The Chronos Plague (Book 1): No Time Left

by Talluto, Joseph

  “Conner’s gone. He caught the virus and we can’t save him in time. Upside is he can be studied to see if we can find a cure,” I said simply.

  The room took a collective breath and I continued.

  “We’ve got a lead on a possible survivor of the Jester purge. Their objective seemed to be to make sure that no one would have the expertise needed to counter this virus. Got a possible location if our luck is phenomenal, if not she’s either in the wind or dead,” I said.

  “And what does that mean for us, with what we’ve seen?” DoC asked.

  “If we don’t focus assets on finding and literally eliminating Jester, we’re in for it. We got lucky in Utah, but word could be spreading right now if we don’t shut things down. Those hikers in Utah may have uploaded a video for all we know and it’s gone viral, no joke there.”

  Two guys over by their computers started typing furiously and then shook their collective heads. Small blessings to all.

  “What’s your move, now?” the assistant director asked.

  “Waiting for a call from Ecuador, so I’m going to go home and change. I have a feeling I am going to need more gear than I’m wearing,” I said.

  “What should our move be?” the DoC asked me.

  I was a little taken aback by the suggestion. Normally, people didn’t want to hear what I had to say, especially when it might interfere with their worldview.

  “Honestly? Drop everything, recall everyone, and find and kill every member of Jester. Pressure them for any information. We’re at critical here and we’ve been behind the curve since day one,” I said.

  “Anything else?”

  I had a sense of foreboding wash over me, unlike anything I had ever felt before. For the people in the room, my next word was probably the scariest thing I had ever said.

  “Pray.”

  Chapter 9 – 8 Months ATEOTW

  “Any clue where we are?”

  “Best guess?”

  “I’ll take anything right now.”

  “We’re not in Georgia.”

  “Acceptable.”

  “Outside of that, it’s not much better than we’re in some trees on a road.”

  We’d been traveling carefully for over a week and a half. Andrea and I had grown to trust each other enough that I gave her the use of my carbine. It was easier to split up the weapons, but I kept both my pistols. She had her own Beretta, which put her on her own for ammo. I only had .45s.

  Andrea was a soldier, and she told me a lot about what she had faced when things had gone south. The army had tried their best, even after their commanders had abandoned them and left them to fight on their own. Eventually, they retreated as far as they could, and when they had no place left to go, they fought a running fight to wherever they could. They had families, too, and they knew all too well what hell was waiting for them.

  Our travel had been slowed by the fact that we studiously avoided any areas that looked to be populated. And what I meant by populated was just having people in it. I wasn’t in the mood to see either living or dead people. We camped out most nights, or when the opportunity presented itself, we stayed in the odd lone house or cabin. Our path was to go north and west, and Andrea had on occasion asked me where I was headed, but I wasn’t in the mood to divulge that information just yet.

  The road we were on was identified by a sign that said we were on Tennessee Route 156, but that meant as much to me as knowing the names of trees I walked past. As long as I was headed in the general right direction, and not trapped by dead people, I was all right with things.

  Andrea told me a little bit about herself. She had joined the military to get out of the small town she grew up in. College was not an option, growing up poor, and she didn’t want to get married to some alcoholic like her mom did and wind up growing old in a trailer. So when the recruiter opened his doors on her eighteenth birthday, she was gone.

  Andrea was six months shy of finishing her enlistment when the world went sideways. The Army had taught her how to survive, think for herself, and keep a general decent attitude about things she could control and the things she couldn’t. She’d have made a good candidate for the CIA.

  We didn’t talk much on the road, and that was one of the big reasons I liked having her around. We had a partnership kind of relationship, and that worked for me. I had no interest in anything else. Hell, she was young enough to be my daughter, which made “anything else” kind of creepy in my book. I think she appreciated the fact that I was not interested in those sorts of things. It made it easier when confronting situations that might kill us. Neither she nor I would shed many tears over the death of the other.

  “You hear that?” Andrea asked, bringing the carbine up to the low ready position from its normal position on her back.

  “The sound of a car racing down the road?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  “No, don’t hear a thing.”

  “You’re an ass.”

  “This is new to you?”

  “Ugh. Trees or road?”

  “My radar is going off on this one. That’s too loud of an engine for this area. Let’s get into the trees. I’ll take the left side,” I said, breaking off the road. I jumped the ditch with little grace and carefully but quickly made my way into the tree line, keeping a large enough tree between me and the oncoming noise. Andrea did the same on her side. One thing we had to be careful of was leaving a large track to follow in the grass on the side of the road. Anyone who was paying attention would know something large had passed that way.

  We didn’t have long to wait. A large pickup truck with a heavy snow plow attached to the front was barreling down the road at a pretty good clip. It rattled and shook, and I saw it hit a small bump and the plow looked like it jumped a few inches. If I had to guess, that thing was held together with wire, tape, and dried chewing tobacco.

  Just when I thought the truck would pass us, the rattletrap slid, skidded, and skated to a stop just a little past where Andrea and I had split into the woods. I wasn’t worried about being seen, but I also didn’t believe in coincidences.

  A young man jumped out of the truck, slamming the door shut and literally shaking the entire truck. He had long brown hair that he clearly loved, given the way he tossed it about every time he turned his head. He wore what I would call interesting clothes. His jeans were black, and he sported a white shirt and a black vest. A bright purple scarf wrapped around his neck, and a nickeled revolver rode in a black holster at his hip. Several necklaces of bright beads hung from his neck and he had bright turquoise beads in a bracelet on his left wrist.

  “Y’all may as well come out! I saw you up the road before you went into the woods!” he called out.

  Since he was facing me, I figured he was talking to me. I stayed behind a tree and called back.

  “No thanks! You can keep going! Like your truck by the way!” I figured a compliment might speed things along.

  “You know, I ain’t really askin’,” he said, pulling his gun out and twirling it around on his finger. He spun it forward and back, aiming in my general direction.

  I had to chuckle. He had no real idea where I was, and he obviously thought his swagger was bold enough to get the job done. I had to think about this one. I could easily shoot him and take his truck, but I had a feeling shooting someone so steeped in his own aura might not be good for my karma.

  I called back. “Put it away and ride on. I won’t warn you again. And no, I’m not asking either.”

  The young man’s pride was touched, and I could see it cloud his face. It warred with his common sense that was yelling in his ear that anyone willing to threaten a man with a gun probably was already armed. Unfortunately, common sense loss the argument.

  He aimed the gun at the trees, and his face was ugly.

  “Git out, now! I swear I’ll start sendin’ bullets everywheres and leave you to die bleedin’!” he yelled.

  “Hey, stupid.”

  Everything was suddenly
still. Purple Scarf was frozen, his gun and his other hand extended out in a humorous parody of classic zombies. I couldn’t blame him. Having the muzzle of a rifle tickle your ear isn’t a pleasant experience and tends to send all thoughts of anger fleeing for their lives. I could almost hear his common sense being snide and saying things like “I told you so.”

  Andrea had used the cover of the truck and Purple Scarf’s noise to slip out of the woods and get behind him. She’d actually crawled under the truck and the surprise was total. I stepped out of the woods, covering the man with my own gun, and you could see the rest of his sense coming back to him as he realized he could have been easily killed without even making a play for himself.

  His ego was intact, though slightly diminished. He waited until I took his gun from him and then holstered my own before speaking.

  “Well, you got me. Now what? You gonna kill me?” he asked, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at Andrea. He seemed unsurprised that he had been jumped by a woman. His glance over me gave him another surprise. I was likely older than he expected. I got that a lot.

  “Nope. No need,” I said. “Even though you threatened me, and by rights I could just kill you and leave you for dead, I think you might be useful,” I said.

  “Useful how?” he asked, tossing his hair out of his eyes.

  “Hang on, forgot my manners. I’m Joe and that’s Andrea,” I said.

  “Hi,” Andrea said.

  Southern manners asserted themselves and the young man introduced himself. “I’m Brent. Nice to meet you, I think.”

  I nodded at Andrea and she took the gun away. I handed Brent his gun back, and he looked at me strangely.

  “Y’all takin’ a chance givin’ me my gun back, ain’t you?” Brent asked.

  “Hell, no,” I said. “Last time I did that the fella tried to use it.”

  “What happened?”

  “Here I am,” I said. “Now, seeing as you seemed to be going somewhere, how’s about a ride?” I asked. “I’m a little tired of walking.”

  Brent looked at me and then Andrea. “I ain’t got a choice, do I?”

  Andrea shook her head. “I’d say you owe us one.” She still held the rifle at the low ready, and a flick of her arms could put a round right into anyone’s gut if she wanted.

  “Actually you do,” I said. “You could still ride off alone, and leave us here, no harm no foul. That offer still stands. I’m tired of walking but I’m not that tired of it. We’ll find another car eventually. But if you leave without us and come back with friends, let’s say, then our feelings on the matter might be different.”

  “Meanin’ you’d start shootin’,” Brent said.

  “I’d take your return with ill intent unkindly,” I said.

  Brent did think it over, and the longer he thought about it, the more I was not inclined to go with him. But eventually, he just sighed.

  “Hop in,” he said.

  Andrea elected to ride in the truck bed, while I rode in the cab. My front gun was in a cross draw under my vest, so if things got twitchy, I could easily draw and make life difficult for Brent. Or short. Probably short.

  We rattled our way through the forest, and Brent seemed to be in a talkative mood.

  “After things fell apart and the zombies were wondering all over, we managed to secure a small community, putting up a fence at first then built it up to a wall. They’d cleared the surrounding areas of zombies then sent out patrols to keep it clear. They’d taken in as many people as they could, but the numbers keep growing and the food supply is running thin. So they’re foraging until the crops come in, and the foragers are bringing back zombies.

  “My ‘lil Betsy here, she makes the runs from the foragers to the community. It’s clear for me, so I just run it as fast as I can. I check the road before I run it, that’s how I saw you head into the trees. Never saw her, though. That was a slick piece of work, sneakin’ up on me like that,” Brent said, smiling over his shoulder at Andrea.

  “We’ll not bother anyone. Just drop us off on the other side and we’ll be on our way,” I said.

  “Ain’t up to me, partner. But we’ll ask just the same,” Brent said.

  A part of me didn’t like that answer, so I figured I’d just wait this one out. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d had to shoot my way out of a bad situation.

  We cleared the forest proper and drove toward what looked like a barricade of earth. It reached out left and right of the road and snaked toward the tree lines. I couldn’t see over it, but given the nature of the cleared area, I’d guess there were a few houses on the other side of that fence.

  Two men manned a portcullis, and when they saw the truck coming, they began cranking some wheels. The gate rose slowly, but Brent showed no signs of slowing down. They must have practiced this move a few times, because the truck slipped through with barely an inch to spare.

  On the other side, I expected a large compound, with dozens of temporary shelters and people just scraping by. I was shocked to see that there were about a dozen homes, and that there weren’t really any people around at all. There was a lot of open space that was utilized for crops and livestock, and one hill sported several windmills.

  A few people looked at us we drove past; others were busy with things like laundry and the like.

  We kept going and slid to a stop in the center of what someone might generously call the town. There were four buildings that covered each corner of a small crossroads. There was a gas station, what looked like a general store, a bar, and another bar. Up the road, I could see a church and a long building that looked like a small warehouse.

  I hopped out of the truck and helped Andrea down. We stayed by the truck, since it was still a source of cover if we needed it.

  “What do you think?” Andrea asked under her breath.

  “Not sure yet. Seems like a decent setup, which to me means there’s something weird here,” I said.

  “Same here. Why would Brent be making foraging runs if they literally have everything they need here?” she asked.

  That was a good question that I had no answer for. Brent had hopped away the minute we stopped, and disappeared into a bar. If he didn’t reappear in a minute, or if someone didn’t appear, then we would just keep walking.

  Right when the minute was nearly up and I was settling my pack on my shoulders, Brent reappeared. He was followed by several men and women, who fanned out in front of the bar. On the second floor of the bar, I thought I saw movement, and signaled to Andrea that there was someone up there. The window wasn’t open, but it wouldn’t take anything to shoot through it.

  The group of people didn’t say anything, they just waited, which was slightly unnerving, but I wasn’t going to fall for it. I stood quietly, with my thumb hitched in my belt. It kept my hand near my gun, which was covered by my vest.

  A man walked out of the bar slowly and with what I was sure he thought was effect. He was dressed in black, with hair that was pulled back into a ponytail. His pants were black, his shirt was black, and his polished cowboy boots were black. Even the holster and knife sheath at his belt was black. The only things that were shiny were his plated gun and his eyes.

  His eyes, which I could only describe as crazy, peered out over a long, nearly pointed nose. His slender shoulders were in line with his hips, but I could see that he had wiry strength in his arms. This one was worth keeping an eye on.

  “Mmm. Strangers. Armed strangers, coming right to me.” He spoke slowly, deliberately, but with an air of distraction that made it seem like he was talking to everyone and no one at the same time.

  “Are you in charge here?” I asked quickly.

  His eyes drifted to me then looked away. “Speak when spoken to, those are the rules. Do you have rules where you are from?”

  I waited, refusing to play this game. I was too old for this nonsense.

  At my silence he looked at me, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. His hand brushed his gun, and that was
a signal to three people to place their hands on their guns.

  I still waited, figuring this was some stupid kind of test. Push came to shove, I had a plan, and I didn’t doubt Andrea had one as well. I didn’t look, but I figured she was slipping her finger into the trigger guard and moving her thumb to flip the safety from safe to fire.

  “You were spoken to, you may answer the question. Honestly, if you please.”

  “You know what? We’re just going to go. Thank Brent for the ride in. We’ll head out on our own. Feel free to give us an escort,” I said.

  “No manners, where you are from. I shall teach you. I am Russell, and these good people have made me their leader, their champion, and enforcer of the laws we have come to utilize.” Russell waved his hand in front of him. “I was a drifter, like yourself, but these good people, they took me in, and thanks to my unique skills, have promoted me to the current position I enjoy.”

  I said nothing, keeping an eye on the two men who still had their hands on their guns. I found it useful to stay silent when the other man was talking. Oftentimes, he revealed more than he intended.

  “I have spoken of myself, and as manners dictate, you shall speak of yourself,” Russell said, finally bringing his watery eyes back onto mine.

  I sighed. “I’m Mac, and this is Andrea. We’re just passing through. Nothing else. We thought we needed supplies, but it turns out we don’t. We’ll just be on our way.”

  “Yes, to that, to that. Well, I shall decide on that, I shall. Step out, Andrea, let me see you more clearly,” Russell said.

  Andrea took one step to the side, and Russell’s eyes roamed over her long enough to be uncomfortable. She stepped back behind me, and I could hear her muttering under her breath.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here, Joe.”