Metzger couldn’t imagine the Marines asking them a few simple questions before discarding them with bullets to the forehead. He wasn’t sure Nadeau’s supporters would act as benevolent captors if the roles were reversed, but he wanted to hear what the lot of them had to say before decisions were made about their future.
“They won’t talk,” Fournier spouted coldly with his French accent.
“Oh, he speaks,” Metzger said, taking a verbal jab at the man. “And you can attest to their tight lips because you know each of them personally?”
Fournier said nothing, choosing to walk across the bridge in silence.
“I wish you would’ve died at the airport,” Metzger said so only the Canadian would hear his words. “You cost me a good friend with that little stunt you pulled.”
“You’ve cost me more than you’ll ever know. Twice.”
No one spoke another word during the walk across the bridge, and when the group reached the converted house, they found the Marines waiting beside the two vehicles with three prisoners and two boxes of paperwork and items confiscated from the stronghold. One of them spoke on a satellite phone to a higher authority, and Metzger questioned why anyone back in Norfolk wouldn’t call his brother instead. He thought of the sat phone he acquired in town, thankful he stuffed it in a pocket because he hadn’t found time to retrieve the backpack or the remainder of its contents.
“I understand, sir,” the leader of the Marines said, spying the approaching group from the corner of his eye. “New secondary objective.”
Metzger wasn’t certain if his brother heard the words or not, because his brother’s face displayed neutrality when he stole a glance. The Marine abruptly severed the call, turning his attention to the four people returning to the compound.
“Target acquired,” he said, a broad smile crossing his face before he shook hands with Bryce. “We have some people very interested in meeting this son-of-a-bitch.”
“Did you get anything from these three?” Bryce inquired, looking to the three men seated on the ground with their hands restrained behind them with zip ties.
“Negative. They’re staying tightlipped.”
“It’s going to be crowded in those vehicles if we take them all back.”
“Don’t see where we have much choice,” the Marine replied. “We can’t leave any of them around to warn their people further up the chain.”
“Agreed.”
“We can secure another car,” Molly suggested.
“We’ll have to,” the Marine said, looking behind the returning group. “Looks like you brought some company with you.”
Nearly a dozen zombies staggered in their direction across the bridge, slowly catching up after spying human activity in the city.
Metzger supposed the Marines had their hands full securing the three prisoners, but he questioned why none of the men crossed the bridge afterwards, because Fournier was certainly the primary target and the reason they returned to Buffalo. He supposed they considered Bryce reinforcement enough, so they monitored the prisoners instead.
He didn’t particularly like the lack of organization from the military end, but he knew they originally planned on extracting Fournier and dealing with possibly one gatekeeper. He didn’t expect two additional people to be staying there, though he felt glad the men weren’t simply expendable, meant to be shot and disposed of like cattle.
“Let’s load up,” Bryce ordered, more than suggested. “We’ll keep Fournier in one of the vehicles and a few of us can walk with the other dickheads until we find additional transportation.”
Bryce and one of the Marines guarded Fournier in the green car, while another Marine guarded another prisoner in the truck they already possessed, forcing the man to drive. Molly, Metzger, the lead Marine, and the remaining two prisoners walked behind the small convoy, heading east to the United States and their transportation awaiting them at the airport. Two of the prisoners walked alongside, knowing escape was impractical with their hands bound and nowhere in particular to go. Metzger continued to glance at the Marine walking just a few paces to his right, wondering who the man conversed with on the sat phone, and what the conversation entailed.
In his mind, he couldn’t shake the words “new secondary objective” because he wondered what else in their current location could be even remotely important by comparison. Thus far, the man hadn’t given any new orders to his men, and he certainly hadn’t spoken about the conversation to Bryce, or the civilians assisting them.
Before long they reached city streets, knowing they needed to cross a dangerous portion of the city before reaching the border. Metzger pulled away from the group several times to try a few suitable vehicles parked alongside city streets or sidewalks, as though hastily left when their owners ran for their lives. One indicated no fuel was left in the tank, while another refused to turn over at all. Metzger couldn’t determine if the battery died, or something else caused the problem, but he wasn’t going to waste time peering under the hood.
Much to his surprise, Metzger found a 1979 Chevy pickup truck that turned over immediately, and registered a tank more than half full. He looked to Molly when she opened the passenger door to see his progress.
“It’s a stick,” he said, unable to recall the last time he drove a manual transmission vehicle other than a motorcycle.
“Allow me,” she said with a smile. “I used to drive these all the time at my uncle’s farm.”
Molly drove, and the Marine chose to remain in the truck bed to guard the two prisoners, which provided Metzger and Molly an opportunity to talk. Even with open windows, anyone in the back wouldn’t hear their conversation due to the gusting wind.
“Did you hear what that guy said on the sat phone?” he inquired.
“I did,” she answered without removing her eyes from the road ahead. “What do you make of it?”
“It sounds like we have something else going on before we fly back to the base, but he’s not coming off the details.”
“Think someone cut a deal?”
Metzger gave a sideways smile.
“What?” Molly asked as though she’d said something grievously wrong.
“You’re always so suspicious of everyone.”
“Considering my recent track record, I have reason to be.”
“I’ll admit I didn’t like the way he hung up so quickly,” Metzger said. “Whatever he was talking about, he didn’t want anyone knowing it, including my brother.”
“Isn’t your brother leading this expedition?”
“In rank, yes, but some of these Marines answer to different bosses. I don’t entirely trust the powers that be to do right by us. Or him.”
“What are you saying, exactly?”
“I don’t see some kind of double-cross coming, but we need to stay vigilant. I’m ready to get back to Norfolk and sleep for days, but I won’t relax until we board that plane.”
“We haven’t really discussed this, but am I welcome to come back with your group?”
“I figured that was a foregone conclusion,” Metzger replied. “They’re picky about who gets to stay at the base, but they’ve been taking back the city so families can spread out.”
“Or the military can have privacy to do what they will.”
“There is that,” Metzger thought aloud.
Metzger felt trapped with his thoughts the remainder of the journey until they reached the United States border and he called upon his heightened senses and instincts to keep him safe. He expected something to happen, either in the form of an ambush, or some new twist brought about by the phone call the Marine received. The fact that the Marine didn’t speak a single word about the conversation to Bryce concerned him even more.
“Cross this bridge and we’re home free,” Molly stated as she drew the truck to a stop. “In theory.”
“That’
s for sure,” Metzger said as he opened his door and stepped out from their borrowed vehicle.
All three vehicles had drawn as close as they could to the border on the Canadian side due to the blockage. In his travels, Metzger experienced such congestion on bridges, along highways and interstates leaving urban areas, and within the cities themselves. Outward appearances indicated no one ever truly wanted to enter a city when certain death awaited them.
“Time to walk,” Bryce announced as the prisoners were harshly prodded from the vehicles, forced to cross the bridge at gunpoint.
None of them attempted to run, or worse, leap off the bridge at any point. Either they trusted the remnants of the government to treat them decently, or they anticipated a rescue attempt. Metzger didn’t foresee the latter because he doubted anyone knew the men were holed up in the isolated Canadian building. He also doubted they made contact with people at the next destination that led to Nadeau, suspecting multiple stops and checkpoints stood between them and the man who ended the populated world.
A few undead blocked their paths along the bridge, but Metzger silently dealt with them using his sword. Before long, the group stood at the booths marking entry to the United States, met with no resistance as they weaved through the various booths and the vehicles clogging the paths. On the other side, Metzger looked around, seeing no danger in any direction, though he knew with another couple hundred vehicles in front of them, hazards might lurk in any direction.
“What’s the matter with you?” Bryce asked once he met up with his brother between stalled vehicles.
“Did you hear the conversation your Marine was having on the phone when we returned from the city?”
“Of course I did. I’m not deaf.”
“What the hell does ‘secondary objective’ mean?”
“Who knows?” Bryce answered with a shrug. “The jarheads like to feel important.”
“It was more than that,” Metzger insisted, ignoring his brother’s slang for the Marines. “He cut off that call awfully quick when he saw us coming.”
Bryce said nothing, choosing to observe one of the prisoners walking ahead of him.
“You’re supposed to be in charge of this operation,” Metzger said. “Why wouldn’t that come through you? And why does that guy have his own sat phone anyway?”
“Look, this unified military thing isn’t exactly catching on with our superiors. They talk shop together in their conference rooms, then they give orders, but that doesn’t mean they like each other, or their ideas. Hell, for all I know that guy was just updating his superior about what we’d found.”
“It didn’t sound that way to me,” Metzger said assuredly before leaving his brother’s side to join Molly, even though he didn’t feel like conversing with her either.
Metzger loved his brother, and perhaps out of obligation to stay with his last remaining family member, he left his friends and opted for life on a military installation, but he regretted the choice more often than not. So long as Bryce felt his government was doing right by its few remaining citizens, he wouldn’t abandon his post, and while Metzger hoped those who enforced laws and fought for civil liberties continued their work, he sensed something more ominous afoot.
When the group emerged from the sea of abandoned vehicles, they found the Marine sentry Coffey standing diligently between the two Humvees, unscathed, though a bit more reddened by the sun. He said nothing, but he smirked at the results of the collaborative search. Much like before, the group quickly discovered that two vehicles would not sufficiently hold the Marines, Bryce, Metzger, Molly, and four prisoners.
“Lucky for all of you I tested a few nearby vehicles and found a Dodge truck in working order,” Coffey stated, taking notice of their dilemma.
Seating arrangements remained nearly the same, but Metzger and Molly were asked to occupy the Dodge while one of the Marines and the stout prisoner sat in the bed. While Metzger wanted to desperately grab some of the family items and heirlooms he left locked inside a car at the airport when he first departed Buffalo, he wasn’t about to compromise his brother’s assignment. Although his knowledge as an amateur pilot continued to expand, he didn’t foresee a return flight to New York soon, but he wouldn’t rule out a future trip.
“I’m glad you found your brother,” Molly finally said from the passenger’s seat as Metzger followed the second Humvee along a highway.
“I’m sorry things went so badly at the school,” he said. “We should’ve known these assholes weren’t done.”
“We thought we were prepared,” Molly said as she stared out her passenger window. “We weren’t.”
“Choosing my brother over my group was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made,” Metzger admitted. “And what’s weird is I barely got to know those people.”
“It doesn’t take long to bond in this kind of environment. You learn who to trust quickly, or you don’t make it.”
“Living with the government isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
“What’s left of our government these days?” she inquired.
“That’s a tricky question,” Metzger admitted. “They claim the President and many key members of Congress and the House are safe, but I’ve never laid eyes on a single one of them so far as I can tell.”
“I can’t imagine they’d put everyone in Virginia, though. In fact, they probably have fortified bunkers like our good friend Nadeau.”
“Maybe. And they have other bases and locations secured.”
“I’m curious how well they can communicate, if that’s the case.”
“Surely they have satellite communications up and running, but I’m not privy to the inner workings of our military. I know they put a limit on use of their resources.”
“If there’s infrastructure, then we might have a chance of rebuilding.”
“They’ve got some smart people at the base,” Metzger said. “They’ve been sending soldiers and civilians into the town to wipe out any lingering dead. One of those aircraft carriers can power a small city for about twenty years, and if we haven’t figured out how to get things working by then, shame on us.”
“We’re screwed either way,” Molly said without any passion in her voice. “We’re going to run out of stable fuel for our vehicles, the dead heads are going to wipe out the animal population, and we can’t trust half the living. Not exactly a strong foundation, if you get my drift.”
“I know,” Metzger said, comprehending the reality. “Part of me wanted to join the cause and help the military begin to rebuild, but I’m not sure that’s their primary goal at this point. Maybe they’re multitasking, and I’m not seeing nearly half of what they’re doing, but we keep chasing after this Nadeau character like getting him to fess up is going to solve our problems. I remember when the government finally tracked down bin Laden after 9/11, and knowing he was dead didn’t exactly heal old wounds.”
“You seem to be a good judge of character, Dan. If they don’t deliver on their promises, I suspect you’ll make your own way, or straighten them out.”
Metzger chuckled.
“Well, if they hold elections in the future, maybe I’ll run for something.”
“If you’re not seeing leadership in there now, maybe there isn’t any,” Molly suggested.
“Meaning they’re hidden away?”
“Meaning they might be lying to you, and none of these career politicians are alive like the military types would have you believe.”
“Were you this skeptical before the apocalypse?”
Molly grinned.
“I’m a survivor. So are you. I know you don’t take everything they spoon feed you at face value. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been so concerned about that phone call back there.”
Metzger couldn’t argue her point. Living in the base made him feel claustrophobic sometimes, because military people and their
civilian families shared the space, except for the areas closed off to civilians. He couldn’t readily recall seeing any familiar faces from the political or celebrity realms wandering around the base, and he didn’t imagine even those folks wanted to remain cooped up aboard a ship every hour of every day.
“Do you think this guy will provide answers about how to find Nadeau?” Molly asked.
“I bet one of them squawks,” Metzger replied. “The paperwork we found might be more help.”
“I’m a little surprised they let you come along on this little expedition.”
“I can take care of myself. They know that.”
“I meant I figured they’d be more secretive, not wanting a civilian to learn any important secrets before their brass found out.”
“I think my brother had a lot to do with talking them into letting me come along. They would’ve been forever trying to find that school without me.”
“Thank God you tagged along, then.”
“I’m just sorry Fournier and his people put their future above human lives. They killed all those people, even my folks, for what? A few sheets of paper that might lead to salvation in Canada?”
“We can’t assume he’s in Canada,” Molly said. “He was one of the richest people in the world, and he might very well be holed up in our country to rub it in our noses. Hell, he might have jumped on his private jet and gone to Europe or some exotic island where he’d be safe.”
“That would make his magic instruction sheet a complete fabrication, though.”
Molly gave a knowing look.
“Would you expect anything less? We don’t even know what his motivation was. He might have become unhinged.”
“I doubt someone insane is going to create a fake paper trail. Maybe he knew a fight was inevitable and he’s trying to build an army.”
Metzger grunted, curious about the man’s motivations. He wondered if the military, or anyone, would ever discover why he decided to spread a fatal disease across the world.
Within the hour they approached the airport, and a horrifying sight awaited the group as they spotted the cargo plane beyond the downed fences, surrounded by the undead. Metzger wondered if the zombies spotted the plane’s descent, knowing they’d been gone long enough for their natural adversaries to make their way to the airport. He saw the cargo hatch of the plane sealed, which caused him to wonder why the undead lingered in the area.
The Undead Chronicles (Vol. 2): Darker Days Page 28
