Mauser’s face quivered a bit as if he wanted to smile, but couldn’t make himself.
“Mauser,” he said. Mauser is still here. That means Gwen must be as well. I can’t leave. He wanted to hug his old friend. Rescue came early.
“Agent Steele?” Mauser said, mouth remaining flat.
“Yes.”
“Come with me.” The two men walked from the room followed by two soldiers with M16A4 assault rifles. Give me the signal, old buddy, and we will take these two out. Boots clicked along the hallway floor and a soldier opened a door to a side room. A lone chair sat in the center.
“You may sit.” Mauser gestured to the wooden chair.
“Should we tie his wrists?” asked a private.
“You may.” The soldiers went about zip-tying his hands together, and when they were done they stood at attention as if Mauser was some sort of infantry commander.
“You may leave. I will take it from here, Private,” Mauser said. The door latched closed and locked them inside. Mauser turned to face Steele.
“Jesus, man. Please don’t tell me you joined the Army at age forty.”
Mauser smiled, if only briefly, and a sad look washed over his face. His shoulders sagged. “Not exactly, Sergeant Yates gave me a squad to run. They’ve been hit up for knowledgeable veterans.”
“Alright, man. Get me out of these damn zip-ties. Where’s Gwen?” Steele said, wriggling his shoulders.
“Steele, I need to talk to you about something.” He paused. “And it isn’t nice.”
Steele looked over his shoulder at his hands. “Alright, but get me out of these ties.”
“Not until after we have discussed it.”
Steele’s heart started its long drop into his stomach. He looked at Mauser. The man’s face showed a level of visible stress.
“Discuss what?” Steele said, fear taking hold of his insides and squeezing his guts like a vice.
“It’s about Gwen.”
The words made his guts feel like the infected were ripping them free of his body.
Steele’s face scrunched in anger. “No. Don’t even start to say that.” Please let it not be true. Mauser was quiet. “No, Ben. Don’t.” Steele’s head wavered side to side.
“She’s alive.”
Steele was confused. He had expected the worst. Adrenaline dumped inside his stomach. The drop floated up like a wind-blown balloon. “I don’t understand. Was she hurt?”
Mauser grimaced. “No. Nothing to write home about, but something happened and it caused a problem here.” Mauser paced a bit, anxiety taking hold of him. “She’s gone, man. She disappeared with Kevin and Joseph.”
“And you waited for me. Thanks, bud. Now can you untie me?”
A pained expression took over Mauser’s face. “They killed people. They killed soldiers.”
“I don’t understand. Why would they do that? They wouldn’t just kill people. I mean, hell, we could hardly get Joseph to remove himself from the mobile lounge, let alone put a bullet in somebody.”
Mauser’s eyes were hard. “They did. The airfield has security cameras. We caught it all on tape.”
Steele sat in disbelief, shaking his head. They must have had reason. And who the hell is ‘we’?
Mauser stopped pacing and crouched down, grabbing Steele’s knee. “Gwen murdered a soldier. She shot him in the neck. They want her and the others back for a trial.”
Steele’s mouth dropped open a bit. “You’re kidding me, right? Like some sort of criminal? Where were you?”
Mauser looked down. “We had a disagreement. It was a suicide mission. I told them. They knew it was safer here, but they insisted.”
Blood pumped into Steele’s face. “You promised me you would look after her. You promised me nothing would happen to her, and now you tell me she left and you didn’t help her. Are you insane?”
“Are you all insane?” Mauser stood abruptly. “You were out there. It’s a freakin’ war zone. This was our best shot. Link up with the military. Strength in numbers. Fight our way west, together. It’s the only real option. Everything else leads to certain death.”
“You promised me.” Betrayal sank all the way to Steele’s bones.
Spit flew from Mauser’s mouth. “Promised you what? That I would die for your girlfriend’s stupid beliefs? Or that I would blindly follow her to death for some irrelevant cause?”
“Your job was to keep her safe for me.”
“Fuck your job, Steele. I am not your errand boy. She pointed a gun at me.”
Steele gulped. How could this have happened? She loves Mauser like a brother. I don’t understand.
“Fine. Get me out of these things so I can follow her.”
Mauser shook his head. “That’s where we have an issue. The men are looking to hang someone for murder, and they want to hang you.”
Does this betrayal ever end? “I didn’t do anything. Neither did Ahmed. Fuck, we completed Colonel Jackson’s mission for him.”
“They want to hang Ahmed too. He may be collateral damage in this whole thing. We will have to give them someone.”
“You can’t do that to him. It’s insane.”
“I don’t call the shots. The only insane thing here is not joining up. Colonel Jackson is willing to give you a full pardon and a platoon if you join him. He has already brought me into the fold. There were a few issues with some of the officers when it went down, but the men love me here. Three squares a day. Unlimited firepower. Even a girl here and there.”
“Mauser, who are you? This isn’t right. They can’t just start their own military.”
“Get off your fucking pedestal. What makes you the moral police? I know this. Those goddamn assholes sitting in Cheyenne Mountain aren’t doing shit for us. They don’t care about us and don’t give a rat’s ass if dead run rampant across America.”
“I thought we were friends. I thought you were different than this.” Steele knew that the government had failed every American, but defection wasn’t the answer.
“Yeah, well, so did I. Do the right thing. I know Colonel Jackson was hard on you before, but he needs good men. He’s even impressed that you came back alive.”
Steele shook his head. “He blackmailed me into doing it,” he exclaimed.
“Doesn’t matter. Men like us are the future. We will be all that’s left, and those that we protect.”
Steele put his head down. Digesting his friend’s rantings, he felt empty inside. Worse than anything he had endured yet was the damage that Mauser had done to them.
“You can take me back with the others,” Steele said softly but firmly.
Mauser lifted him up by the shoulder. “Come with us. The old world is gone. Help me build a new one.” Mauser’s gray eyes searched for meaning beneath Steele’s. Steele said nothing. After a moment, Mauser pounded on the door. “Private, open up.”
Steele was silent as Mauser and his soldiers led him back to the holding room. They opened the door and Mauser cut his ties. Steele rubbed the blood back into his wrists.
“Tomorrow, is all you have, or they will hang you.”
“Tomorrow,” echoed Steele.
JOSEPH
Grand Haven, Michigan
A drawbridge connected Grand Haven to the mainland. It lay flat over the Grand River, providing access to the beach town from the north. Joseph’s allies would have had to backtrack miles to go around to the other side.
The citizens of Grand Haven weren’t lucky for leaving the drawbridge down. Joseph seemed to be the only one who noticed the sign that read Grand Haven: Michigan’s West Coast, had two bloody fingered streaks like someone had been hanging onto it until ripped away.
“Follow Harbor Drive,” Gwen said from the front seat. They passed boat slip after boat slip along the Grand River. The river ran along the town, emptying out into Lake Michigan. Almost all of the slips were empty. Is it the time of year? Or did these people get enough warning to take their sailboats, yachts, and fishing craft to se
a? He didn’t know.
They followed Harbor Drive for a few miles until they came to a sharp bend in the road. A line of black and white squad cars overlapped with a few blue state trooper cruisers blocking their progress. The police officers and troopers had used the river as part of their barrier to funnel the dead into a small killing zone.
“Like the pass of Thermopylae,” Kevin said from the backseat, leaning forward between Gwen and Joseph. Hundreds of bodies were piled up high in front of the cruisers. Crows and gulls hopped from corpse to corpse. Windows were smashed. Blood stained the black and white squad cars. No officers manned the barricade. Infected roamed aimlessly near the barrier as if they had arrived late to a party and weren’t allowed inside.
“There.” Gwen pointed to a small gap near the river. “If we can get through that gap we can follow the beach up to Shuttlecock Drive. It’s just off of South Harbor Drive,” she said.
Joseph had memorized the map. They were close. So close he could taste it. Everything depended on it.
“That’s a tight fit,” Gwen said. “Do you think we can make it?” She looked at Joseph questioning their gumption.
Joseph’s hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, the resistance building up inside of him. You can’t make it. He won’t be there. Your quest has killed innocent people for nothing.
Be quiet! he shouted at the voices of defeat. He shooed the doubters from his head. “Do we have any other choice?” Joseph said.
“You are sure you can do this?” Gwen said. Her lack of faith in his abilities further battered his will. She is used to brave men, strong men, who take charge in situations like this to save the day. Not men like you. Stand down.
“Do we have any other choice?” he shouted.
“No,” she said timidly.
“Buckle up, you two,” he commanded. Gwen clicked her seatbelt into place, looking at him fearfully, like he may have gone crazy. He briefly snapped his strap, ensuring it was in its proper place and feeling the sting across his chest.
“Kevin. Put your seatbelt on,” he said.
“Alright, Joseph. Take it easy,” Kevin said in his ear. His seatbelt clicked.
“Are you sure, Joseph?” Gwen doubted.
No time.
He jammed his foot down on the gas pedal, forcing their backs into their seats. Sand spun up from beneath his tires, and the pickup roared ahead for the last two police cruisers. They picked up speed, dust clouding the air around them. Joseph steered the oversized pickup for the tiniest gap between the cruisers, his eyes unable to leave the smallness of the space.
The truck’s front end crunched into the cruisers.
“Oof,” Gwen yelled over the crashing of metal and plastic.
The cruisers absorbed the impact, but the pickup persevered, driving the last car closer to the water. The cruiser’s front wheels teetered on the edge of the retaining wall. The truck didn’t shoot the gap though. Joseph threw it in reverse.
“Here we go again,” he said, throwing it into drive. The second time the truck struck the cruisers the airbags went off. The police cruiser teetered off the edge and splashed into the river, disappearing beneath the greenish-brown surface. Joseph slammed on the brakes and wrestled it into park unable to see.
Gwen pulled a knife and stabbed her airbag, unable to see. White dust covered everything inside the car. Kevin coughed.
“This stuff has to be bad for you,” Kevin hacked.
“Is everyone okay?” Gwen shouted as she pushed the air bag down with both hands.
“Yes, I am fine,” Joseph said, rubbing his neck with his hand. She stabbed his airbag and he tried to shove it back into the steering wheel.
“Infected are coming,” Kevin said.
Hands beat the sides of the pickup truck. Joseph put it in drive and gassed the pedal. The truck wobbled down the beach, turning up sand with spinning tires. He struggled to keep the pickup driving straight.
A long concrete pier stuck out into the water topped by a single red lighthouse at the end. The truck limped, a gray smoke plume rising from the engine.
Three-foot white caps crashed on the shore. This place was even beautiful in the recess of summer. They eventually cut up and off the beach at a white lifeguard tower.
A few excruciating minutes later and they were there. Shuttlecock Lane was across from the beach. Joseph stopped the pickup and threw it into park.
He got out, peering up at a large ranch house with a large bay window facing the water. The window had been broken and covered again with wood. His comrades exited the vehicle. Joseph was close to knowing the truth.
“We made it,” he said to Gwen. She flashed him a quick, nervous smile.
“Yes, we did,” she said, a fierce determination settling on her pleasant features.
The three cautiously traversed the steps to the front door. Joseph reached a hand out, stopping mere inches from the door knob. What if he isn’t here? Then what? You keep looking.
Joseph twisted the door knob, finding it stiff and unrelenting.
“Around back?” Gwen offered. Her shoulder touched the side of the house as she covered behind them.
They all stalked around the house. Joseph thought about knocking. Maybe the man was home.
Kevin peeked through the windows. “I don’t see anything.”
Joseph twisted the handle of the back door to no avail.
“We could force the door?” Gwen said, holding her carbine close to her chest.
“Yes, we must,” Joseph said. He felt like his insides wanted to burst from his chest. He was so close.
Gwen swung the stock of her carbine into the window and reached inside to unlock the door. The house was dark. No lights; not even the microwave was lit up. Empty cans littered the kitchen.
“Power must be out,” Kevin said, taking a nervous pull from his flask.
“Somebody was here,” Gwen said, covering her nose as she held up a can of tuna. The living room had a nice leather couch and flat screen TV. Sailboats, ship wheels, and decorative fisherman’s nets were displayed on the walls. Pictures lined the mantel of a man and a woman with a young girl.
Joseph’s gut wrenched at the eeriness of being inside someone’s home; someone that was now dead. People were here, living a normal life, and now they were dead. They didn’t smile anymore. They didn’t play in the sand. They couldn’t go for a walk. They were decomposing flesh somewhere out there.
A man stared back at Joseph in the photo. Patient Zero. Thinning hair braced his scalp, hardly covering his almost-bald head.
They slowly checked the kitchen and living room. A hardwood floor hallway led to the bedrooms. The doors were all closed. Joseph creaked down the hallway and jumped as he was answered by a pounding from the far door. Hands beat the wooden door panel erratically. Muffled moans sounded from behind the door, and Joseph’s heart began to sink. He crept forward, his small knife in hand. Maybe this was the wrong house. Maybe Dr. Anderson had given him the wrong address.
He almost shit himself when Kevin placed a hand gently on his shoulder.
“How many?” he whispered. Gwen tiptoed behind them.
“I don’t know, two?” he responded.
“I got this, Doc,” Kevin said. Kevin gave him a pat on his arm as if he recognized his own expendability.
“Are you sure?” Gwen asked.
“Can’t leave the West Virginia boys outta the fight.”
Kevin’s footsteps groaned on the wooden floors.
Joseph followed behind, the all too familiar smell of rotting flesh stinging his nostrils. Kevin reached for the handle of the door. He looked at Joseph and Gwen and mouthed one, two, three.
His fingertips jingled the knob and a blur struck him from behind. Kevin’s neck whiplashed. The thing growled as it took Kevin down onto his stomach. Joseph froze in the moment.
The door grumbled open as Kevin fell and, within seconds, two ghostly figures moved for Joseph. A mother and daughter, still in their pajamas. Blac
k blood had run down their nightgowns; long since dried. Pale gray skin hung from their bones, and bleach-white eyes stared right at him. They ignored Kevin and his assailant as they wrestled for position. Arms outstretched, they reached for Joseph as if he were a long-lost uncle. They were mesmerizing, mother and daughter together in one purpose. The discharge of a gun near his ear made him cringe. He crouched down, deafened by the blast that reverberated down the hall. He watched both bodies fall to the floor unmoving. Gwen was yelling at him, but he couldn’t hear her.
He rushed forward and rounded the corner to find Kevin battling in mortal contest with his foe. They rolled back and forth, both attempting to gain advantage. Kevin’s knife swung around wildly searching for the flesh of his opponent. Gaining composure, he swung his arm back to gather speed, force, velocity for a killing knife thrust.
Joseph knew what he did not.
“Kevin, no,” he called at the man. Joseph dove for Kevin and grabbed his arm. Joseph joined them on the floor and the assailant scrambled away. The man crawled into the hallway until he reached the mother and daughter. He clutched their lifeless forms, one in either arm and wept.
Joseph slowly got up. He felt an odd pressure in his arm.
Kevin frowned, jumping upright. “Why did you do that?” he yelled at Joseph.
Joseph looked down.
“Oh man,” Kevin screeched. His face turned red. A knife hilt stuck out of Joseph’s upper arm, driven through in the attack. Red seeped around the blade, beginning to spread out in an uneven crimson circle. Joseph felt his stomach go weak, and he scooted back against a little girl’s bookshelf filled with pink, purple, and green books.
“Gwen, we need the med kit,” Joseph called out.
Sobbing faintly hit Joseph’s ears from the hallway.
Gwen pointed her carbine at the man’s skull.
“Shoot him,” Kevin shouted.
Gwen’s mouth twisted as she tightened her finger on trigger, only stopping after a moment. “What about him?” she yelled.
The End Time Saga (Book 2): The Breaking Page 37