Dext of the Dead (Book 4): We Are The Extinction

by Kuhn, Steve

  Hook stalked into the bathroom, and we heard him cry out, “Oh shit! No! Goddammit, no!”

  I rushed in to discover Alyse lying in the bathtub unconscious and bleeding from a gunshot wound to her torso. Blood was pooled in the tub, and she had rivulets dripping from the corner of her mouth. Hook was panicked. He put pressure on the wound and screamed, “Heeelp! Somebody, fuckin’ help her!”

  We had to get her outta there. We struggled a bit, but managed to exit the bathroom with me at her feet and Hook, having tucked his bad arm under her shoulder, holding her in the crooks of his elbows. I spotted Cutty and Lilly standing over the hostages, both armed and holding them at bay.

  As we reached the door with Alyse, we were met with a barrage of yelling and calling out of orders. I drew my weapon and aimed it at the group approaching us from down the hallway. I shouted at them, “Get a medic! We have two of your men held hostage, and we have wounded in here. Anybody makes a move, I’m shootin’ this whole place up! Do it now!”

  I glanced back into the room and just saw fear. Hook sat over Alyse’s body, keeping pressure on the wound as it continued to seep blood onto the wet floor. The leaking water started to mix with her blood, causing it to turn a sickly orange color. He whispered to her, “Alyse, baby, stay with me. You can’t go. Please just stay with me.” Then he looked up at me and said, “She’s still breathin’, kid. Get those fuckers movin’. Make ’em hurry up!”

  Cutty left Lilly’s side and walked with a purpose out into the hallway, putting a little Cutty-style on it, shouting, “Ay! Y’all muhfuckas best get a docta up in hurr, or I’m bussin’ caps in all y’all asses.” He then proceeded to punctuate the statement by popping a few rounds into the general direction of the crowd of approaching forces. He didn’t hit anyone and, to be honest, probably couldn’t even if he was trying. They didn’t need to know that, though.

  They all hunkered down and took up covering positions at the bottom of the hallway, but we saw one run off to get help as we backed inside the room.

  It didn’t take too long for a man to approach us cautiously with his hands outstretched, saying, “I’m a doctor. Don’t shoot. Just tell me who needs help. I don’t want anybody dying in here anymore than you do.”

  Cutty yoked him up by his collar and drug him into the room, leaving me to cover the hallway using the doorjamb as a barricade. The men at the end held their positions, but kept their guns trained.

  He knelt over Alyse and began taking vitals, but Hook was screaming in his ear, “You gotta help her. Hurry.”

  The doc was just doing his thing, but that wasn’t enough. Hook stayed on him with, “Fuckin’ do something, dammit! She’s dying!”

  The doc, a youngish guy I guessed to be in his early thirties, stopped what he was doing and told Hook firmly, “I’m doing everything I can. I need you to calm down and back off! I gotta get her outta here.”

  Hook scoffed, “Fuck that! You ain’t takin’ her nowhere. Fix her now!”

  The doc looked at me for some clarity and reiterated, “Look. She’s going to die if we don’t get her into surgery. I need to take her.”

  I hesitated.

  He snapped again, “Clock’s tickin’, folks.”

  “Fine,” I finally told him. “And take the other guy, too. He’s bleeding badly, but I think he’ll be all right.”

  Cutty stopped me, suggesting, “Maybe we oughtta keep him. One hostage ain’t as good as two.”

  I looked the doc right in his eyes and told him, “Take both of them. We’re not killers. We’re not monsters. But we ain’t takin’ any shit either. You’re gonna take her and make sure she lives. You’re gonna take him and make sure they know we just want to negotiate. Understood?”

  He nodded and stood up to walk past me into the hallway but I stopped him. I told him up close and personally, “If you fuck this up, though, we’re gonna find you. You don’t want that.”

  I was bluffing hard as shit. Almost as much as Cutty was when he shot up the hallway. But it did the trick.

  The doc called out to the people in the hall, “I’m comin’ out. Don’t shoot! I need Eckersly and Nichols up here stat! Tell ‘em to bring gurneys and a defibrillator. And have Chavez cut the damn water!” He turned back to me and said, “We’ll do the best we can. Then I’ll make sure you get to talk to whoever you want. But for now, just cool your jets. We can sort this out. Nobody… nobody needs to die here. We’ve seen enough of that already. We’re not the enemy.”

  I nodded at him.

  The gurneys were brought to us in less than a minute, and as Alyse was wheeled away along with the other soldier, Hook slumped back against the wall and tried his best not to cry. Lilly walked over and hugged him, telling him, “Alyse will be okay. She’s friends with God, just like Cutty. He’ll make sure she’s fine.”

  Hook offered her a weak smile from behind misty eyes and hugged her back. He asked her, “Nice move with that knife, kid. Where you get that thing anyway?”

  She told him, “The guy on the floor. JC told me to always check their boots. He used to say, ‘It’s not the guns that’ll get ya, Lil. It’s the boot knife you don’t know about that will.’ I just did like he told me.”

  Hook gave her a tightlipped nod and said, “That boy was all right.”

  I took a look at Cutty, who sat on the bed gripping his new rifle uncomfortably. He told me, “I hope you know what you doin’, ma nigga.”

  I don’t. I don’t have a fuckin’ clue, but at least we bought some more time to figure it out. For now, we wait.

  Entry 125

  It’s been a long twenty-four hours. Much of it was spent leaned up against the doorjamb, watching the hallway for an advance on our position. Surprisingly, it never came. Armed men held their positions, simply blocking off any exits.

  The water was cut off, but thankfully Hook plugged and filled the sink using the broken desk lamp before it happened. So, we had something to keep us hydrated. Doesn’t sound like much, but after being on the road as long as we have, we learned a long time ago about rationing. As in any other barricade scenario, I expected the electricity to be cut, but they didn’t even bother.

  I perked up immediately when Murphy’s familiar face broke through the guard detail with a few more brainy types in tow. It was a huge relief to not only see him, but to see him in good health and moving with confidence towards our room.

  He stopped a few steps from the door and told his three companions to stay back before approaching me and harshly whispering, “What in the actual fuck are you doin’, Sally? You’re lucky every single one of you isn’t dead, Goddammit. These men could make a tactical entry on this room, put all of you down, and walk this ‘prisoner’ of yours outta here so fast you wouldn’t have time to scratch your ass!”

  I could tell he was pissed—like, megapissed. What were we supposed to do, though? No one was talking about where the others were. They roughed up Lilly, quarantined Kylee, and up until now, Murphy was a ghost.

  He looked over his shoulder to make sure his company couldn’t hear him before continuing with, “I’ve convinced them that you’re all a little rattled from the road and you guys just lost your shit for a minute. They’ve sent me up to negotiate.”

  I asked him exactly what he was here to negotiate, and he told me, “Mush mouth over there needs to be seen by the medics. Once his pain really sets in, he’s gonna be moanin’ and hollerin’ and makin’ life more miserable for you than it already has been. The military types might look like they run shit here, but it’s really the docs that are in charge. I’ve been with them since decontamination. They’re all right. I wouldn’t shit you on this, Sally.”

  Hook recognized Murphy’s voice from inside the room and rushed to my side, asking him, “Alyse? Is she okay?”

  Murphy nodded and told him, “She’s stable. I heard she was in the bathtub or something?”

  Hook nodded.

  “She’s lucky she was, too. The bullet slowed down enough that it didn’t d
o any terminal damage. As a matter of fact, it took them longer to pluck all the porcelain out of her chest than to retrieve the bullet fragments,” Murphy added.

  Hook let out a heavy, grateful sigh of relief and silently celebrated with a fist pump—er… hook pump. He asked Murphy if he had seen her yet, to which Murphy nodded in the affirmative.

  “Now,” Murphy said firmly, “let these men take mush mouth outta here. The guy who let us in here in the first place has volunteered to stay and act as your hostage for the time being. He has some things he wants to discuss with you, and you’re gonna wanna hear it—all of it. His name is Clint, and he’s all right by me. You know I wouldn’t bullshit you, but listen up, especially you, Sally… I didn’t want to come into this facility at all without thinking it through, but you made the call. Now we’re here, and we’re in deep shit unless we play it carefully from here on out. The docs saved Alyse as a token of trust. In exchange, I’ve taught them some of the things we learned on the outside about the dumbshits. No more bullshit! Let me run the show in here for awhile. Okay?”

  Hook and I nodded our assent. Hook craned his neck to peek inside the room and asked Cutty and Lilly, “You got that in there?”

  Cutty told him, “Yeah, Murph, we got you. What about Kylee? You seen her?”

  Much to our relief, Murphy told us, “Yeah, Kylee’s fine, but she’s in for the shock of her life once the man gets up here. I’ll let Clint explain all that.”

  Murphy gave a wave, and two men entered to aide mush mouth up and out. They were followed by the guy we recognized from the gate. He was a man of small stature with a ridiculous comb-over and wire-framed glasses. I’d put him in his late forties.

  He took a seat on the bed and said, “How’d you like to get outta this place and into a room you can all share?”

  Lilly excitedly jumped to her feet and exclaimed, “Yes!”

  Clint jumped as soon as she made a move and told Cutty, “Do me a favor, hmm? Keep her at a distance?”

  Cutty shrugged and nodded, putting himself between Lilly and Clint. That was when Murphy leaned in and whispered in my ear, “Looks like our little Lilly has a reputation around here already. They’re calling her ‘Killy.’ Rumor has it she took out that guard and stabbed the shit out of him on her own. Christ, Dext, is that true?”

  I winked at him and whispered back, “Sort of…”

  He grinned devilishly and told me, “Damn. Nice. I’d use that to your advantage if I were you.”

  Clint gathered his thoughts as Murphy shook my hand and announced that the men in the hallway were going to remain in place, but were under strict orders to hold their positions until further notice. He added that they would comply without protest and that we could relax for the moment.

  Clint finally spoke and began with, “Looks like you folks have had quite a journey. I had a look at your diary… ‘Dext’, is it?”

  I remember plopping down on the floor, thankful that I could finally let my guard down a little, and nodding at him to continue.

  “Well, Dext, Cutty, Alex, Kil—Lilly… Murphy and I have been catching up, and after having read your record of events, I feel the need to explain some things.”

  Cutty scoffed sarcastically and quipped, “Oh, for real? You gon’ explain dis shit, huh?”

  Clint was visibly nervous and swallowed hard before continuing. “Um. Yes.”

  He asked to see my journal once again, and I passed it over to him. He thumbed through some pages anxiously before stopping at whatever it was he was looking for, saying, “Aha! Here it is. This girl you’re with, Kylee Peel—the soldier. She was pregnant.”

  Cutty nodded, but Hook looked stunned. Hook asked me, “She was? When? What happened?”

  I waved him off as if to say, ‘We’ll discuss it later.’

  Clint continued, “And she’s been bitten—not once but twice, in fact. She never turned, though. We need to find out why that is, and she’s consented to some tests.”

  Cutty stepped up, casting an enormous shadow over Clint’s entire form, and he bellowed, “Da fuck you mean ‘tests’?”

  Clint cowered immediately and put his hands up in surrender as he stammered, “Now… now… it’s nothing invasive—just… some blood work. I assure you, she’s fine. But—”

  Cutty’s fist balled up, and he grabbed Clint by the lapel, pulling forward roughly. “But nuthin’. Start talkin’ faster, li’l man.”

  I put my hand on Cutty to back him off and told Clint, “Look, cut the shit and spit it out, unless you’d rather talk to Lilly…”

  I shot a glance over at Lilly, and her head snapped up as if she hadn’t been paying a lick of attention to any of us. Clint’s face went chalk white, and he began spilling it. He told U*^&^**** ///////

  ATTENTION:

  TRANSMISSION OF THE BAXTER FILES IS HEREBY TERMINATED INDEFINITELY BY ORDER OF SSG CHALMERS.

  ANY AND ALL COMMS TO FORCES UNDER COMMAND OF COL. LANG ARE HEREBY TERMINATED INDEFINITELY BY ORDER OF SSG CHALMERS.

  SPARK TERMINALS AND CONNECTION CAPABILITIES ARE HEREBY TERMINATED INDEFINITELY BY ORDER OF SSG CHALMERS.

  DO NOT REPLY.

  Letter to Lt. Col. Thigpen

  Emergency Wire Connection Established

  Signal Source: Albuquerque, NM

  Signal Destination: Classified

  Date: Classified

  Re: Classified

  Active Settings:

  - Radial Jamming Sequences

  - Encryption (Level 4)

  - Hide Channel

  - IP Spoof

  - False Packets (Outgoing)

  LtCol Thigpen,

  My name is SSG Daniel M. Chalmers of the United States Army. You do not know who I am, and I have only heard about you. We have never met nor had any interpersonal interactions, which are the exact reasons why you are receiving this letter and the attached documents. I have much to tell you, and it may seem overwhelming at first, but I implore you to take this at face value. Review the documents thoroughly, and act on them. It has been said that you are a man of honor. I want to believe that.

  Most of my military career has been spent under the command of Col. Lang, a man that you have come to know in the past months in the wake of our current situation. It is my understanding that you two have had contact since High Command fell off the map and that you’ve been working in tandem on some operations regarding search, rescue, security, and so on. I will begin with a warning. This man is not what he seems!

  About two weeks ago I was working with a man named Dr. Robert A. Morofsky. You probably know of him. During that operation, he received word from a colleague in New Mexico named Dr. Clinton Diggs, who strongly urged him to make his way to that facility due to the discovery of what could possibly be the missing link to the true vaccine that we have been working on. The link came to us in the form of a troop named Kylee Peel. To back up his claim, Mr. Diggs attached copies of a diary kept by one of the men in Kylee Peel’s party. She had been bitten and survived—more than once, even!

  I read the diary documents in their entirety, and what I found within sickened me to a point that I questioned everything I had ever done under Col. Lang’s command. After much debate and discussion, Dr. Morofsky and I came to an agreement. The account of events that follows incriminates me heavily, but I am no longer concerned with what becomes of me. There are much larger things at stake here.

  Kylee Peel is most certainly not dead. The author of the diary, Dext Baxter, is also alive as I write this. I concocted the entire story about finding the diary on a dead man, even going so far as to tell Col. Lang about the death of Kylee Peel. It was entirely fabricated. I did this to protect them from him. When he finds out they are alive, he will surely come for them.

  I began passing the diary documents along to Col. Lang for a matter of days and maintained the ruse so the world could see what caused this horrific event. I want people to know the machinations behind all of this and, as you will see when you review the attached document
s, Col. Lang serves it all to us on a platter. I kept everything—all of the supposed secure transmissions, transcriptions of our Spark Terminal conversations; everything is there in plain sight for you to read.

  For reasons that will become clear as we move forward, Dr. Morofsky requested and was granted permission to travel to the Albuquerque facility to continue his studies, but he did so without mentioning the possible vaccine link to anyone save for myself. In a matter of days I, too, was in New Mexico and finally had the opportunity to meet Mr. Baxter, Kylee Peel, and the others. They are a tough bunch, hardened through the horrors of life on the road in our current landscape, but you will learn as you read that they are all kind-hearted people. They are the way they are because of the world Col. Lang has made for us all to wallow in. I can’t believe I bought into his shit for so many years. I gave my entire career to him, and he betrayed us all.

  He didn’t even balk when I threatened to tell. There’s a part in there where he even promises me a promotion to keep quiet. He would do anything to keep me loyal, as you will see. I baited him over and over again, and his responses just get uglier and uglier. When I lied to him about his own daughter’s death, he seemed disappointed that he couldn’t run tests on her more than anything else!

  I had to draw a line somewhere, and it appears I have reached that point. Believe me, I struggled quite a bit when he threatened my family with whether or not I should even go through with this letter. I still can’t believe I’m going through with it.

  Listen, we’re going to hold here for five days and not a second more. Col. Lang will be expecting some sort of communication from us ASAP, and I fear I can’t hold him off much longer than that.

  Please respond. We need you to take command of all known forces immediately and ensure that the only people taking orders from Col. Lang are his innermost circle. We need you to ensure the safety of Kylee Peel and Dr. Morofsky, because there is a chance they can stop this thing.

  I also need you to back me up when I make it to Fort Bragg. I’m going to get my family before he can make it to them.

  Mr. Baxter has been invaluable in documenting the current state of things, and I will encourage him to continue to do so. All new communications from Mr. Baxter’s diary will be transcribed and rerouted to you. It is my hopes that by doing so we can give you a clear picture of our situation, upon which you can make intelligent, informed decisions.