“I’ll say it again, kid,” Buck shouted from the tailgate. “You did a great job back there.”
Despite still being rocked by the experience I had just gone through, I couldn’t help feeling proud of the Marine’s assessment of me. My mind flitted back to the point where I was on the ground and seeing dozens of Ragers approaching me with bared teeth. I shivered and pulled myself back to the present.
“Thanks, Buck. Say, tell me…why did you have me take out that Humvee? They were already retreating.”
I heard him chuckle. “Yeah, I know. Your Dad didn’t want any unnecessary killing, but I felt like we should make their aggression expensive. We could have taken out three or four more of their vehicles, but that would have virtually assured that many of them wouldn’t have made it to safety. Those infected were right on their asses.”
I nodded. I rarely disagreed with my father. That was because we thought alike on so many issues. With this last situation, though, I caught myself wondering if Pops wasn’t being too forgiving toward the gang. After all, they had been trying their best to kill us back at the shopping center. They fired thousands of rounds at us, and we were fortunate not to have suffered any losses. I wondered if any of the people we let go free would later harm or kill any of my friends.
In any event, I didn’t have time to explore the matter any further. We pulled up behind Marcus’ truck, and people started flowing out of their houses and into the street. Marcus Jumped up into the bed of his pickup and raised both hands over his head, yelling for the converging neighbors to quiet down and hear what he had to say. The people checked their impulses to swarm over the trucks and grab whatever they could and grew quiet as they surrounded us.
“Okay, listen up,” Marcus shouted. “This equipment doesn’t belong to us, not all of it anyway. We couldn’t have done this without Mr. Cole and his people. For the second time, they have faced down the Mojados and sent them running.”
A cheer rose up from the people.
He raised his hands again. “Listen to me. There are others out there who also need guns, ammunition and other equipment. So do me a favor and stand back. Major Morrison will do a quick inventory, and he will dole out the equipment he thinks we need. He and the rest of his people will take the rest and distribute it where it will do the most good.”
I expected some arguments, but none arose. The Major climbed up on the truck, and Marcus hopped down. He ran over to the Suburban where George still lay in the backseat. Someone had slapped a bunch of those big adhesive bandages over his bites, but blood was still seeping through a few of them.
“No! Let me go; I can help him; I’m a physician.”
The words came from the Bronco, and I looked over to see Pops gently trying to restrain the rescued woman. She had recovered from her chase and was feeling better. Pops said something that I couldn’t hear, but she shook her head.
“No, I’m okay now. I was just exhausted from running so far. Thank you for coming to my aid, by the way, but, really, that man looks badly injured. Please, let me do my job.”
Pops shrugged and let go of her arm. She walked over to the Suburban showing no signs of being unsteady. She pulled Marcus out of the truck so she could get closer to George. I saw her talking to him, asking questions, feeling his pulse, opening each eyelid and examining his eyes. She stood up halfway and looked over to Pops.
“Do you have a first aid kit?”
Pops nodded and grabbed the big kit we always carried when we came down the hill. It was in a bright red nylon pack and was the size of a small suitcase. He unzipped it and laid the two sides open on the street in front of her. The woman picked through the contents before grabbing three plastic bottles and a few boxes then ducking back into the car.
Pops stood there for a moment as if wondering if he could do anything to help. When no such need materialized, he came walking over to where I stood with Marcus.
“Did I hear her say she was a doctor?” Marcus asked.
“That’s what she says.” He nodded. “How’s that for pure wild luck?”
I agreed. “We now have two doctors? Wow.”
Marcus’ face showed concern. “I just hope she can help George. He was bleeding pretty bad. I counted seven bite marks and those were only the ones I could see.”
I sympathized with what the man was going through. Few things could make one feel more helpless than watching a loved one suffer.
We silently watched the activity taking place in the Suburban until the doctor stepped back outside, wiping her hands on her clothing.
“The bleeding is stopped, at least for now. I don’t suppose you have any antibiotics?”
Pops looked conflicted, and I knew why. We had all long ago decided to keep the location of Dragon’s Lair hidden, even from our new friends. There were many reasons for doing so, chief among them the fact that no one could attack us if they didn’t know where we lived. He looked at the doctor, over to George and then back to the doctor.
“Yes, but not here. Doctor, you’ll have to come with us if you want to treat him. If not, we have a doctor available, and he can administer the treatment. I’m sure Marcus and his people would let you stay here with them.”
She frowned. “When I started treating this man, he became my patient. If you let me, I’d like to come with you.”
Pops nodded. “Suit yourself, Doctor…hey, what’s your name, anyway?”
She smiled. “It’s Sharon, Sharon Beeker.” She held out her hand and Pops shook it. I noticed she was pretty with long blonde hair and blue eyes and I’m pretty sure Pops did too.
Was it just me or did I see a kind of spark jump between them?
Chapter 9
Lobo was furious when Arturo joined him in the hangar. The big man prepared himself for a tantrum.
“What did we lose?” The leader of the Mojados demanded without preamble.
Arturo shrugged. “We lost one of the Humvees, five rifles, hundreds of rifle magazines and…three of our guys.”
“Three? You mean the two with the shot up legs and one more?”
“No, Jefe. Three men besides the two wounded. They were caught by the infected and dragged off. We actually got the two wounded back here in one of the other hummers.”
Lobo stared at his Segundo with fury in his eyes. Arturo wasn’t surprised. The gang leader didn’t like losing, not even on a small scale. This…this was big. Arturo prepared himself to ward off a punch.
Instead, the smaller man cursed and spun on his heels. He paced around the room for a bit then seemed to get himself under control. He walked over to Arturo and put his hands behind his back.
“Who the hell are these guys, Turo? They pop up out of nowhere and loot a gun store, right under our noses? And did you see what they did? After I shot at them, one gun pops off a few rounds at my personal hummer. We all shoot back, and they do nothing in response. Then when we stop shooting, they fired two shots. Two shots, Turo! And each of those shots took out one of our guys. Meanwhile, we fired off hundreds of rounds, and I don’t think we hit even one of them.”
“More like thousands of rounds, boss. We left here with hundreds of fully loaded thirty round magazines — almost none of those made it back here. Our guys would empty a mag, eject it, toss it to the street and jam in a fresh one. That would have been okay if we had won but…we lost. When those things started swarming us, we had to either pull back or get overrun. Those missing magazines are going to hurt us in the future, boss. We only have about two hundred more of them in the armory.”
Lobo cursed and kicked at a cigarette butt on the hangar floor. The action put him off balance and Arturo forced himself to stifle a smirk.
“Turo, these guys are going to be a big problem for us. From what I saw out there today, that bunch has military training. First the Costco business, now this. We don’t want a bunch of guns out there, Hermano.” He came back over to where the big man was standing. “I want the people out there unarmed and hungry. That’s the only way m
y plan for this new world order works.”
He stared up into Arturo’s face, and his madness was showing through again. The second-in-command of the Mojados recoiled in spite of his best efforts to maintain control. He had seen people die when that look was on his boss’ face.
“Lobo…can I offer a suggestion?”
The leader put both hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Whatchoo got, Turo?”
Arturo was taking a chance offering advice to Lobo because one never knew how the unstable man would react to it. Still, he felt that he needed to try.
“The people around here, the other survivors, they can’t hurt us, boss. We have all these weapons and dozens of fighters. We could turn this around, distribute the food, bring some of them into the hangar complex, and keep them safe. If they see that we are on their side, fighting for them against the infected, we could have an entirely different situation going for us. The other survivors would give us information on what’s happening on the streets. We could recruit new members into our club, refresh and grow our numbers. That would make us stronger. But, they have to view us as their protectors and benefactors, or it doesn’t work.”
Lobo’s right eye twitched as he stared back at Arturo. He was silent for several uncomfortable seconds, then his mouth twisted into a grin that made Arturo’s gut seize up. “Benefactors, Turo? Since when do you even use words like that?” He stepped closer until he was pushing against the belly of the bigger man and looking straight up at him. “I thought you understood me. Understood my plan.”
Arturo smelled his boss’ foul breath as he shouted up at him. “I spent years building the Mojados. We all spent years dodging the police and serving jail sentences just because we were trying to feed our families. We were like feral dogs or a pack of coyotes then because the cops had the numbers and they had the guns. We all had to dance to their tune.
“Now, the world has changed, Turo. The police are gone, and the world belongs to us now. To me! We can finally do whatever we want.”
The level of insanity that was showing through in Lobo’s eyes increased in intensity to the point where Arturo’s hand inched toward the sidearm he was wearing.
“Those people made us crawl before. Now they will crawl. We can have everything we want. Food, cars, women. We see it; we take it. We’re kings now, Turo.” Lobo paused and his brow bunched. “No…I am the king. But my loyal followers will benefit from my generosity. And the other people out there? They will serve us now. They will pay us tribute. If they need food, they can come to us, and we will make them a fair trade. The food in the stores and warehouses around here will run out eventually. Someone will have to plant fields and tend herds. That is their future now, laboring in the fields to feed us. They will dance to our tune now, Turo. We will reign.”
Arturo held his boss’ gaze for another thirty seconds before stepping back. “Well, it was just a thought, Jefe.”
✽✽✽
Pops persuaded Marcus to let us take George with us so the doctor could treat him. They were back in the Suburban and following us while we drove the back way up the hill.
I cut my eyes sideways as I eased our way up the rocky incline. “I thought we weren’t going to let anyone know where we lived, Pops.”
He chuckled. “Like I always said, the best battle plans only last for the first ten seconds of combat. George, Marcus and their people can be good allies to us. Bringing George to Dragon’s Lair was a judgment call. I hope to convince the doctor to stay with us, and I think we can persuade George to keep our location secret. At any rate, they are our friends now, and we can’t let him die from the Rage or infection.”
We rattled and bounced our way back up the hill and came in on the east side of the stronghold. We all got out by the garage and Pops, and I helped George out of the truck. He was strong enough to walk but was a little unsteady on his feet. He and Doctor Beeker were both gaping at the sight of the mansion.
Doctor Beeker paused on her way inside the mansion and stared up at the twin towers rising over her head. She saw me and frowned. “Is this a castle? It looks like a castle.”
I grinned. “I think that’s what Pops had in mind when he built it.”
She smiled now. “It’s beautiful. Who is Pops?”
I pointed to my father who was on the other side of George. “Him, he’s my Dad. He’s also the one who rescued you.”
She looked at Pops and smiled. “I don’t remember if I ever thanked you for that.”
“No thanks are needed.” He shrugged. “If you get this young man healthy again we’ll call it even.”
He flashed a big smile, and I noticed that spark again. Go, Pops!
Once inside, we helped George down the stairs to sub-level one. Doctor Beeker was amazed at the completeness of our clinic.
“This is incredible,” she cooed. She opened doors and poked into the pantry and cabinets. “It’s like an emergency room.” She turned to Pops. “How did you manage this?”
My father blushed a little at her praise. “We were working on this place for over a year before the world exploded.”
Doctor Tashnizi came in obviously having been alerted by one of our people. His face was unwashed, and his hair was out of place. He was inebriated again. George was on the examining table, and he started towards him. Pops took one look and stepped in front of him.
“We’re good here, Doctor. We don’t need you.”
Tashnizi frowned. “And who is going to treat this man? You?”
“Not me.” He pointed to Sharon. “Her. She’s a doctor too.”
Tashnizi shifted his gaze to her and sneered. “In what field?” His tone was one of disdain.
Sharon talked as she used a pair of scissors to cut away the sleeves on George’s shirt. “Emergency medicine. My name is Sharon, Doctor Sharon Beeker. Nice to meet a colleague.”
Tashnizi looked back at Pops, and his face registered the fact that his value to the group here in Dragon’s Lair had diminished considerably. He was no longer the sole doctor to whom we must come if sick or injured.
Pops put a hand around his shoulder and gently turned him toward the door. “As I said, we’ve got this covered. Why don’t you go back to your room and sleep it off?”
Tashnizi tried to give us another one of his sneers, but this time he couldn’t quite pull it off. Instead, he turned and staggered out of the clinic.
“Am I going to be okay, Doctor Beeker?” George was grimacing from the pain of the bites.
She continued to cleanse the wounds as she replied. “You’re going to be fine, George. And it’s Sharon.” She turned to me, Pops and Buck, the other people in the room. “Titles are kind of irrelevant now. Just call me Sharon.” She chuckled a bit as she looked at my father. “And I understand your name is Pops?”
Pops colored again. “No, that’s what Virgil here calls me. My name is Dan. Dan Cole.”
Sharon opened a bottle of clear liquid and doused a wad of gauze with it. She dabbed at George’s wounds, then did the same thing with some yellowish stuff. George winced every time she touched him, but he said nothing. He had seven bites on his chest, neck, and arms. There were three more on his back and one on his cheek. I couldn’t imagine having a pack of mindless animals trying to tear me apart with their teeth.
When Sharon took a small bottle of antibiotic out of one of the refrigerated storage bins, I decided to find Pepper. She was coming down the stairs as I started up. She had a worried look on her face.
“Jimmy said you were almost killed.”
I was surprised to see tears brimming in her eyes. I reached her when she was halfway down the stairs and wrapped my arms around her. She held me tightly and put her head on my chest. We stayed like that for about thirty seconds before she pushed back and wiped at her eyes with the backs of her wrists.
“Jimmy exaggerated a little bit,” I lied. “George and I got into a little tussle with some of the infected. George is the one you should be worried about. The new doc
tor we found is treating him now.”
“I don’t even know George. I’m worried about you.” Her face showed confusion. “I saw the doctor just a moment ago, heading for the liquor cabinet.”
“Yeah, well we met another doctor when we were down the hill. Pops saved her from a pack of those things.” I smiled slyly. “I think he likes her.”
She smiled back; then the worried look returned. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Yeah, I’m fine.” I wiggled my eyebrows up and down. “Nothing a few kisses couldn’t fix.”
She feigned indifference. “If you’re not injured then I don’t see any need for kisses.”
I fell against the stairway wall. “I lied. I was just being brave. It hurts. Oh, how it hurts.”
Pepper grinned and gave me a big kiss. Then she pulled with a mischievous expression on her face. “Race you to the warehouse.”
We had discovered that the warehouse level was the only place where Pepper and I could reasonably expect to have some privacy. I pointed up the stairs to make her turn her head and look, then darted down the steps. She yelped and chased after me.
✽✽✽
Arturo cursed as he watched his men and a few women as they gathered up the rifle magazines from the street. He had taken six people with him in an attempt to recover the valuable devices. Once Arturo had determined that there were no infected or the other group of survivors about, he had his people to start searching the area. It was clear that most of them were missing, probably taken by the other group. The infected certainly did not need them.
As he watched his people work his thoughts turned to Lobo. Was it just his imagination or was their leader starting to come unhinged? The encounters with this new group of strangers were beginning to affect him. It was affecting the troops, too. The members followed Lobo because he was always the smart one. They suffered his abuses and tantrums because he knew how to use the gang’s power to its maximum potential. Money, food, liquor, weed, women. That’s what the Mojados wanted. It was that simple, and Lobo had always provided that for them. So if he slapped someone or punched them or even beat them with a baseball bat, well, in the long run, it was worth it.
Virgil's War- The Diseased World Page 14
