“We’re not going to kill them, are we?” I asked.
Cipher reached for my hand and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll try not to, but we can’t save them all, Kitten. This is going to be tough, maybe the hardest thing you’ve ever done.”
“Do you have a plan?” I asked, praying that he did.
“Yeah, I have a plan. Not to be dramatic or anything, but it looks like it’s up to us to save humanity.”
From the back of the Humvee, Macon hooted and hollared back, “Fuck yeah it is.”
Santi shook his head, looking doubtful. I was trying not to toss my cookies, dreading what lie ahead. Despite us being greatly outnumbered, with Cipher at the helm, I had hope.
Humanity couldn’t ask for a better hero.
NINETEEN
CIPHER
“We haveto try and limit the casualties,” I told the other Assholes when we arrived back at the compound. “They’re Rabid, yes, but the medical staff will want to try and rehabilitate them like they did with me.”
We stood crowded around the dining room table, our makeshift command center, with the map Kitten had drawn of the base laid out before us. I had my baton in one hand, pointing out the entry and exit points to the StarChem base. “We’re going to attempt to corral as many of them as we can here.” I pointed to the shooting range, the last remaining stronghold and the only location where the fences were still fortified. At least they had been when we’d last seen them. Anything might have happened in our absence. “Then we’ll have to clear out the buildings, one by one, until we reach the medical wing. Artemis, you’ve got the best aim, so you’ll have the tranq darts. Teresa, how many do we have?”
“Thirteen,” she said.
Thirteen wasn’t nearly enough, but we’d have to make the most of it.
“Make every one of them count. Keep a few on hand for close encounters. Macon, you’re good with the bat. Try and tag as many as you can without knocking their brains out.”
“I’ll try but it’s delicate work,” Macon said, looking doubtful.
“I’ll have my crowbar. Kitten, you take my Glock.”
“You said we should try not to kill anyone,” he argued.
“Aim for the knees, but if you have to, take them out. Our lives are more important than theirs right now. Our main objective is securing the base and liberating the medical workers. None of that will happen if we’re dead.” Kitten still looked uncertain about it, and I didn’t blame him one bit. It was one thing to kill a stranger, a whole other to kill someone you’ve shared a meal or living quarters with. Half-formed flashes of my own time being Rabid came to me then. I’d been out of my mind and out of control, but I’d still been human, hadn’t I? “You can stay in the Humvee if you want,” I said to Kitten. “You know these people. There’s no shame in not wanting to hurt them.”
“No, I’m not leaving you alone. I’ll do what needs to be done.” He nodded as if trying to psych himself up for the battle ahead.
I wanted him by my side anyway. God only knew what we were going to encounter in there, and the two of us made an excellent team. I went around the table assigning weapons and individual strategies. We made a plan for retreat in case we needed to. We’d be bringing both our automatic rifles. I really didn’t want it to turn into a bloodbath, but if shit went sideways, I was putting my family first.
We geared up, each of us wearing homemade armor to protect our limbs from bites–shin guards, PVC pipes, and helmets with plastic face shields that Gizmo and Wylie had fashioned a while ago for this very purpose. I’d been counting on a battle with Rabids (or raiders) ever since we’d arrived here in Assburbia, but I’d always thought it’d be here on our own turf and we’d be on the defense, not the offense.
“Here, boss, these should help,” Gizmo said to me as we were loading up. He handed over two baton-looking instruments with forked ends.
“What are they?”
“Cattle prods.”
“Fuck yes, Gizmo, this is brilliant,” I said and he only nodded with a grin. “Everyone ready?” I asked as we crowded into our armored vehicle. One of us had to stay behind to care for the animals–the nanny still needed milking twice a day. I wasn’t too crazy about leaving Selena there alone, but we needed as much manpower as possible if we were going to secure the base.
Nine affirmative responses came back in nods, grunts, and “yes, boss.” Nine people willing to risk their lives on a mission to save the remaining survivors on base, trusting me to lead the way.
I didn’t believe in God or religion, but I prayed for the universe to keep us safe.
We arrivedat the western entrance of StarChem an hour or so later, finding it much the same as we had earlier that day, only this time James, the friendly Rabid, was nowhere in sight. I’d spent the ride laying out our game plan, spending time with Santiago in particular since the first phase of our operation involved corralling the Rabids from open air into a secure, fenced-in area.
“Kind of like how you might herd cattle,” I said, turning to Macon, since he had more experience with that sort of thing.
“Gotta scare ‘em,” Macon said. “Get a few of them moving in the right direction and the rest will follow.”
