Surviving Rage | Book 1

by Arellano, J. D.

  Their first step had been to verify that the lodge’s backup diesel generator was still functional. When they found it to be in good working order, he’d told his men to give him exactly two minutes before starting it. He’d returned to the lodge and gathered the workers (‘okay, some would call them prisoners’ he thought to himself) again, having them focus on him while he’d spoken about how he and he alone could take care of them. As he spoke, the power to the lodge came back, restoring a small sense of normalcy to their lives. It was a small thing, but he knew that people were used to having light available at the flip of a switch, to being able to turn on a fan when it got too hot, or being able to listen to music through the building’s audio system while they worked.

  As the workers began cleaning the lodge, Halwell had sent men to gather food and alcohol from the main grocery stores, bringing back load after load of goods and storing everything in the pantry area of the lodge’s kitchen after it had been cleared of the old, rotten food left behind.

  Their next step was to verify that the propane tank still had plenty of fuel, which meant that they’d actually be able to cook and, more importantly, stay warm when the winter months came. He’d chosen one of the workers to serve as a cook for the group, assigning one of the men to supervise the woman as she prepared their meals. Complaining about the sheer amount of men she had to serve, she successfully convinced Halwell to assign two other cooks and told Ricky to find someone to wash dishes after each meal.

  Understanding that they needed to drink more than just alcohol, the men had gathered all of the bottled water from the two grocery stores, as well as the water purification systems that were available. Halwell had chosen a trio of workers to purify 30 gallons of water daily, taking what the men gathered from the toilet tanks and water heaters of nearby homes and purifying it using the systems his men had provided.

  To ensure they had a sanitary method of disposing of their bodily waste, he’d designated a pair of bathrooms on each floor for the men to use, tasking a pair of workers with bringing waste water to the toilet tanks to ensure they remained full. It wasn’t much, but sitting on a good old fashioned toilet seat was certainly better than squatting in the woods.

  Of course, himself, Kyle, Diesel, and Luke were assigned suites, and with that they had the luxury of their own toilets which were cleaned twice daily.

  After the scuffle in the parking lot, he realized that he’d worked the men too hard, keeping them focused on the task of establishing the base and standing watches round the clock.

  He, of all people, should’ve known: men needed to blow off steam. The fight the morning before had proven that. The men were restless, anxious for action.

  Which is what they were enjoying now.

  “Look, Sheriff, more of them stupid bastards!!” Kyle called out from the driver’s seat, his voice filled with excitement. Like Halwell’s, the man’s face was covered in multiple days’ growth, giving him a decidedly scruffy look.

  Sheriff Halwell grinned at his long-time friend, then leaned partly out of the window, calling out to the men in the bed of the truck. “Fuck ‘em up, boys!”

  The sound of semi-automatic weapons filled the air as bullets left their weapons, flying through the thin mountain air before ripping through the bodies of the infected men and women that stumbled along the road. Blood flew from them in puffs of red mist as they were rocked backward, eventually crumpling to the ground in bloody heaps.

  From the back of the truck, the men laughed uproariously, passing a bottle of whiskey back and forth between them.

  Ricky leaned down and shouted through the open rear window. “Gawd dam that was fun! Find us some more, boss!”

  Halwell smiled, nodding. “Will do, bud.”

  Kyle grinned, turning the wheel of the truck and accelerating up the hill, toward the ski resort. Sure enough, fifty yards up the road another group of infected, two men and two women, were shuffling about, looking for prey. They turned at the sound of the truck rushing towards them, only to be slaughtered by the rapid fire of the men’s weapons.

  The men continued driving through town, hunting and killing any and all infected they encountered. In all, they sent thirty-seven infected men and women to their graves before they decided they’d had enough fun for the day.

  “Let’s hit up a liquor store, Kyle. I could use a drink.” Halwell ordered, smiling to himself as he leaned back in his seat, tilting his cowboy hat down over his eyes.

  “You got it, boss.” Kyle swung the big truck in a u-turn, accelerating out of the turn and picking up speed as he headed back down to Big Bear Boulevard, turning onto the wide street, wheels screeching on the rough surface of the street.

  Driving the truck down the street, he set his sights on the liquor store that stood on the corner of Moonridge and Big Bear Boulevard, knowing it was one of the few in the town that they hadn’t raided yet. He parked in front of the small building, barely coming to a stop before the men in the back jumped out and walked into the store. Engaging the parking brake, he followed Halwell out of the truck, heading towards the store’s entrance.

  Sheriff Halwell stopped, looking across the street. “Well, well, take a look at that.”

  Near the entrance to the drugstore, a thin dark haired girl snuck around a wrecked truck and headed for the entrance to the building.

  There was something familiar about the girl, but he couldn’t place it. Shaking his head, he turned to Kyle. “Go check that out for me, will ya?”

  His friend nodded. “Of course, Sheriff. Be right back. Grab me a bottle of Wild Turkey?”

  “Sure thing.”

  Kyle ran across the street, heading towards the entrance to the store. He’d grab the girl and drag her back. They could always use another worker to clean the shitters or take out the trash.

  CHAPTER FIFTY FIVE

  As Serrano led the team up Thayer Avenue, the sun continued its ascent, climbing in the sky. As it did, the temperatures rose with it as heat was trapped under the blanket of smoke that covered the city.

  The men drank frequently from their canteens as they made their way along the street, taking small sips in an effort to conserve the limited amount they carried, and Serrano made a mental note to look for the opportunity to refill their containers.

  Shortly after they left the Jessop family, the team encountered their first sighting of the carnage the infected left in their wake as they came upon what looked like a scene from a Quentin Tarantino film.

  Two cars, one red, one black, had rear-ended each other after the first one collided with a station wagon that appeared to have been attempting a u-turn. The doors of each car stood open, revealing torn and broken bodies within, along with evidence of others having been dragged from the vehicles. At the back of the second car, a man was leaning against the vehicle in a slumped seating position. His head was turned to the side, revealing a massive wound on the side of his neck. Blood had flowed out and down the front of him, leaving his shirt a mess of dried blood.

  Near the station wagon, a white woman remained inside, her legs hanging out of the car through the open door. Her body was lying awkwardly on her right side, her right eye open and staring straight ahead. The left side of her face was smashed in, and the blood and hair on the steering wheel showed that it had been used to inflict the damage.

  In the back seat, a man had been pulled partially out of the vehicle, his head, neck, and shoulders protruding through the broken window and slumping down towards the pavement, where a pool of dried blood had drained. He’d used every bit of strength he had in an effort to keep himself from being pulled through the window. In the end, his strength had been no match for that of his attackers, leaving his arms broken and bent, dislocated from their sockets.

  Close by, a young black woman had tried to climb a chain link fence, as evidenced by the parts of her clothing that still remained high on the barrier, gently flapping in the wind. She’d been thrown to the ground, landing awkwardly, her leg bent in an unna
tural angle, the bone showing through her torn jeans. Serrano guessed the impact had knocked her unconscious, since it appeared she’d made no attempt to defend herself. Her arms laid at her side, palms open and facing the sky, while her face and neck were a bloody mess of broken bones and cartilage.

  The Team stepped around the scene, staying clear of the blood and bits of flesh that were strewn about, mindful of the risks associated. Reed pulled his cell phone camera out and took pictures of the damage for research, using the zoom on the device to avoid getting close. It was the first time he’d seen the damage in person, having only seen pictures of the scenes when the outbreak had first occurred.

  In the presence of multiple dead bodies, he was reminded of the fact that pictures can never prepare a person for the reality of death. Aside from the powerful stench that came from the bodies, seeing the dead mere feet away, their souls having left their bodies, changes a person, reminding them how fragile life is.

  Putting his phone back in his pocket, he gave Serrano a slight nod, indicating he was ready to move on. The team marched forward, leaving the scene behind, their boots crunching on the broken glass that littered much of the sidewalk. A slight wind pushed paper, leaves, and other lightweight objects along the street, the only movement in the desolate streets.

  Nearing Wilshire Boulevard, the team heard fires burning nearby as windows shattered and support beams groaned under pressure, weakened by the blaze. To their left, in the direction of Doctor Roberts's condo, a pillar of smoke rose into the sky, feeding the dark cloud of ash that hung over the city.

  Serrano brought the team to a stop when they reached the corner of Wilshire and Thayer, guiding them into the shadow of the condominium tower that occupied the lot. The smell of the fire was strong as the wind carried the stench of burning wood, plastics, and fiberglass along its currents, traveling down the street as it navigated between the towers that lined Wilshire.

  Looking around the corner briefly, Serrano verified that the building burning wasn’t the one Doctor Roberts leased a condo in, but rather the one next to his location, which meant time was a factor. There was no telling if or when the fire would leap from one building to another, potentially trapping the team inside.

  With the noise of the fire providing enough noise to drown out their conversation, he turned to the men, speaking in a normal voice. “Alright. The fire is next to Roberts's building, which introduces a time constraint on the search, as well as an increased element of risk. We’ll cross Wilshire, then evaluate the building from up close.” He turned to Reed. “Not sure you’re going in Doc, so I’ll need you to think about what the team members should be looking for in Roberts's place.”

  Jonathan didn’t like the thought of not being involved in the search, but understood the point. “Okay.”

  Serrano nodded, then looked at the team. “Skee, J.J., take point left. Dash, Spider, take point right.” The men sprung into action, bringing their rifles up and moving forward in a half-crouching motion, which Reed had recently learned that the SEALs referred to as a ‘combat glide.’ They moved quickly and silently, somehow stepping over glass without so much as a sound as the took up positions behind abandoned vehicles, maintaining a watch down in either direction.

  Like Santa Monica Boulevard, Wilshire Boulevard was a mess, with abandoned cars and trucks littering the street, along with trash, packs and luggage left behind, and discarded bicycles. In distant spots in either direction, there were bodies in the street, unmoving save for the birds that rested upon them, picking at their bloated corpses.

  The men on point watched the street for several long minutes, looking for signs of movement. Aside from the birds and a pack of dogs further down the street, passing by, occasionally stopping to check trash and other discarded items, the street was quiet.

  Once he received the signal that the way was clear from each pair, Serrano hurriedly led Reed across the street, stopping under a copse of trees in front of a modern office building. They held their place in the shadows until the four SEALs rejoined them, then walked along the front of the building towards the corner of Wilshire and Westholme, where Roberts's condo was located.

  At the corner, across from the condo, they paused, drinking from their canteens as they evaluated the building. An eight-foot high wall encircled the property, with a large wrought iron gate guarding the entrance to the courtyard in front of the building. The gate and wall were still intact, but beyond that it became apparent that violence had made its way into the building. Near the entrance, the tall glass doors that provided the residents with a grand entry had been shattered, leaving a large pile of glass in the entryway. There was blood on the steps leading into the building, a wide swath that looked as if someone or something had been dragged along the path while their life poured out of them. Looking up the sides of the building, they saw that a large number of windows had been broken, the blinds or drapes inside flapping in the wind. Around the base of the building, numerous bodies laid in piles, broken from the fall they’d taken in their attempts to escape whatever horrors had threatened them in their homes.

  Needing a closer look, Skee, JJ, and Spider slowly scanned the ground level and first five floors, while Serrano and Kim used binoculars to look at the higher floors, moving the field glasses slowly from left to right as they guided the field of view upward.

  While they looked on, Reed sat on the edge of a raised flower bed, reviewing the items he’d need one of the SEALs to look for if he didn’t go with them.

  Lowering his binoculars, Serrano put his hands on his hips, still staring at the building. The prospect of entering the building wasn’t a good one. Being closer to the fire that burned in the adjacent building, the noise level was high, making it difficult for them to hear each other, so he raised his voice as he spoke to Jonathan.

  “What’s the likelihood that Roberts is there?”

  Reed thought about it. It was low, especially with the fire next door. Then again, he didn’t know much about the Doctor’s personality, so he didn’t know his tendencies. The man could be hiding, afraid to go out, especially if the infected had been attacking his neighbors.

  “Maybe ten, fifteen percent.”

  “Shit.” Serrano looked back at the building, then at the fire raging next door. Time was not on their side. He turned to the team, pointed to the headset he was wearing and waited for the team to turn theirs on. Once everyone was online, he began. “Alright. We’re moving to the front of the building entrance to maintain clear comms.” The team moved out together, moving in a slow, purposeful manner, still maintaining vigilance as they crossed Westholme, continuing until they were at the overhang in front of the entrance.

  Serrano tapped his mic, turning it on. “Doc is staying on the street with me.” He pointed at each member of the team as he handed out assignments. “Skee, you’ll take point West. J.J., point East.

  “Dash, Spider, you’re to enter the building and head to the eighth floor to the Doctor’s condo. He’s in 823, on this side of the building.

  “You guys maintain comms at all times. I expect a check-in every twenty minutes. If you can’t speak, two clicks to let us know you’re there, encountered trouble and will continue. Two clicks followed by another two clicks tells us you ran into trouble and will be coming out ASAP.”

  He turned to Skee and J.J. “You guys let me know ASAP if you see something. If they’re inbound, we’ll take cover and wait it out. Otherwise, keep watch until you hear from me, Alright?”

  The men nodded, signally their understanding and agreement.

  “Doc, I want you right here, under the canopy, out of sight. I’ll be close, but I need to move so I can have a clear view of this building.” Serrano pointed his thumb towards the adjacent building, which was still burning. “If I see the fire jump to this building at a point BELOW the eighth floor, the mission’s over. I’m calling the guys out and we move on. If the fire jumps to a point ABOVE the eighth, I’ll give you a heads up and start a twenty minute
timer.”

  Dash and Spider nodded, giving Serrano a thumbs up. Kim looked at Reed. “What are we looking for besides the doctor?”

  ”Assuming he’s not there, grab any portable computing items he may have: laptop, thumb drives, external hard drives, etc. Aside from that, if hand written notes are on the top of a desk, grab ‘em. You can check the drawers, but in this situation, if he was working on finding a solution, he wouldn’t bother putting stuff away.”

  “Got it.” Dash looked back at Serrano. “Ready, boss.”

  Serrano stepped back, looking up at Doctor Roberts's building again, exhaling. Shaking his head, he looked back at the Team and Doctor Reed. “Any questions?” Hearing none, he followed with, “Alright, let’s move out.”

  Skee and J.J. headed in their respective directions, heading towards different spots in the street on either side of where Serrano and Jonathan were, while Dash and Spider headed toward the building. Stopping near the large wrought iron gate, the two evaluated it, speaking amongst themselves as they did. Reed couldn’t see how they’d climb the gate, which was eight feet in height where it met the wall but curved up to nine in the center. With its tightly designed ivy pattern, offered little in the way of footholds, either.

  As he watched, Spider slid his rifle around to his back, tightening the strap to hold it in place. Taking a few steps back, he looked to Dash and said something, smiling. Dash shook his head and made a rotating motion with his finger, indicating the thinner man should get on with whatever he was going to do.

  Spider took a breath, then burst forward, taking three long strides before leaping up towards the edge of the wall where it met the gate. His hands barely touched the surface of the wall as his feet moved, his right pushing off the wall, his left pushing off the fence. In less than a second his hands had a firm grasp of the top of the wall. Using his upper body strength, he pulled himself up onto the top of the wall. He paused there, looking back down at Dash, putting his arms out wide in a triumphant manner.