“Detective,” he greeted as the passenger door opened, revealing a tall black man in military fatigues.
Rogers nodded. “Morning. What have you got for me today?”
“A shell shocked couple, a nice young lady, and a badass motherfucker,” the military man declared as he skirted the hood of the vehicle.
“Humble,” the Detective commented, raising an eyebrow. “I like him.”
“Leon,” the military man said with a grin, extending his hand.
Rogers returned it and shook heartily. “I’m Detective Rogers, welcome to Fabens.”
A few locals opened the back doors of the vehicle, helping the frightened couple out and beginning to unload the bags. Clara thanked a man that helped her jump down from the SUV and then strolled over to the trio of men like she owned the place.
“And who might you be?” Rogers asked politely.
She planted a thumb on her chest. “I’m Clara.”
“Welcome,” the Detective said.
“So, how is the scouting going?” Francisco piped up as he stretched his legs.
“I don’t know if you ever visited this area before the world came crashing down, but it’s slim pickings out here,” Rogers admitted. “We’ve gotten as far east as Allamore, but the communities are so small that most of them don’t even have a gas station, let alone grocery stores.”
“Well, what about this place?” Francisco shrugged, motioning in the general direction of the city. “There are hundreds of buildings on the other side of the bridge.”
Rogers shook his head immediately. “And also potentially thousands of those creatures. We have maybe a hundred bullets in this town, so if somebody goes over there and attracts a horde, we could very easily get overrun. You get me some better weaponry and I’ll risk it, but until then we’re not going over there.” His tone was sharp and final.
Francisco threw up his hands, undeterred by the stern Detective. “Do you not understand what’s at stake here?” he snapped. “If the cartel discovers this place and you don’t have anything to show your value to them, they will wipe you off the map. Not only that, but they will make examples of those of us who helped you. Rodriguez is doing everything he can to divert search parties away from this area, but it’s not going to be long before he has no choice but to send people this way. A day, maybe two at the most.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then it sounds like you need to get on with supplying us with weapons,” Rogers replied, crossing his arms.
Francisco narrowed his eyes. “Send people to the other side of that bridge,” he growled.
“No.” The Detective jutted out his chin. “It doesn’t do us a damn bit of good to find something useful over there if we end up being overrun.” He took a deep breath to try to defuse the harsh energy in the air. “My scouts are hitting Van Horn today. It’s a sizable town with a grocery store, and with any luck, a liquor store.”
“You’d better make sure you find something that will make the boss happy,” Francisco warned. “Because if you don’t, it’s all our asses.”
Rogers let out a deep whoosh of breath. “Trust me, nobody is more aware of that than I am.”
“Good luck,” Francisco said, voice softer, and offered his hand. They shook firmly, a silent apology passing between them as their gazes connected. He turned and got back into the now-empty SUV, making sure there were no locals behind him as he backed up and peeled off back the way he’d come.
“Well,” Leon said as he stretched his arms high above his head, “in the span of an hour, I went from potentially dying alone, to potentially dying in a group. I guess that’s progress.”
Rogers couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “Sounds like you’ve had a fun day.”
“Sniped three assholes, got into a Mexican standoff, and had a freshly cooked breakfast,” Leon explained with a toothy grin.
The Detective raised an eyebrow. “Was there coffee with that breakfast?”
“Shit man, I wish,” Leon replied with a snap of his fingers. “I haven’t seen any of that in about a week.”
Rogers clapped him on the back. “Why don’t you come inside and I’ll see if I can rectify that travesty,” he said. “And we can talk about what you can help us out with.”
Leon nodded and leaned over to grab his gear.
Clara cleared her throat in an overly dramatic manner. “And what about me?” she asked, arms crossed and foot tapping in the dirt.
Rogers motioned to an older woman at a nearby picnic table, speaking in low tones to the shell-shocked couple. “If you want to go talk to Helena over there, I’m sure she has something you can help her with.”
The young woman glanced at the group and then back to the Detective, rolling her eyes. “So, you have an overabundance of able-bodied people who can venture out and find supplies, then?”
“No,” Rogers replied slowly, rubbing his chin. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the petite woman as of yet. “We’re quite short handed, actually. But do you really want to go out into zombie infested areas?”
“Fuck no I don’t,” Clara snapped, planting her hands firmly on her hips. “But you know what? I also don’t want to become a prisoner of the cartel. You’d be lucky, they’d just put a bullet in your brain. You know what they’d do to me?”
He winced. He knew what she was insinuating, and she was absolutely right. He pursed his lips and looked her dead in the eye. “Are you capable of handling yourself out there?” he asked.
“I run marathons for fun,” she replied, “so if I get into a situation where fighting isn’t an option, I can certainly outpace them. I’m guessing that’s more than you can say about the bulk of the residents here.” She waved her hand in the general direction of a cluster of elderly people folding sheets on a porch across the street.
“Okay,” Rogers said in defeat. “I’ll introduce you to Trenton. He’s my head scout. If he thinks you can be of use out there, you’re in. If not, then you’re staying here. It’s his ass on the line, so it’s his decision on who he brings. Fair?”
She nodded. “Fair.”
“Well, come on then,” he said as he turned back to Leon. “Let me show y’all the command center.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“No offense Rogers,” Leon said as he entered the old reception hall, “but I’m not sure this room lives up to the name command center.” He didn’t look terribly impressed as he took in the cheap folding tables around the perimeter of the mid-sized room. There were various maps and white boards along the walls, with a smattering of people around studying documents and making lists.
“There’s a fresh pot of coffee in the corner,” the Detective said with a grin, motioning to the little camping stove in the corner.
Leon laid eyes on the happily bubbling percolator atop it, and snapped his fingers. “This is the best goddamn command center I’ve ever set foot in.”
“Mister Rogers, would you and your friends like some coffee?” A woman with short bone-white hair walked up to them. She looked to be in her seventies, paper-thin skin crinkling as she smiled. “I just brewed it up.”
“Thank you, Ethel,” the Detective said warmly, taking her hand in his. “I think we’d all like one.”
She turned her bright friendly eyes on Leon and Clara, who couldn’t help but smile back at her. She shuffled off to check the brew as Rogers waved them over to a map of El Paso and surrounding areas on the wall. There were several red X marks over some of the smaller towns leading east on the I-10, a few with a circle around them.
“This is what we’re working with,” Rogers explained. “Antiquated, I know, but we’re lucky we have a map that even goes out this far.”
Clara leaned forward to study it. “What are the marks?”
“The X’s are for places we’ve scouted, and the ones with circles around them are places we’ve cleaned out,” the Detective explained. “I know you overheard me talking to Francisco, but we haven’t found hardly anything that would
be of value to the cartel boss.”
“What has he deemed valuable?” Leon asked, scratching the back of his head. “Food? Medicine?”
Rogers shook his head. “Alcohol.”
Leon’s eyebrows shot to his forehead. “Let me see if I got this right. He’s making you risk people’s lives to go out on a beer run?”
“Tequila actually, but yeah, that’s a pretty accurate description of the situation.” The Detective sighed.
Clara’s brow furrowed. “Why would he put that above everything else?”
“The cartel controls everything across the border,” Rogers explained. “Rumor has it that they have a pretty sophisticated farming operation underway. And I would assume he doesn’t give a shit if people get sick and die.”
Leon scoffed. “Given the current state of the world, I’m guessing high quality tequila will soon be in extremely short supply.”
“Bingo,” Rogers replied, making his hand into a finger-gun and popping it off at his new companion. “Regardless of the absurdity of it, we need to locate some if we want to get on his good side.”
Leon pursed his lips. “Or at least stay off his bad side.”
“At least,” the Detective agreed, and then turned his attention to an approaching man. “Trenton, good timing,” he greeted the tall and muscular twenty-something. “I’d like you to meet Leon, and your new recruit, Clara.”
The sandy-haired man cocked his head. “New recruit, huh?” He raised an eyebrow at the young woman. “You think you can hack it out there?”
“I survived a week living under the cartel,” Clara replied, bristling a little.
Trenton shrugged. “Good enough for me. We’re short-handed, anyway.”
“We lose somebody else?” Rogers furrowed his brow.
“Carver wiped out on his bike,” the younger man replied, rolling his eyes. “Pretty sure it’s a broken arm, but Helena is tending to him now.”
The detective rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Damn. Okay. Looks like he’ll be on bridge duty for a while.”
Ethel approached with a tray of steaming mugs of coffee and her warm smile.
“Ah, thank you, milady,” Leon moaned with happiness, savoring the scent of the fresh brew. She chuckled as she set the mugs down on the table and retreated with the tray to a chorus of thanks from the others.
“So, you find anything of value in that last run?” Rogers asked as he sipped his steaming mug.
Trenton shook his head. “Nothing that’s gonna help. Only found one bottle of tequila, but it’s so cheap I think it would be better used to degrease my engine.”
“Well then.” The Detective shrugged. “You boys ready to hit Van Horn?”
“About as ready as we’re ever going to be,” Trenton replied. “The size of that place scares me.”
Leon raised an eyebrow. “Scares you more than the cartel?”
“Bullet to the head is better than a bite to the neck,” the younger man explained.
Leon nodded, and took a long sip of his brew. “Can’t argue with that,” he admitted.
“Well, it’s an hour down the road, so y’all better get on trucking,” Rogers cut in. “Francisco came by earlier and told us we’re on a timetable.”
Trenton paled. “How long?”
“A day, maybe two at most,” the Detective replied.
“Fantastic,” the younger man declared, sarcasm evident in his tone. He turned to Clara. “Okay, grab your weapon and let’s head out.”
Her cheeks pinked. “Um.” She blinked a few times. “The cartel kind of frowned on civilians having weapons, so I don’t really have one.”
Leon unsnapped the knife holster from his belt, and held it out to her. “Here you go,” he offered. “This baby served me well for years, hopefully it will do the same for you.”
She took it gingerly, giving him a thin smile. “Thank you.”
Rogers sighed and reached down to his ankle, lifting the leg of his jeans to reveal a snub-nose 38. “Ammo is really tight around here, so you’ll only have the six shots that are chambered. Should be good in a pinch, though,” he said as he held out the weapon.
Clara took it and stuffed it into her pocket with a somber nod.
“With where we’re going, the last thing you want to do is make a lot of noise, anyway,” Trenton piped up. “Being the center of attention is definitely something you don’t want to be.”
“Pre-apocalypse, I would have argued with you,” Clara replied with a chuckle, and motioned for him to lead the way outside.
Leon watched them go, almost zoning out as he sipped his coffee. The dark liquid was more comforting than he’d ever known it to be.
“So,” Rogers said, leaning against the table and drawing his new charge out of his reverie, “what do you bring to the table?”
Leon took a deep breath. “Well, for starters, I can shoot a motherfucker dead at two hundred yards. More importantly, however, I think I can help you out with your less than stellar mapping.”
“Oh really?” the Detective asked, raising an eyebrow. “And how are you going to pull that one off?”
Leon drained his mug with a satisfying smack of his lips. “I tell you what, you grab me another cup of coffee, and I’ll show you.”
Rogers grinned. “Deal.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Trenton led Clara through the parking lot towards two men on dirt bikes. They looked to be in the early twenties, fit and bronze in the sunlight. Clara raised an eyebrow. When he’d said that their buddy had fallen off of his bike, she hadn’t assumed a motorized vehicle. He was lucky to have gotten away with just a broken arm.
There was a dune buggy too, housing another twenty something man, though he looked out of place of the handsome frat boys with his freckled skin and rounder belly.
“Hey, Trenton, you find yourself a girlfriend?” one of the dirt bike guys said.
The other one hooted and gave him a high five. “Yeah man, she’s all kinds of hot.”
Clara didn’t even break stride, stalking up to the two of them with her chin high. She put a hand on her hip, staring them down as she tapped the hilt of her knife with a sharp fingernail.
“I…” the first guy stammered, “I think we may have gotten off on the wrong foot here.”
She cocked her head. “You think?”
“Clara, I’d like you to meet Reed and Jay,” Trenton said, obviously amused with the exchange. “From this point on they will be fine upstanding citizens. Gentlemen, this is Clara.”
Jay gulped and smiled nervously, nodding at her. Reed gave her a little salute.
“And over here is Malcolm.” Trenton inclined his head to the driver in the dune buggy. “He’s going to be your ride to Van Horn.”
Clara gave the duo a thousand-watt smile and then turned on her heel, heading over to the vehicle. She raised her eyebrow at the amount of duct tape holding the thing together. Every metal surface seemed to be buried in rust and there were even exposed wires sticking out from the engine.
“Hi.” She gave the driver a wave and motioned to the hole where the windshield should have been. “Is this thing actually going to make it to Van Horn? It’s looking a little worse for wear.”
Malcolm smiled and patted the steering wheel. “This is a tough old girl,” he said. “I’ve had her for years and she hasn’t let me down yet.” He reached into a compartment and pulled out a pair of goggles, holding them out to her. “You’re going to need these. The windshield is… kinda missing.”
Clara laughed and put them on, shaking her head as she slid into the passenger’s seat. “All right,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
He turned the key and the engine chugged a little before quieting down again. The dirt bikes started up no problem, rumbling to life, and Reed and Jay peeled out of the parking lot. Trenton wandered over.
“Starter trouble again?” he asked.
Malcolm nodded. “Yeah, she’ll get going here in a minute,” he replied. “Y’all go ahead, we’l
l catch up.”
Trenton gave him a little salute and hopped on his own dirt bike, kicking it on and then speeding off after the others.
Malcolm tried again, but the motor just wouldn’t turn over.
Clara raised an eyebrow. “Usually have this kind of performance issue?” she asked.
He blushed. “Only around pretty girls,” he said, and then wrinkled his nose, as if he immediately regretted saying it.
Clara laughed it off, hoping to put him at ease, and this time the engine started up into a low rumble.
Malcolm sighed in relief and popped the dune buggy into gear. “All right, hang on.”
CHAPTER SIX
Rogers headed back over to Leon, a fresh steaming mug in hand. The older man was setting up a heavy-duty looking laptop hooked up to a power bar.
“What…” the Detective trailed off, mouth opening and closing in shock. “Whatcha got there?”
“This, sir, is a state of the art communications laptop,” Leon replied as he rummaged around in one of his duffel bags. “This allows me to the ability to tap into satellites currently circling the globe.”
“Um.” Rogers scratched the back of his head. “Does it require power?”
Leon nodded. “A shitload.”
“Sorry to say that we haven’t had power in this town since we got here,” the Detective admitted.
“Not an issue, my friend,” Leon replied with a toothy grin. “Be a pal and point me to a window that faces south.”
Rogers furrowed his brow and motioned to one of the large windows on the south end of the building, watching with fascination as Leon pulled out a rolled up piece of black material. There was a cable attached to one end, and it flopped down as the tall man flung open the roll like a beach towel. He headed over and opened the window, hanging the material out the side of the building and then closing it to hold it in place.
“Perfect,” Leon murmured as he ran the cable back to his power bar.
“Well,” Rogers said, impressed as he shook his head. “What do we have here?”
Dead America: The Second Week Box Set [Books 1-6] Page 16
