100 Days in Deadland (Deadland Saga, #1)(91)

Clutch walked over to one of the five body bags and unzipped it, frowned, then rezipped it.

Tyler rubbed his temples. “Lendt had coffee every morning with the civilian leadership council. These guys knew exactly when and where to hit.”

“What’s the status on the Dogs, Captain?” Clutch asked, all business.

“Unaccounted for,” Tyler replied. “I need every troop out there looking for who did this. I can’t trust the civilians. They’d turn this hunt into a lynch mob.”

“You can count on us,” I said.

Tyler smiled weakly. “I know. Griz is on point. Go see him at the chow hall for your assigned sectors. You’re relieved.”

He turned and walked off, leaving the three of us standing alone.

“I guess Tyler’s in charge now,” I said quietly.

“C’mon,” Clutch said and he led the way back down the hall and through the agitated crowd, several of whom threw us distrusting glares. When we reached the cafeteria, Griz was standing with Smitty. Both looked exhausted, though Smitty looked more tense than usual.

“Perfect timing,” Griz said. “Jase, you’re with Smitty. He’ll fill you in.”

“Yes, sir,” Jase said and jogged to catch up with the slender, clean-cut soldier heading outside.

“Where do you need us?” Clutch asked before I could.

Griz turned and pointed at a spot on the map laid out across the table. “I’ve broken the Camp into sectors. We’re too short-staffed, so every pair gets two sectors. You guys have sectors thirty-one and thirty-two, but stay together. Whatever you do, don’t split up. Since everyone’s been accounted for, the traitor is still walking around. If you find the Dogs, we need them alive to interrogate them.”

“Understood,” Clutch said. “That it?”

He handed Clutch a radio. “Let’s find those f*ckers.”

Clutch and I headed out. Sectors thirty-one and thirty-two were on the far edge of the base so we drove there. We silently walked through buildings and examined every shadow, finding nothing. The Dogs should’ve been on their way back to Doyle by now. It made no sense for them to stick around after their job was done.

I smelled a familiar stench and stopped cold. I narrowed my eyes at the shadows near the outer fence. “What’s that?”

Clutch took slow steps closer while I held my rifle at the ready.

I lingered until he got down on a knee and I came closer.

I kicked at the two zeds—one male, one female—tied together. They watched us, their mouths taped shut and their hands cut off. Each zed was cut wide open, with entrails oozing out. The stench was horrible, though they’d been open for long enough for some of the horrendous odor to dissipate. “What the hell is going on?” I asked.

“No f*cking clue.” Clutch stood, raised his rifle, and finished the two zeds.

These zeds were connected to Dogs, somehow. “Why would someone order a zed delivery here?” I thought aloud. “And why the hell would someone cut them open?”

Having zeds inside the Camp was dangerous enough, especially if they got free and leaked their infectious goo all over the place.

I took a step back. “Oh, shit.”

“What is it?” he asked.

“The Dogs aren’t done yet. They’re going to spread the infection.”





Chapter XXX


Clutch and I looked at each other.

We left the stinking corpses and took off running back to the truck.

A blast detonated in the distance, and smoke rose from the direction of HQ.

My heart pounded. “No!”

We raced back to find soot-covered people pouring out of the building. Many were injured and wet with blood. Clutch slammed on the brakes just as Griz and several troops ran toward the building. I jumped out and yanked Griz back. “Anyone who got hit with shrapnel is infected!”

Griz’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

I pointed at the building. “They used zed-soaked grenades!”

His eyes widened. “Are you sure? You’ve got to be f*cking sure about this.”

Clutch came up. “Yeah, Griz. They’re using dirty bombs.”


The soldier muttered out a string of curses before raising his handheld radio. “This is Griz. Anyone injured by the grenade blast is infected. You are ordered to eliminate anyone injured. Repeat. Kill anyone injured. Over.”

Chatter erupted on the radio.

Repeat last.

Say again.

You’re joking, right?

Griz sighed. “You heard me right! I’m not f*cking with you! The Dogs used dirty bombs, goddammit. Kill the injured!”

“God help us all,” Griz said and opened fire on survivors.

Screams erupted. People went berserk, running wildly away from us, seeking shelter.

I raised my rifle. My hands shook. My aim needed to be right. I took a deep breath and sought out the most injured. They would turn first.

I fired.

A woman holding her bloody stomach fell. From my side, Clutch fired into the crowd. The sounds of more gunfire from both sides filled the air.

I took down a man with a head wound. Then a kid getting trampled in the chaos that had overtaken the Camp.

As if spooked by something, people switched directions and starting running toward us.