Man Eaters (Book 2): The Horde Page 18

  “Is there anything we can do to help?”

  “Yes. I need you to pick off the man eaters in the courtyard and that fenced off area. Not until we have secured the main area for tonight will you be going in. Once we’ve secured an area, we’ll go over to the river to see if the rest of our party has made it.”

  “You mean there’s more of you?” Otis asked.

  “Oh yes. Coming with our supplies by way of boat up the river. There’s a crow’s nest up there, as you can see. I’d like one volun—”

  “I’ll do it,” Otis offered, raising his hand. His bald head perspired as he pushed his black-rimmed glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “I got good eyesight.”

  Dallas looked at Henry, who nodded. “Don’t be fooled by them glasses. The boy could spot a fly on a zebra a mile away.”

  Roper tossed him her pair of binoculars. “Don’t lose them.”

  “I won’t, ma’am.”

  “Call out eater if you see a zombie and pig if you see a hostile human.”

  “Pig, ma’am?”

  “Easy to say and they might not shoot at you.”

  Otis grinned and spat a wad of tobacco on the ground. “Gotchas.”

  Dallas smiled over at Roper. “So, until we get everything clear, the best place for the rest of you is out in the open. Fletcher, you’re in charge of stationing shooters to protect the group. I want everyone to always assume there are hostiles tracking our movement.”

  Fletcher saluted. “Aye.”

  “I want everything off the bus. You keep all the ammo and food in the center of the group so it is readily available. If, and only if, a horde is spotted that you can’t handle, are you to follow us inside in the bus. Henry, you are in charge of that decision and in leading the group inside.”

  Henry wasn’t the only one who looked surprised by that assignment, and Dallas noticed this.

  “Look, people, Henry and his boys could have just as easily left us to those hostiles. They didn’t. That earned him stock in my book. If you have any issues, you can talk to me about it later. You with me, Henry?”

  He stood up straighter and repeated. “If and only if we are faced with a horde are we to join you inside.”

  Dallas nodded. “Perfect.”

  “Ma’am?” It was Gary. “Seein’ as I am the only one who’s ever spent time in here, it might save us some time if I went with you. I know this place and there’s some smaller areas we can clean out faster than the main building first. You ain’t gone clear that baby out in a coupla hours, but there are some spots where we can rest easy for the night.”

  Dallas looked to Roper. “What do you think, babe? A ZB will bring any undead to us.”

  “I say go with a guy who’s the expert. We can protect him and it will cut down on the amount of time the others have to stay out here.”

  “Good. Then Gary, you come with us but stay in the middle.”

  “Got no problem with that, ma’am.”

  Before Dallas could issue any more assignments, Roper spoke up. “I know you’re all tired and wary of this new location, but if you just have faith in Dallas and the rest of the CGIs, we can create a safe base from which to take back our lives, so please, don’t lose faith.”

  There was a murmuring in the group until a young girl named Kim raised her hand and said, “You got us this far, Dallas. We’re with you.”

  “Thank you, Kim. Okay then, we all proceed through the entrance and lock up behind us. That means we’ll be locked in with any of the undead, but will be safe from any outside.”

  Otis raised his hand. “Ma’am, we’re only as safe as the fence around this place.”

  “We’ll take care of that first thing tomorrow, Otis. For now, we need for the ZBs to be safe and the CGIs to clean the area. Are there any other questions?”

  After fielding three more minor questions; two about food, the CGIs returned to the Fuchs with Dallas at the wheel, Gary in the back, and Otis on top waiting to be dropped off at the highest tower in the prison.

  Reaching for Roper’s hand, Dallas nodded once. “To the rebellion.”

  Roper raised their hands in the air. “To the rebellion.”

  ****

  The boaters made great time on the Mississippi River on The Survivor. As Luke sailed, Butcher kept her eyes on the shoreline for any sign of life. So far, one pier had a husband and wife who waved like maniacs. When they pulled up to the dock, Butcher held her rifle up and ordered them to strip down. Once naked, Cassidy checked them both out, looking for any bites or scratches. She explained the situation about the body check, as well as where the ship was headed.

  Once the two were okay to come aboard, they were escorted to a small room Luke had fashioned into a holding cell of sorts. They would remain there, locked in, until it was certain they posed no threat, zombie or otherwise.

  Other than them, Butcher had only seen man eaters, all moving in the same direction. Occasionally, one or two would spot them and walk into the water after them, but otherwise, the only people they saw were truly dead ones.

  “She’s gonna be worried,” Einstein said, coming up behind Butcher. “We are way behind schedule.”

  Butcher cocked her head at him. “You really care about them, huh? I mean, I know you care, but they are never far from your mind, are they?”

  “Not them. You guys. You guys never once treated me like I was some stupid little game geek. My whole life, which, admittedly, hasn’t been very long, I’ve been that geek, that dork, that nerd. Never in a million years did I ever think all that gaming would come in handy. For once in my life, my nerdiness is an attribute. You guys respect that.”

  “First of, you’re not a geek. Dude, since this all went down, have you seen many kids your age? No. Why? Because they weren’t as smart as you, that’s why. All those jocks and popular kids who teased you are dead. They didn’t have it. You did. You win. All those asswipes who used to call you names are either zombies or lying in the belly of one. You are the winner. You are the smartest one.” Butcher mussed up his hair.

  Einstein blushed. “Thanks. I guess…I guess I am.”

  “No, kid. You are.”

  They stood at the bow of the ship in silence for a few minutes before Einstein said softly, “What Luke did was crazy and all, but there’s a fine line between crazy and genius, ya know?”

  Butcher looked askance at him. “Is that so?”

  “Yep. Look, the U.N. doesn’t condone an all out strike against us, or we’d all be dead. That much we know. We also know that everyone has probably been fighting over our resources as well, yet no one that we know of has set foot on our soil except a few wandering Japanese. What Luke essentially did was send a message to the global guards that we’re still here and in the game. He let them know the American spirit is alive and well and ready to open a can of whoopass on anyone who thinks we’ve just rolled over and played dead. He may very well have bought us more time, and by us, I mean all of the US.”

  “Yeah, well, hot doggin’ it usually gets people killed.” Butcher thought she felt the baby flutter, so she placed her hand protectively over her belly.

  Einstein cocked his head. “So you disagree with what he did?”

  “Not disagree with what he did, but how he did it. It’s not how we do things.”

  “It was a calculated risk made by a very smart soldier. You need to recognize that in him, Butcher. You all do.”

  Butcher finally turned to face Einstein. “Just what are you getting at?”

  He looked at her hand on her belly. “If you don’t want Luke to hover and worry about you and the baby, have Dallas give him the job of leading the garmy. We need someone with battle and military experience, and Luke is just the guy for the job. He was born ready. Not just ready, but aching to do it.”

  “Lead the—he can’t do that, kid. He’s not a CGI. He’s—”

  “A soldier, Butcher, through and through. He bleeds red, white, and blue. Luke is a soldier who now has a family to protect
, but you’ve de-balled him.”

  Butcher whirled on him. “Now wait just a—”

  “You can get pissed off all you want, but you’ve got a sheepdog who wants to protect the sheep but instead, you put him in the barn with the horses.” Einstein started walking away. “A sheepdog would rather die protecting the sheep than live safely with the horses any day, but you’re too stubborn to see that. All of you are. You’re wasting one of the best we have…I’m just sayin’—it’s something to think about, because if you don’t utilize his skill pool, he will. And you now know just what that looks like.”

  He was down below before she could respond.

  “Damn him.” Butcher stopped looking at the shoreline and gazed down at the water in front of the yacht. She hated how smart that kid was sometimes.

  De-balled?

  Butcher cringed. She would have to do something about that.

  ****

  Gary wanted to be the first out of the Fuchs once they passed the front gate but Dallas needed a lot more intel before getting out.

  First of all, there were still man eaters roaming about the yard, all wearing bloody and bedraggled orange jumpsuits from the prison. The ZBs were doing a good job of putting them down. One by one they fell like trees dropped by a buzz saw. Dallas would wait until all were down before opening the ramp, slowly maneuvering the Fuchs through the entrance and then shutting the gate, locking them inside.

  It was the only way to protect the others.

  Once the main gate was closed, they passed through other gates until they arrived at a place called Camp F. Camp F resembled the long building of grammar schools from days past.

  “This is good,” Gary said. “Camp F is a group of four minimum custody dormitories, and the Dog Pen. The Dog Pen’s got beds for eleven minimum custody inmates. It’s smaller and more manageable for now. We can protect it and stay safe while we clear out the rest.”

  “Why not the main complex?” Dallas asked.

  “Too big, by far. If we’d gotten here in the early morning, then maybe, but for this evening, we need to secure a place that ain’t so big. The prison has four dorms in the shape of an X. We can clear those out later, but Camp F only has the four minimum security dorms and the Dog Pen. There’s a lake behind it. They kept it pretty stocked up with fish, too, which oughtta still be in there. Camp F is small enough for us to clean out today. It’ll give ya’ll time to familiarize yourselves with the layout of the prison and be safe before we take them things on.”

  “I’d rather we not use the prison word,” Dallas said. “I don’t want people to feel like it is. Let’s call it Base Camp.”

  “Gotcha. Anyway, Camp F is the easiest area for us to clear out. It’s where the trustees lived, so there ain’t cell after cell of dead folk.” Gary waited. When no one said anything, he continued. “Ma’am, there are likely five thousand dead or undead inmates in the pr—in there. That’s the stench. Cleaning that all up is gone take a while. So we make our main camp here first. Inside. We get everyone situated and then we gotta burn them bodies.” He looked around. “Gone be dark in there, too, without no lights.”

  Dallas nodded, grateful the five outlaws were now on their side. “Excellent. So we secure the interior of Camp F, and then we’ll work on clearing the exterior of the buildings tomorrow, make sure the fences are still safe, and then figure out the best way to go about clearing the rest out.”

  “That sounds like a real good plan, ma’am.”

  “Then let’s do it. Keep Gary in the center. I need you to refrain from running ahead. You’re the only one who is really at risk here. Let us protect you.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Don’t need to tell me twice.”

  When the ramp lowered, all eight of the CGIs, plus Gary, exited and found the front entrance not only unlocked, but opened.

  “Stay in a square, three rows of three. Kill anything that moves, do not move out of formation.”

  “Even survivors?”

  “Even survivors.”

  Gary nodded. “Dallas is right. This was maximum security with almost ninety percent on death row. Whoever was in here doesn’t belong with us, and whoever stayed here, isn’t someone we wanna play with.”

  Ferdie whistled. “Harsh.”

  “Harsh keeps us alive, Ferdie. If it moves, kill it. Are we all clear on that?”

  Apparently, everyone was.

  Once that was cleared up, they all swung their weapons in front of themselves and entered Camp F.

  Camp F didn’t have the feel of prison or lockdown facility. It had a couple of offices and Dallas could see a dormitory beyond the bars. It was more open than she expected it to be, more well lit, but the thick stench of death still permeated the air, making it hard to breathe.

  Everyone who could pulled their shirt up over their noses.

  “Okay folks, this smell means only mean one thing: Eaters are probably still alive and slowly rotting.”

  Gary grabbed his rifle and shoved the butt against his shoulder. “This will be the easiest—”

  Everyone stopped moving when they heard it: low growls of dogs or…

  “Coyotes!” Roper shot first, taking out the first coyote to leap from the pack that had managed to wander inside in search of food.

  Dallas and Churchill shot the next two at the same time, while Zoe and Ferdie took out the last two. The final coyote was shot dead before it could move.

  Everyone stood still, quietly breathing hard, eyes on their gun sights.

  “Jesus H,” someone muttered.

  “We may be CGI, but the rest of the carnivorous world can still tear us to shreds,” said Dallas. “Hence, if it moves, kill it. Don’t hesitate.”

  “Amen to that.”

  As they neared the camp, Churchill leaned over to Roper and whispered, “After being in the bayou, this place is really dark.”

  “Yeah, sorta creepy, huh?”

  “Not sorta.”

  It took three hours to sweep Camp F more than once. Every nook and cranny was searched and re-searched. When Dallas was sure this section of the prison was clear, she left the others to start setting up and walked out to the bus and van group. On her way out, she found a cart with paint and paint gear tipped over. Three rolls of blue paint tape lay on the dusty floor, so she picked one up and wore it like a bracelet.

  When they finally got back outside, there were seven dead ghouls in various places twenty-five feet away from where she had left the group, all put down by the silent but deadly bolts.

  “You guys okay?” Dallas asked Fletcher, staring in appreciation at the crossbow he held. “That’s…well it’s not really a bow is it?”

  Fletcher grinned. “No ma’am. It’s carbon-fusion with scope and auto load. I am…I was working on the patent when this all went down. It can hold twenty-four bolts at once. Shoots at a blistering four hundred feet per second, and all I have to do is slap on another speed loader to have twenty-four more.”

  “Impressive. No wonder you’re so fast.” She nodded to the dead man eaters. “What happened here?”

  “A few stragglers,” Fletcher said. “We put ‘em down as quickly and as quietly as we could.”

  Henry joined them. “Ma’am, after seeing what Hunter and Fletcher are capable of doing with those toys, me and my guys’d love to learn how to shoot a bow.”

  Dallas patted Henry’s broad back. “Then you’re in luck. There will be scheduled lessons on the docket as soon as we get camp set up. We’ll clean the grounds while the rest of you start setting up shop in Camp F. Once we get the exterior clean, some of you will come out to assist with any repairs of the fencing. You all work it out, but we need about six of you to assist in that.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “It will be dangerous work, so send three of the best shooters. So…here’s what we’ve done. We’ve cleaned out a minimum security building. All ZBs will be required to stay in the building until we sweep the exterior. Only when we know it’s one hundred percent safe in there will
we bring the rest of you in. Keep it as secure as you can until we come get you.”

  “What about the boat?”

  Everyone glanced up to the crow’s nest. Otis shook his head and yelled down, “Nothin’ yet.”

  “When they get here, I’ll send a small squad of CGIs to assist in the debarkation and transit from the boat to camp. Once we’re all together, we’ll have a meeting to discuss day-to-day operations and expectations. Any questions?”

  People looked at each other and seemed to be waiting for Benjamin to speak up, which he eventually did.

  “The people on the bus, those you call ZBs—an acronym I’m not fond of, by the way—have chosen me to be their spokesperson.”

  Roper crossed her arms on her chest. “Spokesperson, Ben? Really?”

  Dallas let her fingertips lightly brush Roper’s palm. “While I personally feel that’s divisive, if your people feel you need a spokesperson, go ahead.”

  “It’s not divisive, Miss Dallas, it’s common sense. While ya’ll can come and go as you please, the rest of us have to trust that what you decide is in our best interest as well. We’re the addition to your group, not the center group. We gotta look out for our best interest.”

  “I understand that, Benjamin, as long as you don’t interchange spokesperson with leader. It’s far too early in the game for a pissing contest you can’t win.”

  “Can’t?”

  Dallas and the rest of the CGIs stepped forward in unison. “At the moment, you have the numbers, yes, but the moment the boat arrives, if you choose to engage in a pissing contest, you and your people will not only find yourselves in the minority, you’ll find yourselves on the other side of these fences. That choice will come at a price I don’t think they’ll want to pay.”

  “Now wait just a—”