Infected World Trilogy (Books 1-3): They Only Come Out At Night

by Guenther, David

  Drying herself in front of the mirror, she had expected to see her body bruised and battered. Instead she had to admit she not only looked good, but she was really toned. She felt the weight of the world come back down upon her shoulders as she donned her uniform top. What else is going to go wrong for me today, and if not today, tomorrow?

  Chapter 17

  Westbound Historic Route 66, Arizona. April 5, 2029

  The road was clear and Camp Navajo was already twenty miles behind them. There was no longer any sign of the blue and green clouds from the bioweapon bunker. The winds were coming in from the west and southwest so there would be a safe trip and no additional hazards from the clouds making it to Surprise.

  Hale could no longer resist the urge to have a hit of nicotine. Reaching into his pocket, he felt disgust that his cigarettes were gone. A quick check of his other pockets did not turn them up either. The sign for a truck stop a half mile ahead made him debate his own sanity as he fought with himself at the potential security risk just to have more cigarettes. “Driver, take the next exit proceed towards the truck stop.” Hale then changed to the convoy frequency. “Stallion 7 to all Stallions. We’re taking the next exit so I can inspect the security of your cargos. Stallion 7 out.”Hale was relieved to see Gottlieb’s ASV turn off the highway and head on towards the truck stop, then stop three hundred feet short.

  All the troops were standing in front of Hale, half expecting an ass chewing. “We’ve had a fun day so far. I want to get back to our base and call it a night. I also want to make sure no one goes ‘boom’ along the way. While I inspect the cargo in each truck, you may take a break over at the truck stop. Be sure to clear it out properly first. Take one of the Guardians in case you need immediate support. I want two bodies with me manning weapons in case we have any nasty surprises. Its 1600 now, I expect to be on the road at 1630. You’ve all done a damn good job today. Let’s all make it home. Dismissed.” Hale nodded to both McBain and Hilton. “If you happen to find a case or two of my brand of cigarettes in the store, do me a favor and pick them up for me, same for soda and snacks for the rest of the return trip. I don’t want to stop again until we’re home.”

  McBain was about to make a smart remark and could see in Hale’s eyes he was too tired to be messed with and decided to play it cool. “You want matches or lighters to go with the smokes, Master Sergeant?” Hale reached into his pocket to be sure he had one of his prize possessions, an ancient, battered lighter. Though scratched and worn, the Green Ivy patch of the Fourth Infantry Division was recognizable over the map of Iran.

  “I could use a bottle or two of lighter fluid. Now get going before those bastards pick the store clean before you even get in there.” Hale could not help but smile as the pair ran all out for the truck stop. The Guardian was already in front of the building and the first team was getting ready to breach the front entrance.

  The first truck’s cargo was tied down safely and Hale was pleased that, even rushed, his people had done a good job. He then stopped at the realization that they were his people. He’d have to really get with the lieutenant about serious training if they were going to all survive the shit they were in.

  “Target coming from the East, one klick moving fast. Looks like a blue four door sedan,” the gunner of the Guardian shouted over to Hale, prompting him to stop his cargo inspection. “Target is on the exit road appears to be heading for us. White female driver, and one, maybe two, children.” Hale walked over to the Guardian and reached up for the gunner’s binoculars. What he saw made his blood feel cold in his veins.

  “Get on your guns and destroy target before it gets any closer to us! Move goddamn it!” The gunner shook off his initial surprise then seemed to move in slow motion as he aimed and fired at the car. The 40mm first shot was an amazing shot, exploding in the car’s interior. The explosion set the gas tank on fire and was quickly engulfed in flames. Hale dropped down on his butt, losing all strength to keep standing. The rest of the troops came running from the truck stop as Hale buried his face in his hands.

  “Master Sergeant Hale, the car’s burning weird. The smoke is blue and green, the gunner reported. Hale jumped back to his feet, his face wet from tears and sweat.

  “Everyone get in your transports and button up! The smoke is contaminated! Move! Move! Move!” Hale was running for his own Guardian as the troops kept running for their vehicles. “Everyone head west two clicks and we’ll form up there. Stay the hell away from the smoke!” Smoke continued to billow all around the car, seeming to spread out instead of just rising. Hale said a prayer as he held the hatch open for the rest of his crew.

  McBain was the first to reach the hatch and Hale didn’t mince words. “Get that son of a bitch moving ASAP! If Hilton and I aren’t in, well, just move! And for God’s sake stay the hell away from the smoke!” Hale knew he was panicking and couldn’t help it. Hilton turned the corner of the armored car at that moment, loaded down with four colorful civilian backpacks. Hale grabbed him by his body armor and physically threw the corporal through the hatch and grabbed hold to pull himself in as it jerked forward. He fell forward then slid back as the Guardian picked up speed. He reached over and finally closed the hatch as the driver engaged the CBN (chemical, biological, nuclear) pressure switch to create overpressure inside the vehicle to keep out any contaminants.

  Hilton and Hale bounced around on the deck until finding good hand holds, each deciding to stay put until the ride was less bumpy. “I’ll be back on the road in a minute or two y’all just hang on till then.” McBain aimed for another dip and grinned when the ASV went airborne for five feet before slamming back onto the ground. Damn Christmas came early this year, he thought before driving up onto the exit road to Highway 40.

  The ride was smooth enough now for Hale and Hilton to move around. Hale climbed up into the gunner’s seat and turned the turret around to see if he could see the destroyed car. He was disappointed to see it was blocked by the side of a small hill. He could see the smoke still rising and involuntarily shuddered. Turning the turret back to the front, he could see the convoy pulled over, each vehicle in its correct position to continue.

  “Stallion 7 to all Stallions. That blue car you saw was in fact covered in blue. They must have driven through the blue and green smoke and been contaminated. Camp Navajo and the surrounding area, depending how far the smoke went, will be contaminated for a long damn time. No resupply will be possible from there in my lifetime. Now, let’s go home.” McBain pulled in behind the lead Guardian and proceeded west. Hale felt a pull at his leg, Hilton held a case of cigarettes up to him.

  “We’re clear, we can disengage the CBN and unbutton.” He tore open the case and then quickly lit up a cancer stick. Covering it with one hand, he pulled down his goggles with the other and popped the gunner’s hatch, enjoying the fresh air, ducking down as needed to take a pull from his cigarette, happy to see his hands no longer shaking.

  Chapter 18

  Converse County Airport, Wyoming. April 5, 2029

  Everything felt like it was vibrating while at the same time there was an unpleasant sensation of floating. Then the pain hit as Caleb began to wake up. He realized immediately he was back on the C130, the noise from the engines were in competition with the pain in his head and the aching in his shoulder. “I didn’t think you’d wake up this soon, sir. I got some Motrin for you. Just give me a minute.” Staff Sergeant Barclay released some of the lap belts holding Caleb down on the red webbed seat. He handed him the Motrin and a white paper cup of water. Caleb drank greedily of the water and held up the empty cup for more.

  “More!” he croaked out, surprised at the sound of his own voice.

  “Sir, this is all I can let you have. The load toad says we’re about ten minutes out, so just relax.” The realization of where he was struck home at that moment.

  “Barclay, how many?” his voice began to sound more like his own. “How’d we get here?”

  “Sir, it’s you, me and Fields. T
he two guardsmen that were with us were fakes; they got everyone else. Then the four man team that flew in with us showed up like the cavalry the same time the bad guys had reinforcements come in with their own truck,” Barclay stopped talking when he saw Caleb had passed out. “And we all lived happily ever after.”

  Barclay moved over to check on Fields who was loudly snoring. He dropped down on the seat next to him and closed his eyes for just a second. The bouncing of the plane woke him as the copilot made an announcement over the PA, “The pilot has just crashed the plane into the runway but everyone should survive. Please stay seated until the plane comes to a complete stop.” Before the copilot let go of the microphone in the background the pilot could be heard, “Thanks, asshole, now let’s get this girl put to bed. I have a date tonight.”

  The back of the plane opened up and the loadmaster dropped the ramp as it suddenly became quiet as the engines were shut down. Cargo specialists and maintenance personnel boarded the plane as the crew exited to do their paperwork on the plane’s condition. An Army medic looked lost as he entered through the crew hatch, then saw the two men still tied down. He went from confused to angered.

  “That’s no way to transport wounded!” the young specialist practically shouted. Staff Sergeant Barclay nodded in agreement.

  “We’ll have to wait until the cargo pallets are removed before we can get them off the plane. I don’t fancy bouncing them around trying to carry them while walking on the seats. Both of them are resting okay as you can see. They should have the cargo off in ten to fifteen minutes. If they don’t blow us up first, seeing as it’s all ammo. I’m not even sure if they’d have allowed passengers onboard an aircraft carrying munitions before the plague.” The medic missed Barclay’s smile as he looked apprehensively at the pallets of ammo filling the entire center of the plane.

  The last pallet was being removed when a pair of medics came aboard with a lightweight stretcher. They popped a lever and the bottom dropped down so it could be wheeled. When they saw the extent of Fields’ injury, one of the medics ran out the forward crew hatch and drove a civilian ambulance to the rear of the aircraft. The other two gently picked him up and carried him in a seated position to the back of the plane where two other medics carried him to the back of the ambulance.

  They all returned to pickup Caleb and gently strap him onto the stretcher before wheeling him to the back of the aircraft. A couple maintainers came over and assisted them in lowering him down to the flightline. Barclay decided he was going to ride along when an old security forces officer with the twin bars of a captain on his beret stopped him.

  “Staff Sergeant Barclay? I’m Capt Conrad. I need to ask you a few questions,” Conrad could see both the concern for Caleb and the irritation at being stopped from accompanying both wounded men, “This will only take a couple minutes or so. I need to hear your version of what happened since you’re the only one still on your feet.”

  Barclay dropped back down on the webbed seat and fought to catch his breath as he was overwhelmed by emotions. “I’m guilty, when we were attacked all I could do was hide from them. Even after Lieutenant White gave me his 9mm, I stayed behind cover and never once fired a shot. If I had, he might not have a hole in his shoulder.” Conrad could see the man before him was going to lose it and didn’t want to mess with all the emotional baggage.

  “Tell me if this narrative is correct, Sergeant Barclay. The guardsman was acting as a sentry with one of your airmen. He opened fire, killing the other sentry, then turned his weapon on the rest of the work detail. That is when the other guardsman opened up as well, killing or wounding the rest of the detail except for you and the lieutenant. You took cover behind a pallet and began to perform self aid buddy care on the wounded airman. The Lieutenant then came to you and gave you his sidearm, telling you to cover him. He then charged the guardsmen and took one out before being hit. The other managed to keep you pinned down until a truck with more hostiles arrived. The truck was then destroyed by a new group of friendlies who took out the last shooter.”

  “No, no, Sir. The lieutenant, wounded as he was, still took out the last shooter before passing out from his wounds. I helped the new group load the ammo on the truck, then headed for the plane where we delivered the ammo.”

  Conrad smiled, the Staff Sergeant correcting his narrative was what he wanted, to make sure he wasn’t just saying yes to what he said.

  “Both men were taken to the hospital in town. I’m going there in an hour. If your boss will cut you free to accompany me, just meet me over at the security shack.” Conrad got up and jumped off the back of the aircraft as Barclay sat on the seat with his head in his hands and began to softly weep.

  The stench of disinfectants and deodorizers woke Caleb as he tried to breathe. He was covered in clean sheets in a hospital bed. There was a bag on a pole next to him, feeding him a drip through his arm. He felt no pain and was feeling mellow, if only he could get the window open and some fresh air in the room. He realized the lights were off but that didn’t stop him from seeing as well as if it were daytime. He climbed out of the bed and pulled back the curtains. The windows were not the type he could open. It looked like he was on the third floor with his window facing a small, sparsely tree covered hill. I’m back north in Douglas, I’m in the hospital downtown. Oh, crap we’re not alone!

  He went back to the bed, careful to drag his IV pole with him. He found the remote next to his pillow and pressed the call button and waited.

  “How are you doing this evening, Mr. White?” a long haired male nurse asked, “Since you’re up, would you like a pair of underwear and pajama bottoms to go with your gown?”

  Caleb tried to control an anger that was washing over him as he forced himself to be civil, especially when he saw he was totally exposed, and not happy about it. “I’m Lieutenant White, US Air Force. Yes, I’d like some clothes. How is the security for the hospital? I can feel the presence of at least three infected close by.” The nurse did an eye roll in the darkened room and it set Caleb off.

  “Don’t you roll your eyes at me! I survived the infection and can sense when they are nearby. Now move your ass and notify whatever security you have available,” Caleb walked over to the nurse until he was in his face, “That means now goddamn it!” The nurse could see the intensity in his eyes as well as the fact they were fully dilated, reminding him that the patient’s chart noted he’d been infected but considered low risk.

  Obviously the chart is wrong, he thought as he made his way out of the room, planning to alert security to help subdue the patient and restrain him to his bed. Caleb could sense the nurse was about to betray him. Carefully, he pulled out the needle going into his arm. A quick look around the room and he found his uniform in a trash bag in a drawer with his boots. Relief turned to anger when he found his shirt and undershirt had been cut off him. The pants had also been cut off, a quick look at his boots completed the inventory of destruction when he saw the laces had also been cut off. His shades were there in one piece and he slid them on. Screw this, I have to find those Zs before they turn someone.

  “Lieutenant White, I have something here that will take away some of your restlessness.” The nurse visibly cringed when he saw Caleb standing there, ready to leave his room.

  “Notify security they have three Zs on the grounds or somewhere in the hospital. Then get me some damn clothes. If you even suggest I get back in bed or to let you give me a shot, I’ll administer that shot to you. Now get on the horn to security!” Caleb walked with the nurse, who was now sweating, to the nurse’s station. The nurse picked up the phone, the same instant there was a buzz in the public address speakers, and then he spoke, “Attention please. We have a Code Gray at the third floor nurse’s station. Repeat, we have a Code Gray at the third floor nurse’s station.” He then backed away from Caleb, openly shaking.

  “Okay, asshole, you’ve had your Spartacus moment. Now get me some clothing, or I’m taking yours, in 3, 2” The nurse bolted down the h
allway, Caleb followed, not sure if he was trying to run from him or just taking him seriously. He opened a door and tried to pull it shut but Caleb grabbed it.

  “Here you go!” Almost sobbing, he threw a set of scrubs at Caleb.

  Caleb pulled up the pants then tore off the gown. He took a moment to look at the bandage, covering the front of his shoulder to the top. Lifting his arms to drop the scrub top down on him he had expected some pain or loss of movement. “Looks like whoever cut me open did a good job. No pain or stiffness. Now what have you got for me in the way of shoes? Your feet look too small.”

  Cursing, the nurse walked past him and into a small room that looked like it had been used for examinations. He opened a drawer labeled ‘junk’, and pulled out a roll of heavy string. “Best I can do for you. You can lace your boots.” A loud boom interrupted him as the stairwell door slammed open. A wiry young man in a security guard uniform holding a baton rushed down the hallway towards them. He was out of breath and already sweating profusely, his brown shirt appeared black under the arms.

  “What’s the problem here?” His attempt to sound official was lost as his words came out as gasps.

  “You need to alert the rest of the security force that there’s at least three Zs in close proximity.” The young man looked at Caleb in confusion.

  “Doc, you gave the wrong code, you were supposed to say ‘Code Zebra’ not ‘Code Gray’. I could have hurt this guy by mistake.”

  “You inbred idiot, it is a Code Gray! I need your help to get him back in bed and sedated. He threatened me!”

  “Get on your radio or whatever they gave you and pass the word there’s…Oh crap! They just got someone! Now move your ass, kid!” Caleb shouted.