by Rachel Aukes
Having zeds inside the Camp was dangerous enough, especially if they got free and leaked their infectious goo all over the place.
I took a step back. “Oh, shit.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“The Dogs aren’t done yet. They’re going to spread the infection.”
Chapter XXX
Clutch and I looked at each other.
We left the stinking corpses and took off running back to the truck.
A blast detonated in the distance, and smoke rose from the direction of HQ.
My heart pounded. “No!”
We raced back to find soot-covered people pouring out of the building. Many were injured and wet with blood. Clutch slammed on the brakes just as Griz and several troops ran toward the building. I jumped out and yanked Griz back. “Anyone who got hit with shrapnel is infected!”
Griz’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
I pointed at the building. “They used zed-soaked grenades!”
His eyes widened. “Are you sure? You’ve got to be fucking sure about this.”
Clutch came up. “Yeah, Griz. They’re using dirty bombs.”
The soldier muttered out a string of curses before raising his handheld radio. “This is Griz. Anyone injured by the grenade blast is infected. You are ordered to eliminate anyone injured. Repeat. Kill anyone injured. Over.”
Chatter erupted on the radio.
Repeat last.
Say again.
You’re joking, right?
Griz sighed. “You heard me right! I’m not fucking with you! The Dogs used dirty bombs, goddammit. Kill the injured!”
“God help us all,” Griz said and opened fire on survivors.
Screams erupted. People went berserk, running wildly away from us, seeking shelter.
I raised my rifle. My hands shook. My aim needed to be right. I took a deep breath and sought out the most injured. They would turn first.
I fired.
A woman holding her bloody stomach fell. From my side, Clutch fired into the crowd. The sounds of more gunfire from both sides filled the air.
I took down a man with a head wound. Then a kid getting trampled in the chaos that had overtaken the Camp.
As if spooked by something, people switched directions and starting running toward us.
A zed with a massive chest wound sunk its teeth into the neck of a screaming man. I fired off two shots back to back, taking both down.
Clutch grabbed me. “Run!”
We sprinted toward the truck. The stampede was nearly upon us. Clutch grabbed my waist and threw me onto the bed. I grabbed his shirt to pull him up, but he was yanked from my grasp.
“Clutch!” I screamed, but I couldn’t find him anywhere in the mass of running people.
People reached for me but were smashed against the truck by the sheer force of numbers. The four-by-four wobbled from side to side. A woman shrieked like a yippy dog as she was squeezed between the truck and people until she drowned under the stampede.
“Godammit! Clutch!”
In a panic, I continued firing as I crept to the edge, searching for him on the ground. A familiar man shoved a kid down on his way past.
“Sean,” I growled out. He looked up right when I shot him. Weasel was only a few feet behind Sean, and I killed him with my last round.
The truck was rocking so much that I dropped the clip while reloading.
The stampede thinned out as the people spread out. Bringing up the rear were mostly zeds. When they first turned, zeds were nearly as fast as humans, and they were taking down people left and right, like they were at a wine tasting party.
I went through three more clips before I pulled out the machete. I jumped off the back of the truck and stumbled over bodies on the ground. I hacked at zeds and slashed anyone still living who bore shrapnel wounds. I shoved bodies aside.
“Clutch!” I screamed until my voice gave out. I kept going, pushing over bodies, searching, until my gaze fell on camo fatigues.
I dropped to my knees and pulled the lifeless man onto my lap and started sobbing.
I’d found Clutch.
BETRAYAL: The Ninth Circle of Hell
Chapter XXXI
Three days later
Forty-two.
That’s how many Camp Fox survivors made it to the park. After surviving the zed outbreak, only one out of every seventeen civilians survived the Dogs’ attack. Of that number, over half the survivors were troops, as they’d been spread across the base hunting the Dogs when the attack started.
Forty-two was barely enough to protect the park from zeds, let alone protect it against the risk of Dogs. Same story, different day.
I snuggled against Clutch and held his hand, just like I had every day since the attack. On the first day, his fingers had trembled, but the doctor said not to think anything of it, that the spasms were due to the swelling on his brain. Even though Clutch no longer showed any response, I still held hope.
Jase clung to hope, too. He slept alone in a beanbag chair on the other side of Clutch’s bed every night. He no longer had his faithful sidekick. The timid coyote had sacrificed herself to save her master when a zed tackled Jase. It seemed like he’d lost enough that he no longer had much to say.
He blamed himself for her death. But no more than I blamed myself for Clutch’s situation.
Griz, Tack, Smitty, Eddy, even Tyler had come through without injuries. A selfish, dark shadow deep inside me was angry that they were okay while Clutch lay lifeless on the bed. It had all seemed so unfair. But as soon as the guys stopped by to offer respect, I’d been ashamed of my thoughts. Those men were heroes as much as Clutch. They’d just gotten lucky this time.
Clutch had been crushed under the stampede. His back was broken, along with three ribs, both legs, and his left wrist. He also had a dislocated shoulder and a fractured skull. If—when— he woke, the doc said he could have permanent brain damage. And he’d be paralyzed from the waist down.
Still, I prayed for him to wake.
I needed him to wake.
On the nightstand next to his bed—against doctor’s orders—sat a fully loaded Glock and the can of chewing tobacco I’d given him. The doctor—a general practitioner—figured that if Clutch woke up, he’d be suicidal, and would put a bullet through his brain. I disagreed.
The Clutch I knew would never pull the trigger.
I only hoped that when Clutch woke, he’d still be the man I knew.
In the background, Hawkeye’s latest transmission droned on over the beeps of Clutch’s life support system.
“…The time is coming soon when we can all relocate to a zed-free zone. At the right time, I will give you all a date and time to meet, and we will head out together. A militia has volunteered to protect us on our journey. There is strength in numbers, my friends. Until tomorrow, this is Hawkeye broadcasting on AM 1340. Be safe and know that you’re not alone.”
Griz burst through the door and I nearly fell out of bed.
I got to my feet, gently, so as not to disturb Clutch’s broken body. “What’s wrong?”
“You better come quick.”
I placed a kiss to Clutch’s forehead and ran with Griz to his Jeep. “Where are we going?”
“Jase’s cabin.”
I sucked in a breath. No!
Fear stung my nerves. He’d been so quiet lately. He’d probably been planning on taking his own life since the attack, and I’d been so obsessed with Clutch that I ignored the signs.
I held on tightly as Griz squealed tires around winding roads through the dense morning fog. Three other vehicles were already parked at the cabin when we got there. I ran inside.
Expecting to find Jase’s lifeless body, I was surprised to find Jase alive and well, and I let out a breath that I felt like I’d been holding since Griz grabbed me.
Then I noticed Jase had a rifle leveled at his best friend. Eddy kneeled on the floor, whimpering, with his wrists restrained b
ehind his back. Tyler stood nearby, his arms folded over his chest.
I frowned. “What’s going on?”
“Eddy couldn’t take the guilt eating away at him anymore,” Jase said with a cutting edge to his voice. “He’d figured his mom was exempt from getting chewed up by zeds. He figured wrong.”
“None of that was supposed to happen. I swear it!” Eddy pleaded. “No one except Colonel Lendt was supposed to get hurt.”
My jaw dropped. Eddy was the traitor? Of all people, a kid betrayed us?
Eddy sobbed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I was trying to help everyone. I screwed up.”
“What you did is not called screwing up. It’s called treason,” Tyler said coolly. “Your actions brought about the deaths of over three hundred innocent people, including your own mother.”
Eddy lowered his head and sniffled, his body quivering.
“You can start making amends by giving us Doyle’s location,” Tyler said.
Eddy looked up, confused. He shook his head. “I had nothing to do with Doyle. Hawkeye arranged everything, even getting the two Dogs into Camp Fox.”
Tyler frowned. “The AM jockey?”
The blood drained from my head as I finally placed Hawkeye’s voice.
Eddy nodded. “Hawkeye had proof of zed-free zones that welcomed survivors. We could go there and be safe. But he’d said that Lendt didn’t tell us about the zones because he didn’t want to lose his power and control over everything and everyone at Camp Fox.”
“And Hawkeye showed you this proof?”
“Hawkeye told me.”
Tyler slowly shook his head. “Son, you were played for a fool. Hawkeye’s the one interested in power and control. Not Lendt.”
Eddy sniffled before looking across the faces in the room. His gaze stopped at one and morphed into a glare. “It’s your fault. Mom would still be alive if it wasn’t for you.”
The room temp dropped twenty degrees when every pair of eyes turned to Smitty.
Smitty’s gaze darted to Tyler. “I don’t know what he’s talking about.”
Eddy’s glare narrowed. “You said everything would be all right. That we were helping everyone.”
Smitty fidgeted. “Stupid kid thinks to throw a scapegoat out to save his own ass. Don’t try to pull me into this, Eddy. This is all on you.”
Tyler took a step forward and shook his head. “You’ve always been a lousy poker player, Smitty.” He nodded to Tack and Griz who I noticed both already had a pistol aimed at their fellow soldier. “Arrest him. Put him with Eddy.”
Surprisingly, Smitty didn’t rabbit. He stood, jaw clenched, while Tack disarmed and restrained him and Griz held the weapon level on him.
“I don’t get it. Why, Corporal?” Tyler asked.
Smitty snorted. “When I joined up, I vowed to defend this country against all threats, domestic and foreign.”
I rolled my eyes. How cliché. “And how does killing innocents fall under that?”
“None of that was supposed to happen. Hawkeye had said only the leadership had to go, so then everyone could relocate to the zed-free zone. The Dogs must’ve disobeyed orders. Maybe Doyle got wind of their plans and turned them.”
“Hawkeye is Doyle, you idiot,” I said and then walked out.
Chapter XXXII
Two days later
Tyler led a public tribunal for Eddy and Smitty where shouts for death had erupted within seconds. Tyler passed judgment two minutes later and condemned both to die—not by hanging but by zeds. Not a single person cried for leniency.
It’d taken only three months for society to return to Old Testament ways of thinking.
Tyler delayed the execution one day to make arrangements and assemble volunteers. Jase had been the first to step up. I had been the second, quickly followed by Griz and Tack.
After I checked on Clutch, we headed out from the park in Camp Fox’s heaviest duty truck—a HEMTT—that was nearly impenetrable against zeds. It made Doyle’s garbage trucks look like Tonkas.
Tyler sat up front in the cab with Griz, who drove us to Camp Fox. Tyler rode along because he felt like it was his responsibility to see his decisions through. He’d become a recluse since the trial. I imagined the hard decisions he’d been forced to make were tearing him up inside. Me? I thought Smitty and Eddy had it coming after the pain they’d caused. They’d been idiots to believe there were safe zed-free zones out there, let alone that we could move hundreds of people across states to such zones. Before the outbreak, I never would’ve thought I could become so ruthless. Now, I realized it was the only way to survive.
The rest of us sat in the HEMTT’s open back with the prisoners. The numbers of zeds in fields and on the roads grew as we neared the camp, though we’d already figured most would still be within the Camp. Zeds weren’t exactly adventurous unless in a herd. They were lemmings like that. Now if we could only find a giant cliff and lead them to it.
As we passed Doyle’s abandoned camp, I was surprised to find relatively few zeds in the area. I was even more surprised to find the gate closed. “I thought Lendt’s guys had blown open the gate,” I said.
Jase shrugged, not taking his gaze off Eddy sitting across from him. “Guess not.”
The thought nagged at me until we reached Camp Fox. The gate stood wide open from when the base was evacuated, and several zeds wandered around near the guard box. Griz ran over three on his way through.
The HEMTT drove slowly down the road, swerving around bodies, and came to a stop a couple hundred meters inside. We couldn’t risk going too deep into the Camp where the risk of being overtaken by zeds was too high. Even here, I could make out over twenty stragglers wandering around the open grass area.
I stood. “This is it.”
Both Eddy and Smitty looked scared shitless, though Smitty also looked pissed off as though he thought he should be exempt from punishment.
Jase grabbed Eddy’s arm and forced him to stand while Tack and I dragged Smitty to his feet.
Eddy looked across our faces with wide eyes as though one of us could pardon him. He watched me and paled. Then I realized he was looking past me. “Mom?”
Eddy tried to lunge forward, but Jase held him back. “Mom!”
About thirty meters away, a female zed with the same hair color as Eddy cocked its head and sniffed the air. Then it started to shuffle toward the truck.
“Mom.” His lips trembled and tears fell down his face. “I’m so sorry.”
The breath hardened in my lungs. Of all the shitty, rotten luck.
Tyler climbed up. “It’s time. Eddy, you’re up.”
Eddy bit back a sob. “But my mom’s out there.”
Compassion flashed in Tyler’s eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but clamped it shut. After a moment he nodded to Jase.
With a clenched jaw, Jase nudged Eddy to the edge and cut his wrist restraints. I half expected Jase to shove his friend off the truck as payback for Mutt’s death, but instead he lowered Eddy gently to the ground.
Eddy stood there for a moment before looking up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“I know,” Tyler said quietly.
Eddy’s feet looked like they’d been tied to sandbags with the way he trudged away from the truck and straight toward his mother. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
The zed held its arms out and pulled Eddy into an embrace that almost seemed motherly. Until it lowered its mouth, jaws wide open, and clamped onto his throat. Eddy screamed and fell back, taking the zed with him.
Smitty jerked, and I tightened my grip. “You did this. Watch,” I ordered, though it was taking all my strength to watch the execution play out. If I was here alone, I would’ve put a bullet through Eddy’s skull to end his pain, but Tyler had been adamant about setting an example of what happened to traitors. There simply weren’t enough of us left. We had to be able to depend on each other with our lives, or else we were all doomed.
Tyler had dec
lared that Eddy’s death would be first so that Smitty would have to watch what was about to happen to him. Everyone knew that Smitty had coerced the weaker boy to help. Eddy had simply been an unfortunate lackey, and I even found myself feeling sorry for the kid.
Smitty was the real traitor.
Eddy’s screams turned into a gurgle before quieting. He spasmed as a nearby zed joined in on his shoulder.
On the HEMTT, Jase reached under the seat and pulled out one of the long wooden spears the survivors had been making from the park’s trees. Camp Fox hadn’t had much ammunition before the outbreak. Now, their ammo supply was dangerously low and would likely run out by fall. We were forced to find new weapons. Jase walked to the side and skewered a zed that had been trying to climb onto the truck.
Eddy had quit moving, and I let out a breath. His suffering was thankfully over.
The zeds stepped back. They didn’t like the taste of their own.
It wouldn’t take long now.
The smell of urine snagged me, and I looked down to find that Smitty had pissed himself. Not that I could blame him. Death by zeds wasn’t an easy way to go, but it was easier than he deserved.
The two zeds drenched in Eddy’s blood sniffed at the air and turned toward the HEMTT. At least a dozen zeds were already on the way from every direction. Jase killed another that had reached the truck.
Eddy’s foot jerked.
Smitty tensed. “Don’t do this. Please.”
The two zeds reached the truck. Jase impaled the first, a male. He paused before killing what had been Eddy’s mother. He inhaled. Then thrust.
What had been Eddy climbed to its feet. Blood was already congealing and browning around its throat and shoulder. It turned to the HEMTT and started jogging toward us.
Tyler turned. “Now.”
We shoved Smitty off, and he collapsed, with his wrists still restrained, onto the ground ten feet below. He hopped up and started to run.
