The Dead Series (Book 2): Dead Is All You Get Read online

  “Jim?” I said.

  The front doors opened and Jim showed himself. The tuxedo was gone—now he was dressed in a grey-green hospital gown and ankle socks. His unruly hair and days-old beard added to his generally unkempt appearance. He was three sheets to the wind and reeked of beer and vomit. This was my friend prior to the car accident. Drunkenly, he waved me inside. I didn’t want to follow him, but I did.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The layout of the lab was different than I remembered. The walls were made of Plexiglas. Naked bodies—perfect bodies—floated in them end to end as far as I could see, the skin dry and hairless, the muscles sinewy. Though they were motionless I could feel their strength. We continued on to the main lab where Doctor Royce was working, dressed in a fresh white lab coat and looking clean-shaven. I remembered shooting him in the face, but all I could see was a reddish-brown bullet hole above the bridge of his nose. He didn’t seem concerned.

  “Jim, where have you been?” he said. He sounded English, which made no sense to me. Now, he was Ash from the movie, Alien. I wanted to laugh.

  “Doctor Royce, I brought my friend, Dave. You’ll have to forgive him—he’s kind of slow. I tried explaining the situation and he doesn’t get it. Can you try?”

  “I’ll have a go. Take a seat, Dave.”

  He gestured. Familiar faces appeared from out of the shadows. Holly, Griffin, Warnick and many others came forward and lay on the ground, piled one on top of the other till they were the height of a low wall. Royce gazed lovingly at the bodies and turned to me. I didn’t know what he wanted me to do.

  “Sit down,” he said. Then to Jim, “You’re right—he’s an imbecile.”

  My cheeks burning, I sat on top of Springer. Blood seeped from the base as my weight settled. I was worried because Holly was below me. I didn’t think she could breathe.

  “It’s like this, Dave.”

  Royce launched into a technical diatribe I couldn’t follow. I put up with it mainly because I knew the dream itself was a manifestation of my own mind. As he spoke, his skin decayed. His speech became thick and he was starting to smell. I turned to Jim—his head wagged rhythmically in time to Royce’s technobabble. The scientist went on for what seemed like an eternity. I struggled to comprehend, but it was no use. And the more he spoke, the more he rotted. One of his shrunken eyes popped out of its socket and hung limply from the stalk.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t make it any plainer than that,” he said.

  “I didn’t understand a thing you said.”

  “See what I mean?” Jim said to Royce. Then to me, “Let me try again.” He came forward and stood very close to me. He smelled like smoke. I could feel myself being absorbed into him, as if he was taking me to whatever eternal damnation he was living in. “You already know how this ends, Dave. Do I need to spell it out?”

  “Humor me,” I said. “I’m an imbecile, remember?”

  “Everyone dies, my friend. Just like Guatemala.”

  We were standing on a grassy hill at the mayor’s house. It was nighttime. Somewhere in the distance I could hear the boys playing football, laughing as they chased each other. In the town below, fires raged and smoke billowed into the air. The human fire pits were back. The bodies. All those bodies. They were finished with Tres Marias. They would get rid of the evidence and start again somewhere else. They would kill the innocent along with the undead, erasing every trace of what had happened. And when it came time to explain—because someone always has to explain—they would say they’d eradicated the virus but that everyone had died.

  Just like Guatemala.

  “Bad dream?” Holly said when I woke.

  It was morning. Early blue light leaked through the curtains. Cold-sweating, I rubbed my eyes. My heart raced and I felt Jim’s presence, could still smell the smoke from the burning bodies. Had my friend come to me in a dream for reals? Or did my mind make everything up in order to put a neat bow on a mystery that could never be solved? No, wherever it had come from, it was real—I knew it. A warning. The worst was yet to come.

  “I need to get us out of here,” I said. Before Holly could answer, we heard the first screams. Greta went to the door and sat, alert. “Get the weapons.”

  Griffin sat up in bed. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re being attacked.”

  We dressed quickly, armed ourselves and waited near the door of our trailer. Greta was on her feet, ready to defend us. I pulled back the small curtain and peered out. Men and women ran in every direction—soldiers and civilians. It looked clear, so I flung the door open and went out, motioning for Holly and Griffin to stay behind me. Outside, the screams were louder. Through the chaos I saw draggers attacking—hundreds of them.

  “How did they get in?” Holly said.

  I gripped my handgun. “Someone must have let them in.”

  Across the way, I could see Warnick and Springer among a group of soldiers taking down draggers. We ran over and joined them, shooting as many as we could.

  “We need more weapons!” I said. “We have to get to the armory.”

  We saw our chance and raced towards the administration building. Behind it was a smaller storage building in which most of our weapons were kept. When we got there, Pederman was already unlocking the door. We ran in and secured the door again from the inside. We put on body armor and helmets, then grabbed AR-15s and shotguns. I recognized a bullpup similar to the one Guthrie had given me the first time we met, and took it along with plenty of ammo.

  “What happened?” I said.

  Pederman shook his head. “Somebody killed the sentries.”

  Someone banged on the door. Springer ran over. “Who is it?”

  “Erzen and Fabian,” the voice said.

  Springer opened the door and, letting the two slip through, locked it again. “Either of you bit?”

  Erzen glared at him. “We’re fine.”

  When Griffin saw Fabian, she ran to him. He held her tight.

  “How many have we lost?” I said to Pederman.

  “We’re evacuating as many as we can from the trailers and putting them in the gymnasium. Then we’ll lock it down. I don’t know how long they can hold out.”

  “This is not happening again,” I said.

  Warnick and I knew the likely outcome. The last time the gym had been used as an evac center, everyone inside had been lost to draggers when the campus was overrun. “Are some of our guys locked in there with them?” he said.

  Pederman nodded. “About twenty or so.”

  “We need to get out there,” Springer said.

  Pederman turned to Holly. “You don’t even have to ask,” she said.

  I didn’t want her out there, but I knew it was pointless arguing. God, protect her, I prayed.

  “And you,” Pederman said, smiling faintly at Griffin and Fabian. “You’re not interns anymore. We have to fight to survive. Every one of us.”

  Springer grabbed more body armor and a helmet and handed it to Fabian. I saw the look of terror in his eyes, and I remembered how he’d frozen up the last time. He was as good as dead. Griffin squeezed his hand.

  “Come on,” she said, helping him suit up. “You’re not gonna let a girl outgun you, are you?”

  “Mierda,” he said and slung his AR-15 over his shoulder. “I’m ready.”

  Outside was madness. Pederman gave the signal and we exited the building. As expected, some soldiers and a number of civilians had turned. We fanned out to take care of as many as we could. If we found civilians who hadn’t been bitten, the plan was to take them to the administration building. We couldn’t risk opening the gym and potentially compromising the others.

  “Let’s team up, people!” Pederman said.

  As we moved forward, assessing and taking out what we could, I thought of Steve and Nina Zimmer and their baby. Had they made it safely to the gym? The draggers attacking us were part of a horde that seemed to grow. Fro
m their lumbering movements I knew they were not the “cutters” who could use tools to dismember you. I never thought I would find this comforting. The good news was they were easier to kill.

  They came from every direction. I tried to keep an eye on Holly, but things were moving too fast. In my heart I knew she was capable and could take care of herself. I spotted Griffin and Fabian nearby. As more draggers approached she shot two through the head. Fabian aimed his AR-15. I’d seen him fire the weapon in the shooting range, and he was good. This was all about fear.

  Griffin said something I couldn’t hear. Suddenly angry, he fired a stream of bullets that took down the remaining draggers. They sank in a line, as if their movements were choreographed.

  “Nice work,” I said as Fabian lowered his weapon. “Ready?”

  “Yeah.” He marched off to find more draggers.

  I squinted at Griffin. “What did you say to him?”

  “I told him to get his fat Mexican ass in gear.”

  “Nice.”

  “I only did it to make him mad.”

  “Well, it worked.” I tapped her helmet and signaled for her go after Fabian.

  Once we made it to the ATVs, it was easier to get around. Holly and I rode in a four-seater. Many of our people had been bitten and we’d had to put them down. The few of us remaining rode quickly between buildings, trailers and vehicles, searching for either survivors or draggers. As we approached one of the MMUs, I heard someone yelling for help. I pulled up to the front. Holly and I jumped out, ran up the steps and flung the door open. Inside we found a physician’s assistant and a phlebotomist huddled towards the rear.

  “Let’s go,” I said. Reluctantly, they followed. “Jump in the back.” We rode quickly to the administration building. A few soldiers guarded the front entrance. I signaled for our grateful passengers to get inside.

  By ten, we had eliminated the intruders and their reanimated victims. Fortunately, the Zimmers were safe. We sat on the steps of the administration building, surveying the damage. The compound was a landscape of blood and bodies. We’d lost a platoon—nearly a hundred men and women—and twenty-to-thirty civilians. Already, some of our soldiers were loading up flatbed trucks to deliver the bodies to the incinerators. Fortunately, those inside the gym and administration building had survived.

  Fabian had proved himself after all. Griffin sat next to him on a lower step, resting her head on his shoulder. Warnick and Springer sat next to Holly and me. As we squinted in the late morning sun, Pederman approached, his head down. I knew more bad news was coming.

  “We lost Erzen,” he said.

  Holly got to her feet. “What? How?”

  “Last time I saw her she was evacuating civilians from a trailer. We found her on the football field.”

  Pederman led us to the body. Two soldiers were lowering it from where it had been lashed to the chain link fence. From the look of the remains, Erzen had been flayed alive and eaten, her face frozen in a rictus of terror. Just like Steve Zimmer’s friend Kevin. Neither Griffin or Fabian could bear to look at her.

  “This was planned,” I said. “They wanted as many dead as possible.”

  “What?” Holly said. “Why?”

  “They’re cleansing the town. That means it’s almost over.” I got up, grabbed my bullpup, and headed off.

  “Pulaski, where are you going?” Pederman said.

  “To put a stop to this.”

  THEY TALKED ME OFF the ledge. For the moment. While squads of soldiers continued the cleanup outside, our core team—minus Erzen—met in the big conference room in the administration building. It was early afternoon. The reek of blood and bodies and vomit hung thick in the air—even inside this air-conditioned building. Or maybe the smell was all in my head.

  I was sick with anger thinking about our comrade, Erzen. How she’d done everything to protect Griffin when we needed her. And how she’d been flayed by a creature or creatures without conscience but with an intense purpose.

  “How much more proof do you need?” I said to Pederman.

  He was a good man. Over these past weeks, I had come to understand that. He had tried to run a crisp operation by the book, but he was working against forces that no one, it seemed, could control. Hellish forces that had been put in motion years earlier. And whatever it was—the military or a covert government agency or Lucifer himself—it would not be stopped. And the goal? What was it Creasy called it? “The Holy Grail.” Funny thing for the devil to be searching for.

  “Dave, I know you don’t think much of me.”

  “That’s not true,” Holly said.

  I did my best to remain calm. “What I think is, we can’t follow the rules anymore. No one else is. And now, we have more dead soldiers and civilians.”

  “What did you mean when you said they’re ‘cleansing the town’?” Warnick said.

  “I mean, they’re getting rid of the evidence. And that means you, me and everyone in this place who is a living, breathing human.”

  “And the draggers?” Springer said.

  “Them too.”

  “So what do you suggest we do?” Griffin said. She had never spoken up in any of our meetings before—I was a little surprised. All eyes were on her. Her cheeks blazing, she pushed ahead. “If what Dave says is right, we can’t stay here. Or we’re dead too.”

  “Unless we take back control,” I said.

  “But the mayor put the police in charge,” Holly said.

  “So let’s arrest the mayor.”

  “Are you trying to being funny?” Warnick said.

  “No.”

  “We don’t have the authority to arrest him,” Warnick said.

  Multiple conversations broke out. Pederman had lost control of the meeting. As the noise level rose, he got to his feet and stood at attention. “Silence!” Now, I knew what they meant by a “command voice.” The room was quiet. Springer suppressed a giggle. “Our mission is to protect the citizens of this town,” Pederman said. “But that also means protecting our own people. I’ve been studying our contract with the city. It states that the agreement can be terminated if any of our people engages in ‘willful or malicious injury to person or property.’”

  “If you’re talking about the security checkpoint—”

  “Dave, I’m not finished.” I wasn’t sure whether I liked or hated the new Pederman. “Look, I’m no lawyer, but I believe that if the mayor or any other city official prevents us from carrying out our mission, we have the right to arrest them.”

  Springer went ballistic. “So why didn’t we throw them in jail a long time ago?”

  Pederman kept his cool. “Because we needed substantial evidence.”

  “Can we prove they were behind the attack?” Warnick said.

  “We don’t have to.” Pederman waited for that to sink in. “In taking away our authority, the mayor put the responsibility of protecting civilians—and us—on the police. Clearly, these individuals didn’t carry out their duty. They were negligent. Therefore, the mayor is in breach of the contract.”

  “And that means …” Springer said.

  “All authority over this town reverts back to us.”

  “Anyone know a good lawyer?” Holly said.

  The next morning two squads headed out in Humvees and an LMTV with a flatbed. We wore body armor and helmets, and were heavily armed. I tried to imagine what it must have been like for these other soldiers, many of whom had been deployed to warzones in provinces like Kandahar. Of course, Tres Marias was nothing like that place, but things here were getting pretty dicey.

  Our plan was ambitious. We would arrest the local police force, then go after the mayor and deputy mayor. Always the joker, Springer reminded us not to forget about Walt Freeman’s assistant, Becky.

  “I might need to frisk her later,” he said.

  Holly punched him hard in the shoulder. “You’re disgusting.”

  When we arrived at the police station, it was clear they weren’t expecting us. Pederm
an ordered Griffin and Fabian to remain outside. Like a scene from a movie, we climbed out of our vehicles, marched up the steps and entered, pointing our AR-15s. No one was at the front desk. We walked past it into the front office, where we found cops sitting at desks or standing and talking. When they saw us, the room went silent. A second later, the men’s room door creaked open and Hannity walked out, still drying his hands.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said.

  Pederman stepped forward and took in the room. “Arresting you.”

  Looking to the others for confirmation, Hannity let out a forced laugh. “You dumb sons of bitches can’t arrest us. Captain O’Brien is in charge. If anything, we have the right to arrest you.”

  One of the other cops drew his weapon and fired, missing Pederman by a hair. Warnick reacted, shooting him in the chest. Grunting, he fell dead. As Hannity reached for his own weapon, Springer stepped into spitting distance of him and pointed his handgun at the cop’s head.

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Pederman said. “These men are highly trained combatants and will, without hesitation, drop you like last week’s girlfriend.”

  It was official—I was in love with the new Pederman. He instructed the police officers to lay down their weapons and line up. One of the squads swept through the building and around the outside perimeter, searching for other cops. The rest of us handcuffed the prisoners behind their backs using plastic ties and escorted them to the LMTV.

  “You’re crazy, Pederman,” Hannity said. “This will never work.”

  “I have faith. Get your ass up there.”

  Once the prisoners were loaded, the LMTV headed out with the other squad.

  “That can’t be all of them,” I said.

  Pederman lowered his weapon. “Don’t worry. We’ll get the others eventually.”

  Our squad, which included Griffin and Fabian, did a final check of the police station to ensure that no one was left behind. We confiscated the rest of the weapons so that no returning cops would be able to outgun us. When we were satisfied that the place was secure, we went next door to City Hall and did a sweep there. We found Becky in her office. Facing a group of soldiers with guns put a look of terror on her face.