Dead Team Alpha: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller (7 page)

“
Is he awake?” Val asks.

“
Your dad?” Marsh replies. “Yeah, he’s awake. Come on, I’ll take you to him.”

“Ah, just give us the keys,” Stanford says.
“We know the way.”

“I wouldn’t give you my keys even if it meant saving my life,” Marsh says.

“What, don’t trust me? What if I told you I’m now the TL for one of the elite Teams in the Stronghold?” Stanford says. “Thousands of lives are in my hands.”

“
Elite? You’re TL for DTB Two,” Marsh says. “Not exactly elite.” He smiles and nods at Val. “And congratulations to you. You’ll kick ass with DTA, which
is
an elite Team.”

“Thanks, Sheriff,” Val says. “Hard to be excited when I have to deal with shit like this.”

“Hey!” Stanford says. Val frowns at him. “Oh, you meant your dad, sorry.”

“Come on,” Marsh sighs. “Let’s go see the
old fucker.”

Bone thin with shoulders almost as wide as he is tall, Sheriff Marsh looks to many like a scarecrow that’s lost its stuffing, right down to the worn jeans and patched work shirts he wears. He twirls the key ring on one of his long fingers and whistles a random tune as he leads Val and Stanford back to the holding cells.
A town, built on military systems and discipline, the holding cells rarely have anyone in them, leaving plenty of space for the few repeat offenders like Collin Baptiste.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ward!” Val snaps. “Why the hell is he naked? Couldn’t you give him a jumpsuit or something?”

“I did,” Marsh says as he unlocks the holding cell and steps to the side. “He pissed in it. Didn’t feel he derived a second chance.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Collin growls. “I don’t need you here.”

“Good to see you too, Dad,” Val says. “Get up. We’re taking you home.”

“Don’t wanna go,” Collin says, folding his arms across his chest. “I like it right here.”

“You’re going home to get showered and dressed,” Val states. “That way, you’ll be presentable when we try to find you a job.”

“A what?” Collin asks.

“A what?” Marsh echoes.

“A what?” Stanford adds, not wanting to be left out.

“A job,” Val says. “Doesn’t matter what it is. Probably only thing I can find you is working the septic crew, but at least that’ll get the ration tickets Juney Belle and Harmon will need.”

“You’ve lost your mind, girl,” Collin chuckles. “I ain’t workin’ no fucking shitter job. And what’s this about Juney
Belle? That cunt can go fuck herself.”

The
space between Val and her father disappears in a blink. She’s in his face, her eyes boring into his, her finger jammed against his chest.

“Ow, Val, stop it,” Collin says, sounding more like a wounded kid than a father.

“Does that hurt?” Val asks as she jabs him again. “Good. Think of it as a taste of what’s possible. You will get a job, you will hand over your ration tickets to Juney Belle, and you will stay off the hooch. Or I will fuck you up so bad that Hamish has to hook you to a tube and bag so you can piss. You understand me, old man?”

Plenty of responses cross Collin’s mind, but for
once, he does the smart thing and just nods. Anyone else and he would have laughed, but the look in his daughter’s eyes is too much to fight. His late wife would get the same look, and despite the rage fueling that look, he can’t help but miss it.

“Ward? Can we get another jumpsuit, please?” Val asks without taking her eyes from her father. “I’ll make sure it’s washed and brought back tomorrow morning. Won’t I, Dad?”

“It’ll be here tomorrow morning,” Collin agrees.

“Be right back,” Marsh says.

“Your daughter made DTA, Uncle Collin,” Stanford says. “I’m the new TL for DTB Two.”

“Good for you, son,” Collin says, his attention still taken up by his daughter that refuses to remove herself from his face. “And you too, Val. Proud of you both.”

Val snorts and shakes her head.

“
What?” Collin asks, his breath rank and reminiscent of week old corn and vomit. “A father can’t be proud?”

“A father has to be a father first,” Val says.

“Yeah, well... Oh, thanks, Ward.”

“
Don’t thank me, Baptiste,” Marsh says as he tosses a faded orange jumpsuit at Collin.  “Thank Juney Belle for not pressing charges. You got lucky, got it? Lifelong friends or not, dipshit, next time, I’ll have to put you before the tribunal. That happens and you won’t be walking out of here again for a long time.”

“No need for threats, Ward,” Collin says. “It was all a misunderstanding.”

“A ninety-two stitch misunderstanding,” Marsh says. “No more, Collin Baptiste. No more.”

“I’ll make sure of that,” Val says. “Come on, Dad
, time to look for work.”

Sheriff Marsh steps aside and lets the three pass by, watching them as they walk down the hall and out of the holding cell area. He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Fucking Baptiste’ll be the death of me.”

“I heard that, you old fart!” Collin calls out.

***

“Wait, I need to clean up first,” Collin says as his daughter drags him to the house next to theirs. “Just let me grab a whore’s bath, Val.”

“You’ll apologize and tell Juney Belle that you are going to replace the ration tickets they are losing because of what you did,” Val says, knocking on the front door as Stanford takes a seat on the curb out front. “Stand up straight and look like a man.”

“No need to talk like that,” Collin grumbles. “I’m your father and I-”

“Don’t start,” Val says as the door opens. “Hey, Juney Belle.”

“Val,” Juney
Belle nods. The weak smile on her face fades quickly as she sees Collin. “Oh…you.”

“My dad has something to say,” Val says. “Don’t you, Dad?”

“Val’s making me get a job and give you all my ration tickets,” Collin says. “And I have to stop drinking the hooch or Ward is going to put me in front of the tribunal.”

“And?” Val prompts.

“And what?” Collin asks. The two women stare at him. “Right, yeah, sorry for what I did to Harmon.”

“Can I see him?” Val asks.

“He’s sleeping,” Juney Belle says, her eyes sending waves of hate towards Collin. “Maybe later.”

“I’m probably going to have to work the shitter tanks,” Collin says. “Hope you’re happy.”

“Hit him,” Val says. “I’ll back you up.”

“Funny,” Collin says.

“Not kidding,” Val says, looking at Juney Belle. “Need me to hold him? You can have one free shot to the face or a couple to the gut. I’d suggest face, since hitting him in the gut could produce results neither of us want to witness.”

“Hey
, now,” Collin protests. “This isn’t cool. Not at-.”

His head rocks back as Juney
Belle slams her fist into his nose. They both give a cry as Juney Belle pulls her hand back, shaking it, while Collin clamps a hand to his bleeding nose.

“You okay?” Val asks Juney
Belle.

“I’m fine,” Juney
Belle says. “Thanks, Val. I do feel better. But keep your asshole of a father away from us, okay? Next time, I go for the gut. With a knife.”

“Understood,” Val nods. “Give my best to Harmon and tell him how sorry I am.” She grabs her father’s arm a
nd pulls him from the doorway. “Come on, you have a job interview to get to.”

Stanford stands and looks at his uncle’s face.

“That’s bullshit, Val,” Stanford says. “Next time you are letting people hit your dad, you sure as shit better make sure I get to witness it.”

“It was spontaneous,” Val says. “Seemed like the right thing to do at the time.
He needed a lesson.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m a child,” Collin says.

The two cousins look at each other and shake their heads.

“Too easy,” Stanford says.

“Like picking low hanging fruit,” Val says. “Let’s get inside and get junior here cleaned up and dressed. I want this day to be done with so I can get in some chill time before tomorrow.”

“And make yourself smell all pretty for Doctor Love,” Stanford says.
“I know you’re gonna try to sneak off for a pre-mission fuck.”

“I am not,” Val snaps. “I’m not going to blow my shot at DTA.”

“You still screwing that dork?” Collin asks as they step inside the Baptiste home. “Little nerdy twerp. Never liked him.”

“Which makes him perfect,” Val says. “You liking someone is an instant red flag.”

***

“Fuck,” Stanford sighs, his feet up on the patio table as he and Val sit out back, waiting for Collin to be done getting ready. “My face really fucking hurts.”

“Being a punching bag for Cole Wright will do that,” Val says.

“He didn’t have to give me such a fucking beat down,” Stanford complains. “I think I was done after hit number five.”

“Quit griping,” Val smiles. “You’re the new TL for DTB Two. That’s not something you expected when you got up this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stanford says. “You and your fucking bright side.”

Val looks down at her feet and the two large duffel bags filled to bursting with her gear. She glances around her at the house she’s lived in her entire life. There have been stretches at the Team barracks, but being on a Beta Team meant she didn’t have to live there full time, but DTA is different. Always on call, always ready to hit the shithole of Denver at a moment’s notice.

“Worried about leaving him on his own?” Stanford asks. “And don’t lie. You’re a shit liar.”

“Wouldn’t you be worried?” Val replies. “You should be. This whole town should be. Collin Baptiste left to his own devices is scarier than an alley full of Zs.”

“But at least I smell better,” Collin says from behind the screen door. He pushes it open and walks onto the porch, tucking in his mostly clean shirt. “Now.”

“Let’s go,” Val says. “I have to be at the barracks by 1700. It’s already 1300. Daylight is burning.”

“And there are those promised beers,” Stanford says.

“Beers?” Collin asks.

“Not for you,” Val says.

“I’m not taking a shitter crew job,” Collin states.

Val picks up her duffel bags and hands one to Stanford as he gets up from his chair. He starts to protest, but stops when he sees the look in her eyes.

“We all do our part, Uncle Collin,” Stanford says. “Every person counts.”

“Don’t give me that propaganda bullshit,” Collin snaps. “I served my time
supporting the Teams, just like every able bodied person in this place. Did my two years as a Runner and got the fuck out. Why? Because not every person counts. We’re fucking numbers, kid. That’s all. Just numbers to bolster the Us versus Them war that won’t ever end.”

“It’ll end,” Val says. “One
day, we’ll wipe out the Zs. Then we won’t need the Teams.”

“Great,” Collin laughs. “You two will be unemployed and can join me on the shitter crew.” He shakes his head. “It’ll never end, Valencia
, so get that through your head, okay? Maybe Denver gets cleared, but it’ll fill back up as more Zs migrate west. The East Coast still has millions and millions of undead all ready to go on a road trip.” Val starts to speak, but her father cuts her off. “And you think all the fucking crazies out there are going to just go sane all of a sudden? It’ll never end. So don’t get your hopes up.”

Stanford can see the struggle on Val’s face and he nudges her with his elbow as he walks to the porch steps. “Daylight’s burning, right? Let’s get Mr. Sunshine signed up and get you settled into the barracks. I’m sure your new Team has all kinds of fun and games planned for you.”

“And you have a Team to command,” Val responds. “Anna Lee Franks is gonna love that.”

“Shit,” Stanford says as they walk out to the street. “What am I going to do about her? She has been eyeing the TL job since before Cole took it.”

“You’ll have to turn on that Lee charm,” Val laughs. “Which means you’re fucked, since she’s a Lee too and immune. Maybe you can appeal to her with cousinly love.”

“Nah, she’s always hated me. She never has gotten me like you do, Val,”
Stanford frowns then looks around. “Where’d your dad go?”

Val looks about and spies the man taking a piss in the bushes.

“Don’t wait for me!” he shouts. “Just a shake and I’m done!”

“
Barracks are looking pretty good now, huh?” Stanford says. “I think you’ve earned a little space from Uncle Trainwreck.”

“Jesus,” Val replies. “Yeah, me too.”

***

It was harder than taking a
toddler to his first day of preschool, but Val got her father signed up and dropped off at the Sewerage Maintenance office. He cursed and swore at her for her betrayal, but she just gave him a hug, and the finger, then left to get to her new position. He was going to have to take care of himself for a while. She is on DTA now and can’t be her father’s babysitter any longer.