Bad Company

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Bad Company Page 11

by Joshua C. Chadd


  “I see you’re showing our newest assistant around, Dr. Nelson,” said a man with black hair and a stern smile as he walked out of the office closest to the stairs. This must be Dr. Hart.

  Alexis immediately disliked the man. He reminded her of Father Ahaz, with the same stern look and holier-than-thou tone in his voice like she was a mere mortal and he was far above her. No, she didn’t like him at all. There was also something about him that seemed familiar, as if she’d met him before, or maybe he resembled someone she knew.

  “We just completed the tour,” Henry said.

  “In that case,” Dr. Hart said. “Ms. Wolfe, I have a job for you.”

  He brushed past them into the exam room they’d just left, and she begrudgingly followed.

  “I assume you recognize most of the items in here?” Dr. Hart asked.

  “Of course,” Alexis said, trying to hold back her sudden anger. Who did this man think he was?

  “Good,” Dr. Hart said. “Restock the supplies in all of the exam rooms. Then, when you’re done with that, organize the supply closet. I hear it’s a mess.”

  Without even waiting for her to respond, he walked out of the room, heading straight for his office. She had to use all of her self-control not to flip him off, and she wondered where this sudden anger was coming from. Yes, he reminded her of Father Ahaz, but that didn’t mean he was a bad guy. He just had one of those personalities that always rubbed her the wrong way.

  “Sorry about that,” Henry said. “Dr. Hart is a very… brisk man. But he’s not all bad, and you’ll get used to working with him.”

  “I’m sure,” Alexis said. “Do you have a notepad or something I can take stock with?”

  “Yeah, there’s a tablet at your desk. I’ll show you.”

  They exited the room and Henry led her over to her new office area. It contained a simple metal desk with a computer sitting on top and an office chair behind it. She’d be tucked into a corner next to Henry’s office with a view of the hallway, stairs, and both office doors. It wasn’t a bad location since no one could come and go without her seeing them—another of her dad’s habits that had worn off on her.

  “If you need anything else, I’ll be in here,” Henry said, walking to his office.

  “Thanks, Henry,” Alexis said.

  “No problem,” Henry said as he closed the door behind him.

  Time to get to work, Alexis thought, grabbing the tablet and walking back into the first exam room.

  A couple of hours later, she had taken stock of all the rooms. The first two rooms on either side of the hallway needed the most, and surprisingly, the far right room needed supplies, too. It looked like it’d been recently used, which wasn’t necessarily odd. It was just Henry’s comment about not using the far rooms that had gotten her thinking. A small part of her wondered if she was just being paranoid because of all she’d been through, but she shoved those thoughts aside. Descending the stairs, she entered the first room to the left, next to the staircase. Boxes of various medical supplies were scattered around the floor and on the shelves.

  “He wasn’t kidding about it being a mess,” she muttered to herself as she began to look around for the items she needed.

  Her work was interrupted as the front doors to the infirmary opened and voices carried to her. Instinctively, she quickly stood up and turned the light off, casting the room into darkness. The door to the storage room was open a crack, letting a shaft of light in. She walked up to it as two men in black uniforms moved down the hall towards the locked door housing the pharmaceuticals. They were pushing a small cart with a sheet over it, hiding the contents. Stopping outside the door, they looked around and she shied back a little. Content that they weren’t being watched, one of the men entered a code into the keypad. Alexis was too far away to actually see what the code was as they opened the door and entered. Inside the room, there were a couple of shelves with various pharmaceuticals on them. There was also a third uniformed man standing against the far wall next to a newer-looking metal door. The door was closing behind the men with the cart, and she caught one last glimpse as the third man opened the door leading to the basement and white light poured out.

  She waited for a few minutes to make sure they didn’t come back out and then opened the storage room door fully and turned the light back on. She returned to her task but kept one eye on the hallway, waiting for the men to come out. After twenty minutes, they still hadn’t, so she gathered her supplies and went back upstairs to finish her job. Maybe her mistrust of Dr. Hart was well founded. If he had the code to get in there, he must know what was going on. What were they hiding?

  15

  Helping Hand

  Tank stood on the seat in Scourge, his head poking out of the hatch on top. Finally, he was the one who was going to mow down some undead or hostiles with his SAW, although he couldn’t help cringing at the thought of James driving. He had to remind himself that James was as good a driver as he was. It was just that this rig was like Tank’s baby, and he didn’t like other people driving his baby. It was his precious. He chuckled a little to himself; he was starting to sound like Gollum.

  His mirth faded as they crested a high point in the landscape and the town of Sunburst came into view. He adjusted himself and checked his SAW. Everything was ready to rock and roll.

  “I see the town,” Tank called to the brothers below.

  “Roger that,” Connor said. “I got eyes on it, too.”

  “He said the building was east of town,” James said. “Keep an eye on that area.”

  Tank looked to the east, now able to see the building they were heading to as it became distinguishable from the rest of the landscape. It was a large building with a red metal roof. A few vehicles sat in the parking lot, but he didn’t see any movement of either undead or survivors. There was a chance that there were people staying there who might not have seen Scourge yet, but once they drove closer, they’d know. James slowed just before Exit 389, the customs building only a few hundred yards to their left. There was still no movement.

  “I don’t see anythin’,” Tank said.

  “I see nothing from down here either,” James said.

  “Stick with the plan and be ready,” Connor said, hoisting his rifle.

  The windows in Scourge didn’t roll down, so if they got into any trouble, Tank would be on his own, which simply meant more fun for him. The thought made him smile, even though he knew it was to cover his nerves.

  James turned off the interstate and drove onto the road leading to the target building. They closed in on it and Tank kept a sharp eye peeled. It seemed as if the survivors may have left since he still saw no sign of anyone. Arriving at the building, James took the driveway leading to the parking lot.

  “Drive around it a few times,” Connor said. “See if we can get ‘em to come out.”

  “Got it,” James said. “Watch yourself up there.”

  “Oh, I am,” Tank said.

  Tank’s eyes flicked to movement by one of the vehicles, but it was just a yellow plastic bag that was stuck in a window, blowing in the wind. They did an entire circuit around the building and then a second one. If anyone was there, they were staying hidden inside.

  “Now what?” James asked as they pulled to a stop in the parking lot.

  Tank ducked back in. “Not sure.”

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

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” James said.

  “Well, hell,” Tank said. “Nothin’ like goin’ into a buildin’ potentially full of hostiles.”

  “We’ll do this carefully,” Connor said as James turned the rig off.

  “Let’s check and see what doors are unlocked,” James said.

  “Be ready for anythin’,” Tank said.

  Tank picked up his helmet, turning the headset on. Emmett had finally shown them how to use these, and they’d sure come in handy today, especially if they had to split up. Cl
imbing out, he grabbed his daypack and the brothers followed suit. James tossed the keys to Tank, who pocketed them.

  “Can you hear me?” Connor whispered into his headset.

  “Gotcha,” Tank said.

  “Loud and clear,” James said.

  “I’ll take point,” Connor said. “Tank, you follow behind me and be ready with that SAW.”

  “I’ll get our six,” James said.

  Connor led and Tank followed, going to the nearest door. It was locked, so they moved towards the back of the building, checking the next door, which was locked as well. Arriving at the back door, Connor checked it while Tank covered him.

  “Unlocked,” Connor whispered.

  “Let’s check the rest,” James said.

  They moved on, checking the rest of the building. All of the other doors were locked. They couldn’t see what was inside the building because all the window shades were down. The front doors were glass and Tank could see through those, but everything inside looked as he’d expect. Should the need arise, these doors could serve as an alternative exit since they could shoot through the glass if they had to. After checking the entire perimeter of the building, Tank jumped into Scourge and moved it closer to the unlocked back door.

  “We ready?” Connor said, looking at the other two.

  “Let’s do this,” James said, and Tank nodded.

  Connor posted up beside the door and Tank took his stance, ready to open it at Connor’s signal. James hung behind, watching their backs and ready to come in after them. Connor nodded and Tank opened the door. Tank slipped in after Connor, gun up and ready. The interior was dark and Tank quickly clicked the flashlight attached to his SAW. Connor already had his on as he crouched partway into the room behind the cover of some boxes. Tank edged up to Connor as James closed the door behind them, plunging them into darkness.

  The room was large and mainly unfurnished. It looked like a storage room. There were two closed doors on each side of the room, and there was a set of double doors at the far end that would lead into the main part of the building.

  “Let’s check these doors,” James said, “then move in farther.”

  “Roger,” Connor said, moving off to the first door.

  Tank followed him, the three of them staying tight but not too close together.

  “It’s locked,” Connor said, starting to move away. After just a step, he went back to the door and pressed the side of his helmet against it. “I hear something in there.”

  Tank moved up to do the same. Low groans could be heard from inside.

  “Undead,” Tank said.

  “Someone must’ve trapped them in there and locked the door,” James said.

  “That means someone has been here,” Tank said.

  “Proceed with caution,” Connor said, moving to the door on the other side of the room.

  The other three doors were the same—locked with undead groaning from inside.

  “This is weird,” Tank said.

  “There have to be a lot of zombies in here for them to fill four rooms,” James said.

  Looking at the floor, it seemed like the undead had been in there for a while before someone had locked them in the rooms. Maybe a group of survivors had just stayed there for the night, but why not pick a building they didn’t have to clear? Unless this was one of the clearest buildings in the area.

  “They could still be here,” Connor said.

  “We’ll know soon,” James said.

  Tank continued to follow Connor as he walked through the room, head swinging from side to side in search of threats. They were closing in on the double doors when Connor looked down sharply. A few loud pops sounded behind them like firecrackers going off. Tank swung around quickly. The four doors containing all the undead swung open, the locks and handles blown off.

  “What the hell!” Tank said.

  Smoke settled around the doors as the undead began to pour out. Tank brought his SAW up and began to fire on them, taking down one, two, and then three in quick succession, but he might as well have been trying to plug a torpedo hole in a ship with a cork as they continued to pour from the doorways.

  “There’s too many!” James shouted.

  “In here!” Connor yelled, ducking into the room they were heading for.

  Tank shot one more and then followed the brothers through the double doors. As soon as Tank was in, Connor shoved a piece of rebar through the handles of the doors. A curse from James caused Tank to glance back and see him pulling and then pushing on the door leading out, to no avail. Connor swung the ACR at his side into his hands and aimed at the entrance with Tank. The undead slammed against the metal, forcing the double doors to open slightly before the rebar stopped them. The groaning was frantic as a few arms reached through the gap, trying to get to them. James fired a few rounds into the door behind them and then cursed again.

  “Something has it barricaded,” James said.

  “Ya got this?” Tank asked Connor, who nodded.

  Tank turned around to investigate the small room they were trapped in. It seemed that this was the entryway between the main part of the building and the back room. The only exits were the one they’d come through and the one James was currently trying to kick open. There were no windows or other openings they could escape through. They were effectively trapped in there. Something on the wall next to the barricaded door caught Tank’s eye. Walking up to the yellow sheet of paper taped to the wall, he let out a low curse. He recognized the handwriting.

  “Guys,” Tank said, standing next to the paper.

  James quit kicking the door and walked over to him. He began reading the note aloud, but Tank already knew what it said and his stomach sank.

  “Fret not, my dears,” James read out loud. “We will be there shortly to lend a helping hand. J.”

  Tank cursed.

  16

  Safety

  Emmett walked down Second Street toward the Mess Hall for lunch. He’d just come from a meeting with Saul, who needed him to take a leadership role to help out with the day-to-day running of the town. The job was too much for one man, so he wanted Emmett to take over the scouting runs, working with James, Connor, and Tank. Saul was going to make them the official scouting team if their current mission was a success, which would free up quite a bit of their military resources that were normally allocated to those runs. The boys would report to Emmett, who would then report to Saul, who would give Emmett their next orders. He could even go with them if he chose to oversee the runs. He wanted to accept the position. It would finally be something to do, whereas up until then, he’d just been trying to find things to keep himself busy.

  They’d be sent out on runs four to five times a week to look for supplies, survivors, or anything else they needed to keep the town running smoothly. Basically, they’d be glorified errand boys, but he knew they wouldn’t mind. It might also help them establish roots in the town and convince them to stay. He could see what the brothers intended, always keeping their gear packed and not getting too attached to anyone outside their group. They planned to leave and continue their way north. He couldn’t fault them; they had a plan and wanted to see it through to the end. But this place could be a home for them all. It was secure and run by good people who knew what they were doing. Most importantly, Alexis was safe and she could have a life here—a real life, not like what they’d have out on the road, trying to get to Alaska. He had no doubt that it would be safe in Alaska, but he wasn’t sure they’d ever make it.

  Arriving at the Mess Hall, Emmett walked through the doors. It was clever of Saul to set up the schedule like he had, with different people eating at different times. That way, there wasn't a huge rush for meals with everyone in town trying to eat at the same time. Walking up to the serving line, Emmett took a plate and waited to be dished up. After he’d gone through the whole line, his plate was mostly full, and he walked over to his usual table with a view of both entrances. L
ike clockwork, Troy walked over to join him as he did every day.

  “What do you want today?” Emmett asked.

  “I haven't seen Alexis working here the last couple days,” Troy said, sitting down across the table from him.

  “Good deduction,” Emmett said, taking a bite of his food.

  “She's not working here anymore?” Troy asked.

  “Another good deduction,” Emmett said after he’d swallowed.

  “Where’s she working now?” Troy asked, ignoring his own plate of food.

  Emmett continued to eat, pointedly ignoring Troy. After a minute, Troy got the hint and started eating his own food as well. The kid was annoying, and he just couldn't take a hint. He'd been dogging Alexis ever since they'd arrived, and yet, as far as Emmett knew, she hadn't returned any of his interest. But still, he persisted. It was a worthy quality, just highly misplaced in this situation. His time would be much better spent dedicated to whatever job he was supposed to be doing in town.

  “Sheri said something about Alexis being on a date last night,” Troy said, “but I think she was confused.”

  “Nope, she was right,” Emmett said, finishing his food.

  “What?”

  “You heard me,” Emmett said, standing up. “You have yourself a good day now, Troy.”

  Emmett walked off, returning his tray to the pile of other dirty dishes by the kitchen door. He left, sparing Troy a brief glance. The kid sat at the table looking utterly dejected. How Troy hadn't known that Alexis didn't return his feelings was beyond Emmett. Well, he knew now. Emmett figured he should've felt a little bad for being so blunt with the boy, but he just couldn't bring himself to feel that way. Troy had been pestering him every day they'd been there, asking about his daughter, so he didn't feel bad for what he’d done. He didn’t want his daughter to date someone like Troy anyway. He wasn’t all bad, but he was still too much of a kid. He had yet to grow up, and the apocalypse wasn’t helping.

 

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