Shooter downshifted and tried to increase his speed on the straightaway. He glanced back at Sinner and prayed the man survived. They were going to need him if they ever hoped to get rid of Simon.
Chapter 2
Hatcher stood at the gate, his rifle at the ready. “Any idea how many?”
Hank shook his head. “There are dozens who could have crawled off, Hatch. But I’m guessing there’s at least fifty dead just here by the staging gates.”
Roger sighed as he lifted the feet of another dead Zulu and swung him into the back of the truck. “I used to work crowds before I went undercover. If I had to estimate the size of the force that showed up, I’d put it at around two hundred, two-fifty.”
“So, there’s potentially another two hundred Zulus out there, waiting for us.”
Roger shrugged. “I’m sure there are more. That was just the force that struck last night.” He kicked at the body at his feet. “Now that they’re up close and personal, I see what you mean about them starving to death.” He pointed to the next one on the pile. “This guy is so emaciated, we probably did him a mercy by putting him down.”
Hatcher hunkered low and studied the body in front of him. “I’m betting money they’ll be back.”
Wally came trudging into the staging area with three other men. “They cut the fabric on the fence.” He dropped the roll of wire he had been carrying and stretched his lower back. “We patched it up as best as we could, but…if they hit us with any strength again, it won’t stop them.”
Hatcher nodded as he came to his feet. “Let’s not worry about hauling the dead too far off. I want people to focus on packing and us getting the hell out of here.”
Roger stiffened and eyed the other men before speaking. “You sure that’s such a swell idea, Hatch?” He stood up and stretched his back. “Don’t misunderstand, I love the retirement place, but…that wall? It’s only ten foot tall at best.”
Hatcher nodded. “With sentries, it’ll be safe enough.”
Roger slowly shook his head. “I dunno man. If they come at us with two hundred bodies?” He glanced at Wally. “How high did they stack the dead before they started climbing over?”
Wally shrugged. “Three, maybe four feet.”
“Hatch, this fence is a twelve footer.”
Hatcher turned and raised his voice. “I know what you’re getting at, Rog. But let’s face it…the water tank is damned near empty…if it isn’t already. We may be surviving on the remnants of what’s in the line.”
Roger blew his breath out hard and stepped away from the bodies. He lowered his head and practically whispered, “So we beef up things at the new place. Maybe we find a fence company here in town and raid them. We put up a primary fence…another chain link, like this one. That way they have two barriers to get through before they get to us.”
“Like a prison.”
Roger nodded. “Yeah, like a prison.”
Hatcher blew his breath out hard and pointed back into the warehouse. “We have families here. Kids. Would you want to raise a kid in a prison?”
Roger shook his head. “But it’s not a prison. And until these things starve out or overtake us, I’d rather have my family safe than worry about how something ‘appears’ to the kids.”
Hatcher nodded, knowing he made sense. “Yeah.” He stood up and squared his shoulders. “Yeah, I know you’re right.”
“What’s gotten into you man? Security was your main focus for so long and now…”
Hatcher sighed heavily and raised a brow at him. “I just…I was hoping that this new place would bring us one step closer.” He took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “One step closer to the way things used to be.”
Roger placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “It will. Trust me, man. You aren’t the only one that wishes things were like they used to be.” He watched as the men continued to load the bodies that blocked the staging area. “But first we have to make sure there are people left to actually save before we worry about putting things right.”
Hatcher nodded then clapped the man’s back. “I’m just tired. It’s been a long day and…” He turned slowly and pointed himself toward his office. “I just need some rest.”
“You and me both, brother.” Roger gave him a mock salute. “I’ll let you know when we’re done.”
Roger watched Hatcher saunter off then turned back to the men loading bodies. “Things will be better. You’ll see.”
Carol nearly jumped when the lights went out and the battery-powered red lights came up. The alarm klaxon that echoed through the ship set her nerves on edge. “What the—?”
The sailors called the voice that came over the speakers the “1MC.” It shook her to her core. “Response teams assemble aft of the mess decks. Infected personnel located in forward gear locker.”
Carol heard sailors running through the hallways, banging and clanging as they prepared to engage Vivian. She nearly jumped again when Broussard sat up in his chair and stared at her, wide eyed.
A short scream escaped her mouth as he jumped to his feet. He spun and stared at her. “What did they say?”
Carol let out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “What?”
“What did they say over the intercom?”
“Oh, uh…that they spotted Vivian in a forward gear locker. I think.”
Broussard pulled open the lab door. “Non! This is a trap!” He stepped into the hallway and was nearly run over by a three-man team with rifles and riot gear.
Carol appeared at his side. “Why would you say that? She’s infected. Surely she isn’t cognizant enough to design a trap.”
Broussard’s face was pale as he turned to her. “She would not allow herself to be captured in a room. She would find a…” He turned slowly and stared at the ventilation duct that opened high on the wall. “How big is that?”
Carol
