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First Wave Series Box Set (Books 1-3)

Page 32

by JT Sawyer


  “One more mile to the evasion grid and then another half hour circling back to the helo,” said Talia, who was glancing at her watch. “We’ve only got about an hour of daylight left.”

  “I’d rather not be running around in the mountains at night, especially with frozen feet. We don’t know if the helo is still intact,” Skyler said.

  “You saying you want to find a nice hotel and settle in with some RAMs for the night?”

  “Not great options either way, I admit—it’s your call,” he said, bending over to scoop up a handful of water from the river beside a large storm drain. Instead, Skyler jerked backward onto the rocks, hitting with a thud, his blue eyes pooling with blood from the bullet wound in his forehead.

  Talia crouched between two boulders, her mouth going dry as she stared at Skyler’s limp figure. She knew she was next but that her wounds would not be fatal as her pursuers needed her alive to extract intel. As Talia slid back further she could smell the stench of ammonia coming from above as eleven zombies began climbing over the rocks.

  Chapter 12

  The temperature had dropped considerably since Travis and the group arrived at the small trading post. All night long as he tried to sleep, flurries of leaves, whipped by a cold north wind, rustled against the window of the cabin near his tattered bunk bed. The thick adobe walls kept the interior moderately warm so they didn’t have to risk the smoke from a fire in the corner woodstove. Katy was half asleep slumped in a wicker chair in the opposite corner beside Becka, who lay motionless on a couch.

  As the first rays of dawn stabbed through a ragged curtain on the window, Travis peered over at the young girl. He could see that her breathing was barely perceivable and her complexion was still pale. Her hair, which had always been neatly brushed, was matted from the constant application of cold washcloths they had been placing on her forehead during the night.

  It had been thirty-six hours since she was bitten in Mexican Hat and she showed little sign outwardly of the virus progressing. They had used the last of the morphine to keep her sedated. Katy had procured an IV bag from Rob's trauma kit and placed it on Becka to keep her hydrated.

  Thank God she is still knocked out. If I didn’t know she had been bitten by one of those things, I’d say she just has the flu. How come she hasn’t turned yet—it’s been long enough. Maybe the drugs are keeping the spread of the virus in check. He turned over on his bed and saw the sunlight streaming through the double-paned window above and realized he needed to get moving. His goal was to set out on foot for Durango and make it halfway by the end of the day. Karl, Rachel, and Nora were going to accompany him. Travis had to force his weary body into an upright position and remind himself of what lay ahead. He could feel an old injury in his left knee throbbing and the pull of scar tissue in his back from another former wound. Travis just wanted to lie back down and sleep. Instead, he shook his head and focused on Becka. There will be time to rest another day, old boy. Must keep moving. Stay on task.

  He put on his boots and started lacing them while trying to force away the discomfort from his injuries. As he stood up to stretch, Rachel swung open the wooden door and rushed into the cabin. Her lips were trembling as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Travis, you need to come outside,” she said with a shrill voice. “There’s been an accident. Rob is dead.”

  “What—where?” he said, grabbing his coat and rifle.

  “Over by the canyon. It looks like he fell off the edge.”

  Travis glanced over at Katy, who had jumped up at Rachel’s abrupt entrance. “Stay put. I’ll let you know what’s going on when I get back.”

  He bolted out the door and into the icy breeze sweeping across the mesa to his left. Rachel led him to the edge of a small canyon twenty yards away, behind the cabin where the others had gathered. As he neared the cliff, Travis looked down and saw Rob’s corpse splayed on a tangle of sandstone boulders eighty feet below. The ground around was soiled red and ravens were picking away at the soft flesh on the man’s face and neck.

  “What the hell happened?” he shouted into the wind to the group behind him.

  “I saw Rob head out around dawn and when he didn’t come back, I went looking for him,” said Pete. “I thought he was just stepping out to take a leak but then figured he might have gone to the cabin. I followed his tracks and found him lying below.”

  Travis glanced down at Rob’s mangled corpse and then back up at the others. “Anyone else see anything?”

  “Most of us were sleeping inside the trading post, except for me. I was on guard duty around the front but it was so cold I stayed in the bus most of the time,” said Karl. “He must have wandered over to the canyon in the dark and fallen.”

  “Why would he be out here in the dark?” said Nora, who had her hands tucked in her sleeves, out of the cold.

  “I’m not sure. He was an odd duck for sure but who knows what he was thinking,” said Travis. The sun was rising higher over the rimrock to the east but the early rays did nothing to alleviate the piercing fingers of the wind. “Let’s head back inside for now. Nothing we can do for him now. We’ve gotta prep for our departure.”

  As they headed back, Travis pulled Rachel and Pete aside. “I want you to oversee the gear and weapons prep for our journey and keep the others occupied,” he said to Rachel. “Pete and I are gonna climb down and inspect Rob’s body. This is just too damn bizarre to shrug off as a mere fall.”

  “OK, you got it. What about Katy? Is she going to be alright being alone with Becka?”

  “Good point—have Dane head over to the cabin and tell Katy I’ll be back shortly.”

  As Rachel walked towards the trading post, Pete and Travis returned to the rim and began scurrying down an angular heap of lichen-covered boulders. As they approached Rob’s body, they could see bloodstains on several rocks where he had impacted on the way down before arriving at his final resting spot.

  As the two men approached, the ravens flew off, their figures quickly plucked aloft by the harsh winds. Travis rolled over the body and saw splintered fragments of bone sticking through the man’s forehead and arms. He scanned the torso and then knelt down and opened up Rob’s black jacket. He searched the interior pockets, pulling out any supplies they could use. Prying open the Velcro closure on the side pocket, he pulled out a compact green device the size of a bar of soap, with a small LED screen and collapsible antenna.

  “Well, what have we here?” he said, glancing up at Pete.

  Travis flipped it over and pressed the power button. The LED screen illuminated and the last message pulled up: “Durango final point. Exact grids unknown.”

  “So we’ve had a fucking mole in our group this whole time,” Travis said.

  “This doesn’t make sense—if he’s been relaying messages on our whereabouts, then why haven’t they made a move on us yet?” said Pete.

  “I’m not sure but that’s a personal location beacon that only transmits one way, via satellite. Maybe because I have the final grids in my head and they were waiting for us to lead them to it. Whatever the reason, our position here is compromised. We’re all gonna have to pull up stakes and be on our way, ASAP.”

  “This still doesn’t explain what the hell he’s doing down here. I’ve heard of people taking a plunge off a cliff before on windy days but the timing is what’s puzzling,” said Pete, handing the device back to Travis.

  “Who knows—time to ponder that later. Right now, we gotta pack up and head cross-country to gain some time and distance.” As Travis went to stand he glanced down at Rob’s hands. He grabbed the limp right wrist by the jacket sleeve and lifted it up. “You see this,” Travis said, staring at the fingers. “He’s got blood and skin fragments under his nails.” He dropped the hand and stood, panning his head up towards the canyon rim. “He didn’t just fall. He was shoved and grabbed onto that person for help.”

  “Well, there are only two people left in this equation—Dane and Karl. But which one?”
r />   Travis looked back at Pete. “Let’s head up and find out. Then they can earn their spot here as raven fodder.”

  The two men bounded up the slope and crested the canyon ridge. As they made their way across the gritty sandstone pathway to the trading post, they heard the hum of approaching rotors to the southwest. Travis darted to a nearby cottonwood tree and scanned the horizon beyond the buildings. “Shit, so much for evading cross-country. Looks like we’re gonna be duking it out here.”

  Chapter 13

  Travis ran for the door of the trading post and jerked it open. “Two Blackhawks are moving in on us. You’ve got three minutes to find a defensible position and saddle up. Find a window and stack your magazines and trauma kit beside you.” While everyone scrambled for their gear, Travis rushed in the opposite direction to the cabin and burst inside. “Dane, help me move Becka over to the trading post; there’s a major shitstorm headed our way.”

  They lifted Becka’s mattress and transported her across the narrow passage between the two buildings while Katy held the IV bag in place. They gently placed her in the back room of the building beside an old safe and a cast-iron sink. Katy settled in beside her while the others dropped into their positions by the front and side windows, with Pete covering the rear.

  Travis kneeled by the middle window, smashing out the glass with the butt of his MK12 sniper rifle and then thrusting the muzzle out the wooden pane. After scanning the distant hillsides, he did a quick glance over his shoulder to his left and saw Nora, then over to his right at Karl, who had his M4 over the edge of a nearby window. As Travis pivoted to focus on his rifle scope, he caught sight of Karl’s forearm, which had slid out from his jacket. It bore the tattoo of a green-and-yellow serpent, across which were three parallel lacerations with recently dried blood.

  Travis could hear the low drone of the approaching helos which would be on the ground in another thirty seconds. He looked out the window and back at Karl, then he pulled his Glock out and thrust it into Karl’s neck.

  “How many are coming for us, Karl—if that’s your real name?”

  Karl went to pull his rifle back and Travis pressed the Glock further into the soft flesh above the man’s collar. “How many?”

  The frozen expression on Karl’s face slowly betrayed a grin. “You know how many people are on a strike team, Travis. After all the black-ops you ran for Logan, you should comprehend how this is gonna go down.”

  “Who the fuck are you? One of Nikki’s men?”

  “Does it matter? I’m just a part of a long chain of misery that you’ve gotta climb.”

  “You thought you’d plant the goods on Rob and leave him for dead to throw us off your trail, eh?”

  “Nobody would care about that self-centered bastard dying. He was a perfect distraction. If he hadn’t come across me relaying my message by the canyon rim, he’d probably still be here whining like the bitch he was.”

  Dane had moved over and was shooting a puzzled glance at Travis. “What’s going on—what the hell’s he talkin’ about?”

  “He’s the filthy cur who’s called in the rain upon us. Grab his rifle and weapons and tie him up. Maybe we can still use him for leverage.”

  Dane yanked the M4 out of Karl’s hands and removed his tactical vest while Travis pressed the Glock against the man’s head. Karl smiled as Dane secured his wrists with paracord. “Your little band is about to get mowed down by Nikki. They don’t care about you anymore, hero. By now Pallas is doing infrared thermal imaging of Durango to locate that secret lab. All they need to put the icing on my message is that precious vaccine that they’ll be yanking out of your lifeless hands soon,” Karl said, pressing his back into the wall.

  “Nikki is dead. You can have the headstone next to hers in Flagstaff so I don’t have as far to walk when I’m pissin’ on both your graves.”

  “Dead…alive…it matters little. My message was sent and the storm troopers are about to strafe your ass. What Pallas wants, Pallas gets—and you, and hell, even me, are just their dirty pawns in this new global war. The RAMs are just an unpleasant side-effect of what’s really to come, bro.”

  Travis fixed his gaze on the two Blackhawks which had just landed side by side in a grassy field across from the trading post. Surely they must know we’d be waiting for them. Why did they land in such an exposed formation? he thought. Their people will get mowed down.

  Travis shouted to Pete, who was at the back window of the building. “You got any movement back there, amigo?”

  “No—nothing,” said Pete.

  It is unlikely they will use the rear for approach as the canyon makes that route a vulnerable line of attack. What are they up to—going to try and negotiate the vaccines from me?

  Travis searched the terrain to the right and left for any movement that might indicate a team had been surreptitiously inserted but there wasn’t any sign of boots on the ground. The side door on the left Blackhawk opened and a tall man stepped out in a black helmet and face mask with his hands raised. The man removed his rifle and pistol, placing them on the seat inside the helicopter, then proceeded to slowly walk forward.

  Everyone inside the trading post readied their rifles and Travis could hear the nervous exhalation of Nora to his left. “Stay frosty and hold your fire, everyone,” he said.

  Travis fixed his rifle scope on the lone figure that was slowly walking towards them. The man kept his hands raised as he cautiously strode across the gravel road and entered the parking lot. Travis leaned back and grabbed Karl by his ear, twisting hard and pulling him forward. “Get up here and ID this guy for me.”

  Travis thrust Karl against the window sill. The man’s eyes went wide as he stared at the advancing figure, who had just removed his helmet. Karl gasped, trying to pull his head back. “Fuck me….no…not him…not him…”

  “Who? What’s his name?”

  “No….no…shit,” muttered Karl.

  Travis shoved the man to the ground and peered out the window, staring up at the approaching face of his old commander.

  Chapter 14

  The front door of the trading post swung open and Travis aimed his AK into the chest of Logan.

  “Damn, that’s the surly mug I was hoping to see today,” said Logan, who was smiling.

  “Logan—what the hell are you up to?” Travis said, sending a glance beyond the man and scanning for movement on either side of the entrance. “Get your ass inside,” said Travis as he yanked him into the building.

  He pushed Logan into the back room opposite Katy and Becka, while the others kept watch through the front windows.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve been searching for you, old friend. The strain in my chest just eased up. What a wild ride through the desert and mountains you’ve taken me on.”

  Travis stepped forward, shoving the muzzle of the AK into Logan’s vest. “Let me tell you about a wild fucking ride. Me and my people have been surviving like dogs for months and fighting battles that cost us many good friends, and all because you saw fit to weave me into your nefarious plans.”

  “I knew, with your resolve and temper, that you were the right guy to send Pearson to,” said Logan, leaning against the hewn stone wall. “I just didn’t think it would take this long to catch up with you.”

  “I left your unit a while back, remember?”

  “Your country—hell, the world needed you, my friend.”

  “We were never friends—stop saying that. You’ve always treated the people in your unit like a team of horses under one whip.”

  “Regardless, here we are—together again, it seems,” said Logan, looking at Travis and then down at the barrel of the rifle.

  Travis lowered his weapon, though his posture was still rigid.

  “Who is this guy?” said Katy, who was sitting on the floor. “Is he one of them—the people that were after you in Flagstaff?”

  “No, not quite, miss. I’m one of the good guys…like Travis here. In better times, he worked under my comma
nd.”

  “Whatever you are…I’ll decide later…for now you’re probably the one chance I have of saving this young lady’s life,” Travis said, pointing to Becka in the corner. “She was bitten the night before last and we’ve kept her sedated in the hopes I could get the vaccine to Durango and find a cure for her—and the rest of this godforsaken world.”

  “Then let’s roll. I didn’t come here for the turquoise jewelry sale on the sign outside. I can take you and one more person on the helos we have.

  “I’m not going anywhere until I can be sure that the rest of my group is taken care of,” said Travis with narrow eyes.

  “I have two more Blackhawks about thirty clicks to the west of here. I can have them extract your team and take them to our secure location in Montrose. You can meet up with them later, after we’ve acquired the completed vaccine.”

  Travis looked back at Katy and into the front room, where the rest of his weary-eyed group kept nervously looking back at him. “Alright, do it. Call in the other birds. When they arrive and my people are safely airborne, we can head to Durango.”

  Logan pressed his hand to his earpiece and relayed the orders, then he pulled up a chair and sat down. Travis slung his AK on his chest and turned towards the others. “You all heard what’s gonna happen, so stand down for now. Soon, you’ll be heading north to Logan’s headquarters and this grueling ordeal will be over.”

  “What about this dude?” said Dane, who was standing guard over Karl.

  “I’m sure Logan will have some use for him back in his little shop horrors, isn’t that right, Logan?”

  Logan peered around the corner and glanced at Karl. “One of Nikki’s henchmen, eh. Nice catch. Surely he’s got an embedded transponder or tracking chip in his epidermis. Maybe we can use that to our advantage to lure Pallas into my clutches, if they’re not already headed this way.”

 

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