Surviving the Dead (Book 7): The Killing Line (23 page)

Maru looked at the ground. “Understood, Chief. Sorry.”

“Forgiven. But that’s the last time you take that tone with me, Maru. We clear?”

“Crystal, Chief.”

Heinrich glared a few more seconds, then turned his gaze to the livestock pen. “The animals don’t seem the worse for wear.”

Maru let out a breath. “Yeah. Couple broke their legs panicking, but the rest are all right.”

“Good. We’re going to need them.”

Heinrich began walking back toward his tent. Maru followed and asked, “So what’s the plan now, Chief?”

“Same as it was before—we move on Parabellum. Only instead of heading straight in, we’re going to split up into squads of twenty and meet at Brawley’s Cove and regroup before we begin the assault.”

“You mean…”

“Yes. Scatter protocol.”

Maru went quiet, eyes down.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Heinrich said. “And you’re right. This is a worst case scenario. None of us wanted this, but it’s what we have to deal with. What we do now is get together with the officers and NCOs and remind everyone of their role and plot routes for all the squads to follow. I know it’s dangerous traveling in small groups, but it’ll be even more dangerous if we stay together and the Army finds us again.”

Maru nodded in acceptance. “Right, Chief.”

“Find yourself a horse. It’ll make things go faster. Get some people to help you, and bring everyone we need to the command tent. We have work to do.”

“Right Chief.”

Gabriel

“Phone’s charged,” Hicks said.

I sat up in my bedroll, poked my head out of the Army-issue tent, and looked at the sky. It was clear and sunny, which meant our electronics were now charged and ready for use.

“Anything on the tablet?”

“Yep. Got a solid GPS fix on all four transponders.”

Hicks was sitting across from me. He had propped two MRE chemical heaters against a duffel bag so they could warm our breakfast. The duffel bag itself contained the remaining grenades, ammunition, and LAW rockets the Green Berets had not taken when they left. The horses were picketed not far away, munching contentedly at fresh sprouts of green grass. It was warm that morning, the first balmy stirrings of spring blowing on the breeze. 

“Where are they?” I said.

“Looks like they split up. I got four different trackers following four different paths, but they all seem to be headed more or less in the same direction.”

“Which is?”

“East.”

I touched one of the MRE heaters with the back of my hand. It felt about right, almost too hot to touch. I removed a packet of corned beef hash, peeled it open, and took a few bites.

“Sounds like they’ve got someplace in mind,” I said.

Hicks grabbed the other packet of hash. “And they’re trying to avoid detection getting there.”

“Dangerous strategy, splitting up. Might run into other marauders. Fuckers can get downright cannibalistic.”

“No honor among thieves.”

“None.”

I took a few more bites of hash. It tasted exactly as I remembered from my days in the Marines: salty, mushy, and strangely delicious. Or maybe I was just hungry enough that anything would have tasted good.

“This whole thing might be a bigger deal than we thought,” I said.

“How so?”

“They left Kansas with no intention of returning anytime soon. Do you remember when we were watching them by the river, how much water they were purifying?”

“I did. It was a lot. Looked like they weren’t planning on stopping for water for a while.”

“Exactly. Marauders have hideouts, hidden fortresses where they go to do business. So far, the Army hasn’t had much luck rooting them out. If we can find those places and shut them down, it’ll put most marauders out of business. But the problem is finding them.”

Hicks nodded. “And right now, we got a whole slew of raiders all headed in the same direction.”

“Which tells us wherever it is they’re going, it’s important to them. I can only think of one kind of place that fits the bill.”

“Sounds like you need to make a phone call.”

“Not until I finish breakfast. Dealing with Army brass is a job best done on a full stomach.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re a jarhead.”

“You want to make the call?”

“That would be a violation of the command structure. You’re a civilian, so technically you outrank me. Also, General Jacobs put you in charge. I’m duty bound to defer such tasks to your superior qualifications.”

I crumpled the empty MRE pouch into its box. “You know, for a guy who barely talks, you can really spin a line of bullshit.”

Hicks grinned. “I am a man of many talents.”

*****

“As always, you’ve done a great job,” General Jacobs said. “Central Command is tracking the caravan as we speak. We’ll watch them via satellite and find out where they’re headed.”

“And when you do?”

“If they stop at one of their hideouts, we’ll monitor them. Observe the comings and goings, so to speak. See if we can track down more such places.”

I tried not to grind my teeth. “Couple of problems with that, General.”

“I know what you’re going to say, Gabriel.”

It irked me he had called me by my first name, something he only did when he was trying to appease me.

“While you’re monitoring, they’ll be raiding. People will die.”

“More people will die if we don’t. The goal is to shut them down for good, not swat mosquitoes in a swarm. To do that, we need intel.”

“It doesn’t matter how many marauders you kill, there will always be more. The best strategy is to save who you can, when you can. You want intel? Take prisoners and interrogate them.”

“I wish I could. I really do. But most of the Army’s forces are committed in the Pacific Northwest, or along the country’s main trade routes and safe zones. And in case you forgot, we’re still on the brink of war with the ROC. Hunting down marauders is not our top priority. I just don’t have the assets in place to do what you’re asking.”

I held the phone away from my face, pinched the bridge of my nose between two fingers, and let out a long sigh. The flat Kansas landscape stretched out around me, broken only by the occasional copse of trees. I was standing in the shade of one such copse. There was a fallen maple on the ground about twenty feet away. It looked as though someone had felled it and cut the limbs away for firewood, but left the rest to rot. Probably marauders. No one else lived out here. I walked over and kicked the log. It was still solid. No ants came swarming out of the bark, so I figured it was safe to sit on, and did.

There was no use arguing with General Jacobs. If he could help, he would. I’d known him long enough to believe he was a good man trying to make the best of a terrible situation. He was not indifferent to my concerns, he simply had other priorities. The world was at the beginning of a new dark age, and how dark that age would become depended largely on the actions of people like the general. And right now, with the fate of the Union—and the human race—on the line, hunting down roving bands of thieves and bandits just wasn’t at the top of the list.

“I lost a lot of trade when they took the caravan I was with,” I said.

“How much are we talking about?”

I told him. There was a long pause before Jacobs answered. “Can you get your hands on a cargo manifest?”

“It’s registered with the FTIC.”

“I’ll get a copy. Beyond that, I’m not sure there’s much I can do.”

“If I’m right, and I think I am, the men you’re tracking are headed for a large marauder settlement.”

“I agree. But it doesn’t change anything. I can’t spare the resources to go after them right now.”

“I’m not asking you to. Just let me know where to find them when they stop. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Gabriel, I can’t have you interfering with ongoing operations.”

“And you can’t stop me, either. You said it yourself, General. You don’t have the people.”

“I damn well can stop you. All I have to do is withhold the intel you’re asking for.”

“You do that, don’t ever ask me for anything again. We’re done.”

Jacobs let out a frustrated hiss. “Fine. I’ll give you the location when I have it. But Gabriel, I want you to keep me in the loop. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Anything else?”

“No. That’s it.”

“Very well. Your transportation is on its way. Should be there by tomorrow morning.”

“Did you remember the horse trailer?”

“Yes, I remembered the horse trailer. I still don’t understand why you don’t just turn your horses loose and buy new ones. I could have a Blackhawk out there by midnight.”

“My horse’s name is Red, and I like him. He’s a good horse. I’m not leaving him out here to fend for himself.”

“Fine. Whatever you want. I’m sure you’ll both have a wonderful new life in the Springs.”

“If it’s all the same, I’d rather get dropped off somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“Place just outside of Haviland, Kansas.”

“Can I ask why?”

“I need to find some people.”

“Okay. That’s not a problem.”

“Thanks, General. For everything.”

“I’ll be in touch.”

He hung up.

Eric

The lights of Dodge City floated on the horizon to the west. The three of us rode toward them in the last couple of hours before dawn.

“Be nice to get a room,” Sabrina said. “Sleep on a real bed.”

“You’re going soft,” I said. “Too much easy living.”

Sabrina gave me a look. There was just enough moonlight I could make out the angular features of her face.

“Says the guy who took us four miles out of our way to search for toilet paper in a trailer park.”

“And found it,” Elizabeth said. “Personally, I think the trip was worth it.”

“Thank you, Liz,” I said. “At least someone appreciates my efforts.”

Sabrina let out a snort. She did that a lot. I told her once she should not snort because it was unladylike. She responded by putting her middle finger an inch from my nose and asking, “Is it unladylike to call you a bag of diseased dick-tips? How about a flapping anus? By the way, what’s the male equivalent of unladylike? If it’s
not
scratching your balls in public, you have failed, Eric. You have failed.”

I had made no such comments since.

We were quiet the rest of the ride into town. A week had passed since we left Haviland, and our progress had been slow. We had elected to abandon the wagon, deeming it unfit for stealthy overland travel, and set out with just the horses and oxen. Before leaving, we risked backtracking the section of highway where we fled the attack and found most of Elizabeth’s trade still intact, as well as the other items Hicks had thrown from the wagon. Necessity forced us to leave quite a lot behind, but between what we had brought along and our food and water, we had enough cargo to load down two oxen. Fortunately for us, we had four oxen, so none of them were overburdened.

Nevertheless, the dumb, plodding creatures limited our pace to less than fifteen miles a night. And by night, I mean the hours between 10:00 PM and 4:00 AM. Traveling during those hours minimized our chances of running into marauders, but made encountering the infected a much more dangerous proposition. If we were anywhere but Kansas, I would have deemed the strategy too risky. But so far it had paid off. We had seen no infected.

During the day we rested well away from the highway we were paralleling. And now, less than a mile from what we hoped was civilization, the clomping of hooves took on a sharper note as we emerged onto the remnants of Highway 400 as it turned due north and became Wyatt Earp Boulevard. Beside me, Sabrina shifted in the saddle and scanned her surroundings more than she usually did, which was saying a lot.

“Something bothering you?”

“I don’t like this,” Sabrina said. “Maybe we should go around Dodge.”

I let out a sigh. “Sabrina, we’ve been over this. We need water.
Clean
water. With our equipment, assuming the Arkansas River isn’t a half-dry mud pit right now, which it very likely is, it would take us at least two days to purify enough water to get us to Colorado. And even then, we wouldn’t be able to carry it all even if we loaded down the horses and walked, which would slow us even more.”

“So we make do with what we have. We ration. We’ll be all right.”

“But the animals won’t.”

“We only need two oxen.”

“Still won’t be enough.”

“Sabrina,” Elizabeth said gently, “we have to stop. It’s not just about water, it’s about getting to Colorado Springs alive. Our best chance is to stay in Dodge City for a while and wait for a caravan to come through.”

“Or find one of my business or military contacts,” I said.

“Any of them live here?” Sabrina asked.

“No. But they travel a lot, and Dodge is on one of the most heavily used routes. Like Liz said, it’s our best chance.”

“I survived four years without relying on caravans.”

“Yes,” I said, “but you traveled in a pair or alone, which means you travelled light. We’re not traveling light. We have trade, and livestock, and you and Gabe and Liz will need all of it if you’re going to start over in the Springs. And all this baggage has the unfortunate effect of making us not only visible, but eminently trackable. So we do this my way. We’re going to Dodge. End of discussion.”

Sabrina lapsed into sullen silence. I could tell she wanted to argue further, but could find no logical basis for doing so. Everything I had said to her was true. Dodge City was our best option. She didn’t like it, but she knew it.

The lights of the wall around the inhabited part of the city loomed above us as we covered the last few yards to the gate. The glare was painful after riding in the dark for so long. I put a hand over my face to let my eyes adjust, but before they could, a spotlight swung around and focused on us.

“The gate is closed,” a voice called out through a bullhorn. “Come back at 0700.”

“It’s just three of us,” I yelled back. “You sure you can’t let us through?”

The spotlight swung away and tracked over the road behind us. I heard a hum of voices and then the crackle of the bullhorn.

“Approach.”

I blinked against the green spots in my vision and urged my horse forward again. The lights from the nearby guard towers illuminated the wall and the main gate. Now that I was closer, I realized the wall was actually a triple-layered chain-link fence topped with concertina wire and fronted with a row of concrete highway dividers. Towers stood every hundred feet or so, and I could see the outlines of heavy machine guns in them. I was willing to bet there were snipers, grenadiers, and LAW rockets nearby as well. In the distance, I heard the steady thrum of a large generator.

“That’s far enough.”

I tugged the reins. Behind me, Elizabeth, Sabrina, and the oxen clattered to a halt. The gate was a heavy section of fence set on rollers. At present, it was locked with a chain and heavy padlock. Three armed guards stood in front of us, flanked on either side by machine gun nests. The guard in the middle held a bullhorn and stood behind a tripod-mounted spotlight.

“Where you coming from?” the guard with the bullhorn asked.

“Wichita. Caravan got attacked by raiders. Been on our own for a while.”

The guard walked closer. “We heard about an attack a few days ago. What was the name of the man in charge of your group?”

“Called himself Spike. Don’t know his real name.”

“How many people?”

“About a hundred and thirty or so.”

The guard’s gaze shifted and he nodded as if confirming a thought. “How did you get away?”

“Fella that was with us at the time spotted raider scouts following us. Figured Haviland would be a good place for an ambush, so we held back to see what happened.”

“Guy who spotted the raiders warn the caravan leader?” Bullhorn asked.

“About fifty times. Arrogant jackass wouldn’t listen. Thought he could handle anything.”

“What happened in Haviland? How many raiders were there?”

I shook my head. “On both counts, I’m not exactly sure. We were pretty far away, but I could hear explosions and gunfire. Went back a couple of days later and the place was abandoned, all the wagons gone.”

“Survivors?”

“You’re looking at them.”

“The raiders take any prisoners?”

“How should I know? I told you we were pretty far away.”

It was not entirely the truth, but close enough. I saw no reason to involve the three of us in whatever fallout emerged from the attack.

The guard said, “What about the other guy you mentioned, the one who spotted the scouts. Who is he? What happened to him?”

I shrugged. “His name is Gabriel Garrett. As for what happened to him, he left. Said he wanted to catch up with the raiders and see if they had any prisoners. Maybe try to get back some trade he lost. Haven’t heard from him since.”

“And what was your relationship to this individual?”

“We ran a business together back in Tennessee. But he sold out and wanted to move to the Springs. I came along for my own reasons.”

“Which would be?”

“None of your business.”

The guard accepted the rebuke with quiet professionalism. “Anybody else in your group survive?”

“Yeah. Guy named Hicks. Army grunt. I hired him for his gun, but he quit on me and left with Garrett.” 

The guard thought over what I told him for a few seconds, and then turned and motioned to a soldier standing near the gate.

“Open it up. The Major will want to speak with them.”

The soldier complied and rolled the gate open. The guard with the bullhorn, on whose uniform I could now read the name Reeves and saw the rank insignia of a lieutenant, motioned us through.

“You can stay in the caravan district tonight,” Lieutenant Reeves said, motioning to one of his men who left his post and hustled over. “This is Sergeant Barnes. He’ll show you the way.”

“You said the major will want to speak with us. Who’s he?”

“Major Santino, commanding officer here. He’ll want a statement from you about the attack.”

“I just told you everything I know.”

“I understand, but we’ll need an official statement anyway. From all of you.”

“That’s fine,” Elizabeth said, ever the diplomat. “We’d be happy to help.”

“Appreciated.” Reeves nodded to Barnes. “Sergeant.”

“Yes sir,” Barnes said. He was a young black man, average height, athletic build, a long scar running from his cheekbone to his jawline. The scar diminished his youthful appearance, making him look tougher and more seasoned than he would have otherwise. Considering the state of the world lately, I had no doubt that was exactly the case.

“Please follow me,” he said.

We did. He stayed ahead of us at a fast trot, seeming to have no trouble maintaining his pace. I had to tug the lead ropes a few times to goad the oxen to keep up. We passed a few blocks of dilapidated buildings, most of them dark, but here and there an orange glow of candlelight shining from a window. Now that we were past the gate, it was difficult to make out much detail in the darkness.

“Here we are,” Barnes said, slowing to a halt. If running to this point had wearied him, he gave no sign. He pointed to an empty field that may have once been a park surrounded by a layer of fencing not unlike what I had seen at the gate. “There are no caravans camped right now, so you’ll have the place to yourself.”

“Thanks, Sergeant,” I said. “Need anything else?”

He unlocked the gate and rolled it open. “Nope. I’ll lock the gate behind you. Someone will be by in the morning to open it. Probably bring one of Major Santino’s staff to take you to headquarters.”

“What about our trade and livestock?”

“Not sure. Have to work that out in the morning.”

I frowned. In my experience, trusting one’s trade to the honesty of bored, underpaid infantry grunts was as good as giving it away. Elizabeth noticed my consternation and leaped in before I could say anything.

“Thank you for your help,” she said. “We’ll be all right from here.”

She shot me a warning glare and rode into the caravan district. Sabrina and I glanced at each other, shrugged, and followed. The gate rolled shut behind us and I heard a padlock click and the rattling of chains.

“Tomorrow should be interesting,” I said.

“I’m not a big fan of interesting,” Sabrina replied. “Interesting usually means dangerous.”

“Yes. It does.”