Dead Team Alpha: A Post Apocalyptic Thriller Read online

  “Drank it all,” Benji says. “We got thirsty, remember? Shrooms.”

  “Yeah, yeah, shrooms,” Stanford says as tries to recall the wild night. Bits and pieces come back to him, mainly the sweaty sex pieces, and he reaches over and slaps Benji on the ass. “Hey.”

  “Hey, yourself, asshole,” Benji says. “Fuck off, I’m going back to sleep.”

  There’s a loud banging from the other room and Stanford looks at the open bedroom door.

  “I gotta go, okay?” Stanford says as he gets up, yanks on his jeans, and starts rummaging for a clean t-shirt. He finds a clean-ish one and pulls it on. “Uh, did you hear me?”

  “Yes, I heard you,” Benji says as he rolls over and throws the blanket off. He gets to his feet and shoves Stanford out of the way. “I guess that means I can’t stay.”

  “Sorry,” Stanford says. “Maybe we could get together later tonight? I hear there’s some hooch ready.”

  “No thanks,” Benji says as he gathers his clothes. “I don’t drink.”

  “But you take shrooms?” Stanford asks, wishing for a glass of water.

  “Shrooms are great for fucking,” Benji says, turning and giving Stanford a quick kiss. “That hooch will make your dick soft. Hate to ruin a good thing.”

  The banging starts again and gets louder and louder until Benji, naked with his clothes wadded in a ball in his arms, leaves the bedroom, crosses through the pigsty of a front room, and yanks the front door open.

  “Oh,” Val says, her fist raised. “Uh, hi there.”

  “Excuse me,” Benji says as he pushes past.

  Val watches him walk down the walkway of the apartment complex set aside for single men. He goes a few doors down and drops his clothes, searches through the pockets of the pants, and pulls out a key. He looks over at Val and frowns.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Nice ass,” Val smiles.

  “Whatever,” Benji says as he slips the key in the knob. “Forget you saw it, sweetheart. I don’t do vag.”

  “It’s Val,” Val smiles.

  “What?” Benji asks.

  “It’s Val, not vag,” Val smiles wider.

  “Funny,” Benji says in a voice that makes it very obvious he doesn’t find it funny. He shoves his door open and waves a hand at Val. “Have fun with that one. We tripped most of the night.”

  Then the door closes, and Val turns back to the open one in front of her.

  “Ford? Ford!” Val yells as she walks in and closes the door behind her. “We’re gonna be late, dick. You better not be hung-over. Not today, cuz.”

  “No hangover,” Stanford says as he walks out of the bathroom, rubbing his face with a wet towel. “But I think I’m still trippin’ on shrooms.”

  “Jesus, Ford,” Val says as she looks about the mess of an apartment. “Better pull it together or Aunt Maura will rip you a new one.”

  “I think Benji already did that,” Stanford smiles as he pats his ass. “He’s a cute one, huh?”

  Val shrugs. “I thought you were fucking that Pickering girl?”

  “Pussy gets old,” Stanford shrugs. “Gotta mix it up, ya know?”

  “Nope,” Val says, shaking her head. “I’m strictly a cock and balls girl. No switch hitting for me.”

  “Whatever floats your boat, cuz,” Stanford says. “Ready?”

  “Are you?”

  “Born ready,” Stanford says as he grabs his boots and a pair of socks and gestures to the front door. “After you, my lady.”

  “Thank you, kind sir,” Val says as she walks past then stops and socks Stanford in the gut.

  “What the fuck, Val,” Stanford oofs.

  “Just double checking,” Val says. “Wanted you to get whatever puking you have in you done now. Can’t have my favorite cousin vomiting during the Teamtrials.”

  “I told you, I’m not hung over,” Stanford says then yanks the water jug out of Val’s hand. “But I am thirsty as all fuck.” He chugs half the water and then belches. “That hits the spot.”

  “Fucking asshole,” Val snaps. “That was my ration for the day.”

  “Oh, quit bitching,” Stanford says as they walk down the stairs from the second floor and out to the street. “My mom will have plenty of water at the barracks.”

  “Not today, fucknut,” Val says. “No water until after the Trials. This is a test to find the best of the best, remember? And the best don’t get thirsty mid-fight.”

  “Well, that’s bullshit since I’m the best and extremely thirsty,” Stanford grins. “You need to chill, little cuz. We’ve been kicking ass on Beta One, there’s no way we won’t make it into Alpha.”

  “Sure, easy for you to say since your mom is the fucking Commander,” Val frowns. “Not so easy for me.”

  “You are my favorite cousin and her favorite niece, Val,” Stanford says. “And way less disappointing than her only child. You have a better shot than I do. Fuck, she probably won’t let me in just to prove she isn’t playing favorites.”

  “Fuck that,” Val says, waving to a mother and her children busy throwing food to the chickens pecking at the grass in their front yard. “You’re the best shooter in the Stronghold and the second best fighter.”

  “You being the first best, I take it?” Stanford laughs.

  “Just the best,” Val grins. “No need to qualify it with ‘first’.”

  They walk for a couple more blocks, passing old brick and wood buildings, many of them patched together with various materials. In the zombie apocalypse, you take what you can find and make do. Another block and they come across an entire family in their driveway going through fight drills. The father and mother instruct the children on how to hold an axe properly and where to aim to take down a Z.

  The head, of course.

  They see Val and wave. She waves back. Stanford waves, but the mother moves in front of her husband, glaring.

  “Ford, you didn’t?” Val asks, shaking her head as they walk past the family and turn at the corner of the block. “The guy has kids.”

  “I don’t know if I did or didn’t,” Stanford says. “Don’t recognize the guy.”

  “Slut,” Val smirks.

  Stanford just shrugs.

  Turning onto Broadway, the two cousins see people making their way onto what was once the University of Colorado campus, but now serves as the Team barracks and command center.

  “I still don’t know why the hurry for the Trials,” Stanford says. “Moving up the schedule is a bit weird, don’t you think?”

  “I don’t know,” Val says. “Aunt Maura didn’t say anything to you?”

  “Dear old mumsy hasn’t said a word to me since we got back from the last run down in D-town,” Stanford says. “She wasn’t very happy about that stunt I pulled.”

  “You could have burned down all of Sector Five,” Val replies. “She had reason to be unhappy.”

  “But I killed what, like a hundred Zs at once?” Stanford asks. “Led them into that building, using myself as fucking bait, then locked the doors and lit a match.”

  “I’m not saying it wasn’t a good idea,” Val says. “But if sparks had spread, then it would have been a disaster.”

  “Woulda, coulda, shoulda,” Stanford shrugs. “Whatcha gonna do?”

  “I’m gonna break my dick off in your ass, faggot,” a short, thick man says as he comes running up behind the two. “Then make you beg for more.”

  “Anyone that is subjected to your tiny whang will beg for more,” Stanford says. “They’ll beg for something at least.”

  “Fuck you, Lee,” the man grins.

  “Right back at you, Cole,” Stanford smiles and gives the man a high five.

  “Hey, Val,” Coleman Wright says. “You ain’t lettin’ this fucker distract you, are ya?”

  “Please,” Val says. “I’ve been ignoring this shit since we were born.”

  A good ten years older than the cousins, Coleman Wright walks next to them, shirtless so the ropy muscles, and the pi
nk scars that crisscross his dark brown skin, are on display for everyone. A sheen of sweat covers his chest and he causally wipes it away, flicking the sweat to the ground.

  “Dude,” Val says. “Yuck.”

  “Oh, did I get some on ya?” Cole asks then grabs her up in a bear hug.

  “Fuck you, Coleman!” Val shouts just before head-butting the man.

  “Ow! Jesus, Val,” Cole grunts as he drops her. “You gotta learn the difference between play and for realsies.”

  “You gotta stop getting your sweat on me,” Val says.

  “Come on,” Cole winks. “You like it. What do you say later tonight we see how much you like it?”

  “No,” Val says.

  “Come on,” Cole pleads. “Remember that one New Year’s? You telling me that didn’t work for you?”

  Val rolls her eyes. “Answer is still no. I’m with Hamish.”

  “Terlington?” Cole laughs. “Doctor Boring?”

  Val shrugs.

  “The lady said no, Cole,” Stanford says. “But I’m up for some sweating.”

  “Jesus, Ford,” Cole says. “You are such a slut.”

  “You’re the second person to tell me that this morning,” Stanford smiles.

  As they get closer, Cole starts winking and pointing at the young women in the crowd that are filtering into the building once known as Carlson Gymnasium. The ghost of the name can still be seen up over the door. Most of the young women frown and look away, but some smile wide, glad for the attention of the Team Leader of Denver Team Beta Two.

  “Who’s the slut now?” Stanford says, laughing at Coleman’s antics.

  “Can’t be a slut if I don’t get any,” Cole says. “I’m good for a laugh, but not for a shag.”

  “Ahhh, poor baby,” Val says. “Maybe I will give you a pity fuck later.”

  “I’ll take all the pity you want to give,” Cole laughs.

  The crowd is thick at the entrance and the three have to push their way through, not bothering to say sorry or excuse me since as soon as they are recognized folks move out of their way. The three Mates’ moods and attitudes quickly change from smart-ass to straight edge. No more sexual banter or sarcastic insults. They are now inside the Gym and a Team Mate doesn’t fuck around inside the Gym.

  “Good morning,” a woman says. Average height, late-fifties, salt and pepper hair tied up in a tight bun, crisp dark blue uniform with the nametag “Commander Lee” sewn over her left breast. “Stanford, I’m pleased you made it on time and not smelling of vomit.”

  “I do have standards,” Stanford says. “You’re looking very butch this morning, Mother. I hope that doesn’t mean you’re promoting only the dykes into DTA.”

  Commander Lee sighs heavily. “Why do you have to say things like that? You only reinforce old world bigotry by perpetuating slurs like that.”

  “Cole called me a faggot outside,” Stanford says.

  “Hey!” Cole snaps, looking at the commander with alarm. “It was a joke, sir! He knows it was a joke! Tell her, Ford!”

  “I am well aware of your sense of humor, TL Wright,” Commander Lee says. “However crude it may be, and however much I believe it undermines your command as a TL, it is still obviously humor. My son’s quips and barbs? Not so funny.”

  “Tough room,” Stanford says.

  “Hello, Val,” Commander Lee smiles. “Are you ready for the trials?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be, sir,” Val says, not daring to be anything but formal with the commanding officer even if she is her aunt.

  “Good,” Commander Lee says and looks about the crowd as people take seats in the old wooden bleachers. “And my brother isn’t here, I see. God forbid Collin Baptiste is bothered with anything to do with family.”

  “Dad’s working through our food rations,” Val says. “One sip at a time.”

  “Good Lord,” Commander Lee says then looks at her son. “At least you can never be the biggest disappointment in the family.” With that said, she nods at them all, turns on her heel and walks her way to a small podium set off to the side of the Gym.

  “We’ll see about that!” Stanford calls after her. “The day has just started!”

  “What the fuck did you two do in your past lives?” Cole asks as they walk over to the other candidates standing close to a large mat in the center of the Gym floor. “You each have a peach of a parent.”

  “The Baptistes fell apart after Granny G died,” Val says. “I think that woman was all that kept the family together. Once she passed, they all sorta lost their way.”

  “No shit,” Stanford says. “I do miss that old woman. She used to tell me stories about the convoy trip across the country to the Stronghold. We live in Paradise compared to that.”

  “Your great grandmother was something, that’s true,” Coleman nods. “She died at what? Ninety-five?”

  “She was older than that that,” Val answers. “She was a kid when Z-Day hit and that was almost a hundred years ago.”

  “Bullshit,” Cole says. “No one lives that long.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Shut up,” Stanford says. “Party’s getting started.”

  The crowd takes their seats while the eight candidates around the mat snap to attention as Commander Lee steps behind the podium and gives a short nod.

  “Please lower your heads for the Remembrance,” she says.

  The whole room goes silent and every head is lowered instantly.

  “We always remember,” Commander Lee says in a strong and confident voice that carries to every ear. “The past is where we came from, but not who we are. Today we live. We always remember.”

  “We always remember,” the entire Gym says.

  “There was weakness once, but not anymore. Today we live. We always remember,” Commander Lee continues.

  “We always remember.”

  “Anger is not hatred, violence is not evil,” she says. “This we have learned because today we live. We always remember.”

  “We always remember.”

  “You must work for security and die for safety. This is truth because today we live. We always remember.”

  “We always remember.”

  “No matter what, we do what is right, since every person counts and today we live. We always remember.”

  “We always remember.”

  “We are a community, a society, a family. One and all we are together. That is why today we live and we always remember.”

  “We always remember.”

  “And why do we always remember?”

  “Because every person counts.”

  “Yes, every person counts.”

  “Every person counts.”

  “We always remember.”

  “We always remember.”

  There is silence for exactly five seconds, then everyone raises their heads and starts cheering and clapping.

  Commander Lee lifts her hands and the Gym quiets down. “As you know, we lost two mates from Denver Team Alpha last week.”

  “We always remember,” the crowd says.

  “That we do,” Commander Lee responds. “As a military society we have sworn to protect any and all that seek refuge within our walls. In order to do that, we must have the strength of the Teams at full. We have many fine candidates ready to step into roles on Denver Team Betas One and Two, but, as you can see, only eight qualify to move up into the vacated slots on Denver Team Alpha.”

  “Long live Dead Team Alpha!”

  “Long live DTA!”

  “We are alive today because of DTA!”

  “Every person counts!”

  “Yes, yes, thank you,” Commander Lee says as she holds her hands out to silence the enthusiastic members of the crowd. “I thank you for that tribute.”

  She looks at the eight candidates, making sure she holds eye contact with each one for no more and no less than three seconds.

  “I do not need to introduce them since we all know each other,” Commander Lee says. “But I will
say that two of the candidates are part of my family. Nothing new since we are a community of only three thousand and many Commanders over the decades have had to deal with the same situation. This is why the Commander does not make the final decision. It is left to the Team Mates to decide who will join them.”

  As soon as she says that, eight men and women come into the Gym from a side door. Denver Team Alpha. Dead Team Alpha. DTA. They take positions off to the side and stand at attention.

  The crowd gets to their feet and salutes, waiting until the salutes are returned by DTA before sitting back down.

  “Denver Team Alpha has been given the unfortunate, yet accurate, nickname of Dead Team Alpha,” Commander Lee says. “More Mates from DTA have died than from any of the other Teams combined. They are our front line defense, our strike force, and our best refugee retrieval unit.”

  “Every person counts!” the crowd yells.

  “Every person counts,” Commander Lee says. “Of the eight candidates, two will move into DTA while the rest will take on new roles in their respective Teams or be assigned to a new Team. The two chosen will need to show not just that they are physically strong, but also mentally and emotionally strong. This is why we have the Trials. Today all eight candidates will be beaten and humiliated. Those left standing will be the ones the DTA picks from. On this day, and this day alone, only two people will count.”

  The Gym is silent.

  “I give the floor to Team Leader Margaret Lafferty,” Commander Lee says, nodding at a tall, broad shouldered woman stepping from the row of DTA members. “From here on, until the two have been chosen, TL Lafferty is the law. What she says goes. Any that argues, whether candidates or spectators, will be removed from the Gym. There is no argument.”

  “Only the TL has the say,” the crowd says.

  “Rightly so,” Commander Lee says. “Let’s begin.”

  “Candidates!” TL Lafferty shouts. “You will drop and give me infinity push-ups. I will tell you when to stop, if ever. The first to fail will get off their worthless faces and leave without argument. Understood?”

  “Sir, yes, sir!” the candidates shout.

  “Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” she roars. “Fucking drop and give me forever!”