Caldera Book 6: New World Order

by Stallcup, Heath

  He clutched Patricia and pulled her back, away from the opening. He wrapped his arms around her protectively and stared at the trio as they grouped together, all sniffing at the air.

  They can’t possibly smell us, can they?

  Trevor feared that his beating heart would sound like a drum to the Ragers and he tried to slow his breathing down, tried to force his body to stay calm. He could feel himself shaking as the trio ran up the street in the direction he had just come. He felt the AR pressing against his back and pulled it around to the front, gripping it tightly as the infected’s feet slapped on the paved road.

  When the sound faded, Patricia pulled from his embrace and crawled to the edge of the wall. She peered into the darkness then stepped out of the building and into the cooling night air. Trevor watched her with horror and fought the urge to call her back. She stood just outside the building, sniffing at the air. He crawled toward her and she reached out to him.

  Trevor stepped into the night once more and took her hand. He held the rifle tightly in his other hand as she led him back to the street. “I guess it’s safe now?”

  She didn’t answer, but she tugged at him and he fell into step with her. He breathed a sigh of relief and gripped her hand tighter. “I guess I owe you for that one, huh?” She didn’t respond, but Trevor had gotten to the point that he didn’t expect her to.

  He felt a deep sense of pride, a strong emotion that he couldn’t explain. Somehow he knew that they were now family. They would work together to keep each other safe.

  Chapter 14

  Hatcher spun the wrench, tightening the last bolts on the section of scaffolding. He stepped back while men stacked boards between the two sections. He nodded with satisfaction. “I think this will work.”

  “Maybe we could find some more scaffolds at the rental center.” Roger grabbed the wrench from his hand and tossed it in the canvas bag with the others. “Potentially, we could have a walkway that goes around the whole perimeter.”

  “That would be nice, but as long as we have at least one sentry on each wall, I’m happy.”

  Will tapped his shoulder. “I have another idea that could lessen the load on your sentries. But it will take time, supplies and skilled carpenters.”

  Hatcher slipped his gloves off and nodded, “I’m always willing to hear you out, doc.”

  Stanton seemed to cringe slightly but nodded. “Rather than keep men on the wall, looking for threats, we could build a guard tower. A single, tall structure with a covered area at the top. One or two men could station themselves up there and scan the entire perimeter.”

  Roger nodded. “Hey, I like that idea. With the height they could see out much further. We’d have more warning.”

  Hatcher had to agree. “It sounds great on paper, but how big of a chore would building it be?”

  Will shook his head. “Not as terrible as you might suppose.” He turned and pointed to the center of the courtyard. “If we built a structure here in the middle, at, say, fifteen-feet tall, the average man would have a twenty-foot eye height. They could potentially see well beyond the fences and to the surrounding structures.” He sighed slightly and pointed to the main building. “They would have blind spots, of course. The roof line of our buildings would preclude them from observing anybody that was right along the wall.”

  Roger shook his head. “But in theory, they’d see them coming long before they got that close.”

  “Exactly. And in the event of a close quarter combat situation, we have the walkways adjacent to the wall. Others could man those stations and simply shoot over the wall.”

  “What about the tower itself? How hard would that be? I mean, we don’t have a crane or anything.”

  “It wouldn’t be necessary,” Stanton explained. “We build it as we go up. Bracing for the legs would allow the men to stand in place and build upward as we go. When we get to the top, I have an idea that would speed up construction as well.”

  “What idea is that?” Hatcher asked.

  Will stifled a smile. “I noticed a few places that used to sell pre-made outbuildings and the like. One such place had a child’s fort on display. It’s made entirely of wood, precut and ready for assembly.” He lowered his voice and admitted, “I considered building one for my step daughter’s son but…” He trailed off, unpleasant memories rising to the surface. “In any event, it would hasten the watchtower’s construction by days.”

  Hatcher shrugged and looked at Roger. “I have no objections. You?”

  Roger shook his head. “Make me a supply list, Will, and I’ll head out in the morning and see if we can’t get you what you need.”

  “The biggest item on the list would be skilled carpenters.”

  Hatcher smiled and patted the man’s shoulder. “I’d speak to Candy if I were you. I think she can hook you right up.”

  Carol ran the power cord to the closest outlet and plugged it in. “I think that’s about it.” She turned to Broussard. “Anything else?”

  He shook his head. “I would like a light box. Like they use to look at x-ray films.”

  Carol looked around the room and nodded. “I’ll talk to the yeoman and see if there’s something he can do. Maybe we can have something made that will work.”

  Kevin sighed as he sat down. “If only we had something to actually work with. We’ve got no infected test subjects, no samples of the primordial virus. Nothing.”

  Broussard cleared his throat and shook his head. “That’s actually not entirely accurate.” He opened a small storage container and pulled out the blood samples he had slipped off of the Kauffman. “We have some.” He placed them gently into the test tube holder. “And now that the lab is set up, we can unpack the samples that were stowed away and our records.”

  Kevin’s face lit up and he smiled. “You’re pretty sly for a Frenchman.”

  Carol rolled her eyes. “That almost sounds racist.”

  “If French is a race, then I guess it was,” Kevin replied snidely.

  Broussard held his hand up. “Enough. Please. We have a small amount of contaminated blood to work with. We have copies of the DNA profiles and we have a lot of work to do to get caught up.”

  Carol nodded. “You’re right. Where would you like to start?”

  Broussard glanced at his watch. “To be honest, it has been a long day and the hour is late. I think we should all retire for the evening and start fresh in the morning.” He looked to Dr. McAlester. “Is that agreeable to you?”

  Kevin nodded, “No arguments from me.”

  “Very well.” Broussard pulled his lab coat off and hung it on a hook beside the door.

  Kevin pushed away from the table and pulled the door open. “See you kids in the morning.”

  They watched him walk away as the door shut and Broussard reached out and took Carol by the arm. “Now that the main distraction is gone, would you like to get an early start?” He smiled at her.

  Carol smiled and nodded her head. “The more we can do tonight…”

  “The less he can mess with tomorrow.” Broussard slipped his lab coat back on and reached for one of the cases. “Let’s go through these files and see what is still pertinent.”

  Carol pulled a stack of the manila folders out of the case and sifted through them. “He did ask one question that has me wondering.”

  Broussard hiked a brow, his attention still on the files in his hands. “What might that be?”

  She looked up at him, worry on her features. “Where are the other researchers? They were all put on lockdown when Vivian went nuts and yet…where are they? Surely more than just the three of us survived.”

  Broussard stiffened and glanced toward the door. “I cannot say. But this is a valid point.” He rubbed his chin while he thought. “Do you think perhaps they were taken to a different ship?”

  She shrugged. “Why? What possible reason could they have for separating us?”

  Broussard sat down and eyed her cautiously. “Perhaps they feared ano
ther mishap? Perhaps they wished to keep some of us away…working separately, to keep the others safe?”

  Carol nodded slowly. “Okay, I can buy that. But why not tell us?”

  Broussard shrugged. “I cannot pretend to know.”

  Carol took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I think maybe we should find out.”

  Broussard paused and closed the file he was studying. “What do you intend to do?”

  “I think it’s time we confront our little yeoman friend.”

  “And if he will not say?” Broussard shrugged. “Or perhaps he does not know.”

  “If he doesn’t want to tell us, we make him.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “And if he doesn’t know, we make it in his best interest to find out.”

  Broussard smiled. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

  Trevor and Patricia walked through the night. The change in temperature didn’t seem to affect her, but Trevor found his knees beginning to ache as the pair traveled.

  He paused outside of a small motel. It was one of those cheap and dirty places even before the world went to shit. The kind of place where you didn’t care if the décor matched, so long as the bathroom was functional and the beds had some kind of blanket.

  He pointed to the row of rooms and shrugged. “It will be daylight soon. We’ll want to keep our heads down and I need a decent sleep for a change.” He smiled at her and pulled her closer. “Not that sleeping under an overpass isn’t the most comfortable place, but I’d much rather have a pillow to rest on, wouldn’t you?”

  She simply stared at him.

  Trevor nodded. “Then it’s agreed. We crash here. Maybe we raid a candy machine or something.” He leaned close and swiped at the smeared eyebrow on her forehead. “Maybe we see about getting you squeaky clean for a change. If there’s any water here, we’ll get you cleaned up and into a change of clothes.”

  He stepped through the shattered glass door of the office and went behind the counter. “I’m hoping they’ll have the room keys out somewhere that we can…ah. Bingo.” He held up a set of keys with a plastic tag that read “5.”

  “Hold on just a second. It’s not that I don’t trust a place like this to keep their rooms stocked, but…” He stepped into the backroom and emerged a moment later with a handful of hotel sized soaps. “Just in case there’s water, okay?”

  He packed his pockets with the small soaps and walked to the other side of the lobby. He opened a door and stepped inside. “Towels? Towels?” He scratched his head. “If I were a stack of clean towels, where would I hide?” He pulled open a cabinet and smiled. “Towels. I knew you couldn’t hide forever.” He draped a handful of threadbare towels over his arm then stepped back out into the lobby.

  “Your room is almost prepared, madam.” He motioned toward the door and she fell into step behind him. “You’ll enjoy our Caribbean suite. It has been newly redecorated and has had kings and presidents grace its walls with their presence.” He slipped the key into the locked door and slowly opened it, his eyes adjusting to the near total darkness. “Hello?”

  Trevor listened for any odd noise but Patricia pushed past him and walked inside.

  He grunted as he kicked the door shut behind them. “I’m glad that the suite meets madam’s approval.” He tossed the towels to the bed and set the soaps onto the small round table. “You’ll note that here we have the elegant dining room. Over here is the sleeping chamber where madam can rest her weary head.” He stepped over to the bathroom and pushed the door open. “And here we have madam’s water closet. Unfortunately, it is a bit dark inside, but we can adjust the lighting to meet madam’s preferences.”

  Trevor stood back and watched as she stared at the tiny room. “Yeah, my thoughts too, kid. It’s a dump.” He tossed his bag onto the bed and watched as it bounced. “But it’s our dump for the night…well, for the day, at least.”

  He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her toward him. “We’ll make the best of it, won’t we?” He tugged her hoodie over her head then raised her arms. He slipped the t-shirt off of her and set it aside. “I wish I could get us a room someplace really nice. Like maybe a Holiday Inn or something fancy like that.”

  He lifted her to the bed and slipped her sneakers off. “Did you know that at places like that, they even cook breakfast for you?” He tugged her socks off and tossed them aside. “Now, we’re not talking Denny’s here, but it’s pretty good. Me and Lacey stayed at one on our honeymoon.” He lowered his voice and spoke as though taking her into his confidence. “To be honest, I think they used powdered eggs, but I could be wrong. Not everybody can scramble eggs like your old man.”

  He tugged at the makeshift belt he had created with a lamp cord and pulled her jeans from her legs. “I’m sorry we don’t have hot water.” He suddenly looked up. “We may not have any water. Hold on.”

  He went to the bathroom and pulled out his lighter. In the flickering light, he reached for the hot water knob out of habit and twisted it. The pipes rattled and a slow trickle streamed out. He quickly plugged the tub then stepped back out to the bed.

  Patricia had lain back and curled into a fetal position, her eyes closed and her breathing fast and rhythmic.

  Trevor leaned against the bathroom door and watched her sleep. “It’s okay kiddo. We can scrub you down after you get some rest.” He pulled the covers from under her and draped them lightly over her tiny frame.

  He watched her as she slept. He couldn’t help but wonder what she might be dreaming. Was it of a time before the world tried to kill itself? Could it be her last horrific night with her parents? Did she dream of a day when she could be normal again?

  Or was it the sleep of the dead, no dreams, no nightmares, only darkness. No mental images to give one either hope or fear. Trevor checked the trickling water once more then kicked his shoes off.

  He held them to the side and winced. “Maybe we both need that bath.”

  He peeled off his clothes then slipped into the bed next to her. Even at a distance, he could feel the heat coming from her tiny body. He stared at her with a pain in his chest. Was she sick? Or was this normal for her kind? He couldn’t be certain either way, and he froze when she slid next to him and wrapped a scrawny arm around his chest.

  Trevor pulled her closer and closed his eyes. “It’s okay, Peanut. I got enough dreams for the both of us.”

  Chapter 15

  Hatcher sat at his desk, a pen tapping against his thigh as he stared at the monitors. “I know I’m missing it. I can feel it.”

  “Ahem.” He spun and saw Candy standing in the doorway. “We need to talk.”

  “What’s wrong now?”

  “You.” She pushed her way in and scraped the spare chair across the floor to face him. “You have got to get out of this worrisome funk.”

  “I’m sorry, Candy.” He leaned forward in his chair and dropped the pen to the desk. “I can’t help it. It’s like a nagging itch in the back of my brain that I can’t scratch. I know I’m missing something.”

  Candy leaned forward, her voice softening with concern. “I’m not the only one who’s noticed. People are picking up on your attitude and it’s making folks antsy. Some are actually worried that you know something you aren’t telling them about.”

  Hatcher groaned and shook his head slowly. “No, it’s not like that.”

  “I know what you’re saying. I get it. I’m just telling you that your incessant worrying is causing others to question the safety of this place.”

  Hatcher raised a brow. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  Candy stood up and looked down at him. “Even if we found some kind of nuclear blast bunker, you’d still find something to fret over.”

  “Well, yeah. Like, why wasn’t somebody else already using it.”

  “No, you’d worry about somebody poisoning the air supply or cutting off the water or…” She threw her hands in the air. “You need to accept that you can’t account for every possible little thi
ng that could happen.”

  He gave her a smirk of a smile. “That’s sort of my job.”

  “No, Hatcher. Your JOB is to help direct us so that we can try to form a community here. That was the big plan. The dream. To start rebuilding.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him. “There will be bumps along the way, and there will be growing pains, and yes, people will fight amongst themselves and they’ll drive us all nuts. That’s because we’re all human. That’s what we do.”

  “And I’m supposed to make it all possible by keeping them safe so that they can go on driving us nuts.”

  “No, Hatcher,” she leaned forward and stared into his eyes, “your job is to help direct and lead us. Nobody expects you to keep everybody safe from every contingency. We’d all end up in hamster balls so that nobody could catch a cold or get a cut or…there’s just no way to do what you’re trying to do.”

  Hatcher sighed and nodded. “I know.”

  “So stop playing the nanny and start living. Find a special somebody…and, you know, settle down.” She grinned at him. “I have.”

  “I don’t want to hear about it.” He held a hand up to stop her. “Seriously. Take my booze, just keep the sordid details to yourself.”

  Candy laughed as she reached for the door. “You might learn a thing or two if you actually paid attention.” She wagged her brows at him. “Roger has talents, ya know.”

  “Lalalalalala” He held his hands over his ears.

  Candy laughed and stepped out of the office.

  “Nice song there, boss man.” Hatcher looked up to find Cooper standing in the other doorway.

  “What do you need?”

  “Squirrel is…I mean, Roger is going after some lumber. We’ve got most of the other security details taken care of. There’s a couple of guys working on moving the cameras to the wall, but…”

  “But?”

  “I thought maybe I’d give Squir…ROGER a hand with the lumber run.”