The Dead Series (Book 3): Dead Weight (28 page)

He knew
that Cage walked the perimeter every night at the same time, so he checked his watch to gauge where the Major might be. Cutting across the camp, he made his way between a wide array of tents and trailers while giving the motor pool a wide berth. Despite the fact that he was an officer, he wasn’t exempt from being shot by the sentries if they found him wandering through this area.

As he stepped
out from between two tents, he stopped. He could see the fence ahead of him and could just make out the Major’s shape walking with another person far down on his left. This would probably be Staff sergeant Fagan, the man Cage told him about who would be helping them. He didn’t want to call out and attract attention to himself, so he cut back through the camp to approach the two men from another angle.

He turned a
bruptly and was about to move when the hair on the back of his neck rose up in warning, and a chill went through him at the sight of a shadowy figure ducking behind a storage locker.

Am I being followed
?

When he saw
more movement on one of the tracks that ran through the camp, his hand dropped to the pistol at his hip. Drawing a sharp breath and his weapon at the same time, he relaxed when he saw it was only two men pushing wheelbarrows. Randal looked around again but only saw the usual activity of a nighttime camp. He looked closer at the bin where he’d seen the movement and saw that it was used for cold storage, then realized he was behind one of the two mess halls in the compound.

H
e told himself that it had probably just been a cook sneaking out for a smoke, so he holstered his pistol and started off. Despite his own reassurances, this time he stayed to the main roads that crisscrossed the compound.

Randal came
out onto the dirt track that ran around the inside perimeter of the fence and looked for Cage and Fagan. Seeing that he’d gotten ahead of them and they were still a few hundred feet away, he waited for them; he had a lot to tell Cage.

The same chill he’d felt behind the mess tent suddenly struck him, so he spun abruptly on his heel as his hand dropped to his pistol. Scanning the darkened area, he saw the usual tents, mobile homes and storage bins.

Shaking his head at his own paranoia, he turned back to find the two men approaching him.

“Good evening,
Lieutenant,” Cage said loudly in case anyone was in earshot.

“Good evening, Major,” Randal answered.

Motioning with his hand, Cage said, “Care to join us? We’re walking the perimeter.”

“Yes, sir, I would,
sir. Thank you.” Randal said loudly, and then in a quieter voice added, “I have a lot to tell you, Major.”

In this area of
the camp, the tents were only separated from the fence by the perimeter road, so the men walked in silence until they came to an area where they wouldn’t be overheard. Since they had stopped Hawkins from using the civilians at the chicken processing plant, they knew they had to be careful or they’d give themselves away. If caught, they understood they would all be sent to Dead Duty at best, or shot for treason at worst.

Reaching the helicopter pad, Cage stopped, lit
a hand rolled cigarette and asked, “So what’s going on up at the farmhouse, Lieutenant?”

Randal took
a deep breath, before replying, “A lot, sir. Hawkins threw a fit when he found out his test subjects were rescued by you before he could use them. He ordered us to immediately go out and find some more.”

“And?” Cage asked.

“I tried to keep my men in the areas we’d already searched, but this one, Sergeant Cain, that they sent me from Fort Hood, took off on his own when he was supposed to be reconnoitering the lake. He came across a group of about twenty to thirty people living in an abandoned school a few miles on the other side of town, sir.”

“You’ve got some real eager beavers on your squad, don’t you
Lieutenant?” Cage asked.

Randal laughed and said, “Not really. We do what we’re supposed to
, but no more. This guy is an ex-ranger who supposedly got hurt in the battle for Orleans. They sent him here to convalesce, sir.”

“The Rangers aren’t in New Orleans,” Fagan told him.

“Are you sure?” Randal asked.

Fagan snorted and said, “I was
just there, I’m sure, sir. They’re considered too valuable a resource to waste on that kind of duty.”

The three men came to the same conclusion at the same
time; Randal had a spy in his platoon.

“Who do you think he’s working for?” Randal asked.

“Could be anyone,” Cage answered. “But my guess is that whoever he reports to, reports to the Joint Chiefs. They’ve got a lot invested in this, so it would only make sense they have someone watching it.”

Getting them back on track, Fagan said, “So you told us you found some more survivors, sir. When is Hawkins planning his next test?”

In two or three days,” Randal told them. “Before, he wanted to assess the Z’s capabilities in getting through the fence at the processing plant, but now he wants to see how an overwhelming number of them will fare against a brick structure. The school is a two-story and the first floor openings are reinforced. From the report Sergeant Cain brought back, he says that there’s not a lot of the dead around since it’s off the beaten path, but that’ll change as soon as they get the Malectron inside and turn it on. The school is about a mile from the I40 and there are always huge groups of Z’s wandering it. Add to what it’ll attract from the town and…” His voice trailed off.

“What’s the range
on that thing, sir,” Fagan asked.

“That’s one of the things they
need to test,” Fagan told him. “I’ve overheard some numbers getting thrown around, but best estimate puts it at eight miles.”

“Eight miles in
a straight line?” Cage asked.

“No, sir,” Randal answered. “It will attract every Z in an eight mile radius.”

Fagan gave a low whistle and said, “That’s a lot a lot of dead meat hitting one spot at the same time.” He looked at the fence a few yards away, and then added, “If we get hit like that, we’re through.”

“But we’re protected by the first unit
Hawkins made,” Randal told him. “It isn’t as effective as this one, but it’ll keep eighty percent or more of them away. The rest of them seem to know that they need large numbers to overwhelm us so they stay away.”

Turning to Cage, Fagan asked, “So how do we do this, Major, go in and pick them up again
before Hawkins gets to them?”

Cage considered this a moment before saying, “We could, but then Hawkins will just find some other poor
, dumb schmucks to run his test on. That we got to those people at the processing plant before he did could be written off as a coincidence, but if we do it again, he’ll know we have someone on the inside and I don’t want to put the Lieutenant in any danger. We need something to slow him down and buy Doctor Connors some time.”

“Disable his vehicles,” Fagan proposed.

Randal shook his head, and replied, “The Humvee he uses for his equipment is up at the farmhouse and the trucks we use are kept in the motor pool under guard to prevent desertion. We’d have to sneak through the sentries to do that.”

Knowing how tight security was at the motor pool, since he was the one who set it up, Cage said
to Randal, “You said we’ve got a day or two before he goes out, so that gives us some time to set something up. We need to think on this some more and come up with a plan. Let’s meet back here tomorrow night and see what we’ve got.” Catching Lieutenant Randal’s eye, he stressed, “I need you to keep a close eye on Hawkins though. If he even looks like he’s getting ready to move, let me know.”

Randal saluted and turned to go. He stopped when Cage called after him, “Be careful,
Lieutenant.”

“You too, sir,” he replied
before setting off into the camp.

***

Lieutenant Randal checked with the man at the front desk in the farmhouse to find out if there were any new orders from Hawkins. He was informed that the doctor had turned in for the night so he decided to do the same.

Not that you’re going to
get any sleep, he told himself.

His mind
was filled with all that he had learned and what he had been through in the past few weeks. In particular, he vividly recalled being inside the compound at the reservoir when it was overrun. The dead had literally swarmed the area. There had been so many, he was still amazed that any of them had gotten out alive. It had been a free-for-all fight for his life and it was a miracle he had come out on top.

Regrettably,
seven of his men hadn’t, and that weighed heavily on him.

When they’d finally gotten back to base and he
had found out that the real reason behind the test was to attract the dead rather than to repel them, it had taken three people to keep him from killing Hawkins. As he struggled to break free, one of the doctors sedated him. Once he woke up, he discovered that he’d been strapped to a bed on the third floor of the farmhouse.

Despite the effects of the drug they
’d given him, which made him feel like he was at peace with the world, he resolved that as soon as they let him loose, he would strangle Hawkins with his bare hands. An orderly came in and injected him with something and he found himself drifting off again.

When he came to,
Hawkins was standing over him. The doctor explained that it had all been a horrible accident. The test on the Malectron had been started prematurely by one of his scientists. He went on to say that there would be no more mistakes or slip ups and that the man who flipped the switch early had been punished. When Randal asked how, Hawkins told him that he had been one of the people killed at the observation site.

Whether it was the
drugs or Hawkins apparent sincerity, his determination to kill the doctor left him. After assuring Hawkins that he wouldn’t try to seek retribution for the loss of his men, he was released to continue his duties.

Despite no longer wanting to strangle the doctor, Randal still knew Hawkins had to be stopped
. That was why he’d approached Cage.

Opening the door to his trailer he
felt dead tired, but his mind continued to search for ideas on how to slow down or stop the next test. As he entered he flipped the light switch, but the room remained dark. He cocked his head, listening for the sound of the generator and could hear it humming in the distance. Thinking the light bulb had blown, he wondered where he could find another. This one had cost him a canned ham, and the supply sergeant had told him it was one of the last.

S
ince he knew the trailer’s layout by heart, he decided it didn’t matter anyway and stepped inside. Blinking his eyes against the darkness, he took another step when he felt the inside of his head explode in a burst of stars. He could feel himself falling forward as the light turned to darkness.

***

Major Cage and Sergeant Fagan finished walking the perimeter before splitting up on the main road running through the compound. Fagan headed for the tent he shared with Jimmy while Cage headed back to his office since he still had work to do. There were only menial requests and reports to review, but he tended to think better on more important subjects when his mind was occupied by mindless tasks.

He flipped
on the light switch, squinting his eyes as brightness flooded the trailer. Cage moved quickly through his aide’s office, entered his own and was soon settled behind his desk. Looking at his overflowing in-box, he knew it would be a long night.

As he worked, his mind
turned over how they could slow Hawkins down. When he finally retired to his quarters at four AM, his in box was empty; but so was he of any idea of how to stop the doctor.

***

His real name was Truman Swiggles, not Sergeant Cain, and he was in his element. After clipping the electrodes to lieutenant Randal’s scrotum, he walked across the room to where a table held a single item.

A hand cranked telephone.

In his twelve years with the CIA, he’d seen water boardings and beatings, but he knew if you were trying to get the truth out of someone, a good jolt of electricity to the nuts would do absolute wonders. He’d almost left the phone, since it was bulky and cumbersome, but brought it along just in case he needed it. Now he was glad he did. It was a nineteen thirties model that would have fetched a fortune on eBay due to its immaculate condition, but tonight, he had other uses in mind for it.

It was a simple
mechanism; you just cranked the handle to create a charge of up to 100 volts, which could power the phone and the ringer. But if instead, you hooked two wires up to the magneto and attached the other end to someone’s privates, it caused excruciating pain and possibly even death.

Tru, as his friends called him, knew
that the trick was in how fast and how long you cranked.

Doctor Hawkins entered and asked, “Is he ready?”

“All yours, doc,” Tru replied.

Walking over to where
Randal was secured by duct tape to a chair bolted in the center of the room on a steel plate, he stopped and studied the defiant look on the man’s face. Hawkins knew that if his mouth weren’t as well bound as his hands and feet, the lieutenant would have tried to spit on him.

Hawkins made
a tsk’ing noise, and then said, “So you’re still holding a grudge about the men you lost. That’s too bad. Every war has its casualties you know. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s to acknowledge and move on.”