The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set)

by Taylor Michaels

  "So, you two are the same rank, that's interesting," said Masako. "Do I outrank you, John?"

  "No Ma'am. I'm actually in the Air Force. The Captain is in the Navy. Same name, but a much higher rank. But, you do outrank me, as well."

  "Yeah, Masako. Remember that James Bond was a Commander. John outranks him and you."

  "All that's interesting," said John. "But the current problem is to tear down this blockade without attracting the attention of the mutants. I'm afraid they are either watching us or will come to check their blockade and catch us while we are tearing it down. George, grab your rifle and stand guard. We might have to fight our way out of here."

  "Can we take a look at them, sir?"

  John looked all around, slowly and carefully to make sure nobody was watching. "Sure, follow me." John led the Captain through the woods to where the circle of houses stood as the others began removing limbs from the blockade. Several of the mutants were outside their house chopping wood.

  The Captain checked with his binoculars and then said, "Ugly brutes. You tried talking to them?"

  "Not these, but others. They must have seen us pass through. I didn't think so at the time. Maybe another one saw us."

  Just then, one of the mutants grabbed a log ten inches across and ten feet long and threw it forty feet down the field.

  "Wow. I can understand why you wouldn't want an encounter with them. I heard they were strong. I'll handle it." He pulled out his radio. "Captain Hamilton here with Captain Thompson and Commander Hirakawa. We need an airstrike on an encampment just south of my position."

  "Ten four. Diverting two. ETA two minutes. Can you hold out."

  "Roger that."

  "For your information, sir, the invaders have been neutralized. Fleet is proceeding to our next assignment, Captain. Regret we will have to leave you behind. The Admiral said you would understand."

  "Roger that, also."

  The Captain turned to John and said, "We should put some distance between us and the mutants, sir."

  "Is the railway far enough away?"

  "Yes, sir. It will do fine."

  They arrived back at the railroad as George, Masako and Iris had cleared all the small branches from the tracks. "George, we are going to have an airstrike on the mutants. Why don't you cover us, just in case. The Captain and I will work on the rest of the logs.

  "They look heavy, sir."

  John picked up one end of a log and stared at the Captain as he struggled with the other. John put his end of the log down, walked to the center of the log, picked it up and carried it into the woods. As he walked back, the Captain was standing still, his gun in his hand, pointed at John. George had taken a position behind the Dark Darts with his rifle on the Captain.

  "Captain. What are you doing?"

  "You are one of them, sir. You are a mutant."

  "The virus affected some of us by increasing our strength, but I haven't noticed any other changes. Have you?"

  At that time, a jet flew overhead, made a tight turn and dropped a bomb on the mutant houses. A second jet flew by and dropped another bomb. The explosions shook the ground as dirt, shingles, siding and pieces of lumber rained down. The Captain pulled out his radio.

  "What are you doing, Captain?"

  "What I have to sir. Fleet, this is Captain Hamilton. I want you to target my …"

  Masako fired before the sentence could be completed. The Captain fell and the radio hit the ground a few feet away. John raced over and picked up the radio. "This is Captain Thompson. Belay that last order. Say again. Belay that last order. No further services are required. Return to base. Thanks for the air strike. We appreciate it."

  George looked at John and shook his head. "This ain't turnin' out the way I expected, John. Not at all. I was thinkin' of a couple pizzas, maybe half a dozen and a six pack. Air dropped in. Little parachute. Maybe a couple six packs. An a few bottles of bourbon. And maybe a few of those frozen steaks."

  "No, George, you're right. I had higher hopes, myself. Maybe even weekly deliveries of those pizzas. And beer. And bourbon. And steak with little red potatoes. Maybe even a still. It's been a rollercoaster of a day. One crazy vacation. The rest of the world has gone crazy. Why should vacations be any different? I'll take care of the rest of the logs if you'll start on the grave. Then, we can be on our way," John said, wiping a tear from his eye as Masako hugged him.

  "You're still a hero," she whispered in his ear.

  "What about the radio?" George said.

  John looked at it, smiled and shook his head. "Keep it. Turn it on from time to time. We might hear something or learn something. Put it into your collection of memorabilia. I'm looking forward to a stiff drink. Maybe a few. I feel worse now than when we left. Not a good vacation."

  Chapter 59 - Homecoming Fireworks

  Another day of pumping their recumbent, enclosed bicycles brought the four home to the carport factory where they started. John and George separated the Dart vehicles, unloaded their belongings and hefted the Darts from the rails up into the factory while Iris and Masako put everything into George's latest electric car, the White Warrior Two, parked near the tracks.

  "Looks like it's going to rain, George."

  "Yeah. Cool wind. Grey sky. Wind is building. I'm glad we got home when we did. Wouldn't want to be pedaling in that weather. We never did check for leaks. Plus, we removed that back section for the Captain. I think he bent it out of shape. The back lid hasn't fit tightly since then. Sorry about all that. A strange trip, right John?"

  "Strange is a conservative way of putting it. I thought I was going to die at least twice. Wasn't the first time that's happened. I wish it were the last. I've had at least ten near-death episodes in my life. Some safety experts say that you only have ten at one level before you move to the next level. My next level is death."

  "Sounds like a difficult life. Like the old Arab saying, 'May you have an interesting life.' Yours has been interesting and then some. You should write a book."

  "Maybe I will, if I ever find enough paper, George."

  "For me, it's good to be back. At least the White Warrior is here. No more pedalin'. I guess we hop in and go home. A bit anticlimactic, isn't it?"

  "Coming home is always anticlimactic. I learned that at an early age. Lots of action followed by coming home and then nothing. But, that's why people come home. Too much action. They are ready for a rest. I'm ready for a rest. Most people are home for a day and they're ready for another vacation. I read once that people should plan a second vacation, a short one, a week after their long vacation to avoid the depression of returning."

  "I'll check out the car. You come when you feel like it. Might want to hurry. Looks like a bad rain comin'," George said, walking toward the door.

  They all hopped into White Warrior Number Two and drove off toward the lodge.

  As they neared the lodge, John pressed the transmit button on his radio and said, "Hey guys we're back. Open the door." A minute passed and John received no reply. He repeated the message and signaled to George to stop the vehicle. Still no response. After several minutes, a familiar voice was heard.

  "May day. May day. Abort. Abort. The lodge was taken over by pirates. Do not go there. If you have range meet us where we found the still."

  John took a quick look at the power gauge and replied. "Negative. Too far. How about Barry Ferris' warehouse?"

  "Ten-four," returned Charles' voice.

  "I thought you said coming home was anticlimactic," said Masako. "Sounds like we have a new set of problems." Her voice was strained.

  "The story of my life," said John. "I really just wanted to settle down and enjoy myself. Take it easy. Pizza and beer. Nothing complicated. Except that we don't really have pizza or beer."

  "Marceau's latest attempt wasn't too bad," said Iris. "That cow is producing milk and the cheese was weird, but it was cheese. Wasn’t too bad. And the wine wasn't bad either."

  "Come on John," said Masako. "You know what
you like. Action. You wouldn't know how to sit back and enjoy yourself. Ten minutes of sitting and you're ready to do something."

  "Whatever."

  They arrived at the warehouse where Barry Farris and his gang had lived. Charles was standing in front with the Dark Demon and White Warrior Number One.

  "At least, we haven't given away all our secrets," said John, seeing the other two electric vehicles. As he got out of the car, Charles walked over. "What happened?"

  "Two nights ago, Abby, Fred and I were returning to the lodge from a routine foraging mission."

  "You went foraging and left Pierre the only shooter in the lodge?"

  "In hindsight it sounds bad, but maybe not."

  "Dammit, Charles. We've lost our home. Our supplies. Our food. Maybe our lives. What were you thinking?"

  "We just wanted to be productive. Move things forward. We hadn't seen any serious resistance for a long time."

  "Whatever. Tell us what happened."

  The irritation in John's voice was obvious.

  "Must have been twenty of them. Running all around. I saw them in the view screen as we came around the corner. I reversed and just got away before they saw us."

  "Twenty guys are living at the lodge?"

  "No, not now, only a few. A few more come and go several times a day."

  "Where is everybody else?"

  "I don't know. I left Pierre in his cabin. He hasn't answered the radio. I fear the worst."

  "Why not just pick off those you see?"

  "I tried that. Ten minutes after I hit one, twenty guys descended on the place and I just barely escaped." He shook his head.

  "Well, that tells us something. They must have a home base within ten minutes. How were they traveling?"

  "A bus and some cycles."

  "So, their home base is within five miles. Still a large space. My White Warrior is nearly on empty."

  "Mine too. Barry Ferris had a few gallons of alcohol we didn't find. I've been using that in one of their cycles. The one Pierre was riding and ran out of fuel."

  "How have you been eating?"

  "The Dark Demon carries a few days of MREs. We're about out. I was going back tomorrow to raid our storage in the woods behind the lodge. You have any food?"

  "Yeah. We expected to be gone longer. A few days' rations are left for the four of us. What about everybody else?"

  "While I was doing surveillance, I saw Mary working in the garden and Marceau walking to one of the storage cabins."

  "Walking, outside?"

  "Yes."

  "So they don't know about the tunnels. The women were smart. If we can get to one of the cabins, we can go through the tunnel into the lodge. And if you're right about the numbers, we can take over the lodge."

  "You have guns?"

  "We don't leave home without them. One rifle. Handguns. We can use the same strategy we used with Barry Farris and his group, pick them off one at a time."

  Masako joined in. "We had mobility, that time. Not much now."

  "We can't storm the lodge. We don't have enough people. We could sneak in and take over. Then the others would show up in force and they would have the advantage of knowing our layout."

  "Didn't you say that the defenders in a fixed facility have a three to one advantage?" said Masako.

  "Yeah."

  "So, we have seven people. They would have to have twenty-one to take us, right John"

  "Masako, this isn't Algebra class. It's warfare. The numbers are so close that we'd lose half our people even if we won the war. And, you have to allow for the quality of the people."

  Masako crossed her arms. "You mean women don't fight well."

  John was quiet for a moment and then said, "No, you just fight differently. Close in. It's more personal for you. Men are impersonal about it. Push a button and send a missile ten miles."

  "So, what do you say, John? What's the strategy?" said Charles.

  "I don't know. Nothing pops out at me. Right now, I don't see that we have any advantage. No transportation. No numbers. No special weapons. I don't like going into a fight without a big advantage. I think that means we do more surveillance. Watch them for a few days."

  "Did you ever watch Cho with her chemistry set, John?" said George.

  "Yeah, she was a magician. Taught me a few things. Why?"

  "When I was putting together the First Aid kit for the Dark Demon, I asked her what kinds of things she would recommend." George raised his eyebrows toward the ceiling, remembering Cho's advice. "She gave me a syringe and a couple vials. They are in the car. If we grabbed one of their guys, could you make him talk? You used to say you enjoyed getting information from people, using drugs. That you could tell when they had told you everything. Now's the time for that skill to be used again. To save our lives. Find out some inside info."

  "George, you are a genius. Again."

  John looked at Charles. "Charles, you've watched them. Can you think of any way we could grab one? Use him to provide some intel."

  "Yes, John. At night, sometimes, they walk around outside. Usually smoking. We could grab him. Take him into the woods. Let you do some of your magic on him."

  "Sounds like a plan."

  That night, John, Charles and Fred took two motorcycles fueled with the last of their high proof ethanol and traveled to an old logging road near the lodge. They made their way from the forest to the back gate where Fred disabled the alarm. John and Fred used the night vision goggles John had taken on the Dart trip to avoid detection. After a few hours of tense waiting, one man appeared from the back door. He walked around to the side of the building, lit a cigarette and propped himself against the house. John pounced on the man with more than his usual energy. Charles had to stop him from breaking the man's neck. John held the man while Charles gagged him and Fred bound his hands and feet.

  "John, you said we didn't have an advantage, but you forgot about the strength we gained from the virus," Fred whispered. "Hand to hand is our advantage."

  "Three on one helps too," said John, picking the man up with one hand and throwing him over his shoulder. Once in the woods, they stopped at a clearing where they had left the drugs and tied the man to a tree.

  John removed the man's gag and asked, "What's your name, friend."

  "I'm not your friend. My name's none of your business. You let me go or my real friends will toast your testicles."

  "Maybe so, friend. What group do you belong to?"

  "I'm not telling you anything. You can do what you want to."

  Charles, Fred and John threw glances at each other. "I will," John said. "You're tied to a tree. You can't stop me from doing anything. And you will tell me everything I want to know. And more. That's one of the problems with this drug. You'll just chatter on and on. You'll tell me everything I want to know and more. Sometimes it takes hours. Sometimes, I have to keep giving injections. Some people don't react to lots of injections of different drugs," John said, holding up a small box and removing three small vials and a syringe.

  The man's eyes followed John's hands as he filled the syringe, his eyes growing larger and larger as he watched.

  "Show me a vein," John said, looking at Charles.

  Charles untied one of the man's arms and held it stiffly with one hand while ripping off the man's sleeve with the other.

  "Aren't you going to put alcohol on my arm or something?"

  John laughed. "No, friend. This isn't a hospital. You don't have insurance to cover you for what I'm going to do. And to be honest, I don't care what happens to you. I don't care about whatever disease you pick up. The world has changed, friend. I am in the military. But, we now have two groups in the military. Those of us here on land and those on ships out in the ocean. All the doctors and judges and police are out in the ocean. Bad for you, good for me. You'll never see one of those out in the ocean because they think you're contaminated with the virus and they don't want to be. I'll never see another one either because they think I'm contaminated wi
th the virus, too."

  "Is this going to kill me?"

  Charles and Fred made idle banter about how that was the idea if he didn't talk.

  John shushed them. "Not suppose to, but we had a few cases. Not death, but personality changes, you might say. But only after a long session."

  The man wriggled and fought to free himself. "What kind of changes?"

  "People went crazy," Charles said, taking on his part in their little play. "Saw strange things. Bugs. Spiders. If you see anything strange, just remember, it's only in your mind. Seriously. Especially giant spiders. Ten feet high. No such thing. Tell yourself that anytime you see one. The pain you feel when the spider takes a bite out of your arm will be real, but the spider won't be. The spiders can eat off your arm a hundred times and it will still be there."

  "Yeah, that was sad," John said, winking at Charles. "But funny. Hilarious, actually. Still sad, though."

  "How long will it take?" Charles asked.

  "He's tough. It will probably take all night. You can go home after the third injection. Come back in the morning. I should have it all by then."

  Charles looked at Fred and shrugged

  "Tell me, friend. How are you feeling? The drug will make you sleepy and talkative. At first. Later, you'll be more and more sleepy. Then, if I have the dose right, you'll wake up and feel fine. If I'm a little sloppy, you'll have side effects. Paranoia. You'll see things, like my friend said." John laughed. "Really strange things. Giant bugs. Worms all over you. Your subconscious will take over. If you've ever had a bad dream, this will be worse. It will last for hours."

  "Days, you mean," said Fred, also playing along. "You keep forgetting about how that last guy died. The Brass told you not to do this any more after that."

  John answered with a smile. "The Brass are on a ship thousands of miles away. They don't need to know anything about this. You understand?" John said in a gruff voice.

  "Yes, Sir."

  The man was growing more talkative with only threats. John knew he would spill all, once he was injected.