100-Days-in-Deadland(74)

Lendt came to his feet. “Sergeant Nicholas Lee has volunteered to lead your defense. I’ll have a tribunal scheduled for the day after tomorrow. No need to delay this messy business, but you have my word that you’ll be treated fairly.”

Tyler followed Lendt out of the room.

I frowned. This was an interrogation? No questions about why I’d done it?

“This way.”

Griz stood in the doorway, motioning to me, and I rose and followed him, feeling as though my doom was already sealed. Numbness coated my thoughts as they escorted me out the other side of the building and across a wide sidewalk to a low one-story building. Inside, the short hallway was lined with several cell doors and more hallways, though I could hear no one else nearby. They put me into the first tiny, windowless cell with a narrow bed and a steel latrine and sink.

“Hold still for a moment,” Griz said just before I felt a tug and the plastic restraint snapped free. I rubbed my wrists and faced the two soldiers as one shut the steel door.

Tack faced me through the bars in the door’s window. “The bastard got what he deserved,” he said before disappearing, leaving me alone in my cell.

I collapsed onto the bed and stared at the gray ceiling. How had everything gone to shit so quickly?

Silence boomed off the walls in response.

I thought of Jase. He knew people here. They could look out for him.

But Clutch…

For all I knew, he was lying dead in that zed pit right now.

The sound of boot steps echoing down the hallway brought me back, and I pulled myself up and walked toward the door in time to meet the driver from the Humvee.

He was looking to his left. “Open up.”

“I can’t, sir,” an unfamiliar voice said. “Colonel’s orders. He said the prisoner is a flight risk.”

Nick rolled his eyes before turning to me. “Hi, Cash. I’m Sergeant Nick Lee.”

“I remember,” I replied. “Good to see you again.”

“I’ll represent you at your trial. Since you already admitted to the murder, I think our best defense is to prove that there was no premeditation, and, therefore, this wasn’t first-degree murder. That way, you’ll just get time in the brig, and the death sentence gets ruled out.”

I watched him for a moment. “Why are you helping me, Nick?”

He shrugged, and then lowered his voice. “I’ve seen some shit. Bad things that have happened to women and men. We’ve all heard rumors. If you said both you and your friend saw this guy hurt a girl, I believe it. Now, if we can get your friend to testify, it will help your cause. The fact that he’s a veteran is even better.” He paused for a moment. “But, honestly, I don’t think we’ll be able to get him here for the trial.”

Not that I was surprised. Still, having my thoughts spoken aloud burned. “Can’t Lendt order him to come to the Camp?”

“Sure, but I don’t think it will do any good. Colonel Lendt ordered Doyle to come to the Camp after Masden filled him in, and Doyle hasn’t shown up yet.” Nick grinned. “And, Colonel Lendt doesn’t take kindly to being screwed with. I think he’s finally going to make Doyle come to heel and break up the militia.”

“Watch out for Doyle,” I said, a rock forming in my gut.

“What’s he going to do? Attack Camp Fox?” He smirked. “Don’t worry. We have many times the resources and firepower that Doyle’s got. We’re safe enough here. Let’s start prepping for your trial. Start at the beginning, and tell me everything.”

****

Several hours later, I woke, sweating and heart racing. I dreamed that Clutch was in the room with me. Except that he was a zed.

A siren pierced the night’s silence, and I lunged to the door. “What’s going on?” I called out, hoping someone was nearby.

“Echo Four reporting in, requesting status. Over.”

The soldier’s voice was to my right, but I couldn’t see him around the corner.

“All units report immediately to assigned defense points. Camp Fox is under attack. Zed Alert. Code Five. This is not a drill. Over.”

The voice on the radio repeated the message two more times before my guard stepped in front of my door, his eyes wide.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

He stared at me for a moment, and then took off running. A door opened and closed. Then silence.

“Damn it,” I muttered, kicking at my door. Without any visible doorknob or hinges, all I could do was shove at the door, but it was solid steel. Still I tried. Trying was better than accepting that I’d die in this tomb, either from starvation or when the zeds would finally find me. I turned and walked over to the bed. Pulled at the frame but it was screwed into the concrete floor. I returned to the door. After long minutes of kicking, a door opened somewhere. Buried under the piercing siren, I heard gunfire and screams.