Refuge From The Dead | Book 3 | Dead Fall

by Masters, A. L.

  Cam then looked to Tanaka and noticed he was ready and waiting.

  “Watch our tail as we move,” he instructed.

  Tanaka nodded in reply, his face impassive.

  He leaned down and pulled out the pack of cheap cigarettes, discarding the plastic. He pulled one out and tore off the filter. Tanaka watched with great interest. Cam pulled a length of rolled cannon fuse from his pocket and cut off a section. He pushed this into one end of the cigarette. To the end of the fuse, he twisted a bunch of firecrackers.

  He laid this assembly near the edge of the trees. He lit the empty end of the cigarette and made sure it was smoldering.

  They took off then, Cam moving more slowly this time in deference to Mac’s injury. They traversed the densely wooded area as quietly as possible. Tanaka moved even more lightly than Cam through the dead leaves and undergrowth. They reached Ed’s group several minutes later. The women guarding the rear of the little rally point looked scared at their approach and Cam held up a hand.

  “We’ll move in five. Ed, you carry the weapons. Trap, you got the ammo. I’ll be right back.”

  Cam repeated the firecracker setup and then got the group moving. The ladies stayed in the middle of the small, messy formation. He kept them in a line, while he stayed off to the side.

  He directed Tanaka to keep moving, pointing out the way. When they were a short distance away, they heard the burst of firecrackers in the distance. To one unfamiliar with the sound of different caliber weapons, it may fool them into believing they were being fired upon.

  They had made it a mile into the woods when the second burst ignited. The pops echoed faintly through the trees. They needed to hurry now. Not only did they need to get back to the cabin and load up, but they would also need to find another working vehicle as well.

  They moved steadily through the forest, with Cam checking on Mac occasionally. He seemed to be looking a bit pale, but they couldn’t stop to rest. They pushed on.

  The humidity was oppressive, and the heat hadn’t abated, even under the shaded canopy of trees. Mosquitoes were buzzing in clouds, attacking the group, and causing an extra measure of misery.

  Cam hardly noticed them, but the others weren’t so lucky.

  It was getting later in the afternoon when they reached the clearing to the cabin. Cam had them sit on the small porch while he went and pulled the Humvee out of the barn. Some of the workers looked a little shocked at their ride.

  Tanaka’s mask of serenity cracked, and Cam saw his extreme fascination in the vehicle.

  “Let’s get everyone mounted up. Some of you will have to double up, and some will be in back with the cargo until we find an extra vehicle.”

  They loaded up the weapons and gear, and Cam instructed Tanaka to stand up in the turret. He wouldn’t be using the machine gun, but he could use the M4 if there was a need.

  Cam could always jump on the gun if they needed extra firepower.

  The two women, Sue and Linda, ended up riding in Ed and Trap’s laps, looking somewhat uncomfortable and embarrassed. Mac rode in the back, sprawled among the gear. His head had finally stopped bleeding, but he would need extra attention when they got somewhere safe.

  He looked around the cabin clearing. Cam wouldn’t miss it. He had spent a week and a half in this hovel, and he hoped never to see it again.

  He started up the Humvee and the deep rumble of the diesel engine was strangely comforting in these surroundings. He had his friend back and he had his ride home. He was content with that.

  He would be truly happy when he got back to the island.

  They pulled out of the old dirt road and onto the highway. As they passed the wreck of the first patrol, the others went silent and rubbernecked at the carnage. He saved them the trouble of asking.

  “That was the first patrol,” Cam said.

  “Good work,” Trap said. “Claymore?”

  “Two.”

  Trap nodded, apparently familiar with the evidence. Cam guessed the holes in the body of the SUV were kind of telling. Dominick Dunne wouldn’t be needed here.

  “I think we should be able to pick up another vehicle at one of these farms around here,” Cam said to the passengers.

  He glanced at them, seeing their pale, fearful faces, and Tanaka’s legs. He must really like the turret. Cam guessed it was the freedom of being outside the fence. He would have gone crazy being locked up for three months like some of these folks.

  He was made to roam at will. Wild.

  Twenty minutes away from the prison they came upon a farm set back off the road. They turned in, hoping to find an SUV or van or something to carry the extra people. He pulled up the driveway and was startled to find a large dog guarding the road. He didn’t growl, he just stood. He was a silent sentry for a still piece of land.

  Cam was going to take a chance.

  “Stay here. Do not leave the vehicle.”

  He opened the door, and stepped out into the cooler evening air, expecting the dog to bark and lunge straight for him. He didn’t, he just eyed Cam warily.

  “Good boy!” Cam said to the German Shepherd.

  The dog cocked his head at the sound of a human voice, as if remembering.

  “Yeah. Such a good boy! You want a treat?” Cam rustled around in his pocket and pulled out a piece of jerky from his cargo pocket. He tossed it to the dog and hoped for the best.

  The Shepherd stepped forward haltingly, as if testing to see of Cam would lunge for him the second his nose was to the ground. He obviously had experience with the Zs.

  Cam wondered how long he had been here alone.

  “Hey buddy, is that good? You going to let me pet you?” he got a bit closer and squatted down in front of the dog, holding out a hand for him to smell.

  The German Shepherd took a few tentative steps closer to Cam, perhaps smelling the beef residue on his hands or perhaps just lonely. He sniffed the back of Cam’s hand before taking a hesitant lick.

  Cam brushed his hand back over the dog’s head and scratched behind his ears.

  “Good boy. I bet you thought you’d never see anyone again. Didn’t you! Didn’t you!”

  “Uhhmmmm, Cam?” someone said with a hint of laughter.

  Cam turned at the sudden unexpected voice. He had been caught off guard and that hadn’t happened in long time. He stood up quickly and put his hands behind his back.

  “You say anything about this, and I will take you back to prison,” he said in warning.

  Ed only smiled. “I won’t say a word.”

  Cam moved closer to the farm, seeing a few abandoned— or potentially abandoned—vehicles. There were two large pickup trucks and a Tahoe. Any one of them would work for their purpose.

  He walked closer to the door of the old farmhouse. The closer he got, the more he noticed the stench. It was death, and it was coming from the house.

  Shit!

  He didn’t want to have to deal with any deaders today, especially in the dark. He looked at his watch.

  It was eight-fifteen. It would be full dark soon.

  He wanted to finish up this mission and get back home. They needed to get moving to the cabin and secure it before the cold weather hit. It was getting closer to September and the cold would come soon after.

  He reached out to knock against the screen door. He didn’t expect anyone living to answer it. As expected, a minute later, a deep groan came from the dark interior. Death wafted out from the stale air.

  It was a woman, probably the wife of the farmer. She looked more recently dead than most, and he wondered how long ago she had died.

  The dog beside him growled deep in his throat and backed up and lowered himself to lunge at the familiar, yet monstrous, creature.

  “Shhhh. It’s okay, boy. Sit!” Cam commanded.

  The dog did not obey, and he kept growling.

  Cam looked at the German Shepherd and considered for a few seconds. He tried a different tactic.

  “Platz!” he said, pointing a
t the ground. The dog immediately lowered to the ground, though he whimpered in protest.

  “Good boy,” Cam said. “Bleib,” he commanded, intending the dog to stay there. It did.

  Looks like they had a new dog. He hoped Angie didn’t mind.

  Ed

  Ed watched as the dog settled down.

  He pulled his pistol and checked the magazine. He saw Cam pull his axe from its place on his back. It was such a familiar movement that Ed felt an inkling of nostalgia before he really realized what he was feeling nostalgic about.

  He was actually feeling pretty darn happy about seeing Cam pull his axe. He shook his head in wonder at that.

  Cam stepped forward and opened the screen door, releasing the rotting person behind. The woman stumbled down the steps and fell, smacking the sidewalk with a revolting fleshy, liquidy sound.

  Her face bounced off the concrete with a sickening thud and he wished Cam would have just kind of pushed her back into the house.

  The dog whined again but didn’t move. He was well-trained.

  Cam raised the axe and lowered it, seemingly effortlessly severing the top of the woman’s head. Ed looked away as the contents of her skull cavity leaked onto the sidewalk. It smelled as bad as it looked.

  He held a hand up to the passengers of the Humvee. Tanaka seemed to be fine with Cam’s display of axemanship. His face hadn’t changed a bit at the grisly sight. Ed couldn’t see in the back very well, but he thought he saw Trap giving him a thumbs up.

  He followed Cam into the farmhouse cautiously, expecting the farmer to jump out at him.

  The inside of the house was a mess. Dishes had been piled in the sink and were now rotting. The counters were littered with opened cans and medications. He saw empty bottles of flu medication and wondered if these people had gotten bit somehow or had died of sickness.

  That was an unsettling thought.

  He peered around the gloom, trying to make sure they were alone.

  Cam disappeared down a dark hallway. Ed could hear a soft, rhythmic thudding coming from the back of the house. He didn’t like it. It was a human noise, but brainless—thoughtless.

  He passed a doorway to an empty living room and saw dust covered furniture and another door leading to who knew where.

  Crack!

  Ed saw Cam kick open the door and enter the room with determination. He watched him swing the axe overhead and heard the sharp thump as Cam buried it into the thing behind the door. He rounded the doorframe, careful not to touch the gore that was now splattered across several surfaces.

  The former farmer was wearing pajamas, Ed noticed.

  This was definitely a sick room. Ed could see the paraphernalia of illness in the bright beam of Cam’s light. There were more bottles of medication and cups on the nightstand. The bed had been occupied for quite a while if the stained sheets were any indication.

  Tissues littered the floor around the wastebasket in the corner. A wash pan of water sat on a dresser. It had a cloth lying in the bottom of it. Perhaps an attempt to cool a raging fever?

  This was bad.

  “Cam, we need to get out of here. This man may have died of some kind of sickness. I don’t like it.”

  “I think you’re right. Let’s go outside and wash our hands and sanitize. We don’t have any masks, but we should have some gloves we can wear while we search for keys.”

  They stepped back outside, avoiding the leaking corpse.

  This was just getting too damned disgusting. Ed dumped several drops of pilfered antibacterial soap on his hands and lathered them up. Cam repeated the action. They scrubbed well.

  Ed still felt a bit squeamish about it, so he dumped on a bit of hand sanitizer as well.

  “Grab two sets of gloves from the back of the Humvee. We need to go find those keys,” Cam instructed.

  It was several minutes later that they were prepared to go back into the sick house. They had wrapped bandanas around their faces, though Ed didn’t know if it would help at all. It wouldn’t hurt though, and it would help with the smell.

  Cam went back to the bedroom to search for keys while Ed concentrated on the kitchen. He rifled through cabinets and drawers. He found concerning amounts of bloody tissue in the kitchen trashcan.

  Why would there be so much?

  “Ed, come here a minute,” Cam shouted from the back bedroom.

  “Find them?” he asked.

  “No, but I want you to see this.”

  Cam was standing just outside the door when Ed found him.

  “Look closely at that man’s face and tell me what you see.”

  Ed crept closer, not liking the feeling of wading through an ocean of invisible death-dealing particles. Who knew how contagious the illness was?

  As he studied the dead man’s face and head— what was left of it anyway— he saw what Cam had noticed. The man had dried, old blood staining his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. Ed glanced back over at the bed. He tiptoed in and gingerly pulled back the blankets. Blood, dried a deep rusty color, stained the middle of the bed.

  “Shit, Cam, this is really bad. This is some kind of hemorrhagic plague or something.”

  The large amount of bloody tissues in the can made sense now.

  “That’s what I was thinking. Fuck!” Ed heard Cam whisper, though it was muffled through the bandana.

  “Let’s get the keys and leave.”

  They finished searching, finally finding the keys on a hook behind the door.

  They left the house of death and sanitized everything that they possibly could. Trap and the two women moved over to the new pickup truck, and Mac moved into a seat in the back of the Humvee.

  Chapter Ten

  Bitten

  Jim

  Jim crept up the dark, silent stairs to the basement door.

  The women had told him that it led into a small pantry off the kitchen. It was kept locked, but that wouldn’t be a problem for him. Nick let the faint glow of the red lens equipped headlamp illuminate the lock. Jim worked quickly and quietly on the tumblers, defeating them in a fairly short amount of time.

  “Stay close, light off,” Jim said before opening the door.

  It opened silently, thank goodness.

  They stepped through and into the pantry. The shelves were well-stocked, meaning that they had either started with a massive stockpile of goods, or they went out regularly and obtained more.

  Jim was careful not to bump anything in the close quarters as he moved forward into the large kitchen. It was a beautiful kitchen and Jim could see that it was spotless. He supposed the women took care of that. The tattooed one had given him directions to the occupied bedrooms. She had also said they should be dead drunk and passed out by now.

  They walked softly through the unfamiliar house.

  In any normal time, Jim would have been awestruck at the complete opulence and grandeur of this place. The living room alone would fit the entire houseboat. It was extreme luxury. Now just didn’t give a shit. It meant nothing.

  They took the carpeted stairs to the first landing and turned left into the eastern wing of the house. This was where the party happened every night, for the men anyway. Now it was still and dark. Moonlight filtered through the barred windows and Jim used it to follow the girl’s directions to the letter.

  He turned the knob of the door to the second bedroom, where the other two men were bunked. It was dark inside except for the faint glow of a battery-operated candle.

  Assholes must be scared of the dark.

  Jim instructed Nick to shoot the two men as soon as he heard Jim fire in the next room.

  He nodded and raised the rifle to the ready position.

  Jim left him there with the door opened and padded softly to the master bedroom. This was where Cara was.

  He would need to exercise extreme caution with his aim.

  He cracked the door as quietly as he could and slipped in. He approached the raised four-poster bed and heard two distinct sounds of breathing.
>
  One of the two was awake.

  Looking off to the side of the bed he made out the smaller outline under the covers. It was Cara, and she was facing away from the man in the bed. She was wide awake, the whites of her eyes gleamed in the darkened room.

  She was scared.

  He raised his finger to his lips and shushed her silently, hoping she could see him clearly enough to not be afraid. If she screamed, he would have to fire with her in the bed. He motioned for her to slide out slowly and come toward him.

  She shook her head.

  He was puzzled, until he followed her gaze up to the length of shackles that the man had fastened to the bedpost. He was using a pair of cuffs to imprison her in the bed at night.

  Jim nodded in understanding then and once again brought his finger to his lips. He picked up a throw pillow from a nearby sofa and placed it over her exposed ear. He pulled her free hand up, forcing her to hold it tightly. She did.

  He raised his rifle and aimed. He fired two shots into the sleeping man’s torso. Two seconds later he heard three shots from the room next door, then a fourth an instant later. It was done.

  The man twitched for several moments and slid to the floor with a muffled thump, before lying still. Jim then pulled the pillow from her head.

  “They’re dead,” he said calmly.

  She looked up at him, then over at the mess beside her. She was sprinkled with the blood of her captor. She got out of the bed and reached for her clothing, dressing quickly. Jim turned his back to give her some privacy.

  “Is he going to turn into one of them?” she asked Jim.

  “Yes, any time now. I need to deal with him.”

  “Go ahead then,” she said without feeling.

  Jim shot the dead man in the head. He would stay really dead for all time. Perhaps it was too good of a death for him, but Jim didn’t want to leave him to wander and perhaps kill someone.

  “Let’s go get Nick, then we’ll get your friends. They said they want to come with us.”

  “I’ll need to speak with them privately about that,” she said simply.