100 Days in Deadland

“How do I know I can trust your man?” Clutch countered.

I put a hand on Clutch’s forearm and looked at Tyler. “If he stays, he’s not allowed in the house, and he does what Jase says. Aside from the MREs, you haven’t exactly proven that we can trust Camp Fox.”

Clutch’s jaw was clenched, but he nodded. He turned to Jase. “You get all that?”

Jase looked up from where he and Eddy were playing with Mutt. “Yeah. Want me to start working on the gate?”

“No,” Clutch said. “That truck isn’t going anywhere. It’s a better barricade than the gate was right now. We’ll get it fixed tomorrow. Just keep an eye out.”

“Can I stay, Captain?” Eddy asked.

“Eddy and I were in the same class. We played football together,” Jase added, and then stuck out his chest. “Of course, I could outrun Eddy any day of the week.”

Eddy razzed Jase right back while Tyler smiled. “You both stay out of trouble. We’ll be back in a couple hours. Smitty has a radio, so have him call me if you need anything.” The corporal jumped the fence and Clutch gave him a once-over as he walked over to the two boys.

“Let my mom know I’m all right, okay, Captain?” Eddy asked.

Tyler gave him a thumbs up before turning back to us, and he looked at my M24. “You won’t need your rifles on this trip.”

I clutched it harder as I climbed over the gate. “I always need my rifle.”

He opened his mouth to speak but shut it. He waved at the Humvee. “Nick, Griz, Tack, you’re with me.”

Clutch hopped the fence, his Blaser in tow. He brushed past Tyler, and opened the back door of the Humvee. I climbed in, followed by Clutch who sidled next to me.

Tyler took the front passenger seat, and I noticed another soldier behind the steering wheel. In the rear of the vehicle, I found two more soldiers: a black man at the .30 cal and a younger, lanky white man who, after seeing us, closed his eyes and leaned his back against the side. Even though neither looked aggressive, I was glad Clutch had sat next to me.

“Meet some of my team,” Tyler motioned to the other men. “Tack and Griz are handling the .30, and Nick’s our fine driver. Guys, meet Cash and…” Tyler turned in his seat to face Clutch. “I didn’t get your name and rank.”

“Seibert, Joseph. Sergeant First Class,” Clutch replied.

“With what unit, Sarge?” Tyler countered quickly.

“75th Ranger Regiment.”

“Hoorah,” the soldier manning the .30 cal called out.

Tyler nodded to the man who spoke. “Griz back there is a Ranger, too.”

“Hoorah,” Clutch replied, lifting a fist in the air.

“Being with the Rangers, I’m guessing you saw some action, then,” Tyler said.

Clutch gave a tight nod. “OEF-A. Two tours.”

Tyler whistled. “Two tours in Afghanistan? Yeah, that counts as action. Have you thought about joining up at Camp Fox? We could use a soldier with your experience.”


“How long do you think the Camp will be safe, Captain?” Clutch asked. “All those people confined in one place are going to attract zeds. And, all that heavy equipment is going to attract no—gooders. I’ll support your efforts, but I’ve got my own people to protect. I can’t relocate my people to Camp Fox until I know you can maintain a defensible position.”

“I could order you to relocate to the Camp, Sarge,” Tyler said. “All troops, including retired and inactive, were recalled to service when the outbreak started. And all remaining able-bodied men were called in for the reserve militia.”

Clutch jutted out his chin. “Too bad I didn’t get the memo.”

Tyler pursed his lips. “I’ll let that slide for now. I don’t want to force you, but we need you. There may come a time when I’ll have to order you back to duty, and that time could come soon.”

Clutch’s lips thinned and the tension thickened the air. “Yes, sir.”

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