The Outbreak Series (Book 4): Deadlocked

by Baker, Thomas

  The crowd mumbled and groaned. Henry's death wasn't enough bloodshed for them?

  Cash exited the stage without another backward glance. The guards ushered Gus and the rest off towards where they came in. The crowd split for them once more. Either the guards didn't notice or didn't care, but Madison stayed glued to his hand.

  Gus didn't feel as if he would get out of this one. Hopelessness twisted his gut as he glanced around the room. If there was strength in numbers, his crew didn't stand a chance.

  DODGE

  Hannah and JT rolled up on Cheyenne as the day was coming to a close. Hannah had spent the last two hundred miles driving in deep meditation while JT slept beside her. She prayed that they were on the right path, that they would find Gus and the rest of the town. The chances seemed slim. She had given it to God though. It was all she could do.

  The plan was to stop here for the night and roll into Laramie fresh in the morning. They didn't know what they would find, so they had to be as prepared as they could. She had mapped out the route, taking highway 85 up into the city. That kept them away from the clogged interstates. Most of the ride had been smooth and clear. For a little while, things were going their way.

  "Wake up, we're entering Cheyenne. I need your extra eyes."

  JT yawned and looked out the window. "Heh, looks the same here as everywhere else. Good driving by the way. I haven't slept that good in a car for a while, or we should have car sex more often." Hannah rolled her eyes with a smile as JT leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

  Up ahead, their luck broke. A huge tangle of cars and semi-trucks made a wall across the entire highway. Before the pileup was an exit for East College Drive. Hannah eased the truck through the wreckage around the highway exit.

  They drove on for a while longer at low speed. The roads were clear of snow at least. It was the abandoned cars and dead bodies Hannah had to avoid. They crossed under a bridge. Up ahead she spotted a Walmart Supercenter.

  "Should we stop in, search for supplies?" JT asked.

  "Not when it's getting dark. Not just the two of us."

  JT shrugged. "Good-look out!"

  A man slid down the concrete underpass and stumbled in front of the truck. Hannah slammed the brakes and skidded to a stop. She flipped the headlights on, a little too late to be of much help now. The man held up his arms while facing them. Hannah put the truck in park.

  "I'm going to get out and make sure he's okay. Cover me," Hannah said.

  "It could be a trap, you know that right?" JT didn't seem too happy.

  "That's why I asked you to cover me."

  She snatched up the rifle on the seat between the two of them and hopped down. The man continued to stand where he stopped, one arm shielded his eyes. His clothes, brown corduroy pants and brown overcoat, were filthy, hole filled rags. What he wore wasn't well taken care of, but the beard on his face was.

  Hannah stopped next to the hood of the car. She called out. "Sorry about that. I didn't see you up under the bridge. You okay?" Hannah heard JT's car door open behind her.

  To his credit, the man didn't move. "I shouldn't have run out like that. It was just-it's been a long time since I've seen other people."

  "You're by yourself then?" Hannah asked.

  The man took two steps towards Hannah. She made a show of putting her rifle up to her shoulder. The man dropped his arm. He looked unsure of what to do next. He stopped moving towards her. "Yes, I'm by myself. It's been easier to survive that way. Like I said, I jumped out of reflex."

  The man coughed and cleared his throat. Hannah took a step forward. "You okay?"

  "Yeah," the man answered, wiping his chin. "I picked it up over the winter. I'm used to it though. I've lived out on the streets before the deadheads started walking them."

  Hannah frowned. Talk about down on your luck. The man was homeless, then he survived The Outbreak and remained all alone. JT's voice boomed behind her.

  "What's your name, buddy?"

  "I'm Dodge," the man said, taking a step forward.

  "Dodge?" JT belly laughed. "Really? Dodge? Oh boy, if only Gus were here." He brought himself under control. "It's not a nickname, like Jelly is it?"

  Hannah swore she saw Dodge's face flicker from worn to annoyed for a second. "Dodge, you sure you haven't seen other people come through here lately?"

  Dodge smiled as if he was getting into the spirit of JT's laughter. "Yeah, Dodge is my name. And to answer your question, no. I would know. I'm like the mayor of Cheyenne now." He took another step towards Hannah.

  "You can stop right there." JT's mirth evaporated. He sounded all business. The clink of what was likely his pipe seemed loud in the emptiness.

  Dodge put both hands up. "Whatever you say, big man." He looked from JT to Hannah. "Let me tell you something, before anyone gets trigger happy. I ain't seen nothing, but I've heard things." He tapped his right ear. "What are we going to do here, lady? Want to hear what I heard?"

  Hannah wasn't sure. The man seemed to be by himself. If there was an ambush, she expected they wouldn't have waited so long. They had lost the element of surprise. That brief look she swore she saw, that made her remain wary. "What do you know about that Wal-Mart up ahead?"

  "That place?" Dodge jammed a thumb over his shoulder. "It's been gutted. Then, not long ago, I watched from my shelter here a group lure a small pack of zombies in there and bar the doors. I wouldn't go in there miss. I wouldn't go beyond there either. There ain't nothing in this town anymore. Not that there was much before." He laughed at his little joke. "I'd move on myself, but... I am the Mayor." Dodge cackled, which sounded hoarse and turned into a hacking cough.

  Hannah decided the man was no threat. Didn't mean she trusted him yet. She questioned if she even saw something earlier, or if it was paranoia rising inside of her. She was nervous about swinging too far the other way, into selfishness and fear, after her experiences. If the man tried to start something, her and JT could handle it. He'd be stupid to even try, outnumbered and outgunned as he was. That's if he would even take her up on an offer.

  "How do you feel about coming with us, Mayor?" Hannah gestured to the truck. "You can get in the back, warm up, and we can talk more about the area. Tell us what you've heard. We're looking for something around here. Something precious to us. Maybe you can help."

  JT was beside her in an instant. He whispered into her ear. "You sure that's a good idea, hon? We know zip about this guy."

  "I don't trust him yet. I trust you though. You wouldn't let him hurt me," Hannah replied in a hush.

  "Well getting warm sure sounds nice, I don't mind if I do if you and your mister will have me." Dodge said through a grin.

  THUNDERDOME

  Killian Cash watched the new group get herded off, not amused in the slightest. His instincts told him they would be trouble. It might take extra work to break them, work that might not be worth it. He'd visit them in the holding area after they've had a few hours to stew.

  He waited for them to be out of sight, swallowed up by his followers, before he rose from his chair. Behind the chair was a big bucket of water. He sloshed the sledgehammer into the water, took it out, and shook it until all the filth was gone. He toweled the head off. When he finished, the steel gleamed like new.

  He walked back out to the edge of the stage. With loving care he put the hammer down, handle pointed up, hands resting on the top of the shaft. He looked out across the hangar.

  His people were having a good time. The crowd in the middle of the hangar danced to the loud rock music. Against one wall people sat or laid across a set of couches and reclining chairs, drinking, smoking or fucking. Nearby were two pool tables. On the wall were numerous dart boards. At the far end there was a makeshift wall. In front of it was a big round cage, like an oversized bronze bird cage. Inside of that were two zombies, one a skinny man, the other a fat lady. The two threw themselves around in a frenzy, surrounded as they were by all the noise. On occasion someone nearby would pick up one
of the pointed sticks or swords near the cage and jab at the zombies, laughing at the reaction.

  Behind the wall were the rows of bunk beds they all slept in, when they slept at all. The place was like a biker rally and some bizarre circus, one that never ended. That was how he liked it. The people he ruled did too.

  All lived distracted in their vices, in the ease of their new lives, that they did as he said and didn't mess with him. If anyone tried, they had to go through Emilio first, then the sledge.

  He was eager for Emilio's return. He didn't like that the man was out there on his own, doing who knows what. He was one of Cash's first recruits and would be hard to replace if lost. If Emilio died, that would be the death sentence for the group that arrived tonight.

  Rowdier, more raucous shouting and yelling reached him over the general cacophony. Killian turned his attention to what was happening.

  Two men were brawling, a couple of women circled around them. Through the din and the smoke Killian couldn't make out for sure, but it looked like each had drawn a blade. The two made stabbing motions at each other. This continued for a few minutes. With a sudden flash, the smaller of the two men kicked out, planting a foot solid in the bigger man's chest. He then did a spin which put him behind his opponent. He jabbed, and the crowd oohed. The little man jerked the other man's head back by his long, greasy black hair. He dragged him over to the zombie cage. With a shove, he face planted the stabbed man right into the bars. In a heartbeat, one of the zombies reached through the bars and clamped down on the man's nose.

  The volume of the crowd dropped a notch. Even the music turned down. Killian could hear the man's cries for help clear as if he stood next to him. One of Killian's guards, who patrolled the inside walls of the hangar building, burst out of the crowd. With a jerk of annoyance, he took the little man's blade out of his hands, and sunk it to the hilt into the base of the other man's neck. The guard yanked the quick lived zombie off the cage by the back of his jacket and dragged it away across the floor. The noise level of the crowd climbed back to where it had been. Killian smiled. The strongest had won to live and fight another day. How he liked his new world.

  All the way across the huge building were switchback stairs built against the wall that led up to what used to be an office. It was now Killian's apartment. After a few more minutes of watching, that was his destination.

  Killian exited the stage and clomped across the concrete floor. Each person he crossed paths with deferred to him in either reverence or fear. He didn't care which, the only thing that mattered to him was that they remember who was in charge. After his demonstration tonight, they wouldn't need a reminder for a while.

  Killian climbed the rust red metal staircase, sledgehammer resting on his right shoulder. He reached the top only a little out of breath. He was getting sloppy and soft. He couldn't afford to be. He needed to get back out there, fighting the zombies, and soon. Besides, he missed the battlefield.

  He shrugged off his leather jacket and let it fall to the brown carpeted floor. The walls were corrugated metal, naked of decoration. There was a king size bed against the far wall, draped in black, three pillows scattered on it to match. The only other piece of furniture was an oversized leather recliner, also in black. There was only one door besides the one he came in, which lead to a half bathroom. The only window was the one that looked out to the hangar which always had grungy, half yellowed blinds drawn.

  Drilled into the wall by the door was a holder for his sledgehammer, its red the only splash of color in the room. Killian hung his hammer up, crossed to his chair, and flopped down in it. He jammed the footrest up and kicked off his black boots.

  He sat and pondered what to do about the new prisoners. Without Emilio here to tell him the whole story, he decided he'd have to go down and talk to them tomorrow himself. Before he did that though, he needed to relax. He yanked on a chain that ran from an attachment on the floor into the bathroom.

  A woman skittered out of the bathroom after Killian yanked again. She hunched over so much she almost walked on all fours. Dirty, grimy hair hung in her face, obscuring her features. She wore a dirty, ripped up mini dress, one that was supposed to be sexy.

  "Come over here, Sherry. Don't make me ask again. I need to relax and if I have to yank that chain again, I'll be very angry instead."

  CHEESEPUFF

  Gus never thought this would've happened in a million years. That he would feel relieved getting thrown into what was essentially a cell. That's what came over him when the group left through shit brown double doors and were led down a hallway. Ahead of them were another set of double doors and one branching path to the left.

  The guards herded them left and the concrete hallway slanted down. The overhead lights weren't on, but here and there lanterns sat in intervals on the floor. The descent was a gentle slope. Soon they came to a familiar-looking chain link door, except this one was double wide.

  Beyond it a few people milled around, or laid languid on dirty mattresses. None of them so much as stirred as the door, which had double padlocks, opened and they shoved each of them in.

  "What are we supposed to do about more water, and food?" Linda asked, turning after she stumbled to a stop.

  "Figure it out," one of the guards said, then laughed like he had just told the funniest joke on Earth.

  Gus could tell Linda was on the edge of bursting. He walked over to her and put one arm around her shoulders. She tensed even more, which he wouldn't have thought possible. The guard that spoke stood outside the door. His gun he holstered and now a baton sat in his hand, as if waiting for Linda to lip off again.

  "Now is not the time," Gus whispered to her. She relaxed only a fraction.

  The guard harrumphed to himself. He looked disappointed that a middle aged woman wasn't going to give him any more shit. After he checked the padlocks again, he left.

  Gus brought Linda in for a hug. "I really thought for a moment we weren't goin' to see each other again, darlin'." Linda melted into his arms, and a heavy sigh escaped her.

  The remaining townspeople clumped around the two of them. This ain't no peep show.

  Some broke down, the burden of the last few days overwhelming them. Childs left the group first, stomping off into the far corner, hands jammed in the pockets of the slacks he wore. The strangers he passed on the way didn't even give him a second look.

  Gus felt a poke in his back. He knew who that would be.

  Gus broke his hug by opening up a space between him and Linda He didn't want to let go of her yet. "Linda, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine." Madison entered the gap between them. She looked spent, as if she could fall down on the floor and pass out at any second.

  Linda broke contact with Gus. She bent to one knee and brushed the matted hair out of Madison's eyes. "Hello, Madison. My name's Linda. I don't know if Gus has told you about me, but I'm a nurse."

  Madison shook her head the tiniest bit to show no, he hadn't. "That's okay. A lot has happened in the last few days. Are you okay? Any pains you need help with? You can point to them if you like."

  Gus hadn't told Linda what had happened to Madison's mom. When they would talk in private again was up in the air. He watched as Madison pointed to her heart. Some dust or something flew into his eyes. They got misty.

  "Is that so?" Linda asked oh so gentle. She used some training or some instinct, because she didn't press on. "I'm sorry, Madison. I have no medicine to take or bandage to give you for that. This is the only help I can provide."

  Linda smothered the kid in a hug. Madison fell limp, like a raggedy doll. Gus saw Madison's back heave up and down. He didn't hear her cry, figured she was too dehydrated for any more tears.

  The surrounding crowd broke apart. Some grumbled, some continued to sob, others still walked off in a gloom. Gus watched them go, at a loss of what, if anything, he should say or do. A few moments later Linda let go of Madison and stood up.

  "Gus, I have to tell you. That was the most difficult hol
ding my tongue I've ever done. The nerve of these..."

  "Jackwagons?" Gus offered.

  Linda slapped his arms. "Gus! There's a child present."

  "It's okay Linda, you should have heard her on the way here. Make a sailor blush. Isn't that right, cheesepuff?" Gus winked hard.

  Madison gave him a faint smile. Her voice cracked as she talked. "I thought I was sugarpuff?"

  "That's before I learned you're named Madison." She gave Gus a blank stare. "Get it, huh? Come on kid." Nothing but an empty stare. "Don't they teach you anything in school? Come on, Linda. You got it, right?"

  Linda smirked. "Yeah, I got it. Madison. Wisconsin. Cheese. Ha ha." She dropped her voice as she talked to Madison. "You must humor him. He's got jokes worse than even Dad jokes. Grandpa jokes. It's because he's an old man."

  Madison let out a feeble giggle. It was the happiest noise Gus got out of her since they'd met. "These are the jokes, kid. Better get use to them."

  "Stick by us, Madison. The jokes are bad, but we'll help you as best we can." Madison again offered her a faint smile and moved back over by Gus. Linda went serious. "The time to work on your comedy routine has to wait. What are we going to do, Gus? Any ideas?"

  "No. I've just been trying to make sure the two of us survived, one second at a time."

  "Are they really going to keep making us look for supplies for them?" Madison interjected, to the surprise of Gus. "That's mean and unfair. I just want to go back to Colorado. It's ugly here."

  "I agree with you one hundred percent, Madison. These people are ugly and so is this place."

  Gus took another eyefull of the joint. The other townspeople were claiming some empty mattresses. Those people who had already been in the big concrete block, he counted ten of them, didn't move or acknowledge those who had arrived still.