Hollis walked back inside and caught Hatcher just as he was entering a rear bedroom. “Tomorrow will be all about survival. We’ll need to find more water, possibly provisions.” He glanced back down the hallway and lowered his voice. “I wouldn’t count on help coming for at least a couple of days.”
Hatcher nodded knowingly. “We can break into groups and check the other houses for supplies first thing in the morning if you like.”
“Sounds good to me. Try to rest. We’ll start at sunup.” Hollis turned and left, and Hatcher peeled his outer shirt off. He tossed some of the junk off the bed and laid down. It took him a moment to relax and enjoy the softness of the mattress. Being stuck with an old Army cot at the warehouse had gotten him used to sleeping stiffly and he caught himself smiling at the cloudlike feel of the mattress.
“Ah, heaven…”
Roger rode slowly through the narrow streets, his headlight causing shadows along the edges of the road that unnerved him. Besides being wary of another attack from the infected, his mind kept turning back to Candy.
He enjoyed trying to get under her skin. He liked that he had an effect on her. He knew she did the right thing in telling him to leave, but he never thought that it would bother him. For the briefest of moments, he had allowed himself to gravitate to a new woman, and it wasn’t until now, as he rode Simon’s men away from the warehouse, he began to feel guilty.
His hand automatically went to his pocket where he kept the last physical reminder of his wife. He slowed the bike and was tempted to pull the photograph out. He felt the need to look at it and remember a time when the world wasn’t trying to kill each other off. He paused just short of unzipping the pocket when movement in the corner of his eye snapped his attention back to the here and now.
The quiet street that he and the men travelled was suddenly alive with screaming infected. He locked up his brakes and slid to a short stop. The road ahead was quickly filling with the rage-fueled monsters and he could see they were about to be surrounded.
He kicked the bike into gear and opened the throttle, spinning the bike around in the other direction.
“Move it!” Roger shouted as he accelerated through the group of bikers behind him. As he approached the screaming mass closing in their exit, he suddenly wished that the bike was smaller. Small enough he could effectively pop a wheelie and use the undercarriage as a shield. Instead, he ducked low against the tank of the bike and twisted the throttle full open.
Unexpectedly, the thin crowd widened and stepped aside, letting the Indian Chief slip past their trap. Roger glanced behind him, expecting to see the others shoot through the closing gap, but there was nothing.
He slowed the bike as he approached the next turn and stopped at the intersection. He stared behind him and saw the crowd closing further and further in on itself. He knew what was at the center of the formation and he shuddered at the violent end his men were now suffering.
They wouldn’t suffer long.
Roger stared at the crowd for a moment longer, then turned his attention back to the road. He kicked the Indian into gear once more and was about to let out the clutch, when he spotted something at the edge of his headlight beam.
Across the street, standing on the hood of an old Buick was a lone infected. He held a pipe in his hand.
Roger stared hard at the man, his mind trying to comprehend what his eyes were telling him. Could it be the same Zulu that attacked him earlier? He didn’t consciously decide to act, but he found his arm rising into the air. He gave the infected an open-handed wave and the man reacted.
He jumped to the roof of the car and shook the pipe over his head, much like his previous attacker had. Roger lowered his hand, feeling much the fool for thinking that the creature might respond in any fashion other than anger. He revved the engine and released the clutch.
He had someplace to be.
Jason stood over Bren’s still form, his eyes taking in the movements of her breathing. Each time she exhaled, he waited, hoping she would inhale again. He couldn’t be certain, but it seemed like the gap between breaths was growing longer with each rise of her chest.
He tore his eyes away from her and spotted Dr. LaRue. He approached her quietly and motioned her to the side. “Tell me she’s going to make it.”
He could see her eyes squint as she tried to smile under the mask she wore. “Of course, she will. She’ll be fine. We just need to get her strength back up.”
Jason blew his breath out hard and wiped at the sweat on his forehead. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it doc. She’s out like a light and can’t hear you.” He leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “She’s really sick, ain’t she?”
“Well, of course she’s sick. Otherwise we wouldn’t have brought her here.”
Jason gave her a hard look. “You know what I mean. She’s got something. Something worse than the bug that killed off the whole world.”
Vivian shook her head, holding her gloved hands up to calm him. “We can’t know anything of the sorts. Most likely scenario is she’s contracted a virus since being here that her body is having trouble fighting off.” She pulled him to the side and tried to get him to sit. “With any infection, there are always risks of secondary infection. Meaning, yes, she probably has a viral infection, but that can cause bacterial infections as well. Because of that, we’ve put her on a pretty strong dose of antibiotics, and shortly we’ll be adding antivirals. We’ll keep pushing the fluids, and once she feels a little stronger we can—”
He stood and towered over her. “I don’t want any more of your rainbows and unicorns bullshit.” He pointed at her and glowered at the woman. “She’s sick.” He marched over to Bren’s bed and lifted her arm, letting it drop to the mattress. “She’s unresponsive. She’s out of it. Tell me this isn’t bad.”
“We can’t know what she’s—”
“There ya go again!” He marched over to the doctor and pulled her mask down hard. She jumped back, her hands quickly pulling the mask back up.
“Why would you do that?” Her eyes were as wide as saucers as she backed slowly from him.
“If she were just sick with some common bug from here on the ship, you wouldn’t be pissing your pants over that stupid mask.”
Her head shook nervously as she continued to back away from him. “We can’t risk infecting her with anything that…that we might have…”
He slowly approached her, his head shaking. “Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit.” He jabbed a finger in her face. “You know it’s all bullshit.”
Vivian took a deep breath and stepped to the door. “Get him out of here. I don’t care if you put him in his room, lock him up, or…or…” She glanced at Jason and her eyes narrowed. “Or throw him off the damned boat and let him swim to shore. Just get him the hell out of here!”
Jason backed away, his hands up defensively, his eyes wide. “No! No, I want to stay with…get your hands off me!” He struggled against the two large men in white and was unceremoniously picked up and carried out of the infirmary.
Vivian watched him kick and scream as the two orderlies removed him from her workspace. She blew out a breath and gingerly sat down, her hands shaking as she pulled the mask from her face. “This shit is getting out of hand.”
Vicky slowly paced, her mind trying to grasp the big picture. “You’re telling me they’re learning?”
“I don’t know if I can say that, but they’re definitely acting differently.” Roger watched her walk back and forth across the small space and was feeling even more nervous from her actions. “I can’t even tell you for sure it was the same guy, but he was carrying a piece of pipe and shook it at me the same way.”
“And this was how many blocks from the first attack?”
He shrugged. “Maybe four? I’m pretty sure it was the next section line over. Each section is about a mile. The larger thru-streets are laid out about a mile apart and—”
She held her hand up to stop him. “I grew up here. I know what you me
an.” She sighed and increased the speed of her pacing.
“Shouldn’t Candy be hearing this?”
Vicky paused and glanced toward the office. “I think she may be sleeping off a liquid lunch.”
Roger hiked a brow. “She’s lit?”
Vicky shrugged slowly. “She hasn’t been sleeping well lately. The liquid lunch was to calm her nerves.” She spun on him and seemed much more excited about the idea that popped into her head. “I mean, you did just drop a bombshell on us. The whole biker marauder thing…and telling her that they were practically knocking on our door…”
He nodded slowly. “So, she finds out there’s a threat and decides to get drunk. Nice.” He stood slowly and froze when he heard Candy’s voice.
“Not drunk.” She walked slowly toward the pair. “Just…resting a bit.” She stopped and eyed him carefully. “You’re back.”
He nodded. “We rode into a trap. The second one for me.” He sighed heavily. “Except this time, they didn’t make it out.”
“You seem awfully upset.” Candy’s voice was cold and detatched.
He looked up and met her gaze. “Not everybody who rides with Simon is a bad person.”
“No, they just do bad things in his name, right?”
He opened his mouth to argue, but knew that whatever he said, she’d find a way to twist it around on him. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me why you came back here.”
Roger gave her a confused look and she stepped closer, her voice rising in pitch and tempo. “Why did you decide to come back here, Roger?”
He stepped back slightly and raised his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I thought…”
“You thought what?” she nearly barked.
“Candy!” Vicky stomped her foot to get her attention.
“No. No, it’s a legitimate question.” Roger turned back to Candy. “I guess I thought maybe I could come back here and…I dunno. Try to build a life or something.” He shot her a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “I guess I was wrong.”
He spun and marched toward the doors. Vicky turned wide eyes to Candy. “You’re just going to let him leave?”
Candy watched him walk away, her mind fighting with her heart. Just as he reached for the door she yelled, “Stop!”
Roger held the door slightly open and waited. He didn’t want to look over his shoulder in case she had pulled a gun on him…not that he would blame her. He wouldn’t trust himself, either.
“Come back,” Vicky implored. “We can work this out. She just needs to hear what you told me.”
“What did he tell you?”
Roger approached them slowly, his face unreadable. “When I left, I rode into a trap. One of the infected…acted smart.” He gave her a knowing look that she completely missed. “I escaped and ran into the boys from the pack. We rode about a mile over and damned if we didn’t run into another trap.”
“That you escaped from,” Candy added.
“I was the only one.”
She smirked. “How convenient.”
“Why are you being such a bitch?” Vicky asked. She leaned in close and whispered, “No more brown liquor for you.”
Roger chose to ignore the comment.
“At the time, I wasn’t worried about convenience. But I did think that maybe it was a way for me to get out. If I had someplace to go, I could take my bike back over there and dump it with theirs. When Simon rides through town and finds the remains, he’d think I bit it right along with them.”
She considered his words and had to swallow the lump forming in her throat. She didn’t want to imagine he wanted to return to their group. Part of her wished he had just kept on riding. That way if nothing came of her fantasies, she couldn’t be hurt by it.
The other part was glad he’d come back. She wanted him to stay. She just didn’t want to tell him that.
She took a deep breath and nodded slightly. “Vicky, have one of the boys follow him back. Let him dump the bike and give him a ride back.”
Roger hiked a brow at her. “I can stay?”
She nodded ever so slightly. “Just make sure it looks like you didn’t survive the trap.” She turned and walked back to the office.
She needed a hair of the dog.
Chapter 6
Hatcher jumped when Hollis shook his foot to wake him. “The sun’s up.”
Hatcher rolled to the edge of the mattress and felt the bones in his back pop and crack. He stretched slowly and was surprised that sleeping on such a soft surface would cause him to ache the way he did.
“Fuck me, getting old sucks.” He groaned as he stood and pulled his overshirt back on. He tugged his boots on and quickly laced them.
Hollis tossed an MRE at him. “I think it’s an omelet. Not sure that I’d trust one myself, but in case you’re hungry.”
Hatcher glanced at the brown bag and shook his head. “I’m not gonna eat it. Hey, let’s get Mikey.”
Hollis missed the joke. “Who’s Mikey?”
Hatcher rolled his eyes and tossed it back to him. “Give it to the, kid. He looks like he’s missed enough meals.”
Hollis grunted. “He’s eaten two already.” He shook his head and shot Hatcher a lopsided grin. “If we go anywhere in the trucks today, he’s not riding with me.”
Hatcher fought back a smile as he slowly stood and tested his aching muscles. “Let’s do this. The day isn’t getting any younger.”
The pair walked out to the driveway and Hatcher opened the door as Hollis walked past the truck. “It’s just over that hill.” He waved to the ranger. “No sense wasting fuel.”
“What if there’s more than we can carry?” He closed the door and fell into step beside him.
“Then we make two trips.” Hollis scanned the brushy woods surrounding the house. “I feel like there’s eyes on us. I don’t want to attract any more than we already have.”
Hatcher couldn’t argue with the logic.
The hike to the nearest house was much farther than either man had thought. They were glad it was uphill so that the return to base with a load of supplies could be easier.
Hatcher tried to peek into the windows, but the gloom inside prevented him from seeing anything. “We could knock.”
Hollis shrugged. “If there’s any Zeds inside, they already know they have neighbors.” He kicked the door open and his men streamed inside. They performed a standard tactical sweep and declared the building clear.
Hollis went to the garage and Hatcher checked the kitchen. As he prowled through the remains, Buck approached, breathing hard. “Why didn’t you tell me you were heading out? I wanted to come with you.”
“You were eating. Besides, we’re just getting supplies.” Hatcher opened a cabinet door and pulled out a partial bottle of whiskey. He dropped it into the pillow case and continued digging.
“There should still be food stuffs. I couldn’t carry much when I checked these places.” Buck kicked at the debris littering the floor. He suddenly looked up and smiled. “I’ll be right back.”
Hatcher watched him disappear and reappear a moment later carrying a large package of toilet paper. “This stuff is worth its weight in gold.” The kid shook the package at him and Hatcher fought a smile.
“Tired of leaves?”
“My butt is.” Buck spun a chair around and fell into it. “You do realize that the wrong leaves can do some serious damage, right?”
“Like poison ivy?” Hatcher tried not to think of the consequences.
“Worse. Some of them can cut you.” Buck gave him a knowing look. “I’m sure you’ve had a paper cut before? Imagine one…down there.”
“I’d rather not.” Hatcher dropped more goods into the bag and tied the corners together with twine. He slung it over his shoulder and pulled out the next one.
“The Army guys have MRE’s. Why gather all of this stuff?”
Hatcher paused, unsure if he wanted to tell the kid everything. He set the bag down a
nd turned back to the cabinets. “They might not send somebody after us. If that’s the case, we’re gonna have to drive to the closest radio that will reach their command, and that might take a while.”
Buck nodded slowly. “Better to stock up and not need it. I gotcha.”
“That’s the plan, anyway.” Hatcher finished clearing the cabinets and tied the corners of that pillow case. He handed it to Buck. “I think that’s it.”
Hollis stepped back in from the garage. “They have a gas grill out here and the propane tank is full.”
Hatcher shrugged. “IED?”
“Only as a last resort.”
A soldier stepped around the corner holding a box. “Pantry is empty, sir.”
“Let’s head back.” Hollis picked through the contents of the box and nodded. “It may be a hodgepodge, but it beats MRE’s.” He grabbed a pillow case from Hatcher and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Last one back cooks supper.”
Hatcher grunted. “Trust me, you don’t want me to cook. You’d be better off eating your Ramen noodles raw.”
“Then I guess we better beat the kid back ’cuz I can’t cook for shit, either.”
Buck smiled to himself. “Try eating raw fish. It sustains you, but it sure is hard to choke down.”
“It’s just sushi, kid. Back before the world died, people used to pay big bucks for that crap,” Hollis said, pushing him towards the door.
“I doubt they wanted it with scales, bones, and guts.”
“And I thought mercury levels was the thing to worry about.”
Hollis’ radio barked to life. “Sir, we have contact!”
Roger laid his jacket down over what he thought was once an arm. It had been stripped clean of flesh, and there was surprisingly little blood. He picked up the jacket again and walked to another area, looking for something bloody to smear on it.
“Just drop the damned thing and let’s get out of here.”
Roger looked to Henry and shook his head. “It needs to look like there was a struggle.”
Henry snorted. “That jacket is so roughed up, it already looks like there was a struggle.” He climbed down from the pickup and walked into the middle of the kill zone. He snatched the jacket from Roger and slapped it a few times on the dark spots on the ground then slammed the back of the jacket against a jagged piece of metal that had once been a car door, spearing it into place.
Countdown to Oblivion Page 5
