The Dead Series (Book 4): Dead End

by Jon Schafer

  Seeing Steve’s quizzical look, he explained, “Most of the military grade stuff we picked up was from National Guard units that had been wiped out by the dead. They were exposed to the elements, so we had to move fast before they turned to rusted shit.”

  “I can relate,” Steve told him.

  “You stayed alive this long, so I guess you can,” Rick said as he eyed the M4 assault rifle in Steve’s hands. “I was living in Jasper, Texas, when it first started. There were about thirty or forty members of the militia back then. We tried to hold the town, but it was useless. Just when you thought you had an area secured, one of the Ds would pop up and infect someone, who infected someone else, and so on. When I saw it was hopeless, I took what was left of my people and headed for the woods. We built tree houses to live in, but we kind of outgrew them when we took in a couple small groups. We decided that we needed something better, so we pulled out the maps and took a hard look at what was around us. We knew we needed water, so we headed for the lake. It’s also got the water treatment plant nearby. That’s where we built our main base and fortified it against an attack.”

  “Main base?” Tick-Tock asked.

  Rick nodded and replied, “We’ve got four other bases. Not as big as Fort Redoubt, but they’ve all got good defenses with good escape routes in case the shit hits the fan.” Continuing with his story, he said, “Pretty soon, word got around about Fort Redoubt and people started coming to us for refuge. No one was turned away, except for a few bottom feeders. We took in a couple of big groups of people fleeing Dallas/Fort Worth, so we decided to expand. That’s when we set up the first of our other forts.”

  “Did your people plow the fields that we passed by right before you picked us up?” Steve asked.

  Rick nodded and said, “That’s one of our spots. We’ve got a couple closer to the fort, but we need to feed two thousand plus people -”

  “Two thousand plus?” Steve asked incredulously, cutting him off.

  Rick smiled and said, “Give or take a dozen. Everyone is free to leave if they want, but most stay. Everyone is assigned a job when they get here, and if you don’t work, you don’t eat. We’ve pretty much picked the area around us clean of food and supplies, so we have to go back to basics to survive.”

  Distracted by Tick-Tock as he leaned down to check on Denise, Steve watched as his friend bunched numerous blankets around her to cushion her from the bumpy ride. After they had boarded the truck and started off, she had become sick from the swaying ride and started to vomit. Tick-Tock’s people, as Steve called those he used to call the others, had immediately come forward with their sleeping bags and blankets. Since then, she hadn’t gotten worse, but she hadn’t gotten any better.

  Rick looked down at Denise and said, “My guess is a concussion or a skull fracture.”

  When he saw Denise was doing all right, Tick-Tock asked, “Do you have medical facilities?”

  “We’ve got an infirmary, but our X-ray machine leaves a lot to be desired,” Rick told him.

  Just the thought of finding out if Denise had a fractured skull made Tick-Tock lean forward and ask excitedly, “You have an X-ray machine?”

  Rick nodded and said, “We do, but like I said, it leaves a lot to be desired. We don’t have any plates or any way to develop film, so we hooked it up to a screen. It throws off a shitload of radiation, so anytime we have to use it, we make it quick. We have no idea of how many rads it throws off, but the people we’ve used it on haven’t started to glow in the dark, so that’s a plus. We know it’s dangerous, so we only use it when we have to.”

  The truck started to slow, causing everyone to crane their necks to see what was going on, and that was when the refugees from the insane asylum got their first look at the outer defenses of Fort Redoubt.

  The undergrowth and trees had been cut back in a twenty foot wide swath in which triple coils of razor wire had been laid out in a pyramid shape. This fence stretched off from either side of the road as far as the eye could see. A Jeep, similar to the one that Rick had approached them in, was moving away from them at slow speed, the person manning its .50 caliber machine gun slowly swiveling the barrel back and forth as he searched for targets. The vehicle travelled along twin ruts that had been worn down by much use, telling Steve that this was a regularly patrolled area. Looking further down the line, he could make out the top of a watchtower poking out of the fir trees.

  “You’re not screwing around,” he commented.

  “This is the first of the outer defenses,” Rick told him. There’s another line like this a hundred feet further on, and then the fort itself.”

  “Must have been a bitch to cut back all those trees,” Tick-Tick said.

  “That was the easy part,” Rick told him. “We used dynamite and C4 on them. The hard part came when the explosions attracted dead-asses for miles.”

  The truck started picking up speed after passing through an opening in the wire. As they moved through it, Steve could see two people swing a six foot high wooden gate into place behind them and secure it with chains. Feeling a momentary surge of dread, he studied Rick Styles for any signs that this was a set up. He knew that Styles’ and his people could have cut them down where they stood when they came across them at the fire break, but maybe the good guy act was just that. An act. Maybe this was how they sucked people in before robbing and killing them. The defenses of Fort Redoubt were meant to keep the dead out, but they would also be more than sufficient to keep anyone from escaping. Looking at Tick-Tock, he could see that his friend was thinking the same thing, too.

  As if sensing their apprehension, Rick Styles said, “You have nothing to worry about, no one in my group is going to hurt you.” He paused before adding, “Unless you try to hurt one of us. We have some rules at the fort, and number one is that you don’t kill the living.”

  Hearing this quelled some of Steve’s fears, but he still kept his guard up. Curious, he asked, “What other rules do you have?”

  “It’s really simple,” Rick replied. “No stealing, no cheating and no lying, although that one is hard to enforce. Everyone is expected to pull their weight every day or they don’t eat, but the most important rule is, no drama. This isn’t an audition for the fucking Jerry Springer Show.”

  From where she was listening nearby, Heather laughed as she remembered the night when the virus hit Clearwater with full force. She had gone to the high school to evacuate some wounded and to get her CAR-15. When she went with one of the local cops to collect her trusted weapon, she saw that they had a bunch of people suspected of being infected quarantined in the school’s gym. She recalled that there was one guy crying and moaning about being able to feel the virus running through his veins. With a second laugh at how he reacted when one of the others in his group turned, she knew that drama queens were something they definitely didn’t need.

  “So what are the penalties for breaking the rules?” she asked.

  “Murder is punishable by death by hanging,” he replied. “For everything else, we exile you from the forts.”

  The group took this in as the truck slowed to pass through the second line of defenses. Steve saw that they were constructed the same as the first, but with one small addition. Signs warning that the area was mined were set up every fifty feet. Next to them were similar ones warning that the fence was electrified.

  Now we’re really screwed if this is a set up, he thought to himself. Expecting that any second they would be ambushed, this thought was abruptly cut off when they reached a clearing and he saw the wall of Fort Redoubt appear.

  Softly saying, “Holy shit, now I can see where all the power poles went,” he nudged Tick-Tock and nodded his head toward the defenses Rick Styles and his people had erected.

  Set into the ground and pointing outward at a forty-five degree angle, the power poles formed the main part of the wall. Each one of them had been sharpened into a point, but Steve couldn’t see the reasoning behind this since their tops were at least fifteen f
eet off the ground.

  Must be psychological, he guessed.

  The trucks broke to their right and parked side by side. In front of them, Steve could see people hurriedly hooking porcupines up to trailer hitches on a similarly parked line of six-wheeled Army vehicles. A sense of urgency prevailed among them, causing him to turn to their host and ask what was going on.

  Seeing he had already jumped over the tailgate of their truck and was a short distance away, Steve filled himself in on what was happening by the barked conversation Rick was having with another man.

  “What the fuck is going on, Lieutenant Wilkes?” Rick asked a huge man dressed in camouflage utilities.

  “That big gang of dead-asses out of Jasper that were heading west changed their minds and are heading north now,” he answered.

  “And you’re doing what?” Rick asked him venomously.

  “We were going to lead them off to the west again. You weren’t anywhere to be found, so I took it upon myself to give the orders,” Wilkes told him arrogantly.

  In a low, angry voice, Rick asked rapid fire, “And you couldn’t find a radio to call me? The chain of command just gets tossed out the window like a pot full of piss whenever we spot some Ds?”

  The two men locked eyes in a hard stare, but Wilkes dropped his after only a second. His shoulders sagged as he said in a soft voice, “I took it upon myself to order out the guard, sir. I saw it as a chance to even the score for Vanessa and the boys.”

  Rick’s shoulders slumped, too. Speaking sternly but quietly, he said, “I loved them, too. It may have been your sister and nephews, but remember, it was my wife and kids that died. Regardless of our personal feelings, we need to make and follow a plan, or we’re going to be nothing but rabble striking out blindly in all directions. We don’t have the people or the resources to be running off every time we see a herd of dead-asses coming our way, and you know how we do it, we plan our strike and then strike on our plan.”

  Chastised, Wilkes said, “I’ll order our people to stand down.”

  “Not so fast,” Rick told him. “You may have the right plan, even though you went about it in the wrong way. Tell me what’s going on.”

  Steve, Heather and Tick-Tock had gotten out of the truck and stood a few feet away, listening intently as Wilkes said, “The scouts that were following the herd out of Jasper called in and said that the dead-asses were changing direction.” Pulling out a map, he lay it on the ground and pointed to a yellow line as he said, “They cut north on Highway 59. If they keep going in that direction to where it intersects with Highway 63, and if they decide to come back east instead of going north or west, it will bring them real close to us.”

  Rick studied the map for a few seconds before saying, “That is a possibility, but not one that requires we go off half-cocked.”

  Straightening, Wilkes said, “Since this group has about ten thousand dead in it, I thought I’d set up some ambushes and whittle their numbers down a little while I try to draw them back to the west.”

  Moving closer, Steve asked, “Is that the big herd that was west of Jasper?”

  Wilkes narrowed his eyes at the intrusion and asked, “And who the hell are you?”

  “He’s a refugee,” Rick explained.

  “Is he some kind of tactical genius?” Wilkes asked.

  “Just a refugee from what I’ve been able to gather,” Rick told him, “but he did manage to lead his group here all the way from Clearwater, Florida, so he must have his shit together at least a little bit.”

  Wilkes gave a grudging nod to this as he checked Steve and his crew out. They looked wild and unkempt from being on the road, but he could see that their weapons were clean and ready to use. He also took in the hard set of their eyes and their defiant posture before saying, “We’ve got a couple other people here from Clearwater. I’ll introduce you to them later.”

  Steve nodded and said, “Thanks,” before pointing down to the map and saying, “The reason I asked about the size of the herd is because I was wondering if it was the same one we were running from. We estimated the one coming toward us to be at least twenty thousand. If there’s another big group of Zs out there roaming around, I’d like to know about it so we can avoid them when we leave.”

  “Leave?” Rick asked in a confused voice. “You’ve just found the only safe place in a thousand square miles, and now you want to go out into the dead lands again?”

  “We have to get to Fort Polk,” Steve told him.

  “But like I told you, they’re not taking in civilians,” Rick said.

  “I think they’ll accept us,” Steve told him.

  Skeptical, Wilkes asked, “And why are you so sure of that?”

  Steve hesitated as he considered his position. The feeling that they might be walking into a trap had left him, but he wasn’t sure how far he could trust these people. After weighing the pros and cons, and knowing it would come out as soon as he could get to Rick’s radio and call Fort Polk, he said, “We have someone in our group that’s immune to the HWNW virus.”

  This announcement was met by a skeptical silence. Steve didn’t want to add anything else to his simple statement since he could see that neither Rick nor Wilkes believed him. He knew that the harder he tried to convince them, the more likely they would be to doubt him.

  Finally, Rick said, “You know you don’t have to make things up to convince us to let you stay here. Everyone except bottom feeders is welcome.”

  “And lying is a punishable offense,” Wilkes added. “Telling the truth gets you in, but lying gets you banished.”

  Steve said simply, “I’m not lying.”

  “I challenge that,” Wilkes said.

  Turning his attention to Steve, Rick said, “You have formally been challenged on the charge of lying. This means that you must show proof that you are innocent.”

  “Or what?” Tick-Tock asked from where he stood next to Steve.

  Pointing to the gate of Fort Redoubt, he said, “Or you don’t get in.”

  Steve looked to where his group was standing nearby. He could see that they were exhausted from fear and the exertion of their flight from the insane asylum, and he knew they needed to rest in a safe place where they weren’t under constant threat of being eaten. On top of that, they needed Rick Styles’ radio to call Fort Polk. They might be able to reach them on the CB radio that they had brought along, but it also might be a day or two before they got into range. Considering the people that they had already lost, he made a decision. Calling out to Linda, he asked her to bring Cindy over. Igor came, too, and a small circle formed around the little girl.

  Feeling like a curiosity in a freak show, Cindy lowered her head in embarrassment as she rolled up the sleeve of her shirt. Looking down at the scars, she could see that they were fading. Linda had assured her that one day they would disappear completely, but for now you could still see the individual tooth marks. She had avoided looking at the scars because they brought back memories that were hard to bear. Especially the two gaps in the tissue caused by her little brother’s missing teeth.

  Rick let out a low whistle before saying, “I guess that proves it. Challenge is negated by the truth.”

  Nodding to where Wilkes stood with a scowl on his face, Tick-Tock asked, “Does that mean he gets exiled?”

  Rick laughed and said, “It doesn’t quite work that way. We have to try to be as fair as possible to maintain the integrity of our group.” Looking down to where Cindy was rolling her shirt back down her arm, he asked, “Where did you find her?”

  Steve relayed the story of how they had found her hiding in the building they had taken shelter in when the dead rose up and how they were trying to get her to a military base so she could be studied and a cure found for the HWNW virus.

  When he was finished, Rick said, “It sounds like you found yourself a noble cause in the middle of all this death and destruction. My people and I will help you in any way we can. First of all, I think getting something to eat is i
n order.”

  It was then that Steve became aware of an enticing aroma coming from inside the walls of Fort Redoubt. When they had first pulled up, he noticed that the area was slightly hazy and smelled of wood smoke, and now he realized that these must be cooking fires being stoked. His stomach rumbled at the scent of cooked meat as he thought back to when he’d had his last hot meal. Realizing that it had been right before they left the insane asylum, he was shocked that it had only been the day before yesterday. It felt like they had been running and hiding for weeks.

  “You said that you had an infirmary?” Tick-Tock asked, interrupting Steve’s thoughts of hot food and making him feel slightly guilty that he had completely forgotten about the wounded.

  Rick turned and called out to two of his people to get stretchers for Denise and another woman in the group that had been badly hurt in the crossfire the night before. When they had been carried off, with Tick-Tock and one of his people helping carry them, Rick mentioned food again.

  Accepting Rick’s offer of dinner, Steve and his people followed him toward the gate and into Fort Redoubt, glancing about as they took in the sights and sounds around them while Rick Styles kept up a running commentary about how they had set up the place.

  “When we first got here,” Rick told them, “there was less than one hundred of us. We scouted the area real good and realized that this was the perfect spot, with the exception of one problem. Everything we needed was too spread out. At first we wanted to set up to the water treatment plant, but the smell was so bad that it drove us off. Without power, it was pretty useless to us. We needed water, so we cleared out a few of the houses along the shore of the lake and settled in. We weren’t as organized back then, but we set up a pretty good defensive position by cutting down trees and using them as a barricade.”