The Reckoning - 02 (47 page)

             
We made it less than twenty yards when he stood up and put the radio back into his pocket. I recognized the type of radio. They were short-distance radios used mostly by backpackers and hunters. They didn’t have the power to broadcast more than a mile or so. He must have been expecting someone to be close enough to respond.

             
“Nice night for a walk,” I said, as I raised my weapon and pointed it right at him.

Shades spun around but his weapon was leaning against the back of the guard shack. He started to fumble for the pistol on his belt, but stopped when he saw that all three of us had him covered. He was tense for a moment, then visibly relaxed and took his hand away from his pistol.

              “What brings you up here?” he asked, acting innocent.

             
“I could ask you the same thing,” I replied.

             
“I just came up to check the gate,” he lied, looking nervous.

             
“Who were you talking to on the radio?” demanded Spec-4.

             
“What….er….what radio?” he asked, stammering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

             
“What the hell is going on, Bertram?” demanded Josh, iron in his voice.

             
“What are you talking about, Sarge?” whined Shades. “I just came up here to check the gate.”

             
“There’s a guard stationed up here,” I replied. “Inside the guard shack.”

             
Spec-4 stepped to the side and glanced in. Then she glanced back and shook her head.

             
“What did you do with the officer that was on duty up here?” I demanded, raising my weapon.

             
“I didn’t do anything,” he whined. “I just told him that I was here to take over. I told him I couldn’t sleep and there was no sense in both of us being awake.”

             
I decided right then that I would have to do something about that. We’d put a protocol in place to make sure no one surrendered a post to someone unless they were supposed to be there. Maybe we could use a password or something like that. But that was something to worry about later. Right now, I had more pressing things to deal with. Like my rising temper and the little traitor that we’d just caught.

             
“Let’s cut the bullshit,” I snapped. “We were watching you on the camera and listening to your radio with the scanner. We know what you were doing.”

             
Shades seemed to grow even paler in the cold moonlight. He started getting very nervous and twitchy. I was afraid he was going to do something stupid, like fire off a shot from an unsuppressed weapon. As quiet as it was, the shot would be heard for miles. It would certainly attract the attention of any zombie in range of the sound.

             
“Keep your hand clear of that weapon,” I snapped. “If you so much as twitch, you’re a dead man.”

             
Slowly, he raised his hands, but his eyes kept darting back and forth like a trapped animal.

             
“Turn around very slowly and place your hands against the back of the guard shack,” I instructed.

             
“Fine,” he said, snidely, “but I want the woman to pat me down.”

             
“In your dreams, scumbag,” said Spec-4, disgustedly.

             
Shades turned towards the wall but kept looking over his shoulder at us with a smirk on his face. I determined right then and there that I was going to wipe that smirk off of his smug little face. Once his hands were against the wall, he continued his mocking tone.

             
“What are you going to do?” he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Arrest me? I don’t submit myself to your authority. I’m a
Freeman
. Your government no longer exists.”

             
I took two steps forward and drove the butt of my weapon into the back of his head, bouncing it off the wall. He fell to the ground, unconscious. There was a bloody spot on the wall where his head had struck it.

             
“No one ever said anything about arresting you, asshole,” I said, almost under my breath.

             
Quickly, I removed his pistol and searched him. I found his extra ammunition and the radio he’d been using. I also found a hand drawn map of the Underground and all of our defenses were marked on it. Then I placed him in handcuffs and double locked them, just to be sure. His head wound was superficial. It would bleed for a few minutes, but he’d be fine. I wasn’t going to waste our medical supplies on him.

             
“What are you going to do with him?” asked Josh, a surprising amount of anger in his voice.

             
“Actually,” I said, grinning, “I think I’ll let him go.”

             
“What?!” said Spec-4, shocked.

             
“Just trust me,” I replied.

             
I sent for an officer to take over gate duty. Then Josh and I each grabbed one of Shades’ arms and lifted him off the ground. We carried him between us and took him back down to the Hive. Once back down at the nerve center of the Underground, I set about organizing my next move.

             
“Josh, I need a disposable vehicle,” I said. “Something we won’t miss.”

             
“How about the security truck?” he asked. “It’s all but useless. I wouldn’t take it out during a toddler attack, let alone in the midst of zombies.”

             
I remembered the vehicle he was referring to. It was an SUV, allegedly. It was one of those tiny, stripped-down economy SUV’s that was about as useful off-road as a submarine in the desert.

             
“Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s perfect. Can you have it brought around?”

             
“I’ll get on it,” he said, and headed out.

             
“Want me to do anything?” asked Spec-4.

             
“Yeah, get me Ramirez,” I said. “I have a job for him, too.”

             
She gave me a suspicious look but headed out, leaving me alone with Shades. He was still out cold, so not much of a conversationalist. I just leaned back in my chair and waited. I didn’t have to wait long. Josh was back first with the Shit Utility Vehicle. It was white with a yellow light bar on top and the security company logo emblazoned on the side.

             
By the time Shades regained consciousness, I had my plan ready. Once he was looking around and groaning, I approached him with a cup of coffee. The coffee was for me, not for him. He wasn’t getting jack shit from me. When his eyes focused on me, he scowled.

             
“Hit me from behind,” he muttered. “Typical. You know you couldn’t have taken me if my back hadn’t been turned.”

             
I’ve heard inmates make similar statements about how I never could have done anything if they weren’t in handcuffs or behind a door. It was pure bullshit. I’d always wanted to be able to call them out on it and shove it in their faces. Well, the rules had changed since the apocalypse started. For one, I didn’t have to take his shit anymore.

             
Handing my rifle to Spec-4, I reached down and removed his handcuffs. Then I stepped back and waited for him to get to his feet. He cautiously stood up, waiting to see if I was going to rush him or just shoot him instead. Once he was on his feet, I held out my hands with the palms up.

             
“Well,” I said, “here I am. You’re not cuffed and I’m not behind you. Show me what you’ve got.”

             
“You’re wearing body armor and you have weapons,” he said, backing slowly away.

             
I dropped my equipment belt to the floor and tossed my hammer on the desk. Then I removed the body armor and dropped it beside the belt. Removing my boot knife from my boot, I sat it on the table and gave him a mocking smile.

             
“What now?”

             
“The others will interfere,” he said, almost whining.

             
“No they won’t,” I assured him. “If you win, you walk out of here.”

             
His eyes started darting around the room, desperately searching for an escape route. There were only two doors out of the room. Spec-4, Ramirez and Southard were covering one and Josh and Banner were on the other one. They hadn’t put down their weapons, either. His only way out of here was through me.

             
“Are you going to do something or are you just full of shit?” I asked, mocking him.

             
Suddenly, he rushed forward in a blind charge. There was no technique to his attack; it was just pure schoolyard bullshit. As he reached for me, I sidestepped and grabbed his extended right wrist with my right hand and twisted sharply. When he screamed and lifted his head, I smashed him right in the mouth with my left hand. Blood and teeth flew into the air as he fell to the ground.

             
“My kids fight better than you do,” I sneered as I let go of his arm.

             
He rolled around on the floor for a few minutes, holding his mouth.

             
“Come on, asshole,” I said. “I even used my left hand. If I’d used my right, I would have broken your jaw.”

             
“I think he’s had enough,” said Josh.

             
“You’re probably right,” I agreed. “These
Freemen
have no heart. They’re all bad-asses against unarmed civilians or when they outnumber you. One on one, they’re nothing. They’re undisciplined, untrained and unintelligent. Basically, they’re just thugs.”

             
“We’ll see,” Shades managed to mutter between whimpers.

             
“You’re pathetic,” I said. “You’re not even worth killing.”

             
“So what do you want to do with him?” asked Southard.

             
“Give him a gun, some food and a car and get him the fuck out of my AO,” I snapped.

             
“What if he goes and tells the
Freemen
where we are?” asked Spec-4, concerned.

             
“Let him,” I said, sarcastically. “If they’re not any better than this idiot, we’ve got nothing to worry about.”

             
Southard and Banner dragged him to his feet and out of the room. I watched as they shoved him inside the crappy little SUV and tossed a couple of MRE’s in the back seat. They also unloaded his rifle and tossed it in the back. Then I walked out of the Hive with the others behind me.

“Listen to me, asshole,” I said. “Take this and get the hell out of here. If we ever see you again, I won’t be this merciful.”

              Shades didn’t waste any time. He fired up the engine and took off for the exit. Southard followed him in a Humvee with Banner on the SAW. I had already stationed Webber on the gate to let him through. Once he was out of sight, I turned back to Spec-4 and Ramirez.

             
“Do you think he bought it?” asked Spec-4.

             
“I thought my performance was convincing,” I assured her. “I’m willing to bet he’s convinced we’ve totally underestimated the
Freemen
.”

             
“With any luck,” said Spec-4, “he’ll head right for them.”

             
“Yep,” I agreed. “Ramirez, how did you rig the explosives? There’s no way to know how long it will take him to get back to wherever they are now.”

             
“Don’t worry,
mano
,” he said, smiling. “There are enough explosives in that SUV to put it on the moon. They’re rigged to a pressure switch. They’ll blow when he gets out of the vehicle.”

             
I just smiled and nodded. Not only had we sent the traitor packing, we had sent him back to his people with a little surprise. It was one that I was very certain that they would not enjoy, so long as Shades didn’t stop or get dragged out of the vehicle by the dead. Well, even then we would take out the traitor and a shitload of zombies at the same time.

             
All in all, it was a good move for us. If he made it back to the
Freemen
he would deal them a severe blow when the explosives detonated. He didn’t have a radio and only had one magazine of ammunition. If he was going to report back to them, he’d have to do it in person. He’d have to get out of the SUV to make his report. Then he’d deliver
our
message instead. Our message was simple.

             
Boom!