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

by Steven Ramirez

  The command center was a dizzying blur of activity. We took special care with the children, the elderly and the convalescing, since they couldn’t move as fast as the rest of us. Pederman decided it was best to leave as much behind as possible—and to only focus on saving lives. It was a good call. Isaac made sure we took only the medical supplies we needed for the short trip. We didn’t have nearly enough vehicles to transport everyone. Two Black Dragon soldiers would be in charge of each vehicle, fitting in as many people as possible.

  Making multiple trips was out because once we left Tres Marias, whoever was running Operation Guncotton would figure out what we were up to and try to put a stop to it. Pederman would keep our squad together on one of the helicopters, since we had Griffin, Fabian, Holly and Greta. Black Dragon personnel would be flown out using our two remaining helicopters. Once our vehicles were filled, a small number of soldiers would remain, in addition to the cops we arrested. We’d employ police cruisers to evacuate the last of them.

  Things went faster than I thought, and we were ready to move out by ten p.m. Pederman radioed the checkpoints to ensure that no one was approaching. Everything was clear. The vehicles would converge on one of the checkpoints. For weeks, the freeway had been blocked for five miles in each direction. Detours were set up for cars to use surface streets.

  We randomly assigned civilians to the vehicles, taking care to keep families together. Holly, Griffin, Fabian and I assisted. Out of respect, we placed the mayor’s wife and sons in the first vehicle. As we loaded them up, Hannity walked over.

  “I’d like to drive them,” he said.

  “One of our guys was going to do it,” I said.

  “Please. They were my responsibility.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You don’t. But, like you, I care about surviving. I’ll look after them.”

  Pederman came over to check on things. I let him know about Hannity’s request. He looked the cop in the eye, as if trying to see into his soul. “Fine. But this is the lead vehicle. You must stay in formation.”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  Isaac was making a final inspection of the medical supplies at the rear of an LMTV when I walked over and told him it was time for him to board a vehicle.

  “I’ll ride with the supplies,” he said.

  “Fine by me. But don’t steal any drugs.”

  “Dave, I want to tell you something. This whole situation has been impossible. Many men wouldn’t be up to it. I want you to know I appreciate everything you’ve done. You’re a good man. I’m so proud of you.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I’d known Isaac my whole life. In some ways he was like a second father. Smiling, I shook his hand. “Thanks, Isaac,” I said. “Get in the truck.”

  “Yes, sir.” We both laughed and hugged.

  “We have room for two more in here,” Holly said, pointing to one of the vehicles. Griffin and Fabian signaled to another man and woman, an elderly couple, who got in. We were getting close to the deadline and trying to speed things up, but when the Zimmers appeared, I personally took charge and placed them into another of the vehicles.

  “Thanks for everything,” Steve said, shaking my hand. “I mean it.”

  “All part of the service.” I reached out and touched Evan’s little hand. “She’s grown.”

  “Getting heavier every day,” Nina said. She put a hand on my arm, looking from Holly to me. “I hope we can stay in touch.”

  “Sure.” But I knew in my heart that once this was over we would never see them again. That’s how life worked. People thrown randomly together under unusual circumstances and blown apart by time and distance. It was for the best. Many people I had become friends with over the last few months were dead. Better to say goodbye and be done with it. “See you around,” I said.

  “Can’t wait to hear about the baby!” Nina said to Holly.

  Pederman directed the vehicles to enter the onramp after the detour with their headlights off. To reduce the chance they would be spotted, he ordered them to leave in groups of six. It would take longer, but it would be safer that way. After they got to the onramp, they would turn on their headlights and proceed to Redding with the rest of the nighttime traffic.

  Once the vehicles were safely away, the helicopters would fly out. I didn’t know what would happen once we got to Redding. Things were moving so quickly, nothing seemed real. Before I knew it we were heading out—first the line of military vehicles, followed by the police cruisers and finally the helicopters. We’d left nothing to chance. We were careful and we were armed. We’d proceeded slowly, instead of rushing. We’d done everything right.

  Then reality set in.

  THE FIRST ATTACK CAME when our lead vehicle—the one carrying the mayor’s wife and sons—was making its way to the onramp. The rest of us—waiting behind at the checkpoint with the remaining vehicles and helicopters—saw it happen. The ruthlessness of the forces we were engaged with was never more evident than at that moment. There was nothing we could do to stop it.

  From out of the darkness a black helicopter—not one of ours—rose and hovered menacingly near the onramp over the Humvee. I remembered Hannity was driving and wondered if he’d somehow tipped off the mayor about our plan. That train of thought evaporated when the helicopter, equipped with an Advanced Precision Kill Weapon System, launched a seventy millimeter rocket that demolished the vehicle in a single burst as helpless screaming slashed the night air like a curtain being torn. The vehicle exploded instantly, followed by angry flames that licked up the interior and engulfed everything inside in white-hot hellfire.

  The other vehicles stopped. As the helicopter turned, positioning itself for a new attack, the other drivers—all Black Dragon soldiers—accelerated past the wreckage, trying to get onto the freeway. The helicopter ascended and followed them.

  “Let’s go!” Pederman said, signaling to our two helicopter pilots.

  The first helicopter was airborne in seconds. Pederman radioed them instructions to take out the attackers by any means necessary. As it approached the enemy helicopter I saw the flash of fire from the machine gun. We boarded our helicopter and were in the air. Griffin secured Greta in a harness. I was terrified that she or Fabian or Holly would be harmed. But there was no time to think about ourselves. Our mission was to protect the remaining civilians.

  Below, the line of vehicles picked up speed towards the final barrier, still a couple of miles away. The freeway was deserted except for our convoy. Banking away suddenly to avoid our guys, the enemy helicopter came around again and fired a second rocket that obliterated the lead Humvee. From out of nowhere two lines of black Escalades appeared and straddled our vehicles. The passengers inside fired automatic weapons, but were unable to shatter the bulletproof glass, and the vehicles held steady. We closed in behind our lead helicopter, whose gunner began firing at the enemy helicopter. The distraction was enough to keep the attackers from destroying another vehicle.

  Then we caught a break. Our lead helicopter fired into the main rotor of the enemy, snapping off the blade, which flew wildly off to one side and sent the helicopter’s fuselage spinning out of control onto the freeway. The vehicles in front managed to swerve around it. A couple of men crawled out of the wreckage. As they stood upright, one of the black Escalades struck them dead on, throwing their bodies to the side of the road.

  It was hard to hear inside our helicopter. The pilot, as well as Pederman and Warnick, wore aviation headsets in order to communicate. I could hear them talking, but they couldn’t hear me.

  “We need to get those Escalades out of the picture!” Warnick said to me.

  “How do we shoot without hitting innocent people?”

  Pederman turned to me and exposed an ear so I could repeat the question. “Not sure this will work,” he said, “but we have to try.” He got on the radio to communicate with the drivers of our vehicles. I couldn’t believe what he was suggesting, but I didn’t have any
better ideas. We would only have one shot at this. If it didn’t work the first time, chances were our people on the ground would be lost.

  Our lead helicopter pulled back to where we were, on the opposite side of the convoy from the Escalades, waiting till Pederman gave the signal. This would have to be timed so no one would crash. We were less than a mile from the final barricade. Soon there would be regular traffic, and more innocent people would be at risk. In our helicopter, one of our guys manned the machine gun. I closed my eyes, waiting to hear the command.

  “On my count …” Pederman said into the radio. “Three … two … one … Brake!”

  Working in perfect synchronization starting with the lead vehicle, every driver hit the brakes and skidded to a stop, surprising the people in the Escalades, who continued on at seventy miles an hour. Both of our helicopters zoomed ahead past our vehicles and opened fire straight down—one on each side—peppering the Escalades from rear to front till every one was destroyed. The bullets tore away the roofs of the vehicles and blasted out the windows. Arms fell out of the broken glass only to be cut off by hot lead. Not a single person in any of the Escalades survived.

  “Go!” Pederman said into the radio, and our vehicles took off once again, accelerating past the line of enemy vehicles, all burning from the inside out.

  The lead vehicle took the last off-ramp, with the others following. They got onto the next onramp with other traffic and proceeded towards Redding and the National Guard armory. Our helicopters were already cleared to land. Using the radio, Pederman continued to monitor the convoy’s progress. Holding Holly’s hand I watched the normal traffic below, hardly believing that we were actually leaving Tres Marias. I felt as if we’d broken out of prison—giddy and free. Miles away from the nightmare that had consumed us since July.

  After we set down, we joined the rest of the people getting out of the vehicles. National Guardsmen greeted us and helped the shaken and injured into the armory. We’d lost two vehicles and a total of ten civilians—including the mayor’s wife and sons. People were in shock and crying from the harrowing escape, though their injuries were minor. Holly and I moved quickly through the crowd, looking for the Zimmers. I spotted them near a wall. Nina was cradling Evan, and Steve stood with his arms protectively around them both.

  “Thank God!” Holly said when she saw them.

  As we approached, Nina wept and hugged Holly. I put my hand on Steve’s shoulder. He was still shaking. “That’s as close to death as I ever want to get,” he said.

  “I’m so glad you made it.”

  I heard a commotion behind me and turned. Guardsmen were taking the Tres Marias cops into custody. Pederman hadn’t let them off the hook after all. I found the LMTV Isaac was riding in and went over to check on him. Painfully, he climbed out of the passenger side as I approached. “How are you doing?” I said.

  “Normally, Dave, I would never say this in your presence—but I need a drink.”

  “You have my permission.”

  Pederman and Warnick found me, motioning for me to follow them into the armory. Before we could enter, an armed Guardsman appeared in the doorway. “I’m afraid you’ll have to surrender your weapons,” he said.

  We looked at each other. Though I had no reason not to trust the Guard, I was skittish about being unarmed. Pederman was the first to hand his over. Warnick and I followed suit.

  “Thank you, gentlemen,” the Guardsman said, and stepped away so we could enter. “These will be returned to you once you leave.”

  Inside, the armory’s commander awaited us. He was in his thirties. Fair and clean-shaven, with close-cropped brown hair and a muscular build.

  “Dave, this is Captain Louis Quincy,” Pederman said.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” I said as we shook hands.

  “Dave’s been an important part of the team, along with his wife, Holly.”

  “Let’s find a room where we can talk,” the captain said.

  I didn’t know whether the Guard was on heightened alert, but there seemed to be a lot of men and women in uniform. Normally, an armory wasn’t busy unless there was some kind of training going on. As we made our way past a large group, Springer caught up with us, bringing along Holly, Griffin and Fabian—and Greta. We entered a conference room and found seats. There were already a number of other uniformed Guardsmen in the room who, out of politeness, stood against the wall so we could sit.

  “I have to say, Kelly,” Quincy said, standing at the head of the table, “when you radioed me, I was pretty stunned. No one on the outside has been in communication with Tres Marias since the quarantine went into effect.”

  Pederman moved his chair closer. “Other than our drone program, all Internet, telephone and cell phone communications have been blocked. Though we believed we were in charge, we … uh … discovered there was another agenda.”

  “Yes, I looked into that. I’ve already been in touch with my senior command, and they are in agreement that, for the safety of the civilians, as well as your people, we need to be involved.”

  “So glad to hear that.”

  “Captain Quincy,” Holly said, “what will you do with the civilians?”

  “We’ve arranged for temporary housing at a number of hotels in the area. Our people will begin escorting them once we’ve processed everyone. It’s my understanding that Black Dragon is working on a more permanent solution.” His eyes scanning the room, Quincy lowered his voice. “Let’s talk about the outbreak.”

  “Everyone here has been tested,” Pederman said. “But the checkpoints have been abandoned, so there is the possibility the infected could escape.”

  “Why didn’t you leave behind some personnel to guard the perimeter?”

  Looking at Warnick and me, Pederman sighed. “Lou, I need to bring you up to speed on Operation Guncotton.”

  For the next few minutes Pederman ran down everything we knew about the mayor and the rest, including the mysterious men in the black Escalades. He provided Quincy with a timeline—including the midnight deadline when the town would be “cleansed.” When he was finished, the room was dead silent.

  Finally, Quincy spoke. “I need to alert the senior command. Where are the mayor and deputy mayor right now?”

  “We think they’re in Mt. Shasta,” Warnick said.

  “At the facility.”

  “You know about that place?” I said, glancing at Pederman.

  “It’s on one of our maps. We don’t know what’s in there, but we are aware of its location.”

  “We have information that it’s inside the Lake Shasta Caverns,” Pederman said.

  “That is correct.” Quincy rose and went to the door. “I’m going to call headquarters. Please remain here until I return.” Before leaving, he ordered one of his men to bring sodas and snacks. The other Guardsmen remained in the room at ease.

  “Can I also get a bowl of water for our dog?” Griffin said. The Guardsman laughed and nodded.

  “Do you think the civilians will be safe?” Holly said to Pederman.

  “They’ll be fine. Just in case, we’re providing extra security at each of the hotels.”

  The Guardsman returned with a cart loaded with bottled water, sodas and various snacks. He set out a bowl for Greta and filled it with water, which she lapped up.

  “Thanks,” Griffin said.

  We sat there quietly munching on potato chips, Cheez-Its, nuts and candy bars. Quincy returned looking grim and took a seat. “I spoke to my senior command,” he said. “They contacted the Governor and let him know what’s been happening up here. Needless to say, he was not pleased. He ordered us to take the mayor and deputy mayor into custody.”

  “Excuse me, but how will you find them?” I said. “We were only guessing they’re at the lab. They could be anywhere.”

  “Our orders are to go to Mt. Shasta,” Quincy said.

  Something was up with Pederman. Warnick turned to him. “What is it?”

  “I want some of our people t
o accompany you,” Pederman said to Quincy. “If you’re going after the mayor, I want to be there.”

  “No disrespect, Kelly,” Quincy said, “but the Governor ordered us to carry out the mission.”

  “No disrespect, Lou,” Pederman said, “but it’s the mayor who is responsible for the deaths of civilians on our watch, not to mention many of my people. If it’s all the same to you, we’ll be going with you.”

  Quincy took a moment, then he smiled. “Well, the Governor didn’t say specifically that you couldn’t accompany us on this mission.”

  “Appreciate the cooperation.”

  I leaned over and whispered to Pederman. “I thought you said this wasn’t our mission.”

  “Things change.” Yeah, this new Pederman was all kinds of cool. “Operation Guncotton commences at midnight,” he said, checking his watch. “That’s in less than two hours.”

  “I’m sorry, but my orders are to stay away from Tres Marias,” Quincy said. “We have neither the manpower or the time to call up more reservists. We are to focus solely on arresting the mayor and deputy mayor.”

  “Don’t forget the police captain,” I said.

  “Is he a part of this?”

  “Like horns on the devil.”

  By the time we got outside and retrieved our weapons, the charter buses had arrived to take the civilians to their hotels. Considering everything that happened to them, they appeared to be holding up well. Most waited patiently, mothers and fathers carrying sleeping children in their arms. Some of our soldiers were already on their way to the hotels. We made our goodbyes short and watched as the people boarded the buses.

  Quincy climbed aboard a military helicopter, along with a squad of eight privates and a staff sergeant. When they were airborne, a second helicopter carrying another squad followed. Everyone was heavily armed. When it came time for our squad to board our helicopter, Pederman had already decided that the mission was too dangerous for Griffin and Fabian. One of our people would drive them to a hotel, where they would remain till we returned.