“I’m not willing to put my people at risk like that, doctor.”
Broussard grimaced. “That’s just it, Captain. Once the generator is running, your people won’t be in any danger. As long as they are within range of the frequency being broadcast, any infected will be lulled into a state that appears…almost drugged. They have no desire to attack or…” He sighed and looked to Carol. “Your people are safe as long as the generator is operating.”
“I’ll need more than your word on that, doctor.”
Broussard looked to the soldier on the rooftop. “Would you be willing to attest to their activity?”
The soldier shook his head. “They’re all standing around slobbering on themselves. That doesn’t mean they won’t bite a chunk out of your ass if you are in sight.”
Broussard blew his breath out hard then keyed the radio again. “Very well, Captain. I’ll give you and your men the proof you desire.” He looked at the soldier again. “You have a way to record images, oui?”
The soldier tapped the small camera mounted to the side of his helmet. “I’m broadcasting now.”
“Excellent.” He handed him back the radio. “Keep the camera pointed at the subjects below.”
Broussard turned and headed for the roof access door. The soldier stiffened and stepped to intercept. “Hey! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“To give you and your captain the proof he desires.” Broussard looked to Carol and smiled. “If you would be so kind as to broadcast my interaction with the infected, I think my point will be made.”
“I can’t let you go down there, Doc.” The soldier grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. “Part of my objective is to keep you safe.”
Broussard gave him a knowing smile. “Trust me, I’ll be safer down there than you could imagine.”
He pulled his arm free and opened the door. “I can’t effectively cover you from this vantage point, doc. You’ll be on your own.”
“All the better to prove my point.”
Carol watched as the door shut behind him. The soldier looked to her and shook his head. “He’s either very brave or very stupid.”
“He’s the smartest man you’ll ever meet.” She stepped to the edge of the roof and waited for Broussard to exit the building.
After what seemed entirely too long he stepped into the street, followed by a half dozen infected, slowly stumbling toward the generator. Broussard walked slowly but assuredly between the infected.
Carol found her breath caught in her throat as the doctor stepped directly in front of an infected and waved his hand in front of the man’s face. The creature’s head turned to follow the waving hand but once Broussard stopped, the creature turned his attention back to the speakers.
Carol watched as Broussard stared up to the roofline and gave an animated shrug. She turned to the soldier. “Is that proof enough?”
The man sighed heavily then leaned over the edge. “You made your point, Doc. Get your ass back up here.”
Broussard gave the pair a beaming smile then walked back toward the doors. The soldier keyed his coms. “Did you get that central?” She watched him nod his head slightly. “Forward to Captain Proctor…with the recommendation to implement the doc’s plan.”
He turned to Carol and sighed. “I sure hope this works on all of the infected. If just one man gets killed doing this…”
She gave him a confused look. “What?”
He shook his head and turned away from her. “Skipper’s looking for any reason to napalm these sick freaks and be done with it.” He shot her a furtive glance. “I can’t say that I blame him, either.”
Simon topped off the tank on the big black dually and pulled the siphoning hose from the tank of the dormant semi. He continued to spit the oily fuel from his mouth and wiped his hands across his shirt.
As he climbed into the new truck he sighed under the blast of the air conditioner. “I could LIVE in this thing.” He closed his eyes for a moment then pulled the gear selector into drive.
He rolled the beast of a truck slowly through town, his mind playing different options, each of which had him coming out as the victor. He slowed the truck at the intersection where the Ragers had been chewing on some unfortunate bastard’s leg and stared into the shadows. “I know you’re out there. You really ought to show yourselves.”
He set his pistol in the cupholder and idled through the intersection, his mind still trying to decide his next move.
“If those ungrateful shitheads want a place to call home, we could all move into those empty houses.” He stared in the direction of the addition he was set up in. “There’s plenty of empty houses….” he trailed off.
“It’s not fair. Those are my people.” He looked up into the rearview mirror and yelled at his reflection. “MY PEOPLE!”
He slammed his hand on the steering wheel and braked the big truck. “I need my people back. Fuck them Cagers.”
He didn’t catch the hypocrisy of his statement since he was now, technically, a “Cager”. To a biker, anybody not riding on two wheels in the open air was a Cager…trapped in a steel cage.
The realization struck him as he turned the solidly built truck around and headed back into town. He chuckled at himself and cranked the air conditioning up higher. “Fuck it. So now I’m one, too.” He turned the truck and tried to find his way back to the compound the Cagers were set up in.
“In the immortal words of some old Bible guy, ‘Let my people go!’”
Chapter 24
Hatcher’s head spun around as the concussive blast struck the side of the building. Women screamed and children wailed as dust, dirt and debris settled over the wall and fell into the courtyard.
Hatcher snatched the radio from the cradle and pressed the button. “What the hell was that? Is anybody hurt?”
The radio
