by Dirk Patton
The sound of a body crashing to the sand caused her to hesitate. It was Strickland, flat on his face. He’d tripped over an unseen stone just beneath the surface of the sand, and the noise he’d made had alerted the females. Their heads snapped around as Martinez accelerated to a run, then she was amongst them.
She moved as light as a dancer, her touch with the knife almost an art. In seconds, a throat had been slashed open and a heart pierced. Two females were down with hardly a sound. The third, no more than twenty feet away, opened her mouth to scream as she launched herself in attack. Martinez spun easily, deftly flicking the blade. It twisted once in the air, then buried itself to the hilt in the infected’s throat, cutting off any sound before it could come out.
Two fast steps and Martinez retrieved the knife, wiping it clean on the female’s wet clothing as she carefully scanned for more threats. For the moment, she didn’t see any additional infected and looked over her shoulder for Strickland. He was unmoving, still where he’d fallen.
“Give me a fucking break,” she muttered as she hurried to his side.
Reaching down, she checked for a pulse, finding it immediately. Releasing a small sigh of relief, she began checking him for injuries. Before she found anything wrong, he stirred with a groan, then jerked upright and raised his knife.
“We’re clear,” Martinez mumbled, placing her hand on his.
He looked at her, then at the three dead females. A few beats staring at them and he turned to look at her. Half his face was slicked with blood, but it was too dark for her to see where it was coming from. Reaching out, she felt around in the sand, quickly finding the sharp edge of another rock hiding just below the surface.
“Well, hell... ma’am. That’s just downright impressive.”
“You’re bleeding,” she said, lightly grasping his head to examine it.
“Head hurts a bit, too,” he said. “What happened?”
“Tripped over your own oversized feet and tried to break a rock with your skull.”
Carefully probing, she found a long gash on his scalp an inch above the hairline. He winced slightly when her finger accidentally pushed into the raw wound.
“You know what they say about big feet,” he said, voice tight with pain.
Martinez shook her head but couldn’t help but smile to herself as she shrugged out of her pack. A first aid kit was buried in the bottom and it took some rummaging to find it. Bringing out powdered blood clotter, she tore the package open with her teeth and met Strickland’s eyes.
“Trust me. That myth’s bullshit,” she said, bending his head down with one hand. “Dated this basketball player once. He wore size seventeen shoes. Tiniest cock I ever saw.”
Before Strickland could respond, she dumped the clotting powder directly into his open wound. He twitched once and hissed in pain but kept it together otherwise and stared back into her eyes.
“That’s a damn shame,” he said. “Should’ve dated a Navy man.”
“You flirt with Irina like this?” she asked as she packed the first aid kit away.
Strickland looked at her in surprise.
“You know Irina?”
“Yep. Igor, too. Crossed most of the North American continent with them.”
“They were captured. I was told it was being taken care of. You know what’s going on?”
Martinez hesitated, but decided to tell him the truth.
“There was a plan, but everything’s gone sideways. I don’t know if anyone’s going after them. Hell, I’m not even sure anyone other than me is still alive.”
Strickland stared at her in the dark for a long, silent moment.
“Do you know where they’re being held?”
“Phoenix,” Martinez answered, frowning at the SEAL.
He took a deep breath and puffed it out as he thought.
“You’re a pilot,” he suddenly said. “We find an aircraft, can you get us there?”
“The Admiral wants your ass in Hawaii in short order,” Martinez said.
“He doesn’t care about me. It’s the file I found that he wants. Igor and Irina are friends. Ain’t leavin’ them behind.”
“Look. I know what’s in that file and it needs to get to Hawaii. But...”
“What?” he asked when she didn’t continue.
“Supposed to be a ride coming. That’s why I was heading to Vandenberg. We send the file back with him and you and I go to Arizona. Irina and Igor are my friends, too.”
Strickland watched her for a moment, satisfying himself that she was sincere. Slowly, a grin split his blood slicked face.
“Then let’s get moving,” he said. “And while we walk, I’ll explain the benefits of being with a Navy man to you.”
“Well, better come up with something else. That’s going to be a really short explanation.”
25
“Honey!” Rachel cried.
Mavis had just shuddered violently for a second, then blinked and her eyes were once again normal. She was drawn, sweat beading her face. Rachel wrapped her into an embrace and Dog wormed his way in between them.
“Did you talk to him?” Lucas asked, kneeling next to Rachel and looking intently at Mavis.
“How did you know?” she asked.
“Just do,” Lucas said, smiling. “Well? Did you?”
Mavis looked at him a moment, then lowered her eyes and put her hand on Dog’s head.
“I couldn’t make it work,” she said in a small voice.
“Should I cancel the medics?” Jessica asked quietly, touching Rachel’s shoulder.
Rachel gently lifted Mavis’s chin and looked into her eyes for a long moment.
“I’m okay,” Mavis said. “Sorry if I scared you. But John needs our help.”
Rachel nodded and Jessica moved back to her console, picking up the phone and calling off the Navy corpsmen that were on the way.
“Lucas, how’d you get back from the mainland?” Rachel asked without looking away from Mavis.
“Same way I got there. That plane we took from Australia. The really fast one.”
Rachel turned to face him.
“Is it still here?”
It took a second for realization of what she was thinking to dawn.
“Now, hold on. You are not going to the mainland.”
“Didn’t realize I needed your permission,” she said, standing and glaring at him with her hands on her hips.
Lucas was at a loss. There were so many reasons that Rachel’s hairbrained idea was bad that he didn’t know where to start.
“You’re pregnant,” he finally stammered.
“I swear to God,” Rachel fumed. “The next man that tells me I can’t do something because I’m pregnant is going to be a eunuch. Now, will you help me, or do I have to find another way?”
“John needs us!” Mavis said, staring up at Lucas.
“I bring you to the mainland, he’s going to kill me. Probably, literally.”
“Quit being a dramatic baby. He might yell at you---”
“Oh, he’ll do more than that.”
“So you’re going to let your friend die?”
“Jesus Christ!” Lucas said. “You don’t even know there’s anything wrong with him!”
“Then why was he laying in the goddamn road? That seem normal to you?”
Lucas looked at the monitor on Jessica’s station but wasn’t ready to relent.
“Let’s say we jump into a plane and make the trip. What then? You going to take a whole medical suite with you? And even if you do, if it’s the virus... well, what then?”
Rachel stared into his eyes, breathing hard. Though she didn’t want to, she had to acknowledge that Lucas made a good point.
“I can solve that problem,” she said after a moment’s thought. “Will you help me? Will you help John?”
Lucas wasn’t happy with being put on the spot. Turning to Jessica, he started to speak but she preempted him.
“Don’t look at me,” she said. “I’m o
n her side.”
“Fuck me,” Lucas grumbled. “Okay. Tell me how you plan to help him when we get there.”
Rachel flashed him a smile, whirled and began talking with Jessica in a quiet voice. Lucas met Mavis’s eyes and tried a smile that didn’t quite work. He was far from happy and also worried about Rachel and Mavis’s safety.
“How bad is he?” he quietly asked Mavis after checking to make sure Rachel was still absorbed with Jessica.
“Bad,” Mavis said, clinging to Dog. “I know that much. Just don’t know why.”
“Let’s go,” Rachel said, grabbing Mavis’s hand and giving Lucas a push.
“Sure as hell hope you know what you’re doing,” he groused.
“Quit complaining and make sure our ride’s ready to go. Are we going to the same airstrip we flew into from Australia?”
“That’s where I landed, but it’s another little problem. Base is locked down. We can’t just drive off.”
“How’d you get on?”
“Colonel Chapman.”
“Good,” Rachel said. “Give him a call. I need to talk to him anyway.”
26
“Admiral’s going to shit red, white and blue bricks when he finds out about this,” Chapman said.
It was half an hour later and he stood with Rachel, Lucas and Mavis at the edge of the airstrip. Dog was busily nosing through the bushes, searching for anything more entertaining than humans.
“Worried?” Rachel asked with an arched brow.
Chapman made a dismissive sound with his lips.
“I’m retired. What’s he gonna do?”
“Throw all of us in lockup,” Lucas said, but didn’t sound concerned.
“Maybe,” Chapman conceded with a shrug. “From what I hear, Colonel Chase should’ve had the book thrown at him on at least half a dozen occasions, but he’s still running around, free.”
“He does what needs doing,” Rachel said, more defensively than she intended.
“Meant no offense,” Chapman said.
“Sorry, Colonel. Been a stressful few days,” Rachel said, gently touching Chapman’s arm in apology. “And thank you for your help.”
Chapman looked at her for a moment, turning to look across the ocean at the faint sound of approaching jet engines.
“Just doing what needs doing, ma’am,” he said, eyes fixed on the horizon.
They all fell silent as the hypersonic transport’s engines suddenly grew loud, then the big plane slammed onto the end of the runway. The bass roar as Vance activated the thrust reversers was intense enough to shake the ground, and with the active camouflage making the aircraft all but invisible it was a surreal experience watching it shudder to a stop.
Chapman’s Marines rushed forward as the rear ramp quickly descended, then three Humvees drove onto the tarmac and up into the cavernous interior of the plane. With a tight grip on Mavis’s hand, Rachel led the way and they hurried inside, coming face to face with a smiling Vance.
“Doc! Miss me?”
He wrapped Rachel in a gentle hug.
“Thanks for doing this,” she said when he stepped back.
“We ready to go?” he asked.
“Waiting on one more,” Chapman interjected. “He’s in route, five minutes out.”
“Okay. I’m going to take care of some personal business in the bushes then. Your guys know how to secure those vehicles properly? Don’t need a bunch of three-ton wrecking balls breaking lose if I have to maneuver.”
“We’ve got it handled, Commander.”
Vance glanced over his shoulder at four Marines that were chaining a Humvee to anchor points, nodded and hurried down the ramp. Chapman walked over to double check their work as the rest of the group found seats. Dog claimed a web sling next to Mavis with his head in her lap.
“Still don’t think this is a good idea. You two going to the mainland, I mean,” Lucas grumbled quietly to Rachel once they were situated.
“Give it a rest, Lucas,” she said. “Please?”
They looked at each other for a beat before he nodded and turned away.
“We need to hurry,” Mavis suddenly said.
“We will, honey,” Rachel said, putting her arm around the girl’s narrow shoulders. “But we may need the man who’s coming with us.”
“Why?”
Before Rachel could answer, a Hummer screeched to a stop at the bottom of the ramp. Joe Revard stepped out of the passenger side, moving stiffly, the Marine driver retrieving two large and heavy duffels from the back of the vehicle. Rachel leapt up and ran to greet him, stopping short of throwing her arms around the injured man.
“You okay?” she asked, peering at his swollen and battered face.
“No,” Joe said as he slowly climbed the ramp.
Once inside the aircraft, Rachel got a better look at her friend. Joe had been captured and tortured by Viktoriya in her quest to obtain the cure that would have prevented John’s blood from saving Barinov’s life. He’d been beaten so badly that surgery had been necessary to repair his face. He should still be in the hospital, recovering, not heading into a war zone.
“Bloody hell,” Lucas said when he saw Joe. “What happened to you, mate?”
Mavis stared at Joe with wide eyes, relaxing slightly when Dog thumped his tail in greeting.
“Told a woman she couldn’t have what she wanted,” Joe said, gingerly lowering himself into a seat.
“Aye. That’ll do it,” Lucas said after a moment’s thought.
Joe tried a grin that failed miserably and elicited a hiss of pain.
“So, what’s wrong with Stupid Fucking White Man?” he asked Rachel.
“We don’t know,” Rachel said. “Just know he needs help.”
Joe nodded then looked up at Vance when the pilot came to a stop and stared at his face.
“Piss someone off?” he asked.
“No, thought I was too pretty so I had some white man ugly added.”
“Think they overdid it a little,” Vance said without missing a beat.
He moved away to check the job the Marines had done in securing the Hummers and nodded in approval.
“Okay, boys and girls. It’s a short runway and we’ve gotta clear the airspace fast, so it’ll be a steep climb out,” Vance said loudly, then looked at Rachel with a twinkle in his eye. “Hold on to your tits and ass!”
“He always like that?” Joe asked as the pilot headed for the cockpit.
“You have no idea,” Rachel sighed, rolling her eyes. “And whatever you do, don’t ask him about his balls.”
27
Jessica sat on the bench overlooking Pearl Harbor, enjoying the break from staring at a computer screen. If she leaned far forward and looked to her right, in the distance she could see the frantic work being performed on a large freighter ship. Everything that wasn’t essential to its operation had been ripped out and it was being prepared to make its final voyage, transporting thousands of people to the mainland.
Reaching into her small purse, she retrieved a pack of cigarettes. Lighting one, she paused and looked at it in contemplation. Turning the pack upside down, she squinted at the tax stamp, not surprised it was from two years ago. It was close to that long since any cigarette had been manufactured and the tobacco had lost much of its flavor.
Like everything that had been produced prior to the beginning of the end of the world, cigarettes were now in very short supply. Recognizing this early on, she’d stockpiled an impressive number of cartons, but her supply was hardly infinite. In fact, only two remained, stashed away in her quarters. Soon, she would have to quit because there was no one and nowhere to grow tobacco.
“Probably for the best,” she said aloud, taking a deep drag of smoke.
“What would that be, Chief?”
Startled, Jessica looked around and jumped to her feet when she saw Admiral Packard standing behind her. Palming the burning cigarette in her left hand, she snapped up a salute, holding it until he’d returned the display
of respect. He waved her back to her seat, waiting to sit until she was.
“Quitting smoking, sir. My supply is running low and it’s not like I can run to town and buy some more. I was thinking that it’s probably for the best because I don’t see myself just putting them down. Damn things aren’t good for you.”
“Quite right,” Packard said with a chuckle as he lit his own and inhaled deeply.
They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, watching a small but heavily armed patrol boat move across the blue water of the harbor.
“Have you heard anything from Colonel Chapman? They should be approaching the California coast.”
Jessica was raising a cigarette to her mouth and hesitated briefly when the Admiral spoke. Turning her head slowly, she looked at him through a wreath of smoke.
“Relax, Chief. It was an educated guess.”
“I’m sorry, sir. We weren’t trying to ---”
“Didn’t think you were,” he interrupted. “In fact, I’d have been surprised if the people involved hadn’t done something like this.”
They sat quietly, smoking. Jessica was relieved that she wasn’t in trouble, but as she sat there she couldn’t help but feel like she’d betrayed the Admiral’s trust.
“Want to know something, Chief?”
“Sir?”
“I’m old. Came up in a far different world than your generation. And several generations before you, if I’m telling the truth,” Packard said with a wry smile. “My father fought in World War Two and Korea. I did three tours in Vietnam. And you know what I learned?”
“What’s that, sir?”
“There’re two types of soldiers. Now, I’m lumping Marines and Navy and Air Force, along with the Army, all into that description, so bear with me. Two types. Know what those are, Chief?”
“I have no idea, sir.”
“You do, you just don’t realize it. So, let me tell you. First, there are the ones who comprise the bulk of the military. They work hard. They drill. They do their jobs to the best of their abilities. Those are the men and women that make the military work, and account for probably ninety nine percent of us. With me so far?”
