Surviving Rage | Book 2

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Surviving Rage | Book 2 Page 66

by Arellano, J. D.


  Beyond that...nothing.

  What remained of the structure was little more than a few steel girders, twisted and leaning amongst the rubble that once comprised the store. Mounds of ash, three to four feet high in some places, likely represented everything that had been stored within the structure; the beds, the chairs, the dressers, the lamps, pillows, drapes, cabinets, cutting boards, patio furniture, and so much more, all reduced to piled cinders.

  “Shit!” Daniel said between breaths.

  “Where to?” Paul asked.

  Daniel slowed, moving off the road towards the driveway entrance to what remained of the IKEA. He knew they shouldn’t be stopping, but he needed at least a minute to catch his breath.

  Stepping onto the curb, he leaned against the stop light pole and put his hands on his head as he sucked in air. Looking across the street, he saw a McDonald’s, a dry cleaner’s, a Supercuts, and a gas station. With broken windows, doors broken or propped open, and dead bodies in excess, none looked promising.

  Looking around, his eyes settled on a brown sign with white letters.

  Business District →

  Taking another gulp of air, he lowered his arms and nodded. “Alright, that way.”

  Starting slowly, they began running again, increasing speed gradually until they were once again running at near top speed.

  Behind them, they heard the sound of the big SUV getting closer, its wheels screeching on the road as it swerved back and forth, avoiding the abandoned vehicles in the road. A sudden roar from the vehicle’s engine told Daniel the one thing he’d feared.

  They’d been spotted.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE

  Palo Alto, California

  “How is it?” Serafina asked, looking at her stepdaughter.

  “It’s okay,” Ashley said, moving slowly as she gingerly walked back and forth in the lobby of the bank. Her ankle was tightly wrapped, covered in a thick mass of tightly wound strips of bright red cotton, which they’d made from the bank’s logo t-shirts. Serafina had found the shirts in a box under the desk of the branch manager, then showed Brenna the length and width of the strips she’d need and proceeded to use piece after piece of the cotton strips to immobilize the older girl’s ankle.

  “I think I’ll be okay walking,” Ashley said, feeling more confident now.

  “How about running, though?” Serafina asked. “We don’t know if or when we might encounter more of those...things, and if it happens, we’ll have to run.”

  “Let me try,” the teenager replied, taking a deep breath. Stepping off, she trotted around the lobby for a few seconds, then nodded. “I’ll be okay.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Okay,” she replied, nodding. It had already been thirty minutes, longer than what Daniel had estimated it would take he and Paul to lead the infected away and into the sports fields, and she was beyond restless.

  “Brenna, how’s it look out there?” she asked.

  Calling out from her spot near the front window, Brenna nodded. “All clear. Looks like they all chased after Dad and Paul.”

  Serafina and Ashley walked over to where Brenna was, each with their backpack on their shoulders. Together the three of them took a long look through the spiderwebbed glass of hte front window. After several minutes, they stepped back. The girls looked at their stepmother, expectantly.

  “Alright, everyone take a quick sip of water, then we’re heading out.”

  Each of them did so, then moved to the door. Serafina unlocked it slowly, opened it, and stepped through, back out into the warm, humid, morning air. She waited, listening intently for several long moments before nodding and encouraging the girls to join her.

  ‘Screw waiting,’ she thought to herself, as she and the girls began making their way towards Middlefield Road. They expected to either meet Daniel and Paul on their way back to the bank or to see them emerge from the backside of the community park’s sports fields onto the street.

  Twenty minutes later they reached Middlefield road, wondering why they hadn’t encountered the two men yet.

  Had something happened to them?

  Had they taken a different route?

  Had the infected caught them?

  Had someone else?

  “Where do you think they are, Auntie?” Brenna asked, looking out onto the wide street, worry showing on her face.

  “I’m not sure,” Serafina answered noncommittally. “They should be here by now.”

  Looking off to her right, there was little to see, other than a bright orange lowrider parked against the curb.

  Off to her left, closer to the intersection they stood by, what looked like a cell phone lay on the street near a dark red stain of what appeared to be blood. From the way the sunlight reflected off of it, the stain appeared to have been only recently created.

  ‘What the hell happened here?’ she wondered.

  Looking back and forth along the street, she saw no signs of movement and little to see aside from the lowrider off to her right and an armored truck off to her left.

  Could the blood stain be from Daniel or Paul?

  “Girls, let’s check that out,” she said, pointing. “Stay close.”

  “Okay,” Ashley replied.

  “Kay,” Brenna said as well.

  The three of them made their way over to where the blood stain was and looked down at it. The cell phone was an older model Motorola, one of the more simplistic ones that did little more than make calls and send text messages - if you were willing to put in a lot of effort.

  Definitely not Daniel’s or Paul’s.

  “Hey, check that out,” Brenna said, pointing at the ground.

  Serafina looked over. “What is it?”

  Brenna leaned down to get a closer look. “I think….yeah, that’s a feather from one of Paul’s arrows.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Brenna reached back and pulled her quiver over to the side, then withdrew an arrow and passed it to Serafina.

  It took all of one glance to verify the feathers were identical, both made by the same person: Janice, their neighbor at the cabin in Big Bear.

  “You’re right,” Serafina said, nodding, before passing the arrow to Ashley, who looked at it and quickly agreed.

  “Yup,” she said,handing the arrow back to her sister.

  “So he shot someone with an arrow? But why?” Serafina asked aloud.

  Each of the girls shook their heads, not having a clue as to why such a thing would have occurred.

  After a moment, Ashley said, “You know, that’s probably why they didn’t come back this way.”

  “Because they wouldn’t want to bring trouble our way,” Serafina finished, nodding.

  Turning around to look at the area, Serafina wondered where Paul would have shot the arrow from. While it was highly effective, it was no match for a gun, so it wasn’t something that would be used in the open.

  Which meant he’d have been concealed at the time.

  Looking back towards where they’d met the road, she saw a dirty Honda crossover vehicle. “Let me check something out real quick,” she said, stepping away from the girls. “Stay here, it’ll just take a second.” She jogged over to the Honda and looked at it.

  Bingo.

  There were two circular points rubbed into the thick layer of dust on the hood of the vehicle.

  ‘Daniel would have rested his elbows here as he tried to take a shot at someone,’ she thought, looking back towards where the girls stood, ‘but he wouldn’t be able to focus at that range.”

  So Paul took the shot with his bow.

  ‘Still,’ she said to herself. ‘Why?’

  As she walked back over to where the girls waited, she saw Ashley looking towards the armored truck.

  “What’s that yellow thing?” she asked, pointing.

  “I have no idea,” she replied, shaking her head, adding, “but seeing as how that Honda, this stain, and that truck form
a triangle, I’m thinking it’s important somehow. Let’s check it out.”

  The three of them walked towards the truck slowly, their eyes continually scanning the truck’s interior for movement. Once they were closer, Serafina could see cables going from the yellow box into the engine compartment of the truck.

  ‘Looks like someone’s trying to charge it,’ she thought.

  Did Daniel and Paul attack whoever was trying to start the truck?

  She couldn’t see that happening. No matter how desperate they got, it wasn’t in Daniel’s character to kill someone and take what was theirs.

  As they reached the truck, she told the girls to keep an eye out for anything on the street as she checked out the back area. She walked down its right side, heading towards the cargo area. Most likely it would be open and empty, having been cleared of the money it’d once carried.

  Moving around to the rear of the big truck, she instead found the doors tightly closed.

  Reaching up for the handle to the door, she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Her knife was out in an instant as she spun to her right, ready to fling the blade towards the person.

  A blonde woman stood there, pointing a gun at Serafina.

  “What the hell do you want?” the woman asked.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWO

  East Palo Alto, California

  “I can’t believe you kissed my sister,” Phillip said, shaking his head.

  “Dude, I said I’m sorry,” Aaron replied, shaking his head.

  The fellow Marine grinned as he looked over at his friend. “I know, brother. I’m just fucking with ya.”

  Looking off towards the entrance to the Dumbarton Bridge, which was still a mile away, he laughed. “Dude, that’s messed up.”

  Phillip reached over and was about to punch the other man in the arm when he paused suddenly. Looking off to the south, he asked, “You hear that?”

  “Yep,” Aaron replied. “Sounds military.”

  “Agree,” Phillip said, nodding. “Sounds big, too. Whaddaya think? C-5?”

  Aaron nodded. “Maybe.” Breaking his focus away from the horizon, he looked around their immediate vicinity, checking for threats. Satisfied that there was no one nearby, he scanned the area again. “The truck over there would be a good spot to watch if you want,” he offered, pointing at a black Ford 350.

  “Yeah, what the heck,” Phillip replied. “We should see it soon, and it’ll probably pass overhead quickly.”

  The two of them walked over to the turck and hopped up onto its hood, where they rested their rifles across their laps as they sat back to watch the plane’s arrival. Soon it became clear that though they’d been correct about the fact that it was a military aircraft, they’d guessed wrong on which type.

  “I think those things are called Beastmasters,” Aaron said, watching the plane grow larger as it approached.

  “Globemaster, brother.” Phillip said, correcting him.

  “Look at choo,” Aaron said, chuckling. The big aircraft was over the south end of the bay and beginning its descent as it headed towards the international airport to the north. “You trying to join the Chair Force or somethin’?”

  “Fuck you-,”

  The sound of gunfire coming from somewhere on their end of the bridge.

  “Shit!!” Aaron said, grabbing his rifle and jumping off the truck.

  Phillip did the same, his face changing from one of amusement to one of severity in the blink of an eye. Falling in next to Aaron, he checked his gun out of habit, asking, “What’s our play, here?”

  “I’m thinking we close in on the location of the shooting. Hopefully it’s not her. If it is, we intervene only if she’s in danger.”

  “Otherwise, we wait until the shooting stops,” Phillip finished. “Less to deal with that way.”

  “Exactly,” Aaron said, nodding.

  The two men broke into a jog, moving in the energy-conserving manner they’d practiced.

  The shooting stopped suddenly. A second later, they heard a loud bang.

  “Fuck,” Phllip said, simply. “You know what that was,”

  Aaron nodded. “A fuckin’ grenade.” He’d heard enough of them, both in training and in the field, to recognize the sound instantly.

  “Can’t be good.”

  They’d covered less than a tenth of a mile when Phillip stopped suddenly. Looking up in the sky, he threw his arm out, grabbing his friend’s sleeve

  A missile zoomed through the sky, headed towards the big grey plane. Countless small explosions came from the aircraft as it deployed its flares, sending bright, burning, lightweight metal into the sky. As they watched in shock, the wide-bodied aircraft banked away from the inbound missile, allowing the flares to draw it in.

  A second missile flew past, following a similar trajectory as the first, just as the aircraft was turning back towards its original course.

  “Oh no…” Phillip uttered, his words barely audible.

  The missile slammed into the aircraft, ripping a hole in its side. Seconds later, the aircraft was heading for the earth with one engine missing, the other stalled and useless, half of its left wing missing, and a gaping hole in its left side.

  “What the fuck?” Aaron asked aloud as the plane disappeared from view.

  First they’d hit a goddamn IED (in America!), then they’d heard heavy gunfire, followed by an exploding grenade somewhere out on the bridge, and now they’d watched a U.S. Military aircraft get shot down.

  There was no other way to describe it.

  They were in a war zone.

  CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED THREE

  Over Redwood City, California

  Captain Quinn felt like he was pulling the controls of the giant aircraft through quick drying cement as he desperately tried to bring the C-17’s nose up in an effort to delay the inevitable impact. Looking ahead, he saw the telltale square-shaped, lush green area of a huge, 18-hole golf course. Though it was far from his first choice, it was much more preferable than colliding with the buildings, homes, and other structures below. It would be much better if the area was flater, but ultimately, grass, sand, and water were more forgiving than wood, concrete, and rebar.

  But first, they had to reach it.

  “Come on, you sonofabitch!” he yelled, pulling even harder on the yoke as he fought against gravity’s pull on the aircraft’s 280,000 pound frame.

  In the seat next to him, First Lieutenant Knight felt helpless as he looked at the seemingly endless array of switches, toggles, and buttons.

  “What can I do?”

  Shaking his head, Quinn replied, “I don’t know!” He swore aloud, adding, “Fuck! Pray!!”

  Knight felt the violent shaking of the aircraft as it threatened to break apart while they continued to make their barely controlled descent towards the earth. Directly ahead of them, a series of multiple three-story apartment buildings stood in the path of their downward trajectory.

  They wouldn’t clear them.

  Not even close.

  ‘Might as well,’ he thought to himself. Though he identified as a Christian, he was the first to admit that he rarely practiced the religion. His knowledge of it being weak, he went with the one prayer he did know.

  “Our Father, which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.”

  A huge section of the aircraft’s exterior on its left side tore away, ripping free and flying away from the aircraft and briefly flying underneath them.

  Creating a sudden increase in lift.

  Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done,”

  The C-17 cleared the apartment buildings, heading towards the golf course at a speed far too great for any type of controlled landing.

  “In earth as it is in heaven -

  In a flash, an idea entered Quinn’s mind, making him call out.

  “Stop!”

  “What?”

  “Shut up! Listen, try the reverse thrusters on Engine Two.”

  “What? But it’s - ”

  �
�Just do it!”

  Knight lunged forward and pressed the button for the reverse thrusters.

  The thrusters on the damaged engine choked and stopped, choked and stopped as they tried in vain to start.

  “Now the other side, hurry!”

  Knight hit the buttons for the thrusters on Engines Three and Four. They came to life instantly.

  Airspeed dropped immediately in response as the thrusters on the right side of the C-17 diverted the thrust, using it against the plane’s forward motion.

  But the action slowed the right side of the aircraft more than it did the left side of the aircraft, slowly starting to bring the nose away from the golf course.

  “Shit!” Quinn yelled, realizing what was happening. “Cut it!”

  Knight jammed his thumb into each control, ending the actions of the thrusters.

  “Landing gear!” Quinn ordered, struggling to maintain control of the aircraft.

  Knight flipped the switch for the landing gear, watching as the light slowly illuminated, indicating they were in the Down position. The additional drag slowed the aircraft, but only a little.

  The Reverse Thruster on the remaining port side engine came to life, pushing air forward.

  “It’s not possible-”

  Quinn’s eyes bulged in disbelief as he saw the indicator illuminate. Instantly, he shouted, “Reverse Thruster Engine Three!”

  Knight slammed his finger into the button.

  The thruster responded, pushing air forward. Together, the two thrusters, combined with the additional drag caused by the extended landing gear, slowed the aircraft tremendously just before impact.

  To a speed of two hundred and seventeen miles per hour.

  From the moment of impact until the aircraft stopped, Major Quinn and Lieutenant Knight were little more than another passenger aboard the C-17’s massive frame. The aircraft slammed into the ground with incredible force, separating the tail section from the rest of its body as the rear landing gear took the brunt of the impact. The aircraft bounced on the uneven surface, catching air as the ground sloped down and away, introducing open space below its frame, before slamming into the upper edge of a sand trap. The impact cracked the frame of the aircraft, causing panels and sections of its latter half to fall away, leaving a wide trail of composite materials, metal, and hydraulic fluid in its wake.

 

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