Countdown to Oblivion

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Countdown to Oblivion Page 4

by Heath Stallcup


  “Yeah.” Hatcher answered slowly. “What are you thinking?”

  Hollis shrugged. “There have been rumors of people…out there.” He pointed out of a window. “In what’s left of the world. People who are immune.”

  Hatcher raised a brow. “You think maybe he’s…” he trailed off.

  Hollis shrugged again. “He was at ground zero and none of that crap raining down on him got him infected. People a thousand miles away were infected as soon as the trade winds carried it to them. You do the math.”

  Hatcher glanced at the boy and shook his head. “I wonder if he suspects?”

  “I doubt it. He probably figures he’s been lucky so far.” Hollis nodded toward his prone figure. “I need to take him back and let our researchers take a look at him.”

  “What about Brenda? If she’s immune, then shouldn’t she be enough?”

  Hollis pulled Hatcher aside. “Look, I’m no virologist, but this thing has mutated so many times since the initial release…yeah, she may be immune, but to what strain?” He pointed to Buck. “The kid was at ground zero. The primordial strain came from here. Unmutated. And somehow he survives?”

  Hatcher blew his breath out slowly. “So, you’re saying you’re gonna need him for testing.”

  Hollis nodded. “I didn’t want to say anything until we were closer to being out of the fire, but yeah. I want to take him back and get him a screening.”

  Hatcher turned wary eyes. “What will they do to him?”

  Hollis seemed confused. “They’ll probably just draw some blood for testing. If he’s carrying the virus or the antibodies for it, then they’ll probably need more.”

  “How much more?” Hatcher’s meaning wasn’t missed.

  Hollis gave him a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, Ranger. They’re not going to hurt him.” He turned to leave then added, “You’ll see for yourself when we get back and your friend Brenda is still just fine.”

  “Stain?” Roger pulled his sunglasses off and eyes the man cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking for you. You never checked in and we couldn’t raise you on the radio.”

  Roger patted his pocket and groaned. “I must have lost it.” He slipped his glasses back on and sat back on his bike. “In all the confusion, I wasn’t thinking.”

  “Confusion?” Stain crossed his arms and gave him a cautious stare.

  “Yeah, tell me something, in your dealings with the ragers, have you ever see them do anything that made you think they could…think?”

  Stain raised a brow and looked at him as though he had lost his ever-loving mind. “The ragers? Think?”

  “Yeah.” Roger nodded. He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I just rode through a trap of theirs.”

  Stain shook his head. “Not possible.”

  “I would have said the same thing yesterday, but it was like they knew I was coming and they set up a trap between two wrecks.” He leaned forward and eyed the group. “And as I was trying to escape, one of them threw a piece of pipe at my tires. Like he was trying to jam me up.”

  Stain shook his head. “You been smoking too much wacky weed, man. Ragers can’t think.”

  Roger shrugged. “I got this creepy feeling, man.” He started his bike and revved the engine a few times. “I just can’t shake it.”

  “So, what are you doing?” Stain asked.

  Roger gave him a blank look. “I’ve been all over this town, man. If that truck came from here, I can’t find it.” He nodded with his jaw. “I figure they had to come from Albuquerque.”

  Stain raised a brow at him. “That was an awful fast run through. This town ain’t exactly small.”

  Roger nodded. “But if he had a camp, they’re either gone or so small that they could be hiding anywhere. I say we move on to Albuquerque and look for them there.” He gave the man a sinister grin. “It’s a bigger town, more resources…odds are much higher they originated from there. So why not skip to the chase.”

  Stain nodded slowly. “You got a point.” He turned to the others, “You heard the man. Move out.”

  The bikers all started their engines and Roger held a hand out to Stain. “I need to radio Simon and let him know where we’re headed.”

  Stain shook his head. “You ain’t good at holding on to radios. I’ll let him know.”

  Roger nodded. “That works, too.”

  He revved the engine then kicked the bike into gear. In his best Bugs Bunny imitation, he muttered, “I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.”

  “She’s burning up, doc.” Jason paced the tiny room while Vivian LaRue checked Bren’s vitals. “I know you said that it could be viral and if the meds didn’t take that it must be, but she can’t even hold down water anymore. She’s throwing up everything she’s eaten since kindergarten.” He implored with his eyes. “Please, you gotta do something.”

  Vivian nodded as she stood. “She’s severely dehydrated. I need to get her on an IV right away.” She turned to walk out of the room and Jason followed her.

  “You gonna put her in there with them?” His voice was barely a whisper.

  Vivian had to take a moment to realize what he was asking. “Oh, no, no, no. I’ll send a gurney for her and we’ll take her to the infirmary. She’ll have round the clock care.” She gave him a reassuring smile and patted his arm. “I’ll send somebody straight away.”

  He watched her walk away and he had to pause and collect himself before he went back into the small stateroom he shared with Bren. He saw her laying in sweaty sheets, tossing and turning fitfully. He sat beside her and held her hand in his own. “You’re gonna be just fine, baby. I promise. The doc’s gonna take good care of you.”

  He lost track of time, and actually jumped when the door bounced open. Two large men in white entered, pulling a rolling bed with them. Jason didn’t have time to even speak as they gingerly lifted and shifted her to the gurney.

  Jason opened his mouth to tell her goodbye, but she was gone too quickly. He turned back to her bed and cringed at the moisture she had left on the sheets. He picked them up with his fingertips and held them away from his body as he dumped them into a trash bag.

  He had no idea what had gotten her so sick, but he shuddered every time he thought of what could be floating in the air, soaked into her sheets, or crawling on her skin.

  Yes, he loved her and would do anything for her, but the knowledge she carried the very disease that killed off the grand majority of the human population was enough to give him the willies. The fact that something else had now made her sick twisted his guts. How could she be immune to a virus that gutted the population, but something else…something potentially worse was making her ill now? What chance would he have against such a disease?

  He snatched up the antibacterial hand cleaner and squeezed a large gob onto his palms. After scrubbing it into his flesh, he then grabbed the can of spray disinfectant and sprayed down her mattress. He stood back and stared at the tiny room.

  Jason went nuts and began spraying disinfectant on every horizontal surface. He sprayed the door knob, the little desk in the corner, the shelves above their beds, both beds, the bedding, the floor, the seams of the wall, anywhere a microbe might think it a good place to hide.

  He had nearly emptied the can before he staggered back and stared at the mess he’d created. He opened the door and nearly fell out of the room from the propellants and the disinfectant that still lingered in the air.

  “I gotta catch my breath.” He leaned against the bulkhead and made his way to the stairs leading up and out. He hoped that some fresh air might clear his head and give him a new perspective.

  He stepped out into the evening air and inhaled deeply. He made his way to the railing and stared out at the flotilla. Was this all that was left now? Were they the only survivors of this attack by Mother Nature?

  He leaned against the railing and spit out across the water. The taste of the disinfectant still lingered in his mouth. He inh
aled deeply of the salty sea air and his thoughts turned back to Brenda. What if this bug was more than she could handle? What if this was another, stronger, more potent virus than the first one?

  He pushed the thought from his mind and stared back at the doorway leading below decks. He really needed to check on her. He needed to know they really were taking care of her and not letting her rot in a corner somewhere.

  He swallowed hard and hitched up his pants. Being Bren’s protector was a dirty job, but somebody had to do it.

  “He’s turned them away from us.” Candy took the binoculars from the roof guard and stared in the direction he pointed. She could just make out a small group of motorcycles driving away from the warehouse. She followed them as they rode away and wished she could tell which one was actually Roger.

  She lowered the binoculars and handed them back to the man standing sentry. “Keep an eye out. If they happen to come back this direction, I want to know.”

  “You got it.” He took the optics from her and leaned against the parapet, his hands bringing them back to his face.

  Candy worked her way back down and through the maze of makeshift homes toward Hatcher’s office. Vicky Sue slipped in beside her. “How you doing?”

  Candy gave her little notice. “I’m fine.”

  “You seem a little…distracted.”

  She stopped and turned to Hatcher’s sister. “What does that mean?”

  Vicky shrugged. “Just that I think the biker cop got to you.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She turned and started back to the office. Vicky followed.

  As Candy opened the door, Vicky held it open and followed her into the small space. “You miss him, don’t you?”

  “I have no idea what you mean.” Candy fell into the chair behind the desk and reached for the drawer where Hatcher kept his booze. She grabbed the tallest bottle and pulled it out. Vicky set two glasses in front of her and leaned back in the chair across from the desk.

  “I think you do.” She reached for the glass and held it up, the amber liquid sparkling under the brightness of the skylight overhead. “It’s okay to admit you liked him.”

  Candy threw back her drink and set her glass down gently. “He was another cop, that’s all.” She poured two more fingers worth into the short glass. “It might have been nice to have another capable person available to help defend the place should the need arise.”

  “Should the need arise.” Vicky sipped at the burning liquid. “That’s a choice set of words.”

  “What?” Candy threw back the second drink and waivered with the bottle, unsure if she was going to pour a third.

  “You know you can be straight with me, right?” Vicky swirled the liquor in her glass and eyed the bottle that Candy still held, unsure if she would pour that third double. “We’ve always shot straight with each other before. Why not now?”

  Candy sighed and tilted the bottle, pouring another double before corking the bottle and dropping it back into the deep desk drawer. She picked up the glass and stared at the contents. The burn in her belly told her not to swallow this one. She could feel her head begin to swim and knew that if anything bad were to happen, she wouldn’t be able to deal with it while inebriated.

  “He didn’t even say goodbye.” She held the glass to her mouth and sipped. She turned red eyes to Vicky. “I know it’s stupid of me. He just showed up, warned us about his group, and then—”

  “Then he left to lead them away.” Vicky sipped at her own drink. “Sounds pretty honorable to me.”

  Candy sniffed back a tear and threw back her drink. She swallowed hard and set the glass down on the desk. “I told him to just…” She turned watering eyes to Vicky. “I didn’t think he’d actually leave.”

  Vicky set her drink down and took Candy’s hand. “I’d bet money he’ll be back.”

  Candy shook her head. “Not without tipping his hand to them.” She looked away. “He should have stayed. We could have fought them off and…” her voice trailed off.

  “And our people would have been put at risk.” Vicky patted her hand. “Like you said, he’s a cop. He wasn’t going to allow that to happen. He figured it was better to go back to them, pretend he never met us and do his damnedest to keep them away.”

  Candy turned back to face her and shook her head slowly. “I barely know this guy.”

  Vicky gave her a broad smile. “But he was definitely yummy.” She laughed and Candy let a snort slip.

  “Yes, he was yummy.” She spun the empty glass on the table, her thoughts turning to how he made those leather pants look. “I can’t help but wonder if maybe I’d been more accepting of him when he first got here? Maybe…we would have had a little more time together.”

  “You were being cautious.” Vicky threw back what was left of her drink and blew her breath out hard. “That stuff is stout. How do you handle it?”

  Candy smiled. “I ignore the pain.” She turned a tight-lipped smile to Vicky. “Just like I’ll ignore this pain that I feel.”

  “He really got to you, didn’t he?”

  Candy shrugged. “I feel like I threw him to the wolves.” She leaned back in the chair and stared up at the skylight. “I’ll admit he is attractive…in a rough and scrubby way.”

  “You like rough and scrubby.” Vicky smiled at her.

  Candy chuckled, still staring upward. “What woman doesn’t?” She finally leaned forward and had to take a moment as her head spun. “I’m sure he was just flirting so that I’d let him loose.”

  “Really.” Vicky wasn’t convinced.

  Candy nodded. “If he was really interested, he would have stayed.”

  Vicky squeezed her hand, then stood and reached for the door. “It’s because he cared that he left.” She opened the door and stepped out. “He had to keep you safe from the marauders.” She pulled the door shut quietly and left Candy to her thoughts.

  Vicky could have sworn she heard a short sob as she turned and walked away.

  Chapter 5

  Hatcher stood on the porch and watched as the sun slowly sank on the horizon. At this exact moment in time, he found it difficult to believe that the world had gone to shit. For the briefest of moments, he could almost believe the world had survived the viral outbreak.

  He stared at the view and sighed.

  The world had gone to shit, and the universe didn’t care. The sun still set, and it would rise again in the morning. The moon would come out and slip across the night sky and the stars would continue to twinkle regardless of what had happened on this insignificant blue dot.

  Dinosaurs had ruled the planet for millions of years and nobody batted an eye when they were wiped out. Humans had only been on this planet for a moment compared to the grand scheme of things, and what seemed so significant, so important, so earth shatteringly imperative, were really just man’s attempt at feeling empowered in an otherwise uncaring world.

  He leaned against the railing of the porch and tried to make out the shadows below. They stretched out until they faded from view, and in his mind, the dark spots were moving. The dark blobs that were trees when the sun was still shining were now infected Zulus working their way up the mountain toward them.

  He had to step away and stop staring to clear the thoughts from his mind. He glanced over his shoulder and could just make out the soldiers inside the house. Some were moving about, others were busy checking their gear or cleaning their weapons.

  He looked up and wondered if the rooftop guards were still searching the western horizon for aircraft or if they had drifted off to sleep from the boredom. He was about to climb up and check on them when Hollis stepped out to the porch.

  “I got a chili mac MRE if you want to trade.” He shot Hatcher a shitty grin that was lost in the darkness.

  “I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

  “Smart man.” Hollis ripped open the pack and settled next to him along the rail.

  “Wouldn’t want to be caught on the toilet wh
en the Zulus attack,” Hatcher joked.

  “Copy that.”

  Hatcher watched as the man dug through the contents. “You’re far braver than I am.”

  Hollis chuckled. “I think your system gets used to them after a while.”

  The pair stood on the porch, their eyes adjusting to the deepening darkness, neither speaking while the world went about its business. Soft sounds of movement could be heard behind them inside the house, but both knew their backs were covered by the men at their posts.

  Buck appeared behind them, his eyes wide in the moonlight. “I can’t believe I slept so long.”

  Hatcher’s brows knit as he considered what the boy said. “You were only out for a couple of hours.”

  “Exactly.” Buck seemed worried and disappointed. “I never sleep more than a few minutes at a time.”

  Hollis stopped chewing and stared at him. “Seriously, kid? That ain’t healthy. Not sleeping will rot your brain.”

  Buck seemed to pale even more. “Being caught off guard by the zombies can get you dead.” He shivered involuntarily and settled along the rail between the two. “I feel like I let my guard down.”

  Hatcher placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You can. At least for now. We got your back, Buck.”

  He shook his head nervously. “Old habits and all that.” He glanced at the chili mac Hollis had refused to eat. “You gonna eat that?”

  Hollis tossed it to him. “Have at it, kid. Just make sure your gut can handle it.” He watched the wiry teen tear into the bag and practically inhale the food. Hollis dug in his ruck and pulled out another MRE. “Slow down, kid. Maybe chew it a little. It will come out a lot easier if you grind it up first.” He shoved the MRE into Buck’s hand and shot Hatcher a knowing grin.

  Hatcher sighed and stepped away from the rail. “I think I’m gonna catch a few winks myself.” He turned to Buck. “Don’t stay up too late. We might have a big day tomorrow.”

  Buck nodded slightly as he inhaled everything edible in the plastic bag.

 

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