“Daniel…” Serafina warned. She didn’t want him working the girls into some form of hysteria. Things were challenging enough already without putting the girls in a state of panic, especially Isabella.
“Sorry,” he replied, looking ahead. Glancing in the mirror, he saw Logan and the others slow as they took in the scene at the base. He imagined Logan’s surprise at the devastation was similar to what he felt. He thought they’d do better at addressing and fighting off the virus. Apparently it had overwhelmed them before they’d even had a chance.
Considering the damaged military vehicles and their contents, Daniel realized there could be supplies and possibly additional weapons in the wreckage. Pulling to the side of the road, he watched in the mirror to verify Logan was following his lead. They’d agreed to minimize use of the CB radio to avoid gaining unwanted attention during their journey, so when he saw Logan pull over and stop only a short distance behind their car, he breathed a small sigh of relief.
“What are we doing?” Serafina asked.
Pointing towards the nearest military vehicle, a Humvee with a body hanging out of a broken windshield, he said, “Gonna check it out, see if there’s anything we can use.”
“Okay, I’ll - ”
Daniel cut her off, shaking his head. “Not this time. My turn. You can’t expect me to let you be the one to go into dangerous places every time.” Turning his head to look at her, he finished with, “I got this.” He pressed the ignition button, turning off the engine, and got out of the car, grabbing his shotgun as he did.
Looking over at the damaged vehicles that were closest to them, he counted four in total, including a faded white truck and a burgundy colored minivan. The minivan had apparently assumed the truck would be successful in its attempt to breach the fencing. When the truck had failed, the van had plowed into it from behind, forcing its rear end upward. Fifty yards on either side of the van/truck mess, military vehicles sat, quietly resting on the edge of the fencing, the heavy-duty bars of the fencing wrapped around the vehicles. The closest military vehicle was an M-1117 Armored Security Vehicle. Armored from bumper to bumper, capable of climbing over obstacles of five feet in height, and weighing close to 30,000 pounds, the vehicle should have been capable of getting over and through the fence. For some reason, though, it had struck the fence at an awkward angle, almost taking it on its side instead of straight on. As it was, it rested sideways along the fence, angled downward towards the grass slope that descended from the fence. The other military vehicle was the more common HMMV, or Humvee, which had attempted to break through the fence straight on. The driver’s mistake had been both curious and fatal, having tried to break through one of the heavy-duty, reinforced vertical poles that supported the fence. The pole had barely budged, bending outward slightly without giving much else. It had ripped through the vehicle of the body before stopping the Humvee by crushing through the engine block into the cabin of the vehicle. What remained of the driver was barely visible beyond the pole.
A voice next to him, asked, “Check ‘em for supplies?”
Daniel looked over at the sound of the voice. It was Logan. The man’s face was, as almost always, serious as he looked at the wreckage, surveying what was there emotionlessly.
“Yeah,” Daniel replied. But what’s the deal with M Eleven Seventeen? I thought those things were reserved for use in theater.” The term in theater referred to areas where combat operations were taking place.
“Not sure,” Logan replied, “but I did hear that they’re testing some experimental aircraft here. Something at the TS level. Guess they felt the need for extra security.”
Daniel nodded. “Hunh. Makes sense. Guess I’ve been out too long to be in the loop.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “So yeah, look for ammo, food, water, and anything else of value. With any luck we’ll find some or all of it.”
“Yeah, if they didn’t try to leave without planning to do so first,” Logan responded, looking towards the military vehicles. “Seems unlikely they’d try to exit it here and not through the main gate unless they were running from something.”
“True.” Daniel hoisted his weapon. “Either way, it doesn’t hurt to check.”
“Can I come with?” a voice asked. It was Joe, standing behind Logan.
Daniel turned his head to look at the man while Logan turned around. Since the other man had spent more time with him, Daniel deferred to the Army veteran.
“Whaddaya think?”
Logan looked at the other man and nodded. “Sure. It’ll be good to have another set of eyes looking things over. Stay back and let us clear the vehicles first, though.”
“Can I have a gun?”
Logan shook his head. “You know how I feel about my guns. Nobody else handles them.”
Joe turned to Daniel, his eyes looking at him questioningly.
Daniel shook his head. “We’ve only got two other guns,” he lied smoothly, trusting Logan’s judgement, “Serafina has one, Ashley has the other. I won’t leave them unarmed.”
Logan stepped in. “Like I said, stay back and let us clear things first.”
Looking defeated, Joe nodded, looking down and away. “Okay.”
Daniel glanced over at Serafina and nodded before walking towards the Armored Security Vehicle, descending the slight hill that led to a narrow area designed to gather rainwater and guide it away from the fence towards a drainpipe off to the left. Being summer, the grass was mostly dry, but there was a small patch of darker green along the center of the trough, where water from the area’s sprinkler system found the drain.
Approaching the first vehicle, Daniel’s eyes found the first body, that of a young female Navy Sailor in green camouflage. Lying face down in the grass near the open driver’s door, the back of her uniform had been torn open, exposing pale flesh that had been pulled and torn. The back of her head was a bloody mess of matted red hair and broken bits of bone.
Saddened by the loss of the young woman’s life, Daniel’s eyes traveled down her body, settling on the belt at the woman’s waist. The holster for the Sailor’s gun was empty, as were the holders for the spare clips of ammunition. Frowning, he stepped sideways, giving the woman’s body a wide berth as he angled towards the open cabin of the vehicle. Looking upwards into the vehicle, he saw a similarly young man sitting in the passenger seat. His head was tilted backwards, his throat had been torn open, leaving a massive, gaping wound exposed to the flies that feasted on his remains. The man’s mouth hung open as he stared towards the roof of the vehicle for eternity.
“Check that guy?” Daniel asked of Logan.
“On it.” The man went around the big vehicle, keeping his weapon trained on it as he moved. Once he reached the other side of the armored vehicle, he quickly opened the passenger side door. The body of the young Sailor slid sideways and downwards, slumping towards Logan, held in place only by the seat belt, which was still engaged. Logan’s eyes traveled along the young man’s body. After a second, he shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Shit.” Daniel replied. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up onto the metal platform that acted as a step when entering the M-1117, and leaned into the cabin so that he could look into the back of the vehicle. There were three bodies in the rear section of the interior, two men and a woman, all in their mid-twenties. All of them were dead, the young woman and one of the men still strapped in their seatbelts, their faces, throats, and torsos savagely torn apart. The other man’s body laid across them and had reached towards the front seat, his hands still near the throat of the man in the passenger seat. The back of his head had been blown apart by a bullet fired from close range, mostly likely from the young woman based on her position. Her hands were empty, however, as were those of the man seated beside her. Their belts were empty as well.
Someone had been here already.
Looking towards the rear of the vehicle, he saw empty boxes sitting in the cargo area. Whoever had taken the Sailors’ weapons had stolen the supplies
as well.
“Dammit,” he muttered, stepping back down from the big vehicle.
Logan shook his head before backing away from the vehicle and walking over to join him.
“Nothing?” Joe asked from nearby.
“No. Someone raided it before we got here.”
“Can I look?” The man asked.
“Sure, but be sure not to touch any of the bodies, even if you’ve got gloves.”
“Okay. Just give me a sec.”
“Fine,” Daniel replied, turning towards Logan. “I can’t say I blame whoever took the supplies, but it still sucks.”
“No doubt,” the other man said, shaking his head. “Why don’t you wait for him while I check out the truck and van?”
“Hold on. Too many possibilities for trouble there. Let me back you up.”
“Okay.”
Turning towards the Armored Security Vehicle, Daniel raised his voice. “Let’s go, Joe.”
“Alright,” Joe said, hopping down from his perch. He shook his head as he approached. “Nothing there.”
“I know. Come on.” Daniel replied, walking next to Logan as he approached the truck and van. A middle-aged Caucasian woman laid on the ground near the passenger side of the truck, her neck twisted at an awkward angle. Nearby, a small girl laid on her back, staring skyward in death.
Moving around them Daniel looked into the interior of the truck. The glove compartment was hanging open, its contents spilled out onto the seat and floorboard of the cabin. There appeared to be nothing of value to them, only clusters of papers and a small can of pepper spray. Reaching down, Daniel grabbed the can, turned, and tossed it to Joe. “Here. Better than nothing until we find you a gun.”
Joe looked at the can briefly before shrugging and stuffing it into his pocket. “Thanks.”
Sighing in frustration, Daniel moved away from the truck, heading towards the minivan. The smaller vehicle front end was buried under the rear of the truck, the top of the shattered windshield barely visible above the rear bumper of the large vehicle. Moving around to the sliding door on the passenger side, Daniel motioned for Logan to cover him as he threw open the door. With the exception of the two dead bodies in the front seats of the van, the interior was mostly empty. Breathing through his nose loudly in frustration, Daniel’s eyes settled on a reusable shopping bag tucked behind the driver’s seat. He glanced towards the front seats to make sure the bodies there were actually dead, but after seeing the rear bumper of the truck not four inches from the headrests of the seats, it was clear that no one could survive such an impact. Arms and hands protruded out from under the metal, lifeless and covered in long streams of dried blood.
Covering his nose, he reached in and grabbed the reusable bag. Stepping back, he looked inside. It wasn’t much - instant noodles and mac and cheese cups, but it was something. Looking around further, he saw two bottles of Gatorade. He grabbed those as well before moving to the back of the van. He opened the rear doors to the van, looking into its interior storage area and finding a box with more food: granola bars, several cans of fruit (both pineapple and peach slices), more instant noodles, a box of cereal (Raisin Bran), two cans of chili, and three cans of soup.
“Finally,” he said, lifting the box out of the van. Looking towards the Humvee, he could see it was, like the other vehicles, empty. The body of a black male Sailor laid face down on the ground near the passenger side of the vehicle, and the driver’s body was pinned behind the pole.
“Tell you what,” Daniel said, looking at Logan, “toss that bag on top of this box and I’ll take it to your car. You two check out the Humvee. It looks empty.”
“Yeah, sounds good. Glad you found that, otherwise this would have been a waste - not that I’m being critical of you, I’d have done the same thing, it’s just that we didn’t expect things to be cleaned out.”
“Maybe we should have,” Daniel offered, still staring towards the Humvee. After a moment, he added, “well, this is getting heavy. See you back at the car?”
“Yeah,” Logan said. He turned his head towards Joe briefly before starting towards the Humvee. “Let’s go.”
Daniel left the two behind as he carried the box to the car. Arriving back at the vehicle, he found Paul standing there, holding the wooden staff he favored in his right hand, leaning on it as he watched Daniel approach.
“Need some help?”
“Nah, just open the back so I can set it down.”
The teenager moved towards the back of the Prius and opened the hatchback, lifting it until it was locked in place. Daniel lowered the box into the cargo area, then stepped back. Looking at the young man, he asked, “Hungry?”
Paul shook his head. “No, thanks.”
Looking towards where Logan and Paul were, Daniel asked, “How is it, riding with them?”
Paul shrugged. “Okay, I guess. As you know, Logan doesn’t talk much. Joe’s nice enough, but it seems…”
Daniel looked at the younger man. “Forced?”
Paul nodded. “Yeah. Exactly.”
“Seems like he was getting along with Isabella.”
“Back when we stopped earlier? Yeah, I saw that, too. He hasn’t said anything about her, though.”
Looking towards the wrecked Humvee, Daniel saw the pair approaching. Joe was carrying two objects in his hands. Seeing Daniel looking in their direction, he raised them up. An antenna protruded from one end of each device.
“I guess they found radios.”
As the two men approached, Logan looked west, in the direction they’d be headed, while Joe held the radios up again, a proud grin on his face.
“These will come in handy for sure!”
Daniel nodded and smiled, appeasing the man. “Most definitely,” he conceded, though after visiting the Naval Air Station, he felt a strong desire to avoid drawing attention to their group. Based simply on the fact that there were people in the immediate area with military grade, fully automatic weapons, it certainly seemed like stealth was their best course of action.
Looking back at the box he’d stuffed into the back of the Prius that Logan was driving, he decided the stop hadn’t been a total waste of time.
“Alright,” he began, looking west, towards the setting sun. “Let’s get back on the road. I wanna put some distance between us and the base before we stop for the night.”
Logan nodded as he made his way towards the driver’s seat. “Right behind you,” he said, nodding sharply.
Paul smiled as well, offering an extended fist. Daniel stuck his own out to meet it, touching knuckles. The two smiled before Paul turned and headed for the backseat, wooden staff in hand.
Looking towards Joe, he saw the man had already gotten into the passenger seat of the car.
‘Alright then,’ he thought, as he walked to where Serafina and the others waited.
Getting into the car, he shook his head. ‘That guy sure is awkward,’ he thought to himself as he pressed the ignition button, starting the car's electric-powered engine.
Pulling the small car back onto the highway, he continued heading west. Soon they’d have to stop for the night, and finding somewhere to stop was something they had to do during daylight hours, so he pressed down on the accelerator, wanting to put distance between them and the base. Whoever had taken the weapons of the fallen Sailors could be close by, so it seemed safe to reason that the farther they went, the less the chance of a run-in with them.
Threats were everywhere, and they were barely over halfway to their destination.
In less than eight hours, everything would change.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
North Bakersfield, California
Looking at the gun pointed at his face, Trent McConnell relented. He tossed his gun aside before reaching in his pocket and withdrawing the keys to the massive SUV he’d taken from the Ford Dealership. Though he hated to part ways with the big, heavily modified Ford Excursion with massive, 40-inch tires and a 4 inch lift, he saw no choice.
Besides, the damn thing had required the gas from three smaller vehicles to fill its tank.
Tossing the keys to the ground in front of the black man, he said, “Here you go.”
The man smirked, talking to the other members of his gang while looking at Trent. “This mothafucka. Driving ‘round in that big SUV all by himself.” The five men with him laughed in response.
“Muss be tryna compensate fo’ somethin’,” one of the men said, slapping his knee.
Feeling his blood boil inside him, he willed himself to stay cool. Even with his now-discarded weapon, there was no way to win this fight. The lie found his tongue easily, as they always had.
“I was hoping to help others.” He offered.
The leader of the group shrugged. “Yeah, right.”
“No, seriously. I thought I could take this big ol’ thing and drive to San Francisco, helping people along the way. It’s got enough room, and with that suspension and those tires, it could leave the road whenever necessary to get around the wrecks and shit.”
Stepping closer, the black man’s face got serious as he stared into Trent’s eyes. The man’s voice took on a hard, direct tone as he spoke. “I don’t believe you, bruh. You ain’t out here tryin’ to help no one.”
Sensing danger, Trent McConnell raised his hands up to his waist slowly. “Look, I don’t want trouble, here. If you don’t believe me, okay. I gave you my gun, I gave you the keys to the SUV. Honestly, I don’t have anything else left to give.”
The man in front of him reached up and rubbed his chin slowly as he looked at Trent, his eyes looking up and down Trent’s body.
When they paused on his left arm, Trent knew he was in trouble.
The man’s eyes came back up and met Trent’s before he spoke again in the same hard tone. “So you say you’re out here trying to help people, right?” he asked.
“Yes.”
The man spread his arms wide, questioningly. “So where the fuck are they? Why you out here by yourself?”
Surviving Rage | Book 3 Page 32
