Dead Team Alpha: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (25 page)

So it takes his brain a second to process the nightmare just down from him.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers then turns and starts running back up the hill. His thought of using a trolley is forgotten as the screams behind him get louder and several Zs catch sight of the meal that is running away. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.”

As his legs tire quickly on the uphill slope, he wishes he
could take back every negative thing he said about the old Runner. Wishes he wasn’t such a lazy fuck and maybe exercised more instead of just sitting at a switching station running nothing but his mouth.

***

The sentries at the main gate of the Stronghold, while not Team Mates, take their jobs just as seriously. They don’t question the honesty of Scotty’s words, they don’t wonder what he means by “monkeys” and they certainly don’t laugh when he says he is supposed to tell Commander Lee that death is coming.

One turns and hurries through the gate while the other grabs a thick rope and starts to clang a massive bell set just inside the gate. Soon, up and down the Stronghold other bells answer the call, filling the air with alarms that send
everyone into action or running for safety.

“Let’s get you to the Mayor,” the sentry says as half a dozen more come to the gate to take his place.

“No, no,” Scotty says. “I need to see Lee. I have to find Commander Lee.”

“Protocol is to alert the Mayor first,” the sentry says.

“Fuck protocol, man,” Scotty snaps. “Mr. Helliger says I need to find Lee first. That guy has been around, man.”

The sentry looks out the gate then nods, knowing the reputation of the old man that lives by himself outside the wall.

“Fine,” the sentry says. “I’ll get the Mayor while you go to Lee.”

People
are streaming towards the gates with rifles, carbines, shotguns in hand. Ladders are thrown up against the wall and folks start climbing up to the platform close to the top that spans the entire length. Scotty notices that most of the people that have come running are older than his parents; veterans of the last time the Stronghold was attacked.

“Come on,” the sentry says to Scotty. “Move ass, Kurowski.”

“Jesus, that’s what I’ve been doing,” Scotty gasps as he fills his lungs with air and starts on another sprint, this time to find Commander Lee.

Chapter Nine- Gauntlet

“This isn’t going to work,” Cole says to Stanford, as he studies the two trolley lines. “One goes up and the other goes down.”

“Are you retarded?” Val asks. “They both go up and they both go down. That’s how empty trolleys get up the mountain and empty trolleys go down the mountain. The weight of one pulls the other and vice versa.”

“With the help of counterweights and the pulley system,” Stanford says. “We each get in a trolley, DTA there and DTB here, we
free the cables and off we go.”

“And off we go,” Cole smirks. “Just like that.”

“Can I have a quick word with you, TL Wright?” Stanford asks, gesturing off away from the Teams.

“Whatever,” Cole says.

“That’s my line,” Benji grins, ignoring the look of death Cole shoots his way. “Oh, be nice and stop being such a grump.”

“I like you,” Diaz says, looking at the others. “I like him. What’s your name?”

“Benji. Why, you looking for date later if we don’t die horrible, awful deaths?”

“Hey, you never know,” Diaz grins. “You ever had a Cancun Threesome?”

“Never had the pleasure,” Benji replies. “What’s that?”

“Let’s just say there’s cactus involved,” Diaz nods.

“Really?” Alastair asks. “How does that work?”

“Guys,” Val says. “Shut the fuck up.”

Stanford has Cole by the elbow and refuses to let go.

“You need to man up, Cole,” Stanford says. “Stop pouting that DTA voted their own TL in. That’s their prerogative. That’s how DTA works. The other Teams play it by the numbers, but DTA is DTA. If they don’t want
you, then all the bitching you do won’t change that.”

“But Val?” Cole snaps. “I could see Diaz or even Tiny D, but
Val
? She’s a rookie! Never held a TL post even in the other Teams!”

“Yeah, well neither have I,” Stanford says. “And my Team is running like a well oiled machine. And still alive.”

“Fuck you, Ford,” Cole says, getting right in Stanford’s face. “You have no idea what went down in Sector One. Don’t you fucking put that on me! Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Calm down, man. We’re all friends here,” Stanford says, “I’m sorry. That was a cheap shot. I apologize, okay? But you have to get it together. We
need
you to get it together. Cool?”

Cole’s eyes narrow and Stanford isn’t quite sure what’s going to happen next. He almost flinches when Cole grunts and nods his head.

“Cool,” Cole says. “I’ll let it go, but if we live, then Commander Lee decides who takes over DTA, not those guys.”

“My mother is going to have to decide a lot,” Stanford says. “Since most of the Mates are dead.”

“Right, yeah,” Cole says, nodding. “Sorry. Every person counts.”

“We always remember,” Stanford replies. Then he claps his hands together and turns to the Teams. “Who’s ready to go for a ride?”

***

Val looks through the bars of the trolley cage over at Stanford and DTB in the other trolley. He gives her a wide grin and a thumbs up.

“This was your idea, remember?” Stanford yells.

“Yeah, I know,” she yells back. “Not sure it was the best idea!”

“No one has a better idea,” Stanford says. “You ready?”

“No!” Val replies.

“Tough shit!” He looks at his Team. “You all set, my dears?”

“No,” Shep says. “Not if you’re going to call us your dears.”

“Got it,” Stanford smiles and reaches through the back bars, down to the cable coupling at the rear of the trolley.

His eyes follow the cable to the set of switch pulleys a few feet away. Then he looks over at Val who is mirroring his actions with her hand out the back of that trolley and resting on the coupling there.

“One,” Stanford says.

“Two,” Val says.

“Three,” they say together and yank the large steel pins free from the coupling.

The cables from the back of the trolleys go flying downhill, hit the switch pul
leys, scream through those, and come loose with a whine of metal on metal. They all watch the cables shoot past them back uphill out of sight.

“
Well, that was anticlimactic,” Alastair says.

“Just wait for it,” Val says. “And keep hanging on.”

“TL,” Tommy Bombs says as Stanford grabs on to the bars. “I don’t think it’s going to do what you think it’s going to-”

The trolleys lurch then are yanked up the mountain, the force strong enough that if the Mates weren’t holding on they would all be mashed up against the back bars.

Scrub brush and pine trees whiz past the trolleys as the cages gain speed, going considerably faster than they were intended. The cables on the front of each trolley hum with tension and Stanford wonders if maybe physics might not be on their side. He knew the trick would work and the counter weights, plus the opposite trolleys which are screaming down the mountain towards them, would send their trolleys flying uphill.

However,
he didn’t think of what the force would be like for the cables. Cables, while checked regularly, that were made decades earlier and meant for easy rides back and forth, not hellish speeds that would probably cause the average workers to shit themselves.

“Yee haaaaaaa!” Diaz yells, one arm up in the air. “Ride ‘em mother fucking cowboy!”

“You can fucking say that again,” Anna Lee shouts. “Fuck yeah!”

Val laughs. All apprehension and trepidation gone. She’s DTA and so are her Mates. They live for this shit.

Of course, as the other trolleys whiz by heading downhill, part of the reason the uphill trolleys are moving like bats out of hell, Val comes to the conclusion they have maybe made a tragic mistake.

“HOW DO WE STOP?” she yells over at Stanford, whose trolley is pulling slightly ahead. “FORD! HOW DO WE STOP?”

Then it hits Stanford. The part he couldn’t quite figure out that he was forgetting back at the Bell Tower.

Oh, fuck
, he thinks.
The brakes…

“I DON’T KNOW!” he shouts back. “HOW DID YOUR DAD STOP IT?”

Val closes her eyes, the wind whipping past her face, roaring in her ears, and tries to think back to that day many years ago. Her mind races to the memories and she can see the images of startled faces and hear the sounds of terrified screams. Then her eyes shoot open and she knows for a fact that they made a big mistake.

“W
E CRASHED!” Val says. “REMEMBER, FORD? WE CRASHED!”

Her Team all look at
her, and then look up ahead at the switching station rushing towards them.

“WHAT DID SHE SAY?” S
hep asks Tommy Bombs.

“WE’RE GOING TO DIE!” Tommy Bombs shouts.

“WELL!” Shep yells. “FUCK!”

The switching station is fifty yards
away…then twenty…then right in front of them. Stanford can see the sparks of the cable flying through the pulleys and he smells scorched metal. None of that really registers as it’s quickly overpowered by the sensation of being weightless, as the trolley slams into the switching station and pulley system, flinging everyone inside into the front bars.

***

“What the fuck,” Collin Baptiste says as he stands waist deep in a pit he’s digging for the new part of the municipal building septic system. “Haven’t heard the bells in a long, long time.”

“Get your ass out of that hole, Baptiste,” Sheriff Marsh says, running up to the pit and tossing a shotgun to Collin. “We got a herd heading our way.”

“Is that what all the racket is?” Collin asks, catching the shotgun easily. He walks to the short ladder and climbs up out of the pit, watching all the frenzied and panicked citizens scurry this way and that. “Fuck. We’ve gotten soft, Ward.”

“
You ever going to call me Sheriff Marsh?” Marsh asks.

“Let’s see, you’re the guy I used to drop peyote with as a teenager and then go throw rocks at Zs,” Collin says, racking the pump back and making sure a shell is in the chamber. “So I’m guessing n
o.”

“Fair enough, B
aptiste,” Marsh nods. “Just don’t go spouting off about the peyote, okay?”

“Jesus, Ward, lighten up,” Collin says as the two men start jogging towards the main gate. “I’ve been telling those stories for years. Why do you think you get elected Sheriff so easily?”

“Asshole,” Marsh says as he pulls back the bolt on his Sako A7 .300 caliber rifle.

“Why do you still use that thing?” Collin asks, starting to get winded already. “You know
there are semi-automatics you can get from Ross, right?”

“My daddy gave it to me,” Marsh says. “His daddy gave it to him
and his mom gave it to him. May only hold 4 cartridges per magazine, but more Zs have been dropped by Marsh hands with this than probably any other weapon in the Stronghold.”

“So it’s got sentimental value then?” Collin asks.

“Yep.”

“Sentiment is for pussies,” Collin smirks.

“Says the guy with the short range shotgun in his hands,” Marsh smiles. “Good luck with that.”

Collin looks down at the Mossberg he’s holding and shrugs. “Whatever. Dick.”

***

Commander Lee rubs her face and stares out
the window, watching the defensive guard start to form in the town center. She knows she needs to get out there and coordinate them quickly, but she doesn’t want the others in the room to see how badly her legs are shaking.

Monkeys.

They’re supposed to be dead.

“They’re supposed to be dead, Maura,” Mayor Coolidge snaps, echoing her thoughts. “You assured me of that. You said TL Baptiste and DTA wiped them out a d
ecade ago. That’s why it was safe to start inventorying the Silos and getting them prepped. That’s why we’re getting the copper together and other supplies. You said having those nukes would deter the Consortium from coming at us. You said-”

“Shut the fuck up, Paul,” Commander Lee snaps. “This isn’t the time to second guess or point fingers. We have bigger issues.”

“Despite their fucked up name, that cult almost killed every Team we sent at them,” City Manager Larry Husson says. “Those Monkeys ripped through them faster than a Z through a kindergarten class. We got lucky with Baptiste and DTA being able to take them out!”

“I know!” Commander Lee shouts. “Don’t you think I know that? Don’
t any of you think, of all the people in this room, I’m the most aware of what this means? We apparently failed. Now it’s coming back to bite us in the ass.”

“Why now, Lee?” Councilwoman Linda Kleig asks. “Why
all these years later? And why come here?”

Commander Lee looks towards the wall in her office
and the safe hiding behind the watercolor of a Colorado sunset. She knows exactly why they have come. They need the other half.

“What they’re after doesn’t matter,” Commander Lee replies. “If we don’t hold them
back, then we won’t live to see the consequences.”

“Don’t you think we should be more worried about the Zs?” Councilman Tony Quell asks. “Runners are reporting seeing thousands coming up the mountain. Thousands!”

“The defensive guard and the wall will keep the Zs back,” Commander Lee says.

“But if even a dozen Code Monkeys get
through, then the Stronghold is done for,” Mayor Coolidge snaps. “They’ll wipe us out.”

“Code Monkeys?” Councilwoman Kleig laughs. It’s a high-pitched, nervous laugh and makes her sound
more like an old gossipy woman than the youngest Councilperson the Stronghold has ever had. “That is a ridiculous name.”

“It used to mean something else pre-Z,”
Councilman Quell says.

“What’s that?” Councilwoman Kleig asks.

“It used to mean who gives a flying fuck!” Commander Lee shouts. “It doesn’t matter! They are a cult like no cult you have experienced. These are not the Ghost Dog Whisperers! These aren’t the Quarry Boys! These motherfucking nut jobs cut their own eyes out shortly after birth! They grow up blind, learn to fight and kill while blind, and bested our fucking Teams! BLIND! So laugh all you fucking want at their name, because when they disembowel your snarky twenty-five year old ass, you won’t have the strength to laugh again!”

Councilwoman Kleig shrinks back from the
tongue-lashing and Commander Lee looks back out the window. The town center is full.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some people to coordinate and hopefully
not send to their deaths.”

She storms from the room, turns and looks back at the stunned faces still sitting there.

“And get the fuck out of my office and go make yourselves useful!”

***

Diaz untangles himself from his Mates, checking to make sure they are still breathing.