Trap had several bandoleers looped across his chest. He was grinning in anticipation.
They stopped at the first position and Cam took one of the bandoleers from him. He checked the guard towers. Empty. They were either idiots or low on personnel.
Or both.
Cam low crawled forward in the darkness of the dawn hour. He made his way up to the fence near the side entrance. There was a locked gate there and that was where he would set his first mine.
He set up the mine facing the gate and ran the cord back to the treeline nearby. Jim would be detonating it by hand later, or perhaps using a tripwire if time allowed.
He crawled back to Trap, and they made their way to the next entry point. It was the fenced in garden where Ed had originally escaped. Cam could see the plants had died in most sections of the field, but there was a thriving patch of turnips. He also saw lettuce and what looked like radishes and broccoli.
Good, they were still using the field. He thought maybe they would have quit planting until the spring.
He crawled to the section of fencing where Ed had escaped before and saw that the fence had been repaired.
Apparently, someone had found it. No matter, this time he was going to cut a different section, in a dark corner near the doorway. It wouldn’t be noticed, and it would be more concealed from the towers and windows.
He cut the bottom links there and reburied them, covering them with dead leaves and grasses to hide the disturbed dirt. Trap was over in the woods behind the prison, setting up the final part of the plan.
Nobody going that way would make it out alive.
They went back to the two teams and Cam gave them their orders. They were going to spend the day reconnoitering and gathering information about the enemy’s movements. Cam wanted to know if they had started the daily patrols again.
He hoped they had.
He hoped they had gotten complacent.
Angie
The day ended and they had learned that a patrol left the prison at ten a.m. and came back at three p.m. Tomorrow, they would find out if they left again. They would be staying out there tonight. It would be cold, but it was necessary, unless they wanted to pack the heavy weapons and ammo back through the woods.
They didn’t.
That evening, Cam attempted to contact the man inside, McDaniels. He tried for thirty minutes then switched off the radio. It would have been nice to make contact, but it wasn’t imperative to their plan.
She supposed those on the inside had given up hope by now.
Angie dozed a bit, and they took turns on watch. The other team would be doing the same.
The next morning, Cam came before dawn and reminded them of the next part of the plan.
This was the part she hated.
He was going to get himself caught. Actually, he was going to waltz right in the front door. He was taking a radio with him, well-hidden on his person.
“I’ll make contact when I can. Be sure to keep your batteries fresh. Do not get spotted and do not open fire until I give the order.”
“Roger that, Colonel,” Nick said.
“Yes, sir,” Monica added.
They went back to their places and Cam came up to Angie. She looked at him, tense and scared.
“I love you, babe,” he said, pulling her in for a kiss.
She kissed him back. His lips were warm and soft, and she breathed deeply, memorizing his smell and the feel of his arms around her.
“I love you too, husband,” she said.
“Stay safe,” he said, patting her rear.
He gave a quick grin, waved at Jim, and jogged off through the trees.
◆◆◆
Later that afternoon, after the prison patrol vehicle had returned at three p.m. for the second day in a row, Angie saw Cam roll in.
“Oh God, what the hell is he doing?” Nick said.
Angie closed her eyes and prayed that he wouldn’t be shot dead before he could even get inside.
They had heard the deep, throaty roar of the motorcycle long before they saw it.
When Cam came into view, they looked at each other wide-eyed.
He had morphed into some kind of Hell’s Angel variant, or what the Hell’s Angels wished they could be. He was dressed in black leather pants, black combat boots, and was shirtless under a black leather jacket. He had shades on, and his hair was blowing behind him.
Angie thought she might have to make him dress like that more often, if he survived the mission. She would demand it in payment for having to watch him put his life in danger.
Somewhere, he had found a matte black Harley with custom ape-hangers and saddle bags. He had his axe still slung over his back, and she could see he had a pistol in a holster on his belt.
He looked terrifying.
Would they let him keep his weapons?
She settled down to watch, her heart in her throat.
Chapter Nineteen
Inside and Outside
Cam
Cam purposely twisted the throttle, announcing his presence, though it went against all of his instincts for self-preservation.
He wanted them to be well-aware that he had arrived. Jumpy people were dangerous, they tended to have twitchy trigger fingers.
He cut the engine and leaned the bike onto its stand. His jacket creaked as he got off the bike. He made sure to keep his hands off his weapons.
He pulled a canteen from a saddle bag on the side of the bike and took a deep drink. He purposely hadn’t taken his best gear with him. He knew his pistol would probably be confiscated.
He was hoping they would let him keep the axe though. He had grown fond of it.
He walked right up to the door and saw a very young man in a guard uniform pointing a rifle at him. He looked nervous.
Cam stared him down.
He could see the young man’s finger on the trigger and knew that this one wasn’t well-trained. He would have to be careful that he didn’t get shot by accident.
He continued to stare coldly at the man through the glass of the door. He raised his hands to show that he was unarmed, for the moment. The man called in something on the radio, and they waited.
It was a stand-off, of sorts. The man opened the door, holding the rifle in Cam’s face.
“Who are you?” he asked. Sweat rolled down his temple and he brushed it away.
Geez, this one was nervous.
“Tell Jax I’m here to see him. Tell him it’s an old friend. A very old friend,” Cam commanded.
“I…I don’t know…” the man stammered.
“Tell him now,” Cam spat harshly, voice deep with barely leashed violence.
He knew how to play the game.
“Yes…sir. Umm, hold on please.”
Cam smiled inwardly. The young man listened to the reply from his earpiece.
“I’m instructed to bring you up. If you’ll follow me?” he said, glancing nervously at Cam.
Cam motioned him forward.
He was led up several flights of stairs. He passed several guards along the way and made a mental note about each one. He wouldn’t forget their faces.
He wondered if one of them was McDaniels.
Only a couple seemed to have any experience. The others were young— still green. Some of them glared at him suspiciously. He stared back until they averted their gazes.
It was important to establish the control right now if his plan was to succeed.
He also saw people he presumed to be the prisoners.
Some were dressed in civilian clothing and glanced furtively around them as they carried out their duties. Some of them were pretty banged up. He stared them down just as he had the guards. He couldn’t show any weakness or sympathy, or the game would be up.
He was finally shown to an office containing a desk and some chairs. It was a waiting room of sorts.
“If you’ll have a seat he’ll be right out, I’m sure.”
Cam ignored him and stood. He wandered around th
e office, looking at the plaques on the wall and the pictures of the prison from the old days.
He saw the chairs and desk were bolted to the floor. The file cabinets were locked. Nothing here could be used as a weapon. He glanced back at the chairs where Ed must have sat his first day here. He bunched his hands into fists then relaxed them. Now wasn’t the time.
His time would come soon enough.
The inner door opened suddenly, and Cam squared off to the man in the doorway.
He grinned.
Jax had gotten old…and soft.
The man was looking at him curiously, eyes scanning Cam’s clothing and face. Cam saw that he noted the weapons on his back. Cam slowly reached up and removed the dark sunglasses from his eyes.
Jax narrowed his eyes and frowned, studying him carefully. Abruptly, his eyes cleared, and his face lit up into a smile.
“You no-good son of a bitch! Coming to my house and demanding to see me. I should have known it was you!” he said, coming forward and offering his hand to Cam.
Cam didn’t want to, but he shook it anyway. He had to play this right.
“I never play by the rules Jax, you know that,” Cam said, grinning.
He knew Jax was startled by the change in him. Last time they had seen each other was about twenty-odd years ago. Cam had been a clean-cut young man then, about to join the military. Jax was going to college. They had been buddies throughout high school.
Jax had always had a bad streak running through him, but Cam never would have suspected him capable of murdering hundreds of people and imprisoning others.
“Where the hell have you been, Cam?” he asked. “And how are you here?”
“The gang I was running with after the shit hit the fan found a group of people. After they played with them a while, they told us about a man running a prison community. A man by the name of Jax Moran. I knew I had to drop in for a visit. Never thought I’d see you again this side of hell,” Cam said.
“A group you say?” Jax asked him, a suspicious gleam in his eyes.
“Yep. Out near some fairgrounds a while back. We left a man there with them and when we got back, he was dead, and the group was gone. I’m guessing they heard about our reputation,” Cam said, grinning darkly.
The warden smiled then. “I was wondering what happened to them. They owed us a debt.”
“I didn’t realize that. We didn’t mean to step on your toes there, buddy. What do they owe you, I’d be happy to make it up.”
Jax brushed that off. “Never mind all that. That’s old news. How long can you stay? I want to catch up, old friend. I don’t have anyone left here from the old days.”
“I can stay as long as you want. I have no obligations,” Cam replied.
“Good, good. I’m glad to hear it. We need someone like you around here,” Jax said and led him out of the office.
◆◆◆
A short time later Cam was being introduced to Jax’s second-in-command.
It was a man named Billy Tozier, and he went by Tozier. He was an average looking man, with a crewcut and a bored expression. Cam saw the intelligence in his eyes though and would not underestimate this man. It would be a mistake, a fatal one.
Next, Jax introduced him to a stunning blonde.
“Cam, this is Margot. She’s in charge of the guards, for the time being,” Jax said.
Margot looked startled at that statement, like it was a new development. Interesting.
“Margot,” Cam said, holding out his hand.
“Hello,” she said, shaking his hand. She looked to Jax for guidance.
“Well, let’s get you settled into a room, and we’ll catch up and talk. Tozier, you and Margot come up to conference room three in about an hour. Bring supplies for Cam…the good stuff,” he ordered.
He led Cam to another wing of the prison. Cam memorized the turns and visualized a map of the place in his head.
“This wing is where command sleeps. Me, Tozier, Margot, Doc, and a few others. The conference rooms have been turned into sleeping quarters. We’ve had a few vacancies recently. Several of our guards were killed,” he added darkly.
“Killed? By who?” Cam asked, a confused frown on his face.
“Outsiders. We don’t know exactly. We only know that shortly after we brought in a new refugee, there was a breakout of some kind. A gang took shots at my men and blew up a few vehicles. We never found out who. Haven’t had problems since then.”
Cam kept his expression neutral yet puzzled.
“I suspect they were after their buddy— the refugee we brought in. I believe they are long gone by now.”
“Guess there are more bad types than good left in the world now. I’ll tell you what. I’ll lend a hand with security if you want. Get these guards up to speed. I saw some pretty nervous kids out there. Right now, they aren’t capable of securing anything other than their dicks in their pants every morning.”
Jax lit up at the offer and accepted gratefully. “That would be excellent. I was hoping you’d offer. I need a loyal man to head up the guards. Margot tries, but she can’t gain their respect like a man would. At least I know she’s loyal,” Jax said.
“Happy to help, old friend,” Cam said, slapping hand down on Jax’s shoulder.
Jax led him into a spacious room, complete with mini fridge, sofa, television, and bed. A wardrobe on the far wall served as a closet.
“Here’s your room. Make yourself at home here, Cam. I’m glad you showed up. It gets lonely, having nobody to chat about the old days with. We’ll have to have a few drinks tonight and reminisce.”
Cam unslung his axe and leaned it in a corner near the bed. He ran his hand over the mattress and turned back to Jax.
“This is great, thanks.”
“I’ll go get Doc and bring him up so you can introduce yourselves. I’ve got to see about a few scheduling matters. We can talk about the guard training later tonight. Tozier and Margot will be here shortly with your linens and other things.”
Jax turned and walked to the door, he opened it and turned. “Welcome to Blackwood, Cam,” he said with a smile on his face. He left, shutting the door.
Cam sighed and rubbed and hand down his beard.
Phase two complete. He had seized the initiative. Now, he would dominate.
Domination is what he did best, after all.
Jim
Outside the prison, Jim watched Cam walk right in.
He’s a ballsy son of a bitch.
After he left their sight, they all breathed a sigh. He made it in alive, now he had to gain control. They would find out soon if he was successful.
If they didn’t receive a radio transmission from him in three days, they were to pack up and leave. They were ordered to abort the mission.
Jim was planning to disobey that order. He had made plans of his own for that eventuality.
They waited until dark, holding their positions. Jim waited anxiously for Cam’s transmission. The hours passing more slowly than he had ever witnessed before.
Finally, around midnight, it came.
“Mojo One, this is Barbarian. Over,” Cam said.
“Barbarian, this is Mojo One. Sitrep?” Jim returned.
“In like Flynn. Phase Three ASAP. Rotate the Golfs and have them standing by. Don’t know how long this will take. Over.”
“Roger that,” Jim said.
“I’ll try to make contact again tomorrow, same time. Out.”
Jim returned to the teams and informed them of the situation. Angie was particularly happy to hear that Cam was alive, and apparently doing well with his mission. He told the ‘Golfs’— Cam’s code for the gunners— about the rotation schedule.
“What does Phase Three mean though?” Angie asked.
Jim looked at her and grinned, his teeth flashing whitely in the dim light of the moon.
“Domination.”
Jack
Two days after the teams left, Jack was leading the women through the woods around th
e cabin.
They were doing a slow ten-mile ruck run. He wasn’t sure if they would be up to running with much weight on their backs yet, so he instructed each of them to start with twenty pounds. He knew it would really start to weigh on their shoulders about halfway in.
So far, they had gone four miles out. Cam had marked a run route several weeks ago using a vehicle’s odometer. At five miles they would turn around and go back.
“Come on ladies, keep up!” he yelled back without turning.
He knew Sasha and Natasha were lagging behind. He could see them almost three-quarters of a mile back, straining under the hard exercise. When he turned around, he would check on them. They were very petite. Maybe he should have started them out with less weight.
Twenty pounds was pretty much the bare minimum though, as far as water and a couple of days supply of food and survival gear went. They weren’t even carrying weapons on this run. They would need to do that next time.
He concentrated on keeping his breathing even and steady. In through his nose, out through his mouth. The thudding of his feet helped him time his breaths for maximum efficiency. He was going much slower than he would have if he’d been alone, so it wasn’t as taxing for him.
Abruptly, he heard a scream from behind. A scream of absolute terror.
He jerked around, searching for the source.
He had lost sight of the twins. They were no longer in their place at the rear of the ragged formation.
He saw Cara looking back to where they had been, wide-eyed and sweating. He finally spotted Natasha, further back, and she took off running back toward the place he had last seen Sasha.
“Cara, on me!” Jack shouted as he sprinted past her.
They ran as fast as they could, but when they reached the place where Natasha had left the road, they discovered why the girls had screamed.
Stumbling through the trees was a rotting, stinking ambush. The dead had discovered their hideaway.
“Cara, drop your ruck. Get back to the cabin. Tell Tanaka to come. Tell Mac to say with Jess. Go!” he ordered. She left.
Refuge From The Dead | Book 3 | Dead Fall Page 20