The Hunt Chronicles (Volume 3): Crusade
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General Bolduc motioned to the rest of his group, and they all rose and followed him out the door. All but Luke, that is.
“Mind if I stick around?” Luke asked.
Dobson exchanged looks with Campbell, who gave a brief nod.
“Alright Captain. We can use the next twenty-four hours and send our drones into Scab Country,” Dobson said, pointing to the area on the map.
“Sir, I have another idea,” Campbell offered.
“That is?”
Campbell cleared his throat.
“What if we help them?”
“Help them? How?” Dobson glared at Luke for a moment before he continued. “We can’t sacrifice any supplies or ammunition and definitely not any fuel.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Campbell shook his head. “We could scout ahead for them, maybe even retake or help them scavenge Lake City. That would let them leave some of their fighters back here to defend the compound. Christian was right, this plan of theirs is full of holes.”
“I know,” Dobson agreed. “But we can’t save…”
His eyes locked on mine as his words trailed off. He was going to say we couldn’t save everyone. But that argument held no water with me anymore, and I was beginning to think it wouldn’t hold up against a lot of our crew.
“How could you help?” Luke asked before the Major could recover.
Fish stepped in.
“Well, Nomad, while all of your people were running around trying to avoid danger the last few months, we were driving into the middle of it. Big Red, our fire engine out there, is designed to go into heavily populated Zulu zones. We did it almost daily back where we came from, and have good tactical knowledge on how to operate around these things. We also have drones that can scout ahead, find danger spots and safe zones.”
“Seems we’re a little behind the power curve,” Luke let out a breath. “It hasn’t been easy. No time to regroup, get our shit together. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“Maybe we can go all the way to Georgia with them,” Campbell presented. “Then we can head west across a bridge that is still intact.”
“Truthfully,” Luke said, “we don’t know how far up the Navy struck. Might be quite a haul.”
“And put weeks or even months on our journey…” Dobson added.
I was about to speak when Dobson raised a finger to silence everyone and walked over to the large map.
“I think I have an idea on how we all can win.”
CHAPTER 11
The Plan and the Reaper
August 13th Afternoon
“Dear God…” General Bolduc breathed. “Turn that smut off!”
When the General and his staff returned, Dobson had confronted them with his plan. It was, to my surprise, a very good plan. All aspects of it seemed plausible, doable, and…believe it or not, noble.
In the beginning, when Dobson told them about the Taylor family, the local farmers, and the Bogdon Textile Mill, the General and his people were uncertain. Going into an unknown area, befriending the locals, convincing them that they were there to help, and assaulting the Bogdon miscreants was a lot for us to ask.
The notion of going somewhere with the intentions of attacking a group of living humans did not sit well with any of them. The only exception was Sergeant Burghardt, who simply shrugged.
That all changed when Major Dobson tossed the cell phone I had recovered in front of the General. He lasted two minutes before he couldn’t watch any more.
“How could anyone do that to a young girl?” Jodi exclaimed. “That’s barbaric.”
“It’s not just her,” I said. “Dozens, maybe more. And they murdered people in cold blood.”
“The Bogdons pretend to be soldiers,” Dobson explained. “They sucker people in, take what they want, and kill the rest. They have that whole community on lockdown.”
“Even better,” Fish added, “they’ve cleared around twenty square miles of Zulus and scabs. It’s a large area to maintain, but if you can find key areas to fortify and network quick response units, this area could be a new beginning.”
“And what if we have another Chicago?” Sheriff Green asked. “What if Orlando or Tampa burn? We could be looking at a couple million Zeds heading into the farm lands.”
“True,” Campbell agreed, “but it’s different in South Florida. The ground is wet and marshy. There are miles of swamp land that will hamper the Zulus if they try to migrate.”
The Sheriff nodded acceptingly, but then scowled.
“There is still the issue of attacking that mill you told us about. We don’t have a lot of soldiers, maybe fifty of us could attack. They’re fortified. It could be a slaughter.”
“First, we have intel,” Campbell explained. “We have video footage of the entire complex. You will know their setup, or at least what their setup was when we left. Second, we’re pretty sure we have their only heavy gun. That 240 on top of our fire truck was theirs. Third, we have already killed seven of them, which should bring their numbers below thirty. And lastly—”
“They’re rank amateurs!” Fish spat. “Untrained, no discipline. Hell, the kid here took out two of them. Not saying you will come out unscathed, but I’m pretty sure it will be a turkey shoot. You have a combat leader here,” he motioned to the General, “these assholes only know how to pick on the weak.”
General Bolduc stood and paced a moment. He stopped and glared at the cell phone on the table, his mind clearly still dwelling on the horrific images.
“Okay. Even if we didn’t need a place to jump to, these Bogdons do not belong on the same planet as me. However, we still have one major issue.”
“You need fuel and food to make it there?” Campbell guessed.
The General nodded.
“We have that figured out, sir,” Dobson said, moving to the map.
He raised the yard stick and tapped the red area south of Lake City.
“No offense to your people, but the chances of them getting into the refugee camp and holding it are pretty damn slim. If there are ten thousand Zulus, that means you need a minimum of twenty thousand bullets.”
General Bolduc nodded. “Agreed. Point?”
Dobson turned, holding the yardstick with both hands.
“A small group can infiltrate the area using our drones to find the path of least resistance. Using drones is a fairly new idea to us, but even before we used them to scout ahead, we perfected snatch and grab scavenging operations. We’re good at it.”
“So you’re volunteering,” Jodi stated. “And then what?”
“We should be able to locate everything we need to grab before we get there. We bring enough extra bodies to drive the supply and POL trucks back. We spend a couple of days here, prep your vehicles, and then you head south,” Dobson concluded.
“What’s the catch?” Sheriff Green asked.
The General sighed. “I’m inclined to agree with Nate. What do you want from us?”
“They want volunteers to go with them through Scab Country,” Luke said before anyone else could answer.
“Excuse me?” Jodi asked sharply.
Dobson exhaled. “Volunteers, yes. We’re not asking you to order anyone to go with us. But we have to go, and I don’t know if we can make it on our own. However, we do plan on taking a Stryker if there is one left at the refugee camp.”
“We could use those Strykers when we assault the Bogdon Mill,” Sergeant Burghardt pointed out. “Why give them to you?”
“You wouldn’t be giving us one. We would be taking one from the refugee camp. You said there were other Strykers there, right?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “But again, we could use them.”
“If they’re willing to put their asses on the line to retrieve those supplies, that’s fair,” the Sheriff argued, and then glared at Dobson. “However, asking us to sacrifice some of our people for this trip? Well,” he chuckled, “that’s pushing it.”
“I’ve told you how vital our mission is,”
Dobson said, turning to the General.
“Yes, you have,” General Bolduc said, glancing up at the ceiling and then back to the Major with a steely glare.
“But… it seems to me, that even if you make it through Scab Country, your chances of making it to Hoover Dam are slim. I understand she is a specialist on this virus,” he said with a gesture toward Julia, “but, with all due respect Doctor, you’re just one person. I’m an educated man. I understand the fundamentals of virology. If, by some miracle, they can come up with a vaccine, I have little doubt they can do it without you, though it may take a little longer.”
“General,” Doctor Tripp began, but the man continued.
“I think maybe it would be best if you stayed with us. Do not misunderstand. I would not force you, but I cannot condone sending my people to an almost certain death for a cause that may not be fruitful.”
Doctor Tripp visibly squirmed. Dobson frowned. Fish grimaced. Campbell sighed. We were losing the argument. I knew what could save us, but I never got a chance to say it.
“General,” Luke said softly, “a moment?”
General Bolduc nodded and the two moved off to a corner in the unit. Our group condensed and spoke in hushed tones.
“What’s this about?” Dobson whispered.
“Nomad is good people,” Fish whispered back. “He might be backing us up.”
Though Fish and Dobson were talking quietly, it still hurt my concentration as I tried to listen to what Luke and General Bolduc were discussing.
I took a couple of steps away, but only caught short phrases from Luke like “more to” and “hiding something”.
That made me both excited and terrified. Was Luke conspiring or assisting? Did he notice my scars while I was checked for bites?
A cold shiver washed over me as Luke nodded in my direction. The General turned and glared at me. Luke knew something. Probably knew the thing. Was this good? Bad? I didn’t know. Before I could react, though, the two broke their huddle and returned to the table.
“You’re not telling me everything, Dobson,” the General said coldly. I noted the lack of rank when he addressed the Major.
Dobson glanced at Fish and then back to the General.
Dobson’s reply was slow, as if edging for time.
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, General. I’ve said everything I’ve needed to.”
Dobson stayed still, but I noticed Fish’s hand slowly migrate toward his .45. Not enough to grab attention from anyone else, but I knew that stance.
I glanced over to Luke. He knew that stance as well, and was slowly shaking his head, warning Fish off. Fish just smirked in return.
General Bolduc turned to me.
“Remove your shirt, son,” he ordered.
“Not going to happen, General,” Dobson said as tension in the room rose significantly.
“Sergeant!” the General barked.
Burghardt’s hand went to the pistol grip of his rifle, but before he could fully get ahold of the weapon, Fish had pulled not only his .45, but his left hand had yanked Campbell’s 9mm out of its holster.
One pistol was aimed at the General, the other at Sergeant Burghardt’s head.
“I wish you wouldn’t have crossed that line, General,” Fish said regretfully.
“I’m already a dead man,” General Bolduc was stoic, expressionless.
“Only if someone does something stupid,” Fish returned evenly.
The General shook his head, realizing he didn’t get his point across.
“Reaper, back down,” Luke hissed.
I glanced at Nomad and saw that he, too, had his gun out. Unlike Fish, his was only raised at waist level, but the barrel was beelined at Fish’s head.
“Ain’t happenin’, Nomad. Lower your weapon,” Fish shot back.
“This is madness!” Jodi cried. “What the hell is going on?”
“Lady,” Fish grumbled, “I like you, but shut the hell up.”
“He’s been bitten, hasn’t he?” General Bolduc asked with a nod toward me. I noticed there was no fear in the man’s eyes. He had faced death before in the form of cancer, and wasn’t wavering now.
“I saw the scars, Reaper,” Luke said. “On his arms and one on the shoulder.”
Doctor Tripp lifted her hands.
“Can everyone please calm down! Fish, lower your guns,” she said, attempting to diffuse the situation. It didn’t work.
“Can it, Doc. Let the Neanderthals do their thing,” he sneered.
Doctor Tripp rolled her eyes, and then addressed the General.
“Yes, he has been bitten. More than once, in fact. The first time was the day of the Awakening. I’m not the mission,” she pointed her finger at me. “He is! We have to get him to Hoover Dam.”
“Shut up, Doc,” Fish hissed.
Doctor Tripp took a step to the side, partially blocking me from those across the table.
“Why hasn’t he changed yet?” General Bolduc demanded.
“We don’t know,” Julia sighed. “But, as near as I can tell, the virus either doesn’t affect him or is nonexistent in his body.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell us?” Sheriff Green spat. “Hiding something like this—”
“If you had the one thing that could save all of mankind, would you advertise it to everyone you meet?” Dobson cut him off.
General Bolduc sucked in a deep breath and let it out.
“Lower your weapons,” he ordered.
“Not a chance, General,” Fish responded.
“Not you, First Sergeant,” the General said softly, then turned to his people. “Lower your weapons. Eject the magazines and lay them on the table.”
“Sir…” Luke cautioned as he eyed Fish.
There was no doubt that Luke knew Fish better than anyone here, including me. They had served together. Fought wars, shared meals, killed together. That gave me pause. Did he think Fish would kill all of them in cold blood? What would make him think that? How dark was Fish’s past?
“I’m not in the habit of begging, Luke,” the General said harshly.
Luke pursed his lips.
“Yes, sir,” he said and lowered his pistol. He quickly ejected the magazine and cleared the chamber. Sergeant Burghardt, regretfully, did the same. Both weapons clattered onto the table.
“You, too, Nate,” General Bolduc raised an eyebrow at the Sheriff.
“I don’t like it, General,” he shot back.
“Neither do I. But if we’re going to have a conversation, it would be best if it didn’t start with my head getting blown off. I’m not ready to go just yet.”
Sheriff Green bit his lower lip, and then nodded. A second later, his gun, along with General Bolduc’s side arm, was on the table.
“Now,” the General said as he took his seat, “we can have a conversation.”
I noticed Fish had yet to lower his pistols and it unnerved me.
“I think we’ve talked too much,” Fish growled.
“First Sergeant,” Dobson warned, “lower your weapons.”
“Yes sir, Major,” Fish said derisively.
“I said lower, not put away.”
Fish cocked an eyebrow.
“Alright, let’s talk,” Fish said as he took a seat. He lowered his pistols, resting them on the table top.
Dobson followed suit and soon everyone but Burghardt did the same.
“Now you know,” Dobson said as the tension slowly drained away.
“I can understand why you kept it from us, but you can also understand our fear. Bringing someone that has been bitten in here is a pretty big reason for concern.” General Bolduc tapped his fingers on the table, waiting for a response.
“Of course, we understand, General,” Doctor Tripp said, trying to smooth everything over.
“I don’t like having a gun put to my head, either,” the General stated. “But I can see why you would be…defensive.” General Bolduc’s eyes lingered on me.
Fish glared crossl
y at Luke. “When did you figure it out?”
“I saw him undressed. Can’t hide those scars. They don’t all look like bite wounds, but some did.”
“Should have left him with the others,” Dobson muttered.
“I don’t think so, Major,” the General disagreed. “It’s good that we know. It’s good for us to see hope. Not everyone is like those Bogdons. I didn’t have much faith in a vaccine up until this moment. A living, breathing person that is immune means his antibodies can be cultured.”
Doctor Tripp chuckled. I think she liked the idea that not everyone here was ignorant of her field of study.
“How did he come to be immune?” the General asked.
“Christian?” Dobson said, opening the floor to me.
I quickly told them of my situation. How I got bit on the first day, that time at the Ace Hardware compound when Chuck and I rescued Karina, and finally, the night of horror in the dental office. By the time I had finished, the mood in the room was calm acceptance.
“So, it’s not just a fluke,” Sheriff Green proclaimed.
“No,” Doctor Tripp agreed. “One bite could easily be explained as sheer luck. Christian has been bitten thirteen times, eleven of which were in the same night. There is no question that he is immune.”
We talked some more, and though Burghardt was still a little irritated that Fish had drawn on him, the conversation had turned positive. The General and his people saw a glimmer of light in a very dark reality, and it was infectious.
“This does change things, Major,” the General concluded after an hour. He stood up and stretched. “I will explain things to my people. Maybe we will get some volunteers for you after all.”
“Thank you, sir,” Dobson smiled as he rose from his seat. The rest of us followed their lead.
“And I must say,” General Bolduc went on, “this idea of going after the Bogdon Mill seems more and more appealing as I think about it. Enough farm land and animals to support our people. Blood will have to be shed, of that I am sure, but it is the right thing to do.”
Dobson shot me a look at those last words and winked.
I had to give it to the Major. Maybe he wasn’t as cold about our mission as I had thought. In his mind, he was doing the right thing when we left the Bogdons to their devices. It didn’t mean he agreed with what they were doing. Leadership, I realized, comes with a cost of conscience. And I felt that was a price I wasn’t ever willing to pay.