Deranged Souls Read online

  “I’m sure David’ll want to know what you intend to do with the subjects after Subject B meets up with the new ghost,” Nurse Schomp said. “What are your plans for them?”

  “I’ll have the three of them put to death,” Abel said softly.

  Nurse Schomp nodded and went back to her reading.

  Abel closed his eyes and imagined David putting a pistol to the back of Timmy Knip’s skull, and he smiled.

  Chapter 29: Visitors

  “What’s going on?” Marcus asked.

  Guy, Brother Michel, and Philip were in the kitchen with Alex. All looked at Marcus as he stood in the doorway.

  Alex frowned and said, “I guess Alfor wants to talk to the ghosts.”

  “Whatever for?” Marcus asked, walking to the table and sitting down beside the boy.

  “They wish to negotiate a truce,” Brother Michel explained. “We came to inform Alex about the situation.”

  “What is your take on the matter?” Marcus asked the boy. The child was the only one who could control the dead, and ultimately, whether or not any sort of negotiating took place would be his decision.

  “I don’t want to negotiate,” Alex said angrily. “I don’t like them.”

  “What do you want to do then?”

  Alex spoke to Philip in the dead man’s own language, and the Huron chuckled before he responded. The dead man continued for several minutes, and occasionally, all four would speak in French. Marcus sat patiently, wishing he knew what was being decided.

  Finally, after nearly fifteen minutes, Alex turned to him, grinning, and repeated to Marcus what the dead man had said.

  “So,” Alex smiled, “what do you think?”

  “It is an excellent plan,” Marcus admitted. “When is this supposed to take place?”

  “Twelve o’clock,” Alex said.

  “We will need to make certain that we are safe and secure at that time,” Marcus said.

  “Oh,” Alex said mournfully. “I wanted to watch.”

  “No,” Marcus said softly, “that is not something we will do today.”

  ***

  “You’re certain you saw the boy?” David asked.

  Pierre nodded, as did Guillermo.

  How, how is that damned child still alive? Armand’s thoughts were furious and confused. He wanted to demand more information, but he knew it would be of no use. The men had no more knowledge to impart regarding the child.

  “Well, this sure as hell puts a different spin on the situation,” David muttered. “We haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since he got out.”

  “Once we’ve secured a truce,” Armand said, “we’ll be able to go in and seize him again.”

  “Until we have the boy,” David said, “I don’t want anything said to Professor Worthe. I’d rather not have him get his hopes up.”

  “Of course,” Armand said. He looked at Pierre. “Is the negotiations team ready?”

  “Yes,” Pierre said. “They have all been equipped and prepped. Security elements are in place. The only thing we can hope for at this point is that it will all go smoothly.”

  “True,” Armand agreed.

  “Are you going in?” David asked.

  Armand shook his head. “I cannot. It is against Alfor protocol for all members of the command element to be present in a hazardous situation. Pierre has engaged in negotiations before and has been far more successful than I have. So, it falls to him to secure a truce with the dead. I must stay here and observe.”

  The idea of it rankled him, and he knew his expression showed his displeasure.

  Pierre clapped him on the back and said, “It will all be over with soon enough, my friend.”

  “Very true,” Armand said, smiling.

  Together, the soldiers walked out of the conference room, their boots ringing out on the steel floors of the hallway.

  Chapter 30: Negotiations

  Guillermo, Pierre, and Georgios walked abreast of one another. They were heavily armed and with a ratline attached to their retrieval handle, three men on each line to pull them out if necessary. Guillermo knew there were teams stationed in a defensive arc behind them, as well as snipers in the towers. His eyes darted about, searching for any sign that the meeting between the living and the dead was going to be less than congenial.

  Nothing caught his eye, and that alone caused his senses to heighten.

  Something’s coming, he thought.

  The three stopped a short distance from the gate, which was open a few inches to allow the dead to exit. He didn’t know with whom they would speak, or who was even in command, assuming there was someone in a position of authority.

  On the other side of the gate, from around the rear of one of the houses, three dead men appeared. Guillermo recognized two of them from the reports filed by Worthe’s original team.

  The Frenchmen, he thought. Guy and Brother Michel? Yes, those are their names. I don’t know the Indian.

  The dead men walked forward, the faces of Guy and the Native set in stoic expressions. Guillermo had a difficult time looking at the Brother. His face was a bloody mess.

  Pierre called out to the men in French, and Guy responded in kind. They approached until they were a little more than ten feet away.

  Pierre and the Frenchman conversed politely, their tone more conversational than one would expect for a negotiation. Guillermo didn’t know what was being said, but the pleased look on Guy’s face was a good sign. After several minutes, Guy turned and spoke to the Indian in a language Guillermo assumed was some native tongue.

  Pierre’s voice came over the comm system.

  “They’re willing to discuss negotiations,” Pierre said.

  “You haven’t even begun negotiations?” Georgios asked in an exasperated tone.

  “This is why we don’t have Greeks negotiate,” Pierre said, laughing.

  Guy said something in French and Pierre turned back to the dead man. They exchanged a few words, and then Pierre spoke over the comm again.

  “The Native, he refuses to negotiate with men who hide their faces,” Pierre said.

  Armand’s voice came over the radio. “Are you serious, Pierre?”

  “I am,” Pierre said.

  “I think the risk is too much,” Armand declared a moment later, his anger potent even through the distortion of the comms.

  “Armand,” Pierre said, “had this been demanded of us at the beginning, I would have said so as well. But I think there is now a connection here, between us. I am willing to remove my helmet. If I do, the others will need to leave.”

  “No,” Georgios snapped. “Mine will come off as well.”

  “And mine,” Guillermo added. “You won’t be left here without security, Pierre.”

  “Then it’s settled,” Armand stated, his anger still audible. “The three of you will continue your negotiations.”

  Guillermo undid the strap of his helmet and pulled it off, cradling it in the crook of his left arm while Pierre and Georgios did the same.

  Guy bowed low to them, and the Indian nodded. Brother Michel offered them a small smile and gave them a benediction.

  Pierre and Guy started to speak again, and Guillermo’s attention shifted from the conversation to the Village and the surroundings. A blur of movement caught his attention, and he turned his head.

  A trio of Indians was aiming muskets at them.

  Guillermo reached for Pierre, and the dead men fired. Pierre and Georgios collapsed to the ground, and Guillermo was jerked off of his feet as the men on his ratline dragged him back toward safety.

  But safety was a relative term as dead men arose from the snow.

  Chapter 31: Contact

  Guillermo was pulled roughly to his feet, his weapon thrust back into his hands. All around him, the dead pushed in. Shotguns roared, and rifles cracked. Guillermo looked around for his helmet and saw it was where he had dropped it. A glance to either side of him showed the crumpled forms of Pierre and Georgios. Their faces were pale, ey
es wide open and lips blue. A pair of Humvees raced up on the left, but a group of Indians appeared, standing in the path of the vehicles.

  The drivers gunned their engines, but the electrical systems died, causing the engines to seize. Screams and shouts exploded from the interior, and within seconds, the noises of the dying were silenced.

  I need my helmet, Guillermo thought, ducking as a dead man swung a war club at his head. He squeezed off a shot, and the Indian vanished. Furious, Guillermo raced forward, snatched up the helmet, and darted back to the safety of his men. Pulling the headgear on, Guillermo keyed the microphone and listened to the sounds of battle.

  ***

  Marcus lay in the cemetery, stretched out beneath a blanket covered with snow. He had the stolen rifle, and he looked down its barrel at the fight in front of the gate. The Alfor troops had been betrayed, ambushed during their negotiations for a truce with the dead. But still, he knew they would survive relatively unscathed. For the most part, the dead could not pierce the armor Worthe’s hired troops wore.

  For the most part, Marcus thought.

  He sighted down the length of the barrel, saw a pair of men working in conjunction in a tower, and shot at them. His first bullet struck one of the men, causing the guard to stagger and begin to fall over the side.

  The man’s partner caught him, and Marcus shot the second man.

  It was a glancing blow, one which cracked the visor on the guard’s helmet. But it was enough to cause the man to stagger back, letting go of his comrade-in-arms. The man who remained in the tower lunged forward, not seeming to notice the Indian who appeared behind him.

  Marcus shifted his attention to another target and saw a man behind the door of a Humvee. The guard picked his targets carefully. Marcus sent two rounds toward him, shattering the glass of the Humvee’s door. The man spun away from the attack, his weapon firing and hitting the man across from him.

  An angry smile settled onto Marcus’ face, and he sought out someone else to shoot.

  ***

  Alex walked beside Elaine toward the wrought iron fence. He glanced worriedly at her. Most of her was gone, and what remained seemed to be less each time he looked back.

  She didn’t seem to notice the amount of attention he was giving her.

  She’ll be gone soon, he thought sadly. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand, to tell her he was going to miss her, but it hurt too much.

  When they reached the fence, Alex looked at the fighting, wondering how many living men would be killed before the day was out.

  “Get away from the fence!” a muffled voice commanded.

  Alex looked up and saw a man, his face and body hidden in black, approaching the fence.

  “Go away,” Alex said angrily. “I’m busy right now.”

  “You’re going to be dead in a minute,” the muffled voice replied.

  Alex felt his anger rising. “I told you to go away.”

  “You’re going to do what I say,” the guard commanded. “Exactly when I say it. Is that understood?”

  Alex ignored him, trying to pay attention to what was going on by the gate.

  The guard stepped forward, raising a shotgun. “Boy, you’re going to respect me.”

  Before he could stop him, Alex watched as the guard fired the weapon. Whatever it was loaded with caused Elaine to vanish.

  “Stupid,” Alex hissed. His body shivered, the hairs on his arms and back stood up, and he yelled, “Stupid!”

  From all sides Huron warriors raced forward, attacking the man relentlessly. Within a matter of moments, the guard collapsed.

  Good, Alex said, looking back at the gate. He was an idiot.

  ***

  No, Guillermo thought, horrified. He watched as one of the towers was grabbed by the dead, and they began to push and pull the steel. The men in it tried to scramble out, but they were chased back up to the platform by the appearance of the ghosts.

  A horrific crack and the penitent wail of the men in the tower mingled together and filled the air for a disturbingly long moment before the structure crashed to the earth.

  This won’t be won, Guillermo thought dully. No, it cannot be won.

  “We need to withdraw,” Guillermo said into the microphone, not quite certain when he had made the decision.

  “Isn’t there anything that can be done?” David asked.

  “No,” Guillermo replied, hating that he wasn’t speaking with Armand. “This is worse than anything we could have expected.”

  Another tower plummeted to the ground.

  “Get them out of there,” Armand broke in on the conversation. “We cannot lose any more people. Get them all out, Guillermo.”

  David started to argue, but Guillermo turned the volume of the microphone down.

  There were men he needed to save. As many as possible.

  Switching to the general channel, Guillermo yelled out, “Fall back!”

  As the Alfor men did so, the dead pressed their advantage and sought to butcher as many as they could.

  Chapter 32: Alone

  The burden of command often weighed heavily upon Armand.

  He sat in his room, smoking another cigarette and staring at a glass of bourbon. He had no real desire to drink, but at times, it was the only way to forget what he had done.

  “They’re dead,” Miguel said from the bathroom.

  “You have a magnificent knack for stating the obvious,” Armand replied bitterly in Arabic.

  “I don’t know what you said.”

  Armand sighed and, in English, said, “Shut up, Miguel. That’s all. Shut up.”

  The dead man chuckled. “No, I will not do that. Not until my body is recovered.”

  “It won’t be!” Armand yelled, hurling the glass into the bathroom. He heard the mirror and the tumbler shatter.

  “A waste of good bourbon,” Miguel said calmly.

  “Shut up,” Armand grumbled, taking a long drag off his cigarette. Exhaling violently through his nostrils, he added, “We cannot get into the Village. We will not be able to retrieve your body.”

  Miguel was silent.

  “We lost Pierre today,” Armand muttered. “And Georgios. Eleven others as well. Some of the men are refusing to leave the compound. This is an untenable situation.”

  “What of their bodies?” Miguel asked angrily. “Were they recovered?”

  “They were,” Armand answered wearily. “We hoped we might save them.”

  “There’s no saving anyone now, Armand,” Miguel said in a cold, hard voice. “You cannot beat these ghosts. This job, it is killing your men. Think of it. More men who might return like me. Could you deal with three of us haunting you? Perhaps more, eh, with all the casualties?”

  Armand let out a caustic laugh. “Miguel, I cannot even handle you. If I could retrieve your body, I would. As it is, I cannot. But why, if you are dead, do you even care? You know we would be forced to cremate your remains.”

  “I don’t know,” Miguel said softly. “I don’t know why I want you to get me.”

  “You’re not there,” Armand pointed out, lowering his voice. “You are here. With your brother, I suspect. When we go home, you will be with us, so why the body?”

  “I don’t know,” Miguel whispered. Then his voice rose slightly, taking on a panicked note. “Armand, I’m dead!”

  Armand lowered his head, sorrow settling in his heart. “Yes, I know, my friend. I wish it were not so.”

  “I’m dead,” Miguel muttered, and Armand felt a cool breeze pass by him. He’s left, Armand thought.

  ***

  The majority of the seats in the mess hall were occupied, the Alfor troops silent and morose. Some still wore the armor they had on during the battle. Several were bandaged, but they were a minority. Fatalities had been high.

  Someone, Guillermo thought wearily, was shooting at us. Someone from inside the Village.

  Alfor had counter-sniper teams, of course, but none of them had been sent along with the guard detach
ment. There hadn’t been any need.

  Operational procedures need to change, he thought bitterly. Then he scoffed and shook his head. Would it have made any difference? How can you focus on finding a sniper when the dead are swarming over you?

  The iron-laced armor and uniforms were effective, for the most part. But a broken visor could let a dead man slip in. Three of the towers had been ripped down by the Indians and the Frenchmen, resulting in deaths and jumbled equipment, enough to allow a dead hand to plunge into exposed flesh.

  No, he thought. This was far worse than any of us could have suspected.

  A question presented itself, and Guillermo found he didn’t have the faintest idea as to how to answer it.

  Why did they agree to negotiate only to ambush us?

  Guillermo pushed the question away and looked out at his comrades in the mess hall. He scanned the faces, wondering how much more they could take. The fight had been short but brutal. If the defenses he and Georgios had established hadn’t been so precise, the casualties would have been worse.

  I wouldn’t be here, he thought angrily. What will Alfor do now? This is too much. We cannot sustain continued casualties at this level. Alfor will lose troops. Contracts will be dropped.

  David entered the room, saw Guillermo, and walked to the table.

  “May I sit?”

  “Of course,” Guillermo answered, moving his helmet off the chair.

  “I watched the fight,” David said.

  Guillermo looked at the man, waiting to see what would be said next.

  “It was bad out there,” David continued. “The worst I’ve ever seen.”

  Guillermo nodded. He had no desire to speak with the man, but he didn’t wish to offend their employer’s representative.

  “Have you discussed a secondary plan for reacquiring Subject D?” David asked.

  Frowning at him, Guillermo asked, “Who?”