Dead Team Alpha: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (31 page)

The machete is raised and then falls. But
it misses her, the flat of the blade smacking across her arm as the boy stumbles forward and stumbles against her. The two tumble to the ground, Marshall on top of Commander Lee. He wheezes and struggles to breathe as blood streams from his mouth, dropping onto Commander Lee’s face. She turns her head and shoves the boy away, seeing the bolt embedded in his back as she tries to get to her feet and fails.

“I got ya,” a welcome voice says. “Hold on, Mom. I got ya.”

The face of her son fills her vision and tears well in her eyes as she watches him drop the crossbow from his hands so he can lift her to her feet.

“Hey now,” Stanford grins. “No crying on the battlefield, right?”

“Where? How?” Commander Lee asks, looking around and seeing how the tone of the fight has changed. The smell of hope fills the air and she grasps her son tightly to her chest. “You’re alive.”

“Debatable,” Stanford says. “Considering how I just ran a fuck ton of miles to get here. But, yeah, I’m breathing.”

“Fuck “em all!” someone shouts and Commander Lee can’t help but smile even though the battle is far from won.

***

DTA. DTB. The Teams.

They fought their way through the Zs outside the wall that weren’t scorched bones and piles of ash, working for every inch, every step towards the massive gate that loomed before them.

Val wondered how they would get inside the Stronghold with the gate closed. The piles of Zs were dust and could no longer be climbed. There were no ladders or ropes around, so when they did reach the gate, she couldn’t help but laugh.

It was a weakness they all knew was there, but couldn’t be
overcome due to the engineering the gate needed to keep from being too heavy to close or open.

The gate was made of wood bolted to a steel frame. And that wood was nothing but cooling coals and glowing embers.

The Teams hurried through, not letting anything stop or slow them. They jumped into the fray, hacking and killing Zs, saving their fellow citizens, pulling people to their feet and slapping weapons back into their hands so they can push on and fight. They worked their way up the street, foot by foot, yard by yard, block by block, until they reached the massive battle in the middle.

“Holy fuck,”
Kevin Ross says, his left cheek nothing but a flap of bloody flesh hanging from his jaw. “You’re here!”

“We’re here,” Diaz
replies, braining a crazy with a steel pipe then jamming the metal through the guts of another. “Now the party can get started.”

“We’re out of ammo!” Kevin shouts.

“So are we!” Alastair says as he joins them. “Makes it more fun this way!”

“Speak for yourself, asshole!” Cole yells as he tucks his shoulder and ducks under what would have been a killing blow. He stands upright and slams his fist into the Monkey’s face, pulverizing bone. The man is dead before he hits the ground. Cole kicks the corpse and turns to the next one. “COME ON!”

Carlotta, Shep, and Tommy Bombs are there and soon they are able to push back the crazies, forcing them to retreat step by bloody step. Some of the Code Monkeys turn, ready to rush off so they can flank the group, but they are met with blades to the chests, spikes to the bellies, knives to their eye sockets.

“Howdy, fuckers,” Lang says.

“Suck my fat dick, bitches,” Tiny D snarls.

The Teams do not stop. Exhausted, hungry, barely able to keep on their feet, they push themselves up to and past
limits, none of them suspect they have. Everywhere there is a cry for help or the scream of someone being cut down, they turn. Working like the perfectly synchronized unit, they are designed to be, the concept of separate Teams is gone. There is only one Team left now.

Dead Team Alpha.

And through all of the violence that comes, all the blood still left to be shed, one member sees something that makes her shiver.

A figure running from the Team command center, a binder tucked under her arm.

Val breaks away from the battle that is progressively moving in the Stronghold’s favor and sprints after the fleeing woman. She ducks around oncoming crazies, putting them down without hesitation. She jukes her body left and right, avoiding the tumbling, rolling bodies of Code Monkeys and Stronghold citizens linked in mortal combat.

Her legs lost their ability to feel a half-mile before they reached the gate, so Val has no idea what damage she is doing to her muscles, tendon,
and ligaments. The vague sensation of something snapping doesn’t slow her. Her will won’t let it, as she pushes beyond anything she has ever experienced.

Only yards away, Val reaches down and pulls
her blade from her belt. In the amount of time it takes for one foot to fall before the other, she gauges the distance, cocks her arm back, and lets the blade fly.

In slow motion
, two feet of steel tumbles end over end, growing closer and closer to its target until it thunks home, landing squarely between Skye’s shoulder blades, at least three inches deep. The woman skids and falls, the binder flying from her grasp and into a pile of smoldering Z corpses.

Val
rushes towards the woman, head swimming and vision blurred from fatigue and lack of oxygen. It’s the blurred vision that’s Val’s undoing as she doesn’t see Skye reach back and yank the blade free. The blind woman rolls over and before Val knows it, her own blade is returning to her. It hits its mark and Val’s feet slide to a halt, skidding in the grit and dirt. She looks down at the handle that sticks out just below her ribs. The pain hasn’t hit yet, so she has a second to glance behind and see the tip protruding from her back. Then the shock sets in and her eyes go wide with surprise.

Val’s
knees hit the ground and she watches as Skye gets to her feet, staggers to the binder, and picks it up, ignoring the flaming plastic cover that melts right into her skin. She gives Val a slight smile and then she is gone into the haze of smoke that wafts back and forth across the entrance to the Stronghold.

She knows better than to pull the knife free, but Val wants the blade out of her, as if the tainted blood from the Code Monkey will turn her, make her into one of those things; things worse than any Z can ever be,

This is the last thought that goes through her mind as she falls over onto her side, crying out, the sound of her voice, and then the sound of feet pounding towards her, the last things she hears.

Chapter Eleven- Rocky Mountain
Sigh

“I am not okay with this,” Hamish says as Val gets up from the bed, a dotting of blood seeping through the bandages that wrap her torso. “You need to rest. You need to-ah-fuck, Val! You’ve busted some stitches!”

“Bound to happen with a shit doctor like you taking care of her,” Stanford says from the hospital room doorway. “She’s lucky she hasn’t died of sepsis already in this shithole.”

“Fuck you, Ford,” Hamish frowns. “I keep a sanitary and cleanly environ-”

“Stop, dude,” Stanford says. “I’m just fucking with you.”

“Either of you gentlemen going to help a lady?” Val asks, holding out a hand as she grips one of the side rails of the hospital bed.

“Show me one and I’ll certainly help,” Stanford says as he and Hamish both hurry forward to keep Val from falling.

“See?” Hamish says. “You can barely stand.”

“We’re going to be late,” a snide voice says from the hallway then
Benji appears with a wheelchair. “This is the biggest bit of pomp and circumstance this place has seen in years. I don’t want to miss it.”

“Oh, stop,” Stanford says. “My mother wouldn’t start the ceremony without me there.” He sees the looks around him. “Right. Yeah, we better hurry.”

Val settles into the wheelchair and Benji pushes her out the door into the chaos of the Stronghold hospital. The rooms are filled to capacity with citizens still recuperating. Surprisingly, or not, there were very few that were bitten by Zs. Most of those healing from their injuries, received them from the Code Monkeys and blind crazies.

Families mill about, but
they are starting to filter towards the front entrance, leaving at least one member to stay behind with their bedridden loved one. Or loved
ones
, as the case is for many a family.

Outside the hospital, waiting
not so patiently, stand Diaz, Tiny D, and Alastair. They all smile and salute when she gets to the curb.

“Sir,” Diaz says. “Good to see you awake and out of the woods.”

“What’s this sir shit?” Val asks. “I haven’t been promoted. Me as TL was only the one time while we were in the field. Commander Lee has to decide who will lead DTA, not me. And it could be anyone.”

“I have a feeling it will be you,” Tiny D says. “You may be a rookie, but you didn’t steer us wrong. Plus, there’s no way I could follow Diaz’s orders
. Anyone with stank breath like his doesn’t deserve the TL job.”

“Stank breath? What the fuck, TD?” Diaz protests. “Where did that come from?”

“You sure you don’t want to just quit and retire?” Alastair asks. “Spend you days with your dad and a jar of hooch?”

“She’d have to get her own fucking jar of hooch,” Collin says as he walks up to the group. “I ain’t sharing mine.”

“Hey,” Val nods.

“Hey, yourself,” Collin replies. He scoots between Benji and the wheelchair. “I got it from here. You all go on ahead without us. We’ll be along shortly.”

“It’s going to be starting soon,” Stanford says. “And if my mom won’t wait for me, she won’t wait for you.”

“She’ll wait for me,” Collin says. “I’m still her brother and will whoop her ass.”

He frowns as laughter erupts at the absurdity of the idea.

“Okay, fuck off, all of you,” Collin says, pushing Val down the street towards Folsom Field, once a football stadium, but now the staging area for the Teams when they gather and also the main meeting area for the entire Stronghold.

Stanford raises an eyebrow, but Val just shakes her head and waves him on.

“I’ll save you a seat,” Stanford says. “Oh, wait, you already have one.”

“Be careful with her!” Hamish shouts after Val and Collin. “I mean it!”

“Oh, if he means
it, then I better be careful,” Collin says. “Pussy.”

“Dad,” Val growls.

“Sorry, sorry,” Collin replies. “I should be nice, since the guy did save my daughter’s life.”

They get a block away,
hanging back out of earshot of the others who have hurried on ahead, before Collin speaks again.

“I know you have questions,” Collin says. “Things don’t add up and that has always bugged the fuck out of you, even when you were little.”

“Things not adding up bug a lot of people,” Val says. “Kind of how lies work.”

“Yep,” Collin nods, but stays silent for another block.

“So…?” Val finally asks.

“So,” Collin echoes then sighs. “There’s something you need to know about your mother. And your brother. But, mostly about Molly.”

“What about Mom?” Val asks, looking over her shoulder and up at her father. “She died as a disgrace. A suicide. Not how a Mate goes out.”

“That’s true,”
Collin says. “But let me tell you something and maybe you won’t be so hard on her memory.”

“Dad,” Val protests. “I don’t have the energy for the past. The present is too busy kicking my ass.”

“Shut the fuck up and listen to your old man,” Collin snaps. “When was the last time I decided to get personal? Without being drunk?” He leans forward and blows into her face. Although the smell of onions is prevalent, alcohol isn’t. “See? I don’t plan on staying this way for long, so take advantage of it while you can.”

“Fine,” Val scowls. “Talk.”

“When you brother died, your mom took it hard,” Collin says. “I know you did too, but she did especially. You don’t know what it’s like to lose a child, Val. It’s a pain that can’t be described, only experienced. And not something I’d even wish on those Monkey fuckers.”

He looks up into the crystal blue Colorado sky. His eyes mist
a little, but he holds back the real tears.

“Your brother was born blind and also had other health problems,” Collin says.

“What? What other problems?” Val asks.

“Lung issues. Immune issues,” Collin says. “Heart issues. You name it, that boy had it. You know how we kept him inside most of his life? It wasn’t
just because he was blind.” Collin shakes his head and laughs. “We knew the games you two played. That boy was a born fighter and could have handled himself just fine, even without eyes.

“But he was sick, Val. His body couldn’t handle being around others too much. He didn’t have the resistance
to fight off infections. In the end, that is what took him from us. His body wore down. Just like we all do, eventually, but he only got a few years, not a lifetime.”

“Okay, so he was sicker than I knew,” Val says. “Other kids have gotten sick and died. That outbreak of whooping cough nearly killed half the kids when I was sixteen.”

“Yes, but what happened to your brother was your mother’s fault,” Collin says.

“It was what?” Val snaps, grabbing the wheels and bringing the chair to a halt. “Fuck you it was!”

She struggles against Collin’s grip until he smacks her in the back of the head to get her to stop.

“Listen, you crazy twat,” Collin says. “It was your mother’s fault because of the nukes! She was exposed to too much radiation when she was pregnant with you brother!”

This revelation gets Val to calm down. She places her hands in her lap and goes very still. Collin continues to push her, slowing a little as they can now hear the sounds of the Stronghold assembling in the stadium.

“This isn’t the first time the Stronghold has dealt with those Monkeys,” Collin says. “Back when your mother first joined DTA, she went on a mission to Peterson Air Force Base. We were in the thick of it again with the Consortium, and the guy in charge of the Teams then, Commander Fawaz, sent DTA down to the base to destroy the control center for the nuclear missiles housed in the Silos.”

He breathes in and then slowly lets it out. Val can feel him shaking slightly as he pushes her along.

“When she got
back, she found out she was pregnant,” Collin says. “We were pretty fucking happy, but then Fawaz sent DTA up to the Silos to disable the nukes directly. Information they brought back to the base said that each Silo had its own launch control. The mission wasn’t done.”

“Jesus,” Val whispers. “You let her go?”

“We didn’t know,” Collin says. “No one knew that some of the nukes would be damaged and leaking radiation. The Code Monkeys were in the Silos. They were-
are
-a cult and worshipped the nukes like gods. Fucking cults.”

He spits on the ground and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Looking towards the
stadium, he sees they are very close.

“Long fucking story short,” he says. “When John was
born, we knew the radiation had affected him, but we had no idea how much it had affected her. When she took her life, she was in more pain than you can imagine, both physically and emotionally. She had lived with cancer for years, hiding it from even me for most of those years, until it slowly ate away enough of her that she couldn’t go on. Then your brother died and that was that.”

“That was that?” Val says. “She didn’t say goodbye!”

“I know,” Collin agrees. “And that pisses me off too. But if she’d said goodbye, she wouldn’t have had the strength to do what she did.”

Collin stops the wheelchair and moves around in front
, getting to his knees so he is eye level with Val.

“
Before you fully judge her, go talk to your aunt,” Collin says. “She knows the story. She’ll back me up on this. Your mother didn’t die a disgrace, she died a hero. She kept a secret like she was asked to do.”

He gets up and starts pushing her towards the crowd
again.

“A secret? What secret?” Val asks. “Dad? What secret?”

“Ask you aunt,” Collin says. “If she doesn’t tell you, then I will, but I think it should come from her directly.

Val scowls as she is wheeled into the stadium. Those that filter in start to wave or say their
hellos, but stop when they see the look on her face. Many just nod and turn away quickly.

***

“They were all heroes,” Commander Lee says, finishing up the eulogy for the fallen Mates of the Teams, “as was every single person that fought that day two weeks ago. More than ever, we must live by our words and always remember.”

“Every person counts,” the crowd says, a somber note to the refrain.

“That they do,” Commander Lee says. “After today, the Teams will be making some hard decisions regarding leadership and membership.” She looks out at the couple of thousand faces before her. “We lost six-hundred and forty-eight citizens that day. Many of them would have made perfect candidates for the Teams. The loss of their lives, and any future service they would have provided, will be felt in many ways for years to come. But now is not the time to retreat into our grief. Now is the time to rebuild from that grief. To rebuild what we have here. I’m not talking about rebuilding the houses or the gate. I’m talking about rebuilding the strength that has always been what keeps the Stronghold a beacon of safety and security in this wasteland of a world.”

She stops and locks eyes with every Mate seated in the front row below the platform
that she stands upon. They all meet her gaze and nod.

“The Teams are so much more than fighting units out to kill Zs and protect reclaim crews,” she continues. “You have all witnessed that. They are our way of life. They are what we strive to be when we play with sticks and slingshots as kids. Not all of us
are cut out for the Teams, and I’m grateful for that, Lord knows what I’d do if every one of you out there were Mates.”

The stadium laughs, all thinking of the chaos
that would mean.

“But we all do our part to support them,” she laughs
, “even when they do get a little crazy. And part of that support is to join them. Starting next week, we will be holding open Trials for anyone that wants to try for the Teams. It doesn’t matter how old you are, or if you have even completed your two years of mandatory duty, you will be eligible. We don’t have the numbers to pick and choose anymore.”

She stops and glances behind her to where the Mayor and council members are seated, all watching her intently. When she looks back at the
crowd, she is in full Commander form.

“As of next
week, we will be expanding the Teams,” she announces. “Doubling them, in fact. This means we need any able-bodied person that wants to try for the Trials to do so. This is something that has to be done, because after what happened two weeks ago, we can’t afford to forget.” Her voice grows low. “We have already made that mistake.”

“We always remember!” someone shouts.

Many echo it and the confusion and uncertainty of the crowd changes to one of pride and enthusiasm.

Commander Lee welcomes the enthusiasm, applauding an
d then saluting the crowd. The Mates all stand and salute her back, those that can. Val, seated in her chair since Stanford has clamped his hand on her shoulder, preventing her from standing, salutes as well, but she can’t help noticing that the enthusiasm does not reach her aunt’s eyes.