Carrion (The Bren Watts Diaries #1)

Chapter 94

Ten minutes Earlier...

We arrived a couple of blocks away from the fence where Jun determined—and vouched by Charlie—it was the weakest. I parked the vehicle by the curb, got out, took a small trek toward an embankment, and found the chain-linked fence right above a one-level strip of small businesses, laundromats, cheap pizzas, electronics, bodegas, and liquor store. They didn't patrol this particular section due to the buildings acting as a moat for the embankment. Sure, they made an effort to block the narrow alleys, but they were easy to climb over, and we found a simple way through after a minute of prodding the barrier. Along the way, we took care of two vectors that wandered too close for our comfort.

We began our climb up the steep slope.

"Turn off your flashlights," Peter whispered when we approached the fence. We all did as he said. I must admit it also made my blood boil as my adrenaline spiked into overdrive.

The buildings illuminated a little of what was ahead of us up the embankment, albeit soft and lusterless. Though, I could still make out the parking lot, the large army temper tents and pavilions, and the shadowy figures of people scurrying in and out to all directions. Seeing them only made me impatient to get in there and find the others. It irked me that we never bothered to acquire a blueprint (Logan did not find any from the ones he looted from the high school), except for Jun's rough sketches, pictures, and descriptions of the exterior and Charlie's recollection of the interior, both of which was susceptible to human error: a forgotten corridor there, an extra room here, a missed corner then, a forgotten patrol over here, and so on.

We reached the fence at last. Logan took out the bolt cutters from his backpack, then picked up a fallen branch near his feet and threw it on the wall, waited for a heartbeat. It wasn't live.

"We don't have an electric fence, you know," Charlie said, amused.

"Eh. Sounds dumb not to," Logan replied.

"Do you want this to be any harder or not?"

"No?" Logan started snipping through the wires. "I was just stating the obvious, man."

"Hurry up. We don't have time for this," I said.

I was also curious why the Alphas had not bothered to electrify their fences. Either they did not have the resources to do it, or they were too arrogant to care. Then again, I noticed that they used too many vehicles, eating up their gasoline supply. Coupled with how they're maintaining an effort to run this place—all the buildings' utilities fully operational—their generators would be eating in the same supply, too. The electric fence encompassed a rather large perimeter, and if added, their supplies would dwindle out quickly.

I reckoned they were confident (or confident) enough to defend their base without resorting to electrifying their barriers. At that moment, I didn't know whether that should worry me.

It took Logan two minutes to cut a wide entry, where we could bend and roll the rest over our heads as someone crawled underneath. I went in first when the CB radio suddenly crackled to life. We all froze to listen.

"Attention, all red and green units, report to the Northwest Gate. This is a level five threat. Multiple infected hostiles were spotted two miles from the perimeter. Blue units evacuate the civs. Switch to channel four, seven, and eight per your respective units for further orders. We are under tight lockdown. I repeat, this is a level five threat. Be armed and ready."

A different voice joined. "What in the hell? We can't do a lockdown! What about the others? Some of our boys are still out there."

"Unit eighteen and nineteen are engaged with the hostiles and are actively trying to lead them away from the base. We cannot let them stumble on our doorstep."