by Damon Hunter
“I don’t think they posted a sign or anything,” Katelin told him as she handed them over.
“Yeah, but if those two haven’t been blown up yet, getting to them ought to work,” Bo said. He handed the binoculars to Donna, who looked through and saw the two men about a hundred yards away, looking back at them through their own binoculars.
“Yeah, I would say they mark the safe zone. Problem is, they could be the ones who shot us down,” Donna said.
“They left us the sniper rifle. I could take it and drop them,” Katelin said. “Dead bodies would mark the spot just as well as live ones, better actually. They aren’t going to decide to leave if they’re dead.”
“No,” Donna told her daughter. “We don’t know they shot us down. I think it’s safe to say they aren’t infected. We can’t just kill them.”
“Technically we could,” Katelin said.
“When we get out of this you are going to need some counseling,” Donna told her daughter. “Murder is not a viable option. Ever.”
“Team human,” Gavin said.
Katelin nodded. “Yeah, I guess the kid has a point.”
Donna considered telling Katelin she had said pretty much the same thing, but decided they had more important things to worry about. “So, do we just take a chance? Who goes first?”
“Kate for sure,” Bo said. “If they are looking for trouble, she has the guns and the ability to use them.”
Katelin picked up the transponder. “Who’s going with me?”
“Wait,” Jennifer said. “Once the transponder is out of the helicopter, won’t some drone blow it up?”
Katelin put down the transponder. “Maybe if you aren’t moving, they will pass you by.”
“Maybe,” Bo said, “but maybe not. They blew up Reg and he was just walking around. They may do it by heat signature.”
“So anything living bigger than a pet gets blown to shit?” Katelin asked.
“Language,” Donna told her, and then said, “That would be my guess.”
“Does that mean they wouldn’t blow up a baby?” Cletus asked.
“No idea,” Donna replied.
“We don’t have a baby, so does it matter?” Katelin said.
“I’m small,” Gavin said. “Maybe I can make it.”
“Or maybe not,” Bo told him. “So stay put.”
“So, we’re fucked,” Jennifer said. She looked at Donna and said, “Sorry, language.”
“You’re not my daughter, say what you want,” Donna replied.
“Yeah, well you’re the closest thing I’ve got to a mother right now, so the apology stands.”
Bo picked up the metal transponder, which was about the size of a lunch plate, and looked at it for a few long seconds before saying, “It has to cover a certain distance, right? It’s not like we have to be touching it for it to protect you. This protected the TMRT transport, which was like the size of a motor home. The transponder was in the front. If the signal didn’t cover a certain distance, then a drone might put a missile into the back of the transport when it read the heat signatures of the soldiers inside.”
“He may have a point,” Katelin said. “Reg didn’t get blown up until he moved away from us.”
“Or he didn’t get blown up until a drone passed overhead,” Donna replied.
“Too bad all the guys who might know got off in Escondido,” Jennifer added.
Donna retrieved her phone, saying, “I could ask,” but upon looking at her phone she shook her head and said, “No service.”
Everyone checked their own phones and found the same lack of service.
“Figures we would go down in the middle of nowhere,” Bo said.
“At some point we are going to need to try,” Katelin said. “We can’t stay here forever. We don’t have any supplies. No one is going to build a cell phone tower to let us call for advice.”
“I guess you’re right,” Donna said.
“So what are we waiting for?”
Chapter 7
Palomar Medical Center 14th Floor - Escondido, CA
“I guess they don’t have Scooby Doo cartoons in Korea or China or wherever Fan is from,” Ben said as he and Vance moved down the hallway.
“Why do you say that?”
“Splitting up always turns out badly for somebody.”
“Yeah, I guess it does. You have a better idea?”
“No. I could go for a scooby snack, though.”
Vance pointed at one of the doors. Unlike the other doors they had seen walking the hallway, this one did not have a name on it. “Could be storage.”
“Only one way to find out,” Ben said. He waited until Vance was poised with the Sick Slaying Stick and ready to strike anything infected waiting on the other side before turning the knob.
“Locked,” Ben said.
Vance depressed the spikes and smashed the ball end into the door just below the handle. The area around the lock caved in and without the lock to hold it, the door slowly swung open.
“They teach you how to do that in the TMRT?” Ben asked after nothing jumped out at them.
“Yeah,” Vance said as he unleashed the spikes on the ball before he limped inside.
They were both disappointed to see they were in a break room instead of storage. All that was inside were a couple tables, chairs, and a pair of vending machines.
Ben walked up to one of the machines and said, “You want anything?”
“I’m good,” Vance said.
Ben used the stock of his rifle to bust in the glass and grabbed himself a bag of Cheetos, saying “You sure?”
Before Vance could answer, there was a voice coming from underneath one of the tables saying, “Thank God you’re here.”
They both turned as a plump woman in a business suit crawled awkwardly out from under the table on the far side of the room. She didn’t look infected, and other than vampire rotter Tanner they had not heard one talk, so they were confident she did not have the rot.
She pointed at Vance’s uniform and said, “You’re here to rescue us, right?”
“Not exactly,” Ben said as he took a handful of Cheetos and stuffed them in his mouth. Standing there shirtless with his long hair and tattoos, he looked nothing like a soldier.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“He’s with me,” Vance said.
“So, you’re not here to rescue people stranded when the checkpoint went down?”
“No,” Vance said. “It doesn’t mean we can’t help you, but first we need your help.”
“What do you need?”
“Do you know where they store fuel for the helicopter?”
“They refuel at the airport.”
“Is there an emergency reserve? Somewhere on sight in case things go horribly wrong?” Vance asked her.
“You mean like the city being overrun with an infection like the rot?”
“Exactly,” Ben said.
“If there is any fuel on site, it is in the pilot’s office. They have a supply locker of some sort in there. I don’t know what’s in it.”
“Can you show us where it is?” Vance asked.
“Of course. Is it safe out there?”
Vance shrugged. “So far it is. Safe or not, without some fuel we aren’t going anywhere.”
“It’s just down at the end of the hall. Do you guys have names?”
“Call me Vance.”
“I’m Ben.”
“I’m Angela, follow me,” she said as she went into the hall.
“You said ‘rescue us’,” Vance asked as they moved down the hallway. “Are there others up here?”
“I don’t know. There were six of us hiding in the break room when the hospital was overrun. I’m afraid there is nothing but infected on the floors below. The other five left the break room. I think they were headed for the roof to try and signal for help. I was too scared to leave. I don’t know what happened to them after that.”
Vance did not like the sound of that
. There was no one on the roof. Unless the five changed their minds, it could mean this floor had some infected lurking around.
They made their way to the pilot’s office without incident. Unlike the break room, the pilot’s office was unlocked. Again Ben opened it while Vance stood at the ready. When nothing came at them, they went inside.
Vance found the storage locker, which was less a locker and more a small metal room in the corner of the pilot’s spacious office. Like the office itself, the locker was open. While there were tools, jackets, and even a flare gun, there was no fuel.
Ben pointed at the floor of the locker in a space with nothing in it and said, “Check out the pattern in the dust. I would guess a couple of good-sized gas cans were sitting there not too long ago.”
Vance nodded. “I agree.” He looked at Angela and asked, “Is there anywhere else they might store a fuel reserve?”
“Not that I know of. I would be surprised if they did.”
“Well, whoever took them didn’t put them in the chopper,” Ben said. “Maybe they are still around.”
“Unless they had another chopper,” Vance said.
“It’s too bad Mr. Clarkson left,” Angela said. “He would have known, he was an in-flight paramedic.”
“Could he fly the chopper?”
“He wasn’t a pilot at the hospital, but I have a feeling he knew something about it. He and I were not close. I suppose at the very least he paid attention during the flights. He and the other EMTs on the flight crew had their own office just next door.”
“Good a place as any to start,” Ben said.
They made their way to the next office and found it unlocked as well. Nothing jumped out at them and they went inside.
The desk at the corner of the room was covered in blood.
“Oh my,” Angela said.
“Something went down in here,” Ben said.
As Vance made it further into the room, he spotted a chrome hand saw covered in blood and gore sitting in the chair by the bloody desk. He pointed it out to the other two.
“I’m just in payroll, but I’m pretty sure that is a bone saw,” Angela said.
Vance got closer. There was a small plastic trash can next to the desk. Vance looked inside and saw a man’s arm cut off just in front of the elbow. He leaned over for a closer look and could see two sets of teeth marks just below the wrist.
“Someone cut off his arm to try to stop the spread of the infection,” Vance told them.
“Does that work?” Ben asked.
“No,” Vance replied. “Judging from the bite mark, I would say he was attacked by a vampire rotter.”
“Great,” Ben said. “We have at least two of them around and one is the vampire type.”
“Looks that way,” Vance said.
“Is that Mr. Clark’s arm?” Angela asked.
“No idea,” Vance said. As he moved away from the trash can, he saw something under the desk. He moved to take a closer look and spotted two ten-gallon heavy duty metal gas containers.
“Looks like we hit the jackpot,” Vance said as he set down the Sick Slaying Stick and pulled one of the cans out from under the desk. “Feels full.”
“Let me get that,” Ben said. “It’s what you brought me for.”
Ben was grabbing the two cans when they heard a voice in the hallway say, “Angela, come to me.”
“I think that sounds like my friend Dave,” Angela said.
The gravel in the voice along with the choice of words reminded Vance of Katelin’s description of her encounter with Tanner Rutherford’s vampire rotter father and later Tanner himself when he was infected.
“Wait,” he said to Angela, but she was already out the door.
For a moment, Vance forgot how messed up his leg was. He put too much weight on the wounded leg and stumbled to the floor.
Ben had heard the stories of the talking vampire rotter and heard a bit of it himself back at Cam Carson’s compound. He grabbed Vance’s Sick Slaying Stick as he went by, wanting to avoid using his gun, since a single gunshot would bring every infected within earshot their way.
He entered the hall just in time to see a tall guy dressed like a janitor sink his rotting teeth into Angela’s face. His grey shirt was covered in fresh and dry blood but the name tag showing the name Dave was still visible. Angela was right about the voice. Dave spit out a mouthful of Angela’s cheek and tossed her aside before he turned his attention to Ben.
Ben used the Sick Slaying Stick like a spear and stabbed the vampire rotter through the face as he got ready to leap at him. He was aiming for the neck, but vampire rotter Dave was going into a crouch when Ben thrust the Sick Slaying Stick forward. Taking a blade through the face just seemed to make Dave mad. Ben tried to pull the SSS free so he could stab Dave again, but the vampire rotter grabbed the staff and kept him from pulling it free.
Ben yanked as hard as his could, but vampire rotter Dave was too strong. An elongated arm shot out and got a handful of Ben’s hair. Ben kicked it in the groin as it tried to pull him forward, but it had no effect. Instead of trying to pull the SSS free, Ben pushed instead, giving it all he had to keep the rotter from pulling him closer to its snapping jaws.
He had it at a stalemate, but as he was holding it back, he saw Angela rise to her feet. Sores were rapidly growing and then bursting all over her body. Her yellow eyes locked onto him and she started moving his way.
Ben was able to push the vampire rotter into Angela’s path. Thankfully, she had turned ambler instead of vampire rotter and just having something in the way was enough to deter her for the moment.
The vampire rotter let go of the Sick Slaying Stick as Angela reached around him, trying to get her hands on Ben. For a second Ben thought this was going to be to his advantage as he pulled the blade free, but the vampire rotter grabbed the stick again and lifted. Ben hung on as his feet left the floor. In the air hanging onto the SSS, Ben had no leverage to stop the rotter from bashing him against the wall.
Ben hung on the first three times it smashed him into the wall, but the fourth had him lose his grip and fall to the floor.
The vampire rotter tossed the Sick Slaying Stick aside. Ben was on his ass trying to shuffle backwards when it reached down and grabbed him by the leg. Ben saw the two rows of rotting, jagged teeth as the rotter opened his massive jaw. Before it could bite him, though, a knife flew through the air and stuck the vampire rotter in his other eye. It still didn’t die, but it did let go of Ben’s leg. Ben kicked up into vampire rotter Dave’s chest and knocked the blind rotter into Angela. Their legs tangled and they both went down.
Ben looked back to see it was Vance who had thrown the knife. The former TMRT soldier limped past him and picked up the Sick Slaying Stick.
The blind vampire rotter had risen to his feet and was trying to pull the knife out of its face when Vance brought the spiked ball end down on the top of its head hard enough to spray the walls with brains.
The infected version of Angela was halfway up when Vance spun the SSS and put the blade side through the top of her head. Vance yanked it free and then turned to Ben.
“Are you bit?” Vance asked as he freed his knife from the vampire rotter’s face and wiped the blood off on the janitor’s uniform the rotter was wearing.
“No,” Ben said as he slowly managed to get to his feet.
“Are you okay otherwise?”
“I don’t think anything is broken.”
Vance nodded and leaned against the wall. “Next time let me go.”
“I’ll admit my Sick Slaying Stick work needs some work, especially compared to you, but with your leg, there was no way you would have gotten there in time.”
Vance pointed at Angela’s corpse lying in a growing pool of her own blood. “Neither did you.”
Ben nodded—he couldn’t argue that point—before saying, “I’ll get the fuel.”
Vance waited in the hall while Ben retrieved the fuel cans.
“Should we find the
other two?” Ben asked.
Vance took the two way radio off his belt and said, “I’ll tell them to meet us at the chopper.”
Into the radio, Vance said, “We’ve got it. Meet you on the roof.”
No one answered. Vance tried again and got the same result.
“I’ll try again when we get to the roof,” Vance said, fearing the worst.
They started back. Vance’s leg had gotten bad enough that he was using the Sick Slaying Stick as a crutch.
“Go on ahead if you want,” Vance told Ben. “I’ll catch up while you are fueling up the chopper.”
“That seems like a bad idea.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“After our last encounter, I was thinking I need you to protect me. Thanks, by the way.”
“You would have done the same for me.”
“Maybe. I did have to watch you kill my brother.”
“Would you have rather he infected you? Then I would have had to kill you both.”
“I get that, you don’t have to explain it. It was still hard to see. You know, most people would just say ‘sorry’.”
“Sorry,” Vance told him.
“You killed my dad, too.”
“Sorry about that, too.”
Ben nodded.
“Anything else you want me to apologize for?”
“Not that I can think of.”
They turned the corner and found themselves facing a man dressed as an EMT pointing a shotgun at them.
“Where do you think you assholes are going with my chopper fuel?” he asked.
“Look,” Vance told him, “there is no reason we can’t share the chopper.”
“Yeah, there is. It’s my chopper and my fuel. I’m not in a sharing mood.”
“Yeah, well I’m not in a ‘take shit from assholes’ mood,” Ben said. “You do know if you fire that thing, every infected within earshot is going to be coming down on us?”
The man did not answer, but he didn’t lower the gun.
He was wearing a blue flight suit and Vance could see the patch on his chest with his name.
“You’re Carter.”
“Yeah, so?”
“You have two arms,” Ben said.
“Of course I do. Why would you ask me that?”
“Last guy to have these cans didn’t.”
