Surviving Rage | Book 2

by Arellano, J. D.

  Soon the young man was throwing the ball with ease, guiding it towards where Logan stood with an awkward, yet effective, throwing motion.

  Watching the teenager catch the ball with his chest and stomach instead of his hands, Daniel smiled and looked away. He didn’t want to correct everything the kid did. Looking around, his eyes settled on Joe, who was sitting near Isabella, talking with her as he munched on a bag of chips. Occasionally he’d pass the bag to her, allowing her to take a handful of chips, smiling as he did so.

  ‘Good to see the guy making friends,’ Daniel thought briefly before being struck in the side of the head with the football. Though the ball was soft and didn’t hurt, it still caught him off guard, rocking his head sideways.

  The group burst out into laughter at the sight of his misfortune.

  Shaking his head, Daniel reached down and picked the ball up off the ground. “Who threw it?”

  Ashley and Brenna pointed at each other in unison.

  Serafina intervened as Daniel pulled his arm back.

  “Time to go!” She said, smiling. When he looked over at her, she tossed him the keys to the car. “You’re driving.”

  Daniel caught the keys in his left hand while holding the ball in his right. He pointed the ball towards the girls, smiling as he jokingly threatened them. “Next time.” He tossed the ball back to Logan before turning and heading to the car.

  It was just after 3 p.m. when they reached the State Routes 43/198 junction outside of Hanford. Slowing as they took the connector to the 198 west, Daniel guided the hybrid vehicle around the sharp curve, looking ahead as he did, wary for signs of anything that might try to impede their progress. Though he felt it unlikely that the black Mustang had come this way, he still chose caution and vigilance as the best approach to their travels along the highways.

  When they merged onto State Route 198 and saw a relatively open road ahead of them (the few cars that remained on the road had been abandoned on the eastbound lanes), he pressed his foot down on the gas, accelerating quietly as the electric motor pushed the small car forward. Glancing to his right, he saw a large cluster of vehicles in the parking lot off to their right, where the Costco was. Fortunately, the lot’s access didn’t connect to the highway, so none of the abandoned/wrecked vehicles were blocking the road.

  Looking towards the parking lot as they drove past, Daniel felt himself slow the vehicle as he and Serafina watched two of the infected run out of the store, chasing a woman as she fled. Within moments, they tackled her, taking her to the ground in a tangle of flying arms and legs.

  While the savagery exhibited by the infected as they tore into the woman wasn’t unlike what they’d seen from others afflicted with the Rage virus, it was still hard to watch. Hair, clothing, and blood flew as the two infected tore into their victim, pulling her apart with their bare hands.

  Feeling helpless, Daniel accelerated, moving them away from the violence as he forced himself to focus on the road.

  Up ahead in the distance, they could see the outer edges of the small town of Lemoore, with a Travelodge sitting dark and quiet about a half-mile off the road ahead on their right. Further on, a grouping of sports fields sat on the right side of the road, their grass overgrown and covered in nearly-formed weeds. A golf course sat on the opposite side of the highway from the sports fields, its grass sharing similar characteristics, evidence of similar neglect. Cars and trucks remained on the shoulder of the road, abandoned and alone, left to gather dust for the foreseeable future.

  Continuing on, they stayed focused on getting through the town and crossing the seven or so miles between the city’s western edge and the eastern part of the Naval Air Station.

  The quiet desolation of the town gave it an eerie feel, enough to keep everyone on edge. Down side streets and off in the distance they saw small groupings of the infected wandering around aimlessly or fighting with each other, injuring and/or killing themselves in the process. When they were closer to the groupings, the cringe-inducing screams of the infected sent chills down their spines.

  After fifteen minutes or so, they crossed State Route 41, leaving the town behind. Looking west, it became clear that NAS Lemoore had suffered a similar fate to that of the other military bases they’d seen. Smoke rose from multiple spots on the base, both in the military operations areas and in the residential/community areas. Along the edges of the highway, the perimeter fence that had been designed to keep out unauthorized personnel had been destroyed, smashed into by large vehicles - trucks, vans, and even heavy duty military vehicles. Around the wreckage, bodies were strewn about, some on the ground, surrounding the vehicles, others inside, on top of, or under the vehicles. Clouds of flies surrounded each accident site, their presence a black wave moving fluidly from one body to another.

  It was the presence of the military vehicles, which had been unsuccessful at breaking through the fence, that made Daniel do a double take.

  “We don’t want to enter the base.” He said, shaking his head in frustration. His desire to come here had taken them hours out of the way for nothing.

  “Really? Why?” Serafina asked.

  “Look at the position of the military vehicles.”

  Serafina looked on, as did the girls from where they sat in the back seat.

  “Shit,” Serafina said, shaking her head as well.

  Ashley’s voice cried out in terrified realization. “They were trying to get out!”

  Daniel nodded, grimacing as he accepted the realization of what that implied.

  “But shouldn’t the military have been able to fight them off?” Brenna asked as she stared towards the broken sections of fence. .

  “In theory, yes,” Daniel began, “but they have to know what they’re fighting and where the threat is. If the virus infected their ranks, weakening and attacking them from the inside, Their efforts to fight or even run would have been doomed from the start. I mean, imagine you’re driving the vehicle, trying to get out, and the person next to you, someone you thought you could trust, attacks you.”

  “Daniel…” Serafina warned. She didn’t want him working the girls into some form of hysteria. Things were challenging enough already without putting the girls in a state of panic, especially Isabella.

  “Sorry,” he replied, looking ahead. Glancing in the mirror, he saw Logan and the others slow as they took in the scene at the base. He imagined Logan’s surprise at the devastation was similar to what he felt. He thought they’d do better at addressing and fighting off the virus. Apparently it had overwhelmed them before they’d even had a chance.

  Considering the damaged military vehicles and their contents, Daniel realized there could be supplies and possibly additional weapons in the wreckage. Pulling to the side of the road, he watched in the mirror to verify Logan was following his lead. They’d agreed to minimize use of the CB radio to avoid gaining unwanted attention during their journey, so when he saw Logan pull over and stop only a short distance behind their car, he breathed a small sigh of relief.

  “What are we doing?” Serafina asked.

  Pointing towards the nearest military vehicle, a Humvee with a body hanging out of a broken windshield, he said, “Gonna check it out, see if there’s anything we can use.”

  “Okay, I’ll - ”

  Daniel cut her off, shaking his head. “Not this time. My turn. You can’t expect me to let you be the one to go into dangerous places every time.” Turning his head to look at her, he finished with, “I got this.” He pressed the ignition button, turning off the engine, and got out of the car, grabbing his shotgun as he did.

  Looking over at the damaged vehicles that were closest to them, he counted four in total, including a faded white truck and a burgundy colored minivan. The minivan had apparently assumed the truck would be successful in its attempt to breach the fencing. When the truck had failed, the van had plowed into it from behind, forcing its rear end upward. Fifty yards on either side of the van/truck mess, military vehicles sat, quietly res
ting on the edge of the fencing, the heavy-duty bars of the fencing wrapped around the vehicles. The closest military vehicle was an M-1117 Armored Security Vehicle. Armored from bumper to bumper, capable of climbing over obstacles of five feet in height, and weighing close to 30,000 pounds, the vehicle should have been capable of getting over and through the fence. For some reason, though, it had struck the fence at an awkward angle, almost taking it on its side instead of straight on. As it was, it rested sideways along the fence, angled downward towards the grass slope that descended from the fence. The other military vehicle was the more common HMMV, or Humvee, which had attempted to break through the fence straight on. The driver’s mistake had been both curious and fatal, having tried to break through one of the heavy-duty, reinforced vertical poles that supported the fence. The pole had barely budged, bending outward slightly without giving much else. It had ripped through the vehicle of the body before stopping the Humvee by crushing through the engine block into the cabin of the vehicle. What remained of the driver was barely visible beyond the pole.

  A voice next to him, asked, “Check ‘em for supplies?”

  Daniel looked over at the sound of the voice. It was Logan. The man’s face was, as almost always, serious as he looked at the wreckage, surveying what was there emotionlessly.

  “Yeah,” Daniel replied. But what’s the deal with M Eleven Seventeen? I thought those things were reserved for use in theater.” The term in theater referred to areas where combat operations were taking place.

  “Not sure,” Logan replied, “but I did hear that they’re testing some experimental aircraft here. Something at the TS level. Guess they felt the need for extra security.”

  Daniel nodded. “Hunh. Makes sense. Guess I’ve been out too long to be in the loop.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “So yeah, look for ammo, food, water, and anything else of value. With any luck we’ll find some or all of it.”

  “Yeah, if they didn’t try to leave without planning to do so first,” Logan responded, looking towards the military vehicles. “Seems unlikely they’d try to exit it here and not through the main gate unless they were running from something.”

  “True.” Daniel hoisted his weapon. “Either way, it doesn’t hurt to check.”

  “Can I come with?” a voice asked. It was Joe, standing behind Logan.

  Daniel turned his head to look at the man while Logan turned around. Since the other man had spent more time with him, Daniel deferred to the Army veteran.

  “Whaddaya think?”

  Logan looked at the other man and nodded. “Sure. It’ll be good to have another set of eyes looking things over. Stay back and let us clear the vehicles first, though.”

  “Can I have a gun?”

  Logan shook his head. “You know how I feel about my guns. Nobody else handles them.”

  Joe turned to Daniel, his eyes looking at him questioningly.

  Daniel shook his head. “We’ve only got two other guns,” he lied smoothly, trusting Logan’s judgement, “Serafina has one, Ashley has the other. I won’t leave them unarmed.”

  Logan stepped in. “Like I said, stay back and let us clear things first.”

  Looking defeated, Joe nodded, looking down and away. “Okay.”

  Daniel glanced over at Serafina and nodded before walking towards the Armored Security Vehicle, descending the slight hill that led to a narrow area designed to gather rainwater and guide it away from the fence towards a drainpipe off to the left. Being summer, the grass was mostly dry, but there was a small patch of darker green along the center of the trough, where water from the area’s sprinkler system found the drain.

  Approaching the first vehicle, Daniel’s eyes found the first body, that of a young female Navy Sailor in green camouflage. Lying face down in the grass near the open driver’s door, the back of her uniform had been torn open, exposing pale flesh that had been pulled and torn. The back of her head was a bloody mess of matted red hair and broken bits of bone.

  Saddened by the loss of the young woman’s life, Daniel’s eyes traveled down her body, settling on the belt at the woman’s waist. The holster for the Sailor’s gun was empty, as were the holders for the spare clips of ammunition. Frowning, he stepped sideways, giving the woman’s body a wide berth as he angled towards the open cabin of the vehicle. Looking upwards into the vehicle, he saw a similarly young man sitting in the passenger seat. His head was tilted backwards, his throat had been torn open, leaving a massive, gaping wound exposed to the flies that feasted on his remains. The man’s mouth hung open as he stared towards the roof of the vehicle for eternity.

  “Check that guy?” Daniel asked of Logan.

  “On it.” The man went around the big vehicle, keeping his weapon trained on it as he moved. Once he reached the other side of the armored vehicle, he quickly opened the passenger side door. The body of the young Sailor slid sideways and downwards, slumping towards Logan, held in place only by the seat belt, which was still engaged. Logan’s eyes traveled along the young man’s body. After a second, he shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “Shit.” Daniel replied. Taking a deep breath, he stepped up onto the metal platform that acted as a step when entering the M-1117, and leaned into the cabin so that he could look into the back of the vehicle. There were three bodies in the rear section of the interior, two men and a woman, all in their mid-twenties. All of them were dead, the young woman and one of the men still strapped in their seatbelts, their faces, throats, and torsos savagely torn apart. The other man’s body laid across them and had reached towards the front seat, his hands still near the throat of the man in the passenger seat. The back of his head had been blown apart by a bullet fired from close range, mostly likely from the young woman based on her position. Her hands were empty, however, as were those of the man seated beside her. Their belts were empty as well.

  Someone had been here already.

  Looking towards the rear of the vehicle, he saw empty boxes sitting in the cargo area. Whoever had taken the Sailors’ weapons had stolen the supplies as well.

  “Dammit,” he muttered, stepping back down from the big vehicle.

  Logan shook his head before backing away from the vehicle and walking over to join him.

  “Nothing?” Joe asked from nearby.

  “No. Someone raided it before we got here.”

  “Can I look?” The man asked.

  “Sure, but be sure not to touch any of the bodies, even if you’ve got gloves.”

  “Okay. Just give me a sec.”

  “Fine,” Daniel replied, turning towards Logan. “I can’t say I blame whoever took the supplies, but it still sucks.”

  “No doubt,” the other man said, shaking his head. “Why don’t you wait for him while I check out the truck and van?”

  “Hold on. Too many possibilities for trouble there. Let me back you up.”

  “Okay.”

  Turning towards the Armored Security Vehicle, Daniel raised his voice. “Let’s go, Joe.”

  “Alright,” Joe said, hopping down from his perch. He shook his head as he approached. “Nothing there.”

  “I know. Come on.” Daniel replied, walking next to Logan as he approached the truck and van. A middle-aged Caucasian woman laid on the ground near the passenger side of the truck, her neck twisted at an awkward angle. Nearby, a small girl laid on her back, staring skyward in death.

  Moving around them Daniel looked into the interior of the truck. The glove compartment was hanging open, its contents spilled out onto the seat and floorboard of the cabin. There appeared to be nothing of value to them, only clusters of papers and a small can of pepper spray. Reaching down, Daniel grabbed the can, turned, and tossed it to Joe. “Here. Better than nothing until we find you a gun.”

  Joe looked at the can briefly before shrugging and stuffing it into his pocket. “Thanks.”

  Sighing in frustration, Daniel moved away from the truck, heading towards the minivan. The smaller vehicle front end was buried under the rear
of the truck, the top of the shattered windshield barely visible above the rear bumper of the large vehicle. Moving around to the sliding door on the passenger side, Daniel motioned for Logan to cover him as he threw open the door. With the exception of the two dead bodies in the front seats of the van, the interior was mostly empty. Breathing through his nose loudly in frustration, Daniel’s eyes settled on a reusable shopping bag tucked behind the driver’s seat. He glanced towards the front seats to make sure the bodies there were actually dead, but after seeing the rear bumper of the truck not four inches from the headrests of the seats, it was clear that no one could survive such an impact. Arms and hands protruded out from under the metal, lifeless and covered in long streams of dried blood.

  Covering his nose, he reached in and grabbed the reusable bag. Stepping back, he looked inside. It wasn’t much - instant noodles and mac and cheese cups, but it was something. Looking around further, he saw two bottles of Gatorade. He grabbed those as well before moving to the back of the van. He opened the rear doors to the van, looking into its interior storage area and finding a box with more food: granola bars, several cans of fruit (both pineapple and peach slices), more instant noodles, a box of cereal (Raisin Bran), two cans of chili, and three cans of soup.

  “Finally,” he said, lifting the box out of the van. Looking towards the Humvee, he could see it was, like the other vehicles, empty. The body of a black male Sailor laid face down on the ground near the passenger side of the vehicle, and the driver’s body was pinned behind the pole.

  “Tell you what,” Daniel said, looking at Logan, “toss that bag on top of this box and I’ll take it to your car. You two check out the Humvee. It looks empty.”

  “Yeah, sounds good. Glad you found that, otherwise this would have been a waste - not that I’m being critical of you, I’d have done the same thing, it’s just that we didn’t expect things to be cleaned out.”

  “Maybe we should have,” Daniel offered, still staring towards the Humvee. After a moment, he added, “well, this is getting heavy. See you back at the car?”