Almost immediately screams could be heard behind them and he mounted his bike. “We need to figure out what those flashes are.” Slug glared at him, still not speaking. “If it’s survivors, they might have what we need.”
Slug kicked the bike into gear and pulled ahead. Squirrel started his Indian and pulled out behind him, putting as much distance as they could between themselves and the screams behind them.
The pair rode up toward the ridge and parked on the closest paved road to where they saw the flashes. “I’ll take a look. You keep an eye out for the ragers.” Squirrel stepped toward the top of the ridge and saw where the dirt had been disturbed, but he couldn’t see any discernable tracks. Whoever it was had lain upon the ground and watched them. He could see where they had come and gone, but the ground was too hard to reveal tracks that could tell him which set was the approach and which set was the departure. He stared in both directions, hoping to see either a fleeing form or dust from their running.
Nothing.
He marched back down toward the bikes and shook his head. “I can see where they were, but can’t tell which way they went.”
“So, you ride an Indian, but you ain’t got none in ya?” Slug smiled through brown teeth.
Squirrel mounted his bike and decided he liked Slug better when he was quiet. He caught another flash in the distance and for a moment thought, Damn they were moving fast! After he watched the reflection a moment longer, he realized it was the other riders in their group. He slapped at Slug’s sleeve and pointed. “We need to gather the troops.”
Henry backed the two and half-ton truck to the front doors of the grocery store while others jumped out of pickups, vans, and any other vehicle that could haul goods and people. Wally appeared in his side mirror and waved him back. When he waved his hands, Henry set the parking brake and shut off the engine.
He hopped down from the cab and marched toward the front door with a crowbar. “Remember your roles, people!”
He shoved the bar between the doors and pried them open. Two others pulled the doors fully-open and held them while four men with rifles entered the building in a tactical formation.
Henry tossed the crow bar to Wally, then pulled his pistol. “Let’s clear this beast and beat feet.”
“I’m with ya.” Wally tossed the crowbar into the back of the truck and pulled down the loading ramp. He turned to Henry and nodded. “Ready.”
Like a well-oiled machine, once the building was cleared, the people shopping all grabbed buggies and began racing down the aisles grabbing anything that still looked usable. Some took the time to stack items in order to fit more, others used an arm clearing motion to sweep stuff into the buggies. Once full, they ran them to the front of the store and switched out for another buggy. People assigned to the front would either unload the buggies into vehicles or muscle them up the loading ramp of the bigger truck and park the buggies in the far end.
Wally and Henry had specific instructions from Vicky. Hit the pharmacy and clean them out. Nothing was to be left behind. Even an out of date medication was better than nothing in an emergency. She wanted every bandage, every bottle of alcohol, every medication, and anything that even remotely could be used in a medical emergency.
They filled three buggies with nothing but the medications behind the counter, and two more with the over the counter meds. They lost count of how many more buggies they filled with anything from the shelves that might be usable.
Their goal was to strip the store of everything but the fixtures, but it quickly became obvious that, even with the dozens of people gathering items, there was no way they could empty the large store in one trip.
Henry and Wally stood at the front of the store and wondered how the folks stacking the goods had lifted the overloaded buggies to stack on top of each other, but they did.
“I’m too old for this shit.” Wally huffed as he pulled the doors shut on the largest truck. He picked up the loading ramp and wondered where all of the extra weight had come from since he’d unloaded it.
“I don’t know if I should be happy or sad that we couldn’t get it all.” Henry leaned against the side of the truck and shook his head. “We could make three more trips and still not get it all.”
Wally smiled. “So we come back again. And again, and—”
“No way Candy will let us. Not while she thinks there are marauders out there.” He looked sadly at the store as the last of the shoppers exited and people shoved the goods into their vehicles. “If those fuckers are coming, there ain’t nothing to stop them from raiding this place and picking it clean.”
Wally patted the man’s shoulder. “Cheer up, man. We have enough crap to last a year, and you’re worried somebody else might come upon this?”
Henry nodded. “And the realization that this place was untouched.” He glanced out toward the rest of the town. “Can we safely assume there are no more survivors out there?”
Wally shrugged. “Not our problem, man.” He pointed to the people loading up in their vehicles. “These people are our problem. And the way I see it, we just did good.”
Henry sighed and leaned his head back against the side of the box truck. “Maybe we can convince Candy we can squeeze in one more run?”
“Even if we can’t, it’s fuckin’ Christmas, dude!” Wally shot him a toothy grin, then disappeared around the side of the truck. Henry groaned and opened the cab. He climbed up into the seat and started the big diesel engine.
“Yay.” He muttered to himself as he realized that they still had to unload all of this. “Christmas.”
Chapter 11
To his credit, Hollis said little while Hatcher recounted his tale of dealing with Vickers. He seemed honestly surprised to learn it was the colonel’s recklessness that caused the shit storm the world was now trying to survive.
Hatcher paused his story while Captain Hollis barked orders and the two oversaw the men preparing the trucks. Just after they got the first Humvee started, Hatcher finished his tail and waited for Hollis to say something.
“That’s quite a story you have there, Mr. Hatcher.”
“It’s not just a story. It’s the truth.”
“I have no doubt that you believe that.”
Hatcher suddenly stiffened and glared at the military man.
“You don’t believe me.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I’m not saying I believe you or that I think you’re being less than honest.” Hollis slapped the dirt from his hands and turned to face the shorter man. “I just can’t wrap my mind around the idea this whole mess is because Colonel Vickers used force in…an unconventional manner.”
“Unconventional manner? He blew the top off the fucking mountain and got the virus airborne.” Hatcher ground his teeth while he studied the man. “If he’d done his job, instead of—”
“And what would you have had him do?” Hollis stared at him. “Precisely, what would you have had him do?”
“Oh, I dunno. Maybe cordon off the area, gather the survivors, try to contain the infected. Get them some help before things got out of hand.”
Hollis nodded thoughtfully. “I see. And how exactly does one cordon off…how many acres is this park?”
Hatcher swallowed hard and continued to glare at him. “Two and a quarter million.”
Hollis nodded. “I see. And Vickers had…what? Maybe two dozen men with him?” He glared back at Hatcher.
“He could have tried.”
“Mr. Hatcher, I’m not here to get into a pissing contest with you. Hindsight is blessedly 20/20. Could have, should have, would have…those are all nice to consider after the fact.” Hollis opened the door to the Humvee and stepped up into it. “But the fact remains there was a contagion and Colonel Vickers was ordered here to contain it. Did he make the wrong decision? Obviously. But did he do it out of ignorance or a desire to destroy the world?” He pulled the door shut and waved the man closer. “I think we both know the answer to that question.”
> “He was warned.” Hatcher gripped the side of the window and leaned closer. “His own people told him the virus was…what was the word? It liked hot stuff. Dropping a bomb on it just made it more comfortable.”
“Perhaps.” Hollis motioned him to the other side of the transport. “But we can’t know what the man was thinking. And while I believe what you stated happened, it doesn’t mean that I believe Vickers did what he did to spite anybody’s warning. I have to believe he acted in what he thought was the best interest of everybody.”
Hatcher pulled the door shut and shook his head. “Then you’re as big a fool as he is.”
“Isn’t that obvious? I’m here, aren’t I?” Hollis gave him a crooked smile. “What say we grab this bug and get the hell out of here?”
“Just drop me off at my compound when we’re through.” Hatcher propped his arm on the open window rest. “If I saw Vickers again, I think I’d finish what we started in the center.”
“Understood.” Hollis pulled the Humvee around and allowed two of his troops to climb into the back seats. He watched through the side mirrors and when the second truck pulled in behind him, he accelerated. “Just point the way.”
“There’s probably a huge blockage of vehicles on the road to your right. Take the trail on the left.” Hatcher avoided the man’s eyes and stared out the window as Hollis turned and accelerated.
Hatcher’s eyes scanned the trees for movement. He didn’t realize how paranoid he’d become since the fall of civilization, but one simply could not be too careful these days. He nearly jumped when the roof began banging and a soldier dropped down from the gun turret and pointed over Hollis’ shoulder.
“We got movement.”
“Don’t fire until it’s identified. That fifty can be heard for miles, and we don’t need any more help attracting the local wildlife.” Hollis tried to watch the vehicle in front of him and scan the area at the same time.
As the lead vehicle rounded a curve, it suddenly stopped and Hollis practically stood on the brakes to keep from hitting the Humvee in front of him. “What the hell!” He set the parking brake and threw open his door, intent on chewing somebody’s ass.
As he approached the driver, he noted the passengers had disembarked and were setting up a defensive perimeter. The driver stepped out and leveled his carbine on the woods to his left.
“What’s wrong…” Hollis’ words trailed off as he stared at the large trees laying across the trail. He turned and pointed to Hatcher. “Is there another way?”
Hatcher stared at the downed trees and shook his head. He walked closer to the fallen trees and snapped a twig from the branch. “These have been here a while.” He held the branch up to Hollis and snapped it. “They’re drying out already.”
“And that means what to me?”
Hatcher tossed the twigs aside. “It means this isn’t recent. Whoever did this was either marking territory or blocking a trail that others used.”
Hollis raised a brow. “You mean these things have marked territory now? Are we gonna find that some alpha male has hiked on every tree between here and his cave?” He couldn’t help but smirk.
Hatcher shrugged. “I have no idea their behaviors, captain. All I know is what this looks like to me.”
Hollis groaned and motioned to two of the rear guards. “Winch those things out of the way. Cut ’em up if you have to.”
Hatcher leaned across the hood of the Humvee and stretched his neck. “Nobody said this would be easy.”
“No, Mr. Hatcher, they didn’t.” Hollis watched as the men wrapped chain and began to attempt to drag the logs from the road. “I just hope we don’t run into too many more of these, or we may not make the site by nightfall.”
Hatcher’s face rose and he studied Hollis’ features. “Nightfall?”
“I have no intention of staying here past dark. From what we’ve gathered, these things have no trouble seeing in the dark. We, on the other hand, do not have that luxury.”
“You didn’t bring night vision?”
Hollis turned and gave him a confused stare. “Of course. But it’s so restrictive…it’s more of a hindrance than anything.” He sighed and slung his rifle. “You know as well as I do how lethal these creatures are. Would you want to be here after sundown?”
Hatcher shook his head slowly. “Not again.”
“Then we better pray there aren’t any more road blocks. Otherwise, we might be in for an eventful night.”
“I’m not having any luck. Every place I check has already been looted.” Squirrel searched the other men’s faces and they all read the same. “I’m open to suggestions.”
One of the bikers from the secondary group shrugged. “We could go house to house. Maybe start at some of the nicer places.”
Slug spat on the ground and shook his head. “Why the fancy places?”
The biker shrugged again. “People with money would be better suited to protecting themselves from the crazies, man. You know. Safe rooms and shit.”
“And guns.” Squirrel added. “If they’ve survived this long, odds are they’re armed to the teeth.”
Slug smiled again and Squirrel fought a shiver. “I could use me some new guns.” He chuckled and elbowed the man next to him. “Maybe even a little senorita or two.”
The other man gave a halfhearted laugh. Apparently, Slug gave him the creeps as well. He took a half-step farther from the man and crossed his arms.
“If that’s the best bet for finding supplies, we may have to try it. Maybe we lure them out. Grab somebody from inside and use them to disarm the others?”
Squirrel sighed and shook his head slowly. “My gut tells me it’s too risky.” He looked up at the others. “Would you hand over your gun because one of us was caught?” He noted the blank expressions on their faces. “Yeah, neither would I.”
“I’d shoot through you to kill them.” Slug deadpanned. He looked up at Squirrel and added a quick smile. “Just saying.”
“I have no doubts.” Squirrel turned, effectively blocking Slug from both his view and the conversation. “I say we finish up with the little gas and go stations. Meet back at the hotel, and first thing tomorrow we head out.”
“Want me to radio Simon and let him know what we’ve found?” one of the men asked. Squirrel wasn’t sure his name.
“Nah. Our primary mission is the group that truck came from. Until we find them, let’s save the batteries.” He straddled his motorcycle then turned to face the others. “But if we find a cache of food or weapons…or ammo…if we need help transporting the loot, then we call him. Otherwise, we wait until we have something more solid.”
“Understood.” The tallest of the other men turned and addressed his group, “Load up. We have more work to do.”
Squirrel watched the group ride off, then started his Indian. He glanced at Slug who was still trying to kick start his. Once the engine belched to life, Squirrel put the bike into gear and pulled ahead slowly. They still had a lot of area to cover and the sun was already dropping in the sky.
He could almost feel the knife in his back and stole a glance through his side mirror. Slug was pointing his finger at him and made a shooting motion when he thought Squirrel wasn’t watching.
He knew that the time was quickly coming that he’d have to do something about the brown-toothed man. He hoped that Simon wouldn’t mind that Slug was lost in action during this operation.
Jason opened the door slowly and noted the activity in the room. Dr. LaRue was barking orders and there was a low murmur of hurried voices as people rushed about. He stepped inside and couldn’t track all of the people in white coats as the personnel hurriedly went about their business.
“Hey, you aren’t supposed to be in here.” A man with a surgical mask pointed at him.
“I, uh…needed to talk to—”
“Not now, Jason.” Dr. LaRue appeared in front of him and Jason was just able to see one of the infected strapped to a table. A man next to him was pointing
what looked like a radar gun at the patient. Whatever the machine was, the man was docile, and actually appeared to have a soft smile across his face, his eyes closed as though getting a foot massage.
“What the hell are you doing?” Jason took a step back, his eyes glued to the creature in the center of the room.
“We’re testing Bren’s blood on somebody already infected.” She tried to push him back through the door, but he sidestepped her and slowly approached the patient.
“I thought you kept them sealed up! Why is he out of containment? We’re all at risk!” His voice took on a twinge of panic as worst-case scenarios played out in his mind.
“Stop it!” Vivian grabbed his arm and dragged him back toward the door. “You need to leave. Now!”
Jason threw a hand back and held the door closed. “No.” He stared at her adamantly. “I want to know…I need to know.”
“You are not authorized to—”
“If you’re using Bren’s blood, then I have every right to know.” He clenched his jaw and stared at her.
Dr. LaRue stepped aside. “Very well. But you don’t move from this spot. And if things start to go sideways—”
“Don’t worry, doc. I’ll be out of here so quick it will make your head spin.” He crossed his arms and peered over her shoulder at the infected man that now appeared asleep.
One of the workers approached the pair. “Doctor? We’re ready.”
She gave Jason one last glare, then lifted her own surgical mask. “All right, people. Let’s do this.”
She walked to the examination table and wrapped a rubber band around the man’s arm. She tapped at the bend of his elbow a few times trying to make a vein jump, then placed the needle at a nearly horizontal angle. “Injecting the anesthesia at 1640 hours.” He watched her depress the plunger, then release the rubber band.
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