The Rotting Souls Series (Book 4): Charon's Coffers

by Ray, Timothy A.

  “I thought we were going to die,” Alicia confided in a soft voice, glancing around as if worried someone would hear her admission.

  “We almost did,” she responded in kind, not knowing why she was whispering, but why did it matter? “The important thing is to get back, regroup, and see what needs to be done. I don’t like it, but the only other choice is to leave. I’m not ready to do that yet.”

  Alicia was silent for a few minutes, the walk in the dimly lit tunnel somewhat soothing after the chaos they participated in. “You mean because of Joseph?”

  She bit off a retort, let it slide, then let out a deep breath. “No, because no one in here has tried to force themselves on us. We have better chances at keeping ourselves safe now that that shithead has been caught and no one else is gunning for us. I think things are going to settle down now.”

  “They haven’t since we got here, why would they start now?” Alicia snorted. “It’s been one thing after another.”

  “It’s been like that out there as well and I bet you we’ve still fared better than the rest. We can give it a week, maybe two, and see if things simmer down. If not? Well, we’ll hijack that Humvee and get the fuck out of here,” she replied with a malicious grin.

  “Now that’s what I’m talking about,” Alicia cooed back.

  Chapter 22

  Conditions

  Todd

  Compound 2

  Sam sat across from him, her hand upon his, fingers tracing where the straps kept him bound. “Are these really necessary?”

  “Ask him,” he responded, nodding at the soldier walking through the door.

  Rankin eyed him, then looked to the woman seated across from him. There was a judging look in those eyes, one that he’d seen thousands of times whenever anyone found out the lifestyle that he had chosen to lead.

  So be it, he didn’t need the man’s approval anyway. “How long you going to leave me tied up like a hog awaiting slaughter?” he snarked, returning the man’s cold glare.

  “Until I can be sure you won’t immediately jump up and try to kill my prisoner,” Rankin responded. “He’s in my custody and I’ve been ordered to bring him back to Montana—alive.”

  He gritted his teeth and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t relax his jaw. “Get what you need from him, then leave him with me. You can be assured he’ll get the justice he deserves.”

  “Even though I agree with that sentiment, I can’t do that. I sympathize with your situation, but I have orders. In a world gone mad, it’s more important than ever that the chain of command be maintained and commands followed when given. It may be all that saves us from the hordes of undead that have been loosed upon this country,” Rankin returned firmly.

  “Because of him,” he spat back. “He doesn’t deserve mercy nor compassion. He deserves to be eaten alive by the monsters that he created.”

  Rankin smirked, “that may still happen. Just not here.”

  He looked away and tried to focus on Sam. She was sitting there, trying to keep a smile on her face, trying to lend comfort through strength of will. It reminded him of how much they loved each other and he tried to calm down, it just wasn’t working. “Then what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be heading back home? You’ve got more than you came for,” he argued.

  “Mr. Flaggerty claims that a cure was created, that he will give it to us, but only under certain conditions,” Rankin told him.

  He rolled his eyes. “He’s probably full of shit. He’s like Kevin Spacy at the end of Seven, a complete whack job with his own agenda. Do you really want to stand there at the end screaming what’s in the box?”

  Sam snorted, “I actually got that one.” Movie quotes weren’t her thing, her ability to retain that sort of knowledge not the least bit desirable to her and at any other point he’d break up laughing; but this wasn’t the time for that.

  “I recognize that, but can we really take a chance? My superiors are willing to meet any reasonable conditions as long as he delivers what he has promised,” the man said, keeping his posture firm.

  “Even if it’s to let him go?” he pushed, glancing up at the towering soldier.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Rankin retorted. “Under no condition will that man ever be set loose. Such a thing will not be considered. Not only for what he’s done, but because of what he’s become.”

  “A monster?” he asked sarcastically. They were just going to give the fucker what he wanted, whatever it took to obtain what Sean claimed was a cure, but was probably nothing more than another fuck you. Or worse, a virus more devastating than what had already been released.

  Rankin’s smirk faded, “actually yes. According to my medic, he’s displaying signs of increased hysteria and manic behavior. It’s his opinion that Mr. Flaggerty was infected with some early stage of the virus and it has altered his mental status. That it may be possible, no matter how unlikely, that the man isn’t fully responsible for his actions.”

  “Sergeant, you are referring to a man that faked his own death, snuck out of the compounds, flew to another state, and immediately killed a facility full of his own people just for learning the truth of what he’s done. It’s an act. With him, it’s always been an act,” he returned.

  “That’s why I am here. One of his conditions was that you would not join us on our journey north. Apparently, he’s taken a lot of satisfaction at the thought of cutting you off from what happens next. I’m under orders to make sure that happens. However, nothing was said about you seeing him while he’s here. I want your opinion over his mental status, the man that is versus the man that was. I want your assessment on whether it’s all just for show. How reliable any intel he gives will be, and I’m told that of all the people left, you are the most likely to be able to do that for me,” Rankin told him.

  He let out a deep breath, then met the man’s gaze, “that’s because he’s killed just about anyone else that could have.”

  “Sounds strategic to me, and if that man wants to play games, I’ll make moves he won’t anticipate,” the man declared, stepping forward and releasing the ties that bound Todd to the chair. “Come on, let’s get you some food and something to drink, get the circulation going, then we’ll see what we see.”

  He sat there and tried to decide which route to take. The compliant, helpful route, or the murderous rampage that might get him killed instead. His eyes found Samantha’s, felt the concern flowing off her, and he let out a long sigh and nodded. “She doesn’t leave my side. You want me calm? I need her.”

  “Agreed,” Rankin confirmed with a nod.

  “Then let’s go see what this bastard has to say,” he pronounced, getting to his feet, hands rubbing his wrists as he walked out of the room with Sam by his side.

  Chapter 23

  Debrief

  Monica

  Malmstrom AFB, Montana

  “No one is picking up,” she growled, looking at the phone and powering it off.

  “I’m sure everything is fine,” John tried to comfort her, but froze when he saw the cold stare from Mark. “You don’t know anything yet. Let’s wait to hear it from someone we trust before writing people off.”

  The man with the tie coughed, then looked north. “We really need to be going. I’m sorry about the people you’ve lost, but there are millions out there in the world still dying and if there’s a way we can end this, we need to do it.”

  “You don’t need to lecture me about what’s going on out there. I’ve been there. You don’t look like you’ve done anything but ride in a copter and sit behind a desk. So can it,” she told the eager youth, who’s firm set of mouth and hard stare confirmed exactly what she said. “I’ll try again in a few minutes, okay?”

  Mark’s eyes remained haunted, but he nodded slowly. “This has to be bullshit; has to be. How would Sean get back down to Arizona so quickly?”

  Their escort held his hand out, motioning for them to keep moving, and regretfully she began walking forward
once more. “Mr. Flaggerty maintained contacts with his old company and when the shit hit the fan, he instructed them on where to go, a compound they could hole up in to wait it out. When he needed a ride, he just had to pick up the phone. They were in the air before you even left Arizona,” the man informed them as they came to a tan three-story building with blacked out windows. The door looked new and had several serious locks installed on it, but he opened it without producing a single key and motioned them inside.

  Uneasily, she let herself be led into the bright interior, the white paint on the walls causing her eyes to wince as they struggled to adjust.

  “If you knew that, then why come to Washington at all? Why not just pick him up in Arizona?” John asked, taking the lead. The cop in him was coming to the surface and a curious look was upon his face.

  “We didn’t know, not until he was captured by your people and questioned by ours. We are in the process of interrogating him. When that is over, a decision will be made on what to do next,” the man informed them as he walked into a room halfway down the hall.

  It was as she suspected, an office with an array of computers, desks with papers skewed chaotically across their surfaces, and a large bulletin board that had an array of photos tacked to it. It was strange, seeing her picture up on a wall like that, like she was a criminal in some cop procedural, but she tried to remain calm and collected as she sat in one of the chairs next to a desk the man was moving behind.

  Eric Blair was the name on the plaque, but that didn’t mean anything; it could have been the former owner and not this transient kid in a suit and tie. The man followed her gaze and smiled, “yeah, never did introduce myself. Blair is my name, and I am an analyst at the FBI.”

  “So, not an agent?” Jenn asked as she fidgeted in her seat, fingers drumming the top of her closed laptop, as if they had work to do and was bored just sitting there.

  “Does that really matter anymore?” he grinned, then let it slip as the cold stares greeted his attempt at levity. “Right. So. As I was saying, Mr. Flaggerty attacked your compound, but was eventually detained after the intervention of a paramilitary group you guys let set up shop next door. Seems neither us, nor Mr. Flaggerty were aware of their presence and he was quickly overwhelmed.”

  John shook his head and eyed her, “you’re not going to let me live that one down, are you? Want to shoot me an I told you so now or later?”

  “People are dead, John. It doesn’t matter,” she replied softly, killing the humorous exchange he’d been attempting. Turning to Blair, “so if you have him, what do you need us for? He can take you where you want to go and I’m quite sure the Geneva Convention won’t prevent you guys from making him talk.”

  Blair seemed contemplative, as if choosing what to say, and paused to fiddle with a pencil before deciding to speak. “As much as I can sympathize with why you would say that, torture is not something we would consider lightly. Even in the best circumstances, the information you get is hardly reliable and most likely created to engender the best chance of the victim’s survival. If we want to know where a cure is, torture will create a weave of tales that could prove to be ninety percent incorrect and flights of fancy. If we can avoid that, we will. It’s important that in times like these, we maintain our Humanity, otherwise we are no better than the undead out there roaming the Earth.”

  “You know, whenever someone makes a speech like that, they usually get eaten. Just ask Hardwick about that. A moral compass is akin to a red shirt, don’t you know that?” Jenn spoke up, eyes narrowing. Yet the corner of her mouth lifted a bit and her eyes brightened.

  “He’s so full of crap. The government doesn’t give a shit about civil liberties. If they want something out of him, they’ll get it. Nothing has stopped them before,” Vitarius sneered, glaring at the man as if he was the real enemy, not the zombies eating their way through Mankind.

  Blair frowned at the younger man of their group and bit his lower lip. “You must be one of those anarchist that they invited in. I really don’t understand your hatred of our country, I never have. It is because of our laws, our government, that you are allowed to speak and act the way you do, your freedom guaranteed by the very institution you spit upon. Men and women in service to our country, the very country you claim to love yet hate, are out there right now defending this place from the hordes of undead that have flocked our way. Why don’t you show some respect?”

  “Vitarius, leave it,” she commanded as the younger man to her rear shifted and made to get to his feet. “You two can carry on this discussion later to your heart’s content. Right now, I want to know why we are here, and when we can leave.”

  It didn’t look like either of them was going to back down, but after a stern look from John, Vitarius slammed back into his seat with a softly spoken, “whatever”.

  “Okay, so here’s the thing. Mr. Flaggerty has made it a condition that your husband not be able to come along on a trip to this Ninth Compound and my superiors feel that someone who is intimately knowledgeable about these facilities be there, just in case he tries to mislead us or pull something out of his ass,” Blair told them. “Of those that are left of the original group, I’m given to know that you are the closest to your husband in knowledge of how these compounds are laid out and the systems that drive them. Am I correct?”

  “Well, actually, I’m just as knowledgeable as they are and I am the one that has been working on a similar network for the last five years,” Jenn spoke up before she could answer.

  Blair nodded, “right, I get that. But how much of the construction were you made aware of? Did you personally walk the halls, or did you mainly go between your room and your workspace?” he asked Jenn, not with a bit of sarcasm, just intense curiosity. It was disarming and she didn’t like it one bit. He was about to ask them something horrible, something that she was not prepared for, and suddenly wished that she had never got on that plane to begin with.

  Jenn pursed her lips, “I’ve walked plenty. I used to use the tunnel systems for my morning runs.”

  “Jenn is not going alone,” she remarked with a heavy sigh. “I mean, that’s what you’re after right? A set of eyes to keep an eye on him? Have you considered that I might just kill him the second I lay eyes on him? That any of us would?”

  Blair’s fingers drummed his desk, then his hand disappeared and returned seconds later with a flask. He unscrewed the cap, took a quick sip, then set it on the desk before him. “We have. Though, we hoped that the fact that there might be a cure out there might get you to behave long enough to find it.”

  “I’m not saying that such a thing doesn’t exist. It would be the miracle ending to a horrific story, but I wouldn’t get your hopes up. That man has lied to all of us for the last seven years, about everything. I would not trust a word he says. If, and that’s a big if, there is a cure, what then?” she asked, leaning forward in her seat, glaring severely at the man before her.

  “Then his continued existence will no longer be required,” Blair answered in a firm tone.

  Vitarius snorted, “told you so. Nothing ever changes.”

  She ignored him, then quickly got to her feet and extended her hand. “I want that in writing.”

  “Deal,” Blair grinned, standing to take her hand and giving it a firm shake. “Now let’s get you people some food, I’m quite sure it’s going to be a long day.”

  Chapter 24

  Mania

  Todd

  Compound 2

  The first thing he heard when approaching the med-lab was the hideous sound of laughter. It was enough to send shivers up his spine and even though his hatred was flowing just beneath the surface of his skin, even it hesitated momentarily as laughter echoed along the hallway around him. He had heard the man laugh many times over the last eight years, but there was an edge to this, like an insane clown carrying a battleaxe kind of crazy.

  As if to illustrate the point, the timber of the voice changed as it asked, “want a balloon Georgi
e? They float! They all float!” Then the laughter erupted again. “I can smell you Todd!” came the familiar, yet alien voice and he stumbled to a halt. “The smell of your fear is intoxicating. Why not step in here and feed me some more?”

  Glancing at the soldier next to him, he squeezed Sam’s hand and asked, “is there a feed in there showing this outside hall?”

  Rankin shook his head and chewed his bottom lip. “Last I checked, there were the two men standing guard and two in the room with him. They were ordered to keep him secure and ignore every word spoken.”

  He nodded down the hallway, “so where are the guards?” Rankin’s concerned look told him all he needed to know. “Honey?” he whispered, turning to Sam, “I really need you to go to the lower level with the kids and lock them in a room with you. All of you stay together. Do you have a weapon?”

  Sam’s eyes were fearful and his heart went out to her, but he couldn’t go with her, no matter how much she wanted him to. Yet, she didn’t say a word, simply nodded, leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek; then she was gone.

  “I’d feel much better if you’d unbind my hands now,” he relayed calmly, eyes fixated on the closed door ten feet on his left.

  “Brains! Brains! Send more paramedics!” came that voice again, followed by another round of horrific joyous hilarity.

  Rankin looked to be mulling it over, considering his options, then whipped out a knife from a sheathe on his belt and cut the zipties binding his hands. Then he held the blade out, handle first.

  He reluctantly accepted it and fingered the pommel lightly. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. “I don’t know how he’s getting a video feed on us, but getting the drop on him is out. You got any suggestions?”

  The commander glared at him, “it’s your place, you tell me. I don’t care what my orders are, if that man did something to my men—.”