100 Days in Deadland (21 page)

The Seventh Circle of Hell

I remembered the feeling of plastic restraints cutting into my wrists from my first night with Clutch. I understood why Tyler felt like he had to arrest me, and before the outbreak I would’ve agreed with him.

But the world had changed.

I felt even edgier without the weight of my gear and weapons. Being defenseless in the middle of zed country, with Clutch undergoing who knows what back at Doyle’s camp, unnerved me.

I sighed. “You didn’t need to tie me up. I’m not a danger to you.”

Tyler turned from the window to me, looking none too pleased. “You killed an unarmed man today.”

If he only knew the facts. “And I don’t regret it.”

Yes, I’d shot that criminal knowing that shit would hit the fan as a result. The man was dead, anyway. I’d simply fired before Clutch did. He was going to pull the trigger. I’d seen it in his eyes, just like he’d seen it in the eyes of the Dog he shot back at Doyle’s gate. So, I killed the man to keep Clutch safe. I just hadn’t figured that Clutch would be a victim in the ensuing cluster fuck. When I saw him again—and I promised myself I would—I was going to wring his freaking neck for playing hero.

Nick shot me a tender glance before returning his focus to driving, and I could feel eyes on my back from Griz and Tack behind me as well. None of them had seen what the Dogs had done to that poor girl. Still, being this close to the militia camp, they must’ve seen things or heard stories when it came to Doyle and his cronies.

“You know Doyle,” I said. “He never would’ve let you take one of his Dogs into custody to stand trial. Face it, the only thing that kept that rapist from getting off free was my bullet.”

Tyler narrowed his gaze. “How can you be so cavalier about taking a man’s life?”

“You didn’t see what they did,” I replied quietly, remembering her broken body and hollow eyes.

He was quiet for a moment. “In case you haven’t noticed, there aren’t many of us left. We have to keep faith in justice. We’ll never make it if we each take the law into our own hands.”

I chortled. “We’ll never make it if we
don’t
take the law into our own hands.” It was futile trying to convince Tyler that the world was no longer wrapped with a comforting blanket of rules and traditions. We could no longer afford the luxury of hiding accountability beneath layers of red tape. Doyle wouldn’t follow the rules. Neither could we. In a matter of days, we’d toppled from thinking we were wolves to realizing that we were only rabbits.

I broke eye contact to look out the window. We were approaching tall chain-link fences, topped with razor wire, surrounding what looked to be at least ten acres of a National Guard base.

Camp Fox.

Too wide open for a solid defense. Too many areas for zeds to break through.

A white wind turbine rotated smoothly, towering above the base. My jaw dropped. “You have power?”

Tyler nodded. “Camp Fox has had its own wind energy for over five years now.”

“Showers?”

His lips curved. “Yes, we even have hot water.” I rested my head on the seat and fantasized about standing under a steamy shower as we approached the gate. Unfortunately, I couldn’t allow myself the luxury of fantasies. Not with Clutch’s—and my—current situation.

Several Humvees and armored vehicles rested on the other side of the tall fence. Camp Fox certainly wasn’t lacking firepower, though Clutch and I had watched on television while cities like D.C. and L.A. fell, despite having massive military power on their streets.

Two soldiers stood while a third stepped inside a guard’s box and opened the gate. They saluted Tyler as we passed through the gate, and he saluted in return. It was then I realized that I might never see the farm again.

“Will Smitty stay with Jase and Eddy tonight?” I asked, knowing that Jase had to be getting worried before long.

“I’m having the boys brought here tonight,” Tyler replied. “I’ll see that you connect with Jase tomorrow morning. I thought it would be safer than leaving him at the farm.”

“I suppose so,” I murmured, though I wasn’t exactly confident in Camp Fox’s strength, not after seeing the way Doyle had scoffed at Tyler.

Beyond the gate stood several small pens holding livestock. A lone bull with wide horns stood in a closed-off area across the road. No doubt this setup was to protect the animals from zeds, but to me, it was like setting out bait. Once zeds depleted the local population, they’d come in hordes to Camp Fox in search for food.

A single zed was easy to kill. They were dumb, slow things. Easy to outthink and outmaneuver. But a herd never tired. Tall fences and bullets couldn’t protect these people. They were rounded up for an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord. I felt a hundred times safer at the farm, where we were ready to bug out at the first sign of herds.

As the Humvee curved around the Camp’s winding roads, people milled around, some worked the gardens while others carried loads. Two young children played with a ball. Several looked up as we passed. Many smiled and waved as though these men were their saviors, which I supposed was true.

Seeing so many people in one place, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of hope. Maybe Jase would be safer here than alone at the farm, for at least now. Maybe Tyler was right. Maybe Camp Fox could recreate civilization. Maybe, just maybe, they could withstand zeds.

We continued past several barracks, all of which had people in regular clothes walking nearby. After another few blocks, Nick pulled to a stop outside a square brick building with a sign that read Camp Fox HQ outside.

Griz and Tack climbed out back before Tyler opened his door. Each man grabbed my arms and pulled me across the seat. With my wrists tied, I nearly stumbled climbing down from the Humvee.

As soon as Tack shut the door, the Humvee drove off, leaving the four of us standing alone in the small parking lot. The sun had already begun to set, casting a warm orange glow onto the red bricks. Clutch was in the direction of the falling sun. What would he be doing now? Would he be tied up like I was, or was he playing along with Doyle?

Tyler tugged me along and I had to hurry to keep up with his longer strides. Griz and Tack followed us up the steps and through the double doors.

Inside, the building seemed innocuous. With the exception of military insignias, the main area could’ve passed for any town hall. Tyler stopped us at the front desk, where a man and woman sat. He was in uniform, while she wore jeans. “Is the Colonel available?” Tyler asked.

The woman spoke first. “He is. Shall I let him know you’re coming?”

“Yes, thank you,” Tyler nodded and then turned to me. A pained look flashed across his face before he turned to the two soldiers with us. “Escort the prisoner to interrogation room one.” He gave me a final, almost-pained glance before turning on his heel and hurrying down a hallway.

Tension grew in my muscles.

“This way, sugar,” Griz said.

With one man on either side, they walked me down a hallway, stopping when we came to an opened door.

Tack flipped a switch, and light flooded the room. The room sat empty except for a table and two chairs.

Griz nudged me inside, and I winced at the sudden brightness. With his rifle, he motioned to a chair. “Take a seat.”

I swallowed and obeyed and was somewhat surprised that they didn’t restrain me to the chair, not that I was an expert on interrogations. The sum of my experience came from what I’d seen on TV. They left me alone, closing the door behind them. I suspected at least one of them remained just outside the door, but I could neither see nor hear them.

The room was small, maybe eight-by-eight, without any windows. No one-way mirror covered the wall, though I supposed video cameras had long since replaced one-way mirrors.

I closed my eyes. Focused on my breathing. Silently repeated my mantra to soothe my nerves until I realized there was no way to get the upper hand in this situation.

I was at their mercy, plain and simple.

Long after my butt had gone numb in the cold metal chair, the door opened, and I started.

A man I didn’t recognize walked in first, followed by Tyler. The newcomer was tall, his face craggy, and looked to be in his late forties. He took the other chair, while Tyler stood off to the side.

“I’m Lieutenant Colonel John Lendt.” The man sitting across from me looked every bit the leader Tyler had made him out to be. A piercing, sharp gaze, hard jaw, and strong shoulders hinted that this man was confident in both his intelligence and strength. He was downright intimidating without even trying.

“I’m Cash. I’d shake your hand, but my hands are preoccupied.”

“Just Cash?” He raised a brow.

I shrugged. “I’m no longer who I was before.”

One corner of his mouth rose. “I disagree. Who we were shapes us into who we are, and who we are shapes us into who we’ll become.” He leaned back. “But we’re not here to talk philosophy, are we. Captain Masden witnessed you shooting an unarmed man without provocation today. What do you have to say to that charge?”

A thousand different responses shot through my brain. I settled on simple honesty. “Yes, I shot him, but I had provocation.”

His brows tightened. “You realize that under military law the punishment for murder is death.”

I looked down at the table and swallowed.

Lendt came to his feet. “Sergeant Nicholas Lee has volunteered to lead your defense. I’ll have a tribunal scheduled for the day after tomorrow. No need to delay this messy business, but you have my word that you’ll be treated fairly.”

Tyler followed Lendt out of the room.

I frowned. This was an interrogation? No questions about why I’d done it?

“This way.”

Griz stood in the doorway, motioning to me, and I rose and followed him, feeling as though my doom was already sealed. Numbness coated my thoughts as they escorted me out the other side of the building and across a wide sidewalk to a low one-story building. Inside, the short hallway was lined with several cell doors and more hallways, though I could hear no one else nearby. They put me into the first tiny, windowless cell with a narrow bed and a steel latrine and sink.

“Hold still for a moment,” Griz said just before I felt a tug and the plastic restraint snapped free. I rubbed my wrists and faced the two soldiers as one shut the steel door.

Tack faced me through the bars in the door’s window. “The bastard got what he deserved,” he said before disappearing, leaving me alone in my cell.

I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the gray ceiling. How had everything gone to shit so quickly?

Silence boomed off the walls in response.

I thought of Jase. He knew people here. They could look out for him.

But Clutch…

For all I knew, he was lying dead in that zed pit right now.

The sound of boot steps echoing down the hallway brought me back, and I pulled myself up and walked toward the door in time to meet the driver from the Humvee.

He was looking to his left. “Open up.”

“I can’t, sir,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Colonel’s orders. He said the prisoner is a flight risk.”

Nick rolled his eyes before turning to me. “Hi, Cash. I’m Sergeant Nick Lee.”

“I remember,” I replied. “Good to see you again.”

“I’ll represent you at your trial. Since you already admitted to the murder, I think our best defense is to prove that there was no premeditation, and, therefore, this wasn’t first-degree murder. That way, you’ll just get time in the brig, and the death sentence gets ruled out.”

I watched him for a moment. “Why are you helping me, Nick?”

He shrugged, and then lowered his voice. “I’ve seen some shit. Bad things that have happened to women
and
men. We’ve all heard rumors. If you said both you and your friend saw this guy hurt a girl, I believe it. Now, if we can get your friend to testify, it will help your cause. The fact that he’s a veteran is even better.” He paused for a moment. “But, honestly, I don’t think we’ll be able to get him here for the trial.”

Not that I was surprised. Still, having my thoughts spoken aloud burned. “Can’t Lendt order him to come to the Camp?”

“Sure, but I don’t think it will do any good. Colonel Lendt ordered Doyle to come to the Camp after Masden filled him in, and Doyle hasn’t shown up yet.” Nick grinned. “And, Colonel Lendt doesn’t take kindly to being screwed with. I think he’s finally going to make Doyle come to heel and break up the militia.”

“Watch out for Doyle,” I said, a rock forming in my gut.

“What’s he going to do? Attack Camp Fox?” He smirked. “Don’t worry. We have many times the resources and firepower that Doyle’s got. We’re safe enough here. Let’s start prepping for your trial. Start at the beginning, and tell me everything.”

****

Several hours later, I woke, sweating and heart racing. I dreamed that Clutch was in the room with me. Except that he was a zed.

A siren pierced the night’s silence, and I lunged to the door. “What’s going on?” I called out, hoping someone was nearby.