Wheels' End: Book Four in the Wheels and Zombies series

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Wheels' End: Book Four in the Wheels and Zombies series Page 21

by M. Van


  At the mention of the kids, my eyes sought out Toby and Savanna where they sat on the floor, and I noticed Toby doing his best to translate everything that was being said to Savanna. They looked to be fine, but I couldn’t help wonder about the ramifications of this course of action. This had been the plan all along: to get people inoculated so they wouldn’t be able to contract the virus and turn into zombies, but every inoculation meant another virus incubator running around in the world. The Divus serum made sure a person wouldn’t become infected, but it considerably raised the chance of them infecting others. I didn’t think it’d be any time soon that there would be enough of the serum to inoculate every human being on the planet. How would they even be able to reach everyone?

  The thought felt daunting but wasn’t even my main concern. I still had to find Ash, and none of the officers at the front of the room had even mentioned her. Not that I thought they would. Mars had warned me about that. This briefing wasn’t about saving Ash, but about a desperate attempt to regain some control over the Mortem virus.

  Mars shifted at my side, and I gazed up to meet his eyes. He must have sensed my dismay, because his hand resting on my back shifted around my waist. He didn’t voice it, but with those intense eyes, he told me to be patient.

  Romero continued his briefing by explaining how the device worked, and it seemed easy enough. It worked on a battery, and you only needed to insert a vial at the top, press it to the skin, and shoot.

  “Don’t worry,” Romero said, “you’ll all find out exactly how it works when you get your own injection.” That mention caused a murmur of hushed voices to rise inside the room and me to look up at Mars. He didn’t voice it, but for a second a touch of mischief in his eyes betrayed his thoughts. A faint smile tugged at my lips as Mars gently squeezed my side, but we both knew we had bigger issues to deal with.

  Lieutenant Romero finished by divulging their plan of attack, and my blood ran cold as he pointed out our drop zones at the edges of town—nowhere near the sports complex.

  | 32

  Mags

  It was one thing to come face to face with a zombie. The mutilated bodies merely held together by decaying flesh underneath caked blood and filthy clothes were the stuff of nightmares. Irises hidden behind a white fog gave them a blank stare and allowed you to somewhat detach yourself from remembering that these were once people. It was something entirely different to watch them tear apart the lives that had been like theirs.

  The massive blades of the rotors cut through the air overhead, drowning out the sounds below and made it seem as if I was watching a silent movie, although through the open door of the helicopter, I witnessed things that no one would have even imagined making in the early nineteen hundreds. The visual came close to the zombie movies I had seen over the years, and the similarities to what I saw now were uncanny.

  I had seen a lot over the course of these fifteen or sixteen months, but this bird’s eye view of a city essentially being ravaged by the effects of the Mortem virus stood on top of a list of things I wished I could erase from my mind.

  People were running up and down the streets with no sense of where to flee. Cars slammed into each other, adding to the gridlock that had taken up most of the roads. It seemed bodies lay everywhere, and sometimes I caught sight of a form seemingly dead until it twitched and staggered back to its feet before it hurled itself at an innocent bystander.

  As Lieutenant Romero had mentioned, from up here it looked as if the outbreak originated in three separate areas that quickly spread outward. The sports complex along with the football stadium that also contained the refugee camp lay smack in the middle. If I hadn’t been able to see it from above, I might never have believed that this could have been a deliberate act. But each point of origin just seemed too carefully chosen to be a coincidence.

  Having seen enough, I drew my eyes from the door and searched the faces inside the cabin. Across from me, Angie’s gaze was focused as her dark eyes swept over the scenes outside. She had left the helmet behind this time, but like the rest of us, she was dressed in full battle gear. Her black hair was pulled into a tight braid and was sculpted into a Mohawk on the top of her head. Sitting next to me, Mars looked as calm and collected as always. Like the Mars that had rescued me from death by zombie at JFK airport. If I hadn’t known him better, I’d say he was fine, but ever so often the muscles in his jaw twitched, and he gripped his weapon so tightly that I feared he might snap it in two.

  He might not have said it aloud, but I knew he felt responsible for Dr. David taking Ash, and I would have been lying if I hadn’t considered that myself. The fact was that placing blame wouldn’t help us get her back, and we needed to get her back. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. I wanted to reassure Mars that Ash would be okay, but I wasn’t sure if I believed that myself. In need of contact, I placed my hand on his arm, but internally winced at my deformed hand. Sometimes, I forgot about the two missing digits. The last time I had seen Mars the hand had sat wrapped in bandages that covered it all. Unwilling to confront him with it now, I tried to pull my hand back, but Mars grabbed it before I could. He squeezed it and then hung on to it tightly.

  As promised he had kept us together and even managed to convince Major Franks to deploy us near the refugee camp. We had faced Dr. David before, and we knew what he was capable off. Besides, none of the others had ever met him in person; they’d only seen his pictures.

  Leaving Savanna and Toby behind hadn’t come easy for me. I still feared some agency would come to collect them and perform whatever tests on them. Luckily, Gibs had offered to stay behind with them, and Preston had agreed. Apparently, he had a bunch of younger siblings and was used to looking after kids. He was happy to do it, although I sensed his reluctance as he watched us depart. Gibs wasn’t the kind of guy who enjoyed watching his friends head off in the direction of danger while he sat by and waited for the outcome.

  The chopper circled the grounds, and besides a glimpse of other helicopters, I got a clear look at the grounds. The place was some sort of sports complex that held baseball and softball facilities, barns for horses, and a football stadium with the very familiar name Rabobank Stadium.

  I couldn’t help but think of home at the mention of the Dutch bank that still held most of my funds and savings. The thought was short lived at the sight of the large tents that had been erected across the fields and parking lots and even inside the stadium. From the briefing, we had learned that even the stables had been cleared out to make room for refugees.

  Leaning out the door of another chopper, Tom waved. He pointed at a small field not far from the sports complex. Shortly after, a voice came over the radio and announced our descent.

  Several other helicopters hovered over us, veering off to their designated drop-off points. They dropped off inoculated soldiers, airmen, and even sailors, along with ample supplies of the serum. The same thing was happening all around the city, and the sound of rotor blades seemed a constant. The military was determined to stop the virus from reaching the edges of Salinas. The goal was to inoculate as many people as possible, and for that purpose, as many members of the armed forces as were available were supplied with the intradermal vaccination devices. An intricate logistical system had been put into play to collect the devices from all over the country.

  Along with the device, I was handed a collection of vials that held the serum and a thick black marker. The idea was that, once you’d given someone an injection, you had to mark them with a big X on the cheek, so they wouldn’t get inoculated a second or third time. It seemed a sound enough idea, but I wondered how it would work once zombies came in to play and if people would even let themselves be treated as cattle. Although, I guessed “cure” and “protection against the virus” could become some powerful phrases to use.

  I had gotten rid of one of my canteens and filled the now empty pouch with the small vials. As I holstered the device, I glanced up at the rest of the team that, besides the usual susp
ects in the likes of Angie, Preston, and Tom, was also joined by Mars. Unlike the other men and women who readied themselves at the edge of the small field across from the sports complex area, we hadn’t been assigned the task of either defending the grounds or heading up the enormous task of getting a shot of serum into as many people as possible, although it had been made clear to us that if the situation arose, we shouldn’t hesitate to use the inoculation devices. The task assigned to us sounded a lot simpler: find Dr. David Warren and bring him in. Implementing that task would probably prove to be a challenge, because we did not have a single clue as to Dr. David’s whereabouts. Evidence had been strong that he had been responsible for the outbreak in Carmel-by-the-Sea. He seemed to have followed Ash there.

  Initially none of us had any idea what the doctor’s intentions might be or what he had to gain by going after Ash, everything from the fact he wasn’t finished with his research, to take revenge, to the idea that he might have gone insane. These thoughts remained valid even after he had contacted us and said that it hadn’t been Ash he had wanted.

  The idea of Dr. David laying his hands on Ash wasn’t something I could stomach. The fact that he had taken her because of me was unbearable. It had my heart race and forced me to hold a firm grip on the M4 in my hands, because if I didn’t I was afraid, it would show my trembling fingers. The mention of the doctor’s name raised the hairs on the back of my neck and thinking about him made my stomach churn, but the idea of stopping him before he could hurt Ash fueled my determination.

  “All right,” Preston said after we all had loaded up on gear and serum, “slight change of plan.”

  “Is this a change of interpretation of the plan or have you actually received new orders?” Tom said with a smirk. Preston eyed him with a hard stare before he said,

  “You do know that I outrank you or do I have to remind you of that … Corporal.”

  Tom raised his eyebrows, clearly not used to Preston’s new approach. I shot Preston a curious glance. Maybe he felt he needed to reinstate the proper chain of command again, now that it wasn’t just our little team on the line anymore. Not that there hadn’t been a chain of command before, but it hadn’t seemed as if Preston needed to underscore it before. He cleared his throat and I noticed a small tug at the corner of his mouth.

  “I always wanted to do that,” he said, but kept a smirk in check. It seemed he wanted to lift the mood, but not to the extent that it distracted our focus. “Corporal Harding is correct; this is a change of interpretation.”

  Mars shot me an impatient look that also kind of screamed, Who the hell are these guys? and I could tell he was eager to get inside the camp while Tom threw up his hands.

  “You had me scared there for a second,” he said in an exaggerated tone. “I was afraid that stick had finally grown up your ass.”

  “Can we get to the point?” The anger that had edged into Mars’s voice was evident. Some intense glances were shared between the men until Preston decided to break the tension.

  “I figured you’d wanna go after the kid first, so I suggest you take the main entry and comb through the camp with your focus on her,” he said with confidence, but he didn’t seem to want to issue an order. “We’ll circle round and do the same. That way we can cover more ground.”

  “What about Warren?” Tom asked.

  “If we encounter him, we’ll deal with him,” Preston replied. “If not, he comes later.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement, and after we synced our radio frequencies, Preston and Tom took off.

  Angie had been absently watching the exchange and gave me a worried look.

  “How are we going to find her?” she asked. I tried to keep the edge of desperation out of my voice as my eyes swept across the compound, “I don’t know.”

  “That medic, Mike something, told me she was being held in a small building near the softball fields next to the stadium,” Mars said. “He also said he had seen them take her inside a truck and hadn’t seen her after that. The truck is still there, though, so he assumed they’d taken her back to the small building.”

  “So that’s where we start,” Angie added. Both of them readied their weapons and took the first steps toward the entrance to the sports complex. I gripped my weapon with the aim to follow, but hesitated.

  “Did he …” I started to say but faltered. Mars and Angie both turned to face me. “Did he say how she was doing?”

  “I didn’t ask.” My eyes grew wide at the bluntness of his inconsiderate reply. They both must have noticed, because Mars opened his mouth to speak, but Angie beat him to it.

  “Because she’s okay,” she said as she took a step to me. Reaching out a hand, she took hold of my upper arm and tugged on it. “That’s all we need to know, and now we’re going to find her.”

  I briefly closed my eyes and then let Angie pull me forward. She was right. At this point, that was all I had to focus on, and we set off in a jog.

  | 33

  Mags

  We had barely passed the gate before we heard the rat-a-tat of automatic gunfire in the distance. The zombie hordes were getting closer, and it became evident on the faces of the people inside the camp.

  On what used to be a parking lot stood rows and rows of tents, each of which seemed big enough to hold at least twenty people. To our right stood Rabobank Stadium, and from what I had seen from flying over it inside the helicopter, the field looked much the same as the parking lot. The entire grounds had become a field of green tents. In places, shacks stuck out over the temporary housing, tagged with standard signs for public toilets.

  Men, women, and children who had been smart or lucky enough to have fled the East before the Mortem virus could claim them bustled among the tents. Most faces expressed fear as they gathered up their meager belongings or huddled their kids. Some just stared out into oblivion while others flinched at the ongoing gunfire that seemed to be getting closer. Military personnel mingled in their midst as they injected people before marking their faces without too much explanation, and I hoped that wouldn’t cause trouble.

  The helicopters that had brought us here flew on and off, loading up as many people as possible before hauling them off to safety, although that safety would just be another illusion if we couldn’t find Dr. David. He might just as well do this someplace else, for reasons that eluded me.

  Weapons pointed at the ground, we hustled between the rows of tents, careful to dodge the frantic masses of people running around. An explosion that sounded way too close had me flinch as I paced after Mars. Angie jogged by my side and pointed at a small building.

  “That’s where they would have placed her according to that medic,” she said. Ahead of us, Mars stopped and addressed a soldier.

  I noticed a small ramp that gave a pretty good indication why someone would have chosen this place to keep Ash here. Unable to wait, I walked up the concrete path and entered the small structure.

  “Wait up,” Angie called as she followed, but I couldn’t wait and moved down a short corridor. It opened up to a room that looked like a spot where people might have met up after a sports event. Pictures of kids smiling as they played sports littered the walls and acted as a memory to what this place used to be. Now, bunks sat in rows side by side, some neatly made, others total chaos.

  Unfortunately the room sat empty. Except for a piece of clothing here and there, some plastic bags and a cactus, it seemed that everyone had left in a hurry.

  “Now who would bring a cactus to a refugee camp,” Angie asked in a low voice. Although the sharp-edged plant wasn’t something I would have expected to find either, I ignored her question and instead scanned the beds. Ash wasn’t here, but for some reason I needed a sign that she had been. Anything that could help me hang on to the hope of finding her.

  I walked slowly past the bunks and skipped the ones neatly made. Ash wasn’t the type of person who saw the point in making the bed in the morning if you were going to mess it up again at night.

  �
��She’s not here,” Angie said her voice a mere whisper.

  “I know.” My eyes fell on an abandoned shoe between two bunks. “It’s just—”

  The words to finish my sentence eluded me as I caught sight of a door at the other side of the room. I hurried past the rows of beds and barely stopped as I flung the door open. Turning inside another hallway, I found a door on my left that led outside. The door to my right stood open, and I glimpsed a small room. From where I stood, I saw a mattress lying on the floor. With a firm grip on the handle of my weapon, I edged closer. Angie followed closely as I stopped at the entrance to the room.

  Except for the mattress and a pillow, the room sat empty. A small pile of bloodied bandages lay discarded in a corner. Blood had also seeped into the mattress and pillow. It wasn’t enormous amounts of blood, but enough that it had me worried.

  My breath caught as I saw something black sticking out from under the pillow. I entered the room and knelt down by the mattress. My hand was shaking as I pulled the device from under the pillow.

  “What is it?” Angie asked stepping closer. I closed my eyes because I had to focus in order to force the words from my throat.

  “It’s my phone.”

  Ever since she had gotten her hands on it, Ash had never let the damn thing from her sight. She couldn’t have cared less that reception sucked these days. The only thing that mattered was its music library. Music had been Ash’s religion ever since she’d been a little kid and had gotten sick.

  I swallowed hard as Angie placed a hand on my shoulder and looked down at me. The look on her face told me she was thinking the same thing I was. She knew Ash would never have forgotten it.

  “Come on,” she said as she gripped the fabric of my shirt and pulled me to my feet. “They can’t be far.”

  At a sprint, we crossed the room with the rows of beds and through the corridor, until I slammed into Mars at the door.

 

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