Dead Team Alpha: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (22 page)

“You little fuck,” Anna Lee snarls as she closes on Benji, her fists clenched.

“Whoa,” Benji says, holding up his palm. “Movement.”

“Nice fucking try, fucker,” Anna Lee says, reaching for him.

He gives her a shove back, surprisingly able to move the woman that is nearly twice his weight, and points out the window. “I’m not kidding, bitch,” he says. “Third tree from the front. See that? We have company.”

***

Diaz and Alastair, shoulder to shoulder, move away from the shadows of the trees and hurry along the edge of the commons, turning this way and that, sweeping their M-4s, trying to cover all angles. They make it a few yards before a barely audible whistle rings out above. Glancing up, Diaz sees Cole at the top of the Bell Tower. He gives the man a nod and continues with Alastair around the building to the back door.

The locks, bolts, and chains are already undone as they get to the door and it swings open. Val steps out, carbine up, and covers the men as they duck inside quickly. She backs up into the building and the door is once again secured.

“Holy fucking shit,” Anna Lee says from the stairs. “Didn’t actually fucking expect to see anyone make it here.” She looks at Val. “My bad, girl. You were fucking right.”

“But two hours are up,” Cole says
as he comes down past her and shakes the two men’s hands. “We need to head north.”

“No way,” Diaz says. “Duster, Tiny D and TL Lafferty are still out there.”

“Not TL,” Val responds. “She didn’t make it from the platforms.”

“Took out a fuck ton of Zs,” Anna Lee says. “Went out with honor.”

“Well, Duster and Tiny D did make it from the platforms,” Alastair says. “I’m sure I saw them busting their asses back into Denver.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Cole says. “Time’s up.”

“Time’s up for what?” Diaz asks. “TL said this is the rendezvous point. We wait here until TD and Duster show up.”

“And if they don’t?” Cole asks. “Do we just keep waiting? There are crazies heading to the Stronghold with a mega-herd of Zs. That’s our priority.”

“Code Monkeys,” Alastair says. “That’s what they are called. Like the kid said. Code Monkeys.”

“But not all of them,” Diaz says, rolling his eyes. “
Apparently, you have to prove how crazy you are before you get a stupid name like Code Monkey.”

“How the fuck do you know this?” Cole asks.

“I’ll tell you,” Alastair says. “But we wait a little longer for TD and Duster to get here, cool?”

“We wait as long as we talk,” Cole says, gesturing to the stairs. “Upstairs. You can take a load off
before we head out.”

“You’re such a giving soul, TL Wright,” Diaz says, slapping him on the back as they turn and head up. “A real saint.”

“Fuck off, Diaz,” Cole replies.

***

She doesn’t even stop when she hits the commons. Tiny D knows she should slow down and case the area, but the group of Zs on her tired ass are reason enough to take the risk.

Having ditched the first group that had followed her and Duster, she stumbled across a whole new group just a block away from the university. She came around a corner and they were just standing there in an old apartment complex parking lot. None of them were moving, just staring up at the sky, or down at their feet. She skidded to a halt and was about to backtrack and circle
around, when fatigue got the best of her and her foot slipped. She didn’t fall, but she had to put a hand out against a car and brace herself.

A brutal Rube Goldberg string of events began and she watched in horror as things started to topple around her as the car she leaned against shifted slightly, knocking over a folding chair that had been set against its bumper.
That chair knocked something else which knocked something else, and so on and so on.

A mad dash past the group and Tiny D finds herself with a posse of Zs on her ass and only the drive of her will to push her on. She can actually feel her energy draining out of her as if a plug had been pulled. Stopping to assess the security of the commons? Not happening.

Digging deep, she keeps running, her eyes focused ahead on the corner of the Bell Tower building. One hundred yards, ninety yards, eighty yards, seventy-five, seventy, sixty-five, sixty, fifty-eight, fifty five, fifty-two.

Her knees buckle and she stumbles forward, one hand out to break her fall and the other holding her M-4. She tries to get back up, but her legs won’t obey. The long night of running and hiding, the fights with the crazies and the Zs, having to help carry Duster for his last few feet of life
, all comes crashing down on her.

She rolls onto her back and struggles to sit up
, but even that effort is almost too much. She does get into a sitting position and she takes a quick inventory of her ammunition and of the Zs that have reached the end of the commons. The math doesn’t work out. Too many Zs and too few cartridges. Pulling her 9mm from her hip, she sets that close at hand. If she’s careful with every shot, she may only have to fight two or three hand to rotten hand.

“Gonna take all the fun for yourself?” Val asks from right behind her.

She whips the carbine around, but it’s batted away.

“No friendly fire, TD,” Cole smiles at her. “Kinda
the first rule of a good Team Mate.”

“Fuckhead,” she says. “Get me out of here.”

“Gladly,” Cole says as he and Val each grab an arm and haul her up.

They get her moving, although it’s more like a slow drag, and work their way around to the back door.

“You are one lucky Mate,” Cole says. “Ten more minutes and we would have been gone.”

“Duster?” Val asks.

Tiny D shakes her head.

“Shit. That sucks,” Val sighs. “Let’s get you upstairs so you can rest.” Cole starts to protest, but she gives him a look he knows well and he shuts up. “When you’re
ready, we’re going north. Time to get home.”

Chapter Eight- …Of No Return

DTB Two hits the edge of Loretto Heights Park when Horton holds up her fist. They stop in their tracks and crouch low, eyes on the university ahead. Stanford creeps up next to her.

“What you got?” he whispers

“Two hostiles,” she responds.

He scans the area, but doesn’t see any movement.

“Up there,” she says and Stanford quickly realizes why she has the reputation of being the best point person in the Teams.

Not on the ground, but crawling across the roof just below the Bell Tower are two people
. Having gotten a good look at plenty of their friends, Stanford recognizes them as blind crazies in a second.

“I’ll wager that means there are Mates inside,” Stanford says. “Not going to have a shot for long.”

He takes a knee, rests his left elbow on his thigh, and sights down the barrel of his M-4.

“Are you fucking kidding?” Horton asks. “You can’t make that shot from here. That’s
600 hundred yards at least, easy.”

“Maybe with a sniper rifle, TL,” Carlito says at his side. “Not with an M-4.”

“And they’re moving,” Lang adds.

“I appreciate the moral support, folks,” Stanford says. “But put a little trust in your TL, will ya? I know what I’m doing.”

Big breath in, slow breath out, squeeze and fire.

The suppressed cough
is lost quickly in the wind, but the sound that comes next isn’t.

CLANG!

“And you doubted me,” Stanford smiles as he stands up and starts running towards the campus.

The two figures on the roof cry out in surprise as the long silent bell in the Bell Tower reverberates above them. One even takes its hands and clamps them to the side of its head, causing it to slip halfway down the roof before reaching out and grabbing onto the cracked and loose tile. The other figure just hugs the roof, shaking and quivering.

“How do you think that sounded to a blind guy?” Stanford laughs as Shep and Carlotta flank him. “I’m guessing not so fucking great.”

***

“Son of a fuck!” Cole shouts, his M-4 aimed at the ceiling as the bell above continues to ring. “Diaz! Al! Up there now!”

Recognizing that Cole is a TL, even if h
e isn’t theirs directly, the two Mates rush to the ladder, climbing up quickly and shoving open the trap door. Diaz, first up, hauls himself into the Tower proper and rolls to the side, his M-4 covering the area as Alastair follows him. They both grimace at the noise the bell still makes, but don’t let it distract them from making sure the place is secure.

“Clear!” Diaz shouts.

“Clear!” Alastair agrees.

They circle around the bell, trying to figure out what set it off since there is no clapper inside or rope attached any longer. Diaz stands studying the bell, his back to the rear ledge, unaware of the hands that reach up and take purchase.

“Are you shitting me?” Alastair whispers.

Diaz looks over at
him, seeing his mouth move more than hearing the words. He turns his head in the direction of Alastair’s gaze and nods with surprised understanding.

When the figure pulls itself up over the edge, the two Mates are waiting for him.

“Hello,” Diaz says and the man freezes in place. “You going to be a problem?”

The man rushes towards
Diaz, and Alastair puts two rounds in his forehead, splattering the ledge behind with blood and brains. The next set of hands that grab onto that ledge gain a grip for only a second and then slip away. Diaz and Alastair rush forward, watching the screaming man slide down the old tile roof, hit the broken rain gutter, and then fly off the edge, flipping through the air until slamming hard on the ground below.

“Hey!” Stanford waves from below, just
feet from the pulverized body. “Missed me!”

“If I was trying to hit you with a falling
body, I would!” Diaz yells, giving DTB Two a big smile. “Good to see you, Ford!”

“First time anyone’s said that to me!” Stanford yells back. “You guys gonna open the back door or do we have to climb up like those blind monkeys?”

“Code Monkeys,” Alastair says, looking down and nodding to the team.

“Well, sounds like you have gathered intel,” Stanford says. “Open the fucking door and let’s share, shall we?”

***

The back door swings wide and Stanford is surprised by who is standing there.

“Hey, sexy,” Stanford says, giving Benji a wink.

“Whatever,” Benji says. “Get your cute ass in here before you bring all the crazies down on us.”

DTB Two hurries inside, most walking in backwards, carbines up, double-checking the area. They get upstairs, drop their gear, and greet all present. After a lot of back slapping and hand shaking the Mates all gather around. Once they settle in, Stanford gives them the bad news about RC Eight, Hawks, Clank, and Junior. As well as the north mega-herd and the blind crazies pushing it forward.

“How do you want to run this?” Stanford asks Cole. “You’re the senior TL, but I have a Team still intact.”

“I’ll take DTA,” Cole says. “Roll my people up into it. You keep your Team.”

“Fair enough,” Stanford says. “Everyone cool with that?”

The DTA Mates stand with their arms crossed, looking at Cole and Anna Lee.

“Is that a no?” Stanford asks.

“You don’t just roll up into DTA,” Diaz says. “It’s earned, not won by default.”

“You have a better solution?” Cole asks. “Because chain of command needs to be solidified before we move out. No TL and it’s just chaos in the wasteland.”

“What about Val?” Alastair asks. “She’s fresh from DTB, but now part of DTA. And let’s face it, folks, her mother was a legendary TL, before, you know. Val can be the bridge.”

“Me?” Val asks. “Are you sure? I’m two days DTA. And I’ve never been a TL. I’m not qualified.”

“But you’re DTA,” Tiny D shrugs. “Better than DTB running things. No offense, Ford, Cole.”

“Oh, I’m offended,” Stanford says. “But I’ll get over it.”

“This isn’t how ranking works,” Cole says, visibly upset by the suggestion. “Two TLs are here, two TLs should lead.”

“Not to be a
n ass,” Diaz says. “But you led your Team to death. Track record not so hot, bro.”

Cole moves towards Diaz, but Anna Lee gets between the men.

“Fucking knock this cock fighting fuckshit off,” Anna Lee says.

“God, you’re sexy when you talk, cuz,” Stanford says. “If we weren’t blood
relatives, I’d take you now. Right here on the floor. Just rip that uniform off and show you how a woman should feel.”

Over by the windows, staying out of the fight, Benji laughs, sees the look on Anna Lee’s face and then laughs harder.

“Can we trade our TL?” Lang asks, smirking at Stanford.

“I’ll do it,” Val says. “Not take Ford’s place, but take over for DTA.”

“Cool,” Diaz says. “We got your back, rookie.”

“This is bullshit,” Cole says. “Commander Lee will flip her fucking lid when she finds out. She will go fucking nuclear.”

“That’s
her
problem,” Tiny D says. “I’m in.”

“All good with me,” Alastair says. “Welcome to the command, TL.”

Val nods then looks towards the window. “So what’s the plan?”

“That’s you
r job,
TL
,” Cole sneers. “You tell us.”

She looks at Stanford then at the rest of the Mates. “Well, way I see it, is we have to get up the mountain as fast as possible. There’s no way we can get in front of the herd or the Code Monkeys.”

“Only some are Code Monkeys,” Alastair says.

“Right, true,” Val continues. “But
let’s just call them that from now on. Blind crazies isn’t working for me.”

“Neither is that uniform,” Benji says. “Tighten the waist a little and bring in the legs, show off those calves.”

“Honey, please be quiet,” Stanford says. “The men are talking.”

“Bitch,” Benji says.

“Smooches,” Stanford replies. The smart-ass look on his face drops and he is all serious. “Carlyle will stay ahead of the herd and warn the Stronghold.”

“How the fuck can you know that?” Cole asks. “He could already be Z feed.”

“You ever know Carlyle not to finish a run?” Stanford says. “He’ll make it. So we just have to be ready to provide backup when shit and fan kiss.”

Cole looks around at the group. “Okay, how do we provide this backup? There’
re only 13 of us.”

“Unl
ucky us,” Carlito says, crossing himself.

“They have a huge lead,” Cole continues. “It’s a four hour march to the Turnpike. From there, literally, it’s all uphill. The Stronghold will be completely under siege, if not breached, by the time we catch up. That doesn’t even consider if any of these Monkeys are waiting in ambush.”

“Maybe we don’t have to march the whole way,” Val says, looking at Stanford. “Remember when we were twelve and my dad took us down the mountain?”

“Yeah,” Stanford says
, “scared the living fuck out of me. We get to the bottom and there’s a herd waiting, so instead of jumping out of the trolley to get in the line heading back up the mountain your dad… No way. Really?”

“Suck my dick,” Cole says. “I remember that day. It took months to repair
that part of the trolley system. He broke the whole switching station!”

“But it’ll get us up the mountain,” Val says. “Fast. Too fast to be ambushed by blind Monkeys. We keep going until we’re at the top
, then kill every fucking Z in our way.”

“Gonna fill us in?” Shep asks. “I wasn’t here when you two were kids, remember? My family came off the Plains later.”

“Anyone have a pencil?” Stanford asks. “I’ll draw this out and show you how it works.”

“I’ve got this,” Alastair says, pulling the
sketchpad out of his pack and digging under for the charcoal. He hands the charcoal to Stanford, his other hand holding the sketch of Tamara’s markings.

“What’s that?” Val asks.

Alastair looks down at the sketchbook in his hand. “Oh, I drew the markings that were on that woman’s back we ran into. I was hoping someone at the Stronghold could figure them out. Looks like a form of Morse code, but it’s not. No dashes, just all dots.”

“May I?” Val asks, holding out her hand.

“Sure,” Alastair says.

“Coloring time can wait,” Stanford says. “Can we focus on the plan?”

“Hold on,” Val says, looking over the sketch. “Groupings of six?”

“Yeah,” Alastair nods. “So? That mean anything to you?”

“These circles here,” Val says. “Were they dips in her skin?”

“No, more like burns,” Alastair replies. “The solid dots represent the raised scars.”

“Just like on the kid and that woman’s back,” Diaz says.

“God, I’m an idiot,” Val says, smacking her forehead. “How did I not see it before?”

“Okay, fine, let’s get sidetracked,” Stanford says, crossing his arms. “Please, TL Baptiste, tell us what you have discovered.”

“It’s Braille, dipshit,” Val says. “And I can read it. Feeling sidetracked now, cocksu
cker?”

“Not a very good one, really,” Benji says.

“Stay out of this!” Stanford snaps.

“I think we picked the right TL,” Diaz grins. “Girl can read Braille and shit.” He nods a few times then looks at everyone else. “What the fuck is Braille?”

“It’s a form of writing for the blind,” Val says. “And my brother was blind. He would read to me and I just learned it by following along.”

Val studies the sketch for a few minutes.

“Don’t you have to feel Braille?” Tommy Bombs asks. “Like with your fingers?”

“I wasn’t blind,” Val says. “
So I could see the dots and learned what the letters were. Or in this case, the numbers.”

“
And?” Stanford asks.

“It’s a code,” Val says. “The Code Monkeys actually have a code on their backs.” Her face is white and the sketch starts to tremble. She hands it back, but not before everyone notices.

“And not the code to the lock box where Uncle Collin keeps his vintage porn collection, I’m guessing?” Stanford says.

“No,” Val says. “It’s NORAD.
”

Everyone stares at her, understanding the shakes now.
They’ve all heard of the legends of NORAD.

“
Like the NORAD that built the Silos?” Cole asks. “That’s for those old missiles, right?”

“
Yeah,” Val says. “It’s a launch code, if I’m reading it right, not the activation code.”

“So they need
an activation code,” Stanford says. “And seeing as they are going to a lot of trouble to push a full assault on the Stronghold…”