Return to Yellowstone

by Heath Stallcup

  “Is all of that necessary?” Hatcher asked.

  Hollis nodded, but you couldn’t tell outside of the helmet. “Trust me. I’d triple this up to make sure I don’t get exposed to that crap.”

  “It certainly smells like crap.” Buck muttered. He glanced at the remains of the hot spring then looked to Hatcher. “I remember that smell the night Keri got sick. But the spring water didn’t look like that.”

  “What did it look like?”

  “It was black. Like tar.” Buck held his hand over his mouth and stepped farther back as Hollis approached the edge of the spring. He extended a metal pole with a beaker on the end and held it out over the spring.

  “It was dark.” Hatcher said, his voice nearly a whisper as he watched the Army captain try to retrieve a sample. “Maybe it looked black because it was night.”

  Buck studied the blood-red thick goop that surrounded the spring. “Keri was covered in the stuff when we pulled her from it.” He turned to Hatcher and shook his head. “That looks different.”

  “We’ll just hope it’s what they need.” Hatcher wrapped a reassuring arm around Buck’s shoulders and gently pulled him farther from the spring.

  Hollis inserted the beaker into the spring then pushed it deeper under the surface. “There’s a chance the red color is a result of being exposed to the air or sunlight.” He seemed to struggle with raising the beaker back up and when it broke the surface there was an audible sllurrrp noise.

  He pulled the beaker back and placed it on the ground. He disconnected it from the extension and held it up to the light. The liquid within the beaker was a much darker color. “Is this the stuff, kid?”

  Buck leaned slightly toward the beaker and nodded. “Yeah. That looks more like it.”

  “Contact, captain!” one of the men yelled.

  Hollis nearly jumped, then turned his attention back to the sample. He opened a metal case and pulled pyrex containers from within.

  “Maintain the perimeter, boys. If anything gets within a hundred meters, put ’em down!”

  He opened each of the containers and poured the blackish goo into each one. He secured the lids and placed each one carefully inside the metal case. He tossed the extension and the beaker into the spring, then stepped back and pulled his head covering off.

  He peeled the thick rubber gloves off then reached for a satchel. He pulled out some large, wet rags and began wiping the outside of the metal case with them, tossing each one aside until he was assured the exterior had been sanitized.

  With that task complete, he began peeling the rubber suit off. Reports from the rifles cracked from the other side of the Humvee and Buck jumped at the sounds.

  Hatcher pulled the boy back to the rear door and pushed him inside. “We’re about to go. Don’t worry. These guys are the best.” He gave Buck a wink, then shut the door.

  Hollis peeled the last of the suit off and kicked it aside. “Load up! Back to the LZ. Sergeant, radio the chopper and tell them we’re inbound. Alert them that we are plus one!”

  “Roger that, sir.”

  Hollis yelled at his men to load up and one of the soldiers manned the machine gun turret at the top of the second Humvee. He tracked the Zeds as they darted between the trees surrounding their position.

  “Don’t shoot unless they charge or make a threatening move.” Hollis ordered through the radio. “Conserve our ammo in case we hit a shit storm between here and the LZ.”

  The vehicles shot away from the hot spring and turned back toward the Visitor Center. Hollis tried to make his notes on the move, but the road was too rough. He sighed heavily and jotted down the time and GPS coordinates. The rest would have to wait.

  Hatcher leaned forward and tapped his shoulder. “The parking area in front of the center is more than big enough for your chopper to land. It would cut a little more transit time.”

  Hollis shook his head. “Where we landed is our primary. We have a fallback position, but that’s only if the primary is overrun.” He checked his watch and smiled. “We’ll have plenty of time.”

  “For?”

  “To get to the refueling station before dark.”

  The Humvee slid to a stop and the driver pointed to the trail ahead of them. “Uh, sir?”

  Hollis looked up and saw the Zeds almost in formation, working their way up the mountain. They carried spears, and the one leading the group carried what looked like a military rifle in his hands.

  Hatcher leaned forward and took in the force ahead of them. “Fuck me…”

  Hollis nodded slowly. “You can say that again.”

  The two bikers slowed their rides and pulled to the shade of an abandoned gas station. “Man, I ain’t seeing shit here.”

  The second biker pulled his t-shirt up and wiped the grit and sweat from his face. “Me, neither.” He motioned to the other with his chin. “Radio Squirrel and see what he wants us to do.”

  The man pulled the radio from his jacket and keyed it. “Baby Bird to Momma Bird, come back.” He paused and stretched his neck, wishing he had a cold beer.

  After a moment of silence, he keyed the radio again. “Baby Bird to Momma Bird, come back.” He released the key and added, “Ya filthy animal.” The two chuckled at his off-air joke.

  After waiting a bit more, he keyed the radio again. “Baby Bird to Dirty Bird, you listening?”

  The radio came to life again. “Go for Dirty Bird.”

  The biker cracked a grin. “You hear from Momma Bird?”

  “That’s a big negatory, Baby Bird. Maybe he’s still riding and can’t hear ya.”

  The biker nodded and looked to his partner. “What do we do?”

  The man shrugged and leaned back on his bike. “Fuck it. We can sit here in the shade and take a siesta, or we can go on and look for the ugly fucker.”

  The first biker groaned as he considered the options. He lifted the radio to his mouth again. “Dirty Bird, you seeing anything?”

  “Another negatory, Baby Bird. Whatchu wanna do?”

  “I’m thinking we take a break. Maybe find something to chew on, and if we don’t hear from Momma Bird, we keep heading south ’til we find him.”

  “Sounds like a plan. We found an old grocery store with a few canned stuffs still in it. Not enough to warrant calling base to haul off, but enough to make a decent lunch. Want to check back in about an hour?”

  “Sounds like as good a plan as any. We’ll see if we can’t scrounge up something to swallow here. Talk to you in an hour.” The biker clicked the radio off, then turned to his partner. “Find food or take a nap?”

  “Both?”

  The other biker nodded. “Well, alrighty then. Let’s see if we can’t dig up some grub then maybe we can find a nice shady spot to catch a few winks.”

  “What if Squirrel doesn’t answer?” The second biker asked. “Do you really want to go look for him?”

  The first biker gave him a deadpanned stare. “Hell, no I don’t want to look for him. But do you want to be the one to tell Simon we lost Slug and Squirrel on a simple recon?”

  The second biker shook his head. “Hell, no.”

  “Then I guess we find Squirrel. Or, what’s left of him.”

  Vivian stared open-mouthed at the man on the gurney. “Did you just…”

  “Was that coffee?” He gave her a weak smile. “I’d kill for some.” He winced after he spoke.

  Vivian stepped over the mess of her spill and approached the gurney.

  “Doctor.” Charles handed her a set of gloves and she quickly pulled them on.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked as she struggled with the surgical gloves.

  “My head is killing me.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “Feel like I have a hangover from hell.” He cracked an eye open and looked around. “Am I in a hospital?”

  “An isolation ward.” Charles stated as he stepped closer and pulled a light from his coat pocket. He flipped it on and flashed it into the man’s eyes.

  The
patient instantly squeezed his eyes shut and turned away. “That hurts.”

  “Apologies, but I really need to take a look at your eyes.” Charles reached for the man’s head and turned him back toward the light. “Bear with me a moment.”

  The man winced, but allowed Charles to peer into his eyes. The light flashed across his vision and Charles turned and nodded at Vivian. “Good reaction.”

  She excitedly scribbled onto her chart, then reached for the digital thermometer. She pressed it to his forehead then read the display. “Normal.” She tried not to smile then scribbled on the chart.

  “What happened? Was there an accident?”

  Charles gave the man a solemn look. “You don’t remember anything?”

  The man shook his head slowly. “No, but my head is killing me. Can I get an aspirin or something?”

  “Of course.” Charles reached for his wrist and looked at his watch. He turned to Vivian. “68.”

  She scribbled on the chart again, then reached for a syringe. “I need blood samples.”

  “I hate needles.” The man cringed and looked to Charles. “Does she really got to do that?”

  “I’m afraid so, my good man. Buck up. It will be over before you know it.” He patted the man’s shoulder reassuringly.

  He closed his eyes again and gritted his teeth as Vivian wrapped a large rubber band to his upper arm. He barely felt the needle and let his breath out hard when she released the rubber tourniquet. “Is it over?”

  “Nearly.” She attached a second specimen tube and allowed it to fill. She pulled it back and pressed a cotton ball to his arm, then taped over it. “All done.”

  She handed the vials to Charles who attached the labels, then he quickly handed them off to an orderly. “Tell me, what is your last memory?” She held the pen ready.

  The man squinted at her and she could tell he was trying to think back. He slowly shook his head. “I think my wife and I were leaving to find a restaurant or…no…” his voice trailed off. “We were leaving town.”

  “Leaving town?” Charles asked.

  He nodded slightly and winced. “My neck is so stiff.” He tried to reach up and glanced at the bindings holding his hands down. “Why am I strapped down?” A look of panic started to well up in him and Vivian placed a hand over his.

  “It’s for your own protection.” She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but he continued to tug at the leather straps.

  “Let me go!” His voice rose in volume and Vivian reached for another syringe.

  “Let’s sedate him.”

  Charles gave her a confused stare. “Why?”

  “I said let me go!” He tugged at the straps again and began thrashing his legs. “I want to go home! Untie me dammit!”

  “We need to get him calm and verify his viral load before we do anything else. Now hold him down so I can…”

  The man’s hand slipped from the leather binding and he began swinging wildly. Charles reached for his arm to reattach the strap and the man inadvertently scratched him across the cheek. Charles struggled with him, then using his body weight, held the man’s arm while Vivian reattached the leather strap.

  She sunk the needle into his arm and pressed the plunger. Within moments, the man calmed and his eyelids became droopy. He continued to demand he be let go until he succumbed to the drug.

  Vivian blew out a long breath then turned to Charles. She paused and stared at the bleeding scratch on his cheek.

  “What?” Charles had no idea what she was staring at.

  Her arm rose slowly and she pointed at him. “Contain him.”

  “Dennis, please tell me you two can do this without screwing it up.”

  Wally gave Candy a hurt look. “Really? Wow.”

  She grabbed him by the arm. “This is no time to worry about hurt feelings. I have every other able-bodied man either preparing our weaponry or reinforcing the perimeter.” She gave him a serious look. “I need to know you two can do this.”

  “Come on, Candy.” Henry said as he marched past her. “How hard can it be? Find a dump truck, dump some sand on the road, and hightail it back here. Easy peasy—”

  “Do not say that.” She fell into step behind him. “This is not time to make light of something this important.”

  Henry paused and sighed heavily. “Fine. We got this.” He lifted the fuel can and set it in the back of the pickup. “Look, when we’re done, it will look like any other street.” He shot a glance to Wally, then added, “That is, covered in dirt and sand…to cover up the trail that…” He shook his head. “We got this.”

  “Just hurry.” She turned and started back inside. “But don’t be in such a hurry that you screw it up.”

  “We got this!” He motioned to Wally and the two loaded in the cab.

  Henry started the truck and pulled out into the street. “Tell me you know where a dump truck might be.”

  Wally groaned. “Brother, I have no idea.”

  “Christ on a cracker. We live in the middle of a fucking desert and we can’t find sand.” He goosed the accelerator. “We are so screwed.”

  * * *

  To Be Continued in Race to Oblivion

  Caldera The Series

  For years, the biggest threat that Yellowstone was thought to offer was in the form of its semi-dormant super volcano. Little did anyone realize the threat was real and slowly working its way to the surface, but not in the form of magma. Lying deep within the bowels of the earth itself, an ancient virus waited.

  Recently credited with the extinction of Neanderthal man, the virus erupts into a crowded Yellowstone. The park is packed with sight seers and party goers during a benefit concert who are all now fodder for the ancient rage virus.

  Follow along as Park Rangers and local Sheriff’s find themselves overwhelmed with a park full of infected human cannibals.

  Recently credited with wiping out the Neanderthals, an ancient virus is released within Yellowstone National Park and quickly spreads. A desperate plea for assistance reaches the military, but are they coming to help those battling for their lives or to wipe out every living thing in an effort to prevent a second mass extinction?

  Follow along with a select group of individuals as they fight for survival. Can they avoid the infected? Can they evade the military called in to help? Can they trust each other?

  Will humanity survive the raging cannibals that erupt from within?

  Months after an ancient rage virus erupts from the depths of Yellowstone, survivors find themselves scattered. Clinging to life in clusters, hiding from the infected and scavenging from the remnants of humanity, life has evolved to mere survival.

  The United States government has attempted to reestablish itself in the last safe place on earth…an offshore flotilla of naval vessels. The last of the CDC’s disease researchers work tirelessly to find a cure, but the virus keeps mutating. They need the original strain from Yellowstone.

  Only one man knows the park well enough to escort the military to the source of the virus. Daniel Hatcher is called upon once more to face the threat of Yellowstone. Follow along as they try to survive ground zero.

  Months after an ancient rage virus erupts from the depths of Yellowstone, survivors find themselves battling not only the infected, but each other. Predators prey on the weak and strength comes only in numbers.

  Government researchers are working tirelessly to find a cure, but time is running out. Over 90% of the world’s population is dead or infected and the number climbs daily.

  Follow a select group of survivors as they fight to carve out an existence while defending themselves from rage fueled cannibals and roving bands of marauders.

  About the Author

  Heath Stallcup was born in Salinas, California and relocated to Tupelo, Oklahoma in his tween years. He joined the US Navy and was stationed in Charleston, SC and Bangor, WA shortly after junior college. After his second tour he attended East Central University where he obtained BS degrees in Biology and Chemist
ry. He then served ten years with the State of Oklahoma as a Compliance and Enforcement Officer while moonlighting nights and weekends with his local Sheriff’s Office. He still lives in the small township of Tupelo, Oklahoma with his wife and three of his seven children. He steals time to write between household duties, going to ballgames, being a grandfather to five and being the pet of numerous animals that have taken over his home. Visit him at heathstallcup.com or Facebook.com for news of his upcoming releases.

  From the desk of Heath Stallcup

  A personal note-

  Thank you so much for investing your time in reading my story. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment and leave a review. I realize that it may be an inconvenience, but reviews mean the world to authors…

  Also, I love hearing from my readers. You can reach me at my blog: http://heathstallcup.com/ or via email at heathstallcup@gmail.com

  Feel free to check out my Facebook page for information on upcoming releases: https://www.facebook.com/heathstallcup find me on Twitter at @HeathStallcup, Goodreads or via my Author Page at Amazon.

  Also by Heath Stallcup

  My stories so far: The Monster Squad Series

  The first saga:

  * * *

  Humanity has spent its time enjoying a peace that can only be had through blissful ignorance. For centuries, stories of things that go “bump” in the night have been passed down and shared. When creatures of the night proved to be real, the best of America’s military came together to form an elite band of rapid response teams. Their mission: to keep the civilian populace safe from those threats and hide all evidence of their existence.

  This time, they face the largest threat ever to rise against mankind as it prepares its own twisted Apocalypse. The only thing standing in its way is the Monster Squad. Man and monster will fight side by side in an epic battle to the death to try to defeat an evil so great, it could only have been created by the hand of God Himself.