The Dead Series (Book 4): Dead End

by Jon Schafer

  Near Jasper, Texas:

  Tick-Tock banged a crowbar in a steady beat against the tire rim hanging from the roll bar of the Jeep Wrangler as he yelled, “All-e-all-e-in-come-free. Come out, come out wherever you are.”

  The Jeep bounced heavily, almost throwing him over the side.

  Angrily, he called to the driver, “Take it easy. You almost tossed me to the wolves.”

  “Sorry, sir,” the woman replied. “Some of these holes are so overgrown that I can’t see them until I hit them. Are we close enough yet?”

  Looking at the mob of dead following them, then at the road only a hundred feet to their front, Tick-Tock slid into the passenger seat and said, “Yeah, we’re close enough. Even the dead-asses can’t miss us. Get us onto the blacktop.”

  The Jeep accelerated, bouncing so hard that Tick-Tock told the driver to slow down.

  “Sorry, sir,” she replied. “I just hate being this close to those things.”

  “Well, this is the last of them, so you can relax for a little while,” Tick-Tock told her. “There are going to be a few stragglers here and there, but the guys from the smaller forts can deal with them.” Seeing relief on the woman’s face, Tick-Tock added, “My guess is that we’ll move to the west after this, so don’t relax too much.”

  The Jeep bounced onto the road, its ride smoothing out enough for Tick-Tock to climb in the back again. This was his second trip into the boonies to draw in the dead, and his arm felt like lead from swinging the crowbar. Despite this, he started rhythmically striking the tire rim again.

  Judging the distance between the dead and their Jeep, he called out for the driver to slow down, explaining that they wanted to draw the Zs in, not outrun them. Looking ahead, he saw where the trees started on either side of the road to create a thick barrier on either side of it. These would act as a funnel to keep the dead bunched up. Fifty feet further on, he spotted a red line spray painted from one side to the other on the asphalt.

  “We’re almost in the zone,” he yelled to be heard above the whining of the dead. “Slow down just a little. We want to make sure we get as many as we can. Try to keep us about ten or fifteen feet in front of the fastest ones.”

  The driver nodded, switching her fearful gaze between the rearview mirror and the road in front of her.

  Tick-Tock looked at the trailing mass of dead, their bodies torn and twisted as they loped, scurried and scampered after the food that stayed just out of reach. Most of them were completely nude, showing a variety of gruesome wounds that leaked black fluid, but a few were dressed. Looking closer at these Zs, Tick-Tock could see dried blood staining their clothes to mingle with the black ochre leaking out of their bodies. Glancing to the south, he guessed that a stronghold somewhere had recently been overrun and its occupants zombified.

  Thinking of Steve and hoping that he and the others had made it safely to Arkansas, he wondered how long it would be until the doctors in Russellville came up with a way to eradicate the dead. A few days? A few weeks? Looking to the north, a feeling suddenly washed over him. Not knowing why, he was suddenly sure that his friends were safe and a cure would be coming out soon.

  Shaking his head as he looked at the freshly made dead, he whispered, “Poor bastards. If you could have only hung on for a little longer.”

  His driver interrupted his thoughts by calling out, “We just crossed the first line.”

  Turning his attention to a second one painted further down the road, he said, “Keep it steady, we’re almost there.”

  Looking to the right, Tick-Tock could see the first of the porcupines tucked back in the brush. They had set up ten in total, staggering them on either side of the road. Gauging the size of the group they had trailing behind them, he guessed they would have to fire six of them. The first group he had led into the kill zone had been bigger, spreading outside of the ambush to its front and rear by fifty feet. The dead-asses the ambush missed were easily taken care of with small arms fire, but it had been a big waste of ammunition. More darts could be made, but there was no one manufacturing bullets anymore.

  When he saw they were three-quarters of the way through the kill zone, Tick-Tock told the driver to speed up. She wasted no time in mashing the accelerator and speeding over the second red line. Stopping a hundred feet past it, she turned in her seat to watch the slaughter.

  The dead came on in a relentless wave, pushing each other out of the way in their eagerness to be the first to dig into the food that had stopped only a short distance away. Tick-Tock almost laughed out loud when it appeared that one of them was actually sticking its foot out to trip the others next to it. Looking closer, he saw that half of the Z’s leg had been chewed off, causing it to swing out sideways with each step. Those that fell were trampled by the mass of reanimated flesh coming up behind them, some to rise again after they passed, but some suffering crushed skulls by the tromping feet of their brethren.

  Seeing that the herd was completely in the kill zone, Tick-Tock lifted his radio and pushed the transmit button. Holding it close to his mouth, he said, “Let her rip.”

  Hidden in trees, the ‘triggers’, as they were called, yanked on lanyards attached to retaining pins. These released the boards that slapped forward against the darts sticking out from the back of the porcupine.

  With the now familiar sound of a loud twang, followed almost immediately by a thump ringing in his ears, Tick-Tock watched the devastation wrought on the dead. Black ochre flew in all directions as the darts made contact with dead flesh, boring through the skulls and into the brains of the Zs. A few fell immediately, but most stood for a second before dropping en masse to the blacktop. It almost reminded him of a game of ring-around-the-rosy when they all fell down.

  Lifting his M4, he ordered his driver to turn around. Proceeding slowly back to the kill zone, he watched the triggers come out of the brush and start dispatching the crawlers, children, and anything else that was below the flat arc of darts thrown at them. Using a variety of bows and arrows and spears, they were done with the cleanup in minutes.

  When he saw the trucks coming down the road to pick up the porcupines and their crew, Tick-Tock ordered his driver to head for Fort Redoubt. Their work here might be done, but there was still plenty to do to the west.

  Leaning back in his seat, Tick-Tock let the wind blow over him as he relaxed for what felt like the first time in days. Part one of their plan had gone off without a hitch, and now it was time to finish off part two. If it looked like plan two was going to fail, he had his own personal plan three.

  Switching on his hand-held radio, he turned it to the frequency being used by the units out of Fort Redoubt before pushing the transmit button and saying, “Mobile twelve to Mobile one, Commander Styles, come back, over.”

  The reply was almost instant. “This is Styles, over.”

  “We’re finished down here, and I’m on our way back to fort number two to link up with the rest of my people and head back to Redoubt, over,” Tick-Tock told him.

  “Negative, Mobile twelve,” Rick said forcefully. “You are to proceed up Highway sixty-three as fast as you can and link up with the other units from Redoubt. I’ve already recalled your people, and they will meet you on the road, over.”

  “What’s going on, over?” Tick-Tock asked.

  After a few seconds, Rick replied, “We had the herd bottlenecked about ten miles from Redoubt where the Highway comes closest to the lake, but part of the main group split off to the north. They’re heading along the shore, directly for the fort. I’ve diverted some of the units on the highway to deal with them, so I need you and your people to take their place, over.”

  Tick-Tock was about to reply when someone cut in on the frequency and said urgently, “This is Jackson at fort number one. We just got a report that a huge group of dead are coming at us from the south. Request orders, over.”

  Pressing the transmit button, Tick-Tock said, “This is Mobile twelve, Jackson. Be informed that we just finished up with th
e last of them, over.”

  “This is a new herd,” the woman replied. “One of our mobile units was out looking for stragglers and ran into them a few minutes ago. They’ve already made it through Jasper and are heading north-northeast, over.”

  “What’s their size, over?” Rick asked.

  “Between four and five thousand,” Jackson replied. “Our guys estimated their numbers when they crossed the open area to the north of town, over.”

  Another voice suddenly broke in saying, “This is Mobile five, and we have reports from Fort Redoubt that they have dead-asses coming at them from the direction of the lake. They were stopped at the outer fence, but more keep showing up. We’re on our way to reinforce them, over.”

  Before anyone could reply, the radio erupted with more reports from units scattered all over the area of the dead coming at them from different directions. None of the herds of Zs were large, but no one seemed to know where they were coming from.

  Finally breaking in through the chatter, Rick ordered everyone to regroup at their nearest rally point and await further orders.

  Hearing on the radio that the dead were popping up all over the place, the Jeep’s driver slowed and started pulling over to the side of the road so she could listen.

  Noticing this, Tick-Tock ordered, “Get this thing in gear and get us moving.”

  Sitting up straight in her seat at his commanding tone, she replied crisply, “Yes, sir. I’m heading for Highway Sixty-three right now, sir.”

  “Belay that,” Tick-Tock told her. “I want you to head for Fort Redoubt as fast as you can.”

  She nodded and floored the accelerator, making the rear end of the Jeep slew back and forth until she got it under control. Cringing slightly, she waited for a reprimand.

  Deep in thought, Tick-Tock’s only thoughts were on Denise and plan three.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Russellville, Arkansas:

  Major Cage could barely contain his fury as he looked at the scorched interior of the radio room. Turning to Staff Sergeant Fagan, he asked, “What in the hell happened here?”

  “They think it was an electrical fire, Major,” Fagan answered. “The operator left the room to go to the latrine, and when she came back and opened the door, the rush of air fed the flames and blew her back against the far wall.”

  Concerned about the operator, the anger left Cage’s voice as he asked, “How is she?”

  “She’s got second and third degree burns over the front of her body. The medic said that he doubted she would make it through the night, sir.”

  “Call for a medevac,” Cage ordered, the words barely out of his mouth when he realized the folly in his statement. Looking down at the charred remains of the operator’s chair, he added, “As you were.”

  “No calls going in or out for a while, sir,” Fagan commented on the state of the room. “The next contact we’ll have with the outside world is tomorrow morning, when the resupply chopper gets here. They can bring us back a new radio on their next run.”

  Looking closely at the mess around him, Cage realized that while everything was scorched by flames and blackened by smoke, none of the equipment seemed to be completely gutted by the fire.

  “Do we have someone who can fix this?” he asked.

  “Specialist Canady was the only one with the technical knowledge, sir,” Fagan informed him.

  “Was?” Cage asked. After a second, he understood and added, “And she’s got second and third degree burns.”

  Fagan nodded and said, “The rest of the men and women that worked in here were just operators. Canady was the only one with any technical knowledge, sir.”

  “I don’t like being out of contact, but it looks like we have no choice but to wait for the resupply chopper tomorrow,” Cage said. Shifting position, he could feel the grit from the fire grind under his boots, so he added, “What we need to do first is to get a couple of people to clean up in here. When they come to replace the radio, I don’t want anything holding them up. Once you’ve got that underway, I want you to come to the office. The people that brought the little girl in are waiting for us, and I want you to be there when I debrief them.”

  “Do you really think this might all be over soon, sir?” Fagan asked.

  “From what Connors told me, she’s close to the anti-virus,” Cage answered.

  Fagan waved the remark away and said, “I know that, sir, but it just seems unreal that with everything going on that a ten-year-old girl holds the key to end it all. It’s kind of hard to believe.”

  “It’s easy enough to have hope and belief,” Cage told him. “All you have to do is make a decision to do it. You have to remember, though, that once the dead are gone, it won’t be the end.” Seeing Fagan didn’t understand this, he added, “We’ve still got to rebuild everything.”

  Seeing Major Cage’s conviction was enough for Fagan. He decided that he would believe that the Major believed until he could believe it himself. Calling through the door, he said in his best parade ground voice, “Tully and Whitmore, I want you to get some brooms, mops, rags and water and clean this mess up.” Turning back to Cage, he said, “Let’s go debrief the civilians, sir.”

  ***

  Cain entered Professor Hawkins’ office and snapped to attention before saying crisply, “My men have taken up defensive positions inside the farmhouse, sir.” With a wink, he added in a dry voice, “And they’re ready to fight to the death to protect you and the Malectron from the dirty seditionists trying to steal it.”

  Hawkins smiled and asked, “So they bought the story about Cage and his men trying to take it?”

  “Hook, line, and sinker,” Cain answered as he dropped into a chair. “I even threw in that the Major might be working for the Russians. I got the idea from what you had me tell Fort Polk about foreign troops being in the area.”

  Hawkins laughed and said, “Good, good. Now if Cage tries anything, we’ll be able to hold him off until the helicopters get here. Did you check if my assistant is finished with the preparations for my test?”

  “I just came from the basement, and everything is almost ready,” Cain answered. “Jim said we would be good to go in about an hour.”

  Checking his watch, Hawkins frowned and said, “That will cut it a little close. The choppers are going to be here in two hours.”

  “But you’re using fourth generation dead in the test,” Cain told him. “The time from infection to reanimation shortens the further down the line you go.”

  Hawkins sighed and said, “I guess it will have to do. I just wanted the chance to study the effects, or lack of effects, for a little longer.”

  “Once you’re set up in D.C., you can do all the testing you want, Professor,” Cain told him.

  Waving him off, Hawkins said, “I’ll be too busy working on the Malectron. The little girl and the rest of them are disposable.”

  Rubbing his sore jaw, Cain said, “I wish you would let me dispose of them now.”

  With a wry grin, Hawkins asked, “A little miffed that a mere woman got the drop on you?”

  “I’m just curious why we’ve let them live so long,” Cain grumbled, not wanting to let his boss know the truth.

  “We need the little girl for now,” Hawkins explained. “As for Connors and the woman, I’m keeping them alive in case we need hostages.”

  “Hostages,” Cain said in a curious voice. “But my men can defend us if Cage and his people try anything. We’ll cut them down before they can get within a dozen feet of the front door.”

  “And what about the back door?” Cain asked.

  Cain snorted in derision and said, “They have to approach from the front to get around to the rear, and we’ve got a clear view all across the camp. Besides, the only way into the house from the back is the coal chute, and God help anyone that drops in there.”

  Hawkins countered by saying, “But you must remember that the greatest victory is when nary a shot is fired. When the helicopters get here, I want to get
on them free and clear, not running through the middle of a firefight. I want you to bring Connors and the woman down to the lab for now, but if Cage and his people try anything, we’ll bring them onto the porch and put guns to their heads and threaten to kill them. You have to remember that the Major is a civilized man and won’t risk harming the hostages. When the helicopters get here, we can use the women as shields to get to the landing pad. Once we’re off the ground, I don’t care what you do with them. Keep them as play toys or get rid of them at your leisure, it makes no difference to me. Just keep them out of my hair.”

  “They won’t be a bother for too long,” Cain said quietly, a smile breaking out on his face at the thought of pushing the woman named Heather out of a chopper at three thousand feet.

  Fort Redoubt:

  Tick-Tock heard the sound of gunfire grow in volume as they neared the fort. Trying to pinpoint its source, he realized after a few seconds that it seemed to come from everywhere. He tried the radio again to let them know he was coming in but gave up in frustration. It seemed like everyone was breaking in at the same time, clogging the channel with a lot of useless information.

  He had listened to their chatter on the short drive to the fort and wasn’t surprised to hear the gradual breakdown of discipline. No one was giving their position or what they were up against, so there was no way to put together any kind of successful counterattack. Then it got worse. With the dead coming at the fort from three directions, most of the troops were breaking ranks and heading for the hills or hightailing it to their loved ones.

  This helped to relieve the guilt he was feeling at what he was about to do.

  Rounding a bend in the road, Tick-Tock spotted the outer fence. Relief washed through him when he saw that the gate was still manned. With everyone running blind and the dead coming at them fast, he figured it would be abandoned or overrun. He was also relieved to see armed men and women spread out along the length of the fence, telling him that not everyone had run.