Recovery: V Plague Book 8

by Dirk Patton

  “I didn’t say it was a good idea,” I grinned sheepishly.

  The roads stayed clear and straight and I was able to keep our speed up. As I drove I turned over half a dozen different ideas, finally settling on calling Admiral Packard and begging for transit on a Navy ship. That probably wasn’t the best idea, either, and I knew I’d have to come up with something better. I didn’t see the Admiral, or Colonel Crawford for that matter, agreeing to let me sail off into the sunset.

  “Babies,” Katie said after another long stretch of silence.

  “What?”

  “That’s what we’re going to do when we get there,” she said. “Have babies.”

  “Babies? Plural? How many?” I asked.

  “How many times do you think you can knock me up?” Katie laughed.

  “In this world?” I asked, still not convinced.

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “If people had stopped having babies every time things were bad in the world there probably wouldn’t be a human race. What we need now are babies. It’s a big world and there’s not a lot of people left.”

  “I’ll be a shitty dad,” I said.

  “Really? Why?” She wasn’t going to take no for an answer. “Afraid you can’t teach them to shoot and fight?”

  I didn’t have a good answer to that.

  “And,” she turned and ruffled Dog’s ears with both hands. “There’s got to be a female German Shepherd left somewhere in the world we can hook up with the big boy here. We need lots of Dogs, too.”

  50

  The weather held off and we quickly covered the distance to Twin Falls. Katie dialed Jessica as we were reaching the edge of town and she talked us in to the Jeep dealer. It was a surprisingly big place for a town no larger than the one it was located in, but I wasn’t complaining. We passed a couple of males stumbling around when we exited the freeway, but fortunately didn’t see any females.

  The edge of the lot that faced the street we arrived on was parked full of new vehicles. They were dirtier than I’d ever seen on a dealer lot, but then there hadn’t been anyone to wash them for some time. Swinging in to the entrance the headlights swept across the large, glass walled showroom and I saw two males and a female pressed against the windows.

  The female watched us intently as we turned in. Before parking I circled the large area, driving around behind the service department and body shop before coming back to park in front of the showroom. No other infected in the immediate area.

  “How long?” I asked Katie, referring to the ETA for the leading edge of the herd.

  “Less than an hour,” she said without having to check her figures. “We’re OK if we don’t get hung up haggling with a salesman.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” I grinned, holding up my rifle.

  We stepped out and I headed straight for the row of Jeep Wranglers. Like many dealers these days, this one had taken a few of the new vehicles and added on a lot of aftermarket parts that they then marked up about two hundred percent. There was a pair of four door Wranglers that had been lifted and outfitted for serious off-road travel, to include a rack on the back that held spare fuel and water jugs.

  Noting the inventory code on each so I could more easily find the keys, I hoped, we headed for the showroom. The infected stood there watching us through the glass as we approached. Well, the female was watching us, but the males had probably heard the sound of the Dodge. They pounded on the thick glass but she just stood there and tracked us with her eyes.

  “I’m not in the mood to play around,” I said, opening the Charger’s trunk.

  Lifting the grenade launcher I loaded a high explosive round into the first chamber. Turning I aimed at the glass and pulled the trigger. The HE grenade blew out the large panel and two on either side of it, a shower of shattered safety glass raining down all around us. Dog shook to clear the glittering chunks out of his fur.

  The two males had been standing directly in front of the point of detonation and both had been killed instantly. Standing a few yards to the side, the female had been injured but was still on her feet, limping towards us. Katie put her down with a head shot from her rifle.

  “Get it out of your system? Feel better?” She asked.

  I nodded, smiling and heading for the showroom. High explosives do have a way of helping one exorcise his demons. Katie put Dog in the car so he didn’t walk on the glass and cut his feet then ran to catch up with me.

  It took some searching but we found both sets of keys hanging on a pegboard in the sales manager’s office. Back in the lot we let Dog out and checked over the two Jeeps. Other than color I couldn’t tell any difference between them. Each was lifted several inches and tall mud tires had been installed. The deciding factor was when I walked around and saw the winch mounted on the red one’s front bumper.

  Where we were going there were decent odds we’d need it. Climbing behind the wheel I started it up and pulled over next to the Charger. It took a few minutes to transfer all of our supplies, weapons and spare ammo, but soon we were ready to go. Dog seemed to like the elevated back seat, sitting tall and staring out the large windshield.

  Driving off the lot I went less than a block before pulling in to a gas station. Katie shot three males that had been attracted by the sound of our engine while I topped off the Jeep’s tank and filled the two, five-gallon jugs mounted to the back. Fueling complete we headed out, Katie reading directions that Jessica had texted to the sat phone.

  We quickly left Twin Falls behind, heading north on State Highway 75. The Jeep drove much like my truck and I drove as fast as I was comfortable pushing the vehicle. Other than being top heavy, the mud tires were only rated for a max speed of 90 miles per hour. Even though they were brand new I didn’t feel like tempting fate and having a tire suddenly come apart, so I stayed under 95.

  After the Charger’s high performance Hemi, the Jeep felt absolutely asthmatic. The six-cylinder engine made a lot of noise when I stepped on the gas, but all that sound didn’t translate into much power. Kind of like the guy at the bar that can’t shut up about how big or tough he is. Until someone who really is tough comes along.

  We had to cover just over 100 miles, the highway winding up into the Sawtooth Wilderness where we would then take a Forest Service road that would probably be nothing more than a rough dirt track cut into the ground. From there I was going to have to depend on Jessica to talk us in to where she was watching either Rachel or the pilot on thermal.

  It was pitch black, apparently a thick overcast blocking the moon. The Jeep was outfitted with a long LED light bar and it lit the road for at least two hundred yards to our front. The terrain began climbing only a few miles north of Twin Falls and soon we were back in the snow. Only a few flakes at first, but steadily growing in intensity as we gained altitude.

  The pavement changed from dry to slushy to snow covered in just a few miles and I was forced to reduce speed. The big tires were providing good traction, but even I wasn’t crazy enough to drive over 90 miles per hour on a snow covered mountain road. We pushed on, Katie adjusting the heater as the outside temperature continued to drop.

  “You’re quiet,” I said after twenty miles of silence from her.

  “I’m worried about what kind of shape Rachel will be in when we find her,” she said, pointing at the thermometer display. It said it was 27 degrees outside.

  “You sound confident it will be Rachel and not the pilot that survived.”

  “I have to be,” Katie said. “I wouldn’t leave the pilot out there, but we haven’t busted ass to get here for him. This can’t have all been for nothing. Well, not that he’s nothing, but…”

  “I get what you’re saying,” I said, letting her off the hook she’d stuck herself on. “I’m just not letting myself think about it.”

  “So, is that Air Force Sergeant single? The one with the cast on his arm?” She changed the subject.

  “Scott? I have no idea. Why?”

  “I was thinking Rachel
needs someone,” Katie said. “Babies, remember?”

  “Jesus,” I said. “Didn’t you learn your lesson about matchmaking with the mess you made last year? You set a lesbian up with a man!”

  “How was I supposed to know Kendra was gay?” She asked, innocently.

  “Maybe because we never saw her with a man? Maybe her propositioning you every time she had too much to drink? Maybe her kissing you at the Christmas party when you both got really drunk? But you were CIA. I can see how little clues like that could slip past you.” I smiled, but got punched anyway.

  “At least I made up for it. She’s really happy with Trisha…” her voice fell. “I guess they’re probably not very happy anymore, are they? If they’re still alive.”

  I reached across and took her hand in mine as a tear rolled down her cheek.

  51

  The farther we pushed north on the small highway the more we climbed. With altitude came colder weather and more snow. We passed through Ketchum, a tiny town with a large ski resort, at 0600. There was just a hint of light on the eastern horizon but still not enough to see anything that wasn’t in range of the Jeep’s lights.

  I couldn’t see them but I suspected there were some large ski chalets built into the slopes that overlooked the town. I’m not a skier, so didn’t pay attention to the “destination” ski towns, but for some reason I seemed to remember that Ketchum was an up and coming place. Not that this mattered to us now, though we were going to need to hole up and rest for a while once we found Rachel.

  A small group of females began pursuing us in town. The snow was nearly a foot deep on the road and they could barely move faster than a swift walk. I had shifted into four-wheel drive some time ago and the Jeep churned along without any difficulty.

  The road grew steeper as we continued on, narrowing as it clung to the side of a mountain. I didn’t see how two vehicles would have ever met and passed each other, even without the snow making for difficult driving. The highway continued until it was no more than a narrow track and I wasn’t sure there was pavement under the snow. We kept passing small signs with three digit numbers on them and I realized these were other Forest Roads cut into the mountains by the Forest Service.

  “Call Jessica,” I said to Katie, who had already paired the satellite phone with the Jeep. “I want to make sure we aren’t driving right past a road that we need to take.”

  “Hi, sir. I’ve got you on thermal,” Jessica said as soon as she picked up.

  “Good. I’ve been passing a lot of Forest Roads and wanted to make sure I’m on the right track.”

  “Keep going. Within a mile you’re going to reach a whole bunch of switchbacks. They will take you over a mountain and when you come out of those, cross the valley and climb the next mountain. At the top, turn left onto Road 205. Sixteen point three miles after that you stop.

  “You’ll be on the north side of a ridge. You’re on foot from there. Up and over the ridge, then four miles straight down to the lake. If you go due south from where you stop, you’ll find the target on the lakeshore.”

  “How can you see all this with the cloud cover?” I asked, checking to make sure Katie had written it all down.

  “Naval Intelligence has just about every digital map ever made of every place on the planet. I overlaid a Forest Service map on top of the real time image.” She said, sounding satisfied with herself.

  “Good thinking,” I said. “What’s the status of the target?”

  “Still stationary, sir. The fire is burning hot enough for me to clearly see on thermal and the target fades in and out depending on the density and moisture content of the overcast, but no change. By the way, you’re easy to spot because of your vehicle’s engine heat. I may lose you when you start walking.”

  “Any update on the Bradley?”

  “Negative, sir. I’m still working on the archive and my CO brought in some help. I’ll let you know as soon as I can determine anything.” She said.

  I thanked her and ended the call. Just as she’d said, we entered a long series of switchbacks soon after I finished speaking with her. The road was steep and narrow, the snow deep and the curves were hairpin sharp. The Jeep negotiated all of them with only a couple of butt clenching moments when the tires slipped on a particularly steep grade.

  “Should we be worried about avalanches?” Katie leaned into me and looked out my side window at the side of the steep mountain we were climbing.

  “You can worry, but there’s not a damn thing we can do about it.”

  She nodded and settled back into her seat, but every few minutes I noticed her casting a look to our left. It was slowly getting lighter and we began to see details of the area beyond the reach of the light bar. Snow was still falling but not as heavy. The terrain was breathtakingly rugged and beautiful, especially with a pristine blanket of white covering everything.

  The going was slow and especially tedious when we dropped down into the next valley. Four wheel drives are great for giving you enough traction to go, however they don’t slow or stop one bit better than any other vehicle on the planet. You’re still at the mercy of the ability of your tires to grip the driving surface when you apply the brakes.

  White knuckling the ride down, I breathed a sigh of relief when we began climbing again. The farther back into the wilderness we went, the deeper the snow became. Looking out the side window I watched as the Jeep’s running boards passed over the surface with no more than a couple of inches to spare. If we hadn’t taken a lifted four-wheel drive, the front bumper would be below the level of the snow and we wouldn’t be going anywhere. As it was, if it got much deeper we were going to have a problem.

  I pushed on, climbing up out of the valley and at the top of the next mountain was Forest Road 205, exactly where Jessica had said it would be. I made the turn and drove into a canyon of tall pine trees that pressed in on each side.

  “Sixteen point three. Set your trip odometer,” Katie reminded me.

  I pushed the button to zero out the counter, grinning a thank you at her. I was glad one of us remembered.

  “Don’t suppose you grabbed snow shoes when we were in the store,” I said.

  “Not snow shoes, but they had these things that are made of plastic and look like someone spilled a bucket of paint that congealed after spreading out. They strap onto your boots for walking in snow. They’re made for skiers going short distances and I didn’t have time to look for snow shoes.”

  “At least we’ve got those,” I said. “Walking in that is going to be a bitch.”

  “It’s not near as bad under the trees,” Katie pointed.

  I looked and she was right. There was enough light now for me to see a short distance into the forest and I was surprised how much less snow was on the ground there compared to the road. Looking up, I saw the reason. All of the branches were heavily loaded, having collected much of the snow that fell.

  The road was rough and I had difficulty maintaining even ten miles per hour. The snow concealed rocks, ruts, holes, tree stumps and God knows what else. It seemed I managed to find every single one of them. I wanted to push faster but I knew from a lot of off-road experience that going fast only breaks vehicles.

  Finally the trip odometer rolled over to 16 as we were climbing a steep slope. The trees were just as thick, perhaps even thicker. The ground under them looked to have about a foot of snow, but it could have been less. Trying to guess from a moving vehicle is about impossible.

  At 16.3 on the display I came to a stop and looked to the south. The ground swept up, away from the road. That would be the way to the ridgeline Jessica had told us about. It was too far away to see, but I had no doubt it was there.

  Katie had pulled on a parka at the truck stop, but other than that neither of us had put on any of the winter gear. Shutting down the engine I stepped out, sinking to my knees in the snow. I pulled the back door open and Dog jumped down, most of him disappearing. Only the top of his head, back and tail were visible.


  “Land shark,” Katie said, looking at him from the back of the Jeep.

  Chuckling, I fought my way to the rear hatch. Katie had crawled over the seats, staying inside. I dumped the large bags and she helped me sort out the gear. Happy with what I was finding I was momentarily confused when there were obviously three sets of winter clothing.

  “Rachel’s going to need them,” she said, reading the expression on my face.

  I gave her a smile and began removing weapons from my body so I could change. In hindsight we should have done this somewhere that was a little more comfortable than knee deep in snow in the midst of a forest, but I’d been in a hurry.

  Ten minutes later both of us had stripped, donned the synthetic long underwear and layered moisture wicking clothing over it before covering everything with white snowsuits. While we changed, Dog had made his way to the trees, breaking free from the snow. He ran around, bounding from one clear patch to another, sniffing and peeing on every tree he came to. Where the hell he stored that much urine was beyond me.

  Dressed, I rearmed myself, pulling the vest on over the snowsuit. Filling it with loaded magazines I strapped the thigh holster back in place, fighting with the adjustment to compensate for the thick clothing. Next I brought out an extra rifle and slung it down the middle of my back, wrapping the bandolier of grenades over it.

  My own rifle, then the grenade launcher and I was ready. I checked Katie over quickly. She had her rifle, a good supply of loaded mags and a full pack on her back. She carried our food, water and the cold weather gear she’d brought for Rachel.

  Before we set out I used my Ka-Bar to slice the fingertips off my right glove, then did the same for Katie. It’s difficult at best to operate and fire a weapon while wearing winter gloves. Pulling mine on, I flexed my hand and gripped the rifle then drew the pistol to check. All felt good.

  The substitutes for snowshoes that Katie had found were called Glops. They were made of heavy, purple plastic about an inch thick and oval. Maybe fifteen or sixteen inches on the long side, the top had an impression for boot soles to fit in, a row of clamps ringing it that would snap onto the edge of the boot and secure the device in place. The bottom was a series of rough, irregular ridges designed to give traction in the snow.