“Don’t, Dave, please.”
“Your sister.” He wagged his eyebrows. “Do you know if she’s a classy-kinda lady or is she a down and dirty type?”
“Oh my god.” Hatcher pushed up from his desk and marched to the other door. “What is in the air around here? I got teenagers humping like rabbits, my right hand girl is in heat, and now a dirty old man chasing my sister.”
“I took a shower!” Dave called out to him. He watched Hatcher march outside then he lifted his arm and did a sniff test. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Hatcher marched outside, unsure of what he could do, but he quickly found Stanton. “Tell me that there’s something I can do to help.”
Will paused and pushed his glasses up. “Well, any of the work crews could use help I’m sure, however, most are simply completing their assigned tasks.” He shrugged. “Until we’re ready to stretch the fence fabric, there’s not much to do.”
“Ugh.” Hatcher groaned. “Could there be something in the water?”
Will froze then turned to him, fear evident on his face. “Is somebody sick? Oh my…I can’t believe we didn’t test the water first before—”
“No!” Hatcher cut him off. “Nobody’s sick.” He glanced to the side and muttered, “They’re just horny as hell.”
“Ah,” Will smiled, holding a finger up. “While I’m no psychologist, I can state that evidence exists for people’s libidos to increase after going from a heightened state of vigilance to one of a more relaxed nature. Coming from the stresses of the industrial district to here, with the, err, amenities available—”
“I get it, doc. I get it.”
“Oh, I’m not a doctor, but I do have a masters degree in—”
“Talk like a doc, get called a doc.” Hatcher held a hand up to stop him. “Let’s just say that I trust you. You don’t have to explain.” He sighed as he marched off. “Maybe Ida can put salt peter in the soup or something.”
“I’ll notify you when we’re ready to hang the fence fabric. It should go up quickly!” Will watched him walk off and shook his head. “We’ll be ready for your moat before you know it.” He laughed to himself as he went back to work.
“Preparing to breach.” The operator nodded to the tech holding the torch. “Do it.”
The tech dropped the torch and tugged the dog ear latch upward, pulling the door open. The operators who were stacked on either side tossed in a flash bang and waited for the report. The lead operator stepped inside and activated his night vision goggles.
“On me.” He waved the team forward, each man covering his assigned grid.
Carol, Kevin, and Broussard observed the activities through the integrated helmet cameras from the safety of their new laboratory. “I couldn’t do that,” Kevin muttered.
“That’s why you’re a biologist and not a NAVY SEAL,” Carol mumbled. She watched the men advance then pointed to the corner of the screen. “There’s the lab.”
“They know.” The chief petty officer watched from over their shoulders, his arms crossed over his thick chest. “They have the layout of that ship committed to memory.”
The researchers continued to study the screen and all jumped when a pale blue shot across their field of vision.
“Contact!”
The staccato of weapons fire echoed through the speaker and Carol had to look away. She opened her eyes and saw the Chief staring at her, his face stoic.
“Can you please ask them not to shoot everybody? If there are any people who are asymptomatic, it could go a long way towards finding a cure.”
The chief nodded. “They’re aware ma’am.” He lowered his voice as if taking her into his confidence. “Trust me, ma’am, these guys are professionals.”
“I have no doubts. I just wouldn’t want a potential cure killed in the heat of the moment.”
“Carol, please.” Broussard cautioned. “Let them do their job. If nothing else, we get most of our equipment back.”
“And my experiments,” Kevin shrugged, “for whatever they’re worth now.”
She glanced back at the chief petty officer. “I’m sorry, sir. I don’t mean to imply…” she trailed off.
The chief broke character and patted her shoulder gently. “I understand, ma’am.”
The weapons fire died down and Carol chanced to look at the screen again. “Oh, my.” She held a hand to her mouth. “Look at the changes that have occurred just since we left.”
Broussard nodded, leaning closer to the screen. “The mottled appearance indicates a lack of melanin– perhaps even a total loss.” He glanced over his shoulder at the chief. “Once the danger has passed, would it be possible to get a closeup of one of the infected’s eyes?”
The chief nodded. “I’ll see to it.”
Carol continued to watch as the operators cleared room after room, deck after deck. She found herself chewing absently at her thumb nail. “Are they done?”
The chief nodded. “They’ve cleared each deck.” He glanced at his watch and shook his head. “They’ve gone over on their time.” He leaned back and keyed his coms. “Delta Actual, be advised, marker plus twenty-two.”
“Copy that.” The lead operator motioned to his men. “Double time. Get the grunts down here to clear this gear, NOW!”
“What’s with the rush?” Carol asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.
The chief glanced over his shoulder then nodded toward the screen. “They set charges along the hull before boarding. They’re on a timer.” He gave her a look that she didn’t expect. “On the off chance that their mission was compromised.”
Her eyes widened and she stared at him open mouthed. “They’re going to sink the ship?”
The chief nodded. “In less than thirty minutes, the USS Kauffman will be scuttled.”
“Is that enough time to strip the lab?” Kevin asked, panic rising in his voice.
The chief shrugged. “I suppose we’ll find out.”
Trevor cradled little Patricia as the sun pushed the shadows away. He could feel the concrete under the overpass warming and he felt total exhaustion from the night’s activities. He glanced out from under the bridge and sighed at the dilapidated houses in the area.
He knew from experience that any of them could be a shelter for more of the infected. He also knew that the odds of finding one as docile as Patricia were slim to none.
He laid her gently to the side, her rapid breathing a telling sign that she was sleeping, although fitfully. Trevor stepped out from the shadow of the bridge and walked down the steep concrete embankment. He glanced back to check on Patricia once more before exploring the immediate area.
He found an old conversion van parked in the driveway of one house and he tried the door. The musty smell that wafted out told him that the old truck probably hadn’t run in years. Still, he checked the visor, the ashtray, and the glove box to see if there might be a spare key.
He quietly shut the door and walked the overgrown roadside to the next house. A Volkswagen Beetle that sat on blocks with the engine missing was all he spotted.
“There has to be something around here.” He looked down the dusty road but nothing stood out as promising.
Trevor walked back to the overpass and started to climb the embankment when he realized Patricia was gone. His coat lay in a heap at the top, but the girl was nowhere to be found.
In a panic, Trevor spun a slow circle. Should he call out for her? What if somebody else heard him?
He ran back to the road and stared down each direction. “Where are you, Patricia?” he whispered to himself, “why the hell would you run off?”
He squinted in the early morning sun, looking for any sign of her when a scream broke the morning silence.
Trevor froze and stared in the direction of the blood curdling screech. In a panic, he began to run towards the screaming, praying that she hadn’t been discovered by her own kind. She was too gentle and soft hearted to deal with the crazy cannibals that he’d dealt with. He brok
e into a full run. “Patricia!” he yelled. He slowed to a jog and yelled again, “Patty!” He stopped in the street and slowly turned in a circle. “Dammit Tricia, answer me!”
He felt the hair on his neck stand on end when another scream broke the silence and he turned to face his fate.
Patricia stood in the shadow of a small outbuilding, her eyes wide with panic. Trevor felt a wave of relief when he saw her lilac purple hoodie. He stepped toward her. “Come here, baby girl.” He held his arms open, his hands motioning her to him. “Come here.”
She took off towards him at a dead run and he dropped to his knees, praying that she didn’t intend to eat him. She nearly bowled him over when she ran into his embrace, her thin little arms wrapping around him in a bear hug.
Trevor lost his balance and fell back, taking her with him. “I’m sorry, Peanut. I’m so sorry.” He held her tight while she squeezed him, mewing. “I was trying to find us a safe place or a car or…” He rolled to his side and lifted her from the ground.
He carried her back to the shadows under the overpass and cradled her while she whimpered. “I won’t leave you ever again, okay? Just please don’t take off on me like that.” He sniffed back the tears that he hadn’t realized he was crying and held her close, rocking her. “You scared the life out of me.”
Patricia peered up at him, the hoodie hiding her face. She reached up and brushed the tears from his cheek and stared at her hand. He chuckled and gave her a smile. “Yeah, I know. I’m just a big softie.” He sniffled again and wiped at his face. “I’m just a big baby, huh?”
He pulled her hoodie back and saw the streaks that ran down her cheeks. He leaned back and studied her face. He raised his hand to her cheek and wiped the tears away. Patricia’s eyes grew wide and she cupped the side of her face.
Trevor couldn’t tell who was more surprised by her tears as she stared at her hand. She slowly looked up and met his gaze. He watched her lower lip quiver slightly before she buried her face in his chest again.
Trevor continued to rock her, stroking her back while she mewed. “I’ve got you,” he murmured. “Daddy’s got you.”
Chapter 12
Daniel attached the clamps that kept the chain link fabric in place while others attached theirs. He stepped back and smiled. “Damned if it don’t look professional.”
“If we had more time I could vinyl coat the bases and we could consider making it electric. There are standalone solar chargers out there that can handle up to twenty five miles or more and—”
“Doc.” Hatcher held a hand up to stop him. “One thing at a time.”
“As I explained earlier Mr. Hatcher, I do not hold a doctorate in any discipline. I do, however—”
“It’s either doc or maestro. I prefer doc.” Hatcher leaned close and lowered his voice. “It just rolls off the tongue easier.”
Will Stanton sighed and shook his head. “You are the director, Mr. Hatcher.”
Hatcher grinned at him. “Director. I like that.”
“Don’t get too full of yourself just yet, Mr. Director.” Roger nudged him. He pointed to the gap between the wall and the fence. “Don’t you have a moat to put in?”
Hatcher rolled his eyes. “No, that’s Wally and Hank’s project. I’ll have nothing to do with it.”
“Don’t talk too loudly. Hank already has a front end loader picked out for the project.” Roger raised a brow at him. “Unless you pull the plug before they get started.”
Hatcher shook his head as he walked off. “I can’t believe they’re all talking about a moat now,” he muttered to himself as the crew had their fun at his expense.
Hatcher wandered into the lobby then peered out the front at the men replacing the wrought iron gates with heavier, steel plated ones.
“Whatcha doing?”
Hatcher didn’t have to turn to recognize Buck’s voice. “I’m thinking.”
“What about?” Buck sidled in next to him. “This is really cool how you’ve brought all this together.”
Hatcher shook his head. “I didn’t do it.” He turned around and nodded to the rear court. “They did. I just made suggestions.”
“It’s still cool.” Buck took a deep breath and sighed. “Feels like freedom.”
“Does it?” He turned to stare at the front again. “I have this horrible feeling that I’m missing something. Something major. Something right in front of my eyes that I’m just not seeing.”
Buck shrugged. “Beats me, Hatch. From what I’ve seen, you’ve covered about every contingency out there.”
“Okay. You’re pretty creative. If you wanted to break in, how would you do it?”
Buck smiled. “I’d knock on the front gate and beg for sanctuary.”
“Not funny.”
Buck gave him a knowing look. “I wasn’t joking.” He pointed outside the gate. “I’ve been on that end looking in, remember? Unless I had a helicopter and a ton of grenades, I wouldn’t try to bust in here.”
Hatcher looked up to the sky. “What about those personal drones? The RC ones that anybody could buy?”
Buck shook his head. “Unless they had access to a power source, there’s no way to charge them. And who has grenades?”
Hatcher shrugged. “I’m sure there’s some rolling around somewhere. The military fell pretty quickly.”
Buck sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You may be right. There may be some glaring weakness in our defenses that we just can’t see. But you’re gonna give yourself ulcers worrying about it.” He patted the older man’s back. “I say sit back and relax while you can. When that weakness is uncovered, we’ll deal with it. Just like we always do. Then we can figure out a way to prevent it from happening again.” He gave Hatcher a mock salute then trotted down the hall.
Hatcher watched him go and shook his head. “But how many people have to die in order for us to recognize that weakness?”
Carol watched as the men made a train, tossing sensitive pieces of lab equipment like they were beachballs. The men in the small craft stacked it as neatly as they could, but the clock was ticking.
“How much more time do they have?” Carol asked.
The chief checked his watch. “Just minutes.” He sighed and reached for the coms. “I’m calling them off. You’ll just have to make do with what they got.”
“No, wait!” Kevin pleaded. “Just have them empty the incubator. Bring me my samples.”
The chief shook his head. “You don’t understand. If they aren’t clear of that ship when the charges blow, the concussion can take out their vessel as well.” He clicked the coms, “Bug out, now. T minus nine and counting.”
The researchers watched the small screen as the men began pouring out of the steel hatch, making their way toward the escape craft. Broussard was on his feet, staring at the screen. “They do a head count, oui?”
The chief rolled his eyes. “Of course. They account for everybody and all of their gear.”
They watched as the men slid down the ropes and into their craft. They watched from one man’s helmet cam as the operator started the engine while the men boarded. “Let’s move it! Move it! Move it!”
The last man slipped into the rear of the boat and squeezed the shoulder of the man ahead of him. The signal was passed forward until the closest man to the driver motioned to him. “Go!”
The engine roared and the small craft pulled away from the old frigate. Carol watched the screen as the operators bounced on the open ocean. One man turned back and watched to ensure the explosives went off at the proper time.
He zoomed in the camera and they all watched the Kauffman as it prepared to die. The chief began the countdown, “Five, four, three—”
Carol gasped. “Oh my god! There’s somebody still onboard!”
The chief bent over her shoulder and could just make out the silhouette of a person running across the deck of the ship. About halfway forward, the charges blew just below the water line, sending sprays of water upward and rockin
g the Kauffman where she sat.
“Sweet Mary, mother of…” The chief swallowed. “That couldn’t be one of ours.”
Carol turned wide eyes to him. “Could somebody survive out there alone?”
The chief shook his head. “Not unless they were a trained SEAL. The closest vessel is over two miles away.”
She sighed and leaned back in her chair. She looked to Broussard who gave her a slight shrug. He mouthed, “I don’t know.”
Carol didn’t say it aloud, but she silently hoped that the men who carelessly retrieved their equipment came back one man short.
“This is bullshit!” Simon kicked the chair over and stomped through the house. “How could nobody have seen that slimy sumbitch sneak off?”
Shooter shrugged, his eyes still heavy from lack of sleep. “I did my best, boss.”
Simon cursed again and pointed down the hall. “I guaran-gawddam-tee you that if Sinner had been one hundred percent, the little bastard would still be here.”
Shooter nodded weakly, shame and exhaustion taking their toll on him. “I can go search for him if you want.”
Simon shook his head. “No. I’ve lost one man already. I can’t afford to lose another.”
Shooter rubbed at his jaw. “You don’t think he ran off to be with them locals do ya?”
“The Cagers?” Simon shook his head. “I want to say no. His old lady really messed with his head. But then another part of me thinks that he just might try to win her back.”
“I can go and check.” Shooter shrugged. “If you want.”
Simon held a finger up. “Wait a minute. I’m gonna talk to Sinner.” He marched down the hallway and pushed the door open. “You awake?”
Sinner jerked in the bed, his eyes popping open. “I am now.”
“You any idea where Stinky would run off to?”
Sinner stared at him blankly. “Stinky ran off?”
“Dammit! I wouldn’t have asked if he were still here.” He shook his head at the larger man. “What the hell pills did he give you anyway?”
Caldera Book 6: New World Order Page 10
