Zombie Apocalypse: The Chad Halverson Series

by Bryan Cassiday

  “Supplies?” exclaimed Reno in outrage as he gasped for breath. “We’re lucky to be alive and all you can think about is supplies!”

  Winded, he trotted up toward Bascomb.

  “Your mission was to go foraging and haul your take back to the boat,” said Bascomb.

  “We got bushwhacked by ghouls,” said Reno. “We had to defend ourselves.”

  “That’s no excuse.”

  “We don’t have to make excuses to you.”

  “You failed your mission.”

  “Fine.” Reno threw up his hands. “Have it your way. We failed our mission. Now can we get the hell out of here before those things eat us?”

  “Your attempt was pathetic. We ought to leave both of you behind for failing to pull your own weight in our community.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” said Halverson, bracing himself for a fight with Bascomb.

  “Your community is screwed if this is the way you treat people,” said Reno.

  Bascomb stared at the two of them in silence.

  “I grant you permission to come aboard,” he said at last. “We’ll hash this over later, back at the island.”

  Halverson and Reno hopped off the pier into the Zodiac that was now crammed with cardboard boxes as well as with men.

  For the first time, Halverson noticed the steel shaft of an animal grabber projecting over the boat’s inflated port gunwale. At the end of the grabber wedged in its steel tongs a black-haired male ghoul with a receding hairline was suspended by its throat. The creature had a long aquiline nose that looked like it had been broken once or twice when the creature had been human.

  “What’s that all about?” asked Halverson, indicating the ghoul in the water.

  “We saw him murder a small child,” answered Bascomb. “He’s going back with us to stand trial.”

  “Why didn’t you just blow the ghoul’s brains out?” said Reno.

  “That’s not how we do things here. That’s why I’m in charge and not you.” Bascomb jabbed his thick forefinger at Reno as if to emphasize the point.

  The herd of walking dead had now arrived at the quay and was plodding toward the Zodiac.

  “I suggest we get out of here while there’s still time,” said Halverson.

  Bascomb ordered one of his men to untie the Zodiac’s painter from the bollard on the dock just as a male ghoul Halverson figured for at least six three made ready to step onto the boat. The creature wore a Hugo Boss black suit with a lavender watered silk tie. The creature had a large worm-eaten head that unleashed a hideous grimace of disgust with rotting green teeth.

  Halverson could see maggots squirming around the creature’s teeth.

  “Push off!” commanded Bascomb.

  At the tiller, Kobe Jones started the Evinrude and set sail.

  The suit stepped off the dock and, instead of landing in the Zodiac, dropped into the sea with a splash and disappeared into the murky depths.

  Halverson watched half a dozen more ghouls plummet off the end of the quay into the ocean.

  “If they had half a brain they’d be dangerous,” said Reno.

  Nobody on the boat said anything.

  As the Zodiac plowed through the choppy seas, Jones had to keep compensating at the tiller for the craft’s drifting to port courtesy of the ghoul hanging from the end of the animal grabber into the ocean.

  Halverson could make out the ghoul’s bedraggled head as it desultorily bobbed above the ocean’s surface.

  “It’s getting a bath whether it likes it or not,” said Reno.

  “Maybe the ocean will wash that stink of death off of it.”

  “I don’t think anything can wash that stench off.”

  The boat suddenly jerked hard to port, all but throwing several of the passengers head over heels off the hull into the drink.

  Halverson snagged the rope along the top of the gunwale just in time to save himself from an unscheduled dip into the ocean.

  Reno wasn’t so fortunate. He fell backward so far that his head plunged into the ocean. As Reno clung to the hull for dear life, Halverson reached over and snatched Reno’s arm, making sure Reno didn’t fall off the boat.

  When Jones righted the boat on course, Halverson hauled Reno’s torso up out of the ocean.

  As he sat up Reno shook his sopping head like a wet dog trying to dry its fur.

  Chapter 37

  “What happened?” asked Reno between coughs as he cleared seawater out of his mouth. He spat saltwater into the ocean.

  Halverson shook his head. “It felt like we hit something.”

  “Is everyone OK?” asked Bascomb.

  Discomfited looks on their faces, the men nodded.

  “What went wrong, Kobe?” asked Bascomb.

  Puzzled, Jones answered, “We hit something on our port side.”

  “I thought I saw a shark fin,” piped up one of the men, a short wiry guy wearing thick black plastic-framed glasses.

  “Are we taking on water?” asked Bascomb.

  The men inspected the craft, searching for holes in the hull.

  “I don’t see any leaks,” answered Jones, running his eyes along the length of the boat.

  “Nothing over here,” said Halverson, scoping out the area near him.

  “Nothing,” echoed another man at the prow.

  Bascomb nodded. “We’ll give her a thorough checkout when we land.”

  Minutes later, Halverson, Reno, Bascomb, and the others disembarked on Alcatraz.

  “You two hand over your guns,” said Bascomb, singling out Halverson and Reno.

  Halverson and Reno exchanged looks.

  Bascomb held his hand out.

  Halverson was reluctant to part with the AK. He would rather have a Heckler & Koch MP7, his weapon of choice as a black ops NCS agent, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. The AK would do in a pinch. It was a simple gun that didn’t jam easily.

  “Are we being punished?” asked Reno.

  “Nobody carries guns on the island except for the security detail,” answered Bascomb. “You know that.”

  “Then we’re not being punished because we didn’t bring back any supplies?”

  “That has nothing to do with it.”

  Reno handed his AK to Bascomb. “It’s not much use now anyway. It’s empty.”

  Bascomb accepted the assault rifle. “We heard gunfire. That was you?”

  “We were attacked. We had to defend ourselves.”

  “Did you kill anyone?”

  “I’m sure I killed some of those things. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be standing here now.”

  Bascomb turned to Halverson, who still had not handed over his AK to Bascomb. “Did you see what happened?”

  “Of course,” answered Halverson. “I was with him and doing the same thing.”

  “Killing the infected?”

  “It was kill or be killed.”

  “You believe Reno acted in self-defense?”

  “No question about it.”

  “And you,” said Bascomb, facing Reno. “Did you witness Halverson killing the infected?”

  “You better believe it. Scores of ’em. He’s a damn sharpshooter, he is.” Smiling, Reno winked at Bascomb.

  “Did he kill them in self-defense?” asked Bascomb, stone-faced.

  “Of course, he did. What’s this all about?”

  “I don’t have any other witnesses to the killings. If you two murdered the infected, you’ll have to stand trial.”

  “We didn’t murder anyone,” said Halverson.

  “I have no witnesses to the contrary at this point. You’re both vouching for each other. I’ll have to take your word.”

  “Thanks for nothing,” said Reno.

  Bascomb motioned for Halverson to hand over his AK.

  Grudgingly, Halverson complied.

  There was nothing he could do about it, he decided. Putting up resistance would probably get him clapped in the joint. He would have to bide his time, waiting for a chance to arm himself
. The idea of being on Alcatraz without a gun didn’t appeal to him, not with this guy Bascomb calling the shots.

  Halverson heard a commotion on the quay. He turned to see what it was.

  As did Bascomb.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  Jones was hefting the animal grabber out of the ocean with the ghoul suspended from the end of it.

  As the ghoul’s figure broke the water’s surface, Halverson saw that the ghoul from the waist down was missing. Intestines were spooling into the ocean out of the ragged hole in the bottom of the ghoul’s torso. What was left of the creature was squirming at the end of the animal grabber.

  “Christ,” said Reno. “A shark got the ghoul. That must’ve been what we hit out there.”

  “What do we do with him now?” Jones asked Bascomb, levering the ghoul up with the animal grabber.

  “Dump it into the ocean,” answered Reno with disgust.

  “No,” said Bascomb. “He’s still alive. As long as he’s still alive, he has to stand trial.”

  Jones looked none too pleased with Bascomb’s answer. Nevertheless, Jones hauled the creature along the quay.

  The ghoul clawed the air as it writhed at the end of the animal grabber, leaving a trail of its oozing viscera behind. A ghastly rictus on its face, the creature bared its decrepit teeth and wriggled its leathery tongue in its mouth. Sallow drool slobbered out of the corners of the ghoul’s gaping mouth.

  “Man, if that thing’s alive, I’m Tiny Tim,” said Reno, whipping his head away from the creature, sick of looking at it.

  Chapter 38

  Bascomb told his men to unload the boat.

  Halverson and Reno were going to pitch in, but Bascomb nixed it.

  “You two are with me,” said Bascomb.

  “To what do we owe this honor?” Reno muttered with a smirk to Halverson.

  “What? I didn’t catch that,” said Bascomb.

  “Where are we going?” asked Reno.

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Reno shrugged and followed him.

  Wondering what Bascomb was up to, Halverson did likewise.

  Halverson and Reno lagged behind Bascomb as they ascended the path that cranked back to the prison. Halverson could sense that Reno was hanging back eager to talk to him. Halverson dragged his feet to stay in step with Reno.

  Jones brought up the rear of the procession, holding the animal grabber away from his body so the gyrating remains of the ghoul could not bite him.

  Out of Bascomb’s earshot, Reno said to Halverson with a chuckle, “How did you like getting chewed out by JB, you pathetic failure?”

  Halverson chortled. “JB can take a long walk off a short pier.”

  “The guy’s a piece of work,” said Reno, sneering at Bascomb’s back as the man swaggered ahead of them. “His social skills seem limited.”

  “Not an easy guy to get along with.”

  “Let’s round up the others and split from this place,” said Reno under his breath.

  Halverson was of two minds. The island was safe from the walking dead, he knew, but it wasn’t safe from Bascomb. It wasn’t clear what Bascomb’s plans were. It could very well be that Bascomb was more dangerous to him, Reno, Victoria, Parnell, and Brittany than were the zombies.

  When they reached the entrance to the prison, Bascomb summoned Halverson and Reno.

  “Follow me,” said Bascomb, pointing at them. “Kobe, lock the suspect up.”

  Kobe nodded and ushered the ghoul to A Block as they all entered the cell house.

  Bascomb led Halverson and Reno down Broadway in B Block.

  Walking down Broadway, Halverson made out residents sitting in cells on his right and left. When the residents espied Bascomb, they stopped talking to each other. Halverson found their silence in the presence of Bascomb strange. In fact, he had noticed on the Zodiac that nobody had talked to each other either.

  Halverson was liking Bascomb less and less.

  Bascomb proceeded to the end of Broadway and hung a left on Times Square. He headed under the West Gun Gallery and took a right into the stairwell located a few feet before the catwalk entrance to the gallery.

  They emerged on a cement concourse that ended in a short flight of steps twenty-odd feet long and a foot wide that led at a slight angle to the exercise yard.

  “Here’s the yard,” said Bascomb.

  In the middle of the yard, workers were digging a large pit. At the bottom of the pit were a chugging front-end loader and numerous sweat-soaked men and women wielding shovels. Looming over the recreation yard was the nearby water tower.

  “Is this your idea of exercise here?” asked Reno.

  “It does keep people busy,” answered Bascomb. “You know what they say about idle hands.”

  “Is there any point to this big hole?”

  “Actually, there is.” Bascomb paused for effect. “We’re digging a bunker here.”

  “Why, may I ask?”

  Bascomb slewed toward Reno and looked him straight in the eye. “When the government nukes us, we’ll be ready for them.”

  Reno hiked up his eyebrows in surprise. “Why would the government nuke this place?”

  Bascomb heaved an impatient sigh. “The government can’t stand any kind of competition. If you’re not part of their group, you’re against them and must be destroyed.”

  “You’re taking paranoia to new heights.”

  “Let me make this simple for you to understand. If you’re not with them, you’re against them.”

  For his part, Halverson understood Bascomb’s wariness of the government. Halverson knew for a fact that the government was trying to kill him. They had been trying ever since they had learned Halverson knew about their funding of the experiment in Rotterdam that had created the mutant strain of H5N1 that was responsible for the pandemic.

  “I can’t understand for the life of me why the government would be afraid of you and your little contingent here on Alcatraz,” said Reno, scratching his head.

  “If they know we can exist without them, they’re afraid of us,” said Bascomb. “They fear the self-sufficient and must destroy them as competitors.”

  “So building a bunker is your answer?”

  “It is. Do you have a problem with that?”

  Reno scanned the workers digging in the pit. “No. At least it keeps them occupied. After all, what else is there to do around here?”

  “I’m glad you feel that way. Then you won’t have a problem joining them.”

  Reno bridled. “I don’t have a problem with hard work—if there’s some reasonable point to it.”

  Bascomb squinted at Reno. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means I’d rather be employed on your foraging missions to the mainland.”

  Bascomb stepped away from Reno and surveyed the workers shoveling and wielding picks below. The clangor of the steel tools striking earth and rocks resonated through the air.

  “You already tried out for the foraging party,” he said.

  “And?”

  “And you couldn’t cut it. You failed your mission.”

  “I didn’t know I was being tested.”

  “We employ people at what they do best. We need you to dig the pit.”

  “What about your security guards? I’d rather join them.”

  “They’re handpicked by me.”

  “Everybody’s handpicked by you.”

  Bascomb advanced on Reno. “Are you questioning my authority?”

  Realizing that discretion was the better part of valor, Reno managed to put a lid on his temper and backed off.

  “No,” he muttered. “I’m only trying to understand how things work here.”

  “They work how I want them to work for the good of the community.”

  Halverson sighed.

  He was tired of listening to Bascomb’s circumlocutions. Obviously, Bascomb had it in for them. Halverson and Reno weren’t going to get any of the plum jobs on th
e island. Of that Halverson was certain. Maybe Bascomb was afraid of them. Halverson didn’t know.

  Be that as it may, Halverson decided the best option was to play along with Bascomb for the time being. Bascomb held the trump hand. He had an armed security force at his disposal. Outnumbered, Halverson and Reno didn’t even have guns anymore.

  “What do you want us to do?” asked Halverson.

  “The community needs you to work in the pit and do your fair share,” answered Bascomb.

  When one of the workers in the ditch wiped his sweaty brow with a handkerchief and looked up at them, Halverson recognized him and started.

  Chapter 39

  “What’s Doctor Parnell doing down there?” asked Halverson. “He’s a professional doctor, not a ditch digger.”

  “We need more diggers than doctors at the moment,” answered Bascomb. “Right now the infirmary is empty.”

  “It seems like you could come up with a better use of your manpower,” said Reno.

  “Not the way I see it.”

  Reno gave up arguing with Bascomb. “What do you want us to do?”

  “Go down in the pit and start digging.”

  “It’s off to work we go,” said Reno and whistled tunelessly heading for the stairs that led down to the yard.

  “There are plenty of shovels and other tools in the pit.”

  From the yard, Reno and Halverson climbed down the earthen steps that led to the base of the pit.

  As they descended they saw across from them a heavyset sweaty man struggling to push a wheelbarrow loaded with dirt up a gradient that issued from the pit.

  “Why doesn’t Bascomb do his fair share of this scut work?” Reno asked Halverson sotto voce.

  “He’s the Chosen One,” answered Halverson. “He doesn’t want to get his hands dirty.”

  “I’ll be back to check up on your progress later in the day,” said Bascomb from above. “Hopefully, you two will work out better here than you did in the foraging party.”

  “Is he gone yet?” Reno asked Halverson.

  “Yeah,” answered Halverson.

  “I thought he’d never leave.”

  Once he set foot on the floor of the pit, Halverson made a beeline for Parnell.

  Parnell stopped shoveling for a minute and nodded at Halverson.