Dead Team Alpha: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (12 page)

The boy tilts his head this way and that then nods. “Okay.”

Hawks reaches out for the boy, but he doesn’t see the hand and instead begins to make his way down the tree on his own. She’s beyond surprised at his agility, especially considering his condition.

She keeps out of his way, tracking his progress, until he’s down on the ground, his body in a defensive crouch up against the tree.

“How many?” he asks. His head sweeps back and forth. “Six? No…eight?”

“Good counting,” Hawks says as she jumps the last couple of feet, landing by his side. “There’s ten of us all together. One drew the Zs away and will meet us back at the Bell Tower.”

“Hello, son,” TL Lafferty says. “I’m the Team Leader here. What’s your name?”

“Marshall Rosado, Thirtieth Code Monkey,” the boy says as he stands up, his hand resting back against the tree, his muscles tensed to flee. “I don’t know what a Team Leader is, but you must be in charge.”

“How old are you?” TL Lafferty asks, her Team silent around her, knowing she has to take lead with any new survies. “You look maybe eight? Nine?”

“I’m thirteen,” Marshall says. “Just small for my age. That’s what my parents…”

They wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t.

“May I?” Bobby asks, as much to TL Lafferty as to Marshall as he approaches slowly and kneels in front of the boy. He starts to reach for the boy’s face then finds himself down on the ground, the boy’s legs wrapped around his neck, squeezing, squeezing.

“Jesus fuck!” Diaz says as he and Tiny D lunge at the kid
.

Tiny D gets her hands worked between the boy’s legs and Bobby’s throat, while Diaz grabs him under the arms and pulls him back. Diaz spins the kid around and slams his face into the dirt while yanking his arms up behind his back. Junior tosses him some cord and Diaz ties the kid’s wrist together then pulls him to his feet.

“I don’t give two fucks if you’ve had your eyes plucked out,” Diaz snarls into Marshall’s ear. “But you go after my boy again and I
will
gut you.”

“Sorry,” Marshall says. “I…I’m sorry.”

“Mate Diaz?” TL Lafferty asks. “I think the boy is sincere.” She looks around at the park and frowns. “And we are drawing attention. You get to carry him to the Bell Tower. DTA, let’s move.”

The Team heads
off towards what was once Colorado Heights University. They book it through the park and across South Irving Street, up the barren slope behind the former school, and take cover at the side of the May Bonfils-Stanton Library. Junior sighs as they pass the boarded up windows of the library.

“We’ll get settled first,” TL Lafferty says, smirking at Junior. “Then you and Alastair get first patrol. Ten minutes in the library, tops.
Tops.
”

“Thanks
, TL,” Junior grins.

They duck around the south side of the building and weave between the huge oaks and firs to the former administrative building and the Bell Tower.
The sun is just starting to dip below the mountains behind them as TL Lafferty gives three sharp knocks on a thick metal door tucked into an alcove of the red brick building.

They wait two seconds then she gives three more sharp knocks. There’s two sharp knocks in response. TL Lafferty knocks once more then smacks it hard with the f
lat of her hand. The sounds of bars being removed, as well as chains being undone, echoes through the door. A weathered face peers out at them as the door is slowly pushed open.

“Carlyle,” TL Lafferty nods. “Good to see you.”

“You made good time,” Carlyle says then sees Marshall being held by Diaz. “Even with a distraction it seems. Get your butts in here before we lose the sun.”

The Team
filters through the door, one by one, nodding to the senior Runner. He nods back, and then gives the area a quick scan before he shuts the door behind them.

“Head on up,” Carlyle says. “I’ll be with you in a minute. Make yourselves at home.”

In his mid-forties, Carlyle Smithson is as fit as a man can be. Thin build, deeply lined, tanned skin; his arms are ropes of muscle. He takes his time replacing the bars and chains into their various slots and bolts then turns to a set of stairs. He barely breaks a sweat and isn’t even close to out of breath as he takes the steps two at a time all the way to the top, quickly catching up to DTA.

“Hey!” Carlyle snaps as he sees Tiny D lifting a spoon from a simmering pot off to the corner of the wide room.

“You said make ourselves at home,” Tiny D grins. “What’s in here? I smell sage, but what’s the meat?”

“Pocket gopher,” Carlyle says. “Got a den of them
down under the commons.”

“Gopher?” Junior asks. “Ah, give me some of that!”

“Still cooking,” Carlyle says. “Give it an hour or two more. Softens the meat and tempers the gamey flavor.”

“I’m hungry,” Marshall says, still gripped by Diaz.

“You’ll get some food soon, kid,” Diaz says.

“Can I talk to you, TL?” Val asks, nodding towards the stairwell.

“Can it wait, Baptiste?” TL Lafferty asks. “I’d like to have a word with Carlyle first, get his report on the area so we know exactly what we’re walking into tomorrow morning. Didn’t like that herd that surprised us.”

“Herd?” Carlyle asks after stirring the stew. “
They’re getting more and more frequent, I tell ya. Your new Runner nearly didn’t make it here.”

“Yeah, where’s this new Runner?” Diaz asks as he looks out a front window, his eyes scanning the commons below.

“Up top,” Carlyle says. “Double checking the pyre so it’s ready for night duty.”

TL Lafferty gives Carlyle an inquisitive look. The man shrugs.

“He seems to think I can’t maintain a pyre,” Carlyle laughs. “The guy’s a pissy little bitch, but can run like the wind, even when surprised by these pop up herds.”

“That’s what’s troubling me,” TL Lafferty says. “Not like you Runners to let us get ambushed like that.
No warning marks at any of the intersections or on any of the buildings.”

“Like I said, they’re just popping up,” Carlyle explains. “They are coming and going. It’s impossible to track them. Just when I think one has formed, it splits up and turns back into random groups.”

“Herds happen,” Marshall says. The Team all looks his way and he shrugs, as if he knows he’s the center of attention.

Val grips TL Lafferty’s elbow. “Please, TL. Just give me five.”

TL Lafferty looks at the rest of the Team as they toss their packs onto the ground and begin the process of field stripping and cleaning their weapons. “Fine. Five minutes.”

They step out of the room and onto the landing overlooking several flights of stairs.

TL Lafferty looks down into the darkness below and rolls her neck. The cracking echoes up and down the stairwell. She looks back at Val and raises her eyebrows. Val reaches over and closes the door to the room.

“Don’t cut
that kid loose,” Val says. “He’s full of shit.”

TL Lafferty’s eyebrow raise changes from irritation to legitimate surprise.

“Not what I was expecting you to say,” she replies. “Go on.”

“You know I had a brother, right?” Val asks.

“My condolences,” TL Lafferty nods. “His death was rough on everyone, especially your… Well, you know. Every person counts.”

“We always remember,” Val responds. “Thank you. But this isn’t about how my brother died. This is about how he lived. He was born blind, probably due to radiation exposure my mother suffered during the shutdown missions of the nuclear reactors south of here.”

“Yes, yes, there were many unfortunate side effects of those missions,” TL Lafferty says
, looking slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. “But all for the greater good.”

“Cut the propaganda, TL,” Val snaps. “You need to listen to me.” TL Lafferty starts to get angry and respond, but Val cuts her off. “The kid didn’t just have his eyes plucked out.
He’s been blind a while.”

“
You did see the scabs, right? Those are only days old,” TL Lafferty says. “I am seriously reconsidering your fit in this Team, Baptiste.”

“
They look fresh, yes,” Val explains. “But he didn’t lose his eyes recently. He moves and acts like someone that has been blind a long time. Maybe since birth. I don’t know, but I’ll swear those wounds aren’t as new as they look.”

TL Lafferty studies Val’s face
for a full minute. “He’s just a boy,” TL Lafferty says. “So, he’s got something to hide. Most survies do. They are scared and they don’t know who we are or what we’ll do to them. It can take months, sometimes years, for new refugees to relax into Stronghold life finally. You expect a thirteen year old boy to be any different?”

“On the graves of my family, I swear that kid is not telling us who he really is or why he’s really here,” Val snaps.

“Disrespecting the dead?” TL Lafferty growls. “That is behavior unbecoming a Mate, Baptiste. I should remove you from duty this second and send you packing.”

“I’m not disrespecting anyone,” Val says. “Let me tell you a story, okay? About my brother. If at the
end, you still don’t believe me then I’ll shut the fuck up and never say another word. Deal?”

Val spits in her palm and holds out her hand.

“A spit shake?” TL Lafferty asks, amused. “You trying to sell me a story or a sick goat?”

“I’m trying to get you to listen,” Val replies.

TL Lafferty looks at Val’s hand then spits in her own and shakes. They wipe their palms on their chests and nod to each other.

“Talk,” TL Lafferty orders. “And no tangents. Get to the fucking point so I can go in there, give orders, and take a load off.”

“My brother was four years older than me,” Val says. “I loved him so much, and looked up to him, but because he was blind our parents always doted on him. I felt like I wasn’t even there sometimes.” Val rubs her face and sighs. “One day, when my dad was in the back tending to the garden, and Mom was out on patrol, John and I started to argue. I was maybe five so he’d have been nine. It was over something stupid, I honestly don’t remember, but I got so mad that I picked up a mug and threw it at him.”

Val smiles at the memory.

“As soon as the mug left my hand I wished I could take it back,” Val says. “I was so sorry. But it didn’t matter. The mug didn’t hit him.”

“You were five,” TL Lafferty laughs. “I doubt you could have hit the side of your house.”

Val frowns. “I’m a Baptiste, sir. I could hit a fly at ten yards when I was three.”

TL Lafferty begins to reply, but just nods instead, indicating for Val to continue.

“I didn’t miss,” Val says. “It didn’t hit him because my blind brother
caught
the fucking thing. To say we were both surprised would be an understatement.”

“What did you parents say?” TL Lafferty asks. “No, wait, let me guess, you didn’t tell them?”

“No way,” Val says. “First, we would have gotten in trouble for fighting. Second, it became our secret, our game. I’d throw things at him and he’d either catch them or dodge them or bat them away. No matter what, he never got hit. Not once.” Val points at the closed door. “That kid acts and moves like my brother. He’s been blind for a long time.”

TL Lafferty leans back against the wall, suddenly looking her age. “Then explain why the wounds look fresh. Because those scabs and cut marks around his eyes didn’t happen when he was born.”

“I don’t know,” Val replies. “I just know he’s full of shit.”

“Noted,” TL Lafferty nods. “But he’s still a kid and we’re not. Let me feel this out. And don’t mention this to any of the other Mates, understood? We have a mission to complete. We’ll send the kid back to the Stronghold with a Runner.
Command can deal with him. That sit right with you, Baptiste?”

“Yes, sir,” Val replies. “I could be totally wrong on this, but I don’t think I am.”

“Don’t second guess yourself, Mate,” TL Lafferty says. “You could be wrong, but those on DTA rarely are. We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

“Thank you, sir,” Val nods as TL Lafferty opens the door.

“Now strip your weapon and get some sleep,” TL Lafferty orders. “You’re on second watch.”

They walk back into the room and everyone gives them a cursory glance
, except for Marshall. He turns his head towards Val and smiles. She shivers at the way he “looks” at her.

***

Second shift comes quickly, and Val feels like she barely closed her eyes when there’s a boot nudging her leg. She’s up with her M-4 in hand before she has both eyes open.

“Keep an eye on the west,” Alastair says. “Junior
thinks he heard something. I didn’t, but be aware.”

“Eyes on the west,” Val nods. “Who’s my partner?”

Alastair gestures over his shoulder at a waiting Bobby.

“You get Mr. Shy,” Alastair says
, giving the others a knowing look. “Don’t break him.”