Zombie Squad Read online

  But Nick shoved that doubt away. For James to not have survived, locked away in his bunker with all of his supplies and weapons, seemed like impossibility. It was the same reason Nick felt sure that Katherine Laslo was still alive; there were certain people that had been expecting something like this and were ready to head underground when the shit hit the fan. Nick had unknowingly spent the last four or five years of his life building relationships with those sorts of people.

  The truck approached and came to a stop several feet away from the other side of the fence. It was a beat up red Toyota with huge spotlights attached to the top. The driver’s side door opened slowly and a man stepped out without much caution. It was clear that he wasn’t afraid of the two men on the other side of his fence.

  “James?” Nick asked.

  The man stepped closer and Nick saw that it was indeed James McAllister. He was wearing a long thick beard that looked as if it hadn’t seen a shave since the outbreak. His eyes looked tired and hollowed out and he had lost a great deal of weight. He looked very close to being malnourished.

  “Holy shit,” James McAllister said, taking two large strides towards the fence and then coming to a halt, as if only then remembering the power it contained. “Nick Blackburn. What the hell are you doing out here?”

  “It’s a long story,” Nick said. “And I’d really like to share it with you. Can you let us in?”

  James looked away from Nick, his eyes settling on Griffith. “And who are you?”

  “I’m Sergeant Duncan Griffith, US Army.”

  James seemed to think about this for a moment and then let out a burst of laughter that was so loud that it made Nick cringe. He again noticed Griffith’s hand on the butt of his Glock.

  “He’s for real,” Nick said. “There’s a whole network of military and government people living in two bases in the US. They recruited me and—”

  James was leaning against the hood of his truck now, howling with laughter. “The Army…still around,” he said through hitching breaths. “Priceless.”

  “I need your help,” Nick said, hoping to get through to James.

  It took a while, but the scrawny man’s laughter died off. He wiped tears away from his eyes and looked at Griffith again. He stared the man down for a good ten seconds before turning back to Nick.

  “You said they recruited you?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “For what?”

  “I’d really rather tell you while we’re on both on your side of the fence. Trust me, James.”

  James smiled, an echo of the boisterous laughter he’d just expelled showing in it. “Nick, I like you and I guess when you get right down to it, I consider you a friend. But given your history, I find it a little hard to trust you.”

  “That’s fine. I just need you to hear me out.”

  “And I suppose you want me to let your little government buddy inside, too?”

  “Yes, please.”

  James eyed the two men on the other side of his fence again and then started walking to the left. He walked to where a small hole had been dug several feet away from the fence. He hunkered down and slid a metal plate out of the way. Nick could just barely see the controls to the electric fence as James shut the power down.

  Slowly, the hum around them faded until it went dead. At the same instant, Nick could sense the hairs on his arm relaxing.

  James walked to the post that sat along the right edge of the dirt road as he took a set of keys out of his pocket. He unlocked four different locks and then removed a metal barricade that sat wedged along the center of the gate. With that done, he opened the gate, a long section of fence that squeaked on its large hinges as it was pushed open.

  “Make it quick,” James said. “I haven’t seen a rambler around here in several weeks, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

  Nick and Griffith climbed back into their truck quickly. Griffith pulled in through the gate while James waited for them to pass. Nick watched in the rearview and watched as James closed the gate, locked it, and then switched the power to the fence back on.

  “Your friend doesn’t seem very happy to see you,” Griffith said. “I mean, he did at first, but that changed pretty quickly.”

  “James spent at least five years before the outbreak trying to live off the grid,” Nick explained. “He had a total distrust of the government. I assume the fact that he’s willingly letting anyone involved in the military on his property is leaving a bad taste in his mouth.”

  “He seems a little unbalanced. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Nick found himself getting irritated at the way Griffith was speaking about James. But the truth of the matter was that Nick had sensed it, too. James McAllister had never really been a mentally stable man, but there was something different about him now—something that seemed almost like madness. Nick had only seen the man for a brief three minutes with the fence between them and had been able to pick up on it. He wondered what sort of travesties James had endured over the last two years. What lengths had he gone to in order to survive?

  “I think he’ll come around once I explain things to him,” Nick said.

  He hoped this was true, but already felt doubt weighing heavy on his heart.

  ***

  The cabin was the same as Nick remembered it. It was a large five room log cabin that looked like it belonged in a prestigious interior design magazine. It had collected a bit of dust and was littered with books, empty food containers, and assorted dirty clothes, but still managed to look elegant.

  James led them through his large living room, pointing to the three televisions screens mounted on the wall. One of the screens showed a still picture of the dirt road on the other side of the electric fence.

  “That’s how I knew you were out there,” James said. “I have fifteen other cameras set up along the perimeter of the fence. They’re motion activated. Most of the times when ramblers get brave enough to try getting in, I can watch them fry.”

  James then led them into a sparse kitchen and then another large room that was set up as a study. There were computers set up here, one of which was on and displaying a PDF file.

  “I assume the electricity in the surrounding towns is still operational?” Griffith asked.

  “It lasted about three months after everything went to hell,” James said. “I still don’t know what caused it to go out when it did. But I scampered down to the library, did some research and rode out to the power station and fixed it myself. It wasn’t too hard. There have been a few other times when it went out and I had to roll out and fix it. But yeah, I’m blessed with electricity. That fence out there sucks up quite a bit, as you can guess. Can you imagine what the power bill would be if I was still being charged?”

  He laughed heartily again and Nick realized that it was the man’s laugh that gave off the hint of madness. It was the sound of a man that had been alone for far too long. It was almost like he had forgotten how to laugh, as if his throat was pushing too hard to make the sound.

  “You still got the bunker?” Nick asked.

  “I do. Right under our feet. I lived in it for about four months after I cut the power back on the first time. There were so many of those things out there…I was sure I’d die in that bunker because I was too damn scared to go out. But after four months I went out just to see if the world was still there. The ramblers or whatever they are were still out there, but there weren’t as many.”

  “And you’ve had no contact with anyone since the outbreak?” Griffith asked. “No survivors from this area?”

  “None.”

  The three men were silent for a moment as they stood in the study. Nick looked to the PDF on the computer and saw that James was reading an old medical file of some kind.

  “What’s this?” Nick asked, pointing to the screen.

  “Some documents I managed to get my hands on while people were still trying to keep documents secret. That right there is the charts of one of the first people t
hat got the parasite.”

  “You have a lot of documents like that?” Griffith asked.

  “Yes. From Roswell to the Ebola scare in 2014.”

  “How?”

  “Does that really matter now?” James asked, stepping in front of the computer screen to block it.

  Nick saw where this was going and did not want a confrontation between these two so early on. What the hell had he been thinking anyway? Had he really expected James McAllister to willingly help the government in any way?

  “So here’s the deal,” Nick said, interrupting the exchange. He took a seat in an old recliner that was half filled with a stack of old detective paperbacks. “Sergeant Griffith found me in Clarksville, Virginia, out on the lake. He said the men he’s working for had decided to try to find me. They wanted me to help them with a project they’ve planned out. I won’t lie to you, James…it’s nuts. But I think with the right help, it could work.”

  “The right help?” James asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Me?”

  “Yes.”

  “For what?”

  “Your weapons training,” Nick said. “Your survival skills. Because I’ve worked with you in high stress situations before and know that you can handle any amount of shit that’s thrown at you.”

  “Don’t they have other military personnel to help you?”

  “Yes,” Nick said. “But not many, and most of them aren’t very experienced. Besides that, I don’t know them. I don’t trust them.”

  “With all due respect,” Griffith said, “I don’t see—”

  “Hold on,” Nick interrupted. His eyes were still on James, hoping that he was getting through to him. “What the project entails is—”

  “Stop right there,” James said. “Before you even tell me what this is about, I want some answers. Can you give them to me?”

  He was looking directly at Griffith. Griffith, still standing, started to seem nervous. If he hadn’t thought that coming out to James McAllister’s property was a bad idea before, he was starting to now.

  “Answers,” Nick said. “You mean about what happened?”

  “Yes,” James said. “About what happened to the vast majority of human beings. Christ, how many people landed that parasite anyway?”

  “A rough estimate puts the total right at ninety percent,” Griffith said.

  “And what was it? What caused it?”

  “Exactly what you’ve been saying. It was a parasite that we believe came somewhere out of Haiti. It is believed that it was originally passed from a man that had been bitten by a child. Because the ramblers move so damned slow, we’re still not quite sure how it got anywhere else in the world. Some of our experts seem to think that in its early stages, it was quite dormant. It could lie in the human body for days before...activating.”

  “Where does the parasite latch on?”

  “In the brain. I don’t know the exact science behind it. But if you want, there are some back at Langley that can answer the specifics for you.”

  “Ninety percent, you said?”

  “Yes,” Griffith answered.

  “And it’s the whole world, right?”

  “Yes. There were parts of Japan that were spared, but other than that, it was a total global pandemic.”

  “No government involvement?” James asked.

  “What do you mean?” Griffith asked.

  “I’m asking you if the government knew it was going to happen. Or if they legitimately did everything they could to stop it.”

  “That’s a ridiculous question.”

  “Then answer it,” James snapped.

  “Of course the government had nothing to do with it.”

  Griffith was visibly angry at the idea. He took several steps away, fuming. He stared at James with intense hatred for a moment before averting his eyes to the opposing wall.

  James looked to Nick with a thin smile on his face. For the first time since watching him get out of the Toyota on the other side of the electric fence, Nick caught a glimpse of the man he had known rather well before the outbreak had occurred.

  “So tell me about this project they recruited you for,” James said, his focus now solely on Nick. “They must be desperate if they came looking for you.”

  “I think they are,” Nick said. He looked to Griffith for any argument but there was none.

  Nick did his best to fill James in on the project, telling him about the select few that Ogden and his men wanted to be rescued and given the vaccine. After a few minutes, once his anger had cooled down, Griffith added in details that Nick had forgotten to add.

  The entire time, James did not interrupt—not with his disbelief and not with questions. He simply nodded here and there with a thoughtful look on his face, as if he had been expecting them to come by this whole time.

  Griffith helped Nick explain the details about the headquarters in Langley. If James agreed to help, Griffith said, he would be provided with living quarters and the same allotment of food as the rest of the population. As Nick listened to Griffith give his spiel, he realized just how good they had it in Langley. It made him a little more anxious than ever to get this project started.

  When they were done, James remained quiet for a while. He walked through the cabin several times, like a man in a dream. After a few laps through the home that had essentially been his prison for the last two years, he returned to the study, where Nick and Griffith were waiting.

  “Sign me up,” he said. “I still don’t believe the government has clean hands on this, but I do know that those monsters outside killed my wife, my best friends, and even my fucking dog. So if there’s anything I can do to help put an end to it, I’ll do it.”

  “When can you start?” Nick asked.

  “No time like the present,” James said. “There is, however, one stipulation.”

  “What’s that?” Griffith asked.

  “I’m helping with Nick’s project. That means I’ll help as he asks. But I’m not taking orders or assignments from you or any of your superiors.”

  “I can’t give that guarantee,” Griffith said. “But I feel that Colonel Ogden will consider it.”

  James thought about this for a while and then started walking out of the room.

  “Give me five minutes to pack,” James said. “Then we can head to Langley.”

  “Well,” Nick said, “we have one more stop to make first.”

  “Where?”

  “Texas. There’s one more person I’d like to try to find for help.”

  “Who?” James asked.

  “Katherine Laslo.”

  For the briefest of moments, James looked as if someone had slapped him hard across the face. It vanished quickly though, replaced by the maniacal laughter that he’d belted out twice already.

  He laughed this way the entire time he packed, only stopping to catch his breath.

  As Griffith and Nick walked to the living room and looked to the still image of the electric gate on the flat screen, Griffith leaned over and whispered into Nick’s ear.

  “Do you think he’s lost his mind?”

  “No, I think he’s just been alone for a long time.”

  “What’s so funny about you going to find Katherine Laslo? What’s wrong with her?”

  “Nothing,” Nick said.

  Of course, that wasn’t true. And just thinking it made Nick want to laugh hysterically right along with James.

  12

  It was odd, but Nick actually felt safer in the darkness.

  Griffith was behind the wheel of the truck, slicing the night with its headlights. If there were ramblers anywhere to be seen, they were hidden in the dark. Nick preferred it that way. It had been the same when he had been out on the lake; the night had always felt safer. The darkness was no longer a mysterious void where the horrors lurked, but had become a curtain that hid the dead world away.

  Nick looked ahead into the night, feeling the urge to go to sleep. It had been a long day, most of
which had been spent on the road. He had a hard time realizing that he had woken up on his houseboat less than twenty-four hours ago. That seemed like a lifetime ago, part of a distant dream he’d had before the outbreak.

  The digital clock in the truck’s dashboard read 10:22 but it felt much later. Now, with a third person sitting in the back seat of the truck, it felt like an entirely different mission, too.

  Griffith looked like he was close to sleep himself. Nick almost commented on this but kept quiet. He figured if Griffith needed driving relief, he’d ask for it. Nick still wasn’t absolutely certain that he could trust Griffith, but he did sense that the man had a level head on his shoulders.

  “So tell me,” Griffith said, helping to stir Nick from his drowsiness. “Just how do the two of you know each other so well?”

  They’d left James’s retreat behind about an hour ago and it was the first thing of substance that had been said. Up until that point, the car had been filled with a thick tension that was bred from not just the obvious distrust between Griffith and James, but of the miles, they needed to tear through in order to reach Houston, Texas.

  “We originally met when we were both tapped for a job,” James said.

  “Only met doesn’t really explain it properly,” Nick said.

  “Okay then,” James said, correcting himself. “We were thrown together. Nick was hired as a sniper, and I was hired as a consultant, I guess you could say. It was for the Night Hawks.”

  “What are the Night Hawks?” Griffith asked.

  James had a laugh at this, his laughter like some sort of creaking horror movie noise from the darkened back seat. Nick couldn’t help it. He had to chuckle, too.

  “I bet Ogden would know,” Nick said. “Tell him, James. You knew them better than I did.”

  “The Night Hawks were a small offshoot of a rogue military group,” James said, sounding more together and competent than he had since they had come upon his electric fence. “The reason you never heard of them is because the government paid huge sums of money to keep their existence quiet. They paid the media, Congress…anyone that caught wind of the Night Hawk’s existence.”