The Chronos Plague (Book 1): No Time Left

by Talluto, Joseph

  “How do we get up there?” Andrea asked.

  That was a good question. I circled the base and saw there was a door on the north side, and it was secured with a padlock. I could only assume they brought a ladder with them when they came out here to hunt. It made sense if they wanted to keep anyone out, or at least make it hard for random people to just use it.

  Like us right now, for instance.

  Something seemed off, however, and when I looked closer at one of the trees, I could see that about six feet off the ground, the tree had what appeared to be handholds. That made more sense. There was a deadfall log laying on the ground under the structure, and I told Andrea to grab one end.

  She shook her head and picked up her end, but she suddenly got a strange look on her face and dropped the log.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” I asked, dropping my end, too.

  “Turn it over,” Andrea said.

  We moved the log over and both of us were surprised at the small ladder carved into the wood of the log, and the bag of short dowel rods secured with plastic clamps at the bottom.

  “I’ll be damned,” Andrea said. “I thought these people were just a bunch of dumb hillbillies.”

  “You don’t live long out here by being stupid,” I said. “In these parts, they couldn’t care less what your pedigree is. They care if you can do for yourself. In these hills, a man is measured by how he holds himself up and manages by himself. That’s worth more than any high-priced education.”

  Andrea looked at me funny. “Sounds like you might know them up close and personal.”

  “I might, at that,” I said. “My family settled in this area, maybe a little more south and east about two hundred years back.”

  “I knew it!” Andrea said. “You do have roots somewhere.”

  “Tell anyone and I’ll shoot you.”

  “I actually believe you would.”

  The log fit into a pre-cut notch in the tree, securing the small ladder to allow a person to climb up the required six feet, then using the pegs, create a ladder in pre-drilled holes in the sides of the pine tree. In little more effort than it took to climb hill to this spot, I was at the door, picking the lock.

  Andrea came up behind me, but she took care to flip the log back down, and gather the pegs as she climbed up. I wasn’t sure how she managed that, but I let it pass.

  I got the padlock open in under a minute, and opened the door just as Andrea was about to crowd me on the ladder. I stepped inside and was suddenly speechless.

  Andrea stepped in and she was hit the same way.

  The room was much larger than it seemed from outside, easily fifteen feet across at its largest point. The top half of the walls in three directions looked like they swung out and up, giving the user three clear fields of fire. There was a locker in a corner, and one wall was full of deer-hunting equipment. Several ropes were hanging from a hook, and they were separated by length. A small refrigerator was on one wall, with a coiled extension rope next to it. On the floor was a coil rug, covering nearly three-quarters of the space. In the center of the rug was a small table and four chairs.

  “Well, whoever built this place really wanted a home away from home,” Andrea said.

  “What’s up there?” I asked, pointing to a small ladder attached to the wall.

  “I guess I will find out,” Andrea said. She turned her weapon light on and went to investigate while I opened a western-facing window to let in some more light. There was a window, and I opened it, but I had to open the wooden shutters, too. I think the shutters were more to keep the windows from being broken by some random teenager than anything else.

  “Mac, you have got to see this,” Andrea called from above my head.

  I climbed the ladder and when I looked at what Andrea called me up for, I just shook my head in disbelief. The loft was a sleeping area, and there were five distinct sleeping sections, each with their own lamp, their own cot, and their own bed stand. Above each cot, a small shelf was attached to the wall, and there was more than one shelf that had paperback books on them.

  “Wow. I bet they stay here for the whole deer season,” I said. “Or, at least, they used to,” I corrected myself.

  “Which one do you want?” Andrea asked.

  “I’ll take the one by the ladder,” I said. “I’ll be downstairs unpacking. I need to reorganize my pack.”

  “Good idea. This gun and yours need cleaning,” Andrea said.

  I cheerfully handed over my .45. I preferred a clean gun, but if someone was willing to do it for me, I was all over that like bum on a ham sandwich.

  I packed and repacked while Andrea cleaned, and it was weird to actually relax for real. We literally had no fears while we were up here. The zombies couldn’t reach us, any crazy locals couldn’t reach us, and we were safe from the elements. It had been a long time since I was able to truly relax.

  Night came and I found myself in a comfortable cot drifting off to sleep when a small voice came out of the darkness.

  “Mac?”

  It was Andrea. I was hoping it was my dream.

  “What?”

  “How come you never talk about what happened to the world?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, you don’t talk much about yourself, which I get, being the cranky old fuck that you are, but what happened to the world? How did this happen? I mean, zombies shouldn’t exist. How did it all go to hell so fast? I mean, one day we’re all happy and cool with the way things were and literally the next day I’m on the front line firing into a crowd of dead men trying to kill me,” Andrea said.

  “Well, gosh, when you put it so sweetly, how can I not just go onto story time, pumpkin?” I said.

  Andrea paused for a moment, obviously stunned by my use of affectionate terms. “I’m serious. What happened?”

  “Well, that’s quite a story,” I said.

  “I’m all ears, and seriously cannot go anywhere.”

  “Okay. Remember you asked for it.” I told her about the early days, when I was chasing a ghost across the continents, trying to find a scientist that was still alive. I told her about HORD, and the awful place in Canada. I told her about Elliott, and what happened to him. I went into detail about Jester, and how it became a hunt for them and the slow realization of what they were trying to do. I finished up with my front-line view of when the world went mad in a single day.

  “Holy hell,” Andrea said.

  “That’s about the size of it,” I said.

  “How did they get the virus spread so fast?”

  I rolled over. “Time for bed. No more questions.”

  “You’re not fair.”

  “No, but I’m a great storyteller who knows how to keep his audience coming back.”

  “Ugh.”

  In the morning, we took stock of all of our supplies, and realized we were pretty good to go for at least a week, if not more. We had seen several groups of zombies roaming the woods, remnants of the fight we had the other day. It was in our best interest to just stay in the heights and let the dead waltz on by. We were safe, we had supplies, and we had books to keep us entertained. I pillaged the bookshelves for anything of substance, and was pleasantly surprised with a couple of suspense novels. Andrea enjoyed the historical fiction books she found, and the two of us actually spent a pleasant couple of days reading, napping, and just forgetting the world was crap.

  “If we had a better amount of supplies, this would be a decent place to spend a few months,” she said one afternoon over her book on Civil War spies.

  “That is true. Only downside is lack of a bathroom and shower,” I said.

  “Oh, please don’t mention shower! I would kill you for a ten-minute hot shower.” Andrea groaned.

  “Good to know where I stand in the scheme of things. Joe MacCullen, ex-CIA. Unmarried, no dependents. Current value, one shower. Nice.” I didn’t even bother to make eye contact.

  “You know what I meant.” Andrea pouted.
>
  “Wrong. I know what you said. The meaning of a woman is beyond the ken of men,” I said, affecting an accent I never used. “Although, if you dinna get a hot shower soon enough, I mi’ be persuaded to end me own life, ya stinking lass.”

  Andrea threw a book at me and laughed. “That was the worst accent I have ever heard.”

  “I doubt it,” I said. “Let’s get moving.”

  “Today?”

  “Tomorrow. We pack up today.”

  We left our high retreat reluctantly, as anyone would of a place that was virtually guaranteed to be safe from zombie attack. We were careful about how we left, making sure everything as back in its place and the lock secured. The only downside was getting off the tree. But a quick jump and tumble solved that problem, and we were on our way.

  We did spend a good deal of time going over our maps and figuring out where we were. I wasn’t totally sure, but I was pretty sure that we would be getting out of Tennessee soon. Andrea and I walked down the hill, and took the road we found. I figured if we were going to get anywhere with any semblance of time-saving, we’d be better off to do it on the road. The woods were nice but they were pretty creepy.

  About three miles down the road, I began to get a familiar feeling on the back of my neck. I paused briefly to tie my shoe, and I got a good look behind me as I did so.

  As I stood up, I passed Andrea and whispered to her.

  “We’re being followed,” I said.

  Andrea, the professional soldier, took it completely in stride. If anyone thought anything was different, the only clue was she had slipped her finger inside the trigger guard on the AR, and loosened the straps that held in her spare mags.

  We kept walking, and I watched the trees and the hills, looking for any signs of ambush. I didn’t see any place that I would use as a place to fire from, so we moved at the same pace.

  “How many?” Andrea asked under her breath.

  “Two. They’re lousy at what they’re doing, so I figure they’re just there to be a surprise to whatever we’re walking into,” I said. “Feel like running?” I asked.

  Andrea smiled. “That’s one way to do it.”

  We suddenly took off running at a brisk pace, covering ground rapidly. The trees passed us quickly, and I was slightly proud of myself that I could keep up with Andrea. Of course, everyone ran these days. You didn’t survive if you couldn’t outrun a band of zombies.

  We rounded a bend and the road curved around a valley. It looped back on itself and we were able to see the back way.

  “Hold tight,” Andrea said. She knelt down by a tree and aimed across the valley. She adjusted the scope and we waited. I kept my eyes on the road ahead.

  Two minutes passed, then the suppressed AR coughed once, then twice.

  “Got ‘em,” Andrea said.

  “Dead?”

  “Down. Just as good.”

  I thought so. We walked carefully forward, as the trees were getting closer to the road and there were several outcroppings of rock that could easily hide a shooter. We approached each with a gun at the ready, but did not see anyone.

  Another mile down the road and we started a downhill grade. I was glad to be moving downhill, but I wasn’t sure if we were going to be going back up again, because the hills of Tennessee were like that. Just when you thought you saw the last one, there was another, and then you were in Kentucky. Never knew how that happened.

  We turned another corner and in the stretch of straight road, they were waiting for us. Two pickup trucks were blocking the road, and two men were standing in front of the trucks, holding rifles. The other two were behind the beds of the trucks, aiming rifles at Andrea and me. The biggest one, who must have been the leader, decided to speak as we approached.

  “Well, how y’all…shit!” The man stopped talking suddenly as two things happened very quickly.

  I pushed Andrea away from me and she used the momentum to reach the trees on the side of the road. I used the momentum in my direction to get to the trees on my side and pull my gun at the same time. I fired from the hip, just throwing bullets in front of me, and hoping for a hit. Everyone ducked for cover and started shooting back. Their shots were unaimed and went wild, but before I reached cover, something hit me in the side and it twisted me for a second. I scrambled for another couple of long seconds and got to cover.

  Andrea opened up on her side, aiming for legs and connecting with at least one man. Screams and curses came back our way and I backed away from my tree with my gun out, using it as cover, then popping out to fire at anything that moved. A man was under the truck so I shot a tire, and that spooked him enough that he rolled out and stood up, which gave Andrea a great target. She shot him right in the chest and he toppled over like a felled tree.

  I shot again, this time hitting a man in the knee that he stuck out from behind the truck. He fell to the ground and Andrea shot him in the head. That made two that I was certain of. The other two shot wild, covering the brush with bullets, and I just stayed behind my tree. Bullets knocked on the Blue Spruce I was hiding behind, but I wasn’t in the mood to answer just yet.

  I waited until they stopped then looked again, this time seeing a foot sticking out by a tire. I put a large caliber bullet into the shoe, and the man fell down, giving Andrea another target. She didn’t miss again.

  The firing from the other side stopped and there was the sound of someone trying to start one of the trucks. The engine coughed and roared, then there was the screeching of tires. I looked out and saw one of the trucks careening down the road. The man had taken the truck with the shot out tire, and he was losing control as the truck fishtailed spectacularly. He overcompensated and the truck spun completely around, sliding off the road and heading down the hill. There was a heavy crash, another roar of the engine, silence, and then a really big crash. I was pretty sure whoever took that truck was not coming back from that accident.

  I stepped out of the trees and back onto the road. Andrea came out and she looked at me funny.

  “Oh, jeez,” she said, putting down the rifle and getting her pack off her back.

  “What?” I said. I stepped forward, then everything went black as I collapsed to the ground. The last thing I remember was Andrea shouting at me to hold on.

  I woke up in the bed of a truck staring at a night sky. I had no idea where I was or what had happened. I put a hand behind me to push myself up when another hand pushed me back.

  “Not so fast. You got shot, you stupid son of a bitch,” Andrea said. “You need to rest.”

  “Your bedside manner sucks, Doc,” I said. “Where did I…oh. Ouch.” I lay back as a wave of pain hit my side. I looked down and used very gentle fingers to figure out where I had been shot. By my view, I had been hit just above the hip. Nothing vital was struck, the bullet passed through the fleshy part, but it was messy and I had lost a lot of blood.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Right where we shouldn’t be,” Andrea said.

  I painfully pushed myself up to a sitting position, and looked over the side of the truck bed. We were parked on a road next to a huge cliff that went straight up for at least forty feet. The other side of the road was a very large river, covering at least a mile of water. In the night, it was black as pitch, sparkling briefly here and there as fish tried to jump out and feast on the stars. Every once in a while, they were lucky and caught a lightning bug.

  I sank back down, appreciating the mess we were in. It was night, we had no place to go, a damned huge river to cross, and I was wounded. I was tempted to ask what else could go wrong but twisting the universe at a time like this was suicidal.

  We were in a lot of trouble.

  Chapter 12 – 2 Weeks BTEOTW

  “Time to talk.”

  I really wasn’t in the mood for any of this. “Steve, what do I have to do to get you to leave me alone? I already told you everything the doctor told me.”

  “Not good enough, pumpkin. I’ll drag you down here if I h
ave to,” Steve said.

  “Try it and I’ll shoot you.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “I would happily shoot both your kneecaps off,” I said. “Come to think of it, that sounds like fun. Why don’t you come up here big boy and I’ll use you for target practice.”

  There was a long pause on the other end of the line. I think Steve was really trying to figure out whether or not I would risk actually shooting him in the middle of Langley.

  “Okay, seriously, I need to talk to you.”

  “Do you have any new information?” I asked, making sure my impatience was in my voice. I had spent the last two weeks trying to read the airways for anything on Jester. I thought I had a lead in Nebraska, but it was a dead end. Nothing happened on the zombie front, but I felt like the world was just holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next, and when it did, the world would either sigh with relief or scream in rage. I had a feeling we’d be hearing the scream.

  “Sadly, no. Everything leads to the same result. Nothing we’ve tried stops it, and we’ve even tried reverse-engineering the virus. Whoever worked on this was on another level altogether,” Steve said.

  “Well, that’s great. Now you know how I feel when someone keeps asking me if I have any new information. Any thoughts on delivery? Remember, there was a bunch of it stolen from that wonderful place in the jungle.”

  “That’s another one. It seems like it’s not viable in open air past six hours, and it’s not spread through air. Bites and blood will send it along quickly, but it seems like the virus can live for seventy-two hours in a liquid medium, anywhere between fifty and two hundred degrees Fahrenheit.”

  “That’s a big range,” I said, tossing that one over in my head. “Wonder why it was made that way.”

  “First guess? They wanted something that worked even though they might have to deliver it to remote areas, places that might question its legality. Or potential illegality,” Steve said.