Dead Team Alpha: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (13 page)

“Don’t what…?” Val asks. “Oh, ha ha, cocksucker.”

Val lifts her pack and straps it down tight then pushes past a grinning Alastair.

“He tell you about the west?” Bobby asks as they descend the stairs.

“Yeah,” Val says. “Should we head that way?”

“
At night?” Bobby asks. “No, we’ll just keep our ears open. No need to go further than the commons.”

“Have fun, you two,” Tiny D says as she unbolts and unbars the door. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

They get outside and circle slowly around to the front of the administration building. Far above them is the Bell Tower with a faint, flickering light coming from the very top. They work their way through the shadows, keeping to the edge of the wide, overgrown area that used to be the main commons for the former university.

“What’s up with everyone?” Val asks. “They seem to think I’m going to fuck you. Any insight into that?”

“Nope,” Bobby says quickly.

“Right,” Val whispers. “They’re just messing with the rookie, is that it?”

“Probably,” Bobby says.

Val stops and grabs his arm. “Talk, Breitenberg,” Val orders. “What is going on?”

“Nothing,” Bobby says. “They just like to stir shit up. You know how Teams are.”

“So you don’t want to fuck me?” Val asks. “Don’t want to rip my uniform off and just go for it right here? Have me straddle your hips while you pound your hard cock inside me?”

Bobby stands there, his mouth open, stunned. “I…uh…”

Val gives him a pat on his cheek. “That’s what I thought. Listen, Bobby, I’ve caught you looking at me at parties and around town. I’m not a fucking idiot. But I have a guy. We’re happy, okay?”

“Hamish?” Bobby snorts. “He’s afraid of his own shadow. Why would a Mate be with a weak ass normal like that?”

Val’s hand meets Bobby’s cheek again, but it’s not nearly as soft as before.

“Hamish is a good man and he makes me happy,” Val says. “And he’s a fucking professional. He knows where work and personal lines are. Something you apparently can’t comprehend.”

Val shakes her head and starts to walk off.

“Fuck this, man! We’re Mates, for fuck’s sake! I don’t need you dick whimpering around me, got it? This is work, Bobby. It stays work. And even if it wasn’t, I’d still be with Hamish. Give it up, grow the fuck up, and deal. We be cool?”

“We be cool,” Bobby says, holding out a fist. “And for the record, I didn’t bring it up. You did. I’d have stayed silent forever.”

“Until your blue balls exploded,” Val says. “Then you’d be crying like a baby.”

She looks at the fist and sighs, giving it a quick bump.

“No more dick whimpering,” she says.

“No more dick whimpering,” Bobby agrees. They walk a few feet. “So what about Hawks? You think I have a chance?”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Val laughs then cuts it short. “Twelve o’clock. Due west. You see that?”

They both crouch down in the dark, hidden behind two large fir trees. Off at the edge of the commons there is movement. They both watch, their eyes piercing the darkness, struggling for details. Trained from the first time they were allowed outside the Stronghold, they know how to spot the difference between Z movement and living movement. Neither
is happy by what they see.

They slip on their NVGs and the world around them goes from pitch black to a faded green.
Bobby reaches out and taps her on her right shoulder. She taps him back on his left, letting him know she understands the plan. The two move off in opposite directions, eyes locked onto the end of the commons.

Val marvels at the fact she can actually see in the dark. All the questions she has as to where the NVGs were found, how many batteries are stored in the armory, what happens if she breaks hers, etc, get shoved to the back of her mind. She focuses her attention on getting used to the new sight and that she’s lacking some of her peripheral vision. That part bugs her.

Circling the commons to the right,
while Bobby covers the left, Val keeps her M-4 trained towards the area of movement. The green hued shapes of trees and bushes are all that she sees at first, but after a few yards, she spots movement once again.

A Z.

Her training tells her not to engage, just to let the thing wander through the night and make its way to deader pastures. But something about the creature bugs her. It’s not what she and Bobby detected earlier. Yet, it’s right where they had been looking.

Carefully placing each foot in front of the other, turned slightly sideways, Val approaches the Z. She gets about twenty yards
away, then crouches and clears her throat. The Z instantly turns towards the sound and hisses, but it doesn’t move. Instead, it lifts its arms and just reaches out as if it’s stuck in place. Every instinct tells her to back off and regroup with Bobby. Go get the Team.

But she doesn’t want to be the panicky rookie.

Ignoring her gut, she takes a few steps closer, her enhanced vision studying the undead monster before her. It takes her a couple of seconds, but she finally spots what’s holding the Z back: a rope. Tied about its waist and staked down behind it.

The footsteps come fast and she barely gets turned before her NVGs
goes flying from her face. She stumbles, but stays upright, bringing up her forearm to block the next hit. Pain explodes in her ulna as the bone absorbs the impact, but her experience tells her nothing’s broken; it just hurts like a mother fuck.

Ducking low, she flips her carbine around and thrusts into the night towards her attacker, but she connects with nothing but air. She tumbles backwards, rolling and coming up in a crouch as she feels something fly through the space her head had just occupied. She dives to the left and cries out as her ankle is smashed against the ground. Whoever is after her is fast and silent, neither of which are attributes
that Zs possess.

The
first hit told her she’s dealing with a person and not a Z, but the speed makes her wonder what kind of person. Not a typical survy or wasteland trash. Could be a crazy, hopped up on whatever crazies like to snort, shoot, inhale, drink, jam up their rectums. But crazies like to holler and screech when they attack. This guy is quiet as a shadow and just as hard to track. Some cult member? One of the death worshipping groups out in the Plains?

All possibilities stream through her head as she rolls, ducks, dodges, and blocks the continuing attack
. She takes a wicked hit to her temple, and streamers and stars light up the night. She feels her grip loosen on her carbine just as she’s trying to get it to her shoulder. The attacker senses her weakness and smacks the weapon from her hands. The clattering of metal against dirt and weed covered concrete is the loudest sound Val’s heard all night other than her own grunts of pain.

A boot connects with her jaw and she sprawls onto her back, her right hand fumbling at her belt for her blade. But that is back with TL Lafferty. Fuck.

A shape fills the darkness above her and she tries to scoot back on her ass, but a kick to her groin ends that idea as sharp pain rocks her pelvis. She may not have nuts, but it still fucking hurts to get nailed in the bathing suit area. Her legs sweep one way then the other, but the shape just leaps over them. Then she sees the outline of arms being raised and the weapon they are holding coming at her fast.

Three
coughs, and the shape staggers and falls right on top of her. Val grunts at the weight then shoves the body from her and scrambles to her feet.

“You okay?” Bobby asks, hustling up to her. “What the fuck happened?”

“I don’t know,” Val says. “I got jumped by this asshole.”

Bobby, still wearing his NVGs, nudges the body with his foot. “Still breathing.
” He kneels down carefully. “Body armor. I probably broke some ribs, but the piece of shit will live. Come on, let’s drag the fucker back.”

“Give me a second,” Val says as she tries to catch her breath. “I need to find my NVGs.”

“Over there,” Bobby says, pointing in the darkness. “Oh, sorry.”

He walks a few feet away, kneels and picks up the shattered NVGs.

“Kevin is going to be so pissed when he sees these,” Bobby says.

“TL won’t be too happy either,” Val says.

She hooks the useless goggles to her belt and grabs one of the attacker’s arms. Bobby grabs the other and they drag the unconscious person back to the Bell Tower. Tiny D opens the back door and frowns.

“Took you two all of thirty minutes,” Tiny D says. “You ain’t gonna be bad luck for the Team, are you Baptiste?”

“Not trying to be,” Val says. “Help us carry this guy upstairs.”

“Guy?” Tiny D asks, looking down at the body. “If it’s a guy then he’s got something jammed under that armor of his.”

Bobby and Val look down and realize they’re staring at a woman, not a man. They both gasp, with Tiny D joining them as they see the woman’s face.

No eyes, just scab
rimmed holes.

“What are the odds of that?” Bobby asks.

Before either Val or Tiny D can respondd, a shout from above grabs their attention.

“Pyres up!” Alastair cries out. “Direct line to Sector One. We’ve got survies at the door, people!”

Chapter Five- Something Is Rotten In Denver

“What the fuck is this happy horse-” Diaz starts, but catches the nod Val gives towards the boy sleeping in the corner.

Val and Bobby set the unconscious woman down and roll her over. Diaz stares at the place where her eyes should be.

“Hey, TL,” Diaz calls over his shoulder. “You busy?”

“That some sort of joke, Diaz?” TL Lafferty asks as she stomps over to him. “We’ve got pyres lit up all the way to the
Sector One platforms and I’m trying t-.”

She stops and
stares at the woman, then looks at Val and Bobby.

“Carlyle?” TL Lafferty says to the man as he’s about to climb a ladder leading up to the open area of the Bell Tower. “Belay that order.”

Carlyle frowns. “Protocol says I light the pyre. No way to get Runners up the mountain at night. Stronghold needs to know we have company.”

“Change of plans,” TL Lafferty says, turning to look at the boy on
a couch in the corner. “Get him up.”

“TL, he’s sleeping,” Hawks says.

“That’s why I want him up,” TL Lafferty barks. “Do I need to say it again, Mate?”

“No, sir,” Hawks
replies. “I’ll wake him.”

Hawks walks over and gently nudges Marshall on the shoulder. The boy rolls over, his hands balled into fists, protecting his face.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Marshall,” Hawks says. “We just need you to wake up, please.”

He lifts his head and sniffs the air. “Why is there smoke?”

“Kid can smell that?” Junior asks, pointing out the window. “Closest pyre is a dozen blocks away.”

“From here on out I want silence,” TL Lafferty orders. “You don’t say a word, hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” they all reply, more than puzzled.

“Who is she?” TL Lafferty asks, kneeling in front of Marshall. “The woman. What’s her name?”

Marshall cocks his head and frowns. “I don’t know. What woman?”

“The woman you were with,” TL Lafferty replies. “The one you must have gotten separated from. Is she your mother?”

“I don’t have a mother,” Marshall states.

“No, I expect you don’t,” TL Lafferty says.
“So who is she?”

“I wasn’t with a woman,” Marshall says. “I’m all alone.”

“The hell you are,” TL Lafferty says, getting to her feet. “Baptiste? Strip the woman to the waist.”

“I’m sorry?” Val asks.

“Easy order, Mate,” TL Lafferty says. “Strip her to the waist. I need to see her back.”

The boy hisses and lunges at the TL, but Hawks grabs him and keeps him back.

“Now, Baptiste,” TL Lafferty orders.

Val kneels down and undoes the straps holding the woman’s body armor in place. She yanks it up over her head then pulls off the
soiled shirt underneath. Flipping her over, she frowns at the intense bruising from the impacts of Bobby’s bullets.

“Nice placement,” Alastair nods to Bobby.

“Fuck,” TL Lafferty says then turns to Clank and Junior. “Clank? You have the woman, Junior? You have the boy, Carlyle?”

“Here, boss,” Carlyle says, his eyes staring at the
weird markings on the woman’s back that lie under the bruising from Bobby’s shots.

“I hate to do this to you, but I need you for a night run,” she says. “DTB is in Sector Fifty-one with
RC Eight. Get there and let them know two packages are on the way.” She turns to Clank and Junior. “This is a luggage haul. You two up for it?”

Clank eyes the woman and nods. “Yeah, no problem. She’s what, one-ten, one-twenty tops?”

“Junior?” TL Lafferty asks.

“The boy won’t be a problem,” Junior says. “Will
you, boy?”

“I don’t know,” Marshall replies.

“Truss her up,” TL Lafferty orders Bobby. “Tight. No room for error.”

“Does the boy have to be tied?” Hawks asks. “He’s just a kid.”

“You saw how fast he is,” Junior says. “I’d feel a lot better if he couldn’t fuck me up while I’m carrying his ass through the night.”

Val slips the woman’s shirt back on
and Bobby flips her, ties her hands behind her back, brings the cord down and secures her ankles. Clank gives him a nod as he squats and lifts the woman up and across his shoulders.

“Want your carbine?” Duster asks.

“Nah,” Clank replies. “Just adds weight and will slow me down. I got my 9 if shit gets real.”

“Hawks, you’re with them on point,” TL Lafferty says. “The boy listens to you. That may help when the woman wakes up.”

“Yes, sir,” Hawks replies, strapping down her kit.

“Sector Fifty-one,” TL Lafferty says to Carlyle as he finishes double checking the laces of his shoes, tucking them down inside. “You tell TL Lee
he’s to send half his Team with these two back to the Stronghold. The rest of you head back our way. Understood?”

“Got it, boss,” Carlyle says as he stands and twists his
body, then jumps up and down a couple of times. “Any specific location?”

“Saint Anthony North Hospital,” TL Lafferty replies. “They’re pulling copper, so they’ll argue. Tell them to fuck the copper and get the packages
home, ASAP.”

“Done and done,” Carlyle says and takes off out of the room and down the stairs.

“You three stop for nothing,” TL Lafferty says. “You run into Zs you figure out a way around them. Do not engage the undead, got it? Kill those that actively attack only. You hump it as fast as your asses can and you get to DTB Two. Once up the mountain, these two go straight to Commander Lee. No one else. I don’t give two lousy fucks if God Himself gets in the way. Tell Ford, Commander Lee only. She sees their backs and she’ll understand.”

“
Their
backs?” Hawks asks.

TL Lafferty walks over to Junior and the boy and lifts the kid’s shirt. The Team gasp
s at the marks on his back that look similar to the ones on the woman.

“What the fuck are those
about?” Alastair asks.

“None of your concern right now,” TL Lafferty says. “Need to know only. Right
now, we have some company to greet. Pack full kits in case we don’t come back. We are off book and it’s time to go into crisis mode.”

They all nod at her then look out the window at the pyres lighting up the Denver sky.

“Baptiste?”

“Yes, sir?” Val asks, turning her attention from the nightscape to
her TL.

“Get up top and bring our new Runner down,” TL Lafferty says. “With Carlyle
gone, we need someone to stay and man the Bell Tower. If we get separated, this is home base.” She turns to the rest of the Team. “Got that? You get separated from the Team and you hoof it here. No heroics, no one person army. You lose us or we lose you and your job is to get to the Bell Tower. I’m not liking the variables being presented tonight. Safety first. Every person counts.”

“Yes, sir,” they say
. “Every person counts.”

Val climbs the ladder up to the belfry and
shoves a trap door aside. As she climbs up into the night air, the smell of smoke grows stronger and stronger with each gust of wind. She sees a shape off to the side of one of the openings in the red brick.

“Hey, you,” Val says. “You’re needed down inside. Looks like the Bell Tower is yours for now. No more pyre gazing, okay?”

“No need to order me around,” the Runner says as he moves away from the edge and approaches Val, his face still in the shadows. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Me? Yep, it’s me,” Val says. “And who are you, Runner?”

“Benji,” the Runner says as he moves closer and the light from the trap door catches his face. “We met yesterday.”

“S
hit,” Val says. “Sorry, didn’t recognize you in the dark.”

“Whatever,” Benji says as he pushes past and descends the ladder. “Well, are you coming too? Pretty sure you have some gun stuff to do, Mate.”

Val shakes her head. “Pissy bitch is right. No wonder Ford picked him up.”

“I picked him up!” Benji shouts from below. “And don’t’ talk to yourself about other people! It’s rude!”

***

DTA moves silently through the night, ducking from cover point to cover point, their eyes searching the shadows and gloom for Zs while also keeping their attention on the many pyres that light up the night sky. The flames are currently bright orange, but each station has chemicals at hand that can change the color according to the message that needs to be sent.
The current color tells DTA that the company at the city limits just wants to talk.

TL Lafferty hasn’t made it this far believing what the flames tell her. All the color means is that the first pyre is bright orange. If
those manning the Sector One station are unable to change the color then no one will know. It’s a flaw in the system, but that’s why there are the Teams.

And why DT
B One was sent to Sector One. TL Lafferty hopes that the color holds true and DTB One has everything under control.

Carbines to their shoulders, the Team moves as one unit, every other Mate covering a different direction. Diaz has point, his eyes up front. Bobby is next covering eleven o’clock, while Tiny D is third and covering two o’clock. Duster follows Tiny
D and has the nine while Alastair is behind him and has the three. TL Lafferty and Val bring up the six, their eyes and weapons swinging back and forth in a constant semi-circular motion, back and forth, back and forth, making sure nothing catches them off guard.

Two suppressor coughs up front and all eyes turn to see a Z drop that came lunging from a burnt out doorway. Diaz holds up a fist and the Team stops, their senses pushed to the limits. There’s a silent count to five and then Diaz points forward. The Team continues their hurried progress through the dark city.

When passing each station, TL Lafferty looks up to make sure they are acknowledged. Far above them, whether from
rooftops, church steeples, or old water towers, Runners or sentries give the sign that everything is A-Okay and the Team can move on. Each Mate runs through the possible scenarios in their mind about what they’ll find when they reach the final station and the Sector One pyre that set everything off.

Close to three hours of constant moving with barely a Z attack worries the Team almost as much as what lies ahead. Not that they don’t encounter plenty of Zs, just
no groups. A straggler here, a straggler there. Even the most hardened in the elite team are spooked by the lack of zombies impeding their progress. It’s Denver, for fuck’s sake, there should be Hell on each block.

Diaz lets out a low whistle and the Team pulls up behind him, all eyes on the
Sector One station and the burning pyre on top. The Sector One station occupies a large interchange and overpass where former Interstate 25 and Highway 470 meet. The on and off ramps are fortified, and bridges, walkways, and rope ladders connect the different looping lanes of suspended asphalt.

The Team
should see armed sentries patrolling the station, but they don’t. Not good. TL Lafferty takes point and leads them across the open space between the Park Meadows Shopping Center where they came in and to the first onramp that leads up to the Sector One station post.

None of them miss the splashes of blood that coat the steel gate that protects the ramp from Zs. Diaz opens the gate with one hand, while keeping his M-4 up. Bobby and Tiny D rush past Diaz, their carbines sweeping back and
forth, as they check the ramp for hostiles. The bodies of the sentries that were on duty lay crumpled against the cattle chute-style fencing that lines the ramp’s sides, their heads twisted around 180 degrees.

DTA moves on as the rest hurry through the gate and Diaz slams it shut, securing their rear. The Team splits in two with each group taking a side of the ramp, slowly working their way towards the main platforms above them. Blood flows in a steady trickle down the center and sides of the ramp, coming from a rope and wood slat bri
dge dead ahead.

TL Lafferty motions for Bobby to climb up and assess. He slings his carbine, pulling the strap tight, and jumps onto the side fencing, scrambling up so he can get a view of what’s on the bridge. His lack of immediate reporting tells the Team that nothing good is up there. They wait patiently for him to get down and even in the dim light from the
pyre, they can see how pale his face is.

He shakes his head back and forth while holding up both hands showing the Team seven fingers. Flexing his fingers quickly conveys that the seven corpses are no longer intact
. The fact he keeps flexing again and again tells them the dismemberment is extreme. DTA all take a collective breath and push on, heading for a set of steel stairs at the very top of the ramp.

One by one, with Diaz once again leading, the Mates move up the stairs to the first main platform. The blood is th
ick and beginning to congeal as it pools around a pile of corpses. A quick estimate puts the count at close to a dozen crammed onto the small platform. It’s difficult for the Team to get around the pile, but they manage without toppling the stacked death. Up another set of stairs and they are on the platform just next to the burning pyre.