The person who’d shot the soldier shoved the weapon at Moe’s chest, but he grabbed the barrel of the gun and turned it down. Then he snatched the man by the hair and jerked his head down as he brought his knee up into the man’s nose with a quick crunch. The man dropped, the rifle came free, and Moe turned it around and fired a burst of rounds into the crowd to back them off.
He glanced over his shoulder at the women. “Keep moving!”
As they retreated in a semi-controlled manner, the chaos swept by them on both sides. Many of the refugees ran by with weapons in their hands, though none of them seemed concerned about him or the doctors dressed in their plain clothes. Their anger resided solely with the soldiers.
“Moe, watch out.”
His right heel hit something, and he looked down to see a dead soldier laying at his feet. His rifle was missing, but his ammunition pouch remained untouched. He knelt beside the man and found two thirty-round magazines which he lifted. Sage and Brandi knelt on the other side, holding expressions of fear.
“Take his pistol,” he growled.
“Right,” Sage said. She reached for the soldier’s sidearm, removed it from his holster, and drew back the slide to check if the weapon was charged. Realizing it wasn’t, Sage pulled back on the slide and allowed it to slam forward, loading a bullet into the chamber. Moe dug out two magazines for the pistol and tossed them to Sage.
They stood together and continued their measured retreat.
Chapter 17
Moe Tsosie, Chinle, Arizona
The trio hurried north through the camp, harried by the sounds of the fighting and dying happening behind them. By the time they reached the surgical and lab facilities, dozens of soldiers moved in organized groups in the opposite direction, toward the chaos. At least one armored vehicle pressed south, surrounded by a contingent of soldiers.
With the chaos momentarily in check, Moe, Sage, and Brandi stopped near the officers’ quarters to catch their breath.
“What do we do now?” Sage turned, looking out for threats.
“I’ll find Colonel Humphreys.” Brandi touched Sage’s arm and drew away.
“Okay.” Moe looked out to the bright lights of the triage units stationed a quarter mile away. “We’ll go warn Rex and the boys and head back to my place. We’ll be safe there until we find out where the elders are gathering. You’re more than welcome to meet out there. I’m out on the east side of town on Route 7 near the canyon. My rig is sitting in front of my house. Can’t miss it.”
“I’ll find you if I can.” Brandi flashed them an assuring grin, then she turned and sprinted toward the colonel’s building.
“This way.” Moe took Sage by the hand and led her up the service road by the school, past Colonel Humphrey’s buildings and over to the Speedway across the street.
He jogged to his quad and handed his rifle to Sage. Throwing his leg over the four-wheeler’s seat, Moe settled down and hit the ignition. The machine coughed to life, and he scooted forward as far as he could.
“I don’t have a back seat, but you can ride on the cargo tray.”
“We’re going off-road?” Sage asked as she settled onto the cargo tray with the rifle between them. She wrapped her feet over Moe’s legs and gripped his waist with one arm.
“Now, and for the foreseeable future.” He pulled out of the lot and skirted the camp until they were on the far side near the triage units.
Tents burned and bullets popped off amidst shouts and screams. Long bursts of automatic fire cut through the night, and Moe imagined hundreds of people dying in the bloody brawl. He didn’t want to be anywhere near the place when the dust settled.
“Stay down and hang on!” he shouted as they entered rough terrain.
The four-wheeler lurched and rumbled as he guided them out to the nearest triage unit. He recognized Rex’s pickup truck as the athletic director stood in the truck bed with members of the basketball team.
Moe waved and pulled next to the truck.
Rex waved back with a frustrated expression. “What in the world is happening? Looks like all hell’s broken loose.”
“The toxic mold has infected half the camp,” Moe replied. “It’s been stewing for a while. Now, the soldiers are trying to get control of some sick, angry people.”
“The refugees are rioting?”
“That’s right.”
“What do you want us to do?”
“Get the boys someplace safe,” Moe said. “That’ll be the caves. Tell the elders it’s not safe in town anymore, and we’ll be joining them soon.”
“I’ll see it done.” Rex nodded. He dropped from the back of the truck and clasped Moe’s arm. “Be careful, friend.”
“You, too, Rex. I’ll see you soon.”
With that, Moe revved the four-wheeler and turned eastward for home. They skirted south of Chinle, driving carefully between the dry brush to keep the ride smooth for Sage. He spared a glance at the darkened town, hoping the chaos didn’t spill over. The people of Chinle were a resilient folk. They’d been through generations of tough times, and they would pull through this.
With the insanity of the evening’s events like a fresh wound, Moe was keenly aware of Sage’s arm around his waist. How long had it been since he’d felt a woman’s touch?
With a deprecating grunt, he wiped his own emotions away and focused on the terrain. He needed to get Sage to safety without dumping them both on the hard-packed earth. Ten minutes later, his truck came into view, looming above his house where it rested in the darkness.
The lights were out across town, and Moe’s home was no exception.
He pulled to a gentle stop in his front yard and cut the engine. Sage’s arm lingered around his waist before she climbed off and held the rifle out for Moe to take. He dismounted and took the weapon from her with a “thanks.”
“Wait here,” he said, and he circled around to the side of the house, rested his rifle against the wall, and started the generator with a racket that shook the quiet night. He picked up his rifle and returned to the front yard. “It’s a little noisy, but the tradeoff is worth it.” He gestured to the house as the kitchen and living room lights swelled to life.
“It’s better than I have at my place,” Sage said, following Moe up the front steps where she stopped next to the backpacks Moe and Aponi had left earlier. “Do you want me to grab these?”
“Yes, if you could.” He opened his front door and stepped into his modest living room. “Just toss them on the couch.”
Sage didn’t toss the backpacks but placed them in a neat row as she looked around. “Nice place you’ve got here.”
“It’s not mine,” Moe explained, blushing at his outdated decor and cheap furniture. “It was my mom’s place before she passed away a few years ago. She left it to me, but it will always be hers in my eyes.”
Sage pushed a lock of hair behind her ears and stepped closer. “Sorry to hear about your mother. No brothers or sisters?”
“One of each.” Moe stepped into the adjoining dining room and rested the rifle against the wall. “My little brother passed some months before my mom. The bottle and needle got him. My sister, Waki, lived in Many Farms the last time I checked, though I haven’t talked to her in some years.”
“That’s terrible.” Sage’s brown eyes fixed him with concern. "I can’t imagine losing two family members so close together and then losing touch with your sister.”
Moe blinked at the woman, shocked she cared so much. Aside from Rex and Cassie, he didn’t have anyone else to share the loss. And being on the road so much didn’t lend itself to making new friends or relationships. Time had turned him cold to his pain, though Sage’s concern brought a warmth of sudden emotion to his chest.
“Thanks.” He turned away and moved toward the kitchen before she caught his eyes brimming with tears. “Do you want some coffee?”
“That sounds wonderful,” Sage said. “Do you want to sit at the kitchen table?”
Moe changed
direction and returned to the table, taking down some cardboard boxes and stacking some bills on the far side of the table. “Yes, of course. Sorry about the mess.”
“It’s okay,” Sage gave a soft laugh. “You go make the coffee, and I’ll clear us off some spots.”
He nodded and went into the kitchen. A couple minutes later, as the aroma of fresh coffee began to fill the house, Moe bowed his head and took a deep breath before asking Sage if she took cream or sugar.
“Both,” she called back.
Moe brought out two cups of black brew, amazed that Sage had cleared half of the table by moving a few things around. She’d stacked papers and other junk in an organized manner at the end of the table. He smiled and went back for the powdered creamer and sugar and brought out two glasses of water from the tap.
“I feel like we just walked out of a dream,” Sage said as she sat down across from him.
“More like a nightmare.” Moe sat, sweetened his coffee, and took a sip. He leaned back in his seat with a pained sigh. “I’ve been riding for hours, and my arms are about to fall off.”
“It’s been a long night,” Sage said, her eyes lingering on her cup. “What should we do from here?”
“I think we should wait here until morning,” Moe said. “We’ll see if Brandi or Aponi return. If we don’t hear from them by noon tomorrow, we’ll ride out to the caves ourselves.”
Sage nodded. “That sounds like a plan.”
“How about your hospital staff? Where are they?”
“Most of them were off shift,” she replied. “They should all be home. I debated housing them at the camp but thought better of it. I thought they’d prefer to sleep in their own beds.”
“Good call,” Moe agreed. “Though I can’t say the same for Dr. Reemer’s staff.”
A pained look strained Sage’s face. “Do you think Brandi and her staff are okay? I mean, should we go back for them?”
His home lay four miles from camp, though he swore his ears caught distant rifle fire. “I don’t think we should go anywhere near that camp.”
“I guess it depends on who wins the fight, the refugees or the soldiers.”
Moe recalled the infection he’d seen spreading through the bloodthirsty mob and the woman who’d coughed black goo on the soldier. “No one wins that fight. I saw how panic ignited the mob back in Flagstaff. It turns people into animals, and I expect nothing less here. People will steal and kill for the dumbest reasons.”
“People can be terrible,” Sage frowned with sadness in her eyes. “And not even the military can stop it. Where can innocent people go?”
“I’m not sure there’s anyplace left to go, but many will try to leave.” Moe raised his eyes and thought about it. “The survivors could get sick, or they’ll die fighting for the scraps. Chinle is finished for the time being. The only hope is the caves.”
Sage nodded, slumping in her chair. “I dedicate myself to helping people, and I’m helpless now.”
Moe gave her a pointed look. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. The toxic cloud, the mold, fungus, or whatever it is. It’s tough, and it’s got humankind in a death grip.”
“I can’t believe we didn’t see it sooner,” Sage said.
“What’s done is done,” he said. “The refugees outnumbered everyone else three to one, and the symptoms took a long time to show. I could have it myself and not even know it.”
Sage stared at him, and Moe quickly added. “But I feel fine.”
“What happened in California?”
Moe regaled her with the tale of his journey out of Bakersfield: the black clouds descending; washing fungus off his truck; the pileups on the road; and the traffic parking lot outside of Flagstaff where citizens clashed with authorities in a deadly battle. He told her about the two children he’d picked up and dropped off to the authorities, and the three days at Coyote’s, culminating in Rocko’s death.
“That’s some story.” Sage shook her head, and she reached across the table to lay her hand over his. “I’m sorry about Rocko. I hope his spirit rests in peace.”
“I’m sure it will,” Moe scoffed. “The guy was everyone’s best friend. He’ll make good with the wind god, Niltsi, in the spirit world, and the wind god will carry him across the lands. He may be flying above us now.” He raised his eyebrow and looked up, causing Sage to laugh.
“Thank you for getting me out of there.” Sage left her hand resting on his arm.
“You’re welcome, Sage.”
“You carry so much sorrow on your shoulders,” she continued, her eyebrows drawn up in concern. “Your burdens must be terrible to bear.”
Moe looked into her eyes. “It’s not so bad, now.” When she smiled and drew back in her seat, and he quickly changed the subject. “How about you? Where is your family?”
“My mother passed away some years ago, and my father lives in Window Rock with my two older brothers. I hope they’re okay.”
Moe nodded. “Your mother—”
“She died of dementia, though she was at peace when she took her last breath.”
“Well, you have your own cloud of burden.”
“Just a small cloud.” Sage gave Moe a disarming smile.
He studied the dimples in the corners of her mouth, and he hoped to gaze upon them as much as possible before the morning gave them a fresh day of troubles.
Chapter 18
Burke Birkenhoff, Yellow Springs, Ohio
Burke stepped off the bus into the parking lot in his protective suit and strolled into the sunlight. Once out from beneath the shade of the overhanging trees, he turned and peered to the south.
A dot appeared in the distance. At first, it was just a speck until its spinning blades and whirring sound gave it away as a medium-sized helicopter painted in black and green. With a smile on his face, Burke watched the aircraft grow larger until it circled the parking lot and set down some thirty yards away.
Debris scattered beneath the powerful chopper, and Burke leaned back as a gust nudged him. He grinned as three people wearing black tactical gear and air filtration masks dropped from the rear of the aircraft and spread out with high-powered rifles pointed outward from their hips.
One fighter spotted Burke and rotated their gun in his direction. Burke’s insides withered, yet he kept his smile. He raised his hand and waved, and the fighter relaxed their stance.
Another fighter dropped from the back of the helicopter and strode toward Burke. She wore a form-fitting tactical assault uniform with lightweight armor covering vital organs. Her helmet hugged her head in rugged matte black with raised spots comprising the suit’s communication suite and tactical display. Burke watched her smooth movements as she came up.
She moved like a panther with muscular shoulders and hips swaying in her compact frame, and her face remained hidden behind a shadowed visor. She stopped five yards in front of Burke and rested her fists on her hips with her legs spread shoulder width apart. The woman stood five-feet, two-inches tall, though she seemed much taller.
“Hello Lexi,” Burke clasped his hands in front of him and gave her a respectful nod.
The tinted visor faded to reveal a roundish olive-toned face with strands of black hair falling across a pair of intense eyes.
“I thought you’d forgotten about us.” She pushed the words through firm-pressed lips in heavily accented Hispanic.
“Never,” Burke cooed. “I was waiting for the right time to call you.”
Lexi’s eyes searched the bus entrance behind Burke. “Where’s Richtman?”
“Special assignment,” Burke replied, then he changed the subject. “Is the Arkansas facility secure?”
“People are struggling with cabin fever.” Lexi shrugged. “But my soldiers are keeping busy.”
Burke leaned forward as his grin turned wicked. “They aren’t terrorizing the scientists, are they?”
A thin smile worked its way onto Lexi’s lips. “Not the important ones.”
“Good. We need t
o keep a few good eggheads around.” Burke clapped his hands together in front of him. “Now, on to the business at hand. I’ve got some loose ends I need you to tie up for me before we move on to the California camp.”
Lexi gave a satisfactory nod. “Okay then.”
“Step inside.” Burke made a sweeping gesture. “And I’ll tell you about the most recent thorns in my side. Kim Shields, Paul Henderson, and a girl named Fiona.”
Lexi turned and made a hand signal to her people standing near the helicopter, and the mercenaries nodded and jogged to the aircraft’s crew section. They placed their weapons on the ground and hauled out duffel bags full of gear, tossing them to the cracked blacktop.
She turned back to Burke with a grin. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to get started.”
Chapter 19
Jessie Talby, Yellow Springs, Ohio
Jessie stood in the computer room of Paul’s lab and watched Bryant argue with someone on the phone. Fiona sat at one computer desk with a pair of over-sized glasses perched on her nose, looking at the pictures in an enormous concert book called The History of Rock, 1965 – 1973 she’d found in Paul’s common area.
“Yes, I know you feel misled, sir.” Bryant’s hand rested on the desk, clenched tight despite his calm tone. “But while I was on my approved supply run, I stopped at the facility Kim Shields is running in Yellow Springs. I’m telling you, they’re ready to test the treatment for the fungal infection right here. Yes, I know you’re walking a thin line with your superiors. Yes, I know Kim Shields isn’t your favorite person. But, sir. Imagine being able to treat everyone at the camp. Yes, General, but think about how this will—”
Bryant looked at Jessie with baleful eyes as the general gave him an earful. The soldier shook his head in frustration and shrugged.
“Sir, I’m asking you to look past Mrs. Shields’s indiscretions. This treatment is a ray of hope for everyone. It’s a light at the end of the tunnel, sir. We just need you to send those test subjects. And, frankly, we could use their guns, too. Burke Birkenhoff showed up, and he flew in some reinforcements today.”
Spore Series | Book 3 | Fight Page 11
