The Dead Series (Book 2): Dead Is All You Get Page 3

I couldn’t help myself—I laughed, which seemed to annoy Pederman. “I’m sorry, it’s just that … This is unexpected.”

  “I understand. It’s a big step. Why don’t you think about it? No hurry.”

  He got up stiffly and led us out of the office. His manner was decidedly cooler—possibly resentful. He’d put real money on the table and I’d crapped all over it. Nevertheless, he shook hands—a real pro.

  “I’ve already set up quarters for you and the girl.”

  “What about Evie?” I said.

  “The reporter?”

  “She’s also part of our group.”

  “I like your loyalty, Dave. I’ll see what I can do.”

  When we reentered the conference room, Springer and another largish young Latino soldier were attempting to teach Griffin how to play Texas hold ’em. From what I could see, Griffin wasn’t even trying to be funny, but these guys couldn’t stop laughing. Warnick sat alone, reading his bible. It was a comforting sight.

  Holly turned to me, half-smiling. “I think you pissed him off.”

  “I seem to have that effect on people.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and joined the game.

  They’d set up a series of trailers across the campus to accommodate the managers as well as the medical staff. Holly, Griffin and I were given our own trailer. We’d been expecting to be placed in a converted classroom.

  “Who’s paying for all this?” I said. “The city?”

  Holly began exploring. “This is incredible! And look, they even stocked the refrigerator.”

  “Shower time!” Griffin said.

  “Not if I get there first.” They raced to the bathroom, but Griffin had the advantage with her long legs.

  “Oh, sorry,” she said. “But you lose!”

  While Griffin showered, Holly and I brought in our few belongings and stored them. For security, they’d confiscated our weapons but left me my axe. This was the instrument I’d relied on at the start of the outbreak. I’d taken it from my mother-in-law’s house. I’d destroyed Missy—as well as countless other draggers—with it. It had kept me alive.

  I found a narrow closet at the rear of the trailer and placed the axe inside towards the back. Then we opened our test results. The computer printout showed that my white cell count was normal, I didn’t have high cholesterol, and I wasn’t currently at risk for prostate cancer. Good to know. When I asked Holly about hers, she slid the paper into the envelope and smiled in a strange way.

  “It’s normal,” she said. “Everything’s normal.”

  Later, Holly and I walked the grounds, feeling safer than we had in weeks. Soldiers patrolled everywhere. The fence surrounding the school was now reinforced. Occasionally an errant dragger would wander up and a soldier would dispatch it. We didn’t see what they did with the bodies, but there were no longer any open pits smoldering with human meat.

  Warnick and Springer returned to the Arkon building, our former command center, to coordinate the evacuation of the civilians. There was talk that Black Dragon had taken over a number of apartment buildings and was in the process of converting them to temporary living quarters. Like the school, these would be heavily guarded.

  “So do you see yourself wearing one of those uniforms?” I said.

  “I don’t know. It isn’t like we’re new to this kind of work.” Holly seemed distant. “Besides, we don’t have jobs, remember? At some point, life will return to normal and we’ll have to join the rest of the unemployed.”

  “With a mortgage on a house that’s uninhabitable,” I said. “What about Staples?”

  “I don’t ever want to go back there again.”

  “Fine by me. And what about Griffin?”

  “She stays with us, no matter what.”

  “Agreed. But if we’re working for them, we can’t come and go as we please. What is she supposed to do all day?”

  “I don’t know, Dave. Go to school? Assuming the high school reopens.”

  I could hear the irritation in Holly’s voice. I knew she wasn’t mad at me. We were at a crossroads—no longer soldiers, but ordinary citizens without guns. And a girl to look after. I decided to change the subject.

  “We still need to find out what Evie knows,” I said. “How the outbreak started.”

  “Why? If they can stop it, what does it matter?”

  “I need to know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because of Jim. He’s a part of this—I know he is.”

  “You’d better talk to Warnick first,” she said. “I don’t wanna lose the chance to have a life again.”

  “Don’t let all this fool you, Holly,” I said. “It isn’t over.”

  My dead friend Jim stood at the gate ready to let me in as I approached. He looked good. Shaven, wearing fresh clothes and a new pair of Nikes like the ones I’d seen at Wal-Mart the time we rescued Nina and her baby from a horde of teenaged draggers. I wept as I took his hand, which was smooth and wound-free.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said.

  “Forget it, dude. Not your fault.”

  “How have you been?”

  “Can’t complain. Hey, I want to show you something.”

  As he opened the gate, I noticed the reddish gash that ringed his neck. I swooned, suddenly feeling the impact of the car crash that had sent my friend through the windshield and into the night where I lost him forever. Now, I was on that dark forest road again.

  “Jim! Come on, man, this isn’t funny.”

  Something moved in the distance. I struggled after it. It was my friend. “Hurry up, lard ass!” he said, waving. He seemed impossibly far away. I struggled to catch up, but my leg hurt bad from when Travis beat me.

  He led me to his dog, Perro. The beast lay in the road, hardly breathing. Steam rose off his body like a red mist. He was smaller than I remembered him. Emaciated. Harmless.

  “They had no right to take him,” Jim said. “No right at all.”

  Jim was receding into the darkness, his dying dog in his arms. Perro was very small—the size of a puppy.

  My shoulder throbbed from when I was shot. “Jim, don’t go! You have to tell me what happened.”

  “No time,” he said. “Dream faster.”

  Then I was alone.

  WARNICK AND SPRINGER came back. Eager to hear how things had gone at the Arkon Building, we joined them as they headed towards the administration building.

  “So how are Nina and her baby?” I said.

  “Fine.” Warnick moved at a brisk pace and didn’t bother to look at me.

  “And the others?” Holly said.

  “All fine. We’re evacuating them in the morning.”

  “Warnick, slow down,” I said, grabbing his arm. “Hey, I need to know what’s going on.”

  “Dave, can’t talk now—I have a meeting.”

  “Dude, really? A meeting?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  He and Springer continued up the steps to the front entrance and sailed past the guard. I saw Pederman inside, standing in the foyer speaking to an aide.

  Holly, Griffin and I tried following but were turned away by the guard. Greta snapped at him before Holly could pull her away.

  “Sitz!” she said. As if someone had pulled a string, the dog sat. “Braves Mädchen.”

  “We’re still part of this team,” I said, looking past the guard and directly at Pederman. He avoided my gaze and continued his conversation as another soldier on the inside closed the door in our faces. I grabbed the door handle and pushed.

  “I’m sorry,” the inside guard said.

  “Warnick! What the hell?”

  Warnick glanced back, almost embarrassed. Springer wouldn’t even make eye contact. Incredulous, I watched as they followed Pederman to a conference room.

  “You need to leave,” the other soldier said.

  I felt like an ass. Furious, I stomped down the steps, kicked over a trash receptacle and marched over to our trailer. Holly, Griffin and the dog wisely followed at a safe dis
tance.

  “That son of a bitch!” I said, sinking onto our small sofa.

  “Dave—”

  “We helped save all those people. This is Pederman’s doing. What gives him the right to cut us out of the picture like we’re some kind of … of outsiders?”

  “Dave, you don’t get it.”

  “What don’t I get? This guy’s just another Black Dragon stooge.”

  “No, he’s not.”

  “And he got Warnick and Springer to turn against us.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “Why are you disagreeing with me?”

  “Listen. He’s sending a message.”

  “I’ve got a message for him,” I said, getting to my feet.

  “David Michael Pulaski, sit down or, so help me, I will remove a testicle!”

  I froze mid-stride and looked at Griffin, who wore an expression of polite sympathy, like you’d have for an animal who’d crapped on the carpet and was about to get laid into. Red-faced, I took a deep breath and sank onto a seat cushion.

  “I’ll wait outside,” Griffin said.

  “No, honey,” Holly said. “This concerns you too.” Griffin sat next to me, stroking Greta’s head as Holly paced like a head coach in a locker room before the big game.

  “Okay, so what am I missing?” I said.

  “Can’t you see? Pederman is forcing our hand. He offered us those positions, and he expects us to take them.”

  “What? But what does that have to do with—”

  “Dave, think about it. When we first spoke to him, he told us things were changing. Remember? ‘We’re back in charge.’ That’s what he said. And that means we’re just civilians.”

  “But—”

  “Look, who cares if we saved all those people? That’s ancient history. Unless we join Black Dragon, we’re out of it for good.”

  “Wait,” Griffin said. “They want to, like, hire you guys?”

  “We were planning on telling you, Griffin.”

  “And what happens to me?” I could hear the worry.

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Holly said, stroking the girl’s hair. “No matter what happens. I promise.”

  “So basically,” I said, “unless we sign up, he’s sending us out there to fend for ourselves. Like the rest of those rubes over in the gym.”

  “Pretty much.”

  I was still pissed off. I like your loyalty, Dave. Pederman had said that, too. What a load of crap. But what made me angrier was the fact that Holly had put it together so easily, when all I saw was betrayal. She’d always possessed a better mind than me, and once again I was getting schooled.

  “Let me ask you something,” I said. “How did you figure this out? I mean, I’m not exactly stupid.” I turned to Griffin for confirmation. She pretended to notice a flea on the dog’s ear.

  Holly knelt and rested her head on my knee. “Dave, don’t try to think like a woman. You’ll hurt yourself.”

  “Shit—I suck.”

  “It’s not your fault,” she said, getting up.

  “I’m an idiot.” She hugged me, probably out of pity.

  “No, you’re a guy.”

  So that was it. More evidence that women were smart and men were morons. Alert the media. I desperately needed a comeback, but I had nothing. So I changed the subject.

  “I need to talk to Warnick.”

  Holly shook her head. “I don’t think he can help you. Don’t forget, he works for them. I’m sure he has his orders.” I got up and headed for the door. “Where are you going?”

  “To find Evie.”

  “We’re coming with,” she said.

  We found Evie, notebook in hand, interviewing a physician’s assistant outside one of the MMUs. I almost didn’t recognize her. She wore clean clothes that were, in truth, not her style. They fit well enough, but were nothing like the tailored jackets and skirts she normally wore and resembled something off the rack at Target. Her makeup and hair, though neat, were different too. She could have passed for a Tres Marias homemaker.

  “We need to talk,” I said as we approached her.

  “Thanks for your time.” She shook the interviewee’s hand and waited as he headed into the MMU. Then to me, “Not here.”

  “There are Black Dragon people all over the place. Where can we go?”

  “I know a place,” Griffin said.

  We made our way along the main building and around the side, past the shed where we’d found Griffin being dragged away by her deranged, gangrenous stepfather. Like the rest of the school, the area was clean. The ground was swept and flowers planted along the pathway leading to the common area. I could still hear Griffin’s desperate screams in my head, and I had to look at her again to remind myself she was safe.

  She led us to a basement entrance at the rear of the building and trotted down the few concrete steps while the rest of us stood watch. The door was locked. She slammed her shoulder into it once, springing the door, and went in.

  “Griffin, how do you know this place?” Holly said as we followed.

  The girl’s voice was low and afraid. “It’s where Travis kept me prisoner.”

  “Who’s Travis?” Evie said.

  “Travis Golightly,” I said. “Her stepfather. He’s dead.”

  “Sounds to me like the girl caught a break.” Evie touched Griffin’s shoulder. “Listen to me, kid. For years my dad terrified my mother and … hurt me, which is why I left home at sixteen. It is what it is. All you can do is move on.”

  I wasn’t sure if Griffin needed to hear the raw, bitter truth coming from this veteran reporter. It made me uncomfortable. When I turned to Holly, I saw a rising anger. I wondered whether it came from Evie’s powerful words or from the truth of what happened to Griffin in here.

  Griffin nodded meekly. Maybe she’d found a kindred spirit—someone who knew firsthand what she’d been through, including the years of sexual abuse. “How … how did you get through it?” she said.

  “Like you.” Evie’s voice was softer now. She smiled at Holly and me, then took Griffin’s hand. “I was lucky enough to find good people who were genuinely interested in helping me. Not wanting anything in return other than my promise to better myself. They made all the difference in my life. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”

  “Thanks, Evie,” Griffin said.

  Weak light filtered in through the dirty basement windows like distant starlight, and I saw the hard expression on Evie’s face melt like snow, leaving the careworn lines of worry that come from the wrong kind of experience. She was an attractive woman—older in person—but one who had been damaged in so many ways over the years. It made sense to me that she was fearless, having suffered at the hands of whatever demon had possessed her father and destroyed her childhood. She was a dark survivor who had not only found a way to live but discovered in herself a way to make a real difference.

  As my eyes adjusted, I could make out dusty grey metal racks of junk—old homecoming dance decorations, pep rally banners and discarded furniture. Griffin froze, her body shuddering as if from the cold.

  “You okay?” Holly said.

  “Yeah. I need a minute.”

  A pair of bloodstained handcuffs—the kind the police use—hung from one of the metal racks. On the floor lay an overturned grey plastic bucket. A shudder ran through me as I imagined Griffin trapped here, at the mercy of a deranged sex offender, forced to pee in a pail. I thought about my own ordeal, held prisoner by the Red Militia and beaten mercilessly. But I was a grown man—I was capable of moving past it. How was a young girl supposed to come out of this living nightmare?

  Finally, with the grace of an angel, Griffin made her way to a sturdy metal table and chairs. Gently squeezing her hand, I took a seat with her and the others.

  “So, formal introductions,” I said to Evie. “I’m Dave Pulaski, and this is my wife Holly. And this is Griffin Sparrow.”

  “Well, you know me. Everybody knows me. I’m Evie Champagne, ‘star reporter
.’ As you can see, somewhat worse for the wear. Sorry about the clothes. I’ll speak to my producer.”

  “We saw you talking to that physician’s assistant,” I said. “I’m guessing you’ve tried interviewing everyone here.”

  “Yeah, the civilians don’t know anything and no one in Black Dragon is talking—including the medical staff. It’s radio silence.”

  “Speaking of which. Do you know what’s going on with the cell service?”

  “That is one helluva mystery, isn’t it?” she said. “No one can explain it, nor can they tell us why the land lines don’t work. I’m guessing it’s intentional.”

  “Well, it didn’t stop us from communicating with you a few days ago,” Holly said.

  “I remember you wrote down ‘Robbin-Sear Industries.’ What do they have to do with all this?”

  “Dave, you have to understand,” Evie said. “The evidence I’ve collected is sketchy. But it’s my belief that they’re the ones responsible for what happened.”

  “You mean, the outbreak?” I said. “How?”

  “Look, being a reporter is hard. Most of your time is spent chasing down leads, doing research, putting the pieces together until you have a story. You check and double-check the facts, you know, to make sure the station doesn’t get sued. Every once in a while, you get lucky. I mean, really lucky. You live for those moments.”

  Her eyes sparkled in a way that told me she was born for this.

  “Before I became a television news reporter, I was a researcher at the San Francisco Chronicle. A friend of mine, Rudy Moritz—you might’ve heard of him—knew I was good and asked me to help him research a story he was working on. Something bizarre had happened in a remote mountain village in Guatemala, somewhere near Jacaltenango. There were somewhere around a hundred people in the village—mostly elderly. The place was so small it wasn’t even on the map.

  “Something came over the AP wire. It seemed that practically everyone in the village had come down with a strange illness. The symptoms were very similar to what you saw here in Tres Marias in the early days. People wandering the streets like ghosts—their eyes blank—gibbering like idiots.”

  “The jimmies,” I said.