The Dead Series (Book 2): Dead Is All You Get

by Steven Ramirez

  “Exactly. At first, the doctors thought it was Hantavirus or Ebola. But everyone tested negative for those. Rudy, who has a medical background, went down there to investigate. I tried to find out what I could using public records, talking to immunologists, stuff like that. We explored every angle. Tainted water, drugs, the military. Nothing fit.

  “Then Rudy called me on his satellite phone and told me he’d seen a group of Americans ‘sneaking around’ down there. That’s how he put it. They claimed to be researchers from some NGO and were very reluctant to talk to my friend. You can guess who they really worked for.”

  “Robbin-Sear,” Holly said.

  “Yep. Rudy was persistent, and he was able to get an interview with the guy in charge. He told Rudy that they were there simply as observers. That was bullshit, and Rudy knew it. But he played along in order to get the interview. The next day, he was expelled from the country. His notes, computer—everything—were confiscated. As a result, the paper didn’t allow him to write the story.”

  “What happened to the people in the village?” Griffin said.

  Evie gazed at the ground. “They never said, officially. But all of the bodies were incinerated.”

  My head hurt. I tried sifting through the information, tying it back to what was happening in our town.

  “Tell us about Tres Marias,” I said.

  Evie laid everything out for us, based on all the investigation she had done up to then.

  She and her cameraman, Jeff, had covered the story, getting what information they could from the locals. She hadn’t had much luck talking to Black Dragon, though. Understandable, considering the town was in lockdown mode. At the start of the outbreak, people had begun coming down with the jimmies. At the time it was thought that they’d either been bitten by infected animals or other people—no one was really sure. When they died off, the hordes appeared. And after death, people “turned” by the hundreds, becoming undead things that craved human flesh. There was no evidence, though, that this had happened in Guatemala.

  “When Black Dragon rolled into town,” Evie said, “they got to work burning bodies.”

  Things had really turned ugly when the Red Militia clashed with Black Dragon. It was open warfare in the streets.

  “I was able to get an interview with Ormand Ferry, the leader of the Red Militia. He insisted that the whole episode was a government conspiracy, and he was trying to save the town.”

  After that, things had become too dangerous on the streets, and Evie and Jeff went into hiding. But they continued to investigate. A break came when their news van nearly collided with another van traveling in the opposite direction and driven by a researcher from Robbin-Sear named Larry Evans.

  “He was pretty wound up, if you ask me,” she said.

  They both pulled over to make sure everyone was all right. Seeing the company name on the van, Evie went to work. I could just see her standing there in her fitted blazer, tight skirt and black stilettos, working Larry like a sock puppet.

  Robbin-Sear was a privately funded bioscience technology company. They were under contract—he wouldn’t say to whom—to develop a vaccine to inoculate American troops fighting overseas. He claimed not to know anything about the current outbreak. But Evie pushed hard. That’s when Larry referred her to his boss.

  “I tried getting more information, but it was no use. By then, Black Dragon had quarantined the town. There was no way for Jeff and me to get out. The evac center was overrun, and we needed to find a place to hide. We were lucky enough to discover that satellite building—the one belonging to Arkon.”

  “How long were you there?” Holly said.

  “Weeks. Seemed like forever. We had electricity and running water. Jeff made food runs, bringing back whatever he could scavenge.” She rubbed her eyes. “He kept me alive. One day we found the VTC equipment in one of the conference rooms. Jeff decided to try calling out on it. He worked on it for days, but there was no one on the receiving end. I think it was a total accident that we made the connection with you.”

  “Then someone broke in,” I said.

  “Yes, a horde. We were on the second floor and could hear them downstairs. We barely made it out alive.”

  “And you headed straight for Robbin-Sear?”

  “We were able to get the van out of the city—away from the Red Militia—and into the forest. It was dark by the time we got out, so we slept in the van, intending to drive to the facility in the morning. To meet you.”

  “And you were attacked.”

  “Yes. It was that horde that came after you. They found us. Jeff stayed behind, trying to hold them off so I could get away. I ran and ran—for what seemed like hours—but it was only a few minutes. I got to the top of a ridge and when I looked down, I saw the horde. They were already dispersing, and that’s when I knew they’d … that Jeff was dead.”

  We waited as she choked down her sorrow and took a long, deep breath.

  “When I saw the helicopters, I flagged them down, waving my jacket like a crazy woman. Fortunately, it was red, and they spotted me right away. I knew you guys were headed there too, so I told them to keep searching for other survivors. You know the rest.”

  Holly touched Evie’s hand. Anyone else would have broken down, but this woman held it together.

  “Sorry to get emotional,” she said.

  “So you think these events are connected,” Holly said.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “But how?” I said.

  “Dave, history is filled with examples of the US testing modified viruses and experimental vaccines on its own citizens. I’ll give you one. In 1994, Senator John D. Rockefeller released a report stating that for fifty years, the Department of Defense experimented on military personnel.”

  “Okay …”

  “So what’s to stop them from sacrificing a few isolated villagers in a country nobody cares about?”

  “Guatemala, you mean. But now you’re talking about a town in Northern California!”

  “Why are you surprised, Dave? In 1951, the DOD began open-air tests in this country using disease-producing bacteria and viruses. This continued through 1969.”

  It was too much. I got to my feet and paced back and forth. Ran into a huge cobweb. Pissed off, I swatted it away as the three women stared at me. Then Holly turned to Evie.

  “Are you sure the two things are related?” she said.

  “Positive,” Evie said.

  “Why?” I said.

  “Because the person in charge in Guatemala is the same person who runs the facility here. He’s the one Larry Evans pointed me to. Guy by the name of Bob Creasy.” I froze. “You know him?”

  I turned to Holly. “He was the one who picked me up after my car accident in July.”

  “I read something once,” Holly said. “About the Department of Defense building a special facility to manufacture vaccines.” Then to Evie, “Are you saying these guys are somehow tied to the DOD?”

  “While I was researching that story a few years ago,” Evie said, “I learned that an ex-DOD official is now the COO of Robbin-Sear. A little cozy, don’t you think?”

  I took a seat and ran my hands through my hair. Holly laid her hand gently on my arm. We sat in silence for a few moments.

  “If what you’re saying is true,” I said, “then somehow my friend Jim got mixed up with these guys.”

  “What makes you say that?” Evie said.

  “Because, whatever it is that’s spreading through this town, Jim got it early on.”

  “Dave,” Holly said, “when Creasy picked you up, didn’t you say he was looking for stray dogs?”

  “Yeah. He was especially interested in Jim’s dog, Perro.”

  “That might have something to do with how the virus got out.”

  “You think they were experimenting on animals?”

  “That sounds likely,” Evie said.

  “So do we know what happened to Perro?” Griffin said.

  “He was
out there on the road the night Creasy picked me up. But he got away. And he was definitely rabid.”

  “Why would a government research facility care about a rabid dog?” Holly said.

  “What if he was sick on purpose?” Griffin said.

  Evie looked at the girl intently. “Go on.”

  “My stepdad used to meet with these Red Militia guys at the house, right? Me and my brother, Kyle, weren’t supposed to hang around, but we always heard them talking about this big conspiracy. You know, medical experiments and stuff.” Griffin turned to Holly and me. “What if they were right and someone, like, gave the dog something to make him sick?”

  “Jim was bitten—and not by a human,” I said. “I saw the autopsy photo. To Griffin’s point, Perro could have been infected and bitten Jim. And others too.”

  “But why didn’t people get rabies, instead of whatever this is?” Holly said.

  “I don’t know,” Evie said.

  “So how does Black Dragon figure into all this?” I said. “I mean, normally, the police would be involved and—if necessary—a state of emergency would be declared by the governor and the National Guard sent in, right?”

  “Yes,” Evie said. “Remember the LA riots in ’92?”

  “I was kind of young,” I said. “So Black Dragon shows up. A private security company. Who made that call?”

  “No clue,” Evie said. “All I know is we need to get inside that facility on Old Orchard Road. That’s where the truth lies.”

  “Now that Black Dragon is running things again, I’m not sure how easy that will be.”

  “Dave,” Holly said. “If we join them, we might be in a better position to do something.”

  “I need to talk to Warnick. He’s the only one I trust.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  Holly was right. Everything pointed to Pederman and his damned offer. Unless we agreed to join up, he’d keep us shut out. But being part of the operation would give us access to communications—and more importantly, intelligence.

  It was the only way.

  “We’d like to speak to Supervisor Pederman,” I said to the guard at the entrance to the administration building.

  “What’s this concerning?”

  “Tell him we’re ready to talk. He’ll know.”

  The guard radioed someone who escorted us inside and asked us to wait in the foyer. After twenty minutes, another soldier walked us to the principal’s office. Inside, Pederman was waiting, along with Warnick. On the coat rack hung two fresh uniforms in clear garment bags. And on the floor, two shoe boxes.

  “How did you know our decision?” I said.

  Pederman smiled broadly. “Let’s say we were hopeful.”

  “Welcome to the team,” Warnick said. He extended a hand to each of us.

  “We need you to fill out some paperwork,” Pederman said, handing us each an official-looking packet. “Once everything has been processed, we will issue each of you a weapon. We’re fast-tracking the whole thing. I’ll get up to headquarters and make you an appointment with HR. Someone can be onsite tomorrow to take care of the employment contract and go over your benefits package.”

  “No signing bonus?” I said, skimming the paperwork. I totally wasn’t being serious.

  “I’m authorized to offer each of you twenty-five thousand dollars. Of course, it will be grossed up to account for the taxes.”

  Holly’s jaw dropped as she stared at me. “Oh my gosh …”

  “I think you’re going to like working for us,” Pederman said.

  “Can’t wait to get started,” I said. As I’ve explained before, I’m a good liar.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Pederman said. “Because of the unusual nature of the events over the last few months, we’ll need to interview both of you and take statements.”

  “You mean, like a deposition?” I said.

  “Sort of. But it’s nothing to worry about. We’re trying to gather all the information we can about what happened. Sooner or later there’s going to be an investigation—and possibly lawsuits. We need to know all the facts.”

  “And we won’t be charged with anything?”

  “No. If it makes you feel any better, Warnick and Springer have vouched for your character. They told us their version, which frankly makes you guys look like heroes. But now we need your statements.”

  “Sure,” I said.

  “Fine with me,” Holly said.

  Walking back, I took in the crisp air. The sky was clear and, other than the sounds of the ATVs patrolling the fences, all was quiet. Far off on the outdoor basketball courts, a group of men and teenage boys was enjoying a pickup game. It all reminded me of how things used to be, before the plague.

  As we reached our trailer, Holly stopped and took my hand. “Dave, thank you for doing this. I mean it.”

  “I get the feeling you really want this.”

  “I do. But not for the reasons you think.”

  “Is this another one of those fly-bys and I’m standing here clueless?”

  “No.” She laughed and laid her hand on my arm. “No, honey. It’s just that, well … I’m pregnant.”

  ELATION AND PANIC dizzied me. I didn’t know whether to celebrate or mourn. I don’t normally weave—unless I’m drunk. But I felt myself tilting back as Holly reached for my other arm.

  “Easy there, cowboy,” she said.

  We found a shady spot under an oak tree. A squirrel stared at us from halfway up the light brown trunk, chittering and flicking its tail. I had nothing but love for it as I sat and pulled Holly down next to me. No one wanted to be the first to speak, so we did the staring game. After a few seconds I blinked.

  “Aw!” I said. “Come on, do-over.”

  “Forget it.”

  It was surreal, us sitting under that tree, the sun breaking through white billowy clouds, while not fifty yards away two groaning draggers pressed up against the chain link fence, as if eavesdropping. We were between two worlds, it seemed. The sane and the insane. So far, our choices pulled us towards the former. But that other world was never far away.

  Somehow, Greta got out of the trailer and found us. She lay at our feet and waited for someone to stroke her neck. Some guard dog, I thought. At least the kid will have a pet.

  Holly took my hand. “I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that. I was pretty sure, but the blood test confirmed it.”

  “I wondered why you were acting all weird. How far along are you?”

  “A few weeks. I’m still getting used to the idea. Are you upset?”

  “What? No, I’m … Everything is so crazy. I mean, we’re safe now. But are we going to be able to have that kind of life?”

  I watched as a young recruit hopped off her ATV and skewered the draggers through the head with her bayonet. It was deliberate and routine, like picking up trash in a public park. She wiped her blade on the grass and radioed someone. The cleanup crew probably. Being the new recruits, would Holly and I end up on that detail?

  “Life is always going to be hard,” she said. “And we’ll be dead someday. We have to try to live it the best we can. Raise our family.”

  “Circle of life?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Maybe it was the effects of the killing and the blood and the suffering we’d gone through over these last few months. Maybe it was the glimmer of a possible future where Holly and I might actually be happy. Or it might have been a moment of weakness. But I felt myself choking up with emotion and I had to swallow it all back down and keep it there. We’d been through so much together, Holly and me—barely surviving sometimes. Seeing friends and comrades killed. Experiencing the worst of humanity. And sometimes the best. Losing a part of ourselves, yet becoming stronger together.

  How did a person do it alone in this life? How did they survive? There were so many out there with nobody to help them. And plenty to hurt them. There’s an old French proverb that says God always helps fools, lovers and drunkards.
I could attest to that last category. In my drinking days, I’d been on that lonely road, surviving miraculously from one bender to the next. And I believed that, without Holly, my luck would have eventually run out.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m a pussy.”

  “No, you’re not.” Holly rubbed my shoulders and pulled me close. I could smell her fragrant hair, the scent of her perfect skin. She kissed me.

  “I will always love you, David Michael Pulaski. I know things are hard right now, but that’s one thing you never have to worry about. Got it?”

  Those were words I could happily take to my grave.

  As we made our way to our trailer, Holly holding my hand, Greta bounding ahead like an errant puppy, her tongue lolling out of her mouth, I thought of my baby. Our baby. Would it even have a chance? I knew Holly would be an awesome mother, but what about me? I barely knew how to take care of myself. How would I ever measure up? Be an example?

  Stay sober, a voice said. Good advice. Especially since I knew there were more dark days to come.

  When we told Griffin, she made dolphin noises. Though she’d become a formidable fighter in her own right, there was still the girl in her, filled with a tenderness and hope that only the young can feel. Perfect big sister, I thought.

  “When will you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” she said.

  “It’ll be a while,” Holly said. “Four to five months.”

  “Can I name it? Holly, please? Say yes.”

  “What?” I said. “Griffin Jr.?”

  She laughed, then became serious. “Or Kyle?”

  “After your brother,” I said. “Very cool.”

  “Holly, they’re not gonna, like, send you out on patrol, are they?”

  “Hey, I’m not crippled. I got moves.”

  Holly pretended to round a corner, holding an imaginary weapon out in front of her. I sneaked up behind her and poked her in the ribs with my index fingers, sending her through the roof. It was one of the things I loved most about her—her ticklishness.

  “Oh, you did not just do that,” she said.

  Now everyone was tickling everyone as Greta barked and spun in circles.

  A knock at the door put a stop to the hilarity. It was Warnick. “Sorry to barge in,” he said.