The Dead Series (Book 2): Dead Is All You Get (7 page)

When we told Griffin, she made dolphin noises. Though she’d become a formidable fighter in her own right, there was still the girl in her, filled with a tenderness and hope that only the young can feel. Perfect big sister, I thought.

“When will you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” she said.

“It’ll be a while,” Holly said. “Four to five months.”

“Can I name it? Holly, please? Say yes.”

“What?” I said. “Griffin Jr.?”

She laughed, then became serious. “Or Kyle?”

“After your brother,” I said. “Very cool.”

“Holly, they’re not gonna, like, send you out on patrol, are they?”

“Hey, I’m not crippled. I got moves.”

Holly pretended to round a corner, holding an imaginary weapon out in front of her. I sneaked up behind her and poked her in the ribs with my index fingers, sending her through the roof. It was one of the things I loved most about her—her ticklishness.

“Oh, you did not just do that,” she said.

Now everyone was tickling everyone as Greta barked and spun in circles.

A knock at the door put a stop to the hilarity. It was Warnick. “Sorry to barge in,” he said.

I could tell he was uncomfortable. As if on cue, Griffin took the dog for a walk. Holly and I sat on the sofa as Warnick paced, worrying two manila envelopes in his sweaty palms. I’d never seen him so edgy.

“Warnick, calm down,” I said. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“Look, I know you want to find out what’s really going on. But I think you should forget about it and accept whatever assignment they give you.”

“We’re happy to be the good corporate citizens and all, but someone needs to look into this thing and—”

“No, they don’t!” As long as I’d known Warnick, I couldn’t recall a single time when he’d raised his voice.

Holly rose and got a soda from the refrigerator. “Want anything?” she said to me.

“No, thanks.”

“Warnick?”

He ignored her. “Dave, you need to understand. Black Dragon has a mission.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Really? What is it?”

Groaning, I leaned back and rubbed my eyes. “To make the town safe so the regular authorities can take over.”

“Right. And it’s important that we focus on that.”

“Warnick, can I ask you a question? Did something happen?”

He walked over to the refrigerator and turned to Holly. “May I?”

“Sure.”

He popped open an orange soda and drank deeply. “This is way beyond what I thought it was when we first deployed.”

“You never told us how you ended up working for Black Dragon,” Holly said. “Did they recruit you?”

He took a seat across from us. I could tell he was tired.

“Me and my brother were serving in Afghanistan.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” I said. “Younger or older?”

“Older.”

“Is he a Weezer fan, too?”

“No, but he’s the person who taught me my faith. Someday I’ll tell you what my life was like before that. But not today.”

“Sounds like an amazing person,” Holly said. “Where is he now?”

Warnick fiddled with his soda can and spoke softly. “He was stationed at a COP—combat outpost—and went on patrol in a village, searching for Taliban. He was killed by an IED.”

“Dude, I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Anyway, I finished my tour.”

“What were you doing?”

“Training ANA forces—Afghan National Army. I was getting ready to come home when the Black Dragon recruiters showed up. They were signing up people like crazy. Guys like Chavez, Estrada, Springer and me. A job right out of the military? Why wouldn’t I do it? They offered us a great package, so we took it.”

Warnick told us that their first mission had been to remain in Afghanistan, providing private security for various Afghan leaders. Warlords mostly, who were friendly with the US. Chavez was their supervisor, and unlike his command in Tres Marias, he’d handled it fine. They didn’t see much combat—till the Taliban sent a suicide bomber—a kid on a scooter—to one of the leaders’ homes. Warnick, Springer and Estrada were almost killed in the blast. And Chavez almost died when more Taliban followed and started shooting up the place. After they recuperated in the hospital, they were sent home to Black Dragon’s regional office in San Francisco.

“We weren’t even there three months when the outbreak happened,” he said, “and we got deployed here. As you know, they put Chavez in charge.”

It all fit—why Chavez went over the edge and why Estrada and the others followed him in his insane quest to create a new hell on earth. Somewhere along the way he must have lost it over there, along with the others. Maybe it was because he’d almost died. Or maybe he had already been on his way to madness—a madness that was irresistible to others. But not to Warnick and Springer. Somehow, they had remained sane. Why?

“Then it all fell apart,” Warnick said. “Chavez and his men. Other soldiers going rogue and palling around with the Red Militia. A lot of our people died at the hands of those nailheads.”

During those insane days, Warnick had been a rock. He’d kept me going even when things were at their worst. But he seemed different now. Had the events of the last few months finally gotten to him?

“It didn’t have to be this way,” he said, staring at nothing.

Holly went up to him. “What do you mean?”

Another knock. It was one of Pederman’s aides. “Is Warnick in here?”

“Yeah,” Warnick said, getting to his feet. “I’m finalizing things for the meeting with HR tomorrow.”

“Well, Pederman wants to see you.”

“Be right there.”

He remained at the door. When the aide was gone, Warnick handed us each an envelope.

“Report to the administration building tomorrow at oh-nine hundred sharp,” he said. “You have a meeting with HR. And don’t forget, they’re going to ask you to give depositions. Your assignments are in those envelopes, assuming everything goes well. It’s light duty for the next few days. Mostly target practice and physical training.”

“Warnick, what are you not telling us?” I said.

“Stick to the mission,” he said and left the trailer.

I went out to find Evie, but she wasn’t anywhere around. I asked a number of Black Dragon soldiers—no one knew anything. When I returned to the trailer, Holly was already fixing dinner. Griffin lay on the couch reading a book she must’ve gotten from the school library.

“What are you reading?” I said.

“
The Catcher in the Rye
.”

“Ah, the classics.”

“I don’t get it. Why is Holden, like, so depressed all the time?”

“I don’t know. Too much money and all.”

“Did you find Evie?” Holly said.

“No. And no one has any idea where she is.”

“Do you think they released her?”

“I keep wondering about Warnick. I’ve never seen him like that. You have this ‘little woman’ who tells you stuff, right? So what’s she telling you now?”

“I don’t know. Only that’s he’s acting strange.”

Springer passed by the window. I bolted out the front door after him. He must’ve seen me coming—he walked faster.

“Springer, wait up!”

He stopped and pretended to act casual. “Oh, hey, Dave. S’up?”

“What’s going on around here?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Come on, cut the crap, Calvin. Warnick is acting all weird. I can’t find Evie. There’s a lot of strangeness somebody needs to explain.”

“I think you’re imagining things,” Springer said, faking a smile.

“I need some answers. Can we go somewhere to talk?”

“I’m not supposed to.” His voice was barely audible.

“Springer, we’ve been through too much. Come on, man. Throw me a bone.”

He quickly checked his surroundings and whispered. “By the maintenance shed. Midnight.”

I watched him go, his gait stiff. People were watching, I noticed. They were definitely watching.

I waited near the entrance to the shed. It was dark, and there were no other soldiers around. I heard a crunching noise as someone made their way across the gravel. I backed into the shadows and waited. A lone figure approached and stepped into the light of a naked bulb hanging off the side of the shed.

It was Warnick.

“Warnick—”

“Shh!”

“What’s going on?” My voice was a whisper.

“Inside.”

He eased the metal door open and we slipped in. We didn’t turn on any lights, instead making our way carefully along the wall. Moonlight shone through one of the windows in a luminous pool in the center of the oil-stained floor. We stood close to one another so we wouldn’t have to raise our voices.

“So are you going to tell me the truth?” I said.

“You shouldn’t be asking all these questions. I thought I told you.”

“Look, we agreed to sign on like you and Pederman wanted. We’ll do our jobs. But I need to know what happened to my friend Jim. We won’t feel safe till we know.” I looked directly into Warnick’s eyes. “There’s something else. Holly’s pregnant.”

“All the more reason to keep a low profile. Congrats, by the way.”

“Warnick, I know you came here to convince me to stand down. But, dude, you know me. And you know I’m not going to do that. So you might as well come clean.”

Warnick began pacing again, then stopped and stared at something across the room. Our eyes adjusted to the darkness, and we saw a couple of metal folding chairs lying next to a wall. We set them up and sat across from each other.

“I don’t know if I have any answers for you,” he said.

“Tell me what you know.”

“This is strictly confidential. If you breathe any of it—”

“Warnick, I get it.”

“I was in one of the offices in the administration building this morning, doing some paperwork. The walls are kind of thin. In the office next to me, I could hear them interrogating Evie.”

“Interrogating? You mean, taking a deposition?”

“Not exactly. They were asking her all kinds of questions about her investigation during the outbreak. What she’d seen. Places she’d gone. People she’d interviewed. They wanted to know how she survived all this time by herself. And they wanted to know what she and her cameraman filmed.”

“And what did she tell them?”

“From what I could hear, she kept her answers very general. She talked about the pits of burning bodies and the close calls they had with draggers and the Red Militia. She never gave them any specifics. When they asked again about the news footage, she told them that other than what was broadcast before the quarantine, it was all lost when the draggers attacked their van and killed Jeff.”

“What about Robbin-Sear?”

“They didn’t ask her about it directly. They talked around it. Asked her if she had any thoughts on how this thing might have started, or how far she thought it might have spread. She told them she assumed that it was some kind of virus and that it had made it as far as Mt. Shasta. All stuff that’s generally known.”

I leaned forward and lowered my voice. “When you say ‘they’ you mean Pederman, right?”

“No. Someone else.”

“Huh. Then what?”

“They let her go. Said they’d ask her to come in again if they had any more questions.”

“And you saw her leave?”

“Yeah.”

“What does Pederman say?”

“He’s still in San Francisco.”

“Weird. Are you planning to tell him?”

“Of course.”

“Who do you think it was?”

“Someone whose voice I didn’t recognize.”

“But they work for Black Dragon, right?”

Warnick stood and checked behind him, as if someone might be listening. “No, I don’t think so. After it was over, I heard him leave the room. When he walked past my door, I saw him briefly. He was a stocky guy. With red hair. Wearing a really nice suit. Any idea who that is?”

“Yeah, I do,” I said, getting to my feet. “He’s the mayor.”