Carol slowly crept closer to the window, her eyes straining for any sign of movement beyond. She braced her hands against the cold steel to feel for anything that could tell her if Vivian was still lurking just outside.
Carol ducked low and approached the glass from the other side, praying that she would spot LaRue before LaRue spotted her. She slowly slid closer, the room panning as she did.
The bang on the door caused her to jump and scream, her hands instinctively coming up to block whatever attack may come.
“Who’s in there?” A gruff voice asked.
Carol felt her legs go out from under her and she crumpled to the floor in a sobbing mess. She heard the sliding door open on the cabinet and Kevin peered from the darkness. “Was that a human voice?”
“Open the damned door. We’re clearing civilians out of this level.”
Kevin pushed the cabinet door open and fought to free himself from the cramped confines as Carol gathered herself and pulled her legs back under her.
“Just a moment.” Her voice sounded weak and cracked as she pulled herself upright. “Is she gone?”
“We’ve cleared the floor and they’re about to weld the doors to this level shut.” The soldier on the other side banged on the door. “You better hustle if you don’t want to be down here for good.”
Carol pulled the handle and pushed the door open. “Have you seen Dr. Broussard?”
“Wouldn’t know him if I shot him, ma’am.” The soldier pointed to Kevin crawling out of the cabinet. “Who’s the hero?”
“I am Doctor Kevin McAlester.” He pulled himself to his full height and brushed at his labcoat. “I have some experiments going on at the moment that—”
“No time, doc. Move it!” The soldier pushed the pair and scanned the room one last time before ushering them out of the lab.
“But…my experiments. They’re crucial to finding a cure!”
“Move!” The soldier shoved the doctor harder, sending him out of the shattered glass door. “Turn left, top of the ladder. Hustle it up or get sealed in.”
“What is going on?” Carol asked. “Why are they welding the doors shut?”
“Last ditch effort to clear the uninfected from the ship.”
She fell into step behind Kevin and tried to keep up. “But, what about the people that were scratched or bitten? Have they manifested any—”
“If we find ‘em we shoot ‘em,” the man said. He pushed her farther down the hallway. “Orders are orders, ma’am.”
Carol forced herself to continue. Her body felt drained as she grabbed the handrails on the stairs and pulled herself up to the next level. “Dr. Broussard thinks that the infected might be traveling through the air ducts. Would it be possible for her to go up a level?”
“Not my job code, ma’am. All I know is if we see somebody infected, we kill ‘em.” He pointed through the open door. “Move.”
Carol stepped through the doorway and into the bright light of day. The salty sea air rose to greet her and she sighed heavily as she watched others milling around the deck of the ship. Her eyes scanned for Broussard but she couldn’t see him in the crowd.
She turned and caught the soldier as he pulled the dog ears on the steel door, sealing it behind him. “Is this all there is? Where are the others?”
The man backed away from the door and motioned to a sailor holding a welding mask and stinger. He turned and gave her a solemn look. “If they’re not topside, then they’re dead.” He watched her face pale, then he glanced to the side. “There’s another group aft of here. You might look there.”
Carol stifled her rising panic and nodded. “Thank you.” She turned to work her way to the rear of the ship when a blood curdling scream was heard beyond the steel door. The sailor wasted no time striking an arc and beginning the weld.
Simon stared at the pistol in his hand and Stinky glared at him.
“You were going to shoot me!”
“I still might.” Simon shook the gun then racked the slide. “What the hell?” He picked up the unfired bullet and stared at it. A prominent dimple on the primer indicated the firing pin had done its job.
Simon tossed the bullet in the air and Stinky barely caught it. “That’s your lucky charm there, Stink. It should have put a hole through your middle. I guess today ain’t your day to die after all.”
“What the hell?” Shooter asked as he stepped into the room. “You were gonna shoot your own man?”
Stinky tossed him the bullet. “Why not? He stabbed Savage.”
Simon spun, his finger pointing at the two of them. “Savage was a traitor. You saw what he did. He ran straight to the locals and they took him in like he was one of their own.”
“Will you bitches quit whining?” Sinner groaned as he tried to sit up. “Can’t a guy get any sleep around here?”
“Hey, buddy! You’re alive.” Stinky turned and took his hand.
Sinner pushed him away. “Get off me.” He looked from man to man, his brain trying to process what had happened. “What the hell are you pussies all whining about now?”
“Glad to see you’re still breathing,” Simon said as he walked up and stared at the man still laying on the table. “You up to a little recon?”
Stinky stepped between the two and glared at Simon. “You have got to be shitting me. He’s lost too much blood to be up and moving so soon. He’s liable to reopen his wounds.”
Sinner pushed himself up to a seated position and shook his head slightly. “I feel like I was hit by a train.”
“Rifle round, actually.” Shooter said, stepping closer. “From last night’s attack. Stinky there patched you up. Probably saved your life.”
Sinner glanced at the man and nodded slightly. “Thanks.” His hand came up and he ran it gingerly over the bandages. “How bad was it?”
Stinky shrugged as Simon pushed past him and into the garage. “I really couldn’t tell. I could see that it was an in and out; I didn’t see any bone fragments so I’m really hoping it just traveled through the meat.”
Shooter handed him a couple of pills and a water bottle. “You said you had pain pills in your stash. I took the liberty of digging you out some.”
Sinner gave him a cautious stare. “I know how many were in there, man.”
Shooter grunted a laugh as he pulled out the dining room chair and sat beside the big man. “And they’re all still there. Minus two, now.”
Sinner popped the pain pills and chewed them quickly. After he washed them down with water he tried to push off of the table. Stinky was there in an instant. “No way. You need rest. You shouldn’t be moving around.”
Sinner nodded at him. “That’s all well and good, but if I’m gonna be down, I’d much rather be down on a bed than the table.”
Stinky nodded. “Good point. Give me a hand.” Shooter stepped up and the pair helped walk him back to the first bedroom. As soon as Sinner was down, the two reentered the common room and found Simon sucking on another bottle of brown liquor.
“Look what I found.” He smiled at the pair. “Right where I left it.”
“We’ve got a man down and a whole lot of Cagers that are pissed at us right about now. Do you really think that getting shitfaced is the best call to action?”
Simon took another pull from the bottle and screwed the cap back on. “Breakfast of champions.” He tucked the bottle into his vest pocket and turned to eye the two men. “That will take care of the pain in my head for now.” He gave the two an evil smile. “I just need to figure out what to do with the pain in my ass.”
“No more shooting your own people, Simon.” Shooter stepped between him and Stinky. “That guy saved Sinner’s life last night.”
Simon smiled and shook his head. “Yeah, and I guess I appreciate that.” He stepped closer and pulled his pistol out, waving it around. “But the thing is, I can’t have anybody in my crew that questions my authority.” He held the pistol up to Shooter’s head. “Are you going to question my authority?”
Shooter shook his head nervously. “No.”
“Then you and me don’t have a problem.” He pushed past Shooter and pressed the barrel to Stinky’s forehead. “Want to see if God’ll smile on you twice in one morning?” He pulled the hammer back and whispered, “Are you going to question my authority?”
Stinky considered being honest, but he didn’t really want to die today. He slowly shook his head. “No.”
“Excellent!” Simon pulled the pistol back and uncocked the hammer. “It sounds to me like we’re going to have a beee-autiful day today!”
Simon laughed as he sauntered down the hallway, taking another long pull from his bottle.
Chapter 5
Roger slammed the door of the truck and Hatcher jerked awake. He peered out of the windshield but had to step outside to take in the work going on.
Hank stood by proudly, giving Hatcher a toothy grin. “What do you think?”
Roger gave a low whistle as he stared at the steel posts being set in the ground. “Is that for chain link?”
Hank nodded. “We hit a fencing company at first light. They had everything just sitting in their warehouse.”
Hatcher heard the engine of a tractor rev and looked around the cab of the truck. A small Bobcat drilled holes into the earth with an auger attachment. Two men with wheelbarrows stood by, ready to pour concrete as the steel pole was slid into the hole and leveled.
“You guys aren’t screwing around,” Hatcher muttered as he came around the truck and noted all the activity.
“Stanton said that security was the priority and that dude Cooper? He’s a slave driver, Hatch. You should really talk to him.” Hank pointed to the grey-bearded old man walking along the clay tile roof of the main entrance. “He’s supervising three different work crews and he’s tough.”
Roger clapped Hank on the shoulder. “After last night’s attack, we can’t take security lightly.”
Wally jogged up, his face a mask of disappointment. “Bad news, boss.”
Hatcher stiffened. “What?”
Wally waved him over. “You have to see it. I can’t accurately put this mess into words.”
The three men followed Wally around the corner and along the wall that butted to a “green” field that wasn’t green. Wally paused and nodded to a man high up on the other side of the wall. “Show them.”
He reached out and took a chunk of the wall in his hand and broke it off. He crumbled it over their heads and tiny pieces of Styrofoam rained from the sky. “Parts of the wall are just decorative, Hatch.”
Daniel felt his stomach fall and his legs began to shake.
“How much of it is this crap?” Roger asked.
Wally shrugged. “This is the first we’ve found. When we stretched the last of the wire a couple of the mounts tore loose. We set up here to reattach them and this is what we found.”
Hatcher squatted low to keep from passing out. “This is not good.”
Roger bent low and held a hand out for him. “Come on. We’ll figure this out.”
Hatcher sat on the dead grass and shook his head. “I moved all of these people out here and…”
Roger bent lower and whispered, “Don’t you dare give up hope. If not for you, for the people here. Now suck it up.” He thrust his hand out again and pulled Hatcher to his feet.
Hank held up his finger. “Hold on. I got an idea.”
Hatcher moaned. “If it has anything to do with a moat, so help me…”
Wally shook his head. “We allowed enough room between this wall and the new chain link for the moat.” He smiled broadly. “If you’ll still let us put it in.”
Hank returned a moment later holding a long steel rod. “We test it.”
Hatcher stepped aside as Hank pressed the steel rod into the side of the wall and watched it disappear into the stucco. He pulled it back and nodded. “Obviously Styrofoam.” He walked down the wall a bit further and slid the rod inside again. “More Styrofoam.”
The men followed him as he walked the perimeter of the wall. He found two sections that were soft foam, the rest, adobe mud brick. He stood up and squared his shoulders. “My guess is that they were going to put gates here but changed their minds. Rather than bring out adobe masons, they just cut a big chunk of Styrofoam and filled the gaps. A little chicken wire and stucco and voila. Just like Hollywood.”
Hatcher nodded, his sleep-deprived mind trying to take it all in. He turned to Roger. “Ideas?”
Roger shrugged. “I’m sure we could find something. Cement blocks would do.”
Wally stared down the wall. “Enough to fill those gaps? I bet they’re ten foot wide apiece.”
Roger shrugged. “I’m sure if we look hard enough, we can find something.”
Hank cleared his throat loudly. “I have a suggestion.” He looked to Hatcher and shrugged. “It’s just temporary, mind you.”
“What is it? I’m open to anything right about now.”
Hank nodded slowly. “Just until we can find blocks or pour a concrete wall…we maybe mount a thick board across the top. Something to attach our wire mounts to. Anybody looking from the outside won’t know the wall isn’t solid. We’ll have the chain link up either tonight or early tomorrow. It just has to look solid until then.”
Hatcher opened his mouth to argue but couldn’t. “Jury rig it until we can actually fix it?”
Hank nodded. “Just a stop-gap. Make it look right until we can make it right for good.”
Hatcher groaned and threw his hands into the air. “What other choice do we have?”
“We could pull men off of the work details and have them stand guard?” Roger offered. “If you really think that somebody will see this portion of the wall and somehow know that it’s not real, then we’ll do that.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “But you were with us when we walked these grounds. We didn’t notice it and we were looking for faults.”
Hatcher nodded slowly. “How soon before they’re done with the scaffolding?”
Hank shook his head. “That’s a different work detail. You’d have to ask Cooper.”
“What are you thinking Hatcher?” Roger asked as he fell into step behind him.
“I’m thinking that if they’re going to reuse the scaffolding for a guard run, the first ones need to go on this section of wall.”
Carol crawled over or around all the crates of equipment sitting topside in the early morning sun until she reached the rear of the ship. She saw the crowd of people, some in uniforms, others in civilian clothes and her eyes searched for the older Frenchman.
She nearly jumped when a hand rested on her shoulder and she turned to see Broussard behind her. “Apologies. I saw you coming this way and tried to get your attention.”
“I was actually looking for you.” She sighed heavily and gave him a relieved smile. “I was afraid you hadn’t made it out.”
“I argued against this plan, but they said it was the only way to prevent the military from killing everyone on board. C’est la guerre.”
Carol rubbed at her arms and glanced out over the water. “Where is the fleet?”
“Miles away.” Broussard’s voice lowered to a hushed whisper. “They wanted as much room as possible between us and them.”
She nodded absently. “That makes sense.”
Broussard turned and pointed the way she had come. “They are preparing small craft over there. They called them RHIBs, but they are simply rubber dinghies.” He shook his head slowly. “I think I shall wait until they return before I volunteer to get on one.”
“What are their plans?”
He took a deep breath and sighed. “They plan to load as many people as they can into the craft and take them to the nearest ship. There, they will be inspected by some type of medical professional and then released. I have no idea if they have facilities that we can use.” He shrugged. “Not that it really matters now. With nobody infected with the virus, we have no real world test subjects.”
; “Were you aware of Dr. McAllister’s experiments?”
Broussard shook his head slowly. “I do not know him.”
She nodded excitedly. “You need to hear his theory.”
“Perhaps I will.” He pointed at the sound of the first boat leaving. “This will take some time; I fear. The craft are far too small and there are too many people aboard.” He motioned around them. “Not to mention the equipment they hope to save.”
“Why not bring the other ship closer?”
He shook his head. “Perhaps they hope that if anybody is carrying the virus, they will become symptomatic along the trip; easier to get rid of them, non?”
She sighed heavily and sat down on the metal crate behind her. “Too bad we couldn’t save our material. We might have stood a chance against this thing.”
Broussard nudged her and smiled. She looked up and he slipped his hand out of his lab coat pocket. She spied what appeared to be vials of blood.
“Is that…” she trailed off.
Broussard smiled. “I have Dr. Carpenter’s and Dr. LaRue’s.” He bent low and whispered, “If they have any kind of laboratory equipment, we might still have that chance.”
Sinner pushed himself upright and grunted. “I need another pain pill. My shoulder is killing me.”
Stinky walked into the room and handed him a bottle of water and another pill. “We’re going to have to ration them out. There’s a limited supply.”
Sinner shook his head, his face sweating. “Simon has more. I seen ‘em.”
Stinky stiffened and glanced over his shoulder. “Did you see where?”
“Just tell him we need them.” Sinner tossed the pill back and bit it before swallowing the water.
Stinky sighed and sat on the bed next to him. “I don’t think we can count on our illustrious leader for anything besides tying on a solid drunk.”
Sinner raised a brow at him. “What are you saying?”
Caldera Book 6: New World Order Page 4
