Skull's Shadows (Plague Wars Series) Page 8

  “I can do all of this if I choose and there wouldn’t be a thing you could do to stop me,” said Skull with a smile. “I really don’t want to do these…terrible things, but I can.”

  “Oh, you sick bastard,” said Wallace trying unsuccessfully to struggle out of Skull’s grasp.

  “So, you have to ask yourself one question.”

  “What question?”

  Skull whispered in the man’s ear. “Is this really the sort of man I want to fuck with?” He then kissed Wallace gently on the cheek and released him, sitting back in his seat.

  Wallace stared at him incredulously, frozen and shaking.

  “Hey, isn’t it Wednesday?” asked Skull. “I think Daryl’s has half price wings and pitchers of beer on Wednesdays. Why don’t we go by there after work, partner?”

  The big man began driving again and didn’t say another word as he stared straight ahead.

  When they arrived at the station, Wallace walked right into the sheriff’s office and slammed the door. His bellows and hollering could be heard throughout the adjoining offices. Skull sat down in Wallace’s chair behind the big man’s desk while he threw a slim dagger up in the air and caught it by the tip again and again. He wasn’t really as good with a knife as he was with a rifle, but he’d found that blades made a greater impression somehow.

  The other policemen in the office shifted their gazes uncomfortably between Skull and the Sheriff’s office. Finally the door flew open and Wallace stormed out. Spotting Skull sitting at his desk, he strode over to stand over the thin man.

  “Get out of my chair, you piece of filth.”

  Skull picked up the family photo on Wallace’s desk and tapped the glass with the tip of his dagger. “Your wife really is beautiful. I’m surprised you can stand to leave her alone every day.”

  Wallace began to shake as if there were an earthquake at the station, one that only he could feel. Red-faced, he stormed away.

  “You,” yelled the Sheriff, pointing at Skull. “Get in here.”

  Skull got up and walked into the office, closing the door behind him.

  “Did you really tell Wallace that you would rape and kill his family?”

  “Of course not.”

  The Sheriff sighed and leaned back.

  “I told him I would rape and possibly kill his wife. I only threatened to murder his two girls.”

  The Sheriff looked at him with wide eyes before asking. “Would you really do that?”

  “Hmm. It depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On whether you told me to or not.”

  A smile grew and spread across the Sheriff’s face. “So, you’re just screwing with Wallace?”

  “No more than he’s screwing with me,” explained Skull, “but you don’t see me coming in here to spill my whiny tears on your nice clean desk. Maybe he shouldn’t bring every little interpersonal problem to you, boss. You’re a busy man with a lot going on.”

  “He is my nephew, he ain’t that bad.”

  Skull shrugged. “But I am.” He sighed theatrically. “Why can’t we all just get along?”

  The Sheriff released a more genuine sigh, putting his hand to his head. “I need to know you’re not going to go off the rails on me.”

  I got you right where I want you, you stupid shit, thought Skull. None of the other deputies had the guts for the sheriff’s little jobs, and he knew it. Still, seeming reasonable and giving the man the illusion of control was imperative.

  Skull leaned forward on the desk with a friendly smile. “Boss, you don’t have to worry about me. Our initial meeting was a little unorthodox, but you’ve given me nothing but a fair shake since then and I appreciate it. I don’t expect to spend the rest of my life here, but it’s better than anything else I got going on for now. When it’s time for me to go, I’ll come to you like a man and discuss it. I don’t plan on burning any bridges, regardless.”

  The Sheriff relaxed. “Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. Now, I’ve got another one of those special jobs I need you to handle.”

  Skull listened.

  ***

  The train cars were backed into the old rail yard. On either side of the lines Skull saw fenced-in areas with giant Army tents, which housed hundreds of people on cots.

  Skull walked up to a National Guard soldier at the rail yard entrance. “I need to see Captain Boltz. I’m on official business from Sheriff Cox.”

  “Hang on just a second,” the soldier said while he made a call that lasted several seconds. Hanging up, he opened the gate with a key at his belt. “Go on in. It’s the third building on the left.”

  Skull made his way down the corridor between the fenced-in yards. The captive eyes that peered at him from across the wire seemed more curious than desperate. This may be an Eden detention camp, but it’s not as sadistic as the other, he thought. Then again, the average German citizen in 1944 looking at Jews being loaded into boxcars had no inkling of what awaited them at the other end.

  Skull could see men and women climbing up onto flatbed train cars. Soldiers helped them up, and then handed them their belongings. He stopped a passing uniform. “Where’s that train going?”

  The soldiers hesitated, looking at Skull’s uniform and badge before answering. “Maryland. Supposed to be a medical research laboratory there. Trying to find a cure.”

  Maryland, Skull thought as the soldier walked away from him. Viruses are hellishly hard to cure. These folks are going to be dissected and experimented on, and none are volunteers.

  He made his way to the designated third building and, after talking to another soldier, was escorted to the office of Captain Boltz.

  “Yes, can I help you, Deputy?” the man asked.

  “Indeed,” replied Skull. “I’ve been sent by Sheriff Cox. He regrets to inform you that there has been a false positive test.” he pulled out a piece of paperwork with lab results. “It’s rare, but does happen. At least we discovered it now.”

  “Joshua McReynolds,” the captain said. “Are you sure? According to his records, this guy is over sixty, but looks no older than I do.”

  “No doubt about it,” said Skull. “Must be something else. A clerical error. He’s only thirty-five. Good genes.”

  “I don’t know about this,” said the captain, rubbing his head.

  “Doesn’t make any difference to me,” said Skull. “Just wanted to save you some headache. The standing orders are very specific, from my understanding: send only those with a positive XHV result. When a non-infected one arrives there will be questions. If he’s clean, his rights are being violated. Maybe you could count on him getting infected en route, maybe not. Personally, I wouldn’t risk it. It’s not like there’s a quota or anything, right? And how would you feel if it was you?”

  The captain pondered before making up his mind as Skull had hoped. He walked to the door and yelled out, “Sergeant Simmons.”

  A fireplug of a man appeared in front of him as if from thin air.

  “Take the deputy here to get Joshua McReynolds. Release him into this man’s custody.”

  “Sir?”

  “Is there a problem, Sergeant?” Boltz asked.

  “No sir, it’s just...unusual.”

  “Unusual?” Boltz asked. “You mean there something we’re doing out here that is usual? If so, I would really like to know.”

  Simmons snapped to attention. “Roger that, sir. No worries.”

  “Just make sure you get a signature on the release.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” said Skull, shaking the officer’s hand. “This is tough duty you got out here.”

  “It’s a God-forsaken duty,” said the man with sad eyes. “People don’t ask to get sick, most of them.”

  Skull nodded and followed the sergeant out of the building and through another guarded checkpoint into a fenced-off area.

  “I can’t help but notice no one is in biohazard suits,” said Skull to Simmons.

  Skull’s question seemed to loosen t
he man’s tongue. Despite his straight-arrow manner, or perhaps because of it, he spoke quickly and clearly, keeping his eyes to the front. “The CDC has confirmed that XHV is only spread through transfer of bodily fluid. Everything out there about the virus being airborne or getting it from shaking an infectee’s hand is misinformation. You know, like HIV was when they first discovered it. They’ve also confirmed that most animals are unaffected. Close primates like chimps can be carriers, but not dogs and cats and horses. Or rats. This is a human virus. The government is trying to get word out because testing centers are still overwhelmed by people bringing in pets and farm animals.”

  “They’re unaffected until the virus mutates, you mean.”

  Simmons stopped in his tracks at these words and turned to Skull. “Let’s hope to God that if this damn thing mutates we get some warning from CDC.”

  “Just between the two of us,” Skull said, “why is everyone so scared of this thing? From what I’ve seen it doesn’t appear so bad.”

  The stocky man laughed. “That’s the problem. All the benefits are visible and the downsides invisible. That’s one of the reasons it’s so dangerous.”

  “Seriously?” Skull asked feigning ignorance. “What’s wrong with growing young again?”

  “Haven’t you been listening to the reports? Migraines, nightmares, early senility, and over time, brain damage and mental deterioration. Edens become like little children. Can’t even wipe their own asses. Hell, I even read a report yesterday the Plague causes erectile dysfunction and infertility.”

  “No way!” said Skull with a look of horror on his face.

  “Yes,” deadpanned the sergeant. “I can deal with all the other shit, but if I can’t get it up, all my girlfriends would leave me.”

  Skull wasn’t sure if the man was being serious or not. “Now I’m really freaked out.”

  Simmons nodded knowingly and consulted a hanging clipboard before calling out loudly, “Joshua McReynolds. You here?”

  “He’s over there,” said a small, skinny boy. “We’re hungry, sir.”

  Simmons ignored the kid as he and Skull began walking, still outside the fence, to the back of the tent where about two dozen men were clustered sleeping, talking, or playing cards.

  “Mister McReynolds,” Simmons called again.

  A man with dark hair and lean, fit build sat up from a cot and looked at them. Thin like all of the prisoners, with sunken cheeks, he didn’t seem as malnourished as those Skull had seen at the earlier detention camp. All conversation nearby had ceased. “Right here,” McReynolds said.

  “Come with me please, sir,” said Skull, waving him over to the gate.

  The man hesitated, looking at the other men before swinging his legs to the floor and standing. “Am I under arrest, deputy?” he asked.

  “Looks like you’re already under arrest, sir. This is just a transfer of custody.”

  “Words, then,” the man retorted. “Leave me alone.”

  “You sound like a man with a guilty conscience,” said Skull.

  “You’re not wrong,” answered McReynolds.

  Skull stared hard at the man. “Just come with me, sir. Things will be explained soon enough.”

  The prisoner shrugged and met Skull at the gate. From there, they marched to the front exit of the rail yard under the curious eyes of hundreds of captives. There, Sergeant Simmons had Skull sign a release form, which he did without bothering to read. It wasn’t his real name anyway. What did a scribble on a piece of paper matter?

  “Best of luck to you, Deputy,” said Simmons as they walked out.

  McReynolds remained quiet until they got into the police cruiser. “Okay now, Deputy Winslow. What’s this about?”

  After starting the car and easing it out of the parking lot onto the road, Skull replied, “I’m here on behalf of your son-in-law, Sheriff Cox. You’re no longer recorded as an Eden carrier. At least, not in any records around here. You’ve been cleared and released.”

  The man looked at Skull in surprise before finally speaking. “And to think I told my daughter her husband was good for nothing, even if he was the sheriff.”

  “Here,” said Skull pulling a bag from the rear of the vehicle and putting it in the man’s lap. It contained protein shakes and energy bars.

  McReynolds started guzzling down the shakes like a teenager chugging beers on spring break.

  “Easy there,” said Skull putting a hand on his arm. “Too much too fast and you’ll shock your system.”

  “So you know I’m an Eden?”

  “How old are you, sir?”

  The man smiled shyly. “I’m sixty-eight next week.”

  “There you go then,” answered Skull. “You look like a freaking male underwear model.”

  McReynolds chuckled, and then his visage turned serious. “What am I supposed to do? I can’t go home. My neighbors will know right off.”

  “Head southwest,” Skull answered. “Try to get into Texas. They’re allowing Edens in and aren’t persecuting them.”

  “Texas,” the man answered. “This is my home. I grew up here. All my family is here. I hate Texas.”

  “Well, I suggest you keep that opinion to yourself once in the Lone Star State,” said Skull. “From my experience, if you made a statement like that, even before the current apocalypse, it would have earned you a serious ass-beating by some proud native sons.”

  “But Texas?” asked the man. “Can’t I just hide out in my cellar for a few weeks until this blows over?”

  Skull stared hard at the man. “Tell me, are you stupid? Or just in denial?”

  “I don’t reckon I appreciate bein’ talked to like that.”

  “How about if I throw you back in the camp there?” Skull asked. “That train is headed to a research facility where they are going to dissect Eden carriers. Do you like the idea of that?”

  “Not particularly,” McReynolds answered, looking away.

  “This isn’t blowing over. Not for years, if ever. You'd better do as I say,” said Skull. “You can either stay here and die, or go to Texas and live.”

  McReynolds’ chin rested on his chest for several moments before looking back. “Okay. Doesn’t seem like I got much choice.”

  “Glad to see you’re not stupid after all,” Skull said pulling a rucksack from behind the seat and setting it in the man’s lap on top of the first bag. “Go through everything in this pack and get familiar with it.”

  “What’s in it?”

  Skull sighed in exasperation. “Didn’t I just tell you to go through it? It’s got everything you’ll need to survive. I know because I packed it myself. If there’s anything in there you don’t recognize or don’t know how it works, tell me. I’ll explain it while we’re driving.”

  “You’re driving me to Texas?”

  “Not all the way,” Skull answered, “but I’ll get you started. It’s important you show up looking a little worn, otherwise they might not believe your story.”

  “What story?”

  “Buckle up,” Skull said. “I’ll tell you everything as we drive.”

  McReynolds cracked open another protein shake and chugged it as they rolled southwest toward his freedom.

  Where’s my freedom? Skull wondered idly. Where does this all end?

  Chapter 12

  Skull walked into the sheriff’s station the next morning to find most of the deputies and staff gathered around the wall-mounted widescreen. Skull thought it odd that neither the Sheriff nor Wallace were in attendance. He looked over at the Sheriff’s office and saw the door closed, which usually happened only when he was having a private meeting.

  “What’s going on?” Skull asked no one in particular.

  The young secretary, Shirley, who had been trying to flirt with Skull on and off, rushed over and grabbed him by the arm. “You haven’t heard the news?”

  “What news? We’ve all been given raises?”

  “Not likely,” answered another deputy without looking at th
em.

  Shirley looked confused and shook her head. “No, not a raise, at least not that I know of. It’s about Texas. They’ve really crossed the line this time. There’ll be hell to pay soon.”

  “It’s coming on,” said someone. “Quiet.”

  The screen showed a dignified, middle-aged man with a strong jaw. Underneath his picture the national news network’s caption read, “Texas Governor Bret Tucker Addresses State Legislature.”

  “Good morning my fellow citizens of the Republic of Texas and of the United States.” Tucker made it sound as if those were two different categories. “As you know, several months ago the President of the United States issued an executive order implementing martial law. Part of these measures included mandatory testing for the so-called Eden Plague, or XHV. There were immediately hundreds of lawsuits brought before Texas courts, and several were referred to the United States Supreme Court, but that august body has remained mute since this crisis began, failing to fulfill its constitutionally mandated role to exercise checks and balances upon the overwhelming power of the Executive Branch.”

  The governor paused and looked at the camera. “The Republic of Texas made the decision to suspend mandatory testing until a proper legal decision was rendered by the Supreme Court. This decision was not made to defy the President or the federal government, but simply to protect the citizens of this great state, where all are innocent until proven guilty of crimes beyond a reasonable doubt by juries of their peers.”

  Tucker rustled his papers and went on. “In the absence of a U.S. Supreme Court ruling, this matter was referred to the Republic of Texas Supreme Court and I pledged to abide by their ruling, enforced by the full powers of my office. Last night that esteemed group of fellow Texans returned a unanimous ruling.”

  Clearing his throat, the governor lowered his reading glasses to the end of his nose and peered through them. “The nine men and women of our highest court ruled that mandatory medical testing is, in effect, an unlawful search and therefore unconstitutional under the Fourth Amendment to the Constitution of the Unites States, guaranteeing all Americans’ right to privacy and security of their residences, papers and persons. Furthermore, they have ruled that mandatory testing sets a dangerous precedent for infringing upon those selfsame rights. You may all read the full verdict posted on the state capital website, but as of this moment, no person within the borders of Texas will be required to undergo testing for XHV. Free testing will remain available, but on a voluntary basis only.”