Extinction Survival Series (Book 3): Cost of Survival

by Browning, Walt

  Shader’s reaction was both disappointment and relief. Neither emotion found its way onto his face.

  “If that’s all you can handle.”

  Maxwell chuckled at his bravado. “Come on, old man. I know I’ve been pushing you. I don’t want you to have a heart attack.”

  It was Shader’s turn to laugh. They were medicine for each other’s souls.

  “Deal,” he finally said. “But the weekends are fair game.”

  Maxwell stared lovingly at the big man and snickered. “Okay. Deal.” She put her hand out to shake.

  Porky stood up and took her grasp, then pulled her up from the chair and swept her into his arms. He turned and carried her back toward the unmade bed.

  “What are you doing, Ray?” Her husky voice was thick with hormones.

  “It’s Saturday, in case you were wondering,” he said, as he laid her gently on the mattress.

  By lunch, Carver had a chance to inspect their progress on the solar farm. He catalogued what they had already brought and created an inventory of items they’d need to finish the project. He also wanted to leave the place with enough spare parts to repair any problems that may arise in the future. The list was long. It would take a few weeks to gather everything they’d need and complete the project.

  Carver and Hope joined Shader and Maxwell at the ranch’s kitchen table. Both couples lingered over the food, and they spent the time talking about the future. It was a refreshing discussion. Death never entered the conversation.

  “So, what about you?” Carver asked Maxwell. “Once we get the solar farm running, are you prepared to take on the crew from the Freedom?”

  “That’s going to be difficult here,” she said. “We don’t have the infrastructure to handle that many people.”

  “We’ll put up more buildings,” Shader replied. “We could even convert some of your stables into living quarters. We did that at Lost Valley with our maintenance garage.”

  “We could always use some of the existing buildings in Avalon. That would be a lot easier than building from scratch,” she replied.

  “That’ll work as long as you have gasoline or horses. That’s quite a trek across the spine of the island. I’d rather have everyone here when the gasoline spoils. Your farm is going to have to expand quite a bit to take care of them and your future residents.”

  She gave a quick nod. “Then we need to build more structures. I just need help to do it. Do you have someone who can supervise something like that?”

  “I can do it,” Shader said.

  “How long would all this take?”

  “At least a few months.”

  Carver looked at his friend. “You sure about this?”

  “I’ve given it some thought,” Shader said.

  Carver’s eyebrows rose. “You have?”

  “Yeah. I’ve been thinking a lot about the future.”

  He glanced at Maxwell, who had a confused look on her face.

  “When we finish fixing this place up, I plan to stay on the island.”

  Carver was stunned. His best friend was about to leave him.

  Maxwell caught her breath, a surprised and grateful look on her face. “I’ve been so worried about that.” She flung her arms around the big man’s neck, then grabbed his face and kissed him.

  Hope saw Carver’s despondent reaction and turned his face to hers. “It’ll be all right,” she whispered. “We have a family coming.”

  Carver fought his own selfish feelings. He saw Hope, her expression begging him for his love and understanding. Deep down, Carver knew she was concerned that he and Shader were more emotionally connected than the two of them could ever be.

  Carver smiled and, although his heart hurt for the eventual loss of his friend, he loved Hope. She was his soulmate and was carrying his child.

  He whispered back. “I love you. Losing that ding-dong will never change that.”

  He kissed Hope with a gentle passion that removed any of her doubts.

  “Ding-dong? Is that the best you’ve got?” Shader asked.

  Carver left Hope’s lips and turned to the big man, smiling. “I could use more graphic words, but there are women present.”

  “Why are you two making such a big deal of this?” Hope asked. “It’s not like you two can’t visit each other.”

  “Babe,” Carver answered, “the aviation fuel will go bad within the year. Once that happens, we won’t be able to fly here.”

  Hope’s face dropped. In less than twelve months, the island would be isolated from the rest of the world. At that point, Shader may as well be in Japan.

  “No more flying,” Maxwell sighed.

  “Then, I’ll learn to sail,” Shader replied. “You can’t get rid of us that easily!”

  Carver smirked. “Oh, well. There goes that plan to get rid of you.”

  The table shared a sad and humorous laugh. Change was coming. All they could do was prepare and pray for the best.

  “Brothers?” Shader asked, holding out his hand.

  “Always.” Carver grasped his friend and pulled him to his chest then backed away and smiled.

  “The only easy day was yesterday,” they both said.

  The meal ended and both couples went their separate ways. Nothing ever remained the same, but at least, the future looked brighter than it did just a few weeks before.

  Two weeks later

  As the days passed, progress on the ranch began to slow down. They were running short of supplies. The crews were lacking the PVC pipes and electric conduit to connect the houses they needed to build. The growing list forced them to stop construction and plan a supply raid into Avalon.

  The city sat on the other side of the island’s mountainous crest. They’d never made it to the town on their first attempt to reconnoiter the small city. That had been interrupted by the flying Variants.

  “We use the same route as last time,” Carver said, pointing to the island map he’d spread out on the conference table. “Now that the flying Variants have been eliminated, I’d like to say the way will be clear and smooth, but…”

  Shader interrupted. “Don’t need to say anything more, brother. We have to assume the worst.”

  “We’ll take two pickups,” Carver said. “The second one can pull the trailer, but we will still need both of the trucks’ beds to haul the supplies. That’ll limit us to eight men. Four in each cab.

  “I’ve contacted Lost Valley,” he continued. “Everly’s got himself a new helicopter and can give us cover.”

  “That’s good,” Maxwell interjected. “That makes me feel better about sending you into the city.”

  Shader shook his head. “Hey. This isn’t on you. We’re doing this for the crew of the Freedom.”

  “Yeah. Don’t take the responsibility for this,” Carver added.

  She gave the men a sliver of a smile. “I’m sorry. It’s just the way I am.”

  “Which is why I love you,” Shader said, stroking Chloe’s shoulder.

  Carver and Shader chose six other fighters to join the mission. They created two new four-man teams, one led by Carver and the other by Shader.

  Although Kyle had joined them on the island, Carver didn’t include him in the raid. He would stay at the ranch, assigned to guard Mr. Morales, who was supervising the new plumbing and wiring. Having Kyle provide security for the valuable man also meant he’d keep an eye on Hope. It was a win-win in Carver’s book.

  Morales had brought along little Bella. The eight-year-old thrived on the ranch and her presence lightened everyone’s mood, especially the ranch hands, who had been living without the presence of children. Kids represented hope, and her energy was invigorating.

  “Okay. Any questions?” Carver asked.

  No one said a word.

  “Then we leave at dawn tomorrow. I’ll confirm our schedule with Lost Valley and coordinate with Everly. Make sure everyone is geared up. I want to be prepared for anything.”

  — 30 —

  Avalo
n

  King Arthur answered with the voice of death,

  “I go unto the Isle of Avalon;

  For there they say, at last I shall find rest.”

  — Sara Hammond Palfrey

  The golf course rolled by on their right, its fairways overgrown. The greens were peppered with desert weeds and the pins that marked the hole locations were bent or had toppled over, their shredded red flags hanging limply in the cool air. All in all, the course had seen much better days.

  So far, they had encountered no Variants. The structures they’d passed were few and mostly businesses or government buildings. Their mission was to gather supplies and not hunt the infected; however, if they stumbled across any of the virus-ridden creatures, they’d happily eliminate them.

  The paved road was barely two lanes across, only slightly wider than the dirt trails that crisscrossed most of the rest of the island. Hauling asphalt from the mainland was expensive, and most of Catalina’s activity was centered on the harbor town. That was where they found their first paved road. Besides, the tourists who had ventured inland were almost all hikers, and an asphalt road held little interest to them.

  A second fairway came into view and the land took on a more urban setting. A knee-high rock retaining wall appeared on their left, holding back a small hill that crested about ten meters above. On their right, a mesh net was strung next to the road, designed to prevent errant golf balls from striking any passing vehicles. Ahead, multi-story buildings seemed to rise from the desert mountainside, announcing that they’d arrived at the small town’s outskirts.

  The hill next to them receded and Carver slowed down as the island’s school came into view. The parking lot was empty, and the doors shuttered.

  “Looks abandoned,” Gavin remarked.

  “Yeah. I’m done with infected kids,” Carver replied, remembering their escape from the children’s hospital. The sight of the tiny Variants still haunted his dreams.

  Gavin marked the spot on his map, indicating there was a low probability of Variant presence.

  Ahead, a cross street angled in from the left. Carver stopped at the intersection and gazed back up the hill. Dozens of homes and apartments lined the road. In the distance, a large hotel dominated the skyline. Suddenly, the magnitude of making the island safe took on a whole new meaning. If there were five thousand residents to begin with, then there had to be over a thousand structures to clear.

  Carver felt a depression descend on him as he tried to comprehend the task they’d taken on. None of his teammates dared disturb his trance, but his fellow SEAL had no problem.

  Shader’s horn blared, shaking Carver out of his stupor.

  “Red One. What’s taking so long?” Shader barked over the radio.

  Carver ignored the jab and pushed forward. The town rapidly grew, and the road came to a dead end.

  “Make a right, then eight streets down to the dead end and make a left,” Gavin said.

  Carver followed instructions, and after several turns, they approached one of the island’s two hardware stores.

  The ocean came into view as they wound down the road. Hundreds of private boats dotted the harbor, confirming that many of the mainland’s sailors had come to the island, seeking refuge.

  “Jeez. You can almost jump ship-to-ship out there,” Gavin commented.

  He wasn’t far off. In many spots, the boats had tied themselves together, creating a bridge to the harbor’s dock. Some of these were several dozen in length.

  “Over there,” Gavin said, pointing at an oceanside building.

  It didn’t look promising. The hardware store was the larger of the two on the island and wasn’t much more than a small storefront.

  They drove around the back of the building and parked the two pickup trucks. The town remained silent, which was both a relief and concerning. Carver expected some Variant presence and, so far, there had been nothing.

  “What’s wrong?” Gavin asked.

  Carver jumped out of the truck with Shrek at his heels. “Where are all the residents? Five thousand people don’t just disappear.”

  The eight men gathered between the two trucks.

  Carver continued to express his concerns. “We haven’t seen a single soul. There has to be someone or something alive. It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “I don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Shader replied. “It is what it is. Let’s just finish the mission and get back to the ranch.”

  The back of the building had no signs to demark which door led to the hardware store. Carver had hoped for a cage or small laydown yard where supplies could be stored. The lack of an outside storage area didn’t bode well.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Carver said.

  They drove around to the front of the building and set up a perimeter around the glass front door. It was a small business, and both Shader and Carver exchanged doubtful glances.

  Shader produced his lock pick set and had the place open within a minute.

  Carver’s Red Team breached the building, with Shader’s men holding guard outside. The business was as small as Carver had feared. They moved as pairs, each striding up one of the store’s six aisles.

  “Over here,” Gavin called.

  Carver rounded the corner and saw Gavin shining a light on some plumbing supplies. A stack of PVC leaned against the wall; there were no more than a dozen of them. Hardly enough to repair more than a few leaks.

  They quickly cleared the building, finding a few more items in a back room. Carver called Shader inside and showed him the few items they had recovered.

  “Jackpot,” Shader said sarcastically.

  “Yeah. Let’s load them all into your truck.”

  “I don’t know if we have the room.”

  Shader’s deadpan expression would have made Carver chuckle if the situation had been less dire. Instead, he shook his head. “No kidding.”

  Within a few minutes, the store had been cleared of anything of value. Electric supplies and pipes barely filled a third of Shader’s truck bed. He looked at the anemic load. “Let’s head back. We obviously need to come up with a different plan.”

  “Not yet. Let’s take a look around. Put two rifles in the beds for the ride back. It’s not like we don’t have the room,” Carver said.

  “You’re the boss. Maybe we can find an ice cream stand. I’d love a sundae.”

  Carver snorted and hopped back into his truck, Shrek at his heels. Two men took a place in each truck’s bed, the galvanized cages they’d welded on when they first landed at Twin Harbor protecting them as they traveled.

  The teams cruised the small town, anticipating a rush from a hidden pack of Variants. Instead, it was a ghost town, as though an alien ship had beamed the residents up and left nothing but the buildings behind. So far, the seagulls that bobbed in the harbor’s waters, along with the occasional raven and mourning dove, were their only companions. The streets were clear of human detritus, and hardly a scrap of paper—or any other garbage—could be found.

  “These are the cleanest Variants I’ve ever seen,” Gavin remarked as they slowly drove along another of the town’s roads. The home-lined streets moved up and down the mountainside. Every door was closed with not a single window broken. Compared with the mainland, it was remarkable.

  “I thought clearing the town would be an impossible task,” Carver said to Gavin. “But it looks like they cleared themselves.”

  Carver was drifting downhill. They were nearly finished with their sweep, having moved through most of the town. The edge of the ocean came into view as they got to the bottom of the hill. A large structure sat at the tip of the northern point of the harbor.

  The giant, round building rose from the land off in the distance. Five stories tall, it lorded over the end of the harbor. Boats of various sizes bounced on the surf nearby, giving Carver a frame of reference as to the size of the structure. It was massive.

  Gavin had his binoculars up to his eyes, gazing at the or
nate, deco building.

  “Sir. I think I found our missing residents.”

  Carver glassed the area. “Yeah. That’s a shitload of golf carts,” he murmured.

  Most of the residents of the small town used them to move around the city, as the number of cars allowed on the island was strictly regulated. Carver lost count of the number of electric vehicles parked at and around the giant structure.

  “That’s the Casino,” Gavin said, checking his map. “It’s huge.”

  The radio crackled and Shader’s voice barked at them. “You two having fun up there?”

  Carver keyed the mic. “You better come up here. You need to see this.”

  “Holy hell,” Shader grumbled as he gazed through his binoculars. “That place has to be crawling with them.”

  Carver estimated that almost a thousand golf carts were stacked around the building.

  “Well, this might explain everything.” Gavin pointed at some flyers tacked onto the side of a local building. He stepped closer and tore one off the wall then handed it to Carver.

  The print had faded over the months, but enough of the ink remained to read it.

  “Seems the hospital was relocated to the Casino,” Carver said. “Makes sense since it’s probably the largest building on the island.”

  “That means we found the Variants,” Shader added. “We better get back to the ranch and figure out our next step.”

  “Hey, Chief,” a team member said. “Look out there.”

  Carver and Shader stared out into the harbor to where the man was pointing. All they saw was a cluster of boats.

  “I don’t see…” Then Shader saw a flash. “Yeah, I see it. The flash of light. It’s probably just the sun bouncing off a wind screen.”

  “I thought that, too,” the man replied. “But count the flashes. It’s pretty consistent.”

  Shader continued to watch. “There. Three flashes. Yeah…three flashes, three times. Remind you of anything?”