Dead America - El Paso Pt. 5 (Dead America - The Third Week Book 2)

by Derek Slaton

  “Don’t you worry about it, Rodriguez,” Hammond assured him. “You do what you gotta do, and we’ll handle our business. Any help you can give us will be greatly appreciated, though.”

  Leon leaned back in his chair. “Still begs the question though, how do we drive Tiago to the safe room?”

  “Would it be possible to get one of your men to initiate a false alarm?” Rogers asked.

  Rodriguez shook his head. “Not without sacrificing the man,” he replied. “I’ve seen what they do to traitors, and I would never ask anyone to subject themselves to that.”

  “Is there any other room he stays in where we can get a shot?” Leon asked.

  Rodriguez pointed to the screen. “The only building with a direct line of sight to his office is the hotel across the street,” he said. “But it’s where the men are housed when they aren’t on duty.”

  “So that’s a no, then,” Leon replied with a sigh.

  Reed stepped forward. “What about zombies?” he asked, and the room fell silent. “What would happen if a runner got loose in City Hall?”

  Rodriguez thought for a moment. “Without a doubt, that would force him into the safe room,” he agreed. “But I question how this would be achieved.”

  The younger man stood up and lifted his shirt, revealing his wound. “It gets achieved because you will take me there.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Rodriguez’ brow furrowed in confusion, until Reed pulled down his bandages to reveal his infected bite mark.

  Trenton clenched his fists. “Man, you don’t have to-”

  “Unless someone has a better idea,” Reed cut in, replacing his bandages and shirt, “this is the only way. Now the question is, can you get me in?”

  Rodriguez began to pace again, the wheels turning in his head. “The only way it would be possible is if you committed an unpardonable sin against the Cartel,” he mused. “Something so heinous that Tiago would want to deal with you personally. Anything less than that, and Angel would just shoot you and move on.”

  Clara’s hand shot into the air so high that she stood up from her seat. “What about a dead Cartel member? Would that do the trick?”

  “Yes,” Rodriguez said slowly and raised an eyebrow. “However, I get the sense I would have a problem finding a volunteer for that one.”

  Clara waved her hands back and forth in front of her face. “No, no, you wouldn’t have to find anyone,” she said. “All I have to do is go down to Marfa and borrow one of their bodies.”

  “There are dead Cartel members in Marfa?” Rodriguez asked.

  She nodded. “Yeah, long story short is that they came in from the east and started causing trouble at the beginning of all this,” she explained, the words tumbling out quickly. “The locals didn’t take too kindly to it, so they crucified them.”

  There was a short silence as everyone processed her words.

  “Goddamn,” Landry finally said, “these West Texas boys don’t fuck around.”

  Trenton held up his hands. “Clara, that’s going to be dangerous,” he said. “Didn’t you say they’d shoot you if you came back?”

  “It’s a chance we’re going to have to take,” she replied firmly.

  “I fear as though she’s right,” Rodriguez agreed. “Reed presenting that body might be the only way to get him into position.” He turned to the younger man, expression hard. “You need to understand what is going to happen when you come out with the body. Angel will go ballistic, but I will step up.” He pulled out a large hunting knife from his belt. “However, I’m going to have to stab you in the gut with this blade.”

  Reed glanced at the knife and then looked back at the man, jutting out his chin. “If this is the only way, then it’s the only way.”

  “Why the hell do you have to stab him for?” Trenton demanded shrilly.

  “Because it’ll mask the bite,” Reed answered, as if it were obvious. “All anyone will see is the knife wound, so it’ll allow me to get inside.”

  Rodriguez shook his head and took a deep breath. “I admire your courage,” he admitted. “If I had your conviction at that age, my life may have gone very, very differently.”

  “I appreciate that,” Reed replied.

  “I do have a question, however,” the older man continued. “How do you plan to turn?”

  The younger man shrugged. “I figure between you, Leon, the military boys here and the nurse, one of you must know of a way to come up with a poison pill I can bite into at the right moment.”

  Everyone shared nervous glances, and Leon finally sat forward.

  “Yeah, I know something that’ll do the trick,” he said reluctantly. “But it’s not going to be pleasant.”

  Reed shrugged as he sat back down in his chair with a hiss. “Neither is getting stabbed in the gut, but here we are.”

  Rodriguez patted him on the shoulder, and then turned towards the sniper. “I’m sorry, I never got your name.”

  “It’s Mathis, sir,” the young man replied.

  “Mathis,” Rodriguez repeated, “may I ask what weapon you are using?”

  The sniper nodded. “Standard issue M24.”

  “Is that a 7.62 round?” the older man asked.

  Mathis nodded again. “Yes.”

  “This is no good,” Rodriguez replied.

  “It’s accurate at over a thousand yards,” Mathis replied, voice almost petulant. “If I’m in position, I can hit him.”

  Rodriguez put up his hand, palm out. “Of that I have no doubt,” he said. “Unfortunately, his safe room is protected.”

  “Protected how?” Rogers asked.

  “He insisted on being able to see the outside in the event of an emergency,” Rodriguez explained. “As there is a lack of reliable power, he opted for blast-proof reinforced glass to be installed rather than cameras.”

  Mathis slumped in his chair.

  The Detective crossed his arms. “I’m going to go out on a limb and assume you don’t have the firepower to break through it?” he asked.

  “Maybe if I had three shots in a row that all hit the exact same point,” the sniper replied.

  Leon and Hammond glanced at each other, and then both said “The armory,” at the same time.

  “Fort Bliss?” Rodriguez asked.

  “Yep, Fort Bliss,” Leon replied. “Unless your boys were able to get to it, there should be some fifty cals in there.”

  Hammond clapped his sniper on the shoulder. “What do you think Private, a fifty cal get through that glass?”

  “Hell Sarge,” Mathis replied, eyes lighting up, “with a fifty cal I could just shoot through the concrete wall.”

  “If your military left them there, then they’ll still be there,” Rodriguez said.

  Rogers raised an eyebrow. “Tiago didn’t even try to get in there?”

  “Oh he tried,” the other man replied with a smirk, “as soon as we took over. But he abandoned it after losing a squad of his best men.”

  Leon pursed his lips. “Doesn’t sound like him to just up and quit a project like that.”

  “Well...” Rodriguez drew out the word. “I may have told him that my personal team found that the military took everything when they abandoned it.”

  Rogers nodded knowingly. “A little fibbing never hurt anybody, am I right?”

  Private Whitaker checked her gun, and she and Landry stood up with Hammond.

  “What are you doing?” Rodriguez cocked his head.

  The Sergeant jammed his thumb over his shoulder. “Getting ready to go that fifty cal.”

  “Not with those you aren’t,” Rodriguez shot back, pointing to the giant rifle on Whitaker’s shoulder.

  Landry threw up a hand. “The fuck you talking about we’re not using these?”

  Rogers put a hand out to stop Rodriguez, taking a step forward. “Because the last thing we’re going to want is the Cartel to hear gunshots and finding us at the base.”

  Landry scowled, but then pressed his lips into a th
in line as he accepted the Detective was right. “God motherfucking dammit.” He pouted. “Can I just have one day where this shit is easy?”

  “Don’t worry about him,” Whitaker piped up. “He’ll be fine.”

  Rodriguez sized her up. “Do you have hand to hand weapons?”

  “Yep,” she replied, twirling a little league baseball bat around her fingers. “Looks like we’re going to have to Louisville Slugger our way through them.”

  He nodded. “Just be aware that patrols go by there regularly,” he warned. “Every fifteen to twenty minutes. Your best bet is going to be getting in on the north side via the airport.”

  “Thanks for the intel,” Hammond replied.

  Rodriguez checked his watch. “I have to be getting back,” he said. “We won’t be able to communicate until after the operation. When you strike the checkpoint, I recommend the main one on I-10. The attack should force them to bring in reinforcements who will come in from the north. There is a checkpoint about ten blocks up, which will be your best bet to get across Mathis. Everything else, we’ll have to improvise.”

  The Sergeant grinned. “That’s what we do best.”

  “Good luck,” Rodriguez replied, giving a nod of respect. “I hope to see you all on the other side of this still standing.” He glanced around and then left the room.

  The door shut behind him, leaving everyone in stillness.

  Rogers finally clapped his hands together, breaking the silence. “Well, let’s get this show on the road,” he said brightly. “That fifty cal isn’t going to liberate itself.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Leon demanded. “Rodriguez said you couldn’t leave town.”

  The Detective wagged his finger at his friend. “No, he said I couldn’t go to town. Never said I couldn’t go to the base.”

  “I don’t think he’d approve,” Hammond put in, and grabbed Whitaker’s bat, giving it a little practice swing. “But then again, he’s not the one about to race into a horde of zombies armed with a little league bat.”

  Mathis shrugged. “The five of us should be able to get in and out without any issues.”

  “Sorry Private,” Hammond said, shaking his head, “but you’re staying here.”

  The sniper blinked at him. “What?”

  “He’s right, young man,” Leon cut in. “If something happens to you in there, then I’m the one who’s going to have to take the shot, and frankly I’ve gotten used to my cushy office job. Besides, it’ll give us time to plot out your course.”

  Mathis stared longingly at his team, and then nodded, sitting back down.

  “If you handle the base, I’ll go with Clara to Marfa,” Trenton said, raising his hand.

  She shook her head. “You can help them, I’ll be fine.”

  “They said they’d shoot you if you ever came back,” he said, brow furrowing. “No way in hell you’re going without backup. Now come on, let’s roll.” He walked straight out the door, leaving no room for argument.

  Clara stared after him, and then shrugged, addressing the room. “Well, I guess the two of us are headed to Marfa.” She headed out, and the rest filed after her, leaving Reed and Mathis alone with Leon.

  “Hey Reed,” Leon said, motioning for him to come over from his corner. “Why don’t you come help us plan the assault?”

  The younger man chewed his lip awkwardly. “Not sure how much help I’d be.”

  “Sure you will, man,” Mathis replied, waving to him. “You lived in El Paso, right?”

  Reed nodded. “Yeah, that’s right.”

  “You’re gonna know stuff we won’t,” the sniper assured him. “Never know what might come in handy.”

  Reed nodded, and got up, taking a seat closer to the duo. As they settled in, Ethel headed over to collect up all the empty mugs.

  “Would you boys care for more coffee?” she asked sweetly.

  Leon flashed her an award-winning smile. “You know I can never say no to you, Ethel.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Trenton and Clara wheeled out their motorcycles, rolling them over to the soldiers.

  “How is the fuel situation looking?” Rogers asked.

  Trenton checked his gauge, and then pulled out the gas can from the side compartment, jiggling it. “Looks like we need to make a run by the gas station before heading out.”

  “Might as well use the high test, no sense in saving it,” the Detective suggested. “Pretty sure the generators aren’t going to notice the difference.”

  Trenton chuckled darkly. “Only took until the apocalypse to be able to afford the good stuff.”

  “Just watch yourself when you’re filling up,” Rogers warned. “Leon did a satellite sweep earlier, and there are still some stragglers.”

  The younger man nodded. “We’ll be careful.”

  “Come on, we should get moving,” Clara urged. “It’s a bit of a haul to Marfa.”

  Rogers clapped Trenton on the shoulder. “You heard the lady.”

  The duo hopped onto their bikes, starting them up and chugging away towards the gas station.

  The Detective watched them go for a moment, and then turned back to the trio of military warriors. The Sergeant and Whitaker were double-checking their gear, optimizing hand weapons to make sure all were easily accessible.

  Landry leaned over and touched his toes, grabbing the backs of his calves and letting out a deep groan at the stretch.

  “You okay there, bud?” Rogers asked, raising an eyebrow.

  The Private straightened up and then stretched his one arm back behind his head, switching to do the other. “Gonna be bashing in a lot of heads today, I want to make sure I’m limbered up.”

  The Detective watched with mild amusement at the elaborate stretching routine, and then shook his head, turning towards the other two. “How are we looking over here?”

  “Melee weapons at the ready,” Whitaker replied.

  Hammond motioned to his handgun holster. “And sidearms for those close encounters on the inside.”

  “Not carrying your rifles?” Rogers asked.

  Whitaker shook her head. “That armory is chock full of destructive goodness, so we’re going to want to carry as much back as we possibly can.”

  “And if we get in a fire fight, it just means we’ll have to loot the dead of their weapons,” Hammond added.

  The Detective rubbed his forehead. “So just another day at the office.”

  “Damn straight, Detective.” The Sergeant grinned.

  Landry stood up, bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Okay, so how are we playing this?”

  Rogers pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, unfolding it to reveal a crudely drawn map.

  “Good to see you take after Leon in the artistic department,” Whitaker teased.

  Rogers shrugged. “Simple but effective.”

  “Hey Landry, isn’t that how you advertise your sexual prowess?” Whitaker cocked her head.

  Hammond snorted. “If so, then he’s lying about half of that.”

  The group shared a laugh at Landry’s expense, and he just shrugged, grinning along with the rest. Rogers put the map down and spread it out on the hood of the truck, and they clustered around him. He traced his finger along the pencil marks as he spoke.

  “Okay, so we’re going to have to take the long way around to get to the airport and approach it from the northwest,” he began. “There’s a lot of desert out there, so it’s unlikely they’ll be patrolling that. Once we get there, we can work our way down on foot to the edge of the base. From there, it will be up to you to get us there.”

  Hammond leaned in closer, and then pulled out a pen, flipping the paper over to draw on the blank side. “Once we get past the fence, we’re going to want to haul ass to a line of warehouses that are here,” he said as he drew. “From there, it’s a hell of a run to get to the armory that’s on the other side of the base. This place is like a small fucking town, so there’s going to be shit everywhere.
”

  “How do we get access to the armory?” Rogers asked.

  The Sergeant reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a keycard. “The system is on a battery backup, and my clearance should still be good. Can’t imagine anyone took the time to wipe out the database.”

  “All right, we got us a plan,” the Detective replied, standing up straight. He picked up the map and folded it back up, returning it to his pocket. “Let’s get rolling.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Rogers parked the truck behind the furthest building on the infield of the airport, a small metal hangar. The foursome got out of the vehicle and took a moment to gather themselves and check their weapons.

  “What, Landry, you not going to grace us with more of your Jazzercise?” Whitaker asked.

  He grinned and shook his head. “Sorry ladies, only one show a day.”

  “So what time is tomorrow’s show?” the Detective asked, cocking his head. “I want to make sure I’m busy.”

  Landry stretched his arms above his head. “Just for that, it’ll be a surprise performance.”

  Hammond crept to the corner of the building and peered around it.

  “How are we looking?” Rogers asked, coming up behind him.

  The Sergeant shook his head and leaned back. “Minimal resistance, at least as far as I can tell,” he said. “It’s a pretty good haul though, to get to the base fence. Maybe half a mile.”

  “Any sign of a patrol?” the Detective asked.

  Hammond shook his head. “Not yet, but we should assume they’re always right around the corner.”

  “So what do you think?” Rogers motioned to him.

  The Sergeant raised his chin. “Move up building by building,” he replied. “If we move at a good clip, our exposure should only be about twenty seconds out in the open.”

  “Good thing Landry already stretched,” the Detective teased.

  Hammond rolled his eyes. “That’s nothing,” he drawled. “Man, I could tell you some stories.”

  “I’d really prefer if you didn’t.” Rogers laughed.