“Oh, okay. Thanks.”
He dismissed me with a nod and went back to looking bored. I climbed down the hatch to the tunnels and ran into two more guards at the main intersection. One of them yawned and pointed me to the tunnel leading to the admin building. I thanked them, and headed that way.
I emerged into the same basement as the first time I went there, and had to use my lantern to find the stairwell in the darkness. At the rear exit to the building, another set of guards challenged me and took my lantern before letting me outside. As soon as I stepped through the door, the acrid scent of marijuana smoke made me curl my nose. I looked around for the source, and spotted a familiar figure sitting on a picnic table nearby. I moved closer.
“That you, Paul?”
He turned around. “Yeah. Morrison?”
“Guilty as charged. Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all, man. Have a seat.”
He scooted over and let me take up one half of the table. We sat on top of it, resting our feet on the bench beneath.
“So how’d you like your first day with the Legion?”
I shrugged. “It started out uneventful and boring, but then I got a shower and a blowjob. Can’t remember the last time I had both of those in the same day.”
Paul laughed, and I wanted to stab him in the throat for thinking it was funny. “Sounds like you had a good day.” He took a plastic baggie out of his shirt pocket and began filling a glass pipe with a swirling purple design embedded in it. “You smoke?”
“Depends. Is that weed?”
“Yep. Grow it myself. One of the benefits of being on Lucian’s staff.”
In the silver light of the half-moon, I could see that his eyes were bloodshot and a little swollen. The odor of marijuana coming from him was enough to make me cough.
“What’s the story with that?” I asked. “I mean, how’d you end up working for Lucian?”
He picked up a butane lighter, lit the pipe, and inhaled deeply. He held his breath, and then blew out a plume of thick gray smoke. “Can’t talk about that. He swore me to secrecy. You don’t break promises to a guy like Lucian.”
Okay, let’s try a different approach. “That’s cool, I understand. But still, that’s got to be a sweet job, man.”
I could only see him in profile, but the half that was visible smiled. “Yeah, it is.” He held out the pipe. “Want a hit?”
I hesitated for a few seconds. I had tried the stuff a few times, but never really cared for it. All it did was make me hungry. But it was an opportunity to gather information and further cement my cover, so I took the pipe.
“Been a long time, man. I’m probably gonna cough like a motherfucker.”
“It’s cool. Just take little tokes. Here you go.” He handed me the butane lighter.
“They let you have this outside at night?” I asked, holding up the lighter.
“The guards know better than to give me shit about it.”
I nodded and lit the pipe, covering the vent hole on the side with my thumb. The dry, smelly buds turn orange, and after a second or two, I took my thumb off the vent and breathed in.
“You look like you’ve done that before,” Paul said.
I nodded, held the smoke in for a few seconds, and then blew it out. I didn’t choke, but I did have to cough a few times before I could breathe again. “Yeah, once or twice.”
Paul chuckled. “Go on and take another hit, man. I’m pretty baked.”
I did, and then handed the pipe back to him. “Gotta take a break. It’s been a while, man. Not sure how bad it’s gonna hit me. I don’t want to get lost in the fucking tunnels on the way back.”
Something about that must have tickled Paul, because he spent a good five minutes giggling uncontrollably. I waited while he got himself together, and felt the THC beginning to kick in. His weed was some strong stuff.
“Oh, man. I needed that. Thanks.”
“So how long you been with the Legion?” I asked conversationally.
“About a year now, if you count the time I spent in the mines. A patrol caught me as I was heading north from Hollow Rock. Traded a box of ammo for some food there, and then set off for Canada. I’d heard there were a few communities up near the border that were welcoming survivors.”
“Doesn’t sound like much of a hope to go on,” I said.
He shook his head. “It wasn’t, but at the time, I had nothing else going. I figured I’d get there, or die trying. Then the Legion came along.”
He was silent for a while after that, gazing blankly into the darkness. Just as I was beginning to worry he wasn’t going to say anything else, he spoke up again.
“At first I fucking hated it, you know. You’ve been there, too, you know what I’m talking about. They beat the shit out of me. Starved me. Wouldn’t give me any water. For a while there, I just wanted to die. Get it over with, you know? I even begged the guards to kill me, but they wouldn’t do it. They told me I’d get stronger. And you know what? They were right.”
He went quiet again, his bloodshot eyes hardening. I didn’t really care why this guy had sided with people who’d brutalized him, but there was the odd chance that he might let something useful slip. So I decided to encourage him.
“I think I know what you mean, man. That first week was rough, being in isolation. But at the same time … I don’t know. I kind of feel like it taught me something.”
“That’s because it did.” He turned to face me, his expression showing a fierceness that hadn’t been there before. “You learned the same thing I did; you’re stronger than you think. Tougher than you think. You can take a hell of a lot more abuse than you thought you could. You can survive on just a little bit of food and water. You can sleep when you’re freezing cold. You can work when you’re so exhausted you can barely move. Your body will do whatever your mind tells it to.”
He tapped a finger on his forehead, and went back to staring into the blackness of the forest. “When I was in that hole, something changed inside me. The old Paul was weak and stupid. He was still holding on to all the bullshit he’d believed back before the Outbreak. All the lies politicians used to feed people to keep them under control. All the years of indoctrination that had turned me into a sheep, the same as everybody else. I wasn’t the man I was meant to be. I’d never been shown what I was really capable of, never had a chance to learn it for myself. Lucian changed all that.”
He paused long enough to take a hit from his bowl, then went on. “At first I was just scared. When they took me down to the mines, I literally pissed myself. The work was terrible. My body wasn’t used to it, I hurt constantly, and I cried until I ran out of water to cry with. The guards mocked me and kicked me around like a dog. God, I had hated them then. Hated them with a passion. But a few weeks went by and, as much as I didn’t want to be, I was still alive. I got used to not eating. Not having enough water. My body adjusted to the workload, and it got easier. I think that was when I first started to really get it, you know? When I first started to understand.”
I looked down between my knees and feigned contemplation. “I think I know what you mean.”
His head turned, and he put an arm around my shoulders, giving my deltoid a quick squeeze. “Of course you do. You just went through the same thing. It’s a fucking harsh crucible, man. But can you honestly say you’re not stronger for having gone through it?”
I stayed quiet for a few seconds, nodding slowly and pretending to think about it. “You know, you’re right. I hadn’t really thought about it that way, but you’re right. I think I am stronger now.”
He withdrew his arm. “Goddamn right you are. Want another hit?”
I held up a hand and waved the offer away. “No, not right now. Those first two are hitting me hard. That’s some good shit, man.”
He laughed. “Yeah, it is.”
I waited while he took another drag, and then he continued, “I went to the fights every Sunday, just like everybody else. There were some big guy
s down there with me, so I figured it would be best to wait until they got out before stepping up. After about a month, the toughest guys were gone, and I figured I could take the rest. I almost won it, but I fucked my hand up on the last guy and wound up getting choked out. The guy I lost to is actually on your team. Mike, that rat-looking fucker.” He shook his head ruefully. “That was fucking embarrassing. I had to give my hand a couple of weeks to heal, and then I tried again. That time, I won.”
A smile crossed his face at the memory. “I can’t tell you what that was like, man. I stood up over my beaten opponent and roared like an animal. Everyone was screaming and cheering. It was fucking surreal. Lucian came out to congratulate me, and I gave him a hug. Can you imagine that? He didn’t get weird about it, though. He just looked me in the eye, and he said, ‘Today, you’re a man.’ And that was when it clicked, you know? When it all made sense. The old world was soft, and it raised soft people, and it fed them lies to keep them under control. Reality is way fucking harsher than that. Reality doesn’t lie, and neither does Lucian. All the shit he put me through, all the beatings, and the work, and the starvation, it was like putting raw metal in a fire. You have to melt it to make something out of it, and in the process, you burn away the impurities. All the things that make it weak. And when you add the right ingredients, and shape it, what you get is something stronger. Sharper. That’s what Lucian did for me. He dragged me kicking and screaming into the fire, he burned away all the lies that made me weak, and he showed me what it means to be strong. I’d have never done it on my own, never would have put myself through that. I’m glad Lucian did it for me. Not a day goes by that I don’t look at that great man, and think how lucky I am. I’d say I’m grateful, but grateful ain’t the word, man. Grateful doesn’t cut it. Not by a long shot.”
I thought about pointing out to Paul that his logic was as full of holes as the proverbial Swiss cheese. But looking him in the eye, I could see that he was a fanatic. A convert. A zealot. There is no arguing with people like that, no reasoning with them. They’re going to believe whatever they want to believe, and nothing you say is going to make a damned bit of difference. I stared at Paul for a long moment, and wondered at the things people become.
“That’s fucking hardcore, man,” I said, breaking a smile. Paul chuckled, and the hard lines of his face relaxed.
“Yeah, I get carried away talking about that shit. It just means a lot to me, you know?”
“I know exactly what you mean, Paul. Believe me.” I leaned back on my elbows and looked at the sky. Now that the world had gone dark, the stars stood out bright and clear, crystalline against the cloudless night sky.
“Just wait until you start training and go on your first raid. That’s when shit’s gonna get real.” He stood up and stretched before tapping the ashes out of his bowl. “I got the munchies like a bastard. I’ll catch you later, Morrison. I’m gonna go find some grub.”
“All right, man. See you around.”
He ambled off, a little unsteady. When the door had shut behind him, I let out a sigh and released the end of the table. I had been gripping it hard, resisting the urge to do something painful and damaging to Paul. When I looked at my hands, they wood had bitten into them and they were bleeding a little. I picked out the splinters and tossed them to the ground, and then I lay back on the table and stared up at the sky.
You’re a goddamn evil genius, Lucian. To take a man and turn him into a monster like that. You’re going to pay for what you’ve done, you heartless fuck. You’re going to get it back in spades.
I thought about the transponder implanted under my skin. I thought about its range, and the battery that I charged every time I moved. I thought about the satellites swirling up there in space, exchanging RF signals with the little blue sphere below. I thought about Steve, and his little shack with all the radio equipment. He would have my signal by now. Or at the very least, they had it over in the Springs and would be sending an encrypted message to Hollow Rock in short order. I wondered who Steve would send. Great Hawk for sure. Maybe Grabovsky? Gabe? Whoever it was, the Legion was in for a world of hurt.
I thought about all this, lying there in the cold, and I smiled.
Chapter 22
The Journal of Gabriel Garrett:
Beacon of Hope
“We’ve picked up his signal again,” Steve said without preamble as I stepped into his office. He stood up and flipped the map on his desk around so that I could see it, pointing to a spot fifteen miles northwest of Hollow Rock.
“It showed up again here, the same place as where we lost it. He’s on the move, headed northwest.”
I stepped forward and glanced down at the map. “You sure?”
He nodded. “Positive. Central Command still has plenty of GPS satellites up and running. They can pinpoint his transponder to within five yards, and the signal is one of a kind, unique to his device. It’s him.”
“How do we know he’s still alive? Maybe the Legion is moving his corpse. Or maybe they got overrun by the walkers, and he’s wandering away.”
“No, if that were the case we’d know it. The transponder is programmed to tell us if his vitals have flatlined. He’s definitely alive.”
I felt a tension that had been building in me for the last six weeks begin to loosen. “That’s good news. What do we do now?”
Steve eased back into his chair and motioned for me to have a seat. The office we occupied at the VFW hall was the same one that General Jacobs had commandeered a few weeks earlier. The old soldier had flown back to Colorado Springs, and was lobbying for us with Central Command for troops and resources. After Eric left, we had hoped to find information he could use to argue our case. A month and a half had gone by, and so far, things had not been going well.
“Now we try to make contact with him,” Steve said. “I wish I knew why it took so long for him to resurface. Maybe the Legion changed their recruiting tactics, or something went wrong that kept Eric tied up in the tunnels.”
I leaned back in my seat and steepled my hands under my chin. “That’s good news for Grayson Morrow. I’m sure he’s just as anxious to get word from Eric as we are. Probably more so, seeing as his life depends on it.”
Steve’s expression darkened. “He’s not out of the woods yet. At least not until we contact Eric and find out if his story holds water.”
“Let’s hope it does, for all our sakes.”
Steve nodded again and went silent for a few seconds. He rubbed a hand over his chin, and I got the feeling he was working his way up to what he wanted to say next, choosing his words carefully.
“I had planned to send Grabovsky with Great Hawk for next phase of the operation, but after careful consideration, I think you might be a better candidate for the job, Gabe.”
I waited a few seconds, staring him down. “Why the sudden change of heart, Captain? I thought you wanted me to keep my distance from this op. What was it you said, that I was too ‘emotionally invested’?”
He accepted the jibe with a shrug. “I’ve had time to think about it. You know Eric better than anyone else. You know how he thinks, and you can predict what he might do. Beyond that, you’re every bit as good an operator as Grabovsky, if not better. And Great Hawk actually wants to work with you.”
He leaned forward, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial hush. “You should feel special. That guy never works with anyone unless he’s ordered to. And even then he has a tendency to take off on his own, the slippery bastard.”
“On his own? Do the SEALs not work in teams anymore?” I asked.
“They do. At least most of the time. Great Hawk went from Team Three, where he excelled, to Team Six, where he excelled even more. After the Outbreak, the president tasked General Jacobs with selecting the best operators to assist with the bloodier aspects of the reclamation effort. Guess whose name was at the top of the list?”
I absorbed that, letting out a low whistle. “Jesus. Is he really that good?”
“Yes. He’s that good. Honestly, the guy scares me.”
Steve leaned back and rolled a short distance from his desk, crossing one boot over his knee. “Of course, you’re free to refuse the assignment. I have no authority to give you orders, not that it would do me any good if I did. But I would urge you to consider the danger to our mutual friend, and how you would feel if one of my guys bungled the op.”
“Our mutual friend? Is that what you think Eric is? Your friend?”
Some of the animated energy left the Green Beret, and he went still as he shot me a flat glare. “I may not be as close to him as you, but he and I have been through some shit together. He’s a good man, and I’d like to see him come home safe. Same as I would any other soldier.”
“You realize Eric isn’t one of your soldiers, right?”
“He may not wear the uniform, but he does the same job. I wish I had ten of him. We would have destroyed the Legion months ago.”
I couldn’t find fault with that sentiment, so I stayed silent for a little while, thinking. Steve’s logic was dead on. I was the best person for the job, hands down. No doubt about that. But Great Hawk was a wild card. I didn’t know him, didn’t trust him, and I had never worked with him before, which meant that he was unpredictable. None of that filled me with confidence that he could help me rescue Eric, regardless of what Steve had to say about him.
“Why not just send me? I’ve worked alone plenty of times. Keep the Apache in reserve, just in case. If anything happens to me, send him in with Grabovsky.”
Steve shook his head. “If you don’t come back, I’m not sending anyone else in because that would mean the entire mission has gone tits-up, and the Legion figured us out.” He cut his hand in a negating gesture. “I need both of you for this. You two are the best I have, and your best chance at success is to work together. I’m sorry, Gabe, but this is a non-negotiable, take-it-or-leave-it offer.”
Surviving the Dead 03: Warrior Within Page 29