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One NIght in Paris, Texas	By : TheByronicMan Category: M through R > Newsflesh (trilogy) > Newsflesh (trilogy) Views: 1163 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Newsflesh Trilogy or any of the related published works. I do not make any money from this story. Any resemblance to persons living, dead, or living dead is coincidental.

Chapter List
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While Ashley drove, the rest of us settled down on a couple of couches to discuss important matters.
“So, who was supposed to bring breakfast this morning?” Lance asked.
“Me,” I replied. “Unfortunately, our unwelcome visitors forced a change of plans. We'll grab something when we change drivers in Austin.”
Gil said, “Speaking of our early morning intruders, the plates don't match the truck they were driving. They aren't even truck plates, they come from a car registered to an address in Inspiration Hills. The truck matches one reported stolen from Leon Valley last night.”
Lance said, “Putting car plates on a truck? Not too bright, any cop who spotted them would have pulled them over.”
“Anything else, Gil?” I asked.
“I've got a facial recognition search going on social media sites and criminal records databases. It's likely to take a while, private investigators don't have the same kind of access the police get.”
“Lance, have you got anything?”
“Not yet. I have keyword alerts set up on the major news sites.” He continued typing on his laptop. “I'm sending emails to a couple of reporter friends who work the police beat.”
I related what I had learned from Rob and Riki, then booted up my own laptop to do some research. I was curious about the timing. The weapons had been buried for nearly a century and the book in Castillo's home office was almost fifty years old. Castillo had been in business for over a decade, so if the guns really were his objective, why wait so long to go after them? I did a search for any recent news of note from the Paris area. The residents had all either died or fled during the Rising and the region hadn't been reclaimed, so there wasn't much to sort through.
“Well, this is interesting. Pat Mayse Lake isn't there anymore.”
A chorus of “What?!” hit me from all directions.
“With the area abandoned, the dam wasn't being maintained. About six months ago the Corps of Engineers demolished the dam in stages to keep it from collapsing all at once.”
Gil looked thoughtful. “Makes me wonder if the burial site was under the lake. That would explain why Castillo was suddenly interested in it now.”
“Just what I was thinking,” I said.
I turned back to my computer, pulling up satellite and aerial imagery, but the most recent views still showed the full lake. About that time, Ashley announced she was falling asleep and pulled into a truck stop in New Braunfels. It was earlier than we had planned to stop, but I knew from past experience that they served a decent breakfast. A few minutes and a round of blood tests later we were seated amongst a handful of other travelers. Lance and Dan kept glancing longingly over to the trucker's section of the dining room, where waitresses in skimpy German barmaid-style outfits served the truck drivers. We, on the other hand, had to punch our orders into menu screens on the table and pick up our plates at the counter. We ate quickly, wanting to get back on the road, and were soon moving again. Ash sacked out in the back while Dan took over driving duties. The rest of us returned to our computers.
We were approaching Austin when Lance broke the silence. “Looks like the cops found our early morning visitors. What's left of them, anyway.”
Gil and I looked at him, and he continued. “There was an explosion at a downtown hotel parking garage about the time we left town. Automatic lockdown procedures went into effect. It took about an hour for emergency crews to sweep the scene and declare it zombie-free. Investigators found the remains of a truck matching the description of and bearing the same license plates as the one from our office. Two presumed occupants were liberally distributed across the floor, ceiling, walls, and nearby vehicles. Not enough left of either of them to reanimate.”
“Have they released any pictures?” I asked.
“Not yet.”
Gil had been typing away at his laptop. “I found some video. A valet was retrieving a car from that floor when the truck exploded. He was far enough away to avoid injury, but was trapped while the garage was locked down. He passed the time recording the damage with his cellphone. He uploaded the video before the police arrived and there hasn't been a peep out of him since.”
“That much time in a hot zone, they're probably doing a thorough decon on him. Snag a copy before the cops take it down.”
“Already done.”
Gil mirrored his computer display on the RV's TV screen and played the video. It was gruesome, blood and body parts scattered everywhere. I was surprised the police could confidently state that it was the remains of two people. The damage to the truck was mainly at the front end. The roof was peeled back, the doors and windshield blown off, and the side and rear windows shattered. The hood was hanging from one hinge, the grill was gone, and the engine block was five feet in front of the truck.
“Looks like the explosion was inside the cab,” I said.
Gil said, “I'm no expert, but it looks that way to me.”
Lance nodded in agreement.
“Send a copy to Riki. She served in Afghanistan and Iran, she's probably seen every way a vehicle can possibly be blown up.”
Lance said, “Do you think that was intended for us?”
“Or intended to make sure they couldn't talk to the police. Either way, looks like those guys were up to more than random burglary.”
Gil added, “And either way, the police are going to be asking us why.”
“Good point. I need to make a couple of phone calls.”
I pulled out my cell and called our lawyer.
“Dewey, Cheatham, and Howe, Attorneys at Law. Good morning, Jenny.”
“Dewey, have you taken on a couple of partners I don't know about?”
“Never mind, it's an old joke. What can I help you with?”
“I don't know if you've been following the news this morning, but apparently our alleged burglars this morning had some explosive mayhem in mind. The police are going to be looking to us for information, so have our 'Dissatisfied Customer' file ready to hand over. Don't give anything up without a warrant, but don't fight it either.”
“Will do.”
“I will let our current client know what is going on and advise her to contact you regarding any release of her information to the police.”
“I'll do my best to comply with her wishes.”
“I know you will. Bye.”
I hung up and placed a call to the client. I got her voice mail and left a brief synopsis and Dewey's contact info. I was looking up her home phone number when I got a notice that the message had been retrieved, so I switched gears and called Riki.
“Hey, Riki, have you seen the video?”
“Yep. Looks like a light anti-vehicular mine. Best as I can tell from the blast damage, it was sitting in the middle of the front seat with the charge facing towards the front.”
I connected my phone to the RV's sound system so everyone else could listen in. “You sure it was a mine and not some kind of pipe bomb?”
“I didn't see any pieces of casing, and the guy with the cell phone covered the area pretty thoroughly, maybe your brother should hire him. The only metal bits I saw were from the truck, which tells me it probably had a biodegradable organic shell. That makes it harder to detect and causes it to dissolve after a few months, rendering it inert. Though that second part doesn't work so well in the desert. The casing and liner are completely consumed by the explosion, making it ideal for covert operations.”
“Wow! I don't suppose you can tell me its home address?”
“Can't help you there. At least half a dozen countries make them, and many others buy them. Plus, they aren't too difficult to get on the black market. I've seen the results of Russian and Chinese versions in Iran, and was distantly involved in testing the US model when I was at Ft. Bliss. They're all pretty much the same. I've never seen one go off inside a vehicle like that, but the way it threw the engine block is telling. The non-metallic liner limits the penetrating power of the shaped charge, but it still generates a lot of force.”
“What would it have done to the RV?”
“Pretty much what it did to the truck. It probably wouldn't punch through the floor plates of your brother's LAV, but he wouldn't be driving anywhere afterward.”
“What sets it off?”
“Magnetic detector that picks up any significant mass of metal passing over it. The detector is activated and deactivated remotely.”
“And if someone activates it when there's enough metal in detection range...?”
“It goes off immediately. Intentional design feature. Mine a road, hide with the remote where you can see it, and you can pick one carload of bad guys out of a stream of civilian traffic.”
“Sounds like our boys were even stupider than I thought, or they have a boss that doesn't take failure well.”
“I'd bet on the latter. Anything else?”
“The police may come calling soon.”
“And I put on my best Sgt. Schultz impression and direct them to the lawyer.”
I exchanged goodbyes with her and hung up, not wanting to reveal for the second time that morning that I hadn't gotten the joke. At least Gil and Lance looked as clueless as I felt, although Dan let out a chuckle.
I had run out of the things to research, so I took over the driving when we got to Waco. A few hours later we had skirted around Dallas and were headed east on I-30. We stopped for an early lunch at a diner in Sulphur Springs, our last chance for a meal we didn't have to cook ourselves. After eating, Lance took over driving. He'd been to Paris once before, when he was working for Rob, so he was the best choice for this leg of the trip. We headed north from the interstate, arriving at a perimeter gate manned by the local police. Once I showed them my license, we were driving through abandoned territory.
We had maybe an hour before reaching our destination, so it was time to gear up. Our field clothing was a compromise between safety and comfort. We had lightweight Kevlar pants and jackets, woven through with titanium wire for extra bite protection, and an outer layer that was impermeable to fluids. It had to be loose fitting to keep us from boiling in our own juices in the summer heat, which had the drawback of making it easier for zombies to grab. To mitigate that, the outer surface was made as smooth and slick as possible. Leather boots and a helmet with full face shield completed the outfit. Everything was a medium gray to reduce visibility.
Once we were dressed, we strapped on our weapons. In addition to the carbines and handguns, Lance carried a 12 gauge bangstick like my brother's, while Gil and I each had a collapsible baton and a grenade for those odd little emergencies. Finally, Dan braided my hair, which I tucked under my jacket. It wasn't the most comfortable solution, but I'd rather do that than cut it short or leave it hanging out for zombies to grab. By the time we finished getting ready, we were approaching the outskirts of Paris.
Lance, who had dressed in field gear before taking the wheel, asked, “Where to, the high school?”
“Nah, head for the fairgrounds on the north side of town.”
“Gotcha. Good choice.”
Deciding where to set up camp in zombie country is another compromise. Conventional wisdom is to pick an open field that lets you see the infected approaching before they get close. The problem is that visibility works both ways. Zombies may not see too well in the daylight and lack the perception to distinguish fine details, but they will notice when a big honking RV appears in their territory and shamble over looking for food.
Our usual solution is to set up in the middle of the nearest high school football field. The stands and the field house will at least partially shield us from view, the fence is sometimes intact enough to give us an outer perimeter, we still have a clear field of fire of about 100' to the sidelines and twice that to the end zones. Plus, this being Texas, you have to be pretty far out in the desert before you're more than 40 miles or so from a football field.
When we're working in an abandoned county seat, the bull ring at the fairgrounds is even better. The stands typically go around all but one end and the fences tend to be sturdier.
“I'd like to check something out real quick,” Lance said. “Mind if we take a short detour?”
“Go ahead.”
Lance made a right turn, and I settled into the front passenger seat to see what he was up to. A few minutes later we were in front of a replica of the Eiffel Tower. It looked to be in pretty good shape, although the paint had faded badly on the giant red cowboy hat perched on the top. I swiveled one of the external cameras to get some footage of it.
“Well, it's still standing,” I said.
“Yep, but that's not what I'm interested in. Take a look to the right.”
I looked where he indicated and saw an array of upright granite slabs. “What is that?”
“The Red River Valley Veterans Memorial. See anything unusual?”
I looked again, not sure what he was talking about. Then it clicked. The flower beds surrounding the structure looked freshly weeded, the grass had been mowed, and the flag flying above it looked brand new. “Somebody has been tending it.”
“Exactly. I noticed it the last time I was out here. I did a little research and didn't find any official authorization to maintain the site.”
“Probably nothing to do with our business.”
“No, but it's right up your brother's alley. I suggest we not broadcast any images of the memorial and kick it over to Rob when he's back from his honeymoon.”
“Good idea.”
We continued through town, keeping a sharp eye out. There had been a sweep through this area a few weeks before, so we weren't too concerned about large packs but there was always the chance of stragglers. That might have been another reason for Castillo's timing in going to Paris. We didn't see any zombies and soon arrived at the fairgrounds. Gil and I checked the bull ring on foot, then cleared Lance to drive in and shut the gate behind him. Lance turned around and parked in the middle, facing the gate in case a quick getaway was necessary.
I took my rifle and climbed up on top of the RV to act as a lookout while the others finished setting up. Because it was designed for zombie country, the RV had a few extra features. It could be leveled by adjusting the suspension rather than using jacks, allowing us to bug out immediately if we had to. It also came equipped with an electric fence. Lance and Gil opened up a pair of outside doors behind the front seats and pulled out bundles of fence posts strung with wire from the compartments within.
They unrolled the fence around the perimeter, laying down a post every ten feet. Ash and Dan went along behind them, setting each post upright and activating the power auger at the base that seated each one firmly in the earth. That was another reason for using football fields and fairgrounds, the dirt was deep and free of rocks. There was a way to set up the fence on rocky ground or even concrete, but it took longer and made lots of noise. The fence doesn't enclose the front end of the RV, but there are no doors there and the windshield is too high for the zombies to reach. If we have to, we can cut the fence loose and drive off without it.
When they ran out of fence about eight feet behind the trailer, they took down the gate from the back of the RV and set it in place. Lance announced that the fence was live and turned on the juice. Then he took over lookout while I set up the solar panels on the roof. The panels don't quite generate enough power for our needs, but they do stretch out what we can get from the batteries. Under ideal conditions, the batteries will be completely drained sometime during the seventh night. In bad weather, they last maybe two days. There is a generator, but we try to avoid using it because the noise attracts unwelcome visitors.
Once the set up was done, we unloaded the ATVs and prepared to put the remaining hours of daylight to good use.
- 5
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One NIght in Paris, Texas