100 Days in Deadland (part 1 of the Deadland Saga)

Malice (Chapter 29)

MALICE: The Eighth Circle of Hell

Chapter XXIX

“Wake up! Wake up!”

I bolted awake and then grabbed my throbbing head. “Shh,” I ordered Jase as I reached for a bottle of water.

Clutch pulled himself to his feet, and I grimaced at him before taking a long swig. How could he drink three times as much as me yet wake up ready to take on the world?

“What happened?” Clutch asked, stretching his shoulders.

“Captain Masden just called on the radio. Colonel Lendt was killed, and both Dogs have gone missing.”

I got to my feet and stood, in stunned paralysis, as his words cut through my cotton-filled brain. While we’d been drinking and enjoying ourselves, the Dogs had escaped, killed Lendt, and did God only knew what else at the Camp.

We should’ve been there.

Clutch scrambled into his clothes, and I kicked it into gear and hurried as fast I could in a hangover haze. We were loaded into the truck in less than five minutes. Clutch drove while I finished dressing and we all took turns with the Tylenol, food, and water. Twenty-two miles later, I started to feel semi-human again.

When we reached Camp Fox, the gate opened and the guards motioned us through. Clutch sped down the winding roads until we stopped at a familiar brick building. I grabbed my rifle.

We jogged up the steps and through the doors of HQ, which had now become town hall, to find at least half of the Camp’s population milling around. Some looked like they were in shock, others looked downright pissed.

“Tell us what’s going on!” someone shouted.

“We have a traitor!” someone else shouted back.

“String them up!”

The shouting and finger pointing continued. I gave Clutch the look, the one that insinuated we were mice about to step into a mousetrap.

Tack motioned to us from across the crowd, and we weaved toward where he was blocking people from entering the hallway. He looked like he was about to be overrun. “Captain Masden needs every hand on deck. He’s in the Colonel’s office,” he said, moving aside to let us through.

Clutch nodded, and Jase and I followed him down the hall. We stepped inside to find the walls riddled with bullets. Five body bags littered the floor, making dark heaps across the wood.

“Crap,” Jase said breathlessly.

When Tyler saw us, he patted the injured man’s shoulder and headed our way. “Glad you can make it. We’ve got a Charlie Foxtrot on our hands.”

“The two Dogs,” I said.

Tyler nodded tightly. “Likely, since they went missing late last night.”

“How’d they escape?” Clutch asked, the tone inferring he knew they’d escaped all along.

“Someone killed the guard and let them out.” Tyler rubbed his neck. “Damn it, I should’ve known better.”

“Who carries the keys?” Clutch asked, ignoring Tyler’s self-criticism.

“Doesn’t matter,” he replied, shaking his head. “The guard on duty always carries a set. They could’ve gotten the keys off the guard.”

Clutch walked over to one of the five body bags and unzipped it, frowned, then rezipped it.

Tyler rubbed his temples. “Lendt had coffee every morning with the civilian leadership council. These guys knew exactly when and where to hit.”

“What’s the status on the Dogs, Captain?” Clutch asked, all business.

“Unaccounted for,” Tyler replied. “I need every troop out there looking for who did this. I can’t trust the civilians. They’d turn this hunt into a lynch mob.”

“You can count on us,” I said.

 Tyler smiled weakly. “I know. Griz is on point. Go see him at the chow hall for your assigned sectors. You’re relieved.”

He turned and walked off, leaving the three of us standing alone.

“I guess Tyler’s in charge now,” I said quietly.

“C’mon,” Clutch said and he led the way back down the hall and through the agitated crowd, several of whom threw us distrusting glares. When we reached the cafeteria, Griz was standing with Smitty. Both looked exhausted, though Smitty looked more tense than usual.

“Perfect timing,” Griz said. “Jase, you’re with Smitty. He’ll fill you in.”

“Yes, sir,” Jase said and jogged to catch up with the slender, clean-cut soldier heading outside.

“Where do you need us?” Clutch asked before I could.

Griz turned and pointed at a spot on the map laid out across the table. “I’ve broken the Camp into sectors. We’re too short-staffed, so every pair gets two sectors. You guys have sectors thirty-one and thirty-two, but stay together. Whatever you do, don’t split up. Since everyone’s been accounted for, the traitor is still walking around. If you find the Dogs, we need them alive to interrogate them.”

“Understood,” Clutch said. “That it?”

He handed Clutch a radio. “Let’s find those assholes.”

Clutch and I headed out. Sectors thirty-one and thirty-two were on the far edge of the base so we drove there. We silently walked through buildings and examined every shadow, finding nothing. The Dogs should’ve been on their way back to Doyle by now. It made no sense for them to stick around after their job was done.

I smelled a familiar stench and stopped cold. I narrowed my eyes at the shadows near the outer fence. “What’s that?”

Clutch took slow steps closer while I held my rifle at the ready.

I lingered until he got down on a knee and I came closer.

I kicked at the two zeds—one male, one female—tied together. They watched us, their mouths taped shut and their hands cut off. Each zed was cut wide open, with entrails oozing out. The stench was horrible, though they’d been open for long enough for some of the horrendous odor to dissipate. “What the hell is going on?” I asked.

“No clue.” Clutch stood, raised his rifle, and finished the two zeds.

These zeds were connected to Dogs, somehow. “Why would someone order a zed delivery here?” I thought aloud. “And why the hell would someone cut them open?”

Having zeds inside the Camp was dangerous enough, especially if they got free and leaked their infectious goo all over the place.

I took a step back. “Oh, shit.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“The Dogs aren’t done yet. They’re going to spread the infection.”