by Tom Calen
Chapter Twenty-Two
Dropping the gear where he stood, Paul immediately cut across the grassy field towards the cluster of men and the circular tent. He could hear Hicks cursing and hustling to catch up.
Paul’s emotions battled between relief and anger. A part of him had assumed Derrick had died in the year since leaving for Cuba. One man travelling alone in dangerous territory was unlikely to remain unscathed for long. Seeing his face in the camp, he could feel the kinship and bond he once shared with Derrick rising within him. Before Jenni turned, Derrick had been a vital member of the mountain camp’s leadership. The younger man’s energy, intelligence, and empathy had endeared him to the entire community.
All of that had changed, however, when Jenni had been bitten. Derrick had turned inward, shutting out all but his virus-stricken high school sweetheart until caring for her consumed him entirely. When Mike had mercifully ended her suffering, Derrick left the camp. Though he resurfaced during the escape, and saved Mike’s life in the process, he had opted to remain behind. Paul thought he understood his reasons. His heart, his very existence, had died with Jenni, and Derrick could not allow himself to “saved.” Seeing him in the camp now, Paul feared that the man he had once been was completely lost. How could he have turned to the Horde? the question seared Paul’s thoughts.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Hicks demanded once he reached Paul.
“It’s Derrick,” Paul told him and tilted his head in the direction of the tent.
“I can see that,” Hicks said with little surprise to his tone. “But what do you think you’re going to do? If he is part of the Horde, and he sees us, our cover is blown.”
“He’s not part of the Horde,” Paul insisted, though it was clear the words were said to convince himself.
“It’s been over a year, Jenson. You don’t know how far he might have changed in that time.”
Paul knew the truth in the mercenary’s words. A year was an eternity in this place. Mike, who had seemed so strong, had crumbled so drastically in that time that Paul could not believe he had once followed him. Derrick had been haunted for months before he stepped away from the boat. A year could certainly have carried Derrick Chancer far beyond any rational state.
“He can help us get Lisa.” Even seeing Derrick in the camp, Paul’s focus had not wavered from the mission’s goal.
“Not if he’s…”
Cutting Hicks off, Paul interjected. “Even if he is part of this place, he wouldn’t let anything happen to Lisa. He couldn’t have changed that much.”
He turned with anger and resumed his march towards the large tent while Hicks hung back in resigned silence. Only a few yards separated Paul and Derrick, when the latter looked towards former’s direction. Recognition broke across Derrick’s face and he quickly departed the group, ducking between a row of tents.
Undeterred, Paul regulated his pace to avoid scrutiny and followed the other man’s path. Derrick’s height, inches above most others, made following him through the camp quite easy. Eventually, his quarry slipped inside a blue camping tent. Seconds later, heedless of who might be watching, Paul pushed aside the canvas and walked into the tent.
The spacious tent was designed for a family’s camping adventure, with two separate wings branching off from the entrance. Paul was surprised to see the tent was furnished much like a true home: a pair of chairs bookended a table in the front, a desk and additional chairs stood in the left wing, and the right wing held a bed and dresser. Derrick, his eyes wild and expression unreadable, stood in the “office.”
“Did anyone see you come in?” Derrick demanded with force, though his volume was muted.
“What? No,” Paul answered with confusion. “Maybe. I don’t know. Derrick, what the hell are you doing here?”
“You need to go. If they see you with me, it could ruin everything.”
Paul’s mouth silently worked over words, but no sound came out. He had expected to question Derrick and his connection to the Horde, demand his help in releasing Lisa. But faced with the man now, he was thrown by his demeanor.
“I’m serious, Paul,” Derrick said as he advanced towards him. “You need to leave. Leave the camp. Forget you saw me here.”
“Leave the camp?” Paul sputtered. “What are you talking about? Derrick, what’s going on? Are you part of this… part of the Horde?”
He could see a flash of pain across Derrick’s face. The two stood but inches apart as Derrick repeated, “You need to leave.”
“We might, we might not. But first you’re gonna give us some answers.”
Paul had not noticed Hicks enter the tent behind him. The mercenary’s presence forced Derrick to step back considerably. The two had shared no close friendship in the mountain camp. Hicks, in fact, had been more vocal than usual once the infected-Jenni was brought in. Paul could feel the glaring heat passing between the other men’s stares. Fearing a physical conflict, which would only ruin the chance of reaching Lisa, he tried to mediate.
“Derrick,” he began. “We’re not here to cause you trouble. But the Horde has Lisa. They took her a few nights ago. If you can help us free her, we’ll be gone by morning. You could come with us… if you wanted.”
Turning his attention back to Paul, Derrick relaxed his tense stance by fractional degrees. “Lisa? Lisa’s not here.”
“She is. A few nights ago the Horde attacked a hotel in San Antonio. I was leading a search and rescue team and that was our base camp. Everyone’s been accounted for except Lisa. They must have taken her back here.” He could hear Hicks grumbling with dissatisfaction behind him. It was a risk divulging that much information to a man whose trustworthiness was questionable at best. Paul did not care though. He sensed that being forthright with Derrick offered their best chance of finding Lisa.
Shaking his head slowly, Derrick spoke with a hint of anguish in his voice. “She’s not here, Paul. I know about that raid. They didn’t come back with any prisoners, just military vehicles. I’m… I’m sorry about your team.”
As the words took meaning, the world seemed to crush in around him. The previously spacious tent suddenly clung to his space with a suffocating strength. There had been no body. No body in the rubble that had burned and tore at his hands. She had been taken prisoner. She had to have been taken prisoner. The hope of her being alive had served as nourishment to his soul over the past days. Now… now the emptiness rushed through him.
“Are… are you sure?”
Derrick must have read the desolation etched in his face. The younger man extended his hand to Paul’s shoulder as he spoke words filled with sincerity, “I’m sorry, Paul. She’s not here.”
With each shuddering breath Paul fought for balance, everything around him spun with nauseating speed. He forced his knees to lock to keep himself upright. He all but collapsed into the chair to which Derrick guided him. She’s gone, his mind cried out. I’ve lost another piece of myself. In that moment he envied Mike and his withdrawal from the world. To be insulated from pain, from all emotion—Paul envied him for that.
“Why should we believe you, kid?” Hicks asked. In his daze, Paul could see the flash of a long steel knife Hicks held casually. “We saw you back there. You seemed pretty friendly with the natives. So, now would be a good time to start talking.”
The overt threat was not lost on Derrick, and Paul could hear him slowly begin to unravel his part in the Horde.
“Drennan, he leads the Horde, he was there trying to keep you from escaping to the boat. A few others like him survived and when they fled, I followed them. About a month after they returned to the main Horde company, Drennan assumed leadership. Most believe he killed Burke, the old leader, but there was no body, no proof. I watched for a couple of months, followed their movements, and gained information. When I got caught spying, they dragged me before Drennan. I told him that I was on my way to join with them when I was found. He believed me and let me live.”
“So now you’re
one of them?” Paul managed to find his voice.
“Yes and no. The ones like Drennan, the ones that kill and steal, they’re in charge. But their numbers are small. Since I’ve been with the Horde, I found several dozen people who want to see Drennan gone. They joined for protection from the Tils, or in order to have food, or…”
“So, they just overlook the murdering and raping?” Hicks spat with disgust.
Derrick fixed the mercenary with a hard stare. Paul realized as he watched them that both men were panthers, stalking prey in the darkness before closing in with deadly, overwhelming power.
“It’s not that simple,” Derrick retorted. “Anyone that speaks out, questions him, or tries to leave without permission… he has them killed. Most of the people here are too afraid of Drennan to stand against him.”
“Before, when I first came in, you said ‘I could ruin everything,’ what did you mean?” Paul asked. Though the painful loss of hope that Lisa was alive smothered him, he could still feel the burning embers of vengeance smoking within.
“I’ve been talking to the others. Organizing them. They were so scared to voice their feelings, but eventually, when they realized others felt the same, they became bolder. They’re ready to act. Or at least they were. When Drennan’s people came back with your armored vehicles, it scared them back down.”
“You’re leading a coup?” Hicks asked with more than a little disbelief.
Derrick’s back strained as he answered simply. “Yes.”
Paul could not tell if Hicks’ expression was one of respect or mocking disdain. Hicks had already been working in the shadows when Derrick was busy studying for the ACTs. Whether the veteran believed he could successfully overthrow Drennan, Paul did not know, nor did he care.
“We’re in,” Paul announced as he rose from the chair.
--
Over a week had passed since their first encounter with Derrick in the Horde camp. In the intervening time, Paul and Hicks had met with several of the men who supported the removal of Drennan from power. It was, by necessity, a slow process that required significant subterfuge. Drennan’s loyalists may have been fewer in number, but Derrick had explained their vigilance in keeping their leader from harm. Most of the introductions and subsequent planning sessions occurred in the dark of night. Too large a gathering would be noticed, so usually it was Derrick, Paul, Hicks, and two or three others that would meet. The decisions and strategies would then be passed along to the others.
Paul had chafed at the snail’s pace; it sometimes took an entire day to disseminate the information, relay responses, and finalize a specific detail. While Paul had grumbled, Hicks buzzed with action. Much more accustomed to the task, he had proven an invaluable asset yet again. The assassin for hire had offered insights into each measure and countermeasure of action. As the week passed, Paul tried to recall political coups that had occurred prior to the outbreak. He could almost guarantee Hicks had been a part of them.
His presence also inspired the rebels. Coming from diverse backgrounds, lawyers and sales clerks, doctors and landscapers, the men opposing Drennan had little knowledge of military action. While Derrick had coaxed them out of their fears, it was Hicks who truly urged them to action. The addition of the Stryker vehicles and Bradley tanks to Drennan’s arsenal had rattled the rebels severely. But Hicks had developed a solution that would nullify that particular threat.
Over a week had passed, and now the time of action was upon them. Paul sat in his tent double checking each of the four weapons laid out on the mat before him. Derrick and the rebels had spent several weeks before the arrival of Paul and Hicks gathering up “misplaced” firearms. More often than not, the weapons were spirited away from other members of the Horde once they fell into liquor-induced sleep. Available to Paul were the two hand guns he had arrived with, as well as a single-barrel riot shotgun, and finally a Kalashnikov, or AK-47. While the weapons had been fairly easy to swipe, ammunition had been slightly more difficult to come by. Though there was an armory in the Horde camp, it was closely guarded and monitored by men loyal to Drennan.
“You ready?” Hicks asked as he ducked into Paul’s cramped single tent. If they were to compare nerves, he knew his own would be a jumbled knot compared to Hicks’. The man had been a calm lake for the last few days, not even a ripple on the surface. Paul, however, felt he was a river rushing over a cliff.
“Everyone in place?” he asked, dodging the question because the truth would be evident no matter how he answered.
“Just about.”
Rising from the canvas floor, he slid the handguns into the holsters on his hips, slung the shotgun across his back, and placed the AK into a folded blanket that he tucked under his arm. Hicks turned and exited, while Paul took a slow breath. Stepping out into the darkening dusk, he could feel the electricity of action course along his body. This is for you, Lisa, he offered silently.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The black paving of the parking lot coruscated sickeningly as she walked, slowly dragging one foot behind the other. Tiny flecks of light floated from the ground and danced around Lisa’s head. She smiled wonderingly at them. Why, she asked the voice in her mind. Why would anyone make a parking lot with so many hills? The hills made the crossing so challenging for her. It took hours to climb one and there were so many more ahead.
Her dry tongue slid across her even drier lips. The sun had baked and cracked the tender skin and the only moisture she tasted was the quickly-drying blood that trickled from the cracks in those lips. The black asphalt hills began to pulse and she realized they were not hills at all… it was an ocean! A black ocean, dark as space, and she was swimming along its vast width. If she was in water, why then did her body feel so dry?
Habit brought her hand to the tube of the camel back, and she placed it in her mouth. The water the device once held had been emptied days earlier. You’re out of water, the voice told her. You’ve been out of water for days, Lisa.
“I know that,” she mumbled aloud.
You have to get to the base.
“I’m going to the base,” she slurred, her speech sounding drunk. “I have to save Paul.”
Hurry! the voice commanded.
Before she had stepped into the ocean… where are the hills?… she recalled seeing a sign announcing Fort Polk. She knew Fort Polk was the answer, although the question hid in the dark foggy corners of her mind.
Thirst. That was what drove her now. Again, her hand reached for the tube, and again she sucked, and again her mouth stayed dry.
“Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink,” she half-sang as she stood motionless in the lot. Hearing the song brought a brief giggle to her mouth. Paul always made her giggle like that when he tickled the side of her neck. Paul. Where was he? Lisa turned her head and scanned the black water. He isn’t here, Lisa. You have to keep moving. They’re coming!
Fear gripped her. The monsters in the shadows were coming. She saw them in her dreams. Were they just dreams? Did she dream anymore?
They’re coming for you!
The voice screamed at her, and Lisa began to move again. The process was slow… the waves made it difficult. She knew the monsters would hurt her. The voice told her all the horrible things the monsters would do if they caught her. The stories the voice told were so clear Lisa could see them in her mind. Their awkward necks, the blood and gore that clung to them, the slick saliva that dripped from their gnashing teeth. The voice told her the monsters would eat her. She wished she knew as much as the voice did.
Lisa could see the end of the ocean. Strangely, there was no beach. The water ended abruptly at the edge of grass. The oddity passed through her and Lisa continued forward. Crossing the grass was as much a struggle as the ocean of black water had been. Weren’t they black hills?
You’re almost there, the voice encouraged her. The building in front of you! Through the door, down to the left, second elevator. 42739LV on the keypad. Hurry, Lisa!
L
isa raised her head from staring at the ground. The building seemed so far away. The more she stared at it, the further it drifted into the horizon. She had to keep going, she knew that. Lately, she could hear the monsters. Oh, they growled low to hide their presence from her ears, but she heard. She knew they were there. The voice told her they were there.
The building rose up before her, its sudden presence startling. She followed the voice’s direction and pulled on the heavy steel door. Her weak hand slipped back down to her side when the door did not move. The voice showed her an image of Lisa shooting the door’s lock. Removing the gun from her thigh, she raised it towards the door and pulled the trigger. Click. Click. Click. She knew what that sound meant, or at least the voice knew. The gun no longer had bullets. Lisa remembered now. There had been shadows chasing her one night and she had shot them over and over. The voice had told her not to do that.
Lisa’s legs felt like lead weights and she slowly turned and lowered herself to the ground. With her back pressed against the immovable steal door, she looked back over the grass. She saw them then… the monsters. They were not hiding from her anymore. No, now they were running at her.
--
“What is she doing?” Erik asked from the rear seat of the Jeep Cherokee. “Is she dancing?”
Mike could not deny that Lisa Velazquez’s movements as she stumbled across the parking lot did in fact look like some bizarre tribal dance.
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Just sit tight.”
For the past twenty minutes, once they spotted her on the grounds, Mike had inched the SUV along in a steady but distanced pursuit. They had arrived at Fort Polk a day earlier and made a thorough search of the area. There had been no sign of Lisa. Mike had feared that they had missed her, though Michelle had remained hopeful that Lisa would eventually make an appearance.