situation they were in and decided it couldn’t get much worse. Supplies were coming in slowly, if at all, and the scavenging teams had to go further and further each time they went out to find essentials like gas and food. That was one of the reasons they only charged the fence when it was needed. On top of that, the report he’d read that morning stated that the fight for the Dead Cities was at a standstill, and this was accompanied by an order for him to transfer twenty of his people to New Orleans to assist in clearing that city of the dead. The life expectancy for this duty was calculated in hours instead of days, so it was the same as signing their death warrants.
The burden of command weighed heavily on his shoulders.
Rounding the corner of his trailer , he found a young Lieutenant waiting for him. Cage remembered his last name was Randal and noticed the man’s face was drawn and hollow. No surprise since he was in charge of bringing in test subjects for study, and the attrition rate of his platoon had been over sixty percent in the last month. When Randal had first taken command they went out on a weekly basis. Now they were now going out daily to collect four or five of the walking dead for study. The doctor running the research into the HWNW virus had stepped up his experiments to find a cure for the HWNW virus, and now everyone was working overtime. Cage had his doubts that Dr. Hawkins was really looking for a cure, but kept them to himself.
After exchanging salutes, he was told that his presence was requested at the farmhouse at 0600. Ever formal, Randal saluted again and turned to go, but Cage stopped him by asking, “How are you holding up?”
Lieutenant Randal wasn’t actually part of Cage’s command since he reported directly to Dr. Hawkins , so it would have been entirely in his right to ignore the question, but he stopped and seemed to deflate slightly. A worried look crossed his face and he seemed to hesitate before answering.
“As good as can be expected, sir.”
Cage had been trying to get the Lieutenant into a conversation for weeks about what went on at the farmhouse and had only been met with stony silence. Finally seeing a wedge in the officer’s armor, he quickly said, “Command can be tough. We’re in a situation that no one’s ever dealt with before. We lose men on a weekly basis and that can be hard. If you ever need someone to talk to, my door is always open.”
The Lieutenant nodded at the offer and opened his mouth to say something but stopped. He was a graduate of West Point, where honor and duty had been drilled into him. This, coupled with the secrecy of what they were doing at the farmhouse, stilled his tongue.
“ I’m good, sir,” he replied as the blank expression returned to his face.
Cage saw this but decided to give it one more try. Knowing the Lieutenant’s background, he said, “At the Point they taught you all kinds of things that don’t hold much weight when you get out in the real world. I know you’re under orders not to talk about what happens at the farmhouse, but that doesn’t mean you can’t talk about what you’re going through.”
Randal’s face softened slightly , so Cage added, “I walk the perimeter every night at 0800. Feel free to join me.” Not wanting to push too hard, he added in dismissal, “Tell Doctor Hawkins that I‘ll be there at six. Have a good day, Lieutenant.”
Randal saluted and spun on his heel after it was returned.
As Cage watched him disappear between two tents, he wondered if the Lieutenant would show up.
***
Jones looked down at the map of Russellville spread out on Cage’s desk before pointing to a spot near Interstate 40. “This is where we saw the latest group of Z’s coming our way.” Tracing a route that led around Lake Dardanelle, he added, “We followed them all the way to where the road starts up Mount Nebo but had to break off contact when it got too hairy. The woods here are full of Z’s, and
Louis - Hopalong 0 L'amour