THE EXTINCTION PANDEMIC
Book design by Christopher Blake
Edited by Abigail M. and J. Scott Wilson
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
Printed in the United States of America
ISBN-13: 978-1496096722
ISBN-10: 149609672X
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my wife and two children. I would do anything for them. I would go above and beyond. I would defend them against any threat and I would do whatever it takes to survive. Even if it meant facing a horde of infected or a band of marauders…
Contents
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Epilogue
A Word from the Author
Roster of Hatchery Compound Survivors
BOOK 1 OF THE HATCHERY COMPOUND
THE EXTINCTION PANDEMIC
A POST APOCALYPTIC NOVEL
GRAYSON HAWKINS
Chapter One
Outside of Mexicali, Baja California, Mexico
Joseph Miller didn’t exactly like his job. Well, he wouldn’t exactly call it a job either. He did it because it made him a lot of money. He performed his duties like everything he did in life, with a ridiculous amount of detail and care.
You wouldn’t know it from his calm, suave, appearance, but Joseph was a smuggler who ferried illegal drugs into the United States across the Mexican border.
He had driven drugs across the border in a modified van for over five years. Before that he had been a prominent member in the Chicago Mafia. He was in charge of getting cocaine through Canada, across the Great Lakes and into Chicago. This of course was no easy task, and because Joseph could get just about anything smuggled, this separated him from the rest of his kind.
He was so detailed and well-rehearsed that he could spin layer after layer of deceit as he staged his smuggling operations, so much so that he could have fooled himself. After years of dedicated service to the mob, he was forced to flee Chicago.
Someone had set him up from within his own operation. Hundreds of thousands of dollars in drugs had disappeared from his boat. Of course, his boss blamed Joseph for the missing drugs, and since he wasn’t particularly curious about what it would be like to be tortured by the Mob, he had fled across the country to southern California. After hopping around in smaller towns across southern California, he had settled in El Centro.
El Centro made the perfect base of operations for his latest smuggling operation. He didn’t make nearly as much money as when he worked for the Mob, but he still made a good living.
Thus far, the understaffed Border Patrol had neglected to give a shit about him and his van, and he had made more than his fair share of runs between Mexico and the United States. His van did help, of course, because it was outfitted with hidden compartments that were meant to look like large toolboxes. The outside of the van read Mike’s Handyman Service and the small group of Border Patrol agents hadn’t bothered him too much.
He looked like every other hard-working white man, crossing back and forth to do a job. His fake license was registered in El Centro, which was right across the border, and since it wasn’t uncommon for Americans to travel across the border for work, Joseph cruised on through.
Today, however, had suddenly taken a detour from the rest of his smuggling operations. After arriving at the home of his supplier, a prominent cartel leader, he was swiftly removed from his van, drug across the lawn, and thrown into a chair.
Across the table sat Julio Garcia, and in front of Julio was a .357 revolver. Julio did not look very happy. In fact, Julio had a bead of sweat running down his face, despite the cool springtime weather. His eyes were bloodshot and bulging slightly from his eye sockets.
This was entirely different from Joseph’s normal interaction with the man. On a typical day they would share a cerveza and shoot the shit. Today, Julio was all business, and it freaked Joseph out.
Joseph wasn’t sure what to say. He knew that Julio Garcia was a little fucked up in the head, but he had never had a gun on the table and looked like complete shit. Something was off with the man today, something was seriously wrong.
Julio saw Joseph eyeing the handgun and put it away. “Sorry Joe, I’m a little under the weather today. Feeling a little loco you know,” Julio said.
“I see,” Joseph said with a pause, “How can I help you today Julio?”
“I need a favor from you my friend,” Julio said.
Joseph was slightly confused as to what Julio might need. He had never asked for any favors, but Joseph was intrigued.
“My sons are both very sick. They have been sick for weeks and the Mexican doctors can’t do shit for them,” Julio told Joseph.
“What exactly do you want me to do about it?” Joseph asked.
“I want you to smuggle them into America and take them to an American hospital!” Julio said, as spittle flew from his mouth.
Joseph tried to keep his composure as the spit landed on his face. Then, when he had regained his composure, he thought it through. He had smuggled people before, so it wasn’t really a problem for him, but of course he would want an additional fee.
“I can do that for you Julio. My fee would be $10,000 per person. Will it be just the children?” Joseph asked.
Julio stared at Joseph, and thought silently for a minute. Joseph wasn’t sure if Julio contemplated whether he should pay Joseph, or shoot him on the spot.
In the end, Julio said, “My wife will be going as wel
l, and I will pay your fee Joseph, but rest assured if you fail to bring my family to a hospital in America, you will pay me back with your life.”
Joseph said, “I will get them there safely Julio, you know that you can count on me.”
Julio snapped his fingers and one of his men ran over to the table. He whispered to his man, and sent him on his way.
Within only a few minutes there was a duffel bag with thirty thousand dollars on the table, which covered each child and Julio’s wife.
The two men were able to shake hands and head toward Joseph’s vehicle. As Joseph walked with Julio and his extra thirty thousand dollars, he felt slightly uneasy about the task, though he didn’t know why. When he got close to his van, he saw that a pair of Julio’s men stood next to this trip’s precious cargo, Julio’s wife and two children.
Joseph walked up to Julio’s family members and introduced himself while he was careful not to physically touch them. He wasn’t exactly sure what the children were sick with, and he didn’t want to catch it.
After he introduced himself, it was time to get to work unloading his van, while Julio said goodbye to his family. Joseph started removing all of the refuse that he kept in the back to make the work van look like he had just come back from a long day.
To speed up the task, Joseph asked Julio’s men to help him unload cabling, pipes, 5-gallon buckets, trash, wood, and an assortment of other junk. They removed piles of fiberglass panels and ductwork. Lastly, he removed the bags labeled asbestos and lead abatement. Of course they were only filled with shredded paper, but the authorities had never checked so the secret was safe with him.
Making the back of the van look like he had just gutted someone’s house was half of his ploy. The other half was ensuring that anyone who searched the vehicle stayed the hell away from everything. Nobody wanted to search through bags of lead and asbestos, not without a hazmat suit anyway.
Joseph had been stopped and checked quite a few times during his time on the southern border. The Border Patrol would typically open up the back doors on his van, search around with their lights, move around some bags, but generally they would stop there. Not one single Border Patrol agent had really dug into anything.
Joseph guessed that the Border Patrol didn’t see the point. To them, he was just another white guy crossing the border with a van full of shit. As far as Joseph was concerned, that was fine with him.
After getting the van unloaded, the real secret was out in the open. The large tool chests and bottom of the van were all fake and removable. Inside they were hollow and capable of holding large amounts of cargo. In this particular trip, they would have to hold Julio’s family.
It would be a tight squeeze to get them inside the compartments, but they would be able to make the trip across the border.
Joseph loaded the children first into the large tool chests on both sides of the van. As he loaded the children into the containers, he noticed how sickly they both looked. Their faces were sunken in and ashen in color. After he saw them up close, he wasn’t entirely sure that they would survive the journey. Joseph sincerely hoped so; he did not want to deal with the fallout if Julio’s children died in his van. Julio would most certainly blame him, and most likely fulfill his promise to make Joseph pay with his life.
He gave the children a blanket, a few water bottles, some Power Bars, and a small LED flashlight, all of which Joseph had prepared while Julio said goodbye to his children.
Lastly, after seeing that the children were safe, Julio’s wife stepped up to the van. She had a look of concern on her face. Joseph tried to look reassuring for her, but he wasn’t entirely sure himself. Without a word, she stepped into the van and lowered herself into the main compartment in the floor of the van.
Joseph shut the lid on the false floor and started reassembling the façade in the back of the van. Julio’s men handed him the buckets and assortment of tools and trash. They spent quite a bit more time loading everything back into the van, being careful not to block the air holes in the hidden compartments and to cover them completely.
After throwing in all of his trash and making the van look ready for the Border Patrol, Joseph closed the doors and nodded to Julio’s men. He parted ways and walked around to the front to the cab. He hopped in the driver’s seat and started the drive to the border.
Safely back on the road and after he had gotten settled in the van, he removed the .45 Colt that he had tucked in his waistband. Joseph did not look very threatening, but in this line of work, he was more than prepared to use his weapon.
He had only used his gun in one particular instance in Chicago in which he left a man dead and thrown overboard. One of the men he had hired to help him smuggle a load of drugs had tried to kill him and hijack his boat. Joseph responded in kind by shooting the man in the head and rolling his body into Lake Michigan.
Joseph shed the memory and popped in a classic rock CD. He turned up the volume to a reasonable level to muffle any possible noise coming from his precious cargo. He rolled down the window and stuck his arm out to feel the cool springtime air. This time of the year was the best in his opinion; it was not too cool, and not too warm. It was the summer time that was unbearable for the Chicago native.
Time flew by and soon Joseph arrived at the highway. He waited for a gap in the traffic, and the right opportunity to hop on the highway behind a bus full of tourists. He didn’t pass the bus as most people would; he simply followed behind them. The bus was also part of his plan. After searching a bus full of people, most Border Patrol agents would be ready to get the line moving again and be less scrutinizing of Joseph and his van.
The drive to the border took Joseph about three and a half hours due to the horrendous traffic. He never got used to the pile-ups along the border. In Chicago he had been in his share of traffic, but these border crossings were brutal. He hated sitting the van for hours on end. Sitting still absolutely stressed Joseph out; he couldn’t stand the thought of a random border agent singling him out.
Finally, after what felt like eternity, the bus in front of him had been searched and they drove through the crossing.
Now it was Joseph’s turn. He knew how clever his disguises were and he wasn’t too terribly worried about them, but only a fool wouldn’t worry at all.
A Border Patrol agent approached Joseph’s van on the driver’s side. Joseph calmly rolled down his window and handed the man his credentials before even being asked. He wanted it to seem like he had been through this process a thousand times and this was business as usual.
“How’s it going today sir, where you heading?” the agent asked.
“Heading home to El Centro, I just finished completely gutting this house and redoing the ductwork. Been a long day,” Joseph replied.
“I hear ya,” the agent said, “Mind if I take a look in back?”
“No problem, the back doors are unlocked,” Joseph said.
The Border Patrol agent nodded and proceeded to walk behind the van and opened the back doors.
Joseph spun around in his seat and watched as the sunlight poured into the rear of the van. The agent shone his light around and poked through some of the bags, like so many of his peers.
Today, with this particular agent, things changed. The agent spoke into his walkie-talkie and called for someone.
Joseph’s heart rate increased, and he tried to remain calm. The agent came back around to his window and told him that they wanted a K-9 unit to take a sniff around first. They asked him to pull aside to a special lane for these particular checks.
Joseph slipped the van into gear and drove to the point in which the agents had indicated. He was beginning to worry now; he had enough illegal cargo in his van to put him away for a long time.
After an indeterminable amount of time passed, another agent trundled over to the van with a German shepherd. They immediately opened the back doors and let the dog sniff around in the back of the truck.
“Careful back there, the lead and as
bestos might kill your dog. Make sure he doesn’t get too close to those bags,” Joseph said with fabricated concern.
The agent holding the dog did move him back however, but after only a minute of searching the dog seemed to tense up.
Its hackles raised and it took a defensive posture. Something had made the dog turn aggressive quickly.
The K-9 agent noticed the dog’s change of attitude and immediately signaled for the first agent to take action.
Before Joseph could say a word there were guns drawn and he was being pulled out of the van and thrown to the ground. His hands were handcuffed behind his back with his face pointed toward the van.
In the back of the van, the K-9 agent was tearing the bags out of the van to let the dog get into the back.
Another few seconds went by and suddenly the dog lost it. It barked and growled and the trainer had a hard time keeping his dog in check.
The first agent hauled Joseph up to his feet and marched him to the back of the van.
“Want to tell us what’s in there, or should we find out ourselves?” the agent asked.
“Your dog is crazy man, look at that thing. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Joseph pleaded.
The K-9 agent shook his head and leaned over to open the latch on the tool chest. One second went by as the agent shined a flashlight into the dark container.
Then, out of nowhere, one of the children flew out of the container like a bat out of hell. The child latched onto the agent and bit down deep into the agent’s neck. A crimson arc of the agent’s blood decorated the walls inside the van. Joseph and the first agent stood dumbfounded. Unable to process what had happened right before their eyes, the Border Patrol agents watched as Julio’s son slammed their coworker to the deck of the van and continued to maul him to death.
The agent’s dog attacked Julio’s son and suddenly there was a brutal, bloody, melee in Joseph’s van.
The dog tore into the tendons of the child’s neck as the child tore into the agent’s neck. Before ten seconds had passed, the agent was clearly dead as witnessed by his lack of screaming. Julio’s son still latched onto the agent’s lifeless body as the dog still tried to save his master.
The Extinction Pandemic: A Post Apocalyptic Novel (The Hatchery Compound Book 1) Page 1
