non-disclosure agreement, debriefing upon completion of the assignment, etc. There is a media clause in here which will force you to escort reporters and camera crew for the purpose of real-time broadcasting.”
Holt balked. “Absolutely not. There's no way I'm allowing anyone without real combat training on that island.”
Trager said, “Ralston will insist that people have a right to know what's going on. I can't say I completely disagree. I don't think that you'll win this one."
Holt sighed. "Fine. They're not my responsibility." He pointed at the contract. "I want that in there."
"Will do. Any other objections?"
"Now that you mention it, yes. No unannounced visits by Ralston. I report directly to Martin, not him. Any of my lieutenants can opt out of their commission at any time. And one reporter, one cameraman. That's it."
Robertson scribbled the requests down and took a moment to consider them. "Any wiggle room on these?"
"None."
"Okay, but you need to understand that you have to be prepared to walk away from the table to get these."
"Meaning?"
"You go to jail."
"Fuck him."
Robertson chuckled. "I'll take that as a yes."
Trager said, "Hey, I don't pay you for the easy stuff. Make it happen."
"On it." He headed back to the table and began negotiating again.
Holt and Trager watched from a distance. The men at the table were arguing, then seemed to come to a consensus.
Robertson returned and said, “Counteroffer. The opt-outs are a go. No unannounced visits, but he reserves the right to inspect your setup as soon as the school's secure. You still ultimately are accountable to him, but for the day-to-day you report to Mr. Trager and submit a daily written briefing. You also get the two-man camera crew of his choice, but have to wear body cams while on-duty."
Ethan said, "Body cams aren't a terrible idea."
Holt didn't say anything.
"Something I need to know?" Robertson asked.
"Nope, just making him wait."
"Can we just do this already?" Ethan asked.
“I'm with the kid,” Trager said, and approached the table.
Ralston sat down, and everyone else wearing uniform followed suit.
Holt nodded. “Where do we start?”
Ralston slid a stack of requisition sheets over to him. He pulled out high-end pen and slid that over, too. “Just tell us what you need, Captain.”
Bon Voyage
Holt pulled as close to the dock as he could, parking spots be damned. He turned off the engine and left the keys dangling in the ignition. The truck wasn't going to stay there long.
“I hate this.” Jackie had been crying off and on for the better part of an hour, but she seemed to have mostly come to grips that she was going to have to say goodbye to her boys for a little while. “It's just so stupid.” Her fingers flexed around the handles of what she normally used as her beach bag, and Holt wondered why she'd brought that instead of her everyday purse.
“Stupid just happens to be our specialty, Ma.” Ethan got out of the truck and walked to the truck bed.
Rachel and his parents joined him at the back of the truck. Ethan dropped the gate and grabbed a duffel bag. The name “C. Holt” was stenciled on it, and he handed it to his father, who hoisted it onto his shoulder. Ethan and Rachel did the same with their bags. Holt reached into the truck box and grabbed a smaller backpack.
“What's that?” Jackie asked.
“Just a few things I couldn't fit in the bag.”
Jackie slid it off of his shoulder and slung it on her own. She smiled. “Come on. I'll walk you three to work.”
The closer they got to the pier, the thicker the crowd got. The official departure hadn't been announced, but word had gotten out, and several hundred people crowded the fence to get a look at Holt and his team. They clapped as he approached the checkpoint. He turned around and gave them a wave, then turned to the guard.
“Go right ahead, sir, and good luck,” the guard said as he checked off Holt's name. He waved Ethan and Rachel through after they showed their identification, but he stopped Jackie. “I'm sorry, ma'am, no civilians past this point.”
Holt, the only one in uniform, cleared his throat and pointed to his name tag. “Who would you call to have someone authorized?”
The guard shuffled his paperwork nervously. “Uh, you, sir.” He hesitated, unsure what to write.
“It's Jackie, sweetie.”
He smiled and wrote it down. “Thank you, ma'am. Go right ahead.”
The four of them walked down the pier to the waiting ferry. The sound of Holt's boots hitting the wood was magnified by the lack of any conversation. They checked in with the final guard, who informed him that they were the last to arrive.
An airman approached and asked if they needed anything from their duffel bags. “They'll arrive after you secure the school and give the word.”
Jackie began to cry again, and her goodbyes came quickly. She hugged Ethan and Rachel fiercely. She kissed her husband and broke away before he was ready. He reached out for her again, but she was already out of reach. She walked backward on the pier and said, “You take care of each other. I won't lose any of you, understand?” She turned around and quickened her pace.
Holt watched her until she made it to the truck and got in. He motioned for the other two to get on the ferry, all the while hating himself for screwing up so badly. He stepped on, and a crew member closed the door behind him.
The first familiar face he saw was Martin Trager.
“I didn't think you were coming with us,” Holt said.
“I wanted to see you off, and I'll be checking in daily. If and when you actually need anything, you call me.”
“Speaking of which, communications?”
“Secure the school and the surrounding area. Then, we'll send in C.E. to set up power and your comm. You'll have phones, internet, satellite TV, everything. But you're going to have to wor
k for it, first. Let's head up front and enjoy the view.”
Trager led the way. He casually motioned to Holt's requested transportation. “Those Jeeps are nice, but you're gonna love these mobile command centers. You have three. If you absolutely had to, you could organize the whole op from just one of them. They're heavy enough, and they retrofitted those stabilizer things. They won't break any speed records, but you could ride out a pretty big storm in one.”
“Perfect. How much?”
“Even though it's not our money, you don't want to know. Come on. There's a few people I want you to meet.”
Holt saw the camouflaged uniforms, approximately sixty strong, well before he made it to the bow of the ship. Most of the soldiers were leaning over the rail, staring out at the water. The few that were already looking in his direction straightened up as he approached. The movement rippled through the crowd until every set of eyes was upon him. Tino and German stared at him, possibly wondering if there was any residual resentment from the dustup at the gala.
Holt was about to introduce himself, when he was distracted by one particular group of soldiers, which included Ethan and Rachel.
Tim was the first to salute, but the others followed suit.
Trager leaned in and said, “I made some calls.”
O
“You're all idiots.”
Fish responded, “Yeah, but we're your idiots.”
“We weren't going to let you do this alone.”
“Lena,” Holt motioned around, “do I look alone?”
“You know what I mean.”
Despite himself, Holt nodded. “Thanks.”
“I barely had to ask any of them,” Trager said. “I get the feeling they were all just waiting for my call.”
“Imagine that.” They all leaned over the railing and wordlessly enjoyed the trip.
Some time later, Holt saw that they were approaching shore. He thought he could make out several human-sized shapes moving around near the water. He wasn't surprised. After nearly a year without fresh meat, the zombies were probably scattered all over the island. He was immediately all business.
He walked to the center, whistled, and said, “Showtime. Mount up.”
They walked to the vehicles. “Four to a Jeep, the rest in the command centers.” Holt climbed behind the wheel of one of the SUVs. He was joined by Ethan, Rachel, and Fish. Tim, Lena, Tino, and German climbed into another. Everyone else piled into the larger vehicles.
The ferry reached its destination and docked. The large door dropped and Holt wasted no time in leading the convoy off of the boat. He knew that this was a dangerous way to begin the mission, but they had no choice. The zombies noticed the Jeep right away and sprinted right for him. Holt had hoped that time would have torn the zombies down so that they were nothing more than shambling husks, but they could still apparently run a person down.
He gunned the engine and drew them away from the ferry. He was happy to see that no zombies came rushing out of the woods. They wouldn't even have to contend with the handful that were already there yet.
Orpheus kept the Jeep at a crawl and let the zombies come. They pawed ineffectively at the windows. He watched in the rearview mirror as the rest of the vehicles fell in behind him. His passengers were strangely calm. They'd all seen far worse than this.
Orpheus grabbed a handheld radio. “I want everyone to take a good look at these things as you pass them. You're going to be tempted to underestimate their tenacity. Your mind still wants to think they're human. You'll know differently soon enough. I don't want you to get comfortable here. I want you scared, because fear keeps you sharp. You need to be able to comprehend that these are dead people, and if you're not careful, you could end up just like them. Never, never, let your guard down.”
He paused to let it sink in. When he figured his point had been made, he guided the Jeep down the access road. He hadn't been off the island long enough to forget the way to the school, so most of his attention was spent weaving around the zombies that had wandered onto the roads.
“Those things are everywhere,” Rachel said. “This is going to take a while.”
Fish said, “The good news is that the school should still be clear. That building is like a fortress.”
“Against zombies, anyway,” Ethan mumbled.
Orpheus almost asked, What do you mean? but managed to catch himself in time. Ethan had lost a lot of friends to a different kind of monster in that school, and it was something that he and Rachel were going to have to deal with soon. He decided to give Ethan something to do, instead. “Get a radio check, Lieutenant.”
“Got it.” He began to go through the call signs.
O
“You going to answer that?” Tim asked from the driver's seat. Tino didn't answer, so Tim reached over and tapped him on the shoulder.
Tino's eyes had been glued to the scene outside, but he jumped and yelped when Tim touched him.
“The radio,” Tim said. “They're calling us.”
“Oh.” He brought the radio to his mouth. “Zulu 2,” he read off of a label on the truck's dashboard, “loud and clear.”
“Sure hope it stays that way,” German added from the back seat. “Jesus Christ. Those are dead people out there.”
Lena, seated next to him, said, “Sure are. And you don't ever want to get up close and personal.”
“I mean, we talked about it during the mission planning so many times. It was kind of abstract. Seeing it is just … wicked screwed up.” German jumped as a zombie ran into the car and careened off. “Fuck me!” When his breathing returned to normal, he said, “I'm gonna die here.”
Lena asked, “It's Mark, right?” German nodded. “Relax, Mark. You'll be fine.” She patted his thigh for emphasis.
“Do you ever ...” Tino's voice trailed off.
Tim finished for him. “Get used to it? I thought I would, but I was way wrong. Just stay alert, listen to the people with experience, and you should be fine. Probably. Lena's running the show, so you're in good hands.”
Lena smiled and theatrically wiggled her fingers. “Magic hands.”
Tim continued. “We survived with a lot less resources than what we have now. We have numbers, firepower, supplies, and whatever else we need whenever we need it. And we have Orpheus. The rest of us are pretty much along for the ride.”
Tino craned his neck and looked at German, then at Tim. “Preaching to the choir on that one.”
Trial by Fire
Well, that didn't take long.
Orpheus put the Jeep in park and stared at the horde in front of them. They hadn't been noticed yet, but that wouldn't last forever. He turned in his seat and said, "Rachel, there should be some binoculars in the back."
"On it." She bent over the seats and rummaged through the gear. "Got 'em."
"Are they heavy?" Fish asked.
Rachel weighed them in her hand. "I guess so. Why?"
"Then they're expensive, put them back," Fish said with a smirk.
Rachel rolled her eyes and handed the binoculars to Orpheus.
"That was Jurassic Park, y'all."
Ethan said, "Shut it, Fish."
Orpheus hit a button on the ceiling and the moon roof slid open. He said, "Keep an eye out," and lifted himself through the opening. He sat on the roof and raised the binoculars. He scanned the tree line on either side of them. The visibility was good, and he was reasonably certain that, even if there were zombies in the woods, they would just be individual strays.
The group in front of them, however...
"About sixty," he said to the passengers below him.
"You think we could find a way around?" Tim asked.
"I know we could," Orpheus said, "but that's not why we're here. Might as well find out what kind of soldiers we have as early as possible. Just give me a minute to think of a strategy."
Ethan put his hands on the roof and hauled himself up as Orpheus made room for him.
"What's on your mind, Lieutena
nt?"
"You think this is a good idea, Dad?" He noticed his father's amused look. "Captain Dad. We're the only ones who have any experience with this. Maybe we should get to the school first."
"I get what you're saying, but what if the other way is blocked, too? Better to jump in with both feet while we have a simple egress. And I want to know if anyone doesn't have the nerve before they're in a position where they can compromise us."
Ethan nodded. "In that case, I have an idea of how we can do it safely."
He explained, and Orpheus said, "Do it."
Ethan spoke into his radio and coordinated the vehicles. Per his instructions, each of the three command centers pulled parallel to each other, diagonally across the road. Each one dropped its stabilizers, anchoring them. Lastly, the smaller vehicles plugged the gaps.
Ethan had created a wall of metal that, even if the worst happened, the Jeeps wouldn't become overwhelmed by zombies, and each of the vehicles could just simply drive away from danger, if it came to that. When Ethan was satisfied, he looked to Orpheus, who nodded his approval.
Ethan called for Zulu 2. After they had responded, Ethan told them what he wanted. He was met with a shaky "copy" from Constantino, but he saw a confident thumbs-up from Tim.
O
Tino locked the transmitter back in place. "Any sense in objecting?"
"I'm with him," German added.
"Nope," Tim said flatly. "It's a good plan."
"Your boss does know that there are two people in this car who have no experience dealing with these things, right?"
"Three."
Tino looked at Lena. "Come again?"
"The closest I came to them was walking by a few one time. Other than that, I was pretty isolated from them."
"So why aren't you freaking out?"
"Because I trust my friends."
Tim put it in drive and moved forward slowly. "Relax. We don't even have to engage, which tells me that Orpheus already trusts you to an extent. We're just bait. Which would be really ironic, if you had been on the island with me."