Catalyst (Book 3): Ghost Country

by Franks, JK

  Near Memphis, Tennessee

  The general watched ahead as the column of armored vehicles began to slow. They were getting close; the terrain and trees were interfering with the ability to maneuver the horde of infected. He pulled the wet stump of the cigar from the corner of his mouth. “Deploy along the roads, keep moving them ‘sumbitches’ north into that valley.”

  “Sir, recon teams are not reporting in,” the aide said.

  “That’s fine, captain, we know they are in there.” He climbed down from the side of the APC and peered through the Steiner binoculars. “Son, you know how they hunt rabbits in Spain?”

  A look of utter confusion passed over the man’s face. “Sir?”

  “Rabbits, damnit,” the general said, once again chewing on the cigar, still scanning ahead. “Damndest thing, saw it when I was in Andalucía. The rabbits burrow down deep, see? Anyway, the hunters find the burrow, then use ferrets. They keep the little buggers caged up and just release one on each of the rabbit holes. The ferrets are mean lil’ bastards when it comes to rabbit, so they dig down after them, and the rabbit will go bat-shit crazy getting away, and it’ll pop out of an escape tunnel somewhere else. You just have to be ready to shoot ‘em when they make a run.” He lowered the binoculars. “These guys, these infected, son…they are our ferrets.”

  The mechanized division moved forward again but slower. They also passed wreckage from the battle with the Messengers. The rusting hulks of shot up vehicles and roadway ratcheted up the tension. They had limited air cover and had to wait to call it in due to fuel shortages. Major General Daly was impressed with the determination, if not the size, of his force. It had grown every day as more and more squads and battalions joined in, but still paled in the face of what was needed. The few infantry divisions were to the rear. Artillery was just behind the armored divisions. They were thirty kilometers from the spot marked on his maps. None of them had ever faced an enemy like this, nor thought they would fight a battle here in the hills of Tennessee. This was it, though, he knew it. His men knew it. If they lose here, the country was lost.

  Several hours later, the perimeter to the south of the Thunder Ridge facility was in place. “Sir, we have incoming.”

  General Daly nodded, “That took longer than I expected. Have artillery brigades get ready. How many targets do we have, Captain?”

  The captain looked like he would rather do anything than answer that question. “Hu..hundreds, sir.”

  “Hundreds? No way this place had that many aircraft.”

  “No, General, UAVs, all appear to be unmanned drones. Three different types identified so far. Primary ones are identified as modified Pegasus X-47A.”

  The general's blood ran cold; the Pegasus class of unmanned air combat craft were essentially just smaller versions of regular fighters with massive armaments, reconnaissance and maneuverability. “Shit….those bastards are going to fuck up my rabbit hunt. All stations open fire on preassigned targets.” He wanted artillery going down range before any of his assets were targeted. “Captain, call in our birds and have AA buy us some time. Keep those damn drones off of us. Have all techs crank up the audio to the max. Let’s drive these fucking zombies right down their throats.”

  Rollins lowered the handset and looked at the remaining members of the team. “Guys, we have to get the fuck out of here. The whole fucking Army is coming straight for us.” They had heard occasional weapons fire and artillery for the past couple of days, but it was getting closer and becoming sustained. Each of the men knew they were in the no-man’s zone between the enemy and front line.

  “Friendly fire hurts just as much as enemy,” Krychek stated flatly. “Our mission was to plant that targeting beacon and enter the facility only if needed, otherwise we sit back to help Sky, Scott and the Ghost get somewhere safe once done. We can’t do any of that if we are dead.”

  Solo broke into the circle of men. None of them knew any of the commands the dog responded to but watched as he lowered his head menacingly. They had seen him do that countless times already. It seemed to be a reaction to the infected being close. All four of the men swung guns up and out.

  “Rollins, you still pumping out that audio signal?” So far, Tahir’s defensive sound had kept the infected well away from the group, but it was still as unnerving as hell hearing, smelling and watching the angry, snarling creatures as they passed.

  “Yes, although I will need to change out the battery in the next two hours or so.” The sound generator was a modified handheld radio. “You guys notice how many more there are now?” He wasn’t sure even the sound would keep them safe if the numbers kept growing.

  “Incoming!” Nez yelled as he dove for cover. The whistle of an incoming artillery shell could be heard as it went overhead detonating several hundred yards away. More shells hit nearby. The earthy smell of fresh forest dirt mixed with smoke and burning flesh. The forest erupted into hundreds of explosions. Trees splintered into fragments under the unrelenting barrage. The four men were peppered by splinters and debris. They took shelter behind whatever cover they could quickly find. The infected around them seemed unconcerned. Even in their death-like state, they seemed oblivious to the destruction going on around them.

  Rollins was yelling. The deafening explosions caused them to shout afterward to even be heard. They couldn’t go farther north without triggering the perimeter defenses, to the south the infected and the shelling. “This is for shit, guys! We’re dead if we stay here.”

  Nez and Owens nodded. Krychek had blood running from both ears and could no longer hear anything. The artillary shelling briefly subsided, and they watched as a large group of wretched-looking infected came stumbling past. Many were missing limbs, some had pieces of trees lodged in their bodies. Rollins checked to make sure the sound generator was still working, then adjusted the intensity down. “We follow them in!” he said loudly.

  “What?” Owens asked. The look of disbelief mirrored on Nez’s normally impassive face.

  “We can get closer to them now, but we need to follow behind and let them trigger all the defenses.”

  “That’s a shit plan, sailor.”

  “You have a better one?”

  No one did. They fell in fifty feet behind the largest group. Solo took point, but all of them could feel the danger coming from every direction. “Fucking danger close, dude,” Owens said.

  Chapter Ninety-Seven

  Harris Springs, Mississippi

  Tahir pulled the headphones off. His coarse, black hair sweaty despite the relative coolness of the comms room. He pulled up the laptop feed, the fake alarm at the protectorate camp had gone off without a hitch. As far as he could tell, his intrusion hadn’t been detected. Bobby reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. Concern was etched on both their faces. “They’ll make it.”

  Tahir nodded unconvinced. “That area is too hot, Bobby. It’s like the center of the storm. I don’t know what else I can do to help them.”

  Bobby felt equally helpless. He’d been monitoring military radio traffic and knew they were within range of the facility. “I know my little brother, he isn’t going to stop until he finds her. And Skybox…. shit. Face it—he is the man.”

  Something was still bothering Tahir. He nodded in agreement with the other man’s statement, but his mind was already running down hundreds of other paths. He’d missed something, but what? Half thoughts and suggestions of ideas surfaced and were eliminated at lightning speed. He absently grabbed a notepad and began making notes, drawing doodles. This continued for several minutes while Bobby continued to talk, but the words no longer registered. Tahir allowed himself to descend into a place of thoughts. He’d presented a question for his mind to analyze, and now it would focus only on that.

  Bobby watched as the young man’s eyes went glassy, staring off into the distance. Occasionally, the pencil in his hand would make a mark or write something, but mostly he just sat. He’d seen him do this several times over the previous few months
. The first time, he thought he was having a seizure, now he understood it was just part of Tahir’s mental processing. He stopped talking and went back to monitoring the radio.

  Scott’s decision to invite the surviving Patriots had taken some time to take root, but they were beginning to come in steadily now. The Porters from Georgia had been the first, but they were just the start. Now, the trickle of people was becoming a stream. All brought supplies, some brought livestock, and all brought weapons. In inviting anyone to come, he’d had to give out the location of the ship. This had been a hard thing for them to do. So far, they’d only had a few incidents, but in time, he knew the government, NSF or some other group of rejects would learn of them and try to come take the AG for their own. Commander Garret had assured them they would prevent as much of that as possible, but the ship had been on high-alert for days now.

  Increasingly, encounters with infected were being reported as well. Everyone on board the AG had received the treatment, and it was standard for anyone wanting to join them. How much protection did it offer, though? What happened if the disease mutated again? So much was unknown, but it was clear to Bobby that time was running out for them to leave. Provisions had been stored, fuel topped off, and everyone in the community was on a four-hour notice. If the bugout signal was given, they had only that much time to get aboard with whatever they were taking with them.

  Tahir was still in his zone when DeVonte entered for his shift on the radio. “How long this time?”

  Bobby checked his watch, “Little over two hours.”

  “Damn!” the boy said smiling. “Any idea what he’s working on?”

  “Not a clue. I simply asked him to open the pod bay doors.”

  “Huh?” DeVonte said, then getting the reference. “Oh, like Hal9000, he’s not a computer man.”

  “No,” Bobby agreed. “He’s way better.”

  It was nearly an hour later when Tahir’s eyes fluttered open and began to focus once again. He looked down at the pad in his hands and frowned. “No…no, no. Oh, sheeet, no.” He looked up seemingly unsurprised to see DeVonte instead of Bobby. “Must go,” he said quickly exiting the small room.

  DeVonte lowered the headphones and watched with a look of total confusion as the wizkid left.

  Bartos looked down the barrel at the man. “What’s your business, friend?”

  “We heard the call. Want to go with you guys,” the man said. “That it?” pointing a finger up at the white cruise ship.

  Bartos leaned against a post, lowering the barrel only slightly. He was missing Solo more and more. The old Toyota was full of people, all filthy with a distant look in their eyes. Like nearly everyone, they’d seen hell up close. All were looking at the AG as if it were a mirage, something too good to be true. “It is,” he said impassively.

  He eyed the car once more, “It doesn’t appear that you brought supplies for the journey. That is one of our requirements. Unless you have an invisible trailer or something behind that beater.”

  The man dropped his eyes to the ground. “We tried. We left Ohio with enough, barely enough but…”

  Bartos eyed them all suspiciously, he’d heard countless stories like he was sure the man was about to offer. Beneath the filth, he tried to gauge the man’s age. Could be forty, could be sixty. Body is lean, he’s trying to appear weak and stooped but probably isn’t. His eyes moved over the others as the man continued to speak.

  “…couple hundred miles back. They took everything, mister. I swear.” The man turned and motioned at the two women and the men. “We haven’t eaten in days.”

  Bartos squeezed the trigger shooting the man in the chest. His years of distrust coupled with the crucible of surviving since the blackout had sharpened all of his senses. “You are not what you seem.” he said to the others in the car. Looks of shock and disgust registered on each. One of the women produced a short barrel shotgun and started to point it. “Would not do that, miss,” he said leveling the carbine at her head.

  “This is how you treat newcomers, this is your offer of salvation?” she said bitterly.

  “Lady, if you were robbed, they would have taken your guns.” He kept the gun on her as he flipped the dead man’s shirt up revealing a small handgun tucked underneath. “Y’all are on your own.” He raised a hand signaling. The rear window of the old car shattered as the round entered. The woman dropped the weapon and quickly scooted over into the driver’s seat and sped off.

  Mostly they had encountered good people, but not all. They did what they could to test the arrivals, but with the true Patriots, it was obvious. While many of the new arrivals looked as decrepit and malnourished as this bunch, you could usually tell the difference quickly. It shown in their eyes, a defiance, pride…some spark that indicated a deeper commitment. They always had supplies, they showed empty hands but indicated their weapons, and they all had weapons. No one survived in this world without them. He keyed the radio, “Thanks, Trish, nice shooting.”

  “No problem, Cajun, turning it over to the LT for a few. Tahir wants to talk to me and DJ.”

  Chapter Ninety-Eight

  Thunder Ridge Protectorate

  Skybox clipped a generic looking ID badge onto Scott's pocket as they ran. He was inside the compound; he could feel her nearby. Scott didn’t care about the alarm, he wanted Gia. “Where is she, Sky? Show me.” His friend shook his head. “Damnit, Sky!”

  Skybox slowed, then pulled him to one side of the wide corridor. “Look, I know you have to get to her, but just trust me, please.” A line of NSF troops ran past with automatic rifles, black helmets, visors and body armor. He looked at the muddy, black ill-fitting uniform Scott was wearing. “We have to get you kitted out man. You need to look the part.”

  They stopped by a supply room where Skybox quickly ordered the man to supply Scott with new gear. “I have to go to the command room. Meet me there when you are changed.” He showed Scott a locker room nearby he could use. He turned to leave, then looked back, “Having fun yet?” winked and sped away.

  The slightly overweight supply officer handed him the uniform, tactical helmet and weapons. “Throwing you right into the fire, eh? Must be a new arrival.”

  Scott nodded, “Yes, thanks.”

  “The commander likes you, that’s good. Those guys, well, they normally don’t speak to us regular types. Scary bunch, the boys in gray.”

  “You got that right.” He entered the empty locker room, changed into the fresh uniform and clipped the ID badge onto the new shirt. The helmet took some time to figure out. The mirrored orange visor seemed unnecessary, but when he put it on, a small display window powered on in one corner. The display showed a map of the entire protectorate. As he turned his head, the view changed. He was able to locate the general population areas, command center, power and facility engineering. Finally, the science wing. He had to fight the overwhelming desire to go there. He was already several feet in that direction when he forced himself to follow Skybox’s instructions.

  The command center was overwhelming. The guards manning the door had pointed him to Skybox. “He told us to send you right over,” one of them said.

  Scott nodded and walked over to his friend who was in a small room surrounded by video feeds from around the facility. Behind him, he could see numerous people using yoke controllers of what looked to be flight simulators. The activity level everywhere was frenetic but controlled. “What’s happening, Boss?”

  Sky looked up, momentarily confused, then smiled. “Damn, it’s Stormtrooper Montgomery.” He looked over the screens at the room beyond. Then reached over and clicked a switch on the helmet. “Radio link,” he said. “Hard to say anything in here without being overheard.” Skybox brought up a video of a drone attacking a column of tanks. “The military is attacking, and they have flooded the valley outside with infected.”

  “No shit, Commander. Sir.”

  “Oh, yeah, you’ve been out there. Well, so far, their artillery is missing us by a kilometer. Not
sure they can do any real harm to us anyway, but they are getting their asses kicked and nothing I can do to stop it.”

  Scott thought for a second before asking, “What do you have clearance to do?”

  “Base security, I can control the defense systems in the immediate area and in some parts of the camp itself. Nothing I do goes unmonitored, though.”

  “How did you manage the message with the mini-drone?” Scott asked.

  “It’s one of hundreds, I didn’t think anyone had noticed it had dropped out and gone into maintenance mode.”

  “Do you know where the team is?” Skybox shook his head. “Show me a map.” It took Scott a few minutes to orient himself to the topo map, but he finally found the access point and field he had come in from. He traced a finger back to where he’d left the team. “Here. Drop a drone down and find them.”

  Scott watched as Skybox selected one of the mini drones and had it descend. “No camera coverage in that area, we will have to wait for the drone feed.” In seconds, they could see foliage as the drone passed the canopy of trees on its way to the forest floor. The pre-programmed descent stopped at five feet and began rotating. “Holy shit.” The area was in ruins. The shelling here had been devastating. As the drone turned 180 degrees, they found themselves staring into the vacant eyes of an infected. Both men jumped a little. The expression was unreadable, but the creature radiated anger. It ignored the drone and shuffled past. Sky adjusted the camera to follow it, realizing as it moved away, that an arm was missing and a gash on its thigh was oozing blood with every step.

  “Lots of bodies, but looks like infected,” Skybox said. He clicked some keys to follow the infected shuffling northward. “They would have moved away from the incoming fire, but that would have placed them right inside the perimeter defenses. They would have gone from bad to worse.”