Dead End II: Cults Rising - Part One |
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Gordon Reed lurched out of bed and gasped for air while he
glanced around to find something familiar in the dark room. Nothing was, and nothing
had been for many days.
As the grip of the nightmare
eased, he recovered his senses and remembered he was in a hotel room in
Washington.
Leaning over to flip on the switch
for the light mounted on the headboard of the bed, he picked up his watch. It
was four minutes past nine PM. His sleep patterns were shot after being passed
from one helicopter to a plane, and then to another helicopter for a ride to
the White House.
Despite the frantic pace that they
were shuttled to the capitol, the actual meeting was anticlimactic. The
president never spoke or acknowledged anything said by Gordon or his former
supervisor, Janice Turner.
The president gave an occasional
nod and exchanged glances with his advisors, who also nodded in turn.
When the president left, it was an
advisor who thanked them, and it was that advisor’s aide who drove them away
from the White House. They had been taken to a hotel and told to wait.
The meeting was two days past, and
Gordon still could not get more than an hour of sleep at a time. His short naps
provided little relief for his fatigue, and his body ached with the need for rest.
Yet constant nightmares kept pulling him into the waking world.
Gordon grabbed the remote for the
TV to watch a few minutes of the news. Several of the same advisors who had
been in the briefing were on the air already.
Every advisor spun the same story,
and flipping between the national stations, he got the feeling that they were
all reading from the same script.
According to the advisors, a
terrorist organization of unknown origins had infected the water supply of the
city with a highly contagious virus. The administration had no choice but to
eradicate the city, and a nuclear warhead was detonated over Dallas five days
after the outbreak occurred.
Gordon shut off the TV and got
dressed before he left his room. He swept his hand over his short brown hair to
sweep it forward, and then he wiped his oily palm on his slacks, noting that he
would need a shower soon.
He took the elevator down to the
main floor to see if the bar was still open. It was and he’d wandered halfway
across the lounge to a table when he noticed Janice sitting at the bar.
She wasn’t looking much better
than him. Staring at her drink, Janice never noticed Gordon approaching her. Her
sour expression made him think twice about joining her, but hers was the only
familiar face in the bar. Indeed, after the destruction of Dallas, she was the
only acquaintance left from his old life as a homicide detective.
Short and stocky, there were
certain qualities to Janice’s round face that had always made Gordon think of a
bulldog. She was attractive when she smiled, but with her face screwed up in a
brooding scowl, the qualities were even more apparent.
Her nose wrinkled and brought the
tip high enough to give her a pug nose. Her eyebrows wrinkled into a knot above
her crinkled pug nose, and the black bags under her brown eyes only enhanced
the similarities. Her round lips bowed in a tight line around her lower teeth,
and she’d jutted her chin forward, which made her natural underbite more
exaggerated.
Her short brunette hair hung in damp
clumps, suggesting that she’d just recently showered. But her blouse and slacks
were still wrinkled and just as dirty as his.
Tapping her shoulder, he pulled
out a stool to sit down beside her. “They spared no expense for the travel and
hotel. It’s a pity they didn’t spring for clean clothes.”
Snorting, Janice nodded. She
leaned over to whisper, “I had to wash my underwear in the sink.”
Gordon smirked. “Nice. I’ll have
to do that tonight.” His expression relaxed into a look of concern. “Are you
having nightmares too?”
Janice shook her head. “No, just
troubled thoughts.”
She glanced up at her reflection
and grimaced at the black circles under her eyes. “I think I’ve slept ten minutes
in the last three days. I couldn’t shut my brain off, so now I’m trying to numb
it enough to get a few hours of sleep.”
Gordon waved for the bartender.
“Yeah, that was my plan too, but I’m hoping to drink enough to cover up my
nightmares.”
He paused as the bartender walked
over. “I’ll have a margarita, and she’ll be having...”
“Another Tom Collins, please,”
Janice said and emptied her glass. “I don’t see your tail.”
“My what?”
“Look up in the reflection. Just
over my left shoulder you’ll find two men in the corner. They would be my tail.
I noticed them earlier tonight while we were having dinner, and they’ve
followed me everywhere.”
“I didn’t notice anyone behind me,”
Gordon remarked. Yet even as he said it, he spotted a pair of men in the hotel
lobby who seemed more interested in him than they did in their own
conversation.
Janice leaned closer. “Try at nine
o’clock.”
Gordon sighed and nodded. “Yes, I
saw them. We should expect it, shouldn’t we? We’re big time celebrities now.” Gordon
signed the bill for the bartender. He sipped his drink and waited until the
bartender had moved away. “If we look around, I’m sure we’ll find other
survivors from the city.”
“No, we won’t. I have been
looking, and we’re the only ones who are coming to see the president,” Janice
frowned at him. “They don’t need us here at all. They could have brought
statements to the president, but we were invited here for a reason.”
“Look boss—”
“Stop that,” Janice cut him off.
“I’m not your boss anymore. Both of us are unemployed.”
“We’re still cops,” Gordon
insisted.
“We may be, but we worked for the city
of Dallas, and the city no longer exists. Thus, you and I are unemployed.”
Janice sighed and took a sip from her drink. “Or you can ignore me. What were
you saying?”
“I was just going to say maybe the
things that happened in Dallas have made you a bit too paranoid. Maybe the
survivors from Dallas were taken to other hotels. Even if we are the only
survivors in Washington, we did have the most direct experience with...” Gordon
looked down at the bar, quieted by a sudden thought. “But the people in the
national guard had the same experience with the zombies, and after the soldiers
debriefed us, we wouldn’t be needed here.”
“Yep, so that means I’m probably not
being paranoid. I do have a theory for why our meeting with the president was
so brief, and for why we’re being followed. The feds wanted to talk to someone,
but it wasn’t us.”
Gordon took a long drink from his
glass. “That makes sense. Frank did make the comment that we would have freaked
out if we did a full background check on him. Maybe the feds already have.”
“Right, and we made that pact,
which means we may have brought this scrutiny on ourselves. So now we’re stuck
here while they wait for us to crack.”
“Maybe we should give them the
rest of what we know and see what happens.”
Janice took a long drink from her
glass, holding the mouthful of cranberry juice and vodka while considered the
idea. Swallowing, she offered a half shrug. “We could just be making more problems
for ourselves. For now, I think we should wait them out.”
“We don’t have time to wait.”
“No, we have nothing but time to wait.”
Janice dipped her head in a subtle gesture toward the men watching Gordon’s
back. “Our tails will make sure of that.”
***
Frank jogged behind the group of six zombies, trying to
keep to the shadows in case one of the undead sentries glanced back. He
crouched behind a car as the group stopped in front of a house.
They stood motionless for several minutes,
and Frank began to feel uneasy. Crossing the street, he rolled under a truck parked
in the driveway. The zombies still had not moved, but if they had a reason for
waiting, he couldn’t see it.
It seemed an eternity passed
before more zombies began showing up in teams of six to take places in front of
the door of each house. Frank saw the legs of the six zombies standing at the
front door of the house to his left, while the house to his right was one of
the few not being covered. Across the street, he saw one of the zombies move
around to the side of the house. The sound of breaking glass filled the air,
but the zombie at the side of the house in front of Frank hadn’t needed to make
such an effort. The window was already open.
At some of the houses, the zombies
were greeted at the front doors by their comrades, while other doors were
opened by panicked humans trying to flee.
The sound of engines drew his
attention toward the street, and two large service vans passed him to park in
the center of the block.
Frank rolled out to the right side
of the truck and got to his feet. He went to draw a grenade from his harness
when he heard a girl make an angry shriek.
Through the jumble of zombies
crowding the door of the house across the street, Frank saw little more than a
bare heel which connected with a zombie’s chin and spun its head so rapidly
that its neck snapped.
Frank cast a sideways glance at
the vans, noting how the other zombies stayed focused on collecting the humans
from the houses they were assigned to. The four zombies standing guard by the
vans remained in place. Frank expected the undead sentries to come running at
him or the girl, but the motionless zombies never looked in their direction.
Crossing the street, Frank drew a
wide-bladed bowie knife and crept across the small front lawn.
Another zombie fell back with its
head turned completely around, and by then his curiosity was piqued.
Thinking to help her, he took a
half step before the zombie jolted and stumbled back. An upturned palm broke
the zombie’s jaw, and a quarter of a second later, another blurring kick toppled
its head back over to land between its shoulder blades.
Frank stepped up behind a zombie
and plunged his knife through the back of its neck, dropping it and looking up
at the last zombie standing outside the door. It turned to look at him before
the girl’s slender arm wrapped over its neck. Bending the zombie over to arch
its back, the girl jerked her arm up and cracked its neck.
Before Frank could open his mouth
to speak, she dropped the body and turned to run back into the house. Following
after her, he spotted the first zombie to enter the house laying in the middle
of the living room floor with a fire poker buried in the back of its neck. He
had no sooner registered it when the girl dashed past him.
Frank spun and took off after her,
catching up within a few steps as she made a straight line for the vans. He saw
a cluster of zombies packed in together with elderly people and children in the
back of the vans before the guards shut the doors and the vans sped off.
The zombies dragged away their
victims, but many still were left empty-handed. Those which were began to focus
their attention on Frank and the girl.
Reaching back to draw a much
longer sword off the back of his harness, Frank passed the knife to the girl
and pointed up the street. “My car is parked that way.”
Instead of heeding his suggestion
she ran back toward her house.
Before she was back inside, Frank
turned his attention to a pair of zombies who were almost on top of him. Using
a side kick to drop one zombie to the ground, he swung the sword in a low arc to
chop the legs out from under the second zombie. It hit the ground on it stomach
and made an effort to raise itself up on its arms before Frank dropped the
sword down through the back of its neck. Pivoting on his heel, Frank lashed out
his leg to catch the other zombie in the side of its head with the point of his
steel toe boot as it was starting to get its knees. Though the kick would have
been fatal to a normal human, the zombie was merely thrown into a short roll
before it began moving to get up again.
Turning the sword grip, Frank used
an overhand chop to sever its head.
He was kicking the body onto its
side when he was slammed from behind.
Frank looked back as the massive
zombie leapt to land on him, and he rolled left to get out of the way. It was
turning to attack him again, and he got to his knees, using an awkward lunge to
push his sword through the neck of the zombie. Gripping the handle with both
hands, he yanked the sword to sever the spinal column.
When he stood up, he found eight more
zombies had moved to surround him. He tried to force two back with a wide swipe
of his sword, but they ignored having their hands removed and closed their bleeding
limbs around him. Frank shouldered his way past them and spun to decapitate a
zombie.
He was tackled to the ground from
behind, and the sword was stripped from his hand. The zombie tossed it away
before a before the group dropped down to pin him.
Getting desperate, Frank tried to
work his arm under his lower back to pull a grenade from his harness. He was
ready to settle for catching hold of a pin, but the zombies pulled his arms to
his side, piling down on him to keep him from moving.
They began to pick him up when one
of the zombies dropped his leg. Frank curled it up to his chest and lashed out
a kick to free his other leg. He was getting his feet under him when the head
of the zombie to his left fell off.
White blood sprayed into his face
and he dropped his head to avoid getting any of the cold fluid in his eyes or
mouth. His arms were released, and while he wiped his face, he heard several
more bodies hitting the ground.
Even knowing what to expect Frank could
not suppress a gasp when he opened his eyes.
The girl panted while she stood
over a piles of bodies less than a yard away from Frank. Leaned over with her
palms pressed into her thighs, she watched a man run back to his house.
She was still dressed in the night
shirt, but she had pulled on a pair of black jeans and a pair of canvas running
shoes.
What caused Frank to gasp was the
number of decapitated bodies around her. In the time it had taken him to
recover from being blinded, she had killed fourteen zombies.
She turned to face him and used
her forearm to wipe the white blood of the zombies away from her freckled cheek.
Her expression fell into anguish as
she looked down at the ground. “He’s gone.”
“Who?”
“My brother, Jody.”
Frank nodded and waved for her to
follow him. “We can try to go after the vans in my car, but we need to hurry.”
The girl gave a small nod as she jogged
to catch up with him.
“I’m Frank Kemp.”
“Robin Thomas,” she said,
remaining quiet until they were in the car.
She panted as she turned to study
the weapon studded harness over Frank’s black outfit. “So what are you supposed
to be, some kind of superhero?”
“Yes, I am, or I was.” Frank waved
his hand up and between the seats, gesturing behind the car. “I was just about
to ask you the same thing.”
“I’m not a superhero,” Robin said.
“Are you sure? I’ve been tracking
these zombies for a while now, and I’ve never seen anyone tear through them the
way you did.”
Robin shrugged, moving her head
around to search for the vans. “Everyone has a hobby.” She ignored Frank’s
snort. “Are they really zombies? It doesn’t seem like a fitting term for them.”
“It’s the closest term I know, so
that’s what I call them.” Frank glanced over at Robin. “If you wanted to go
after your brother, why did you run back inside the house?”
“I was trying to call the police,
but I got a busy signal. I thought that was supposed to be impossible. I called
911, and they were busy. By then, I noticed that you hadn’t followed me.”
“Right, and then you took your
time to get dressed,” Frank said and waved his hand at her irritated glare.
“Never mind, I appreciate the rescue. How did you know to break their necks?”
“They tried to take us last night.
I couldn’t make them stay down any other way.”
“You didn’t call the police?”
“Yes, and they removed the bodies.
But with the other people missing from the block, I think we were labeled as a
lower priority.” Robin’s head spun around as she spotted a zombie sentry coming
out of a house. “Where did these things come from? I’ve never seen anything
like them.”
“A lot of these zombies are coming
from Dallas. I know you’ve probably heard that there was a virus, but the
government isn’t releasing the real story for fear of creating mass hysteria.”
“Oh, right, like this is much
better?”
Frank waved a hand at her. “Calm
down. I agree with you, so that’s why I snuck away from my Army escorts and
came here.”
“Why? You can’t hope to fight all
of these zombies.”
“I’m not trying to. There’s a
single leader who commands all of these zombies, and I’m trying to find him. He
struck Dallas, and in four days, he wiped most of the city’s population out. To
stop that from happening here, we have to follow the zombie until they lead us
back to the leader. If we can kill him, we can end the whole invasion.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, but it’s all we’ve got.” Frank
spotted the vans and pointed. “There they are.”
“So speed up.”
“We’d be better served to follow
them and see where they go. If they took your little brother, they probably
took the other...”
“What’s wrong?”
“I was just thinking about the
zombies in Dallas, but I don’t recall seeing any zombie babies, or even any
children or teens.”
“What about the elderly?”
Frank shook his head. “No, and now
that I think about it, I’ve only seen healthy adults. But they had both vans
loaded up with the young and old.”
“If they only use the adults, what
are they doing with everyone else?”
“That’s why we need to follow
them, so we can find out what’s going on.”
***
Gordon staggered into the elevator, rubbing his eyes with
the back of his hand while he leaned against the wall. The elevator stopped,
and he looked at the doors opening, nodding to Janice as she and her escort
stepped inside.
“Still drunk?” he asked.
“Yes.” Janice rested on the wall
and closed her eyes. “At least I’ve had close to four hours of sleep to work
with, so it’s not so bad.” She turned her head to stare at her escort. “Where
are we headed now?”
“Back to the White House, ma’am.”
“What for?”
“I’m not able to say, ma’am. I
just handle the deliveries.”
The ride through the sleeping city
was eerily quiet, but neither Janice nor Gordon tried to guess at what was
happening. They exchange worried glances as they were led through a series of
corridors and into a room where the president and vice president both waited
with a group of advisors.
President Richard Crane rose from
his recliner and offered his hand first to Gordon, and then to Janice. In spite
of his advanced age, he still filled out his custom-tailored white dress shirt.
He was only a few inches shorter than Gordon’s height of six-foot-five, and
aside from a pudgy midsection, he was still in good shape.
He was in “work mode,” his shirt
collar unbuttoned while his sleeves were rolled to the middle of his forearms. A
pair of red half-frame reading glasses hung low on the bridge of his wide nose,
and his bushy white hair jutted up like a rooster’s comb.
The president ran a hand over his
hair as he said, “Thank you for coming in again.” He waved for them to sit on
the couch, his frown tightening before he spoke. “First, let me apologize for
being so rushed with you during our last meeting. I’ve been running from one
meeting to the next for the last two days while we tried to sort out whether
the zombies’ leader survived.”
“He did,” Gordon said.
“Yes. Our confirmation came yesterday
when Houston logged three hundred missing persons reports, all on the west side
of town. We’ve sent five covert teams to locate the leader and eliminate them.
We lost three teams yesterday just before sunset.”
“I’m sorry, but why are we here?”
Janice asked.
The president nodded to an aide,
who handed her a photo. “You recognize this man, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
President Crane nodded. “Your
claims that you’d rescued him on the fourth night of the invasion has a major flaw.
Detective Reed requested a background check on Frank, which suggested he was in
contact with both of you well before the fourth night of the invasion.”
“It was Frank you wanted to see,
not the two of us.” Gordon watched the president nod before he started
detailing Frank’s confession and his decision to ask for the vigilante’s help
in locating the leader.
The president seemed as passive as
he had on their previous meeting, but instead of leaving when Gordon finished
talking, he sat back and looked down in thought.
Finally, Gordon’s curiosity over
came his common sense. “Sir, if I may ask, who is Frank, really?”
“On the surface, he seems like a
normal individual. If you track him in a vacuum, you’d assume he was a quiet
kind of guy who worked the night shift. However, his random movements also
coincide with fluctuations of certain crimes. Violent crimes like rapes and
murders went down, but the number of missing persons reports climbed.
“By itself, the trend wouldn’t be
important, but the bulk of the missing persons reports were made up of people
with very long criminal records. It wasn’t an effect that covered all of a city
either. The rise in reports was usually contained to city sectors which had
been determined as high risk areas before Frank’s arrival.”
“So he only confessed to the
criminals he killed in Dallas.”
“Obviously we can’t apply every
missing criminal to him, but even at a conservative guess, Frank has killed
well over four hundred people in the last six years. He would have been public
enemy number one if we’d known he existed.”
“What are you going to do about
him now?”
“Nothing.”
Gordon sat up on the couch. “I’m
sorry?”
The president nodded to his
advisor again, who crossed the room to hand Gordon and Janice separate file
folders.
Before they could open the
folders, President Crane said, “Frank was spotted in Houston by one of our
teams three hours ago. He’s following a group of zombies, and if our men follow
him, they have a good chance of finding the leader.”
“Then what will happen?”
“We will eliminate the leader. As
for Frank, we’ll need to persuade him to look into a different line of work
with us.” The president stood up and waved toward an aide. “Mitch can get you
clean clothes and take you back to the hotel. Now, if you’ll excuse—”
“Sir, with all due respect, I have
one last question,” Janice said “Are we free to leave yet, or will we still
need escorts everywhere we go?”
“You understand nothing we’ve
discussed is to be made public?”
Janice nodded quickly. “Yes, of
course.”
The president glanced at Gordon, who also nodded. “Then you’re free to go.” |
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