Bad Company (The Brother's Creed Book 4)

by Joshua C. Chadd

  Tank walked over and gave her a kiss, saying something as Connor walked around to the passenger seat. Soon, Tank joined them and they started off down the road again. It wasn’t that Connor was trying to be a dick. It was just that they weren’t on a normal run. They were going to meet with a group of survivors to trade goods. Emmett had told them about the small colony of people living a few miles to the west of Coutts on the Montana side of the border. It was one of those religious communities where everyone shared what they had and lived in a sort of commune. That was a bit weird for him to think about since it was so alien from how he’d been raised, but now, at the end of the world, it honestly made a lot of sense. The interesting thing about the Red River Colony, as it was called, was that they were almost completely self-sufficient. The leaders in Coutts had received a message yesterday that the community had some fresh vegetables they wanted to trade, so the back of Scourge was filled with the miscellaneous items the colony had requested.

  Connor watched the mix of Marines and Vindex men guarding the gate. Now that he knew who those men in the black uniforms were, he might be able to discover something about them. They just seemed off, like how none of them could be found when they weren’t on duty. Emmett said they’d set up in the large church on the north side of town, but the only time Connor had ever seen them was at the Mess Hall, and even then they came in sporadically. It seemed that they didn’t have to follow the same rules everyone else did. He didn’t like it when people thought they were above the rules. Maybe that wasn’t how they were, but all he’d seen so far had confirmed it.

  After leaving through the gate, they drove to the first overpass south of town and turned right onto a dirt road. Connor barely noticed when Tank turned the music on and Screams of the Undead by Demon Hunter began to play. His mind drifted back to the night before. It’d felt good to have a night like that with all of them together in a situation that didn’t require them to be on guard. It was almost relaxing, and he’d allowed himself to let go and enjoy it. Emmett had joined them later, although he refrained from drinking. It’d been the perfect night—a night none of them should be having at a time like this. A night that he didn’t deserve to have any more, not with the world in shambles and the Reclaimers hunting them. Those good moments just meant that something bad was bound to happen… something really bad. He could almost feel it building in the air around them.

  Shaking those thoughts from his mind, Connor focused on keeping a watchful gaze around them. The Reclaimers were out there somewhere, waiting for them to slip up like the last time. Then, they’d spring on them and do their best to destroy them completely, and he wouldn’t let that happen. Every time they left those gates, he’d be on his guard, expecting the Reclaimers to pop up around every corner. It would be exhausting, but he wouldn’t mess up again. They couldn’t make a mistake like that a second time. It’d been pure luck that they’d even escaped. He’d be ready this time, and as soon as they had any lead on the Reclaimers, they’d take the fight to their front door. Then he’d kill every last one of them.

  Tank pulled Scourge to a stop. Only a few hundred yards ahead there was a collection of white and silver buildings—the Red River Colony. Connor pulled a pair of binoculars from the dash and looked through them as he heard James opening the hatch in the roof. The place looked pristine. Everything was where it belonged and there was no trash scattered around. It looked normal, like the apocalypse hadn’t devastated it. The odd thing, however, was that he couldn’t see anyone outside—not a single person.

  “There’s no one down there,” James said from the roof.

  “Good observation, Captain Obvious,” Tank said.

  In the middle of the colony sat eight white buildings with random barns and outbuildings scattered around those. Four long apartment buildings with seven doors on each side sat in a square with two other long buildings between them. That would probably be the living quarters, kitchen, and church. No one moved down there, not a single sign of activity. There was supposed to be a population of seventy-five people. They waited another five minutes to see if anyone came out of the buildings.

  “Something’s wrong,” Connor said.

  “What’s the play then?” Tank asked.

  “We need to investigate,” Connor said.

  “We could just go back and report this,” James said.

  “And not do what they sent us out here to do?” Connor asked.

  “They could just all be inside for breakfast or somethin’,” Tank said.

  “We have to check it out,” Connor said.

  “Alright,” James said. “But we go in ready.”

  “I was ready as soon as we left Coutts,” Connor said.

  They continued on their way, pulling down the driveway into the colony. Not knowing what else to do, they pulled right up to a small building that was away from the main collection. Tank turned Scourge off and they sat there for a few seconds. Connor opened the door and climbed out, scanning the horizon and all the buildings. Nothing—no people or movement. It was devoid of life, or at least it seemed that way. He walked around to the front of the rig, meeting James and Tank.

  “I’ll take point,” Connor said. “Tank, get our six. I have a bad feeling about this.”

  “Emmett did say they’d be around today, right?” James asked.

  “Yep,” Tank said.

  Connor walked towards the door and knocked on it. No one answered.

  “Anyone in there?” Connor called out.

  Nothing.

  He nodded to his brother, who opened the door for him, and Connor shouldered his ACR, sweeping into the room. The three of them moved inside, checking the whole building. It was clear. This seemed to be an office of sorts.

  “Empty,” James said.

  “We’ll try the next one,” Connor said.

  Outside, they moved to one of the apartment-looking buildings. Connor knocked again, but no one answered so he entered the room with James on his heels. This was someone’s home. There was a bench against one wall and a small table with chairs—a living room. Connor split off to a door on the left while Tank went to the one on the right and James took the one in the middle. Inside, Connor found a small bedroom with a single bed and dresser, nothing else. He turned and exited, noticing Tank coming out of a similar-looking room, shaking his head.

  “I got blood,” James said.

  Connor moved to the middle doorway, going downstairs to the basement. James was crouched at the bottom of the stairs next to three pools of blood on the floor.

  “It’s dried, but it’s not more than a couple of days old,” James said, standing up.

  “That’s a lot of blood,” Connor said.

  “There’s enough there for at least three bodies,” Tank said. “I’d be surprised if they survived.”

  “So where are they?” James asked.

  “That’s a damn good question,” Connor said, looking around the basement.

  ~~~

  James followed behind his brother as they exited the small church tucked between the two northern apartment buildings. They’d cleared the entirety of the apartment building they’d first entered. There’d been more blood in the rooms, and some of the rooms had crimson drag marks going towards the large central building. Connor moved towards there now, with James following close behind. He knew his brother was watching the ground for any traps so James kept his eyes up, looking for any sign of movement. Tank would be keeping an eye out for anything behind them. They arrived at the first door to the building and Connor stopped with his ear to it.

  “I don’t hear anything,” Connor whispered into the microphone of his headset. “Take it nice and slow.”

  James moved up to the door and waited for his brother’s nod before opening it. Connor went into the room and James entered after him. Inside was a large kitchen with commercial-grade appliances and a doorway to the left. In the next room, there was more equipment and some large counters. None
of the apartments had had their own kitchens, which made sense now as they apparently used a large communal one. There was a single door leading farther into the building.

  “Clear,” Connor whispered.

  Tank closed the door behind them. “Nuthin’ behind us,” he said.

  “I don’t like this,” James said.

  “Me neither,” Connor said, “but we can’t leave yet.”

  James sighed. “Then let’s get on with it.”

  They repeated the process, Connor going through the door first with James following him and Tank watching their six. The next room was more of a long hallway without any windows and dozens of small, square freezer doors set into the left wall. In between half of the small freezers was a doorway leading to a large, walk-in freezer and cooler. Connor went to check those while James kept his gun and eyes pointed ahead and Tank watched their backs. His brother came back out a few seconds later.

  “There’s a ton of food in there,” Connor whispered, “but nothin’ else.”

  Connor took the lead again and they moved into the next part of the room. On the right side, there were a few wooden tables, and the left side was taken up by a large span of windows. Through those windows they could see the mechanical room that housed the generators and such for the whole colony. A couple of utility sinks sat against the far wall next to another door. James was impressed. These people were truly self-sufficient, and just by looking at this building and their apartments, he could tell they lived a simple life. They were probably happier than most people these days since they had less technology and lived with fewer distractions in life. He hoped the dread he was feeling would be unfounded. It would be tragic if anything had happened to this community.

  Connor stopped next to the door and nodded at James, who opened it for him. Connor immediately went into the room and James followed. The smell hit him first and almost caused him to empty his stomach—copious amounts of blood and death. Then he saw what had caused it and stopped dead in his tracks just inside the room. They’d found the residents of the Red River Colony.

  29

  Questions

  Alexis carried two to-go boxes of food up the stairs and over to her desk, where she set one down and turned to the hallway.

  “Where are you going?” Dr. Hart asked from behind her.

  She quickly spun, almost dropping the other to-go box. His door had been closed and she hadn’t heard him come out.

  “To give Mark some breakfast,” Alexis said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” Dr. Hart said.

  “Why not?”

  “He’s no longer here. The soldiers found his drugs and he wanted to leave so they gave him a car. He’s gone.”

  “He left town?” she asked.

  “Of course. You heard him say yesterday that he didn’t want to be here. So when I released him this morning, he asked if he could leave and I told him to head to HQ. I heard he left shortly after gathering the rest of his belongings.”

  Alexis stared at the doctor. Mark had just up and left? She knew he hadn’t been content where he was at and that he wanted to be on the move, but she didn’t really think he’d leave the rest of his group. He’d known some of those people for years. Why would he leave now and try to survive on his own?

  “He just left?” Alexis asked again.

  “Yes, Ms. Wolfe,” Dr. Hart said with exasperation. “Now, if you’re through asking me the same question over and over, I have work to do.”

  He turned and entered his office, shutting the door behind him. Alexis walked over to her desk in the corner, setting the to-go box on the edge. Why would Mark leave? He didn’t have the drugs, a gun, supplies, or anything. Dr. Hart said the soldiers had given him a car. Had they also given him enough supplies to survive? Or had they given him his drugs back? And now, of all times. With the Reclaimers hunting them, it was more dangerous than ever. None of this made any sense. They wouldn’t just let him leave and endanger the whole community.

  Henry walked out of his office. “You bring that for me?” he asked, pointing to the second to-go box.

  “No, but you can have it,” Alexis said, handing it to him.

  “Thanks,” Henry said, taking it. “You bring it for Mark?”

  “Yeah,” Alexis said. “Dr. Hart said they released him?”

  “That’s what I heard,” Henry said, opening the Styrofoam container and picking up the plastic fork inside.

  “You didn’t see him released?”

  “Nope.” Henry took a bite of scrambled eggs, swallowed it, and continued. “Apparently it was all done before I got in this morning.”

  “When did you get here?”

  “A little after seven, I think.”

  “When does Dr. Hart come in?”

  “I think he lives in that office,” Henry said with a chuckle. “I’ve never seen him leave the building.”

  “You’ve never seen him leave?”

  “A few times for breakfast or lunch, but mainly the guards bring our food. I’ve never seen him leave at night though.”

  “That’s odd.”

  “The man is dedicated, though I have no idea how he stays so busy. It’s not like there’s a lot to do around here besides write our daily reports.”

  “Yeah,” Alexis said, only half listening.

  “Speaking of things to do, would you mind cleaning up the room Mark was staying in and taking the bedding over to the Laundromat?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks for the food.”

  He smiled at her and walked back into his office, leaving the door open. Henry hadn’t even seen Mark this morning. Why did everything about this place make her so suspicious, and why was it so hard to believe Dr. Hart?

  She stood up and walked down the hallway to the last door on the right. Opening it, she slipped inside. Mark was indeed gone. The sheets and blankets from the hospital bed were crumpled and hanging down to the floor. Everything else in the room looked the same as it had when she’d left last night.

  Grabbing a garbage bag from under the sink, she shoved the bedding inside. After that, she went to the trash can and started to tie up the bag, but something caught her eye. There was a syringe mixed in with the other trash. Carefully, she picked it up and then dug around until she came up with a small glass vial. She examined it, depositing the syringe back in the trash. It was Ketamine—a common sedative.

  She instinctively moved to pull out her phone to take a picture but stopped short. She hadn’t carried a phone since the cell towers had gone down. Instead, she’d replaced it with her gun belt, which held her Beretta, two extra magazines, a multi-tool, and a flashlight. But that wasn’t on her now since she always had to leave it at the gate. In lieu of a picture, she carefully peeled off the label and stuck it in her pocket. She’d have to check on that later. Putting the vial back in the trash, she tied up the bag, set it outside the room, and continued to clean. It only took thirty minutes to disinfect the room.

  After she took out the trash, she sat down at her desk with the bag of laundry next to it. She pulled out her tablet and looked through her inventory list. Ketamine wasn’t on it, meaning it would be in the locked room. Since Mark hadn’t had an IV, the drug would’ve been injected directly into him. Why would they need to knock him out if he was leaving town? The question only added to her suspicions.

  She walked down to the supply closet, intending to gather supplies to restock the room Mark had been in. Once inside, she turned off the light and cracked the door, gazing out. Within a few minutes, she was rewarded as the front doors opened. Two black-clad Vindex men walked down the hallway to the room with the locked door. Pulling the binoculars from a box of gauze she’d hidden them in, she brought them to her eyes and watched as one of the men entered the code—five, nine, eight, three.

  The door opened and the men entered the room. This time, there was no one else inside, so maybe there wasn’t normally a third guard waiting. The doo
r shut behind them and she stashed the binoculars again. Whoever had used the Ketamine had access to that room. That meant it was one of the Vindex men or Dr. Hart, but why would they need it? If what Dr. Hart had said was true, Mark had left town of his own free will. Or had he?

  The rest of the morning passed quickly as she hid her wandering mind by pretended to be busy on the tablet. The questions were eating away at her and she tried not to dwell on them, but she just couldn’t quell the unease she felt. There was a silver lining, though. Tonight was her dinner date with her dad. They’d been so busy lately that they’d barely seen each other. It had been difficult to go from seeing him non-stop every day when they were on the road to going a whole day without seeing him at all. She knew he was doing what he had to, but she still missed him, which made the thought of dinner together that night so nice. Her dad had even initiated it.

  A little earlier than normal, she left with the garbage bag of laundry slung over her shoulder. The guards let her pass and she collected her gun belt, heading to the local Laundromat. She was thankful Coutts had its own power and water supplies that were able to be kept fully operational.

  Dropping the laundry off, she walked two buildings down to where Mark had been staying. In the yard next to the school, she noticed that Neil had the kids outside and that Seth was helping him. There were piles of leaves, sticks, spruce branches, and other similar items around the kids, who’d been paired up and were trying to make a shelter. She felt a small sense of pride when she noticed that Olive and Felix were paired up and already had the best frame built while the rest of the kids were still working on theirs.

  Olive noticed her and waved enthusiastically. Alexis waved back, smiling. She didn’t want to interrupt Neil’s class so she just watched for a bit. It was encouraging to see that they were teaching the kids lessons that would help them survive in this new world, but it was also sad that it was necessary. Because they were so focused on survival, they hadn’t fully realized how much they’d lost over the last few weeks. Could these kids ever grow up and have a normal childhood again? Or were they destined to grow up too quickly, missing out on what it meant to be a child?