First Wave Series Box Set (Books 1-3)

by JT Sawyer

  “I haven’t seen you much lately. How did your talk go with Crawford last night?” she said, running a brush through her long golden curls.

  “He’s still curious about why my mug shot is on a wanted poster. I keep writing it off, but he’s too sharp—he knows I’m hiding something.”

  “How long are you going to keep what Jim told us from him?”

  “I’ve thought about this a great deal—it doesn’t seem like a good idea to reveal to a weary group of survivors who don’t know me that I have a potential vaccine. And, by the way, that’s why I’ve got a bounty on my head.”

  “I think these folks have a right to know about the coming waves of the pandemic…that there could be a cure.”

  “This is bigger than you and me and this place here. There are more players in this game than just Jim, and since someone thinks I’m tied up in this, that puts you and everyone here at risk as long as I stay.”

  “Crawford seems like the kind of straight shooter you can talk to. Maybe he and his people can help your plans move forward, rather than you just wingin’ it alone.”

  He leaned forward. “Look, you’ve got a good thing here, Katy. You can hole up with Crawford and his people until things settle down, and then maybe work on getting back home. As soon as Pete and the rest get back here, I’m gonna push on and try to get back to Denver on my own. The group doesn’t need me anymore. I want to get as far north as possible and hole up in the Four Corners area somewhere before the heavy snows hit, then hoof it back home in the spring.”

  Katy’s hand paused in mid-brushstroke as she stared at Travis. “What about…” Her chin quivered while she searched for words, trying to blot out her own feelings. “What about…the vaccine…the vaccine that Jim had? What are you going to do with that?”

  “I’m headed to Durango first, where there’s supposed to be a research site that Jim told me about. I’ll drop it off there and then my hands are clean of this affair. Afterwards, I can hopefully make it to Denver before the next wave hits.”

  “Really, a lab in the woods? And he just gave you the address and street name while he was dying?”

  Travis removed the metal cylinder from his pocket and tossed it to her. “Those are the coordinates. That’s why I needed to get to the airport and retrieve a topo map of the area around Durango.”

  She opened up the cylinder and read the figures on the yellowing paper with tightly clutched fingers. “So, the river trip is finally over for you, and the clients can go on their way! Just like that,” she said, tossing the cylinder back in his lap as she stood. “Time for Travis Combs to burrow back into himself and go lone wolf on his friends.” She crossed her arms. “You can’t just be a leader one day and then toss that aside when it’s time to pull up stakes.”

  He glanced into her emerald eyes. “Look, this isn’t me,” he said, waving his hand. “What did you think I was going to do—settle down here, carve out a home on this mountainside, and take up ranching? I served my country for years; I served this group. I’m tired of serving! I just want to get back home to my son, alright.”

  “You’ve heard what the large cities are like,” she said, moving forward. “I pray that your son is in good hands, but why don’t we do this together. You don’t have to go it alone and be anyone’s guardian. You always said that it’s the spirit of the people who follow, and the one who leads, that gains the victory.”

  “It was General Patton that said that, and look at what a curmudgeon he was,” Travis said, standing up and moving towards the door.

  She blocked his way, placing her hand on his arm and looking into his eyes. He wanted to pull her into his embrace and let his longings pour out. The muscles in his jaw tightened, then released. He placed one hand over hers, caressing it. “You’ll do fine, Katy Anders. You’re a spirited fighter if ever there was one,” he said. Then he gently lowered her hand, prying his eyes away, and brushed past her on his way out the door.

  Travis headed downstairs into the lobby, where Crawford and several of his men were studying maps on the wall next to an old saloon counter. “Excuse me, may I have a moment of your time,” said Travis.

  Crawford motioned to his men to continue without him. “What’s on your mind since we last spoke?”

  “I’d like to go with you to Winslow in a few days.”

  “Uhm, any reason, or just to tag along and see the outfit up there?”

  “I gotta be honest, you and your people have been gracious hosts, but the thought of my son’s whereabouts keeps gnawing away at me, and I can’t wait any longer. I need to set out towards Denver and get as far as I can before winter sets in,” he said.

  “I see. Well, that’s a surprise,” said Crawford, rubbing his chin. “I can certainly understand wanting to get back home, but I was under the impression that you were going to wait until springtime. What changed your mind?”

  “Look, maybe we can step outside and talk. There are some things you should know.”

  Chapter 31

  The commotion was deafening: the boot heels grinding on shards of broken glass, drunken laughter and brawling, a car horn blowing for no apparent reason while a man swung off a lamppost, yelling at the other men in the street. It was the most activity Flagstaff’s downtown area had seen in the months, since the pandemic caused everyone to shut themselves in, die, or evacuate. Those who were smart enough to get out before Enrique and his gang rolled into town were spared the executions.

  The seven hundred or so brutes who gathered below in the town square were waiting for El Jefe to step out onto the balcony of the Weatherford Hotel and fill them in on their next plan for inflicting pain on others. Most of them had escaped the initial die-off as they were left incarcerated, their prison cells being a safe haven from the massive death toll raging in the cities. About a third of the men were Enrique’s well-trained inner circle, who had been with him for nearly a decade as he butchered and murdered his way to the top of the Sinaloa cartel.

  Fleeing to the isolated confines of Flagstaff had just provided them with a large playground, but it was becoming a prison, and Enrique’s underlings were now finding themselves with the roles of breaking up hourly fights and preventing wanton destruction caused by pent-up ruffians whose only outlet was killing or raping. The only people allowed to leave were the biker patrols that had been scouring the deserts to the west, looking for someone El Jefe had said would make them rich.

  Enrique stepped out onto the balcony to deliver his message and rally the men. Nikki had informed him the night before of the impending arrival of weapons and the stepped-up timeline to crush the ranchers. He was eager to kill again; to have the city under his complete control and, most importantly, to be rid of the nefarious woman whose presence continually tormented him.

  His six-foot-seven figure glowered over the railing as he ran two fingers across his finely trimmed goatee, then extended his hand for the crowd to grow silent. The leather cap over his bald head was pulled down just long enough to cover the tops of his ears. He turned and spit a stream of tobacco onto the wooden porch before turning to the crowd. “Amigos, the mountain air here has spared us the fate of our brothers to the south. This place has kept the virus from spreading, and with your help, we have made this the dominant city in the region. However, there is a growing threat below us. A town of people who think they have the cajones to take what is ours,” he said, clenching the brass railings with both hands.

  “I ask this—haven’t you had enough taken from you in your lives? Haven’t you all suffered enough at the hands of those who lived by a justice system of their own creation, locking you up and looking the other way? A system that they will want to impose upon you once more, if they get a foothold up here?” he said as the crowd’s fervor and shouts increased.

  “We freed you so you could live once more as men, and destroy those who would try to take that away. No longer will you have to be victims of a society that caters only to those misguided fools in charge. Now I will provide yo
u with the tools to bring destruction to those who would oppress you.”

  The throngs of convicts bellowed and clutched their knives, thrusting the blades up, while Enrique smiled. “Our fight is coming in a few days. Then we will crush Sedona and Jerome and reign supreme over the Southwest. My lieutenants will provide you with the information of what is expected of you shortly. Until then, enjoy yourselves, my friends. The world is about to be yours.”

  The crowd roared, and clapping ensued as the greedy mob took to the streets, swinging from light posts and jumping off toppled cars, like a feverish mob infused with an invisible current.

  Enrique walked back inside his loft and poured himself a drink of rum, staring at his image in the wall-sized mirror over the saloon counter. “If only there was real tequila to be had in this city. We brought guns, bikes, and explosives, but no fucking tequila! Now, I must drink this mustard piss instead,” he said to one of his men standing beside the old counter.

  Enrique gazed at his own face in the broken mirror, then poured another glass, spilling a sizeable portion on the glossy counter. He wondered what Mexico looked like as he choked down the vile fluid and slammed the glass into the wall. Then he motioned to his men in the hallway to grab their weapons. They walked down the stairs, descending three floors until they arrived at the hidden passageway beneath the buildings.

  Once they were inside the isolated confines of the narrow walkway, he turned to the five loyal men behind him. “Next, we get the weapons we need from la diabla. Then we crush the vaqueros to the south.” His eyes widened. “Then, when it’s all done, we will hack that blue-eyed bitch to pieces and feed her body to the undead.”

  Chapter 32

  Travis was sitting on the porch steps of the white-trimmed hotel, field stripping his AK, when a procession of horseback riders made their way through the streets below. He jumped up, quickly assembled the rifle, and sped down the cracked blacktop street to meet the convoy.

  He could see Pete’s blond tangle of hair and his smiling face as he approached. Pete nodded. “I hope you got those steaks on the grill already, partner.”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve grown tired of packrat?” he said, smacking Pete on the leg, reaching out to shake his friend’s hand. Then he leaned back and waved down the line to Evelyn, Becka, and LB, who were at the rear.

  Pete looked up at the lofty building ahead that Travis had come from. “Wow, I heard you and Katy were shacked up in a hotel somewhere, but didn’t think you the type to splurge like this.”

  “Not exactly shacked up.”

  “No, not yet, anyway. You ain’t an officer and you ain’t a gentleman, so what’re you waiting for, son?”

  Travis gave out a loud chuckle. He felt a long crease travel up to his forehead and realized he hadn’t laughed in weeks. “Pete, you’re a damn fine sight to see, even if you’re not a woman,” he said, walking alongside the horse as they strode up the hill. “How’s everyone been holding up?”

  “Becka and LB have become quite the trappers and have been doing well. Becka could have stayed out there indefinitely, I think. Evelyn not so much. Her hip is killin’ her most nights, and she’s had a hard time of it. It’s good we’re here. I’m not sure she could have taken much more.”

  “Where are Nora and Rachel?”

  “They stopped down at the river to rest with the other cowboys. They’ll be along soon. Where’s Katy?”

  Travis smirked. “She must be down below in town somewhere. We haven’t spoken much in the last few days.”

  “OK, uhm…I’m sure that will make a good fireside chat tonight.”

  “Yeah, we got some things to talk about. Head to the hotel—someone there will get you situated. After you’ve cleaned up and dragged a brush across that pelt on your head, we can talk, my friend,” Travis said, slowing up while the horses continued on.

  “Righto, brother. See you then.”

  Travis turned and waved to the other riders before making a sharp turn on one of the side streets that led to Main Street. He kept his eyes focused on the numerous people along the sidewalks, hoping to avoid an encounter with Katy. Things had grown tense since their conversation, and he had been sleeping out on the balcony most nights, venturing into their room only to get some gear or a change of clothes.

  A block ahead, he saw Crawford emerge from a red brick building, and sped up to intercept him. “They’re back,” Travis said as he caught the older man on the shoulder.

  Crawford paused and wrinkled his eyebrows, then looked Travis in the eyes. “Good. Then we leave tomorrow morning. Have everything you need and be ready to lift off an hour before sunrise.”

  He nodded as Crawford turned and continued walking down the street. Travis ran his thumb under the leather strap on his AK and retraced his steps, moving with less vigor in his walk as he ascended the road back up to the hotel.

  ***

  A few hours later, the sun was fading over the scrubby mountains to the west, lighting up the Verde Valley below Jerome as Pete entered a side room off the main hotel lobby. Travis was inside, sitting at a small oak table, enjoying a rare meal of grilled beef flank and canned beans.

  “Sit down and get some grub, man,” said Travis.

  “As long as I don’t have to do dishes afterwards.” Pete sat down across the table and dug into a hunk of meat, his eyes ablaze. “Glad we are all back under the same roof.”

  “Yeah, but not for long. I have to talk with you about something, and it’s gonna be an earful.” He paused, putting down his fork. “There are things I never discussed with you about Jim and some coming events that will impact us all.”

  As the last rays of sunlight pierced the stained-glass window beside them, Travis discussed everything he had learned about the virus from Jim, the site in Durango, the undead menace, and his plans to accompany Crawford to Winslow. Over the next hour, Pete alternated between delighting in his meal and letting out long gasps of concern.

  As darkness fell upon the room, Travis got up to light a kerosene lantern and stood by the window, peering into the night. “You know, I had hoped to be on my way back to Denver but, regrettably, this scourge in Flagstaff has to be dealt with first. I had this crazy notion that I would just hitch a ride to Winslow and walk off into the wilds like I’ve always done, making my way back home however I could,” he said, turning and resuming his seat at the table. “Someone in Flagstaff is as interested in getting their hands on the vaccine and the intel as I am in getting rid of it all. As much as I want to get the hell out of here, it seems like all roads lead there for now. Once that threat is quelled, I will be on my way.”

  Pete finished eating and leaned back. “Crawford know all this? From what you’ve described, he seems like a decent leader.”

  “Yep; he’s agreed that we need eyes on the ground in Flagstaff, and that offensive action has to be taken ASAP. His scouts on the periphery have indicated that there’s a buildup of forces happening, along with the recent arrival of more bikers from the west. Plus, whoever is holding the reins on this outfit knows about me, which means they have a long reach beyond the local rabble up there,” he said, twirling a fork around. “Seems like this trip ain’t done with me yet.”

  “And here I thought I’d catch up on my sleep this week,” Pete said, finishing the last of the food on his plate. “You are always in the thick of it, my friend. Lately, it seems if it wasn’t for bad luck, you wouldn’t have any luck at all.”

  “This all needs to stay between us, especially what I’m going to say next,” said Travis. “Crawford is going to insert me outside of Flagstaff tomorrow morning. The vaccine will remain hidden here in a safe location. No one else but Katy, you, and I even know about its existence. I could use someone who knows that town’s innards to draw me up a map of where the storm drains below the university are located,” he said, taking a sip of water. “My plan is to get in and relay some pertinent intel back to Crawford, and see who’s at the top of the food chain there. I was hoping you could ham
mer out a detailed map of the city for me tonight? You know it far better than I do.”

  Pete threw his shaggy mop of blond hair back. “Sure, I can go over the details with you, but I’ll do it from over your shoulder while we’re moving through Flagstaff.”

  “I can sure use your help, but this is a one-man operation. No need to get back on the trail again.”

  “One night indoors is enough for me. Besides, I never did like Jerome, and you’ll need someone to listen to your relationship woes.”

  Travis was silent. He didn’t want to put his friend at further risk, but knew that Pete’s presence could make for a speedy infiltration compared with floundering on his own. “Alright, we’ll meet Crawford at the helos at 0530 tomorrow. Have your usual survival gear, along with seven mags for the AK. I’ll get you a pistol and spare mags to go with it.”

  Both men stood up and moved towards the door. Travis glanced at his friend. “And after this is over, you seriously have to get a haircut, Pete. You’re lookin’ more like a surfer each day.”

  “A haircut, seriously! Then I’ll look like you—no thanks,” he said, and they both chuckled, trying to dispel the nervous tension of the evening and the coming day.

  Chapter 33

  The sound of rotor wash woke Katy from a deep sleep. She sat up, rubbing her eyes as a faint sliver of moonlight trickled in through the window beside Travis’s empty cot. She hadn’t heard him get up and, looking over, saw that his backpack and rifle were gone. Katy quickly dressed and hurried down the hallway to the lobby porch, just in time to see the helo taking off. As it flew past, she saw the subtle outline of Travis, seated next to the open door on the right side. She sped down the steps in his direction, but the helo was already pivoting, flying off to the northeast. She stood still, one hand holding her fluttering hair back, as the image grew smaller in the pre-dawn sky.

  Evelyn was sitting inside, under the glow of kerosene light, as Katy walked back up. There was no hiding the look of anguish on Katy’s face as she pulled up a chair beside the gray-haired woman.