by Phil Maxey
She wasn’t sure she could do it again. The reserve of despair she was running on was wearing thin. Each face of hope she saw in these camps stabbed at her increasing the weight of guilt which made her sometimes short of breath.
She shivered and rubbed the back of her arms.
A noise of someone walking behind her caught her attention but she ignored it. A guard no doubt.
“Hi,” said Amos, his voice being partially lost in the wind.
She turned. “Oh, hi…”
“Thought I’d go for a walk. If we’re stuck in this area, no point being stuck in the hut as well.” He smiled, she nodded.
What’s this kid want?
“So, how you holding up? Must be some change being on a military base and then here…”
“In some ways it’s the same. You have to do what you’re—”
“I’m an Alkron…”
If he wasn’t so scared of what she might do, the look of confusion on her face would have made him laugh.
She squinted at him. “What did you say?”
“I’m one of those types of infected that you are rounding up and giving to your boss—”
The confusion quickly left her face and she reached to her hip then realized there was no Glock there anymore. All of their weapons had been confiscated when they arrived.
Amos put his hands up anyway. “I just want to talk.”
“What? What about? Why—” She looked around as if someone would come to help.
“I’m not going to harm you… I… Just want to talk… okay?”
She was side-on to him, distributing her weight between her legs, no doubt some kind of fighting stance he thought.
“Keep your distance, kid, I don’t want to use violence, but I will.”
Amos looked behind to see if their display was being watched by any guards. For now, it wasn’t.
He looked back at her. “Yeah, I really don’t want you to use violence either. I don’t heal like other Alkrons do. I’m just like you in that regard.”
“What type are you?” she said, still rocking on her heels, with her hands down, but at the ready.
He pulled his coat’s arm up, revealing his tattoo.
“You’re a telepath?” She looked away. “Shit… you knew from the start, didn’t you?”
Amos sucked in his bottom lip and nodded.
She looked back at him. “Who else knows?”
“Umm… just my two friends.” It was the first time he had thought of as Dalton and Kizzy as friends, and he paused at how strange that felt.
She turned and moved a few steps away. Amos could hear the debate that was raging inside her.
“Umm… I know this might be a strange thing to say—”
She looked back at him.
“—But I want to help you…”
“Help me, how? Shit, you’re reading my mind now, aren’t you?”
Amos had to stifle his own sigh. This was proving to be more frustrating than he thought it would be. He thought she would hit him, or run. “I was a moment ago, but right now, no. I’m not in your head. You can think anything you want, and I won’t know… you have my word.”
She looked at him as if he had just said the most disgusting thing ever then looked away shaking her head. “Wait… what do you mean, you want to help me? How can you help me?”
“Well… I know you don’t want to do the things you have been doing. I know you hate Copeland, and I know that he’s going to attack this camp at some point, like his things have already done to other camps… and you don’t want that… do you?”
The last part he wasn’t a hundred percent sure of, but he hoped it was true. If it wasn’t, he and his ‘friends’ would have a problem.
Without reading her mind, he watched her physically wilt as if she couldn’t escape anymore from her past deeds. She was giving up. He had given voice to her conscience.
“It doesn’t matter what you think I can do. Copeland is still coming. This camp and its human inhabitants will die, like everywhere else.” Her tone was flat. She looked at him. “You think this electric fence is going to stop him? You’re an Alkron, you know the kinds of creatures he has on his side. Monsters that you can’t imagine…”
He sensed her drifting away in thought once more. He took a step closer to her. “There are other Alkrons here and hybrids, I’ve sensed them, and the guy in charge, he’s like a major gangster, they got weapons, lots of them because—” He reached into his cache of stolen memories. “—His gang used to run them across the border. Warehouses full of the craziest shit… and you are key to all of this, don’t you see?”
She looked tired. “Key? How am I key?”
“Because of what you know of the corporation and their plans. If we all work together, maybe Copeland gets his ass kicked and leaves us alone.”
She smiled. “Copeland will never stop. It’s either him or us. Nothing in-between.”
“Then help me make it us.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bee Abbott liked her life in the camp. Her daily chores made her forget what went before. The blood and terror which she found herself in the middle of a few months earlier filled her dreams though, and she would often wake in the middle of the night, her blankets damp from sweat. But then she would look at her bedroom and know she was within the walls; she was safe. And, better than that, she was secretly working to make a better life, not just for those within the camp, but for the entire country.
The Copeland corporation had saved her. Ryan, her husband, and David, her son were both taken by the scourge. The latter being the last to go, and almost taking her with him when after a period of caring for him for weeks he attacked her. Her quick thinking managed to lock him in his room, but he instantly slammed up against it. As she watched the door begin to splinter and his claws tore into the wood, she realized she was alone in the world. She briefly touched the door, mentioned how much she loved her son, then turned, ran down the stairs, picked up her grab bag, and ran out into the night.
She had only made it to the next town over, some fifteen miles away, before her supplies had run out. No matter how hard she looked she couldn’t find a store that hadn’t already been stripped of everything she needed to survive. Eventually, she started drinking from local streams and collecting the rainwater when it decided to fall.
The woman the Copeland Mercs found was only days from death, and the fit, young individuals that placed her in the back of a Humvee appeared like angels to her. She had been given a second chance. After a week of recuperating at a local Copeland base, she found out why she had been given that chance. She was going to help the corporation rebuild America, and after that, maybe the world. Her first job was to go to a camp on the northern border and report back who arrived there. She, of course, asked why she had to do that in secret, why couldn’t those that were at the camp know about the Copeland plan for humanity? She was told they wouldn’t understand. Worse, they might even try to stop the corporation from reuniting the humans that were left. People can be selfish, after all.
Bee sat in her office looking at the military woman standing in her doorway. “How did you get back here? You’re not allowed—”
Carla stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind her.
Bee leaned back. “You can’t be in here…”
Carla leaned forward on her desk. Bee leaned further back. “I’m working for the corporation too!” Carla whispered. She looked around. “Is it safe to talk in here?”
Bee looked down, shuffling some of her papers around on her desk. “Please, leave. As you can see I have a lot of work—”
“Bee! I know you’re communicating with Copeland’s people outside. They told me to make contact with you!”
Bee looked up, her eyes wide. “They did? Nobody told me you were coming. Am I being recalled? Are they not happy with my work? I have been leaving the notes of who has arrived outside the fence as I was told—”
Bee’s attention looked at
the wall next to the door, at the sound of boots thundering along the small corridor outside. Before she could speak again, the door burst open, and a guard ran around the desk, pulling her up from her chair. Art walked in after.
“What are you doing!” shouted Bee.
“We got you, Bee,” said Art. He pulled the radio from his belt. A small light was lit green on the front of it. Carla then pulled her own radio from inside her jacket.
Bee’s eyes narrowed as she looked at Carla. “You tricked me!” Confusion then washed across her face. “But, how did you know? I have been quite careful—”
The guard pulled her from the room and into the office area outside. It was empty apart from another two guards, Holland, Joel, and Amos.
The guard pushed Bee forward until she was just feet from Holland. Her hands fell defiantly to her sides. “I won’t say another word.”
To Joel, Holland looked like he was at just another day at the office. He appeared to chew a few times, despite the fact that Joel had not seen him eat any gum.
“You know, about an hour ago, this kid and this soldier lady come to me with a story so crazy that I had to see if it was true just because, well… it was so nuts! You know what I mean, right?”
She wasn’t sure if she should answer.
“Anyway. And, I know how crazy it sounds, the kid can read minds! Ha! And this soldier lady, she’s working for that crazy, vampire bastard Copeland—”
“Was,” said Carla a few yards behind Bee.
Holland nonchalantly nodded. “Was… and they tell me that the woman that I have put my trust in to look after all the new souls that find their way here, that she’s been working for Copeland since the moment she walked through my gate!” He turned to Art. “Me and Art couldn’t believe it, and trust me, it’s been one of those days.”
Holland nodded to the guard behind Bee who grabbed her by the arm and started to pull her through the hut to the door.
“What you going to do to me? I was doing it for all of you!” She looked desperately at the others as she staggered past them and then outside.
“What are you going to do with her?” said Joel.
“That’s my business,” said Holland, walking towards the door.
“Umm…”
Holland stopped, looking back at Amos. “Yeah?”
“I can help find out more of what she knows.”
Holland nodded, and he, the guards, and Amos left.
Joel went to follow, but Art stopped him. “The boss wants you to move out of those houses. We got somewhere else for your kind to stay.”
“I’m not being put back in—”
“No, no, it ain’t like that. You’ll still be free to move around within the camp, but the boss wants all the hybrids, mind readers, and whatever else there is to be in the same building. There’s a former hotel up on eleventh street that is ready for all of you.”
“What about the others? Max and—”
“If the scientists want to go with you, they can, but they are free to stay where they are if they want. Their choice.”
Joel nodded. He glanced back at Carla then turned and followed Art outside.
*****
The lobby of the hotel was ablaze with candles, lighting the twenty by twenty space. Candleholders of various designs were perched on the long wooden counter, which greeted guests as they arrived, on the chestnut-colored bureau, near the glass entrance doors, and peppered around the small tables which sat between the low-backed chairs off to one side.
The air was smoky and Max and Bill were stifling coughs. Around them, in a few rows of chairs which were arranged in a circle, sat everyone they knew and a good number they didn’t.
To their surprise, it was Joel that started the meeting off.
“Chad has asked us all here, because he wants us to come up with a plan as to how we’re going to stop this town from being taken by Copeland.”
“No offence, Joel. But I’m the most senior military officer here. And I already have a plan,” said Carla, resting on one of the three columns that stood within the large room.
Joel went to respond, but Holland held his hand up. “Let the chick speak. Go on.”
Carla ignored the reference to her as a baby bird, and smiled. “Copeland wants hybrids and the other Alkrons.”
“Alkrons?” said Rachel.
“In the corporation that’s what we call the different scourge types. The most common are the vamps that ended everything. Most of the human population would have become them and Copeland can control them. That’s his thing, his ability… well and he can fly, but mostly it’s controlling the basic vamps.”
Max, as well as the other scientists, raised his eyebrows.
“It would seem you were much further along with your understanding of the—”
Holland frowned at Max. “Later old-timer, right now I want to hear the plan.” He looked back at Carla. “So, how do we stop him?”
She took out some simple pull-out maps of the local area, opened one up, and placed it on the large coffee table at the center of the surrounding low-backed chairs. She then took a pen from her jacket pocket and drew a large ring around the town. “So that’s roughly where the fence is, correct?” She looked at Art who nodded.
Holland leaned back. “If this plan is just build a bigger fence—”
“No, it’s the opposite. The area you have to defend is too big. At least, you would have to match whatever number of forces he comes at you with, and trust me, it will be a lot. There’s a whole lot of vamps eager to follow whatever he tells them to do. He attacked Haven with—”
Joel looked up at her. “How do you know about Haven?”
Her eyes briefly met his then returned to the map. “Because I was there. So trying to defend all that area, you’ll lose before the battle even begins.”
Holland looked at her. “This is where you tell me how we win, right?”
She pointed to a complex of buildings beyond the boundary of the town. “That place is how we win.”
Holland looked at Art then Boyd. “I ain’t going back to that place.”
“It’s a high-security prison. Multiple layers of fencing and walls. Almost impenetrable. Copeland could attack it with ten thousand vamps and still not get into the inner buildings.”
“Did you not hear me clearly, girl? I’m not going anywhere near that place.”
Joel’s attention was still on the map. “She’s right. That’s our only hope. We could fit everyone in the town in there. We could survive.” He looked up at Holland. “If we stay out here, we’re all dead.”
Holland sprang to his feet. “Come up with a different plan.” He turned as Boyd and Art also got up, and they all started to walk to the doors.
“Lillian would have wanted you to be safe…” said Amos.
Holland froze then slowly turned around. The guards had stopped pacing. “What you say to me, boy?”
“Your wife, she—”
Holland pulled a pistol from his belt and started to raise it towards Amos who was now standing, but before the barrel could be aligned with the young mind reader, all six feet four of Dalton stood in the way.
The guards raised their rifles at the mountain of a man who seemed to be growling.
Joel sprang up, and stood in front of Dalton, facing Holland, his gun pushing into Joel’s chest. He looked directly at him. “He’s just a kid, he needs to think before he speaks.”
The anger that was bubbling just beneath Holland’s sweat-covered face, wavered, and he lowered his gun. He then turned and walked to the doors. “I want a better plan by the morning.” He then left, and the guards all followed.
Most in the room let out a breath when Holland’s people were gone.
“Well, that was fun,” said Max.
Carla walked up to Joel who was still looking at the doors. “So, now what. There is no other plan that involves us living.”
“We start prepping the prison. Leave Holland to me.”
�
��He seemed pretty adamant.”
Amos stepped forward tentatively. “Umm… I know where they keep all their weapons, don’t know if that helps?”
Carla looked at Joel. They were both smiling.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Marina turned off the headlights of the truck. In the distance, almost lost amongst the black of night, another set of lights swept across the landscape.
“Just a patrol, looks like they didn’t spot us. Give it a few more minutes to make sure they don’t return,” said Carla, sitting in the passenger’s seat. Behind them were crates large and small of military grade weaponry. There was still plenty left in the large warehouse that they took the first amount from, but they still had eight hours until daylight, plenty of time to get the rest.
Getting it over the fence was going to be a bit tricky, but with the strength of the hybrids, and the other Alkrons, Carla and Joel were confident they could get it all out of the camp.
They had already been driving, keeping to the most shadow-infested roads so not to be noticed while they looked for the lowest part of the fence.
Where Marina had stopped, the fence was only seven feet high, and the roof of the truck they were in was easily a few more feet above that.
Joel had already jumped out, and over the fence, and now they were waiting for him to return with another similar height truck to park on the opposite side.
“You sure he’s going to find another truck out there? Doesn’t seem much out here,” said Carla, trying to make sense of the few artificial blocklike shapes on the horizon.
“He’ll find something,” said Marina. “There are farms.”
Carla briefly looked at the woman next to her even though it was almost impossible to see her in the gloom. “You have a daughter?”
“Yes, Jess. And I look after a little boy—”
“Jasper.”
Marina looked to her right. “You know about him?”
“That was why I was at Haven, to help Copeland get his son back.”
