Deadlocked 7 (9 page)

Hero looked over to the old captain as he stood in the doorway, a silhouette except for the red tip of his cigar. “You ready?” asked Hero.

Reagan walked into the room and put his hand on Laura’s shoulder. “All set. The van’s loaded, and the entrances to the complex are wired up. If someone tries to get in, you’ll know it, Laura. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah,” said Laura. “Except that my girls and I might be left to fend for ourselves after you four go out and get yourselves killed.”

“I’ve known you long enough to know you’d do just fine without us,” said Reagan.

“Why?” asked Laura. “Why do you have to do this? Why does it have to
be you four that fight back?”

Reagan took a long puff of his cigar and then let the smoke drift away from his lips as he spoke, “Because no one else will, darling.”

“You’re risking our lives too,” said Laura. “My girls and I need you guys.”

Reagan flicked his cigar and a hunk of ash fell to the carpet. “Laura, I know this seems like a pointless fight. I know it seems like there’s no way we can fight back against the people responsible for this disease. And you’d be right to say we should cower, and be happy just surviving. I don’t disagree with you about that. We’d all have a much better chance of living if we just disappeared and tried living in the wreckage of what used to be our homes. The problem is, I just can’t do that. Every time I see a building falling to ruin, or a broken down car on the side of the road, or a school with no one in it, I’ll be thinking about the way things used to be. I can’t live that way without trying to do something about it. Even if I can’t win, I’m just the type of guy that has to try and fight. That’s all there is to it.”

“But you’ve got to see how stupid that is,” said Laura. “You’re risking everything on a fight you can’t win.”

Reagan grimaced. “Can’t win
? Don’t count us out too quickly.”

“I need you guys.” Laura seemed desperate and on the brink of tears. It was late, and her daughters were asleep in an apartment across the hall. She was in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, with her hair tied back in a ponytail, looking the part of a domestic housewife
caught in the middle of a long day of cleaning. “You’re the only family my girls and I have left now. I don’t know what we’d do if something happened to you.”

The four men were quiet, almost ashamed. “Come here, kid,” said Reagan as he took Laura’s hand. She stood
up beside him and he took the cigar out of his mouth as he brought her closer. “Nothing’s going to happen to us. We’re just going to go let these fuckers know that the world’s not going to sit back and let them get away with this. We’ll blow up a few train tracks, pop a few tires, and just be a pain in their ass for a bit. Then we’ll come back and get you and the girls and take off. Okay?”

“We need you,” said Laura.

“We’ll be back, Laura. I promise.”

“You’d fucking better be.”

Reagan clasped the back of her neck and then kissed her forehead. He pointed at the guys and then waved them on. “Come on, boys. Let’s go start a war.”

*   *   *

August 24
th
, 20 years after the apocalypse

Hero has captured Beatrice Dell, one of the members of The Electorate.

“
Lady, you’ve got some explaining to do.” Hero pointed at the couch. “Sit your ass down.”

Beatrice was ashen, just now realizing the trouble she might be in. Her hand was over her heart and she looked dumbfounded by how rude the black man was being.
Then she started to fan her face as she took on a dismissive tone. “Well, Levon, I take it you’re one of Jerald’s men. Is that right? I can tell you, mister, you have no idea what sort of trouble you’re getting yourself in here. Do you know who I am?”

“I told you to sit down.”

She didn’t. “Whatever Jerald has told you, I can guarantee it’s not the entire truth.” Beatrice walked to the kitchen of the cabin and started to look through the cupboards. “Do you have tea here?”

“Damn it,” said Hero. “I told you to sit your ass on the couch.”

“Save the bravado, boy.”

“Boy?” Hero reacted as if it were an affront. “
If there’s just one real man left on Earth, you’re looking at him, lady.”

“You can puff your chest all you like, but I know you’re not going to hurt me.” She found the cabinet with tea in it, boxes wrapped in cellophane that she started to rummage through. “Jerald’s a lot of things, but he’s not stupid.”

“No, but I’m starting to think you are.” Hero pointed his pistol at her to make a point.

She smirked and rolled her eyes, then stuck her fingernail into the wrapper of the tea box to slit it open. “I forgot how tough your type likes to act. If there’s one thing I don’t miss about the old days, it’s dealing with men like you.” She took a tea bag out of the box and let it drape by the string as she smirked at Hero. “You think that gun makes you powerful, but you don’t scare me.
I’m too important to you and your blustering, braggadocios leader.”

“Bitch…” Hero was past frustrated, and pointed the gun at the cabinet with the boxes of tea. He fired twice, bursting various boxes into a mess of wrappers and loose tea. Then he pointed at the kettle on the stove and shot it, causing it to fly off the counter and bounce on the floor.

Beatrice yelped, dropped the tea bag, and held her hands over her mouth. She seemed to shrink as she tightened her elbows to her breasts and bent her knees. A simple silver bracelet jangled on her wrist as she cowered.

“Do I have your fucking attention now?”

“What are you doing, you idiot?” She still slunk away from him.

“I’m not one of Jerald’s men. I don’t belong to anyone, no matter what impression you got
from my black ass skin. For you, I’m the single scariest mother fucker on the planet right now. Understood? Can I get some respect now?”

“Who are you?”

Hero groaned in frustration. “I’m asking the questions, or do I need to kill some more Earl Grey to prove it? Now get over there and sit on the fucking couch, you pain in the ass.”

“Okay, okay,” said Beatrice. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“I make a living of that.” Hero shook his head and laughed as she walked past him, her arms over her face as she went as if he was threatening to punch her.

Beatrice sat on the plush leather couch and crossed her legs, still acting like a proper lady even as a brute pointed a gun at her.
She huffed, straightened her slacks, and then took a breath to steady herself. “Have at it then, Mister Levon. Ask away. But first, you must tell me just who the hell you are.”

“Oh, must I?” Hero mocked her British accent.

“I implore you,” she matched his sarcastic tone.

“I’m a member of the High Rollers.”

Beatrice sat forward, intrigued and eager to learn more. “Reagan’s group? Are you serious?”

“Yeah, how do you know about the old man?”

“Reagan?”

“Yeah, what the fuck? Everyone seems to know about him. What’s with that?”

She paused, and Hero wasn’t sure if she was trying to think of what to say, or what not to say. “A lot of people have been interested in finding your group.”

“I thought that was because you
assumed one of us was immune. How does Reagan fit into it?”

“He was examined by a group of scientists after the apocalypse, and it turned out his immune system had developed antibodies to the virus. He had been,” she looked down and paused, but then coughed and continued, “exposed to a version of the cure, and it was thought that the exposure had taught his system to fight off the virus. That’s something that we’ve never been able to replicate.
It’s important because that ability could lead to us being able to inoculate massive numbers of innocent people.”

“They told me you were looking for a kid, a girl that was tested on back when the apocalypse started,” said Hero.

“Yes, we were. A man named Courtland performed two experiments on children. One of them was a failure, and created the first of what we call the Undying.”

“The zombies that don’t
pop,” said Hero. “We call them Greys.”

“The other child, a girl, disappeared. We knew she was with Reagan, so
there was a chance that her immune system might’ve been influenced by his. We wanted to find her to help save the world from this disease. Think of it, Levon. With them, we might be able to create a cure that spreads from person to person. We could save the world.”

Hero gave a sly smile, and then chuckled. “Nice try, you twisted old bitch.”

“What?” asked Beatrice. “I’m telling the truth. If the girl’s immunity had been bolstered by contact with Reagan, then we might very well have been able to stop the virus.”

“Oh really?” Hero feigned excitement. “Gosh, that’s super.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Because I know your game already, Bea. Hope y
ou don’t mind if I call you Bea. It’s short for Bitch.”

“I should’ve expected as much from a terrorist like you,” she said and crossed her arms.

“I already know about the Noah Initiative. So you can take that high and mighty routine and shove it ten feet up your ass.”

She settled back in her seat, but didn’t look frightened or submissive after Hero’s
revelation that he knew about The Electorate’s plan. “Whatever you think you know, it’s not the entire story. I can assure you of that.”

“Considering the bullshit you just tried to feed me, I’ll just assume that whatever the truth is, you’re not the one that’s going to give it to me.”

“It would do you good to hear both sides of the story,” said Beatrice. “I know it’s probably hard to believe, but I’m not the bad guy here.”

Hero sighed and rolled his eyes. “Save it, sister. I’ve heard that line a thousand times. I’ve never met anyone that admits to being the bad guy. Let me throw this out at you, and tell me when I’m wrong. First off, you were part of the group that released the virus.”

“You don’t know the…” she tried to speak, but Hero cut her off.

“Shut the fuck up. Second, you plan on living forever by doing some science fiction bullshit brain transfer or something.”

“Are you going to let me respond to…”

“Shut the fuck up. Third, you had the scientists here working on a super virus that can infect all mammals, not just humans, and you planned on releasing it as soon as you were able to get all of your body factory girls out of here.”

“Is that all?” asked Beatrice. “Can I speak now?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Hero glared at her in silence for a moment. “Okay, now you can talk.” Hero was amused as he waited for this woman to try and explain away what he already knew. He couldn’t fathom what she could possibly say that could change his mind about her.

She looked up at him with an earnest expression. “I can save you and everyone you love.”

He was shocked into silence.

“You already know what’s coming. There’s nothing we can do to stop it. I can offer you a life better than your wildest dreams, filled with all the treasures and comforts that only the wealthiest people on the planet were ever able to enjoy. Every single day you’ll wake up in paradise, surrounded by the people you love, and never again have to worry about disease or even dying.”

“You must be crazy,” said Hero.

She sat forward and interrupted him. “You’ll have a mansion, or even your own island if you want. I’m talking about paradise, Levon. Perfect weather, sandy beaches, a new girl every night if that’s what you want. I can make every minute of the rest of your life perfect.” She sat back and looked pleased with herself. “Or you could continue being an obstinate prick and never have another comfortable moment for the rest of your short, short life. No one’s going to live through the next apocalypse, my dear man. No one but us, if you play your cards right.”

Hero looked down at her, silent, hoping she thought he was considering her deal. Then he smirked, winked, and said, “Remember how I told you that everyone thinks they’re the good guy? Well, you’re looking at the genuine article, Bea. And being the good guy’s not about being comfortable. Sometimes it’s about getting downright nasty.”

He pointed the gun at her.

Seven
months after the apocalypse

One month after Reagan’s first attack
, they prepare for more.

“Why aren’t they fighting back?” asked Billy.

“They’re too damn scared,” said Hero with a grin before tearing open the packet of honey roasted peanuts. “We put the fear of God in them. Right old man?” He elbowed Reagan who was staring out of the gas station window.

“No,” said Reagan. “I doubt that. And don’t try and be chummy with me, kid. I’m still pissed at you for wrecking the van.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” said Billy. “My back just acted up. Made me jerk the wheel to the right.”

“I liked that van,” said Reagan. “Now we’re stuck tooling around in a damn station wagon trying to cover up our haul with blankets in the back.”