“Cut him free. If he makes one false move, shoot the woman in the knee.” Hart shook with rage.
The private cut the plastic ties and followed Mason over to Hart, with the gun shoved in the small of the prisoner’s back before turning it on Rosella.
“Present your arm, soldier.” Hart gave Mason an icy stare.
Mason gritted his teeth and held out his right arm.
Hart grabbed the back of Mason’s forearm and brought the needle to the inside of his elbow. Hart’s hand still shook, but his eyes were alight in victory.
The needle went in. Hart pushed the plunger.
Rosella screamed.
Mason brought his left fist up and caught Hart under the chin, knocking him to the floor.
The soldier turned the gun on Mason and fired.
Mason twisted his body and delivered a low sweep kick. The private’s knees buckled, sending him crashing to the ground. Mason fell on him, smashing his elbow on the soldier’s head.
The syringe fell to the floor. Only a small portion had been injected. Mason grabbed it up and crawled to Hart’s side. The Colonel fought to regain his senses.
“You disgusting piece of shit, it’s time you take some of your own medicine.” Mason stuck the needle in Hart’s jugular and pushed in the vaccine.
“I . . . I…” Hart gasped, his body stiffened. His eyes remained open as he exhaled his last breath.
Mason rolled on his back.
“You’ve been shot!” Rosella said, horrified.
A small hole, inches under Mason’s heart, pulsed with a trickle of blood after each beat. He pressed his hand over the hole. “I didn’t even feel it. Maybe it’s not too bad.” He reached over and grabbed the knife, then cut Mitch free.
Mitch took the knife as Mason slowly lowered himself down to the floor, and freed Rosella.
“He’s hurt. Oh, Mason.” Rosella fell on her knees and took his hand.
“I didn’t mean it.” Mason coughed. A little blood showed on his lower lip. “What I said about the Rangers. I was just pushing Hart’s buttons. Trying to get his guard down. I love my country. I love the service and being a Ranger. I… I love you too, Rosella.”
“Don’t talk. We’ll get you out. Find you a doctor,” Mitch said.
“No. It’s too late. You need to leave. Take Rosella and get as far away as you can. I’m dying. I can feel it.”
“I’m so sorry . . .” Rosella fought back her tears.
“Don’t be . . . don’t be sorry. This is why fate let me live. It was to save you and Mitch. It all makes sense now. I didn’t die in Iraq just so I could save you and Mitch. I just wish I could see my son one last time. Tell him to be good to his mom and always to stand up for what’s right. Let him know that the world is full of bad people, and he’ll have to be one of the good ones, and to let him know I love him, and always will.”
“That’s right, buddy.” Bryan Webb, the first of his team to die at the hands of Scarface, stepped into Mason’s line of vision. “You were on an extended mission.”
“We knew you could pull it off.” Randle Sanderson joined his Ranger companion. Both were dressed in fresh Army fatigues, and looked as young and vibrant, as the first time Mason ever met them.
“Thanks, guys. I’ve missed you so much. I wish I could hug your ugly dog faces, but I don’t have the legs to get up.” Mason coughed.
“What’s he saying?” Rosella asked.
“I’m not sure,” Mitch said.
“You’re wasting time down here. Time to go. We’ve got things to do, and your friends need to leave,” Webb said, and held out his hand.
Mason stretched his arm forward and clasped an unseen hand. “Rangers, lead the way.” Serenity hugged Mason at that moment and brought peace.
“Oh, Mason.” Rosella leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
“He’s gone, baby. To a better place. We need to leave while we can.”
“I know. I know. Goodbye, Mason.”
Mitch pulled Rosella by the hand and helped her to her feet. He grabbed the pistol and the soldier’s hat. Mitch went to the door and slowly opened it. There was no one in the short hall that led to the outside. “I can’t believe there isn’t anyone around.”
“I was just waking up from the drug when we entered the base. I don’t remember seeing many soldiers around then. How many are supposed to be at the base?”
“I don’t know. Not that many, I hope. Let’s go.” Mitch ran to the door leading outside and scanned the area through the window. “Looks clear.” He opened the door and spied a Humvee parked nearby. “There’s our way out.”
Mitch and Rosella sprinted to the mud covered truck and fired it up. “We’re not stopping for anything. Do you understand? I mean nothing.”
Rosella nodded and buckled herself in the seat.
The truck was in the back of the building, and when Mitch turned the corner, he saw two armed guards at the gate. “That’s two too many. At least we have a chance.” He sat low in the seat doing his best to let only the Army hat on his head show above the wheel. He slowed as he approached the arm of the barricade.
The two soldiers casually approached the Hummer. Just as they were a few feet away, Mitch hit the gas and crashed into the barricade arm. It pushed to the side and uprooted from the ground at the pivot point. They were fast on their way to freedom.
“We did it! We’re out!” Mitch’s victory was short lived as rifle fire hit the vehicle. “Get down. We just need a couple of more minutes. Please, God. We’re so close!”
“They’ll come after us. We’re never going to escape.”
“No. I won’t let anyone stop us. Not now. Not when I have you back. I may not have been there for you in the past, but I’m here now, and I will never fail you again!” Mitch had the engines screaming as gunshots rang out. The truck bottomed out several times on the bumpy limestone road. Soon enough, the plink of bullets striking the Hummer stopped. Mitch made it to the highway, and turned, aiming for the parish line.
* * *
“Hart is with the sheriff in building eight,” Gottlieb said.
“Why didn’t you go with him?” Lieutenant Reid asked.
“I’ll tell you just like I told him. My duties to the U. S. Army are limited to my contract. I was authorized to run the tests on the inmates. If I go outside of my contract, then I am subject to liability. I have no authorization to administer the vaccine on a civilian. I refuse to take part in such actions.”
“Mason had been an active member of the Army. Once you sign on the dotted line as a solider, you stay a soldier forever. We own him. We can do whatever we want.”
“And you can do it without my help. I’m not taking any chances. You’re on your own.”
Automatic gunfire from outside drew Reid’s attention. He left the doctor and saw two guards at the gate fire at a fleeing Humvee.
Gottlieb showed up at his side. The two looked at each other.
“Come with me.” Reid turned and ran toward building eight. The doctor jogged a little behind. The door to the building closed before he arrived.
He ran down the hall and into the interrogation room. Reid was on one knee checking Hart for a pulse. The syringe stuck in Hart’s neck was a good indicator of his fate.
Reid pulled out the syringe. “He’s going to turn soon. We have to do something about it. Not only that, get the drones ready for action. I’m going to send them on their first mission.”
* * *
Zombies littered the highway. Mitch slowed and swerved, doing his best not to hit any and delay their escape. The roadblock leading to the next parish was in sight. Bodies of zombies cut down by Army rifles scattered the area.
“What are you going to do?” Rosella asked.
“The only thing I know to do. Ram this gate too.”
“What if they shoot us? What if one of them has a bazooka or something and blows us up? What if the road is mined with explosives?”
“You’ve seen too many movies. Hold on, baby. This will be the ride of your life.” Mitch pressed the gas to the floor and picked up speed.
Three soldiers stood on top of an armored personnel truck waving their arms for Mitch to stop.
“I only see three of them. They must be short on soldiers. Maybe the fight’s not going well for them either.”
“We’re going to die!” Rosella cried.
“Brace yourself.”
Rosella wrapped her arms over her head.
The Humvee smashed into the drop arm and the wooden barricade behind it.
A horrendous crash had Mitch wondering if the truck had broken in two. He bounced so high his head hit roof. The Hummer swerved nearly beyond his control. A loud scraping noise from underneath the truck forced him to come to a stop. He jumped out and gave the Hummer a quick look over. Part of the wood barricade was wedged underneath the front.
Mitch returned inside the vehicle, put it in reverse, and backed up. The broken piece of barricade dislodged.
He slammed the Hummer into drive and left the town of Botte behind.
Chapter 22
The End?
Mitch pressed so hard on the gas pedal he was afraid he’d jammed it to the floor. He removed his foot and felt the vehicle slow to a more reasonable speed. A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed that no one was following them. Still, he checked every few seconds, convinced at any moment that flashing lights would appear.
The Army isn’t the police, you idiot
, he reminded himself. Would the military have flashing lights? They’d have headlights for sure, and those he’d be able to see. How to deal with the Army would be another story, and after what had transpired with Mason and Hart, there was no way soldiers would ask questions first.
He glanced over at Rosella. Tears cascaded down her tan cheeks. She looked so much like her mother. So much it made Mitch’s heart ache even more than it normally did. He was a man of constant regret, but in the end, he’d won his daughter back. The universe was funny like that. Just when you think you’ve bottomed out, life throws a curve ball. If all this had to happen for him to regain the love of a daughter he’d abandoned, then so be it.
Mason was a class act. A valiant Ranger to the very end. He was someone who looked death straight in the eye and laughed. Mason deserved better. Mitch smiled. He knew Mason would have kicked his ass for even thinking that. A Ranger laid down his life for another Ranger. It was just their way.
“Where are we going?” Rosella asked. She shifted in her seat and faced Mitch.
“To Cochon, the next town over. We need to get the word out and warn everyone about what is happening in Botte.”
“You really think anyone is going to believe us? ‘The dead are walking, quick, pack your stuff!’ That sounds a bit crazy.”
“We have to try. Mason didn’t die just so we could get away and keep this horrible secret to ourselves. People in Cochon have to be wondering what’s going on in Botte, with the Army blockade, and all.”
Rosella choked back a sob at the mention of Mason’s name. Mitch felt his cheeks flush with regret for saying that, even though it was true.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Mason was a hell of a person and soldier. If anything, he showed you the kind of guy you deserve in your life. The way to honor him is never to forget what he did for us. What he did for me.”
“What did he do for you?”
“He gave me my daughter back.” Mitch smiled and placed a hand on Rosella’s shoulder. She smiled.
“Mason was such a troubled soul. Of the times we spoke, he never mentioned his childhood. Or much about his time in Iraq. He was captured and tortured not long before he was given an honorable discharge. I knew he had a dark side, but when he was around me, he acted vulnerable, almost boyish shy. Ruth told me how he felt about me, and I decided that if he didn’t have the nerve to ask me out, then I was going to ask him out.”
“In this day and age, I think that’s an acceptable practice. But any man wanting your hand in marriage has to come through me first.”
Rosella smirked in surprise.
Mitch just smiled and laughed. “Yeah, I know. You’re old enough to make your own decisions now. I was just pretending what it would be like if . . . if our relationship would have been what it should have been.”
Rosella sighed and looked out the window. “Everything out here looks the same, normal. Nothing like the nightmare we just escaped. I have such a hole in my heart for all those we lost. Barry, poor Barry. The others at the diner. All the customers I knew by name. I knew their children’s name. Those with us. Troy and Sky. The way the Mayor died. Joyce and, and the alligator. I even feel sorry for Beaux and Mindi. They were stupid. Young stupid, though. Their lives were snuffed out before they really had a chance to grow. It seems like such a waste.”
“All the lives in Botte were wasted, and I can’t help but feel a little responsible. I should have been more involved. Maybe I couldn’t have talked Burl into making a stink with the media, found a way for him to keep his job, and not let the Army take over.”
“Mitch. You were just the Assistant Warden at Paradis. Do you really think someone on your level has that kind of influence to stop something as big as this?”
Mitch shook his head. “No, I guess not. I can’t help but feel guilty, though. It just all sucks.”
“That’s an understatement.” Rosella’s gaze turned back to the window. “You know what image I keep seeing in my mind?”
“No, what?”
“I see Mason walking in the diner wearing that stupid grin.”
“That stupid grin cost thousands of dollars for the U.S. taxpayer. He lost most of his real teeth in Iraq.”
“You know what I mean.” Rosella playfully slapped Mitch on the shoulder. “Do you know anything about Mason’s son? Or the mother.”
“I’m sad to say I don’t. He never said much about either, just mentioned them as being in his past.”
“We should try to find them. His son is going to want to know what kind of man his dad was. If we let his mother tell the only side of the story, he’ll never realize what great sacrifice Mason gave for others. We owe Mason at least that much.”
Mitch nodded. “You know, that’s exactly what we need to do. Once things get back to normal, I’ll track them down. You and I will take a trip together.”
“I’d really like to do that. Maybe we can go to his house and check his office for some personal mementos to bring with us. I’m sure he has legal papers and other things of value. Probably a box full of decorations from the war and pictures when he was younger. It would be terrible if his son didn’t even know what his father looked like. Mason has to have some kind of insurance, too.”
“There’s no doubt about that. The amount won’t be much if it’s just a standard policy from the state like I have. Still, it’s enough for him to get a good education at a state college.”
They continued down the silent highway, unimpeded by any vehicles or people, both living and dead. A yellow neon sign glowed like a fake moon on the horizon, signaling a Waffle Barn restaurant. Mitch slowed down. The relief of finding civilization made his heartbeat quicken.
“This place looks great. We can let the folks inside know what transpired, and then use their phone to call some of the news stations. Maybe even grab a bite to eat. I could really use some coffee if I’m going to keep driving.”
Rosella agreed. As they turned into the parking lot, they were relieved to see several police cars. Mitch figured it was probably officers getting off shift and having breakfast before heading home, and as an officer still wearing his uniform, he knew they’d listen to him.
They exited the vehicle and stepped onto the shell parking lot. The small white shells crunched under their shoes. Mitch froze, startling Rosella.
“What is it?” she asked, looking around.
“I thought I heard something.”
They stood in silence for a few seconds. The only sounds were boisterous laughter and conversation coming from inside the diner. The muffled sound of a jukebox wailed classic George Strait.
“I guess it was nothing. I’m just getting old, is all.”
They walked up the wooden steps and entered the diner. A loud bell overhead clanged to announce their arrival. A dozen faces looked up as the patrons took notice to who had entered. Just as quickly, a dozen faces went back down to their meals. Mitch looked around and saw a group of four police officers sitting in a booth, chatting over large plates of pancakes and eggs. They were sweaty and dirty from, what Mitch assumed, was a hard night of dealing with the world’s finest. He took a deep breath, mustered up his courage, and approached them. Rosella sat at a booth on the far end. A waitress bustled over to her as soon as her butt hit the seat.
“Excuse me, officers.” Mitch stood straight and made eye contact with four pairs of tired eyes.
“Can we help you?” one said, annoyed.
“No, but I can help you. My name is Mitch Blackwell. I’m the Assistant Warden at Paradis. We have had an incident in Botte, and well, this is going to sound crazy as shit, but the entire town has been overrun by zombies manufactured by the military. We barely escaped. We need your help to warn everyone.”
There was silence as the officers stared at him slack-jawed. Then, they laughed. One laughed so hard he choked on a small piece of bacon. Tears streamed from another’s face, and another turned beet red. Mitch stood there, flabbergasted.
“Sir, I think you’ve had a long night. That’s a real funny story and all. Seriously, I’ve never heard one like that before. Why don’t you go have a cup of coffee and sober up a bit.”
“Hey, asshole! I haven’t had a drop to drink in years. I’m trying to save your life! They’re coming for us all. They’ll eat our flesh! You have to do something.”
The smiles on the officer’s faces faded. They glared at Mitch, and he realized he’d just crossed the line. He shouldn’t have called them assholes. The officer who had first greeted him spoke.
“Sir, we’ve had a long night, and the last thing we need is some old man fucking with us. I’m going to tell you for the last time to go have a seat, and don’t you dare bother us again, or you’ll be sleeping off whatever the hell you’re on inside a cell. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” Mitch said.
Rosella screamed.
In one perfect, chaotic moment, two windows from opposite sides of the diner smashed in, and five figures entered the diner. Mitch recognized the orange jump suits of Paradis lifers. They were here, but these weren’t the same as the one’s he’d encountered at the prison. They were quick, agile, and lethal. The intruders pounced on the patrons, tearing limbs from torso and jugulars from throats. The diner flooded with screams of terror, the metallic clang of silverware, and the smashing of plates. Napkins exploded in the air like doves, and food smacked against the walls with sickening plops. The clamorous noise hurt Mitch’s ears.
Mitch felt the officers rush past as an orange-clad monster descended on them. Two gnarled hands shot forward and ripped gaping holes in a pair of throats. The officers hit the ground, gurgling blood, which poured from their necks like a waterfall. One officer drew his gun and fired, hitting the fiend in the head. It slumped to the floor, and Mitch saw the metallic contraption it wore fall off and roll before coming to a stop. The officer who had fired screamed as another zombie pounced on him like a feral jungle cat.
Mitch froze. He looked across the diner and saw Rosella lying on the ground. A zombie stood over her and flung her organs up in the air like a child throwing confetti. He mouthed the words, ‘I’m sorry,’ as her head rocked back and forth, glassy eyed, and staring into nothing. She was gone. In the end, he had gotten his daughter back just to lose her all over again. Life was cruel. That was the lesson he would take to his grave, much sooner than expected.
He felt the air rush out as he was tackled from behind. Clawed hands ripped at his back, bringing searing pain as broken fingernails dug into soft flesh. He wanted to scream, but nothing came out. He was lost in emotion, and although the physical pain was like nothing he’d experienced before, Mitch didn’t utter a sound. Another pair of hands gripped around his head and gave it a violent tug. He gazed up just enough to recognize his attacker. Jeffrey Williams, the man he tried to save in the gardens of Paradis, snarled down at him.
Mitch didn’t feel anything, just heard the sound of a loud pop, and then nothing as his head detached from his body. Tossed to the side, his head rolled underneath a booth and fell on its side. For the last few seconds of his life, Mitch Blackwell watched as the remaining patrons, including his daughter, were butchered.
* * *
A red light blinked on the drone’s headset. The four zombies stopped their vicious onslaught. They scanned the overturned tables and smashed booths, searching for any traces of life that needed to be snuffed out. The room was clear, all occupants were dead. Two walked over to the one who received a bullet to the head. They picked up their fallen comrade and the Neural Net. In a single-file line, they marched out of the diner like soldiers in a parade assembly. Their headsets beeped as orders came in.
The directions were simpler this time: Head back to base.
They walked silently down the dark highway, the two in the rear carrying the dead drone. The Humvee that carried them there was parked behind a tree. The two carrying the dead drone tossed the corpse into the back of the vehicle. They climbed in and started the drive back to base.
Up ahead, people began to appear on the horizon, hundreds littering the road. The drones received orders to scan the upcoming mass. All scans revealed no vitals and no body temperatures exceeding the surrounding air. They were dead, like them. The drones drove past the mass of moaning voices and thrashing limbs. Blind eyes lurched forward in search of only one thing: food.
The zombies paid the drones no mind as the Humvee headed toward them. One of the undead was knocked to the ground as the edge of the front fender caught its leg. At their current pace, the drones would be back on base soon. There, they would receive their next orders.
The swarm of zombies continued, moving forward without care or regard. The air was peppered with the scents of living flesh and fresh life; it drove them forward. A new challenge for humanity was upon them, and though the majority of Louisiana residents were fast asleep in their beds, they would wake to find life as they knew it had
changed
.