“Very well. Me and my boys will be waiting.”
Graybeard ended the call and crossed his arms at his lieutenants, all standing by for his orders. Each would receive a handsome share. He had no intention of letting Andy Crawley leave the Dead Zone alive let alone with the gold.
“Get set up; it goes down today.”
“Yes, boss,” all three bellowed in unison before turning to go and make ready.
Graybeard was using a rented pod. He had no account with Digital Adventures, that was one of the bonuses of going rogue. Still, he did not want to take any chances that his “Graybeard” persona could be in any way linked or connected with his actual person or back to his home in in Chicago. Eventually, he would go back. If he were careful there would be no physical evidence that might link him either to his real-life crimes of murder and extortion. Even if suspected, he had a readily available alibi; the Dead Zone was an “adventure.” Part of the RPG was at the least extorting and killing people; it happened every day. His character was only playing its part to get a trophy; it was even part of the algorithm. The more you did battle, killed DEVO’s or others in the zone the stronger you became. He would disavow anything that happened IRL. Without physical evidence linking him, he was home free.
His plan was coming together. Even without the gold, he had been spectacularly successful. Catching Clayton like that with only two of his crew was heaven sent. Crawley and the DEVO’s taking care of the rest of the Crewmen was as well. Graybeard had all the territory previously held by his rival plus what he had with the Day Breakers. The third Outfit would fall in line and join him or perish. When the DEVO’s were wiped out or died off, he would have the city and all of the treasures therein, at least what he could keep from the INFIL-rats, whom he would also do his best to kill off and dissuade from entering his turf.
Both of those battles could go on for years. Graybeard, who loved it so, hoped that it did.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The wrought iron gate separated Haus from the steps leading up to the alley from his bunker, a holdover from his nomad days. The first rays of the morning sunlight lit up the wisps of thin white clouds high in the atmosphere in the otherwise blue sky. The chirping of birds and the fresh morning air added to the serenity that belied the reality of the world outside his safe house. Taking a sip from his second mug of coffee that morning he turned on the scanner to find out what the infiltration teams or other Outfits might be up to. His ears perked up as a series of radio transmissions came over the speaker sending out a general call for assistance from any team entering the Dead Zone that morning. He turned up the volume, ignoring the distant screeching of some creature. The infiltration team comms were chattering about a rig from the “Indomitable Warriors,” now missing following a hellacious battle with the creatures the night before. If the report was valid, he might profit from the aftermath, particularly if the DEVO’s won. He made plans to search the area where the rig’s last reported position was, not far from his location. He wanted to find it before anyone else might; his home turf advantage should put him there ahead of any others who might have the same idea. The Indomitable Warriors might or might not come snooping around, but he wouldn’t stick around to find out. Nor would he render aid; his interest centered around any weapons, ammo or equipment he might be able to salvage.
Haus gulped the rest of his coffee, set his mug down and grabbed the scanner hanging from the hook. After locking the gate behind him, he silently made his way up the cracked concrete stairs leading to the alley, his shotgun at the ready. The neighborhood, comprised of single family homes and small retail businesses like the one under which his bunker, long ago looted and explored, existed. Burned out vehicles blocked both sides of the stairs leading down to the entrance to discourage infiltration teams or other Outfits from driving through the alley and possibly spotting the steps down to the sturdy gate and steel door behind it. Haus pulled a couple of wood pallets over the steps to further camouflage it, something he only bothered with during daylight hours; no one would venture into this area at night, and the DEVO’s used their smell more than anything to find you. Diesel fuel and limestone took care of that and in any event, they could neither break in nor burn him out with the standby UV lights ready to illuminate the alley if they tried.
It was light enough that he need not worry about the creatures coming after him but still double-checked the shadows he passed as he walked around to the street side and the garage next to the collapsed building that housed his bunker in the basement.
The bearded, muscular man removed the locks then rolled the thick garage door up. Checking the dark corners first to his left and his right before moving into the structure. The other entrances, all barricaded looked secure. Still, no one who survived as long as he had in the zone passed a darkened area without first clearing it with the business end of a high-powered weapon. Haus jumped into a pickup truck, one of several that he kept maintained, fueled and equipped inside the garage.
The vehicle whirred to life. Haus turned up a favorite song playing on a radio station broadcasting from across the bay as he pulled out onto the long-deserted street and raced away.
After driving in a wider and wider radius around the rig’s last reported position, Haus found the scene; it was easy to spot. There in the street was the corpse of an infiltration team member, slumped face up over the hood of a burnt-out car where he had been held down and feasted on the night before by some lucky DEVO’s.
Haus got out to inspect the carnage. Torso’s, partial heads and body parts too numerous to count from the creatures were everywhere, centered around an infiltration rig, the frontend impaled on two large steel beams that angled up from the street where they were anchored into the road under the pavement; the vehicle completely burnt.
The DEVO’s had been quite resourceful, using the sharpened ends of steel I-beams like pikes, raising them up and impaling the rig as it raced down the street killing the engine or otherwise disabling it. Once stuck they forced the team members out by setting it ablaze, probably by throwing Molotov cocktails under and onto it. Haus glanced into the interior; nothing salvageable.
Haus walked back to where the dead infiltrator laid and picked up the dead man’s vest on the street a few meters away. It still had plenty of ammo and a few grenades, lucky for Haus. Not so much for the INFIL-rat, who should have shot or blown himself up when he had the chance. These guys always want to fight to the bloody end. Maybe they weren’t so different.
He glanced at the corpse, its eyes wide open looking skyward; even the lids were chewed off. Flies buzzed about it, laying the eggs that would soon hatch as maggots. The skin and flesh gone, torn from every square inch leaving only the bloody sinewy musculature exposed; short black hair remained on the scalp. The only clue that the victim had been an infiltration team member was the equipment and clothing laying nearby; ripped from him by the creatures, who would have lusted at every last shred of flesh.
At least Haus thought the ravaged corpse was a him; other than the short hair it was impossible to tell without further examination. The pale grayish-greenish ooze was already seeping up; it would eventually become a skin of sorts. In another night or two, it would rise, maggots and all and join the other DEVO’s.
“Where’s your mates?”
Haus looked around. He doubted the other members of the rig escaped the same fate.
Squinting his eyes against the early morning sun just over the horizon he had his answer. Leading into a darkened building across the street was a trail of helmets, weapons, tactical vests and the tanker type of suits and boots they all wore, several DEVO’s or parts of them lay along both sides, probably one or more of the team got off a few rounds from their handguns even as they were being dragged away and feasted on. All the items torn from the team members as the creatures dragged them inside where they devoured all the flesh from the unfortunate victims as they did the one in the street.
Haus had little sympathy for any of th
em. They knew the score; they got caught in the DZ after sunset and paid the price. The one advantage that Haus and the other Outfitters had over the infiltration teams was that he had shelters he could retreat to. Which living in the zone 24/7 necessitated.
Leaving their clothing and boots he quickly gathered up the salvageable equipment. It looked like it had been a team of four, and it was quite a haul. Four rifles, helmets, and tactical vests. The weapons were all empty of ammo. Studying the carnage, Haus figured a group of three fought to the last round in their rifles; trying to hold a defensive perimeter of sorts, taking sectors of responsibility after being forced out of their lanced, burning rig.
All the vests still had some full magazines. Haus crouched down to street level. Lowering his sunglasses, he gazed around the large intersection. There was nowhere safe for the team to retreat to; they would have taken up positions in the street, back to back covering sectors of fire while they tried to move as they dropped flares. DEVO’s attacked in a wave of bodies. You could only shoot so many so fast. Reloading in such proximity, no matter how fast, still resulted in the creatures leaping onto you. They had zero fear of death. They were also gazelle fast when closing short distances. Teams would train to fire and reload in a synchronized fashion, covering each other’s sectors while the other reloaded. A good tactic in practice and when you have some cover or at least distance and not hordes of bloodthirsty monsters with no regard to their safety rushing at you. The intersection where the DEVO’s set the trap offered little options to barricade somewhere, that’s why the creatures chose that location and the team foolishly went through it, probably at a high speed.
No doubt as soon as one team member went to switch magazines a creature was on top of him. His buddies would be shooting others just feet away. If they turned to engage the one attacking their comrade the ones in front would be on them. In such a scenario with hundreds or perhaps thousands of DEVO’s surrounding you with no fear of your weapons, save the lights as they charged. It was easy to see how things could go bad quickly once the flares were gone.
Haus guessed that the lone victim splayed over the car had been separated from the others, maybe when they dismounted. He probably was feasted on even as his teammates fought the losing battle. It may have been worse for him, if they were still popping flares then the DEVO’s would flee some distance, leaving him there wounded and wondering if his friends would come and at least make sure he would not rise, only to have the feast with him as the main entree resume when it grew dark again.
Haus shook off all the possible ways it played out as he finished adding up the haul. It was a bit of good fortune, at least for him and the DEVO’s who would gain an additional four bodies.
That equipment would come in handy, particularly the batteries from the rifles and helmets that he could cannibalize; batteries were harder to get for these systems than the ammo to feed them. Since he could not get back to the Crewmen bunkers now occupied by the Day Breakers, he would have to rely on his hidden stash. The Car-50’s especially were an improvement over the shotguns most of the Outfits carried.
The Dead Zone never failed to provide. A creature called in the distance. Haus paid it no attention as he loaded up the pickup truck with the armor plating welded to it.
It took only a few minutes to drive from the ambush site back to the safe house, twenty blocks south of downtown. From the outside, it looked anything but safe. The roof had collapsed in-between the remaining two and a half walls that looked like they were barely standing. Anything that was flammable had long since burned. Many of the buildings in what had been a charming neighborhood with a mix of residential homes and small retail businesses were in a similar condition. All long plundered, neither the Outfits or the teams paid them much attention now. The DEVO’s were sparse in the immediate vicinity but would come in spades if they smelled fresh meat. The fuel that Haus regularly poured around the entrance masked his scent. Regardless, the place was creature-proof, even if it didn’t look that way.
Underneath the commercial grade steel reinforced concrete slab, it was another story from what was above. Haus had converted a large basement that had gone unscathed into a bunker only he knew existed. It had all the creature comforts including a weapons and ammo stockpile, a propane generator and the fuel to run it charging the large battery bank supplying more power than he needed. It was technically in no man’s land not that it mattered to either the DEVO’s or the INFIL-rats. The other Outfits respected no man’s land, well up until recently when Graybeard pulled his lecherous takeover.
Haus pulled a bottle of chilly water from his fridge and sipped from it as he got to work on his plan of action.
“Time to get my gold.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“Andy, I know you’re pissed at me, but we need these guys’ help.” Logan broke the silence as he drove the heavy duty pickup truck through the streets of New Urbes, named after an ancient walled Roman city.
New Urbes was in many respects also a walled city, at least regarding the defenses that it had facing the bay. A triple layer of electrified fencing ringed the waterfront. Massive lights with powerful UV bulbs stood behind it as did sentry towers periodically placed. There was a very real concern in the early days that the DEVO’s would try to break out and cross the bay by boat.
On the other side was what had once been the great city, metropolis really of Jotunheim. The name came from Norse Mythology and referred to the land of the giants. It had been a giant among cities with its colossal buildings, structures, and infrastructure. Now it went by another name.
The Dead Zone.
It was a lovely morning and the breeze going by Andy’s open window brought in the smell of the sea with the crisp air. In the distance, beyond Andy’s open window stood the immense partially collapsed bridge, its reddish-golden paint glowing in the morning sun, wisps of fog moving around the pavement extending now into the choppy water rather than across the channel. It had connected the once great city to the large north island and its power plants, refineries, and warehouse district. The island also contained stately properties that overlooked the ocean on the other side, large residential buildings and retail stores filled out the middle. The government had blockaded that bridge hoping that the virus would not spread there, but it did. It was a different city and a separate county, but everyone just considered it as they did the outlying areas of the vast metropolis as part of the DZ.
Andy gave his friend a weak smile. “I’m not pissed anymore, at least not at you. I’m pissed at whoever has Mia and is so deranged they can’t decipher a digital world from a real one.”
Watching the traffic and people going about their day in the city here, not to mention the salt air of the nearby sea Andy had to admit that it was pretty damn compelling, especially if you rarely if ever leave it to return to the real thing.
“That’s good. I’d hate to have Andy Crawley pissed at me, especially in-world.”
“No worries, you’re my wingman. You’ll need to be on your A-game today.”
“I’m Victor Sierra golden, bro!”
The two rode alone. Calum said that he and Wu would meet them in the Dead Zone if it were appropriate. In the meantime, they wanted Andy and Logan to cooperate with both Outfitters. Andy had no idea how they were going to meet them since there were no teleports in, maybe they would VTAL in, but that could alert the Outfits or maybe not. Still, he had no idea how the FBI agents would even find him. VTAL’s aside most everyone had to go in the old fashion way, as Andy and Logan did now.
The truck slowed before making a right turn then passed through an opening where the triple fenced gates rolled back. Logan drove the pickup truck onto a dock where a guard checked their credentials before waving them onto a ferry boat that would take them across the bay.
Andy got out to stretch his legs. He nodded to several other guys and a few women who leaned against the railing. Members of different infiltration clubs headed to their FOB, or Forward Operating Ba
se and then probably into the zone. Most had their tanker suits unzipped, the arm sleeves tied around their waists as they tried to look relaxed. Andy guessed many of them were new, maybe even going in for the first time. You could always tell that look, trying not to act scared and convince themselves that it was all for fun.
Fun, now that’s a weird way to describe going into a dead city where all kinds of things are waiting to kill you, and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise it was all too real.
“In my case, it truly is. How ironic.” He wagged his head.
Andy’s interlude was brought to an abrupt halt by the buzzing in his ear.
“Crawley.”
“You in-world?” Andy recognized the accented voice.
“I’m working on it, your buddy Graybeard’s handiwork at my condo last night is delaying my jumping in.” Andy lied to Haus as he had Graybeard earlier.
“I don’t give a fuck about Graybeard. If you want to see your girlfriend alive again you better get yourself over here soon.”
“Where is Mia?”
“With my associate. He’s taking good care of her until I say otherwise, or he doesn’t hear from me by a certain time. Straight up Andy, get in here get me my gold and she goes free, simple as that mate.”
“I’m gonna need help getting by Graybeard’s Outfit and his AT-4’s.”
“Piss on Graybeard. Here’s a little bit of info. There were only three AT-4s. The one I nearly got you with, one that got blown up with my other rig by that fuckin Vulcan, and the one Graybeard used to blow a hole in the building. He’s fresh out mate.”
That bit of knowledge was good news, but it also meant that Andy couldn’t use the fear of them as a delaying tactic to get back to Haus until Calum and Wu had Mia safe and sound. The gold was his only bargaining chip, once he gave it up, Haus had no incentive to necessarily release a witness who might later identify him in real life.
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