The barrage didn’t last long. There were screams from the vehicles for a few seconds, then silence.
Five minutes later, Marcus leaned into the last truck and pulled out the rifles inside while trying his best not to look at the ruined bodies. It was sickening to the young man to have to do such a thing to human beings, but he knew these people had plans of doing the same thing to him and his friends. Marcus tossed the last two rifles to one of his crew. Others were unloading ammo crates from the bed of two of the bullet-riddled trucks. Someone pulled a white Ford F-350 alongside the four smoking husks and transferred the rifles and ammunition into it.
Marcus checked his watch and made a twirling signal with his index finger. “It’s time, People.”
The big Ford headed west on Shields Avenue followed by three additional pickups, a window van, and four sedans.
✽✽✽
Arlo checked his watch and saw it was almost time.
“Start it up and get ready, soldier. Things should start happening soon.”
Behind him, he heard the Strykers and Humvees starting up also. He wondered how long it would take for the people on the hill to travel down to where he waited. Two of his men left their vehicles and took up positions on either end of the wooden sheds. Each carried a B-300 anti-tank rocket system.
Arlo smiled. Payback was coming.
✽✽✽
Buck and Isaac had spent almost forty-five minutes sneaking down the hill to Academy Avenue. Dragon’s Lair was two miles up the winding driveway from the two-lane road. They had used the ripples and undulations in the topography to hide them for most of the way, but the last one hundred yards or so were tricky.
The two men finally slid into the ditch that ran alongside the road and caught their breath. When they recovered, Buck shrugged out of his big backpack and laid it on the ground in front of him.
“I don’t know why you didn’t carry this,” he said in a whisper. “You’re the size of a pack horse anyway.”
Isaac grinned back. “If a marine isn’t carrying something he doesn’t have a lot of other uses. Anyway, my pack weighs more than yours.”
They unzipped Buck’s pack and pulled out a spool of wire, four small plastic boxes with electrical contacts and four objects the size of bricks.
“How do you suppose Dan Cole got his hands on some C-4?” Isaac asked Buck as he worked at stripping wires and making connections.
“What do you mean? I took Gayle to the Naval Air Base in Lemoore when everything started to go bad. I thought a military base would be safe but, by the time we got there most of the navy guys had already caught the Rage. I had been there before, so I knew where the armory was and went looking for ammunition. There were a few crates of .556 left, so we grabbed them. The rifles were all gone, but we had rifles anyway.” He pointed at the four bricks. “The only thing left on the shelves was twenty of these. I almost left them, but then I decided they couldn’t hurt and might be of some help, so I grabbed them and brought them with us.”
“Well, it looks like you made the right decision. Now let’s get this stuff rigged and get back away from this road. This crap could go down any time.”
There were two hollow steel drainage pipes which ran under the street. The tubes were both about four feet in diameter and had been installed to channel water runoff under the road to keep from washing it out. Heavy rainstorms were rare in this part of California, but they did happen, and this was one of many constructions put in place by the state to control the resulting flooding. The road over the pipes had narrowed onto a two-lane bridge which had metal rails along the sides to keep cars from skidding off and into the ditch. There was about two feet of standing water under the bridge and in the pipes.
The two men swiveled their heads north and south to ensure they were alone on the road. Buck pointed at the pipes and gave Isaac an evil grin. “Somebody has to crawl under there, and one of us promised he would do whatever was asked of him as long as we let his family stay in Dragon’s Lair.”
Isaac sighed and picked up the bag with the C-4 and the wire roll. “Yeah, I guess I did say that.”
✽✽✽
Lobo and his people were too far away to hear the shooting in Marcus’ neighborhood, but when the agreed-upon time came, he raised the radio.
“Juan, do your attack thing, man. Make it convincing.”
There was no answer. “Juan, you read me? Cerna, you there?”
He turned to Arturo. “Didn’t we tell him to stay by the walkie?”
“Not that I recall, Jefe. He probably got the word to get into the trucks and jumped right into it. He’ll call when everything slows down. Probably can’t hear anything over the shooting now anyway.”
Lobo frowned but didn’t challenge Arturo’s conclusions. “Bitch better do a good job. He’s only got one screw up left before I come down hard on him.”
Arturo was only listening to his boss with half an ear. He hit the button to roll the window down and stuck his head out.
“Hey, man, you’re lettin’ the air out,” Lobo complained.
The big man didn’t answer. He was puzzled. “Shouldn’t we be able to hear something? I mean even a faint sound of gunfire or something?”
Lobo used his master control panel on the driver’s side door to roll the window back up, causing Arturo to yank his head back inside. “Nah, man, we’re too far away for that. Just stay ready in case those guys come this way.”
Arturo sat there for another five minutes, but something was clawing away at the back of his mind. It was true that they were far away, but there should be a raging firefight going on over at the survivor compound by now. He was convinced they should be able to hear something from where they were.
The big man opened his door. “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out before he could hear his boss threaten to leave him behind if the action started and he was out of the Jeep.
Arturo stepped into the middle of the road and listened intently. He realized that the Jeep’s engine was making too much noise, so he started walking towards Herndon Avenue. The sound of the vehicle faded but he still couldn’t hear any trace of gunfire in the distance.
He reached Herndon and peeked around the side of a brick building that used to be part of the Clovis school system. He checked the road to the east to make sure the expected rescue force was not heading their way. Seeing no sign of any vehicles, Arturo walked out onto the median and listened again. He was still looking east and when he turned to head back to the Jeep his eyes brushed across Herndon Avenue, facing west.
The big man’s face paled, and he started sprinting.
✽✽✽
Marcus had the Ford pushing eighty miles per hour as they sped past Herndon Avenue. They were on Highway 168 which was a straight shot from Shields to Academy. The rearview camera on the truck showed the other vehicles staying on their tail and keeping the formation tight. They all knew they were tempting fate with such a desperate move, but no other real options seemed possible. So far, it appeared that the gamble was paying off.
So Far.
Lobo was in the driver’s seat of the Jeep singing along with a CD he was playing when he saw his big adjutant running toward him. He was shouting something, but the Jefe couldn’t hear him over the noise of the CD and the Jeep’s engine. Lobo cussed at the interruption and hit the switch to roll down his window, simultaneously punching the radio knob to silence the music.
He leaned his head out. “What?”
Arturo was too winded to yell again. Sprinting was not something the big man regularly did. He reached the Jeep and had to hang on to the fender as he bent over and gulped air. He finally recovered enough to open the passenger door and slide into the seat.
“Trucks, a bunch of them, heading north on the 168.”
Lobo dropped the Jeep into drive and started blowing the horn, yelling for the rocket launcher teams to get back in their vehicles.
“You mean they’re headin’ south, right?”
A
rturo shook his head emphatically. “No. They are heading north, Jefe. They foxed us on this one.”
Lobo cursed and spun his tires as he shot up the short distance to Herndon and turned toward the freeway with all of their vehicles following behind.
“No, no! The other way,” Arturo shouted.
“The hell you talkin’ about, Turo. You said they’re on the freeway.”
“They are, but we’ll never catch them now, they’re too far away and were moving too fast. Turn around; take us north on Highland.”
Lobo cursed and spun the wheel, executing a sharp U-turn and almost clipping one of their own pursuing pickups in the process. The Jeep crashed across the curbs bordering the median and slid onto the eastbound lanes of Herndon, heading in the opposite direction. Arturo looked back to make sure the other vehicles had been able to make the turn. Satisfied that all of them had, he looked over at his boss.
“Highland goes all the way through to where 168 ends, and it turns into Tollhouse, Boss. Academy Avenue is right there at the end of Tollhouse. Those trucks have to be from the little group of people that Juan was supposed to attack and draw out the Hilltop people.”
Lobo frowned without taking his eyes from the road. “What? You’re confusing me, Turo.”
The telephone poles were flying by as Arturo checked on the following trucks again. “Don’t you see? The guys we want aren’t coming down the hill; the other group is trying to get up the hill. They faked us out, Jefe. We need to catch them before they reach Academy Avenue.”
✽✽✽
Myrna steered the Dodge pickup off of the dirt road and onto the pavement of Academy Avenue. She had struggled with the bumpy path that ran down the back way from the stronghold, but she made it. In truth, she had managed more difficult roads in her home country back in the Philippines. The Dodge’s four-wheel drive had handled the bumps and rocks easily.
Jaime sat beside her and checked his rifle, making sure that there was a round in the chamber and the selector switch was on “auto.” He was afraid but was trying not to let Myrna notice. Jaime, unlike his petite wife, had not been born in the Philippines. He was an American, born and bred. He met the pretty young Myrna six years ago when both were studying at California State University in Berkeley. They had fallen in love quickly and, when Myrna’s student visa expired, they had her fiancé visa application all ready to submit.
Their early years together had been great. They had both graduated with degrees in nursing and had chosen work assignments that allowed them to be together. Then the Rage had hit. They saw the devastation and the ease with which the sickness was spreading and recognized that they would soon contract the disease if they continued working in the hospital emergency room. So they had fled. They had been contacted by Dan earlier, and they decided to take him up on his offer to go and live with him in his isolated fortress, far away from the death and sickness that was spreading across the world.
And now here they were. It bothered Jaime that Myrna seemed less afraid than he was. He almost had to sit on his hands to hide the trembling. They had volunteered for this assignment because they had lately been feeling like they were not contributing much to the operation of the group. With two doctors now available, their nursing skills were not much in demand and Myrna wanted to do more than cook and clean. It was true that Jaime had gone on an earlier trip to town but he hadn’t done much more after that. So, when the Major said he needed volunteers, they had raised their hands without hesitation.
Myrna’s hand slid across the console and grasped her husband’s. He turned and looked at her pretty face. She smiled, and it had the same effect it always had on him. His fear faded, and he smiled back.
“You ready?” she asked.
He rolled down his window and stuck the rifle out. “Yes, let’s go before I change my mind.”
Myrna laughed and hit the accelerator.
The Dodge truck had plenty of torque, and it powered its way around the twists and turns of Academy. Jaime could see the gate leading to the main entrance and up to Dragon’s Lair through the windshield. He squinted as he examined the approaching foliage on the opposite side of the street. There! He pointed at the drain pipe sticking out from under the road and a patch of high weeds around it.
Myrna slammed the brakes on the Dodge, and the big vehicle continued to slide forward, leaving black streaks behind it. The truck stopped directly opposite the patch of weeds. Jaime lined up his sights and sent a stream of .556 bullets into the area alongside the road.
Invisible just a moment before, a man wearing an odd outfit of weeds and grass screamed and jumped up. He had been hit by at least one of Jaime’s bullets and was now fumbling with his rifle. The man was having trouble with the weapon because his left arm was hanging bloody and useless at his side. Jaime adjusted his aim and ran a ballistic stitch across his torso. The spy fell over onto his back where he jerked and shivered for a brief few seconds before dying.
Myrna put a hand on her husband’s knee. “You did it, baby! Now get his gun.”
✽✽✽
As the big Ford F-350 flashed by the signs advising that Highway 168 was ending and becoming Tollhouse Road, Marcus raised his handset. “Okay, we’re almost there. Be alert everyone.”
Highland Avenue dead-ended onto Tollhouse just before the street met Academy. As he flew past the avenue, Marcus glanced to his right and felt his blood chill. He grabbed the radio again. “Close it up; there are trucks heading toward us down Highland. Hit the gas, people; we need to move.”
The Ford got past the intersection with no problem. So did the window van and the pickups. The first sedan through the danger area had their windows rolled down and two rifles sticking out. As it passed Highland, they saw several trucks and a new Jeep skidding to a stop with people jumping out and scrambling for cover behind the vehicles. The two people on the south side of the car opened fire as they passed and the people from the trucks jumped and hit the dirt. Then the sedan was past the intersection and gone.
The second sedan had only been able to get one rifle out in time and it, too strafed the collection of vehicles as it streaked past the intersecting road. A few of the people on Highland fired back, and the rifleman in the car was hit in the hip as a round penetrated the door panel. The man yelped in pain, but he didn’t drop his weapon.
The third sedan was ready to fire with two rifles, but just as they entered the intersection, an explosion erupted to the left of their car. The rocket had hit the road near the left front quarter panel. The car swerved left and right on Tollhouse as the driver fought for control. The one tire had been flattened but the driver, a small woman with tattoos on both arms, kept the car moving, spraying the road with sparks and bits of rubber. Then they were past Highland kept going despite being on only three wheels.
The last sedan in the caravan had three rifles pouring a full-auto barrage out of the front and rear windows when it reached the point of ambush. The bullets they fired struck the stopped vehicles and hit one gang banger who was half-concealed behind the open door of his truck. The man wheeled like a ballet dancer and fell dead with a hole over his left eye.
The first rocket launcher had fired in haste, without taking the needed time to acquire a solid sight picture on his weapon. The second gang banger had already lined up his sights on the approaching sedan and was waiting for the car to get closer. When it was directly in front of him, the rocket launcher operator pulled the trigger smoothly, taking care not to yank on it and throw his aim off.
The 82 millimeter, high explosive rocket whooshed out of the firing tube and traveled a straight line, striking the sedan squarely between the front and rear doors. The explosion was spectacular. The car flew seven feet into the air and was fully engulfed in flames when it came back down. Its momentum carried it almost twenty yards as it spun, throwing off burning pieces. The entire road was now aflame, and smoke gushed into the air around them.
The screams from the burning vehicle stopped after a short
time.
Chapter 17
Myrna jumped from the Dodge and ran to the gate while reaching for the key hanging around her neck on a lanyard. She jammed the key into the lock and opened it, then swung the gate panel wide. She did the same thing with the second panel, and the driveway to the compound was now totally open.
Jaime snatched the M4 from the dead man and averted his eyes as he patted his pockets for extra magazines. The Major had let them know that any firefight used up horrendous quantities of ammunition and that they should take any opportunity to recover and conserve it when they could.
He heard Myrna shouting and glanced over to see her pointing behind him. He followed her pointing finger with his eyes and saw three infected crashing through the weeds, coming at him from the west. He was always surprised to see how fast the sickened people could move. Jaime was a big fan of zombie movies and they had conditioned him to expect shambling and slow-moving figures to be the norm if the world collapsed. These three were not like that. They growled like dogs as they ran toward him at a sprint.
Jaime put his rifle to his shoulder and shot each one in the head. He searched carefully around himself for any others, but it seemed like these three were the only ones to be coaxed out of their daytime nests. He stole a glance at his watch. Time was passing quickly. He hoped the expected trucks would be arriving soon.
Marcus reached the end of Tollhouse Road and skidded the Ford into a right turn onto Academy. He steered to the side of the road and put the truck in park. He yelled at the other three cabin occupants to stay put. There were five others in the truck bed, three women and two men. He shouted for them to stay put also. As the following trucks caught up to them and made the sharp turn, Marcus pointed down Academy and used his other hand to make a waving motion, indicating they should continue down the road to their destination.
Virgil's War- The Diseased World Page 27
