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Operation Z-Day (The Raven Falconer Chronicles)

Page 11

by Larsen, Dennis


  “Listen, the stores are empty and the gas pumps were sucked dry days ago. If you need fuel, there are plenty of abandoned cars -- cut a section of garden hose and siphon what you need. Just don’t get shot in the process.”

  “Thanks for the advice,” Mick said. “Anything else we should be aware of?”

  “Yes, lots but I have to get going. If the lights are on and my car’s there: you can drop by the station on Lynx street. Keep an eye open; some of the Huskers are smarter than you’d think. They’ve already figured out they have to hide during the day. Damn things have taken to cannibalism. If you have to kill to survive, you do it. There are still some good people alive in this community but be careful who you trust.”

  “Good advice, thanks,” Rave said. “When are you expecting reinforcements?”

  “I’m not.” Zygmunt swung the carbine off from around his shoulder and checked the chamber, pleased to see a shell in the breach. “A squad should’ve air lifted in yesterday from Wainwright but they didn’t make it. Got swarmed on the tarmac before they could get in the air. None survived. For now, we’re on our own.”

  “Damn,” Hannah swore. “What now?”

  “I guess we look for a generator,” Raven responded.

  “Good luck, ladies. Wear your gloves and mask whenever you’re out. I’ve got more at the station if you need them.”

  “Thanks Officer . . .” Hannah craned her neck to read the officers name across the parka.

  “Ziggy, ma’am. The name is Ziggy.” He lifted his goggles long enough to wink at the women, a speck of hope transmitted in that simple gesture. The friends watched the officer climb behind the wheel of his cruiser and drive down the street. His taillights were visible until he turned right onto Bear Street.

  “Well, that was not very encouraging,” Bobi offered, from the backseat.

  “That’s an understatement,” Hannah responded, crossing her arms over the top of the steering wheel while turning to look at her roommates. “Sounds like we better make our trip a short one. We don’t want to be here after dark.”

  “Agreed. Mick, where do you think we might find a generator?” Raven asked.

  “Hell, your guess is as good as mine. Anybody have any ideas?” Mick responded. “Is there a hospital here? They might have portable generators or perhaps the fire station.”

  “They’ve probably already been picked clean but might be a good place to start. I think the hospital is over on Lynx street, pretty close to the police station. We probably drove very near it on our way into town. Head back the way we came and look for Lynx,” Raven instructed.

  Hannah started the vehicle and drove a block, coming to a full stop at a four-way intersection. “What are you doing?” Mick asked.

  “What? Do you want to drive?” Hannah asked, taking her hands off the wheel.

  “No, you’re doing fine. I just don’t think Ziggy is going to pull us over for running a stop sign. We’re the only car on the road besides his,” Mick explained.

  “Okay, anytime someone else wants to drive, I’m happy to give up the wheel.”

  They wound their way through the deserted-looking neighborhoods and abandoned businesses until they arrived at the front of the Banff - Mineral Springs Hospital. The structure was dark, the black windows stood out against the white siding of the one-storey building, giving it a cold and uninviting appearance. A trio of flags swirled at the top of 30-foot flagpoles, the red maple leaf against a white background drew their eyes upward. A light cover of snow still covered the grassy regions but most of the snow on the roads and sidewalks had melted with the aid of a warming autumn sun.

  Outside the Jeep, they prepared for the unknown, each masking up after putting on a fresh set of rubber gloves. “Who wants what?” Mick asked, referring to the guns.

  “What’s the lightest?” Bobi asked. “Give me whatever is the shortest and lightest.”

  “That doesn’t describe any of them. The shotgun is probably the least heavy but it’s the longest. Hannah, you better take that one. Raven, you’ve already demonstrated your ability with the Winchester so you might as well keep that one and Bobi, you and I’ll use the new ones.” Mick’s directions were followed with a quick swap of rifles, as needed, each woman filling her pockets with the appropriate shells. They collectively looked over the Russian guns, helped each other remember what Ziggy had said and practiced removing and replacing the clip. “We ready?” Mick asked.

  “As we’ll ever be,” Hannah responded, followed quickly by ‘yup’s’ from the other two.

  The four friends tried the main entrance and found the doors locked and secured. They began a clockwise walk around the building, trying each window and door until they arrived at the ER entrance. An emergency medical response truck was parked near the doublewide doors but no easy access was available to either.

  “Well, I guess we break in,” Raven said, instructing the others to stand back while she used the heavy barrel to shatter a pane over the rear door. It took three increasingly bolstered strikes to crack and then shatter the hardened glass. Shards flew inward, opening a gap into which Raven was able to slip her hand and release the lock from the other side. “Easy as that,” she said, inviting her friends to walk through the door that she held for them.

  “Nicely done,” Mick assessed, as she walked through.

  “Okay, I’d suggest we all split up and go our separate ways and hope that we don’t get killed in the process. Sound like a plan?” Bobi suggested.

  “What? I’m not going anywhere on my own. Are you crazy?” Hannah asked, not quite sure if she was being punked or not.

  “Hannah, ever heard of sarcasm? Splitting up always seems to work in the movies. Before the hour is out, we’ll all be Huskers,” Bobi continued.

  “Very funny, I vote that Bobi guards the doors while we search the place,” Hannah replied.

  “Bull, ain’t nobody leaving me on my own. We stick together, right?”

  “Yeah, we better stay together. Who’s got the flashlight?” Raven asked, knowing she didn’t have it. Each of the women looked to one another, sure that someone had picked it up. “Really, no one has a flashlight? Fine burglars we’re turning out to be.”

  “Hold on, I can use my phone as a light. Great little app but it drains the battery pretty quick so we have to use it sparingly.” Hannah removed the phone from her pocket and turned on the light. It produced a diffuse band of white illumination that made the task of maneuvering the hallways significantly easier.

  “Good thinkin’ Hannah,” the lab tech said, sliding up to give the taller woman a gentle nudge.

  “Thanks, but it’s your cell’s car adapter that is the real hero. We’d be hooped without it. Hey Bobi, do me a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Don’t shoot me with that thing, okay?”

  “I’ll try, but once I get rockin’ ’n rollin’, who knows what might happen.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Hannah responded.

  “You two hold it down for a minute and listen,” Mick said, hushing the others.

  They stood motionless for a time, each straining and listening for anything that would alert them to danger. Nothing could be heard but the sound of their own breathing.

  “I don’t think they have a surgical suite in something this small but they may have a cardiac unit. If they have a small generator, that’s where it’d be,” Bobi assured her friends.

  They meandered through the facility for another 15 minutes before they arrived at a set of wide, double doors with an electronic opening switch. Without thinking, Bobi mashed the large, aluminum plate stamped with ‘Open’ and waited for the doors to swing wide.

  “Um, excuse me Sherlock, don’t think that’s going to work,” Hannah said, pushing past her much smaller friend and putting her shoulder to the door, prying it open. The sterile room was a reflection of white and chrome. It was somewhat in disarray, with beds unmade, dirty linens and clothing on the floor but it was otherwise cl
ean.

  “Looks like they just kicked everybody out and closed up shop,” Mick said. “Hannah, use your light and see if there’s a utility room or some type of a closet where they’d keep a generator.”

  “K - Raven, give me a hand.”

  “Sure,” she responded, holding the 30-30 tightly.

  The women quickly searched not only the cardiac unit but also several other likely spots throughout the hospital, finding no generator. However, they commandeered some other useful items including bandages, medication and a case of Ensure meal supplement. By the time they finished, Hannah’s cell phone was nearly dead, dimming their ability to see and forage.

  Standing at the base of the Canadian Flag the friends discussed their situation. Each dialed home, Bobi and Mick were able to make contact with their families, finding them safe and trying to stay out of harm’s way. The conditions near their family’s homes were much the same as Banff and Calgary, native reserves were impassable and thousands of Huskers on the streets with dwindling food supplies and no relief in sight. The other two young women were not as fortunate. Raven tried her father, Nanna and finally Smugs, the only one able to receive her signal. They spoke briefly before the line went dead. Her uncle had not spoken to her father in days but assured her, he was well. Smugs was in Lethbridge, hunkered down with friends and trying to ride out the viral storm. Earlier in the week the authorities had released all non-violent offenders, including his daughter, and he was pleased to have her with him. Somewhat relieved, Rave continued to hold out hope for some word from her dad, but Hannah was not. She’d sent texts, as the others had throughout the week, without reply, and today using Bobi’s cell, there was no immediate answer.

  “He’s probably been deployed to a trouble spot,” Bobi suggested, hoping it might brighten Hannah’s spirits.

  “I’m sure that’s it. The base could be on lockdown and just no way to get in touch with them. There’s a lot of cellular towers between here and there, maybe one is down,” Mick proposed, also wishing to lighten her friends worries.

  “Yeah, I’m sure it’s something like that but I’d just like some indication that they’re safe.”

  “It’ll come, Han, soon enough it’ll come,” Bobi said, wrapping her free arm around her friend and giving her a squeeze.

  “Thanks guys, any suggestions . . . wait a minute. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this earlier. The dental office: some of these little communities have small back up generators in case they loose power and are in the middle of a procedure. Any idea where the dentist is?” Hannah asked.

  The women racked their brains, knowing they’d seen signs at some point in their travels but recalling the exact location was difficult. “If we just drove around, I’m sure we’d run into one,” Bobi hinted.

  “Yes, and what else might we run into if we have to drive every street?” Mick warned, before she pulled her ball cap off and smoothed back her hair. “Bobi, use your phone and see if you can get an Internet hit on the location. A few minutes later Bobi issued a quick rundown on several offices, the closest being just one block over on Bear Street.

  “Let’s start there but save the list,” Raven noted. “We can . . . ” Raven’s next thought was cut off by the sound of a commotion coming from around the corner on Squirrel Street, near the elementary school. The girls each freed their hands of cell phones and gripped their weapons. An instant adrenalin rush pulsed through their arteries and heightened their senses. “Stay calm, ladies.”

  “Stay calm, my ass, let’s get out of here,” Bobi said, rushing for the Jeep and the safety it might provide. The other three followed her closely, but Mick stopped short when a dog’s panicked bark reached out to her. “Mick, get in, get in,” Bobi shouted from the backseat.

  “It’s in trouble, can’t you hear it?” Mick asked, as she slowly moved around to the passenger side. She reluctantly climbed in and closed the door behind her. “Hannah, drive around the corner and let’s see what’s going on, but be prepared to get us out of here.”

  “I don’t think that’s such a great . . . ” Hannah was cut off with a single look from Mick. “Okay, whatever.”

  The Jeep cautiously edged closer to the intersection and the noise. Hannah tapped lightly on the accelerator, crawling quietly to a stop where they could see down the street. Eighty feet away and at the junction of two buildings, three individuals had a large dog cornered; the fur along its spine was on end and its fangs exposed. The deep, warning growls had no affect on the intruders, nor did the barking between the animal lunging and snapping at the people.

  “Huskers?” Bobi asked.

  “Not sure, let’s find out,” Raven said, extending her head out the window. “Hey, hey you, leave that dog alone.”

  The three moved closer to the chocolate colored lab but gave no indication that they’d heard Raven’s screams.

  “What do we do?” Bobi asked, now kneeling on the seat behind Raven.

  “I’m sure as hell not going to sit here and watch them eat that dog,” Mick said, opening her door and stepping outside with the AK-47 in her hands. She took two steps before the sound of Raven’s rifle sounded behind her, the bullet splitting the air and the slug striking stone just over the head of the tallest Husker. The shattering bits of brick drew the stalkers attention away from the dog and to the woman standing in the road. For a second, all parties appeared stone-like, sizing up the situation and unsure of what the next move might be. The dog, sensing an escape, bolted through a gap in the Husker’s legs and sprinted for the Jeep. “Come on, pooch! That’s it, come on, come on!” Mick excitedly shouted, waving at the charging canine.

  The fleeing animal pushed the infected into action, first one, then all three huskers lurched forward with graceless, floundering steps that turned to an awkward lope. “Mick, get in, there’s no time,” Hannah yelled from the driver’s seat. When Mick didn’t move, Bobi and Hannah began calling to the dog as well, encouraging and pleading with the hound. As if recognizing a choice opportunity, the lab scampered past Mick, who now had her rifle leveled at the oncoming trio, and jumped through the open door and into Hannah’s arms.

  The Huskers had closed the distance, making escape impossible without a confrontation. Mick pivoted to see the animal safely inside the cab and was turning to fire when the 30-30 erupted again, this time launching a hot core of lead into the tall Husker’s thigh, spinning him around and dropping him to the ground. The teacher swung back to the open door and dived in, giving Hannah a shout to hit the gas. Raven twisted in her seat to see the other two huskers descend on their injured comrade, mutilating his flesh while he yet lived.

  “Go Hannah, go!” Bobi shrieked from the backseat. The driver spun the rear tires, racing them away from the cruel scene.

  “Thanks Rave, kinda had my butt hangin’ out there for a minute,” Mick shouted.

  “Mick . . . I just shot somebody. I . . . I knew I had to but . . . ” She paused, looking at the gun in her hands. “What else could I do?”

  “Nothing, absolutely nothing,” Mick yelled from the front seat.

  As they sped away from the encounter, Hannah asked the obvious, “Any chance this mutt is infected?”

  Mick ran her gloved hands over the animal’s coat and felt no injury and found no blood. “Risk is almost zero,” Bobi answered. First indications at the laboratory were all negative for animal contamination, but I guess it could be possible that he’s a carrier.”

  “That’s not exactly what I wanted to hear,” Hannah replied, edging a few inches closer to the driver’s door.

  “Yeah, but even if he . . . ” Bobi continued, but Mick quickly corrected her.

  “You mean, her. It’s a female,”

  “Oh, sorry. Even if she were a carrier, you’d probably have to ingest her blood to get sick. Kind of like AIDS, there’s a viral load in the spit and tears but not enough to overwhelm the immune system and take hold. She seems pretty healthy, owners probably just ran out of food and didn’t have any ch
oice but to set her free.”

  “What’ll we call her, Mick?” Rave asked, reaching with her own gloved hand to scratch behind the dog’s ears.

  “I don’t know, I . . . ”

  “What was it you called her when she was running for it?” Hannah asked.

  “Ah, I don’t . . . you mean pooch?”

  “Yeah, that’s a perfect name for her, Pooch,” Hannah appraised, also taking a quick second to touch the 70-pound canine.

  “Well then, Pooch it is. You like that girl?” Mick asked in a child-like voice. The dog responded with a wet lick that caught Mick off guard, the tongue leaving a moist trail up the side of the teacher’s face. “I guess she likes it.”

  Two hours later and with the afternoon sun getting dangerously low on the horizon, the women headed out of town for the relative safety of the cabin. On the front seat, Pooch stood over Mick, the dog’s head thrust out the window with her ears flapping in the wind. The teacher tried to hold the lab and rifle and see where they were going, managing to do all three things badly. Bobi and Raven were enjoying the show from the backseat, each taking turns firing funny one-liners at Mick and enjoying some levity after the events of the day. In the cargo area, now full to capacity, sat a small, gas-fed generator that looked like it’d never been used. A gas can and siphon hose bounced along beside it as they skirted the few cars on the roads and sailed for home.

  Chapter 12

  Pooch stretched her long, lean legs on an old throw rug before a bristling fire, enjoying the radiant heat that reflected off the rear of the fireplace and filled the space. For the first time in days the lights burned brightly in the little cabin, shooting rays beyond the windows and into the surrounding trees.

  “What’s gonna happen, Mick?” Hannah asked. The women sat on the floor in a semi-circle around their new pet, munching popcorn and drinking Dr. Pepper.

  “Like I know?” she said. “What I do know is we have to look after ourselves first and worry about all the other stuff second. We’re in a safe place: we have food, a watchdog, and each other. If we’re careful and hold out, the government will soon regain control and they’ll restore some sense of normalcy.”

 

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