“Well, is everybody glad we came?” Jake grinned.
“There's way too much to fit in our two vehicles,” Carolyn announced. “Just the medical supplies alone wouldn't fit into both of them.”
“We'll have to see if we can get a couple of these trucks started,” Pete put in. “I was a pretty fair mechanic before I switched to sales.”
“These trucks look awfully big,” Carolyn commented. “They aren’t deuce and a half trucks?”
“No,” Pete answered. “That’s an old designation. These are M1083 five-ton trucks. I don’t know that they actually use the deuce and a half anymore.”
All the batteries were dead or near so, but, using their own vehicles and a set of jumper cables, Pete was at last able to get two trucks running just past dark after much coaxing and tinkering and cursing, and let them each run for a couple of hours to recharge their batteries. They spent the night there in sleeping bags in the backs of the empty trucks, then began re-distributing supplies the next morning, making sure each of the vehicles they were taking carried at least some each of food, water, weapons and ammo and medical supplies. A small fuel dump held several hundred gallons of diesel and there were no small number of abandoned vehicles in the immediate area. With full tanks all around, filled drums in the bed of the 350 and a dozen five-gallon cans strapped to the sides of each of the Army trucks, they were loaded and ready to move out shortly before noon. Jake and Pete each drove one of the trucks while Vickie and Carolyn took the 350 and the Kays rode in the Hummer.
Twice over the next five hours, they saw tire tracks joining with their own from the trip up at intersections and they spent a restless night parked under a railroad bridge, none of them getting much sleep, and they were all edgy and nervous when they started off again in the morning after a rushed breakfast and plenty of coffee.
Less than two miles from the bridge, they spotted two vehicles, a red Explorer and a black Tahoe, approaching from ahead of them. Jake stopped his truck and Pete pulled up beside him. The two newcomers stopped a hundred and fifty or so yards away and nothing happened for several tense minutes. At last, the doors opened on the Explorer and two armed men emerged, followed a moment later by two more from the Tahoe. They stood in a group and talked for a bit, then one of the men handed his rifle and pistol to another and began walking toward the two military trucks, hands raised as high as his shoulders.
Jake sighed deeply and told Pete to keep his engine running and be prepared for anything as he stepped out of the truck, leaving his rifle but carrying a holstered Glock beneath his jacket. Despite Vickie’s objections and turning down Kim’s plea to accompany him, he walked ahead about forty yards and stopped and waited until the other man was fifteen feet away before holding up his hand, palm outward.
“That's close enough for now,” Jake told him.
The man was in his late fifties, about four inches shorter than Jake, lightly built, dark blond haired, clean-shaven, wearing Carhart coveralls, leather boots and a fleece jacket. He sized Jake up for a moment before he spoke.
“We saw the trucks, hoped the military was active again in these parts. You aren't military, are you?”
“No. We're just survivors. Name's Jake Harper,” Jake told him, extending his hand as he took a few cautious steps closer.
“Phil Carpenter,” the man returned, clasping Jake's hand.
“Phil. Who've you got with you?”
“A couple of friends,” he answered, glancing back over his shoulder. “Who's backing you up with the rifles?
Jake stole a look over his shoulder to see five automatic rifle barrels visible from behind the vehicles, though none were actually aimed directly at the newcomers.
“I have friends of my own,” he smiled.
“So, what do we do now?”
“Well, you could tell me a little about yourselves.”
“What can I tell you,” the man shrugged. “Everyone who's survived has pretty much the same story. We've lost people and I'm sure you must have. We've done things we're not necessarily proud of to survive, to protect ourselves. I guess we're all just taking it day by day.”
“I'll have to contradict you on a couple of points,” Jake told the man. “Everyone's story isn't the same. We've run across some people who were worse than the infected, who weren't just trying to survive, but were taking every opportunity they could to exploit other survivors. And we aren't just trying to take it day by day. We're looking to survive this whole catastrophe and to, someday, rebuild some sort of civilization.”
“Yeah, well, maybe we're not as ambitious as you are. Right now, we're more interested in the short term, protecting our own. Civilization may well be reestablished sometime in the future, but we have to get through each day as it comes until that happens. And we've had our share of troubles with other survivors. We've lost people to outlaws, bandits, renegades, whatever you want to call them.”
“Fair enough,” Jake said, looking the man up and down. “You have a secure base, an established community.” Seeing the questioning look on the other man's face, Jake continued. “You're clean-shaven, your clothes are clean and don't show a lot of wear, you look well-fed. What I can see of your people back there, they're in about the same shape as you.”
“Huh. I was thinking the same about you. You must have a safe-house of your own, probably where you're heading with those trucks.”
“So, where does that leave us now, your group and ours? We're tired of having to fight and struggle every day, just to survive, but we'll keep at it as long as we have to. Do we have to fight you? Are you a threat?”
“We aren't a threat to you as long as you aren't a danger to us. I can see you're well-armed and prepared for whatever violence comes your way. As far as we're concerned, I think the phrase 'peaceful coexistence' applies in this case.”
Jake smiled and extended his hand again and Phil shook it firmly, then reached inside his jacket and produced a metal flask, which he opened and offered to Jake. Jake took a sniff, smiled again, took a swig of Jack Daniels, and handed it back to Phil, who took a swig himself before putting it away again.
“As long as we're going to be... maybe not friends, but not enemies either, would you be agreeable to a bit of barter?” Phil asked.
“Depends. What do you need?”
“What we need most is medical supplies. Antibiotics, painkillers, that sort of stuff. We have a fellow who was an intern at Mercy Hospital in Benson. He could explain what we need the most. We could also use some ammunition, if you're willing to part with any.”
“Bring your intern, unarmed, over to the trucks. Take along another man, unarmed, to help carry and we'll give you what medical supplies we can spare.”
“You haven't asked what we have to barter with,” Phil pointed out.
“We have more than enough medical supplies. I'm happy to share them with people who are at least making an effort to be good neighbors. As far as the ammo? What exactly were you thinking on that account?”
“Twelve gauge, twenty gauge, 5.56s, 7.62s, 22s... anything you'd be willing to part with.”
“Go back and bring your men over. I'll talk with my people about the ammo.”
They parted and Jake walked back to the trucks and related their exchange to the others.
“Yeah, we have more than enough medical supplies,” Carolyn agreed. “No reason we can't help them out there.”
“Okay, but what about ammo?” Pete questioned. “You seem pretty ready to trust them.”
“They were watching us all night long, I could see them lurking about in the dark. They know how many of us there are. They could simply have set up an ambush up ahead, plenty of spots for that, and taken what they wanted. And they're willing to send three of their number into our grasp, unarmed, to negotiate with us.”
“Unarmed, like you?” Kate chuckled.
“My Glock might have been useful against Phil with the others several hundred feet away, but once they're in here among us, it'll be easy
to cover them if they get any stupid ideas.”
Phil and two others approached, a tall, dark haired bull of a man and a nervous younger man wearing glasses and looking like he'd rather be anywhere else in the world.
“Ted Marsh and Miguel Vargas. Dr. Vargas, I should say,” Phil explained.
Introductions were made and hands shaken, though Kim pointedly made it clear that none of them should even approach her. Dr. Vargas, the younger, bespectacled man, climbed up into one of the trucks with Carolyn, Kim backing her up. They began sorting through the medical supplies, Kim keeping a wary eye on the young doctor, hand never far from the huge, razor-sharp Bowie knife she’d taken to wearing. Jake and Pete, with Vickie standing by and Kate keeping an eye on the cars in the distance, climbed into the other truck with Phil and Ted.
“I can let you have a hundred 12 gauge shells, that's about all we brought with us. I don't think we'll need them on the way back, but we didn't bring any 20 gauge or .22s. We can let you have fifteen hundred or so rounds of 5.56 though.”
“Fifteen hundred rounds?” Ted spoke up. “Are you kidding me?”
“We can afford that many,” Jake assured him.
“Good Lord,” Phil remarked. “And what would you want in return? We can spare some food, some clothing, maybe some gasoline. I don't know what we'd have that would be worth those medical supplies and that much ammunition.”
“Got any more of that Jack?” Jake winked.
“As a matter of fact, I've been in the distribution center where they stored it prior to shipping it to local outlets. I've got several full cases in the back of the Explorer.”
“Sounds like a deal to me if you can spare one.”
“Are you always this quick to make up your mind about whether to trust someone?” Ted asked him.
“Not always. Sometimes I have a feeling about people, though,” Jake answered while handing the big man a couple of ammo cans. He gave the boxes of shotgun shells to Phil and they climbed down from the truck about the time Dr. Vargas popped his head out the back of the other truck.
“Get what you need, Doc?” Phil called.
“Yes! This will take care of all of our needs for the immediate future! They have been very generous!”
“I'll help you carry this all back to your cars,” Jake offered, picking up one of three crates, “and I'll collect that case of Jack.”
Approaching the other set of vehicles, Phil waved and called out that everything was fine and another man and two women, all armed, showed themselves. Phil introduced Adam, Brooke and Evelyn to Jake and hands were shaken all around. Once their supplies had been stowed away, Phil got a case of whiskey out and set it on the hood of the Explorer.
“I don't know what kind of setup you have, Jake, but if you're ever in trouble, you can find some friends near the Holling Road exit off of the interstate. Just show up, we'll see you.”
“Thanks, Phil. Our place is at least a day's drive from there in good weather, so I don't think our paths will cross again soon, but it's nice to know there are still some good people left.”
Jake turned to pick up the case, but hadn't noticed Brooke move up between him and the hood and bumped his forearm against the butt of the scoped rifle she was in the act of slinging over her shoulder. He winced and held the arm with his right hand.
“I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?” Brooke asked him.
“Nothing, really. It's still a bit sore where I was bitten.”
“Bitten?” Brooke cried out as she unslung the rifle and everyone drew back a step, Ted drawing his pistol.
At the same time, the members of Jake’s party, seeing this, fanned out and readied their own weapons for a confrontation.
“Easy, easy,” Jake held his hand up. “It was weeks ago. I'm not going to turn!”
“How is this possible?” the doctor questioned. “Everyone we have seen who has been bitten has sickened and turned. Everyone! Why not you?”
Jake slid his arm out of the jacket and rolled up his sleeve, revealing the healing, but still very apparent wound and Dr. Vargas examined it carefully.
“Yes, it would have taken several weeks to heal like this. But, still, how is it possible you have not turned into one of those creatures?”
Jake gave a brief rundown of the conversations he and some of the others had had with Dr. Warfield, leaving out the parts he'd kept from Vickie and Carolyn and the rest. A smile spread across Dr. Vargas' face during the retelling and he nodded several times.
“Then, the worst is over. Do you understand this, Phil? He not only gives us supplies, he gives us hope!”
“I don't even want to imagine what went through your mind after taking that bite,” Phil said while Jake got back into his jacket. “The doc is right, this is the first ray of hope we've seen since the outbreak. Thank you. Thank you for everything. And remember what I said if you ever need us.”
“God bless you,” Brooke told him, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting an open-mouthed kiss firmly on his lips.
“Uh, you’re welcome,” Jake offered as he gently disengaged himself from Brooke’s embrace.
As he picked up the crate of whiskey, he noticed that Kim had slipped up, unnoticed, to just on the other side of the Explorer, pistol in her left hand and Bowie knife in her right. Ted saw her about then and gasped in surprise at her menacing look. Jake spoke to her quickly and they headed back to the trucks together, Kim all the while keeping a cautious eye on the newcomers.
“Where the hell did she come from?” Ted wondered aloud.
“She is someone I would stay away from,” Vargas said. “I never felt so uncomfortable in my life as the few minutes I spent in the back of that truck with her and Carolyn.”
. . .
“So, did you enjoy it?” Vickie asked Jake as he started to climb into the truck cab.
“The Jack? I'm going to, as soon as we get back to the house.”
“I meant that kiss, the one that hot young redhead gave you.”
“It paled in comparison to one of yours.”
“Hmm! Good answer!” And she kissed him before heading back to the 350.
“Kim,” Jake called out, “thanks for coming to my rescue but try to remember that we need to make friends. Not everyone is an enemy.”
“You saved me,” she answered simply. “You saved Kate, too and all the others. I will never forget that. I could not let anything happen to you.”
“I wasn’t the only one there.”
“I am grateful to Pete also, and to Vickie, but you are the one who made it happen. I saw what you did and my heart was never so glad as to see those men die. I only wish you had not killed all of them outright; I would have enjoyed repaying them in my own way.”
As he watched her walk back to the Hummer, Jake could only speculate on what she would have done. The thought sent chills up his spine.
. . .
The little convoy arrived at the house a few hours before dark the following day to find everyone safe and happy to welcome them home. The story of the encounter with the other survivors was told from several different perspectives, all hopeful that they might have made some allies for the future, though Kim refused to comment on that. The haul from Camp Bravo was well worth the long trip and they were pressed to find space for all the supplies they'd brought back. There were more than enough M-4 rifles to go around; though Susan wanted nothing to do with them and was content with one of the .38s. The machine-gun was kept ready to use in one of the bedrooms, between a front window and a door leading out to the upper porch. The grenades, of which they now had thirteen in all, not counting the tear gas canisters, were separated into four strong, wooden boxes and placed at each corner of the first floor. Dozens of fully loaded magazines for the ARs and the M-4s they’d found at the camp were carefully positioned to be near at hand when needed and boxes of ammunition were near every door and window.
That night the temperature bottomed out at thirteen below and no one gave a thought to hordes of i
nfected ever again attacking their home.
Chapter 34: Revelation
After almost three weeks of freezing, below freezing and near freezing nights, they awoke to a morning that was merely chilly by comparison. The sun shone brightly and the temperature climbed to the low-forties. That afternoon, for the first time in a good while, Jake sat on the front porch, leisurely smoking a cigarette instead of rushing through it to get back into the warm house. Vickie brought him out a cup of hot coffee and they were joined a few minutes later by the Kays, both carrying their own steaming cups. Kate bummed a rare smoke from Jake and coughed a bit after the first couple of puffs while Kim shook her head and muttered a few obviously reproving words in Vietnamese. It wasn't long before most of the group were assembled, sitting on chairs, benches, porch railings or steps, chatting and enjoying the unusually mild weather. Jake moved downwind with his cigarette, leaning over the railing and Vickie perched on it next to him.
“Well, isn't this just great,” Carolyn, grumbled, more than half-seriously. “I finally managed to get Pete to kick the filthy habit and here you are, corrupting Kate with it!”
“Yes, I would like you to stop,” Kim told Kate. “Your breath smells like an old fire pit and your mouth tastes of -” she stopped there and glanced around at the others and her face reddened as she saw them smiling at her. “I’m not ashamed to say we are lovers!” she added defiantly.
“Filthy habit,” Jake agreed and Vickie laughed aloud. “Speaking of filthy habits, does anyone know what time it is?” No one answered immediately and Jake quickly continued. “Well, it must be four o'clock somewhere,” and produced one of the bottles he'd gotten from Phil.
The Complete Lethal Infection Trilogy Page 26
