Silence fell in the van. They all sat there for several minutes, the green fields rushing by. “Do you know what happened to his wife, Annette, the woman you saw?” Maureen asked.
Tristin shook her head. “No. But I heard her screams. She saved me, I think.”
Lester made a hard right, and houses appeared along the road. Many had broken windows, and there were more bloodstains visible than Don would’ve liked to have seen. Cars were abandoned along the road, their doors open. In one case, the vehicle was still running, and a brief debate occurred about whether they should take the car, and split into two groups. The debate didn’t last long.
Dogs ran free, and livestock jogged along the road, or feasted on lawns. The animals were unaffected by the disease, and perhaps that was what the creator of the pathogen had wanted, or maybe they’d been lucky. Either way, this was great news. Quarantining people presented many unique challenges, but birds and wildlife were impossible to contain. This had worried Don, and was valuable information for him to give his people. Mosquitoes carrying the virus was still of great concern, but they had a limited flying range, and the containment zone was surrounded by water on three sides.
“What’s that?” Saura asked, as she pointed. She’d been silent since they’d left the Glades. There were dark patches beneath her eyes, and she looked haggard. She wasn’t twisting her hair around her finger.
Behind one of the houses, an arbor covered a large picnic table. Atop the table stood a man and women, and they were fighting off about fifteen walkers. The women hid behind her husband, while he swung a 2” by 4” piece of wood.
“Pull in there,” Maureen yelled.
Lester looked at Don, who shook his head, and Lester kept driving.
“Hey,” Maureen yelled. “We need to help them!”
“Maureen, do you know the population of Miami and surrounding areas?” Don asked. She didn’t answer. “It’s approximately three million. How is it—?”
“But they’re not right in front of your face,” Maureen said.
The van slowed as Lester heard Maureen’s plea. Don turned to Lester, and said, “Keep going.” He turned back to Maureen. “I understand how you feel. I do, trust me. Someday, we may have a nice dinner and I’ll tell you all about it. But right now you need to trust me.”
“But they’re people. How can you just let them die?” Maureen said.
“First, we don’t know if they’ll die. And second, there are another three million people in this quarantine, and I need to think about them. Even if twenty percent are currently infected, that leaves two and half million people I need to save.”
Maureen huffed and sat back in her seat. Don felt that pain in his neck he only got when he recognized his logic was twisted. Maureen preserved life, at all costs, and Don’s reasoning didn’t compute for her. What she said made a lot of sense, but there was a reason Don had major threat authority, and the ability to clamp down southern Florida. Maureen said, “Fine, but I don’t have to like it.”
“You wouldn’t be in this van if you did,” Don said.
The people being attacked had disappeared. Only a mound of human bodies undulating like a pile of maggots could be seen beneath the arbor. Don and Maureen’s eyes meet. Don looked away. She had the ethical high ground at the moment, but it bothered him how she acted like he was less than human because he had the right to decide who lives and who dies. That wasn’t how Don felt at all.
They passed row upon row of houses, and signs of civil unrest were everywhere. Overturned cars blocked the streets, discarded bones littered the ground, and burnt-out buildings still smoldered in the sunlight. Blood was everywhere: splattered on houses, covering cars, dripping down curbs, and smeared on windows and broken glass. Don looked around the van, and everyone except Maureen stared at their legs.
Something hit the side of the van. Walkers threw rocks at them from under a garage overhang. Lester sped up, and easily went around the blockade that was set across the road. They were getting close, and the neighborhood had a warren of canals behind the houses. These manmade rivers snaked through the development giving each house a boat slip, and access to the Atlantic and inner bays.
Lester said, “We could go by boat the rest of the way? Park this baby in a garage, take a boat into the marina,” Lester said.
Don hadn’t thought of that. They’d been lucky on the road so far, but he knew it was only a matter of time before they were seriously waylaid. On the boat, they would have only one route, while on the road they had many. The boat’s motor would roar in the relative stillness of the day with no power or vehicles on the move. They could be trapped much easier in the canal, and they would have to waste time finding a place to put the van, and then find a boat to use.
When Don looked up from his internal debate, everyone stared at him. “Nay. Keep going. Show me the marina, and we’ll hunker down and come up with a plan.” Tension filled the van as Lester maneuvered around obstacles. There were walkers, but they weren’t attacked again. Most of them appeared content to stay in the shadows until dark.
They left the housing development via two arched concrete bridges that led toward the interstate. Lester made a sharp right, and they entered a maintenance area. Large trucks and boats in dry-dock filled the dirt lot, and beyond a large metal warehouse with the words “Tony O’s” painted on the side in black lettering surrounded on three sides by canals. Most of the slips were filled with boats and a huge white rack sat at one end of the lot stacked with boats of all sizes.
Lester stopped the van, and looked to Don, who peered through the windshield, his mind working through all the angles, and figuring possible outcomes. “First,” he said. “Only Lester and I are going.” Maureen and Raul protested, and Don put up a hand. “Trust. Remember?” No response. “Lester knows how to modify the radio, and I will get him his parts. You will stand guard from there,” said Don, as he pointed at an empty area with high grass around its perimeter. The spot looked like a boat had been dry-docked there until recently. “Lester will back the van in there, and he and I will sneak around back. Looks like it’s pretty quiet.”
“What about your people? Can’t we hear what they say?” Saura asked.
“I’ll fill you in,” said Don. When he saw Maureen, Raul, and Saura exchange glances, he said, “What?”
“You could tell us anything,” Maureen said. “No offense to Lester, but you guys are the original team. We’re add-ons.”
“I understand. Overruled. Beep the horn if there’s a major problem.”
Don packed his jacket with the extra eleven shells and checked the two in the shotgun. Lester racked the slide on the M16, and opened his door and got out, followed by Don.
The afternoon sun baked the ground, and steam rose into the air as the rainwater evaporated. Mangrove trees and bushes surrounded the parking lot, and Don and Lester crept through the tangled vegetation. A gentle breeze pushed across the marina, and the air smelled of smoke. When they were around the side of the warehouse, Don led Lester through a series of dry-docked boats. A stack of trailers was on display in front of the building, and a large window opened into an office.
They worked their way around back. Nothing moved, and there was no sound except the occasional tap of the guide wire against the flagpole. Piles of parts, discarded motors, and other marine trash sat stacked along one side of the warehouse, and provided excellent cover. Large roll-up doors covered the other side of the building.
Don and Lester ran the short distance from the cover of the boats to the side of the warehouse. They looked in a window, and nothing moved within. Boats stood in ordered rows in various states of repair, and it looked like nothing had been messed with. There were contact sensors on the window, but the power had been out for over twenty-four hours, so the backup battery would be close to dead. While Lester covered him, Don slipped his knife up under the windowpane and flipped open the clasp. No alarm sounded, and Don opened the window, and he and Lester slipped inside.
/> It was dark in the warehouse. Don had point, and he scanned the area as Lester followed. Tools were laid out on the benches, and there were no walkers in sight. The sound of the window lock clicking into place made Don freeze. “Shit,” he said. Behind him, a man with black hair in his mid-fifties blocked the way, a six-shooter in his hand, the barrel of which floated back and forth between Lester and Don.
“Put those guns down, and put your hands up,” the man said.
Lester looked to Don, who nodded. They both placed their weapons on the floor. The man looked tired, but there were no white scars on his face. “I’m Don, and this is my partner Lester. We’re federal agents.” Don looked over at Lester just in time to see him smile briefly.
“Tony Orfman,” said the man. “Now get on the ground, hands behind your head.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Stomach acid crept up Maureen’s throat as she watched Lester and Don disappear into the mangroves at the edge of the marina’s storage lot. It pained her to depend on Don so much. She usually counted on one person—herself, but she remembered this wasn’t a typical day in the ER. Don had been trained most of his life to deal with tense situations, and it brought comfort knowing he watched out for her.
The sky was getting dark, and it looked like rain again soon. Nothing moved on the road beyond the dirt lot. The entrance was partly hidden by mangroves, and the turn toward the interstate dominated the road. Maureen opened the windows, and the sweet smell of hibiscus and smoke floated on the breeze. The boats docked in the marina bobbed and listed, and somewhere a bird tapped a tree. Maureen breathed in the fresh air, and for an instant felt relaxed.
“You think he’ll be able to do this?” asked Raul. “Sounds like ten kinds of bullshit to me.”
Maureen didn’t answer. She stared at a section of mangroves that ran along the southern side of the metal building. “Shush,” she said.
“You see something, Eagle Eye?” Raul said, as he followed her gaze.
The mangrove leaves rustled, and dark shapes appeared. She got her rifle ready, and Raul pulled the Sig Saur from his waistband. Saura and Tristin watched, their faces split with fear and apprehension. Time seemed to slow, and Maureen felt herself fading, her weariness beckoning her toward sleep.
Don and Lester ran toward the building and hid within a pile of junk parts. The top of Lester’s head floated above the garbage pile for a few seconds and then disappeared. There were no sirens, no protests from within the building. All was spooky quiet.
“Who is that guy?” Tristin asked. “Don, I mean.”
“He claims to be James Bond, but all we have is his word for it,” Raul said.
“We have a bit more than that,” countered Maureen. “At the beginning, I’d have agreed with you, but everything he’s done since we meet him is consistent with what he says he is.”
“Yeah, but do you know how many morons must be playing live Dead Rising right now? These video games warp the mind,” Raul joked, but nobody laughed. “How do you know he’s just not playing out a fantasy he’s dreamt about all his life?”
“I just know,” Maureen said.
“His story is very convenient,” Saura said. “No ID, no way to prove who he is. That fits real neat with the idea that he can’t approach the police or the military for help.”
“Certainly is convenient,” Raul said.
Maureen’s teeth clamped down on her lip. “Look, I understand where you’re coming from, but I tell you he isn’t lying. I deal with liars of every color, creed, profession, and social status every day at the hospital. Everyone lies the same way, and Don isn’t lying.”
“How did you meet him?” Tristin asked.
Maureen told the entire story from first to last, and the minutes ticked on with no signs from Don. “If he hadn’t found us, I don’t want to think about where we might be.”
“You know where we’d be. I’d be dead, and you both would be sex toys,” Raul said, gesturing toward Maureen and Saura.
Tristin made a face, and Raul said, “I’m sorry. How old are you anyway, Emma Watson?”
“Fourteen,” Tristin said, and Raul let a long sigh escape his lips.
“You lost your parents to the disease?” Raul asked.
“Yes. I had to run from my house to get away from them. That’s how I got trapped by the underpass where Don and Lester found me,” she said.
“Interesting. He wouldn’t let me stop for the greater good, but he had no problem stopping himself to help you and Tank. But…” She sounded foolish. Tristin and Tank were the product of a different time and place, and she didn’t understand Don’s thought process at the time. She guessed that if those two people they’d seen fighting for their lives atop the picnic table were children, Don would have reacted differently. At least she liked to believe so.
“Yeah, I suppose,” Tristin said. “Lester was the one who came for me. I don’t know that Don had a choice. What’s that?” She pointed through the front windshield from the back seat. Maureen searched for what she was pointing at, but saw nothing.
“What?” Saura asked.
“There, by the smoke,” Tristin said.
Several helicopters raced toward Miami central. They looked to be the big military copters that transported soldiers and supplies. “That’s good news,” Maureen said, putting her arm around Tristin. Tank got up and sat in the back seat, staring out the windshield. Jessie was shaking and curled up on the floor behind the driver’s seat.
“Those are Chinooks. Definitely the military,” Raul said.
As if on cue, a loud rumble built behind them. The hedge of mangrove made it impossible to see what was happening, but as the sound continued to rise, so did Maureen’s angst. Tank barked.
“Quiet,” Maureen said. Her gaze never left the marina’s entrance where a small section of the road was visible. The noise had become deafening, and Maureen thought the ground was collapsing beneath them. She wrung her hands, and pulled Tristin to her. The girl shook, and all the normalcy they’d imparted to her fled. She was again the frightened young girl with wide eyes. This hurt Maureen in ways she hadn’t believed possible. She didn’t have kids, and there weren’t plans to have any, but she felt more for Tristin than her protection instinct.
Maureen had an insane idea: when they got out of this mess, she’d adopt the girl and together they’d help each other put their lives back together. But that was crazy. She had no way of knowing if the girl had family that might want her, or if the girl even wanted to be with her. Judging by the way she gripped Maureen’s arm, she thought it might work out. A daughter. It even sounded weird in her head.
The approaching rain announced its impending arrival with a crack of thunder that lit the gray sky. Squeaking and the popping of stones under rubber tires joined the grumble, and soon green army trucks were passing before the marina’s entrance toward the interstate.
A line of vehicles made up of tanks, urban assault vehicles, jeeps, troop carriers, and supply trucks inched by the lot entrance. They were headed north, toward central Miami, and they didn’t appear to notice the marina, or anything that was happening there.
“About time,” Raul said.
“Yeah. Things are about to change dramatically,” Maureen said.
The convoy passed without incident, and the rumble died away. With them went hope, and destruction. The rain started, first as a thin mist, and then a steady drizzle. The four companions sat in silence, watching the rain run down the windows into mud puddles. Maureen passed around the last of their food, and she checked her rifle a second time. Seeing her do this, Raul checked his Sig Saur and laid it on his lap. Three shots between them.
Maureen started to worry. An hour had slipped away since Lester and Don disappeared around the side of the building, and he had said they shouldn’t be much longer than that. Every tick of the clock reminded Maureen that Don hadn’t come back, and she thought about what it would mean if he didn’t return.
“What’s that?” aske
d Tristin. She sat bolt upright, her eyes the size of quarters. She stared at the marina entrance through the rain, and there appeared to be a person standing just within the mangroves, watching them. Then there were two dark shapes there, and then three.
“Oh poop,” Maureen said, and Tristin giggled. The sound of her laughter was a like a tonic for the soul.
“There are more of them there,” Saura said. “Look.”
“Shitttttt,” said Raul. “How the hell did they find us?”
“Probably following the convoy,” Maureen said. “We’re just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Story of my life,” Raul said.
“Are you sure they see us?” Tristin asked.
“Hard to tell,” Maureen said. “Everybody get down. Saura, grab Tank.” Maureen and crew got as low as they could so they couldn’t be seen through the van’s windows.
Maureen lifted her head and peeked through the windshield. The rain was stopping, and a lit mist covered everything. Two walkers came toward the van. That the walkers had sent only two into the marina to investigate meant they were communicating, and capable of rational thought.
A walker looked their way, and Maureen dropped, but she didn’t think she’d been fast enough. There was yelling and screaming, and the rain picked up, beating the roof of the van. Maureen stole another glance.
Two walkers yelled and pointed toward the van, and more sleepwalkers appeared all around the marina entrance. At first glance, there looked to be ten or fifteen, but as they moved toward the van, Maureen counted many more. She threw herself into the front seat and stabbed the van’s horn with her fist. It wasn’t loud, and sounded clownish, but it stopped the walkers advance. Maureen beeped the horn again, and again, but Don and Lester didn’t come.
“Lester said they’re afraid of loud noises,” Raul said.
“They don’t look afraid. They look mad,” Maureen said. She looked toward the warehouse, hoping beyond hope that Don would appear, but he wasn’t there.
The horde advanced again, and to Maureen’s dismay, she saw they had a vehicle, and it was parked across the marina’s entrance.
Awake Page 18
