The Dead Series (Book 2): Dead Is All You Get (6 page)

“Guatemala, you mean. But now you’re talking about a town in Northern California!”

“Why are you surprised, Dave? In 1951, the DOD began open-air tests in this country using disease-producing bacteria and viruses. This continued through 1969.”

It was too much. I got to my feet and paced back and forth. Ran into a huge cobweb. Pissed off, I swatted it away as the three women stared at me. Then Holly turned to Evie.

“Are you sure the two things are related?” she said.

“Positive,” Evie said.

“Why?” I said.

“Because the person in charge in Guatemala is the same person who runs the facility here. He’s the one Larry Evans pointed me to. Guy by the name of Bob Creasy.” I froze. “You know him?”

I turned to Holly. “He was the one who picked me up after my car accident in July.”

“I read something once,” Holly said. “About the Department of Defense building a special facility to manufacture vaccines.” Then to Evie, “Are you saying these guys are somehow tied to the DOD?”

“While I was researching that story a few years ago,” Evie said, “I learned that an ex-DOD official is now the COO of Robbin-Sear. A little cozy, don’t you think?”

I took a seat and ran my hands through my hair. Holly laid her hand gently on my arm. We sat in silence for a few moments.

“If what you’re saying is true,” I said, “then somehow my friend Jim got mixed up with these guys.”

“What makes you say that?” Evie said.

“Because, whatever it is that’s spreading through this town, Jim got it early on.”

“Dave,” Holly said, “when Creasy picked you up, didn’t you say he was looking for stray dogs?”

“Yeah. He was especially interested in Jim’s dog, Perro.”

“That might have something to do with how the virus got out.”

“You think they were experimenting on animals?”

“That sounds likely,” Evie said.

“So do we know what happened to Perro?” Griffin said.

“He was out there on the road the night Creasy picked me up. But he got away. And he was definitely rabid.”

“Why would a government research facility care about a rabid dog?” Holly said.

“What if he was sick on purpose?” Griffin said.

Evie looked at the girl intently. “Go on.”

“My stepdad used to meet with these Red Militia guys at the house, right? Me and my brother, Kyle, weren’t supposed to hang around, but we always heard them talking about this big conspiracy. You know, medical experiments and stuff.” Griffin turned to Holly and me. “What if they were right and someone, like, gave the dog something to make him sick?”

“Jim was bitten—and not by a human,” I said. “I saw the autopsy photo. To Griffin’s point, Perro could have been infected and bitten Jim. And others too.”

“But why didn’t people get rabies, instead of whatever this is?” Holly said.

“I don’t know,” Evie said.

“So how does Black Dragon figure into all this?” I said. “I mean, normally, the police would be involved and—if necessary—a state of emergency would be declared by the governor and the National Guard sent in, right?”

“Yes,” Evie said. “Remember the LA riots in ’92?”

“I was kind of young,” I said. “So Black Dragon shows up. A
private
security company. Who made that call?”

“No clue,” Evie said. “All I know is we need to get inside that facility on Old Orchard Road. That’s where the truth lies.”

“Now that Black Dragon is running things again, I’m not sure how easy that will be.”

“Dave,” Holly said. “If we join them, we might be in a better position to do something.”

“I need to talk to Warnick. He’s the only one I trust.”

“I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

Holly was right. Everything pointed to Pederman and his damned offer. Unless we agreed to join up, he’d keep us shut out. But being part of the operation would give us access to communications—and more importantly, intelligence.

It was the only way.

“We’d like to speak to Supervisor Pederman,” I said to the guard at the entrance to the administration building.

“What’s this concerning?”

“Tell him we’re ready to talk. He’ll know.”

The guard radioed someone who escorted us inside and asked us to wait in the foyer. After twenty minutes, another soldier walked us to the principal’s office. Inside, Pederman was waiting, along with Warnick. On the coat rack hung two fresh uniforms in clear garment bags. And on the floor, two shoe boxes.

“How did you know our decision?” I said.

Pederman smiled broadly. “Let’s say we were hopeful.”

“Welcome to the team,” Warnick said. He extended a hand to each of us.

“We need you to fill out some paperwork,” Pederman said, handing us each an official-looking packet. “Once everything has been processed, we will issue each of you a weapon. We’re fast-tracking the whole thing. I’ll get up to headquarters and make you an appointment with HR. Someone can be onsite tomorrow to take care of the employment contract and go over your benefits package.”

“No signing bonus?” I said, skimming the paperwork. I totally wasn’t being serious.

“I’m authorized to offer each of you twenty-five thousand dollars. Of course, it will be grossed up to account for the taxes.”

Holly’s jaw dropped as she stared at me. “Oh my gosh …”

“I think you’re going to like working for us,” Pederman said.

“Can’t wait to get started,” I said. As I’ve explained before, I’m a good liar.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Pederman said. “Because of the unusual nature of the events over the last few months, we’ll need to interview both of you and take statements.”

“You mean, like a deposition?” I said.

“Sort of. But it’s nothing to worry about. We’re trying to gather all the information we can about what happened. Sooner or later there’s going to be an investigation—and possibly lawsuits. We need to know all the facts.”

“And we won’t be charged with anything?”

“No. If it makes you feel any better, Warnick and Springer have vouched for your character. They told us their version, which frankly makes you guys look like heroes. But now we need your statements.”

“Sure,” I said.

“Fine with me,” Holly said.

Walking back, I took in the crisp air. The sky was clear and, other than the sounds of the ATVs patrolling the fences, all was quiet. Far off on the outdoor basketball courts, a group of men and teenage boys was enjoying a pickup game. It all reminded me of how things used to be, before the plague.

As we reached our trailer, Holly stopped and took my hand. “Dave, thank you for doing this. I mean it.”

“I get the feeling you really want this.”

“I do. But not for the reasons you think.”

“Is this another one of those fly-bys and I’m standing here clueless?”

“No.” She laughed and laid her hand on my arm. “No, honey. It’s just that, well … I’m pregnant.”

Elation and panic
dizzied me. I didn’t know whether to celebrate or mourn. I don’t normally weave—unless I’m drunk. But I felt myself tilting back as Holly reached for my other arm.

“Easy there, cowboy,” she said.

We found a shady spot under an oak tree. A squirrel stared at us from halfway up the light brown trunk, chittering and flicking its tail. I had nothing but love for it as I sat and pulled Holly down next to me. No one wanted to be the first to speak, so we did the staring game. After a few seconds I blinked.

“Aw!” I said. “Come on, do-over.”

“Forget it.”

It was surreal, us sitting under that tree, the sun breaking through white billowy clouds, while not fifty yards away two groaning draggers pressed up against the chain link fence, as if eavesdropping. We were between two worlds, it seemed. The sane and the insane. So far, our choices pulled us towards the former. But that other world was never far away.

Somehow, Greta got out of the trailer and found us. She lay at our feet and waited for someone to stroke her neck. Some guard dog, I thought. At least the kid will have a pet.

Holly took my hand. “I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that. I was pretty sure, but the blood test confirmed it.”

“I wondered why you were acting all weird. How far along are you?”

“A few weeks. I’m still getting used to the idea. Are you upset?”

“What? No, I’m … Everything is so crazy. I mean, we’re safe now. But are we going to be able to have that kind of life?”

I watched as a young recruit hopped off her ATV and skewered the draggers through the head with her bayonet. It was deliberate and routine, like picking up trash in a public park. She wiped her blade on the grass and radioed someone. The cleanup crew probably. Being the new recruits, would Holly and I end up on that detail?

“Life is always going to be hard,” she said. “And we’ll be dead someday. We have to try to live it the best we can. Raise our family.”

“Circle of life?”

“Pretty much.”

Maybe it was the effects of the killing and the blood and the suffering we’d gone through over these last few months. Maybe it was the glimmer of a possible future where Holly and I might actually be happy. Or it might have been a moment of weakness. But I felt myself choking up with emotion and I had to swallow it all back down and keep it there. We’d been through so much together, Holly and me—barely surviving sometimes. Seeing friends and comrades killed. Experiencing the worst of humanity. And sometimes the best. Losing a part of ourselves, yet becoming stronger together.

How did a person do it alone in this life? How did they survive? There were so many out there with nobody to help them. And plenty to hurt them. There’s an old French proverb that says God always helps fools, lovers and drunkards. I could attest to that last category. In my drinking days, I’d been on that lonely road, surviving miraculously from one bender to the next. And I believed that, without Holly, my luck would have eventually run out.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m a pussy.”

“No, you’re not.” Holly rubbed my shoulders and pulled me close. I could smell her fragrant hair, the scent of her perfect skin. She kissed me.

“I will always love you, David Michael Pulaski. I know things are hard right now, but that’s one thing you never have to worry about. Got it?”

Those were words I could happily take to my grave.

As we made our way to our trailer, Holly holding my hand, Greta bounding ahead like an errant puppy, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, I thought of my baby.
Our
baby. Would it even have a chance? I knew Holly would be an awesome mother, but what about me? I barely knew how to take care of myself. How would I ever measure up? Be an example?

Stay sober,
a voice said. Good advice. Especially since I knew there were more dark days to come.