by Phil Maxey
“Yup.”
He placed another piece in his mouth. “Hmm… and you’re telling me this because you think he’s going to come all the way up here? Why would he do that? Him, and this army?”
Art’s radio burst into life. He took it with him back outside.
Joel and Holland were alone.
Holland pointed to the patio doors. “There’s two guards a few feet away outside the doors, not that I need them, right, Joel? You and me are friends?”
“Sure.”
“So, what’s Copeland’s plan? You think he’s a threat to our little town?”
Joel moved forward and sat on one of the stools. “From what I know of Copeland, he’s going to want to wipe out the last remaining camps. He’s not human anymore, and he wants them all gone.”
Them… shit…
Holland opened the refrigerator door and pulled out an already open bottle of white wine, pouring some into a small glass then taking a sip. “And you have seen him control these vamps?”
“Yup.”
“Then I guess we better—” He stopped as he saw Art return to the hallway, and then the kitchen. “—What is it?”
“Some new arrivals at the outer gate. Army types.”
*****
Anna had watched the three Humvees each containing four soldiers move through the gate into the quarantine area while Joel was somewhere else. At first, she thought they might have come from Cheyenne Mountain, but Rachel and Josh said they carried the wrong insignia.
The officer in charge of the eleven others looked like a tough individual. Anna had been around enough soldiers by now to recognize those that garnered respect from their peers, and this woman had that air about her. She wondered how they would adapt to life in what was, essentially, a prison camp.
They had been placed in the hut just a few yards from their own, and she watched as they sat and milled around between the camping beds. The blinds on the side that Anna was on were quickly closed when they saw her looking at them.
Lee sat on the bed to the side of hers. “What’s your take on the new people? Marina said they were soldiers?”
Before she could reply, the door to the long hut opened, and standing in the doorway was the assured-looking woman she had seen earlier.
Hardin was closest to the door, laid back on his bed reading an old weathered newspaper. His eyes remained on the print.
Anna got up and walked forward to her. “Hi, I’m Anna.”
The woman held her hand out. “I’m Carla Antos.”
They shook hands.
“Would you like some water? We have some in the kitchen area at the back,” said Anna.
Carla smiled. “Sure.”
They both walked past the others. Most of whom were silent.
“How long have you been here?” said Carla.
“Few days. I saw you arrive earlier. You’re soldiers?”
“Err… yeah or were. Now, I’m not sure what we are.” She took the plastic mug with water from Anna, and smiled. “Thanks. Where did you come from before?”
“Down south. We travelled quite some way to get here.” Anna gave a faltering smile. “Still don’t know if it has been worth it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those that run things are pretty strict about who they let in and not…”
“I can understand them wanting to quarantine new people.”
“It’s more than that… anyway, hopefully we shouldn’t have to wait too much longer. You were fighting vamps?”
“We were stationed in a base in Montana, got overrun. We were the only ones that got out. We heard about this place over the radio so made our way up here.”
“Well, I’m sure they will welcome soldiers… if you’re not infected.”
Carla took another sip. “Were any of your group infected?”
Anna paused. “There was a soldier with us.”
“Oh, yeah? Where was he stationed?”
“He came from the Cheyenne Mountain base.”
Carla nodded. “We heard that place was overrun. So, he was infected?”
“I’m afraid so. He was a good man, but he was escorted out.”
“That’s harsh, but understandable. There’s nothing you can do for them, and you can’t predict when they will change.”
“No…”
The door at the front of the hut opened once again, and they both looked in that direction. Joel was standing in the doorway. He exchanged a few words with Bill and Rachel then moved to the kitchen. He extended his hand to Carla.
“I’m Joel, you’re part of the new group?”
“Yeah, I’m Carla,” she said, shaking his hand.
Joel poured himself some of the water from the jug but remained silent.
“I should be getting back. But nice meeting both of you.”
Joel and Anna smiled, and watched as she let herself out.
“What happened with Holland?”
“Went well.” He walked back into the main room, Anna followed. Everyone expectantly looked at him.
“You all need to get your stuff packed up, we’re moving into the main camp tonight.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Daniel Copeland looked at the senior group of individuals he had arranged around the specially constructed conference table.
The table wasn’t the only new and unique feature. A lot of the headquarters building had been enhanced, and the rest was in the midst of being rebuilt to better represent what a seat of government should look like. The new architecture wasn’t bright and shiny, full of hope and entrepreneurial spirit as the old cluster of buildings had appeared before. No, these structures looked more organic as if they were born from the minds of medieval monks who had discovered the latest technologies.
The corridors inside were warm and lit by only minimal lighting as Copeland preferred it, and the walls and ceilings were further apart to accommodate larger beings.
He could tell Adrian was uncomfortable sitting in the high-backed arched chair. That amused him.
The head of the science department cleared his throat. “We have further identified some of the other Alkron types, but they are proving hard to locate, being so rare…” Copeland’s head slowly rotated to look at Adrian. “Umm… but it’s only a matter of time before we locate those specimens.”
Copeland turned to a gaunt, bald man. “Have we located all of the remaining human camps on the north American continent?”
The man’s face contorted to a smile, something which appeared to Adrian to be an effort. He looked down at the screen in front of him. One of which was repeated in front of the other four as well. “We have located seventy-six large gatherings of humans, big enough to be considered a ‘camp.’ Agents and teams have been sent to all of them.”
Copeland nodded in agreement. “Good, Galen. Once we have determined there are no Alkrons in these groups, we will remove these infestations, and shall switch our view to beyond. To the south and across the oceans.”
Adrian hated Galen Reynolds. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had to make sure the head of ‘special operations’ got his supply of Insulin he would have been convinced he was a vamp of some kind. He also had no idea what he actually did for Copeland, but the boss trusted him, he knew that much.
Copeland then turned to the final person seated at the jet-black table, a gray-haired woman who stoically returned his gaze. “And how is recruitment progressing, Iona?” His voice grated against the human ear drums in front of him.
Teams are capturing vamps night and day and placing them in local internment camps for transport to larger facilities. The blood injectors that Mr. Kee’s department have developed appear to be working well… for now.” She looked at Adrian who nodded and smiled, even though he knew of her dislike for him.
“Umm, we do have new information from the Canadian border camp,” said Galen. “Our informant has told us that our team have arrived, and Joel Garr—”
Copeland sat impossibly still, with his eyes clos
ed.
Galen wasn’t sure whether to continue. “Joel—”
Copeland’s eyelids slowly slid upwards, revealing his lizard-like pupils. “Which of our teams is there?” he growled.
“The head of security, Carla Antos, sir… Should I alert our internment camps they will be needed?”
Iona looked at Galen. “Those camps are my—”
“Yes. Tell the commanders within a five-hundred-mile radius of the Canadian human nest, their occupants will be required soon. And send more of our operatives. I want more of our people on the inside,” said Copeland. He stood and walked to one of the two exits. “Keep me informed.”
*****
A featureless landscape of beige and green passed by.
“You sure you know where we are going?” said Kizzy.
“Yes!” said Amos. He had lost count how many times the young girl had asked.
“Okay, calm down just asking. So you got like a map app in your head or something?”
He could have spent some time explaining how he had pieced together the location of the border camp from various thoughts and images in Hawkins mind, but instead it was just quicker to indulge her.
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
As he looked back out into the desolate hills and plains, he began to feel a low drumming at the base of his skull. By now he recognized it as the chaos of human thought. “We’re getting close. Keep going north.”
It wasn’t long before they were passing a small red brick building. An American flag hung limp from one pole while the maple leaf hung from another a few yards further along.
“Never been to Canada before,” said Kizzy.
“Not sure there are any countries anymore. It’s places where vamps are, and places where they’re not.”
“There aren’t any places where vamps don’t be,” said Dalton.
“Maybe the moon?” said Kizzy.
Amos smiled.
Dalton frowned. “It don’t matter. What matters is who’s gonna do good, or who’s gonna do bad. America still exists. We just gotta take it back for ourselves.”
Amos and Kizzy exchanged a brief glance. It was the first time Dalton had uttered more than a few words since leaving the old man’s store.
“Copeland might have something to say about that,” said Amos.
“I ain’t scared of him.”
“He can control vamps with his mind.”
Dalton looked slightly to his right then looked back at the road.
“Like you?” said Kizzy to Amos.
“I can’t control anyone. I just can make them feel certain ways. Copeland’s different. If he says to a vamp jump up and down on one leg, its gonna do it.”
Dalton laughed. “Where as you can just make it shit its pants in fear?”
Laughter filled the cabin.
“I guess,” said Amos.
“But you can mess with humans as well as vamps? He’s just got the vamps?”
“I think so…”
Kizzy scrunched up her face. “That mean he can control us?”
“Don’t know… but… I don’t think so…” He winced. The drumming was now impossible to ignore in his head. “It’s just up ahead.”
They all saw the strip of metal that was the outer fence at the same time.
Kizzy shook Amos by his shoulder which he tried to shrug off. The girl was surprisingly strong, even for a Alkron. “Hey, you were right!”
They could see movement on the towers around the fence.
“You better slow down, they are ready to fire. Don’t want to spook them,” said Amos.
Dalton eased off the gas, and they rolled to a stop near the large metal gate. Two men on the opposite side pointed rifles at the pickup while a third spoke on a radio.
“I’ll do the talking,” said Amos, getting out.
“Fine by me,” said Dalton.
Kizzy went to get out as well, but Amos waved her back. She frowned in response.
By the time Amos was a few feet away from the metal-linked fence, he had learned that the man on the left lost his sister to the scourge, and hated being a guard, while the man on the right was stealing extra supplies for his family, and the man with the radio wasn’t what he seemed.
“Amos Reed. I’m with my two friends, we have come a long way to get here. Can we come in?”
“Any of you infected?” said the radio man.
“Nope, no infected people here. We’re all clean and human.”
“Right… well, you can come in, but you will have to stay in this here area. It’s to make sure you really aren’t infected. You okay with that?”
“Sounds fine, whatever you say.”
The man nodded and the gate slid to the side. Amos rejoined the pickup and they slowly drove across a muddy dirt track, stopping beside one of the long huts.
Amos could hear a garbled mess of interest from those in the buildings around them. He and the others got out.
“Name’s Art Greene,” said Art, holding his hand out to Amos who briefly shook it looking a bit awkward.
Art decided not to shake the hand of the big man, and went to walk on when Kizzy grabbed his hand. “Umm, nice to meet you too, young lady.”
Kizzy grinned from ear to ear.
“Right, well all newcomers have to go to ‘admin,’ so that’s just this way.”
Art walked on ahead as they followed behind.
Amos tried catching the thoughts of those who were watching, but like gnats on a summer night they were gone before he could.
Art knocked on the ‘admin’ buildings door, and they all walked inside. This hut, instead of being full of beds, was full of desks and filing cabinets as well as five people who all looked up as Art and his new friends walked inside.
“Bee busy?”
“Ha! Busy bee!” said Kizzy, laughing.
Amos stifled his own laugh.
Before one of the clerks could answer, a door opened at the back of the room and Bee walked past the desks with her usual large smile. “Are these three new?”
“They are just—”
Amos’s expression was frozen on his face. Images of uniforms, not those belonging to the forces of the old government, but those belonging to the wannabe version owned by Copeland, flashed before his eyes. He looked at the friendly looking woman in front of him, and knew she was working for Copeland.
“—Arrived,” said Art.
“Well you all look in good health so that’s good. None of you are infected or have come in contact with vamps recently?” said Bee.
“Nah,” said Dalton.
Kizzy noticed Amos’s expression. “What’s up with you?” she whispered.
“Are you okay, young man?”
To him, this woman was an open book. He saw how she was found wandering the streets of her home town after most of her family had been killed by vamps. Copeland’s people found her, took her in, made her feel safe, then put her to work. It made him hate Copeland even more.
Amos forced a smile. “I’m just relieved to finally be here.”
“Ah, well, you are all safe now… or as safe as anyone in this world. But you will all have to stay in the quarantine area for a few days just to make sure none of you turn.”
Dalton frowned. “We told you we ain’t infected.”
Bee smiled. “And I believe you, but we have rules, and the rules need to be followed.”
Dalton nodded.
“Okay then. Let me show you to where you’ll be staying. In fact, it will be with some soldiers that arrived today, so hopefully that will make you all feel even safer!”
They all followed Bee and Art outside, and walked a short distance to the long, white painted building. One of the soldiers Bee mentioned was sitting on the steps which led to the front door, smoking.
Bee frowned as she approached him.
“Yeah, yeah,” said the soldier, throwing it to the ground and rubbing his boot on it. He then got to his feet and Bee and the others walked in
side.
No…
Amos looked directly at the woman who was in charge of the ‘soldiers.’ Her mind was full of death, destruction, and Copeland.
Is this whole camp run by Copeland’s people? We’re trapped! Will they recognize us?
Amos stood rooted to the spot in the doorway as the others walked forward and sat on their allocated beds.
Kizzy bounced up and down on hers a few times then realized Amos was not with her and looked back at him with confusion.
Carla got up from her bed and walked to Amos. She held out her hand. “I’m Carla.”
Amos took her hand briefly. “Amos. These are my friends. Dalton and Kizzy.”
Carla looked at each then returned to Amos, he shrunk a little from her gaze.
Dalton sat forward, noticing Amos’s reluctance to fully enter the space. “Everything alright, Amos?”
Amos searched Carla’s mind for any hint that she knew who they were. He found none.
He smiled and walked past Carla. “Yeah, just taking it all in. Finally, a proper bed.”
She watched him in silence as he walked to the camp bed, already made with gray and green sheets.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The sun was below the horizon but still provided enough light for most of the humans to see adequately.
Joel stepped out of the long hut, a satchel over his back and walked along the sodden path to the first of four pickups waiting at the inner gate.
Art was waiting in the driver’s seat. “Get your people in as quickly as you can, it’ll be dark soon and we like to have these inner gates closed by sundown.”
Joel nodded and waved the others across. Soon, the convoy was moving along the same forgotten freeway that he rode the day before, and Art was equally as quiet.
“So, how long you been in Westlands?” said Joel.
“Been here since the early days. I was an electrical engineer before it… well, before it all happened. The electric fence was my idea. Myself and two old friends managed to get the first version up and running.”
“It was a good one. If we had that in Haven the town might have survived.”
“Haven?”
The four trucks pulled onto a smaller road which headed directly past stores and businesses. The gray-blue of the coming night reflected in multiple glass windows.
