Caldera 5_United We Fall

by Heath Stallcup

  Will smiled. “Let’s take a look at those.”

  Hatcher took the lead and walked him to the rear of the shop. Stanton paused when his beam fell across the box. “Well, shit.”

  “Something the matter?”

  Stanton squatted beside the box. “These are made in China.” He tapped the side of the box with the flashlight. “That’s not to say that they’ll work or not, but I wouldn’t want to bet my life on it.” He stood and sighed heavily.

  “There’s other stuff over here.” Hatcher pushed open a large metal door and flashed his light inside. “Is this what you’re talking about?”

  Will poked his head in the storage room and a slow smile formed. “That is exactly what we need.” He opened the large white box and his smile broadened. “These are the inverters and yes, it’s more than enough to power what you have in mind.”

  “What about the batteries?”

  Will flashed his light around the room and shook his head. “Unless they stored them elsewhere, I don’t see them.” He spun slowly in the room, examining everything. “Maybe they were waiting on them to be delivered when all of this happened.”

  Hatcher grabbed a dolly and began to stack the inverters on it. “Are we going to need all of them?”

  Stanton nodded. “What we don’t use we can keep as spare parts.” He held the door open and counted the boxed panels while Hatcher wheeled the inverters to the loading dock. “I think this will be more than adequate as long as we aren’t trying to run a lot of heavy loads.”

  “What do you consider a heavy load?” Hatcher parked the dolly beside the roll-up door and reached to unlock it.

  “Clothes dryers, air conditioning units, welders, things like that.”

  Hatcher glanced back through the shop. “They have some pretty heavy-duty equipment in there. If they were planning to power all of that…”

  “But it doesn’t all run at once.” Stanton waved him over. “Most of this shop is run on manual labor, hence the numerous work stations. The saws, the sanders, the drill presses, they work intermittently. If you have fifty units and they all try to run their air conditioners at once…” He raised a brow at him.

  “What about fans?”

  “They’re considered a low load. We should be fine.”

  Hatcher clapped the man’s back. “Thanks, Will. I’ll get the boys over here to load these on a flatbed first thing in the morning. You tell me how many backs you need and I’ll see to it that you have them.”

  “Let me check the site first. It could be as little as five or as many as twenty. I really need to see how many southern facing roofs we have.”

  “I’ll have Wally take you out there in the morning.”

  “On the way back, perhaps we can stop at a home store or a hardware supply. We’ll need some heavy duty wiring.”

  Hatcher paused. “Then I’d better make sure you have a strong security detail with you as well. You never know who…or what you might run into.”

  Broussard pushed away from his workstation and rubbed at his eyes. “I must have rest.” He looked to Carol and gave her a sad smile. “I am almost done with the preliminary work, but my mind is too exhausted to continue.”

  “I understand, Doctor.” She reached for his lab coat and helped him slip it off. “I’ll walk you to your room. It’s just down the hall from mine.”

  Broussard dumped the last of his umpteenth coffees into the sink and stretched his neck. His eyes fell on the isolation ward. “Should we check on him before we retire?”

  She shook her head. “Let’s let him rest.” She took the lead and opened the door to the lab. “We can check on him in the morning.”

  “Very well.” Broussard fell into step behind her. He noticed only two people working the lab during the wee hours. “Somebody is here at all times?”

  She nodded as she tugged her own lab coat off. “Yes. That way somebody can keep notes on all of the experiments. And if there are any problems, there’s somebody here to address it.” She led him to his room and she held the door for him. “Shortly after we set up here, we had an incident with a fire. I don’t know if it was a gas burner or what, but it caused a small issue. The Navy said we either had to have a fire watch or somebody on the staff here at all times. Dr. LaRue chose to have the staff work in shifts.”

  “That does make more sense than allowing an untrained individual into the lab. They could potentially do more harm than the fire.”

  “Exactly her thinking.” Carol stepped back and gave him a tired smile. “I’ll see you in the morning, doctor.”

  He shut the door as she turned to leave. When she heard the door click behind her she went back to the lab and straight to the isolation ward. She opened the door slightly and heard Charles hiss as the light washed into the room.

  She quickly shut the door and stepped beside him. “I’m sorry. Did the light hurt your eyes?”

  He nodded groggily. “Even with my eyes shut…”

  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness she nearly gasped. “Doctor Carpenter…your skin.”

  Charles cracked an eye open and held a hand up as high as he could with the shackles still attached. “I don’t…” He stopped midsentence as he rotated his hand. He could see the deep purple lines through ghostly pale skin. “What…what’s happened to me?”

  “I don’t know but I’m sure it’s reversible.” She sat gingerly and pushed closer to him. “It almost appears as though the skin is losing its melanin. She reached for his hand and turned it slowly in the low light.

  “Okay, now I’m frightened.”

  “Let me see.” She leaned in closer and tried to see better using the light from a nearby monitor. She pulled her pen light and held it up. “Just for a moment, okay?”

  He turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut. She clicked the penlight on and ran her finger gently across the skin of his hand. “Remarkable.”

  As soon as she clicked the light off he opened his eyes and looked to her. “What’s remarkable?”

  “Even your nails are…pale.” I squeezed gently and when I removed my thumb the area I squeezed went from white to bright pink and then back. So, the good news is, your blood is still red.”

  “I’m turning albino.”

  She gave him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure it’s temporary. Probably a side effect of the retrovirus.”

  Charles shook his head and squeezed his eyes tight again. “My head hurts so bad…”

  She glanced over her shoulder to the frequency generator. Although she couldn’t hear it, she knew that it was running. “Let me check the gennie.”

  She adjusted the knob and he winced. “Hold on. Just fine tuning it.”

  He threw his eyes open and arched his back as though in pain then suddenly sighed and laid back down. “That’s the one. Right there…”

  She made a note in the frequency change then stood. “I need to check on something. If I don’t see you again tonight, I’ll be by first thing in the morning.”

  He nodded weakly and she let herself out. She marched to the file cabinet and pulled the records for the test subjects. She glanced around the lab then held the records up. “Are you keeping the logs on the test subjects?”

  The researcher shook his head. “I think Dr. LaRue is, but I can’t be certain.”

  Carol sighed. If it were left to Vivian LaRue, they could be worthless. She tucked the file under her arm and left the lab. The containment area was only three doors down. She slipped inside and pulled the curtain open to observe the subjects.

  She gasped with horror and stepped away from the blood-smeared window. A lone subject sat in the corner of the room, pressing his palms tightly to the sides of his head, and the other test subjects were ripped, torn and chewed to pieces. He had gaping wounds on his arms, chest and legs, but he was the lone survivor.

  Carol swallowed hard as he eyes noted the smears of dried blood, fecal matter and bits of flesh hanging from him. But what really frightened her was the pallor of his skin. D
eep blue and purple lines traced under the skin made it look even more pale.

  She flipped the chart open and noted the last entry. The subjects had been fed just that morning. All were reported status quo, no change in condition or in behavior.

  She dropped the folder on the desk beside the viewing window and bolted for the door. She darted across the hallway to the ‘cured’ subject. He had been given his own isolation ward with a bed, desk, private toilet and a television. All that they could offer him was a DVD player and a stack of movies for entertainment.

  She pulled open the door and reached for the curtain blocking the viewing window to his room. She noted that the room appeared somewhat normal. The bed still wasn’t made but the furniture was still upright. The ‘cured’ subject wasn’t in view though. She craned her neck to the side, hoping to see the door to the restroom. It appeared closed.

  She tapped on the glass, hoping he might hear her. She noted no movement.

  With shaking hands, she reached for the lock when a light appeared in the window. She stepped back and looked into the room. She watched the ‘cured’ subject turn off the light to the restroom then flop onto his bed. He rested his arms behind his head and stared at the black and white movie playing on the television.

  Carol sighed heavily and leaned against the door. After gathering herself, she pulled the curtain closed, hoping he couldn’t hear the activity behind the two way mirror. She stepped back into the hallway and glanced down the hall to Vivian LaRue’s stateroom.

  She needed to know that she’d lost all but one of the test subjects. She groaned to herself as she pushed off of the wall. “Time to shoot the messenger.”

  “Give me my gun!” Shooter all but screamed.

  “When pigs fly.” Sinner turned and pulled his AR up to his shoulder. “It’s your damned fault they found us.”

  Stinky waved at him and spoke in a whisper. “Get away from the window. Maybe they don’t know exactly where we are.”

  Sinner ground his teeth at the man but slipped to the far side. He could still glimpse out the bay window and he could cover more than three fourths of the approach from where he was.

  He squinted in the moonlight and swore he could see ghostly shapes flitting about between the houses in the complex. Sinner shouldered his AR and brought the barrel to bear on the closed window. Shooter stepped behind him and peered around his massive form. “Don’t shoot, man. Not unless they try to get in.”

  “Don’t tell me what to—”

  “What in the hell is going on out here?” Simon staggered out of the hallway and into the living room. “What’s with all of the screaming?”

  “Shh!” Stinky was beside him, whispering in his ear. “We have company. Outside.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.

  Simon sighed and pulled the big 10MM from the back of his waistband. “Let ‘em come.” He marched through the living room and set up watch through the dining room window on the opposite side. “I don’t see nothing.”

  Another scream echoed between the buildings and all of the men felt their hair stand on end.

  Shooter slid to the floor and crawled to Simon. “Give me my gun back. I’ll be good, I promise. I just don’t want to be eaten.”

  Simon glanced down at the man then nodded to Stinky. “Give him his piece.”

  Stinky rifled through the duffel and pulled the 9MM Glock out. He tossed it to the sofa along with a spare magazine. “Make each shot count.”

  “Don’t be shooting unless they…” Sinner trailed off. He slipped back to the wall, cutting off more of his view through the bay window. He held his hand up with two fingers up. He pointed to his eyes, then back toward the front yard.

  “Shit.” Simon whispered. He slid down the wall until just the top of his head was visible through the dining room window.

  A loud bang was heard outside the house as though a Crazy had launched himself against the door. Sinner released the safety on the rifle and pointed it towards the front door.

  The men inside could hear kicking and scratching at the door and one could almost imagine a very large dog trying to get in. A moment later there was a scream in the garage and glass could be heard breaking.

  Simon’s head snapped around and his stomach dropped. He could imagine a Crazy digging through the back of the truck and tossing his precious liquor bottles out in search of a meal. He slowly stood, his jaw set.

  Another scream was heard at the front door before the scurrying sound of feet announced the creature’s departure. Whatever was in the garage made a crashing noise as it left.

  Sinner slid closer to the window and watched as four pale figures bolted across the yards and deeper into the subdivision. He visibly relaxed and slumped against the wall. “I think they’re gone.”

  “For now.” Stinky lowered his shaking hands and flipped the safety back on his pistol.

  Shooter slid to the floor and hung his head between his knees. “I hate them things.” Stinky marched across the room and pulled the pistol from his grip. Shooter’s head shot up. “Hey! What if they come back?”

  Simon grabbed the pistol from Stinky and handed it back to Shooter. “Be smart. Don’t make me have to kill you.”

  Shooter reached out slowly and took the pistol. “I won’t.” He swallowed and looked to the other two men. “I’m with you Simon.” He slowly came to his feet and met the drunkard’s gaze. “Safety in numbers, right?”

  Simon slapped the man’s shoulder. “One day with us and you’re getting smarter already.”

  21

  Hatcher watched as the two trucks pulled away from the warehouse. He sipped at his instant coffee and pulled the collar up on his coat. The early morning chill told him that the seasons were definitely changing.

  “What’s going on?”

  Hatcher gave Roger a slight nod. “That engineer is going to check the retirement home for what he’ll need to get power hooked up. The other truck is going after supplies.”

  Roger gave him a puzzled look. “What supplies?”

  “Stuff they’ll need to hook up the solar panels. Batteries and what not.” Hatcher took another drink from the cup then poured out the last bit. “They’re also looking for stuff to beef up the wall around it.”

  Roger snorted a laugh. “You mean a portcullis?”

  Hatcher shook his head. “I’ll be happy to get some barbed wire strung up across the top.”

  “Yeah, about that. I wanted to show you something.” He waved Hatcher over toward his office. “I remembered something after we last spoke. I don’t remember where I saw it, but I thought that since we couldn’t get razor wire…” He pulled out a legal pad. “I saw this somewhere. I’m sure we could make something similar.”

  Hatcher took the crude pencil drawing and looked at it. It was simple braces set at a forty-five degree angle with three rows of wire stretched across it. “Yeah, I think I’ve seen stuff like this before.”

  “It’s not the big coils of razor wire, like the prisons have, but with it angled outward like that? It would be damned hard to cross.”

  Hatcher handed him back the drawing. “Take this to the guys at the metal fabrication and see if they can create something that will work. If they can, we could have that wall ready before the people can pack their stuff.”

  “I’ll get it to them.” He paused and squinted in the early morning sun. “How soon are you thinking we can get moved?”

  “Within a week, I hope.” Hatcher sighed heavily and it looked like the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders. “First we have to make sure the well isn’t dry over there. Then we need to get the walls reinforced.”

  “Don’t forget the moat.” Roger tried not to smile.

  Hatcher shook his head and looked to see if Wally or Hank were in hearing distance. “I don’t give two shits if that thing is ever dug. If we can get the walls secured and maybe something a little stouter than those decorative wrought iron gates, I’m happy.”

  Roger turned and looked to
ward the armory. “Are there enough weapons that each man can keep a weapon in their room?”

  Hatcher thought about it and nodded slowly. “If not all, darn close. Why?”

  “Considering that it’s a new place and we can’t be certain how the Zulus will react, we should consider having every living space equipped with weapons.”

  Hatcher had to agree. “At least until the defenses are tested a time or two.”

  Vicky approached the pair and slid an arm around her brother’s shoulder. “Are you two talking security stuff? I heard somebody mention weapons.”

  “We’re bouncing ideas for after the move.” Roger explained.

  “I have an idea.” She turned to Hatcher and raised a brow. “I hear rumors that we’re going to have reliable power there? People are excited about hot and cold running water.”

  Hatcher shrugged, wishing that people wouldn’t get their hopes up too soon. “We’re going to try.”

  “I have a theory that we might can test out.”

  “Hit me.”

  Vicky took a deep breath. “You know how we looked at the dead Zulu and the skin was so…pale? We think they’re avoiding sunlight, right?”

  Hatcher nodded. “That’s what you said.” He narrowed his gaze at her. “Why?”

  She smiled at him. “I think we should gather up a few different kinds of outdoor floodlights. If they show up again before we bug out, we can see if they react to any of the lighting. If they do, and if we have the power, we should think about setting up large security lights around the perimeter. As a deterrent.”

  Hatcher glanced at Roger who was nodding slowly. “Like a UV light against a vampire.”

  Hatcher’s face twisted in confusion. “A what?”

  Roger laughed. “Have you never watched a vampire movie? The guys that hunt them down all have UV flashlights or search lights or something. They use it to hurt the vampires.”

  Hatcher shook his head. “First a moat, now vampires.” He glanced to Vicky. “Get a load of this guy, would ya?”