Rotter World (8 page)

Chapter Eleven

Everyone worked around the clock during the next twenty-four hours. Hodges’ motor pool crew put in a double shift, preparing the vehicles to make certain they were road worthy and loading them with supplies. Robson, Daytona, Whitehouse, Mad Dog, and Thompson studied the maps and satellite photos of their proposed route until they practically memorized every mile of the journey. Natalie’s Angels spent most of the day filling ten-round magazines with 8mm ammunition for their Mausers. Even though Paul had ordered those going on the mission to get some sleep, no one did. Everyone was apprehensive about what they would find out there. The few who tried just lay on their cots staring at the ceilings, unable to doze off, until frustration got the better of them and they went back to prepping for the trip.

Paul held the final briefing just after dinner around an easel that had been set up in the now-empty dining hall. All of those who would go on the mission were in attendance. Robson counted everyone as they wandered in and took a seat. Between his raiding party, the Angels, Compton’s team, and the drivers and gunners, twenty-nine people were assembled. They comprised over half the camp, and everyone who could expertly handle a weapon. He frowned as the full extent of the foolishness of Paul’s plan began to sink in. It was one thing to send out the raiding party and the Angels on a quick supply run to Kittery. Paul’s plan would leave the camp defenseless for over a week while placing most of its key personnel in harm’s way. The more he thought about it, the more dangerous this entire scheme sounded.

Paul waited impatiently for the last stragglers to show up, looking at his watch every few seconds as if that would speed them along. Mad Dog arrived last, entering the dining hall without an apology for being late and taking his usual seat by the window away from the others. Paul stood and cleared his throat to get their attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll only take a few minutes of your time because I know you have to prepare for departure. I just want to go over the final arrangements for the convoy and see if there were any last minute questions.

“We have four vehicles that will be heading out to Site R. Daytona will drive the gun truck with Caylee riding shotgun in back. Whitehouse will drive the school bus, which will carry the Angels and most of the raiding party. Robson will drive the armored car and will take Compton and Thompson as passengers.”

“Wouldn’t it give us better protection if we left the armored car behind and took along the second gun truck?” asked O’Bannon.

“It would. But I chose the armored car to protect the vaccine so we don’t have a repeat of what happened at the Navy yard.” Paul spoke louder so Mad Dog could hear. “Mad Dog will drive the Ryder. Elena’s people will rest in the back during the day. At night they’ll take over the driving so the rest of you can get some sleep. Food and ammo will be divided among the four vehicles. Daytona will carry most of the fuel in the dumpster bed, enough to keep all four vehicles fueled for seven hundred miles. Sorry about that, Caylee.”

The young woman shrugged.

Natalie lifted her hand and caught Paul’s attention. “What do you mean seven hundred miles? I looked at a map this morning, and Site R is only five hundred miles from here.”

“It is, as the crow flies. I’ll let Windows explain.”

Paul motioned to a young girl in the front row in her early twenties with a short-cut blonde bob and librarian-style glasses. She stood up and crossed over to the easel, unfolding an old road map of the eastern seaboard. Flattening it out against the easel’s surface, she anchored it in place with pushpins. Robson noted a yellow highlighted line running from the coast of Maine west through New England and New York, then turning south into Pennsylvania. Windows placed a folder filled with paper in the chalk tray. When she turned to face the group, a huge smile brightened her face.

“I spent the day checking out satellite images and talking to the survivors of Dr. Compton’s party.” Windows glanced over at Compton. “You chose one of the most infected routes to get here. It’s a wonder any of you made it as far as you did. I compared the satellite photos off the Internet against the maps, and I’ve come up with a route that should get you down to Pennsylvania while avoiding most major highways and population centers.”

“You still have Internet access?” asked Thompson.

Windows shook her head enough for the blonde strands to slap across her cheeks. “The ‘Net crashed months ago. Before it did, we set up a bank of computers and downloaded everything that could be of use. Medical journals, how-to books, road maps, commercial satellite photos. We kept updating these photos until the ‘Net finally went off line. By that time the world had pretty much fallen apart, so these are up to date.”

Windows handed the colonel a manila folder with dozens of printed satellite photos showing various scenes of the proposed route to Site R. He thumbed through the photos as Windows went back to the map and referred to the highlighted route.

“A straight run to Site R like your convoy took will go right through or near every major population center on the way. I’ve picked a route that bypasses most of that, but it adds another two hundred miles to your trip. I briefed all the drivers on the routes earlier tonight so they know what to expect.”

When Windows finished she looked over at Paul. He nodded his approval and motioned for her to sit down, then continued the briefing.

“Once you leave here, Robson is in command until the convoy reaches Site R. Dravko and Natalie will be his back-ups, in that order. Upon arrival at the facility, Compton will be in charge of all decisions related to the vaccine, and Thompson will be in charge of security. Once you leave Site R to return here, command reverts back to Robson. Anything else?”

Robson suppressed a wry smile. He had a thousand questions about this mission. They all did. Most of them knew they would never get an answer, or would be fed some bullshit about being for the good of what little mankind remained, so the questions went unasked.

“Yeah,” said Thompson pointing to Mad Dog. “I want him removed from the raiding party.”

Mad Dog started to rise from his seat, his glare fixed on Thompson. Paul motioned for Mad Dog to sit. He hesitated, uncertain whether to obey Paul or his own instincts. Only when Robson turned to him and mouthed the word “sit” did Mad Dog comply.

Paul turned his attention back to Thompson. “Why do you want to leave Mad Dog behind?”

“He’s a coward and a deserter.”

“Fuck you, asshole,” screamed Mad Dog as he jumped out of his chair again.

Thompson stood up and faced him from across the dining hall. “When we went into lockdown you abandoned the facility.”

“Is that true?” Robson asked.

Mad Dog stared at Robson, his mouth slightly agape. “Come on, man. You know me fuckin’ better than that. I left to get… something. When I got back, they’d already sealed up the facility and I couldn’t get back in. I had no choice but to set out on my own.”

Thompson refused to back down. “You were warned along with the others that maintaining the integrity of the facility was the primary concern. You left the facility and got locked out. That’s not my problem. But bringing you along is. I won’t risk the success of this mission on someone who’s unreliable.”

Mad Dog looked over at Robson, an uncharacteristic tone of desperation in his voice. “You know this is fuckin’ bullshit, man. I’ve never let you or the others down. You can’t leave me behind.”

Robson had never seen Mad Dog like this, nor did he have any idea why Mad Dog was so adamant about going. Not that it mattered, because it would not alter his decision. He looked alternately between Paul and Thompson. “Mad Dog is one of the best rotter fighters I have. He’s going.”

Mad Dog responded with a barely perceptible nod and mouthed the word “Thanks.”

Thompson shook his head. “I’m responsible for security at Site R, and I refuse to allow him on this mission.”

Robson did not need this machismo bullshit and decided to put an end to it. “If I don’t have control over my team, then I’ll sit out this raid.”

“Fine with me,” said Thompson. “Who’s second in command?”

Dravko raised his hand. His voice dripped with contempt. “I am. Or do you have a problem with that?”

Tibor leaned closer to Thompson and offered the colonel an exaggerated smile, enough to expose his fangs.

“Enough!” bellowed Paul. “All of you. These arrangements were already worked out and are not open for discussion. Colonel, if you have a problem with Robson or the people under his command, I suggest you take this up with Dr. Compton.”

Thompson bristled at the dressing down, but said nothing.

“Alright. If there’s nothing else, you’re all dismissed.”

Everyone stood and filtered out of the dining hall, most trying to escape the tension-filled room as quickly as possible. Thompson stuck around just long enough to flash withering glances at Robson, Mad Dog, and Paul before leaving, pushing through the others as he made his way to the exit. Only Robson and Paul stayed behind, watching the others until the last one had departed.

“Well,” said Paul with a heavy sigh. “That didn’t go as I had planned.”

“Do you trust these guys?”

“Actually, I do.” Paul stepped over to the easel and pulled down the map. “I spent several hours talking with Compton. He’s created a vaccine for the Zombie Virus, and it’s sitting at Site R waiting for us. Compton’s convinced that once we get the vaccine to the government-in-exile, we’ll be able to turn this whole situation around, and I believe him.”

“What about Thompson?”

Paul folded the map and placed it into the folder with the satellite photos. “I’ve dealt with his kind before. He’s opinionated as hell, but he’ll do whatever Dr. Compton tells him to. The doctor assured me he’ll keep Thompson on a short leash.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. That’s why I’m in charge.” Paul smiled and headed for the exit, with Robson close behind. “Is everything ready to roll?”

“Hodges is finishing checking out the vehicles. Once he’s done, we’ll be good to go.”

“Great.” Paul looked at his watch. “You still have a few hours. Go get yourself some sleep. You have several long days ahead of you.”

Chapter Twelve

As the coven exited the blockhouse and made their way down the stairs, Elena raced after them.

“Tatyana, wait up.”

The young vampire stopped. The others each quickly glanced over their shoulder before continuing on, all except Dravko who stood by ten feet away.

Elena slowed as she approached Tatyana. Placing her arm around the young vampire’s shoulder, Elena gently directed her down the stairs and away from the stream of people. Dravko followed at a discreet distance.

“I need to talk to you for a minute,” said Elena.

“About what?”

“I don’t want you to going with the others.”

Tatyana became defensive. “Why?”

“I don’t think you’re up to it.”

“I feel fine.”

“You’re not ready psychologically.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It takes decades for a newly-sired vampire to become accustomed to their abilities. You’ve not had enough time to grow familiar with them yet, and I can’t send you into battle like that. It’s too dangerous.”

“How can you say that?” Tatyana shrugged off Elena’s arm. She took a step away and turned to face the master. “I fought alongside you and the rest of the coven all the way from New York. No one had to hold my hand or look out for me, and no one has ever questioned my fighting skills. So why the sudden concern?”

“I’m not questioning your fighting skills. I’m questioning your judgment.”

Tatyana clenched her hands together. “This isn’t about me. It’s about O’Bannon.”

“Your relationship with O’Bannon is one of the things that calls your judgment into question.” Elena feared she was losing control of the discussion. “He’s not right for you.”

“Because he’s human?”

“Because he mistreats you.”

“Well, that’s none of your business.” Tatyana started to walk away.

Elena raced after Tatyana, grabbed her by the arm, and spun the young vampire around to face her. “As the mistress of the coven, it is my business.”

“Really? And did you have this same conversation with Sultanic after he sired me?”

Elena could not respond because Tatyana was right. She never took the others to task for their sexual transgressions as long as their actions did not endanger the coven. Maybe it was her natural prejudice against humans, or perhaps some long-dormant maternal instinct, that caused her to react so differently with Tatyana.

Tatyana sensed Elena’s faltering. “I know you’re only concerned about my well-being, but I’ll be fine. What type of vampire would I be if I let the others go off and fight without me?”

“I’m sorry. My mind is made up.”

Tatyana looked to Dravko. “Do you agree with Elena?”

Dravko moved forward to join the women. Elena could tell by the hesitation in his response that he did not agree with her. “It’s ultimately the Mistress’ decision, but given what we’re likely to face out there, I want as many of us as possible on the team.”

With Dravko having turned against her, Elena gave in to the inevitable. She bowed her head, avoiding the stares from both Tatyana and Dravko. “You can go.”

Tatyana responded like a teenager being told she could go on her first date. Rushing forward, she hugged Elena. “Thank you. I promise I won’t let you down.”

As Tatyana ran off to prepare for the mission, Elena turned to Dravko. Her voice contained no anger or recrimination, only resignation. “Now it’s official. I’ve lost all control over the coven.”

“No you haven’t.”

“There was a time when no vampire would dare challenge my authority, especially you.” Elena headed back to her container.

Dravko followed. “I’m not challenging your authority. I’m merely offering my guidance and counsel.”

“Apparently I need it.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, just as you were being too hard on Tatyana.” Dravko chuckled. “You and Tatyana have a lot in common.”

“How so?”

“You’re both trying to grow accustomed to your new circumstances. Tatyana with her vampirism, and you with leading the last coven while living amongst humans.”

Elena lowered her head and smiled so Dravko could not see her. She was fortunate to have him as her deputy, and knew they would never have gotten this far without him. “Just promise me you’ll bring the coven back safely.”

“No need to worry. There’s nothing we’ll run into out there that we can’t handle.”

* * *

Thompson exited the blockhouse a minute after the vampires. He watched Elena race after the young female vampire and lead her away from the structure. Stepping to the corner of the landing, he observed the exchange between them. Although he could not hear what they were saying, their actions were visible even in the dark. Thompson assumed they were arguing about something, though he could not hear about what. Eventually the exchange ended, and the young vampire hugged the leader before running off. Like she was happy about something. Like she was a fucking human.

Thompson averted his gaze. This place disgusted him. It seemed as if everyone here had lost their sanity. They had one of the few ideal locations to sit out the zombie apocalypse, and then fucked it up with their asinine security procedures. He had checked their outer perimeter earlier in the day and could not believe how weak it was. With the exception of the reinforced gate blocking the driveway, the perimeter defense consisted of nothing more than a few strands of barbed wire strung through the woods. If a rotter horde converged on the camp, the barbed wire fence would not last more than a few hours at most. And while the fort wall would keep out the living dead indefinitely, it would also trap everyone inside with no way to escape. No one had even thought to tie up boats at the base of the cliff in case rotters overran the camp and they had to evacuate in a hurry.

Then there were their amateurish attempts at security, with cops pretending to be soldiers and girls playing at war. And if all that was not enough, he had to contend with this ungodly alliance the camp had made with the bloodsuckers. Shit, a first year ROTC student knew enough not to bring the enemy into your camp if you wanted to live. These people did not have a fucking clue about what it was like to be in the military, to be professionally trained, to face real combat. How any of them had survived this long was a miracle, one that Thompson felt certain had more to do with sheer luck rather than skill. During his career, he had been in enough units with poor leadership to know that eventually luck ran out, and when it did the end result was disaster.

Thompson’s thoughts wandered to his son, Michael, somewhere in the Middle East. He had been stationed in Iraq when the outbreak occurred. His unit had been cut off when rotters overran Iran, Turkey, and the densely populated Mediterranean coast. Those coalition and Iraqi forces not already turned had retreated south through the deserts of Saudi Arabia, crossed the Red Sea into Egypt, and joined the defensive perimeter trying to contain the rotters from spilling out of the Levant into Africa. At least that was where Michael had been the last time they had talked five months ago. Worldwide communications had fallen apart shortly after that. For all Thompson knew, his son still fought a retreating action to protect Africa, or was now one of the rotters spreading into the Dark Continent.

The entire situation infuriated Thompson. His son was highly trained and well equipped, yet by now he was either already one of the rotters or living on borrowed time. Meanwhile, the idiots here managed to survive in spite of themselves. Even worse, they coddled the creatures that had brought this onto mankind, and would eventually get his son killed. He wanted to get as far away from these people as possible, and would have already set out on his own if he did not have an obligation to keep Compton alive. He had reached the end of his patience. Once the colonel ensured that the vaccine got to the government-in-exile in Omaha, he would request a transfer to a combat unit to get some payback on the rotters for what they did to Michael. If he lived that long.

“Is everything all right, Colonel?”

Thompson glanced over to see Compton standing beside him. He had been so consumed by his own thoughts he had not even heard the doctor approach.
Shit
, he chastised himself. Screw up like that in the field and you’ll become dinner for the living dead.

“We’re all ready to go, doctor.”

“Good to hear. But that’s not what I asked.”

At first Thompson wanted to keep quiet, but that would not work since Compton knew that he was upset. “To tell you the truth, I’ve got some bad vibes about going back to Site R.”

“Because Mad Dog’s part of the team?”

“I can handle that little coward. I just don’t like bringing the bloodsuckers with us.”

Compton rested his forearms on the railing. “They’re the least of my worries right now.”

“You’re not afraid they’ll turn on us while on the road?”

“They need us to get to Site R alive as much as we need them.”

For a moment, Thompson was taken aback. “It sounds like you want the bloodsuckers along.”

“Actually, I don’t mind. Paul may be an idiot about a lot of things, but he’s right about the bloodsuckers greatly increasing the fighting strength of his group. Having them along improves our chances of success.” Compton pushed himself off the railing, turned around, and leaned back against it. He glanced around to make certain no one was in earshot, and then spoke softly so only the colonel could hear. “And I like the idea of knowing where they are at all times.”

Thompson grinned. “You mean keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“Something like that. Besides, bringing the bloodsuckers along with us makes it that much easier to finally deal with them once we reach Site R.”