Camp Zero (Book 3): State of Decay Page 3
However, there had been no word from them in over a week.
“Any luck?” Sam asked.
Murphy shook his head. “Nothing but white noise.”
He tossed down his headset.
“Maybe they are having issues on their end.”
“They always check in. A week hasn’t gone by in over three months.”
“Give it until tomorrow,” Ally said.
That evening the mood inside Hayden had changed. As no bodies had been returned from Faulkton, a small funeral was given for those that didn’t make it back. Hank shared a few words, as most of the remaining families were distraught.
Sam had just started getting used to living in Hayden. A lot had changed in six months. Everyone in the community worked together. Though the idea to surround the town with fencing didn’t continue after the battle with the Commander’s men, some were beginning to think that perhaps it wasn’t a bad idea. None of them truly knew what they were dealing with. Besides the weekly contact via ham radio, there was little information on what was being done in the country to re-stabilize.
No more military had been seen since the Commander, which led everyone to assume that in light of what had occurred in Faulkton — no help was on the way.
As much as Hank tried to calm the fears of the community, there was no way to cherry coat it and he couldn’t lie to the families. Word soon spread that something far more dangerous was out there.
Gathered around a fire pit that evening, Hank, Murphy and Shaw discussed options. One of them was to continue building the fence. It couldn’t surround the entire town as that would take too long and there wasn’t enough material. But they were tossing around the idea of sealing off a smaller portion of the community: mainly the Town Hall, Main Street and a few residential areas. They would take what had already been erected on the north and south sides and use the material to enclose. Hank said they could have it in place within a couple of weeks if everyone pitched in. It would mean sharing housing and having less space but it would also mean that fewer people would be required to watch the perimeter.
“We’ll put it to a vote,” Hank said.
“A vote? If you guys had seen what we had, you wouldn’t spend any time voting, you would just erect the fence immediately.”
“It doesn’t work that way, Luke. This is a community where more than one life is at risk. Everyone must be involved in the decision process,” Hank reminded him.
“Great. Well, while you waste your time trying to get people to make a decision, I’m going to consider other towns that we can move to.”
Luke got up and walked off into the night. Corey sat with Kiera. Sam had to admit it was a little odd seeing them together but on the other hand Corey seemed to give Kiera some sense of comfort beyond her mother. Shaw didn’t seem too thrilled by it but it wasn’t like she was going to come down heavy on her daughter.
“What’s his problem?” Corey asked.
“If you had seen what we had, you would understand. Listen, the longer we take to decide on what we are going to do, the more at risk we become.”
“You said they were like us, right?” Hank asked. “In which case I can only gather they would remain where they are. Perhaps they fear the same way as us.”
“They don’t fear anything.”
“Then they aren’t like us.”
“Look, I don’t know what they are but they are stronger, more violent and they don’t quit. I saw a woman fall off a building and get up again. It’s like pain is turned off for them. The only consolation is that when you kill them they stay dead. But believe me, they are a threat, far greater than what we experienced with the Commander,” Sam said.
It was getting late and slowly people around the fire dispersed. One good thing about not being stuck in the forest anymore was that they had real beds to sleep in at night. As Sam returned to the home he shared with Billy, Corey and Luke, all he had seen preoccupied his mind. It had been a long time since they had felt a threat from others.
Over the next two hours he rolled around in bed trying to sleep but he couldn’t. He was unable to push from his mind what had happened to Michael. In many ways he was grateful that he didn’t have family to care about. It made people lose their heads. And yet if he was honest, those who’d survived had now become his family.
The lives of those who had perished in Faulkton weighed heavily on him. They had got to know him over the months and while that connection was paper thin, he felt the tear.
Sam tossed and turned for hours. Eventually, tired of not being able to sleep he rose from his bed and slipped back into his clothes. He tugged on his boots and headed out in the direction of the ham radio. Outside the air was crisp and a cold breeze brushed against his skin.
At night there were usually around fifty people awake at any given time. It was a shift that rotated and everyone took a turn. If you were up in the night you slept in the day. A couple of the men looked over to him as he crossed the street heading for the building that housed the radio equipment. One of them gave him a nod and went back to looking out into the darkness. Most of the ammo they now had was reserved for security. This wasn’t a problem, as up until a month ago, they hadn’t encountered any trouble. There had been a few incidents with hunters who had come across the community and didn’t take too kindly to following rules but no one had been killed until most recently.
Sam used a flashlight to illuminate his way to the table in the house. He switched on the unit, which was powered by a generator. It was a larger device than the one they had used in Mount Pleasant. It had been built by the military and left behind by those they had killed.
In front of him was a piece of paper taped to the desk with a list of different frequencies that some of the towns were locked into. On one side of the paper were town names and to the right their associated frequency. He slumped down in the chair and put the headphones on. Over the span of ten minutes he checked the different frequencies but there was nothing. He decided to move to a clear frequency and call CQ.
“CQ, CQ, CQ. This is HD3strg.”
Sam sent it twice to make sure. He continued to follow the procedure that Hank had shown him. For twenty minutes there was nothing. He lit a cigarette and walked over to the door and glanced out. Security people were guarding both the west and east points. At night there were only a few lights that came from the odd flashlight or cigarette. Everyone had been instructed to use light at night only when really necessary. A few of them used night vision goggles to avoid any surprise attacks.
He was halfway through his cigarette when he heard a crackle behind him. He went back over to the radio and continued trying over the course of another hour. He was starting to get tired and was thinking of calling it a night when someone answered from Mount Pleasant.
“Come in, Murphy. Anyone?”
The voice sounded familiar but Sam didn’t immediately figure out who it was.
“MT3WIK, this is HD3strg. Hotel Delta Three Sierra Tango Romeo Golf.”
“Sam? Sam, is that you?”
“Tom?”
“Oh god, Sam, we need help. We need help. Please. My father has been...” he trailed off.
“What? Slow down. What’s going on?”
It was hard to determine what he was trying to say as one moment he spoke in a whisper and the next he was crying.
“Please. They are everywhere.”
“Who? What?”
“Bryan Catz.”
“Bryan?”
The communication didn’t last but a few seconds and in that time Sam was unable to get a clear word out of him. He was hyperventilating and by the sounds of it he wasn’t alone. He was pretty sure that someone in the background told him that they had to go.
“Enough.”
Then there was white noise and then nothing. Sam continued to communicate hoping that he could hear him. He sat there for another ten minutes not having much success.
“Tom, come in, are you there? Can you hear me?”
The next response made fear trickle through his being. At first there was heavy breathing then a scream. It was the same as what he’d heard back in Faulkton. The hairs on his arms went up and he dropped the mic in front of him and backed up. It felt like someone had turned the temperature down in the room. He shivered. When he finally mustered the nerve to try it again, there was nothing but white noise.
“Come in, Tom. Tom.”
Sam tossed the headphones down and raced over to Murphy’s house. It was still dark and he likely would be asleep. Murphy and Shaw shared the place with Ally and Kiera. Upon arriving he banged on the door until he heard someone shuffling inside. Murphy opened the door and Sam walked straight past him.
“Bad dream again, Sam?”
Sam went into the living area and took a seat. Ally must have heard the commotion as she called down from upstairs, “What’s going on?”
“It’s okay, go back to bed,” Murphy said.
“It was Tom. Something terrible has happened.”
Murphy rubbed his eyes. “Hold on a second. Back up. What? Tom who?”
“Barrington. I couldn’t sleep. I went on the ham radio to see if I could connect with the towns. Nothing. Then I got a response. He mentioned his father. He said ‘they’ were everywhere and… he mentioned Bryan Catz.”
“Skinhead? Bryan Catz, the one that got away?”
“Yeah.”
Sam was shaking with his hands together in front of him. He was perched on the edge of a leather couch.
“What else did he say?”
“He didn’t. The call went dead. I mean, something came on that line. One of them. You know.”
Murphy tossed his hands up. “I’m confused. One of what? You are not making any sense.”
“When we were in Faulkton. The people that attacked us made this sound. It was guttural, high-pitched. That’s the noise I heard over the radio.”
Murphy slumped down in a chair across from him and ran both hands over his face.
“Okay, listen, there isn’t anything we can do tonight. Get some sleep, we’ll talk about this in the morning.”
“In the morning? Are you out of your mind?”
“Sam. What are you going to do? We are miles and miles away from Mount Pleasant.”
“So we leave at dawn.”
“Hold on a second. I didn’t say that.”
Sam stood to his feet. “Then what are you saying?”
“We’ll talk it over with Hank and let the people decide what we should do.”
“Talk it over? You want to put this to a vote like the fence? I’m starting to think that Luke is right.”
Sam began heading for the door.
“Sam, come back. Where are you going?”
He tossed up his arms. “To speak to someone who will actually do something about this.”
“It’s not safe.”
Sam had his hand on the door handle when he turned back. “Bryan Catz was involved in the killing of Sara and Jodi.”
“That was Markus.”
“Markus, Bryan, they were all working together. He got away and now he’s returned.”
With that said, Sam slammed the door.
3
Sam wasn’t sure what was harder to accept, Murphy wanting to hold off and get people to vote on whether or not to help those in Mount Pleasant or Luke’s change of heart. He’d waited until morning until he brought it up.
“Hold on a minute, are you saying you don’t want to go?”
“I’m saying there isn’t a reason.”
“A reason? When have you ever needed a reason to kill?”
Luke was frying an egg in a pan over a small fire pit. Every home had one. It was just a cluster of stones in a circle with wood in the middle and a BBQ grate over the top.
“What do you want me to say, Sam?”
“Yes.”
He shook his head as he continued poking at the egg that had broken apart. “Fuck, I can never get these eggs to stay in one shape. Listen, Sam, if you want to go, no one is stopping you but I think it’s a suicide mission. We would be better off using our time to convince those in the town to get started on building the fence. At least that way we stand a chance of surviving.”
“What then? You think you are going to be safe? You saw how strong they were. They will tear through that fence like a hot knife through butter and you know that.”
“It will be reinforced.”
Sam shook his head.
Luke stopped prodding his mutated-looking egg. “You want me to risk my life for people I don’t know.”
“It’s Tom Barrington.”
He let out a laugh. “A few years ago you would have been glad to see that guy die. He was an asshole then, believe me, an apocalypse doesn’t change that. You squeeze an orange, orange juice comes out. Same with him, he’s an asshole.”
Sam turned to Corey who was laying back in hammock made out of rope and bedsheets.
“Corey.”
“Don’t look at me, buddy. I’m with Luke on this one.”
“Billy.”
“Under any other circumstances I would say yes. I like the idea of going in there and fucking a few people up but on the other hand I like what we are building here. It’s comfortable, safe and there is order to this place.”
“What the hell has that got to do with anything?”
“What he is saying is that we aren’t going to risk our necks for a bunch of people that wouldn’t have given us the time of day before this apocalypse kicked off.”
“Those people who didn’t give you the time of day, were the same ones that came to our aid. Or have you forgotten that?”
Luke scooped out the egg onto a plate and snorted. “Right. They helped us. Whatever. I’m pretty sure we were the ones that saved their ass. They came in at the last minute and that was only because Dan convinced them, otherwise they would have still been barricaded inside their homes.”
“Do you blame them?”
“Whatever, man. I just want to have my breakfast in peace and quiet. Shit happens. People die.”
Luke walked back into the house and slumped down on a couch. Sam stared at the other two who were both preoccupied with making coffee, or being the next in line to heat up food.
“Fine. I’ll go by myself.”
“Sam, sit down and enough with the hero complex. If you are so adamant about going, wait until Murphy has spoken with Hank and put it to a vote.”
“Are you kidding? You were the one who was against the whole voting system in the first place. Do you know how long and drawn-out that process is? They vote weekly. If they can’t reach an agreement they give everyone time to think it over.” He paused. “Tom and whoever else is in Mount Pleasant don’t have a week. There’s a good chance it’s already too late.”
“Well there you go,” Luke replied with his mouth full of food. “It’s going to take a day or two to get down there and that’s if we don’t get stopped on the way. Getting up and heading out isn’t as easy as it used to be. The roads are clogged up with vehicles. The hills and forests are full of desperate survivors who will slit you from ear to ear it if means they can get what you have. No, it’s madness. Pure madness.”
Sam wasn’t going to listen to this. He exited the house and headed in the direction of the armory. Whether he could gain access to it was another thing entirely. Outside the armory, one guy sat in a chair near the doorway. They didn’t keep more than one person watching over weapons because until now, everyone had agreed and accepted the new terms of usage.
“Hold up, Sam, where are you going?” Nick Palamaro put one hand up.
“Getting what I need.”
“For?”
“None of your business.”
He shifted in front of Sam. “Do you have permission?”
“Yeah.”
“By whom?”
“Look, are we going to dick around here or are you going to let me get a gun and some ammo?”
“Fo
r what?”
“Helping out with security.”
His brow knit together. “I don’t recall your name being assigned to security at the last meeting.”
“It wasn’t. But they’ve had to shift things around because someone is sick.”
“Who?”
Sam groaned. “Really? Go and ask. I don’t have time for this. You are holding me up. I was meant to be ready for my shift ten minutes ago. Let me in.”
Nick pulled a handheld radio from his side and called over to central communications. It was a booth manned by two guys. They monitored security communications and those who had been assigned the job of police in the community. Hank along with others had tried to get the town back to what it was before the shit hit the fan. Not that it worked but he had tried. Anyway, they were the first ones to alert Hank to any breaches, newcomers, trouble or general discord.
“Central, come in. This is Nick, I have Sam.”
Before he finished what he had to say, Sam struck him on the side of the head. He collapsed to the ground and all that could be heard over his radio was, “Nick?”
Sam didn’t waste any time; he snagged the keys off Nick’s belt and unlocked the door to the armory. He grabbed up a bag and filled it with two Sig Sauer P226s, an AR-15 and several boxes of ammo. He tossed in a hunting knife and a bulletproof vest and then zipped it all up. Next stop would be grabbing a truck. No sooner had he finished collecting what he needed when he turned around and found three security officers pointing their rifles at him.
“Put the bag down and step back.”
“Look, I don’t want any trouble. I just—”
“I said put the bag down,” they moved in on him and acted as though he was just another petty criminal. After he dropped it, they lunged at him and threw him to the ground. Within a matter of seconds, they had his hands cuffed.
The sterile steel bench inside the jail cell was cold and hard. They hadn’t used them since the Commander had been operating. He’d been staring up at the ceiling for what seemed like hours before the door opened. Murphy stepped inside and looked back at the guard.