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Death Squad (Book 2): Zombie State Page 2


  “What’s going to happen to them?”

  Maxwell stared at the bottom of his glass. “It hasn’t been decided yet.”

  “Decided by whom?”

  Maxwell screwed the flask cap back on. He still hadn’t met Tommy’s eye.

  “By me,” he said. “You’ll be pleased to hear, due to my record, I’ve been granted clemency. They’re willing to ignore the mistake on my part so long as I make up for it now. Tidy up this little mess.”

  Tommy’s mouth was dry.

  “We trusted you and your team to carry out a mission and prevent the virus from spreading,” Maxwell said. “Now, it’s out there. Exposed. Who knows what havoc it’ll wreak. You let me down, Tommy. Both you and your team.”

  Tommy turned away from the older man’s gaze. His disappointment was too painful to bear.

  “I’m coming under considerable pressure to have your entire team locked up,” Maxwell said. “Or worse.”

  That could only mean one thing.

  “Sir, there’s no need to punish the others—” Tommy said.

  “There are some who believe you represent too much of a risk. After this incident, it’s difficult to disagree.”

  There, in the corner of the great man’s eye, Tommy caught a glimmer of the natural contrarian he was. Hope.

  “You disagree with them,” Tommy said.

  “I’ve had a somewhat longer experience in the military than most,” Maxwell said. “One thing I’ve learned is not to trust other people’s opinions but to trust my instincts. I trust what I think. I made up my mind about you the first time I saw your file. Sometimes you can look at something, or someone, and just know. I’m fortunate to have had that experience several times in my life, and not once has it let me down. I trust you won’t either.”

  “I’ll do my best, sir.”

  “I’m going to ask you something, and I want you to answer me as directly as you can.” He turned to face Tommy. “Did you know about any of this?”

  “Any of what, sir?”

  “The murder of these innocent people and the virus spreading beyond the city.”

  Tommy blinked. “No, sir. Of course not.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m certain.”

  The Colonel’s eyes took in every tiny muscle twitch in Tommy’s face. He nodded his head, content.

  “What’s this really about, sir?” Tommy said.

  “Your team went into Austin. We don’t know much of what you got up to in there, save what you told us.”

  “You think we had something to do with the virus getting out?” Tommy snorted, shaking his head.

  Maxwell’s eyes narrowed. “You think this is funny?”

  “No, sir. But some things are so ridiculous it’s hard not to laugh.”

  Maxwell’s jaw tightened.

  “You think people getting murdered is a laughing matter?” he said.

  “No, sir.”

  Maxwell’s concentration broke. “Yes. You’re right. If I were the one being accused, I guess I wouldn’t react too well to it either.”

  He raised his wrist to his lips.

  “Stand down,” he said.

  The lights came on, revealing half a dozen armed men spread throughout the space. They vacated the pod.

  “I needed to be sure you weren’t a part of this,” Maxwell said.

  “Of course, sir. I understand.”

  “You said you don’t believe Hawk did this. You might be right.” He picked up a small plastic bag from the tabletop. “Take a close look at this. We recovered these small flakes of silicon from the bathroom wastebasket. If this guy was smart, he would have dumped them in the desert somewhere we would never find them.”

  Tommy peered at the small flakes of plastic.

  “What is it?” he said.

  “Fake skin.”

  “Fake how?”

  “Fake fingertips.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to. We found two of these things. There might have been more, we don’t know. It’s not important. This is just one of them. The other is being tested as we speak. That one had a small smudge of what appears to be blood on it.”

  A knock came at the door. A female soldier handed Maxwell a wad of papers. He thanked her and flicked through the reams of paper. His lips moved as he read the conclusion on the final page.

  “It appears you were right about your good friend, Hawk,” he said. “He didn’t do this.”

  “Who did?”

  “A fellow named Michael Bolster. Here’s his photo.”

  Tommy recognized him immediately as the leader of the team responsible for the drone attack.

  “How did Michael get beyond the wall?” Tommy said.

  “It appears he impersonated your friend Hawk and made his escape once he got on this side.”

  “Impersonated? But how? We had to give blood. They checked our DNA.”

  “They had your friend’s blood. They extracted it when they seized him. Then they used these flakes of silicon and put it over the tip of this Michael character’s fingers so that when he inserted them into the machine, it drew from Hawk’s blood and not his own.”

  Tommy recalled the weeping wounds from the blades sticking out of Hawk’s chest. If only he’d spoken up. . .

  “When?” Tommy said. “When could they have taken him?”

  “In the sewers, while everyone else was indisposed, would be my guess.”

  Tommy shook his head. “This is impossible.”

  “Oh, it’s quite possible. We’re only lucky Michael didn’t consider these silicon flakes.”

  “If you didn’t get a sample of his blood, how do you know it was Michael?”

  “He left a partial fingerprint inside the silicon flake. We were able to identify him from that. Before the virus spread, he had quite a rap sheet from a long history of violent crimes. These are not the first innocents he’s murdered in his long and illustrious career.” He looked up from the paperwork. “It appears I owe you and your team an apology. Lucky I didn’t make any rash decisions.”

  “It’s not a problem, sir.”

  “I have every military unit I can lay my hands on out there, searching for him. All the might of the US military at my fingertips. His intentions appear obvious. Since the very beginning, he wanted to spread the virus. For all we know, he could be the one that started this thing. That’s what this whole enterprise has been about. That’s what it’s always been about. And I want you to stop him.”

  “Me, sir? Are you sure that’s wise?”

  “You’ve met this Michael fellow face-to-face. You know better than anyone else I have.”

  “What about your superiors?”

  Maxwell wore a small smile. “Let me worry about them. Your mission is to find this man and stop him from spreading the virus. Take him alive, if possible. There are always more crumbs to follow. I give you access to any and everything within the military to use at your disposal.”

  Tommy let out a sigh.

  “Is there a problem?” Maxwell said.

  “No, sir. I was looking for a little rec time after our last mission.”

  “We can’t always get what we want now, can we?” He took another swig from his hip flask. “Good luck, and happy hunting.”

  5.

  “THAT IS the most incredible thing I’ve ever heard,” Samantha said. “What’s even more amazing is you actually expect me to believe it.”

  Tommy was taken aback.

  “But it’s true,” he said.

  “Is this your subtle way of telling me you’re not going to make it to dinner with my parents tonight?”

  Tommy stared blankly.

  “You forgot,” Samantha said.

  “I’m sorry. I was looking forward to seeing them.”

  Samantha folded her arms.

  “Okay, so that’s a lie,” Tommy said. “But I do regret I won’t get to spend more time with you after the last mission.”
r />   “The last mission never ended, Tommy. You’re still on it.”

  “I guess you could look at it that way.”

  “What other way is there of looking at it? I thought you were going to take things easier? That was the plan.”

  “And I meant it. Things just have a way of working out differently sometimes.”

  “Only if you let them.”

  “You’re right. I promise I’ll spend more time on us when I get back. I swear.”

  He drew up close and wrapped his arms around her.

  “You’d better,” Samantha said. “I’m holding you to it.”

  “So, am I allowed to go on this mission?”

  He spoke like a little boy asking to play a computer game as he’d finished his homework.

  “As if I could stop you,” Samantha said.

  In truth, she was the only person who really could stop him. She wanted him to be happy, there was no way he could be if he turned his back on his duty.

  “Go for it,” Samantha said. “And try to come back in one piece.”

  “I did last time.”

  “Just about.”

  They folded into one another’s arms. That’s when, of course, the team decided to show up.

  “Now what’s all this hullabaloo about Hawk—?” Emin said, pulling up short. “Oh.”

  “I was right in the middle of my beauty sleep—” Guy said. “Oh.”

  Guy only paused because Emin had stopped him.

  “Sorry,” Emin said. “We didn’t expect. . . We’ll leave you two guys alone.”

  “It’s fine,” Samantha said. “I was about to head out to work anyway.”

  She kissed Tommy on the cheek, waved to the others, and slipped away.

  “What’s up with Sean?” Tommy said. “Was he drugged?”

  He lay comatose in Guy’s arms, foaming at the mouth.

  “No,” Emin said. “That’s how he sleeps.”

  6.

  THE HELICOPTER thundered as they rose and then sailed over the wall, giving rise to unpleasant memories for them all. At least this time they were actually inside the helicopter.

  Tommy had just finished telling them the situation as it now stood. He was met with a moment of shocked silence.

  “I can’t believe this,” Guy said into his microphone. With the noise-canceling helmet and microphone in front of their mouths, it was a fairly pleasant experience. “You’re telling me, in spite of everything we did yesterday, that the virus got out anyway?”

  “Yes,” Tommy said. “In fact, you could say the virus got out because of us, not in spite of.”

  “Because we were Michael’s cover,” Emin said. “We helped him escape the city. Indirectly, at least.”

  “Then what happened to Hawk?” Guy said, slurping another mouthful of coffee from a paper cup.

  “They must have snatched him,” Emin said. “Taken him somewhere inside the city.”

  “Right,” Tommy said. “He’s inside the walls somewhere.”

  Guy upended the paper cup and looked disappointed when there was none left.

  “You do know the coffee won’t do anything for you?” Tommy said. “You’re dead.”

  “But the sense of it will,” Guy said. “Do you guys ever get the feeling your body is sometimes still alive?”

  “Only by accident, when I forget I’m dead,” Emin said.

  “Tommy?” Guy said.

  “No,” Tommy said. “Dead as a doornail.”

  “Sean?”

  Sean was fast asleep, strapped into his chair.

  “I guess it’s just me then,” Guy said.

  “Where did Michael go?” Emin said.

  “We’ve got CCTV footage of him on a motorbike, heading east,” Tommy said. “He’s had a two-hour headstart. We have images of his license plate, courtesy of the traffic cops, showing he got as far as Bastrop. He might still be there somewhere, hiding out. In the meantime, our goal is to figure out what his ultimate plan is.”

  “I should think that’s pretty obvious,” Emin said. “He wants to infect as many people as possible.”

  “But where? And more importantly, how?”

  “Why don’t we tell the public about this?” Guy said. “Everyone’s a walking surveillance camera these days.”

  “We’re keeping this out of the media for as long as possible,” Tommy said. “It’s guaranteed to cause a full-on panic. That’s the last thing we need right now.”

  “So, why are we heading back into Austin?” Emin said. “Shouldn’t we be heading in the opposite direction?”

  “The military is planning on sweeping the city again soon,” Tommy said. “Before they do, I want to get inside the house Sean saw.”

  Sean slipped half out of the restraints, snorting.

  “The chopper’s going to set us down in the park,” Tommy said. “Guy’s going in with me. While we’re in there, I want you and Sean to join the search that’s taking place outside town. I want you to keep it organized. Keep your finger on the pulse of what’s going on. Any sign of where Michael went, I want to know. I’ll contact you again when we get out of the city.”

  “You do know I used to be a barista, right?” Emin said. “What do I know about conducting nationwide searches?”

  “Think of it as looking for a bad bean in a bagful of good ones,” Tommy said with a grin.

  “Great, thanks,” Emin said. “That really helps.”

  “We’re coming up to the area now. Wake Sean up.”

  Emin gently prodded the boy before realizing he was dead to the world. She resorted to more aggressive tactics by poking him up the nose. He snorted awake. He looked surprised to find himself here and not in his warm bed.

  “Sean, is that the house you saw?” Tommy said, pointing at the big white building tucked behind a tall hedgerow.

  It took a moment for Sean to recognize where he was.

  “Yeah. That’s it. There were a lot of men outside it before. They were carrying big guns.”

  Tommy gave the thumbs up to the pilot. He brought the chopper down in a field of green grass less than a block from the house.

  “Good luck!” Tommy said to Emin as he unstrapped himself. “And don’t worry! You’ll do fine!”

  The engine was a deafening roar once he removed his helmet. Tommy and Guy scooped up their rifles and hopped from the chopper. The moment they’d deployed, the chopper immediately rose and banked.

  It was a relief when the helicopter and its roaring engines finally headed away.

  “If that doesn’t wake you up first thing in the morning, nothing will,” Guy said.

  “Not just us, I’m afraid.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Tommy nodded to the surrounding streets and thick bushes. “A thunderous aircraft will attract everything in this area to it.”

  “Oh,” Guy said. “Right.”

  Issuing forth from the various streets, buildings, and alleyways, the undead migrated toward their grassy knoll.

  7.

  THE TOWN Michael had come to was called Dustbowl. It’d taken less than two minutes to drive through it. He signaled—there was no need to as there were no other cars on the road—and swung a U-turn.

  He slowed at a single set of traffic lights. They ran through their eternal repeated system. Each arm of the crossroads disappeared into white oblivion. There were signs, some of them handpainted. The town was already dead, the residents simply refused to acknowledge it.

  He slowed down and glanced at the few shops that weren’t boarded up. An old man parked—permanently, he thought—outside a shop, momentarily pausing in his rocking, attention latching onto the stranger passing through the town. He had a beer clutched in one hand, forgotten. He peered at Michael with small suspicious eyes beneath a broad-brimmed hat. An obligatory old dog lay beside him, panting in the heat.

  He wasn’t the only resident in attendance. Off the arm that desperately stretched west, a small gang of kids ran into an alley. One poked a dog with a
stick. Another played with a piece of rubber.

  Michael shook his head. He was doing these people a favor.

  “Hey, mister. Can you spare a dollar?”

  It was the oldest boy in the group. He had dirty blond hair that flopped over his small blue eyes.

  “Used to be, people would beg for a dime,” Michael said.

  “Can’t buy much for a dime these days, mister.”

  “And we’re not begging,” a young girl, maybe seven or eight, said. “We’re asking politely.”

  The girl was clearly the smart one of the group. Michael had been part of many gangs in his time. He found the members always ended up fulfilling one trope or another. She fulfilled either the smart one or the slimy backstabber. That often amounted to the same thing.

  The kids, unabashed as they always were in a gang, surrounded his bike. They poked and probed at it like it was the latest Aston Martin. Kids were impressed with anything. That, he decided, would be his inspiration.

  “This is your lucky day, kids,” Michael said wearing a big grin. “I’ve got something even better than a dollar.”

  “Ten dollars?” the smart girl said.

  “Better than money,” Michael said.

  He reached back, opened the delivery box and took out one of the balls. He shut the box afterward. Kids like these always had wandering eyes and hands.

  The kids barely got a look at it before snatching it out of his hand. The oldest kid had grabbed it and held it out of reach of the others.

  “Chill,” he said. “We can all look at it.”

  He held it out in front of them. They crowded around it, poking and probing with the same curiosity they had with the bike.

  “What is it?” the smart girl said.

  “It’s a ball,” Michael said. “What does it look like?”

  “How is this worth more than money?” another of the boys said. He had a smudge of dirt on one side of his nose. “We can’t buy anything with this. It’s junk.”

  “It’s not junk to those who know how to use it,” Michael said. “If you don’t want to know its secret, give it back.”

  The oldest boy pulled it back.

  “You gave it to us,” he said. “And now you want it back? So it must be worth something. How much?”