Countdown to Oblivion

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Countdown to Oblivion Page 12

by Heath Stallcup


  He raised a brow. “That isn’t already protocol?”

  She shook her head. “They’re still experimental treatments, sir. But it’s really the only thing we have available.”

  The man sighed and glanced back through the porthole glass. “It’s the only option?”

  She nodded. “At the moment, sir. But that’s not to say that Dr. LaRue won’t return and be able to develop something better.” She slowly blew her breath out. “We just can’t predict how long that might take. He may not have time to…” she trailed off.

  “Time for what?” He turned and faced her. “Are you saying the version he has is fatal?”

  She shook her head. “We can’t know how much brain damage is caused from the infection. If it goes into full-blown infection, he could lose everything that makes him him.”

  The CDO closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. “I have no idea what to do.” He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Do what you feel is most appropriate. This whole section is basically civilian. You just operate on my vessel. You don’t need my permission to do what you need to do.”

  “Very well, sir. Thank you.” She turned and nodded to the technicians preparing the treatments. “Let’s get this started.”

  Candy paced nervously and stiffened when she heard the engine approaching. She rushed to the corner of the gate and saw Roger accelerate the ATV up the road and pull into the staging area.

  “How’d it go?” she asked nervously as he pulled to a stop.

  He stepped off the four-wheeler and sighed. “We talked. He seemed receptive.”

  “But?”

  Roger hung his head. “He can’t think of a way to convince the others without killing Simon.”

  Candy nodded. “Okay.”

  He turned and gave her a curious look. “Okay?”

  “If this guy is as dangerous as you said he is, I can only see his demise as improving the world.” She fell into step beside him.

  Roger understood her logic, but a part of him had hoped that if Simon could just see the possibilities, he could be converted. Another part knew that the only conversion for Simon would be banishment or prison. Death served the same purpose.

  “I guess I had hopes that Mike would have another idea.”

  “Mike?”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “Turns out Savage has a real name. Michael Sutton.” He shook his head. “Who’d have thought that a walking mountain would have a name like Michael Sutton?”

  “I like it.” She hooked her arm through his. “So what’s the plan?”

  Roger paused and glanced around to ensure they were alone. “He plans to kill Simon.”

  She nodded. “And then?”

  “Then, once he takes over and gets the people calmed down and feeling secure, he’ll contact me and I’ll go and talk to them. I’ll introduce them to the idea we had and see about getting them incorporated with us.”

  She nodded. “And how’s he supposed to make contact?” Her gaze narrowed slightly as she waited for his answer.

  Roger smiled at her and patted her hand. “No worries. I didn’t tell him where we are. He’s going to go back to the ambush sight and make enough noise that we can hear him. Then I’ll go to him.”

  “And you don’t think Simon will catch on? Or maybe this Savage is playing you?”

  Roger thought for a moment. “I can go by their camp and see if there’s any signs of excitement. If there is, we hunker down. If not, we cross our fingers and hope.” He blew his breath out and nodded to the kitchen. “I better get some coffee. It could be a long day.”

  She sighed with relief and pulled him toward the cafeteria. “You need to eat. Man cannot live on coffee alone.”

  He chuckled as he fell into step behind her. “Wanna bet?”

  Chapter 13

  Hollis glared at Dr. LaRue. He handed her back his orders and squared his shoulders. “Looks like we trained monkeys are heading to Colorado.”

  “I don’t get it,” Hatcher said, giving him a worried look. “You got your primordial sample. Why on earth would we go to Ft. Collins and rifle through somebody else’s research?”

  “Because it could prove quite useful in our attempts to—”

  “Because orders are orders, ranger,” Hollis said, cutting off Dr. LaRue. “If there’s one thing we trained monkeys are good at, it’s taking orders.”

  Vivian opened her mouth to say something when Hatcher held up a hand to stave off the pissing match. “I get it you have orders. But Buck and I aren’t military. We need to get back to our people.”

  Hollis’ face was stoic. “I can’t help you with that ranger. Ft. Collins is more or less on our way.” He turned and glared at Dr. LaRue. “If somebody knows what they’re doing, then we shouldn’t be there for long. It will barely be a pit stop on your way home.”

  Hatcher groaned and leaned back against the bulkhead. The last thing he wanted was to drag Buck into another potentially hostile environment, especially after just pulling him from one.

  Dr. LaRue eyed Hollis cautiously. She keyed her mic. “Captain, would you please switch to channel three.” It was a command, not a request.

  Hollis was about to tell her that anything she had to say to him, she could say on the primary channel, but she had already switched her headphones. He sighed and connected with her on the new channel.

  “What, doctor?”

  She glared at him. “I am the primary on this little excursion. You and your men are at my disposal. I need you to understand that.”

  “Disposal. Good choice of words for expendable personnel, doctor.”

  “You know what I meant. Don’t twist my words—”

  “I don’t have to twist your words, doctor. I am quite aware of the disdain and contempt you hold for we mere mortals.” If the look he gave her had missed and hit the chopper, it would have peeled the paint. “Trust me. I know how to take orders, ma’am. My men and I are at your disposal.”

  He switched back to the primary channel before she could respond. He may have to follow her lead, but he didn’t have to show her any more respect than she showed him. She wasn’t in his chain of command and she wasn’t military. She was just another civilian with a god complex.

  He turned to his staff sergeant. “Things have the potential to be hairy there. I know you boys are beat, but I need you frosty down there.”

  “We’re good, sir.”

  Hollis could see the fatigue in the man’s eyes. He knew he certainly felt it as well. He squeezed the man’s shoulder. “Get some sleep if you can. We’ll be there sooner than you think.”

  He turned back to Hatcher. “You have no dog in this fight, ranger. I need you to stay on board and if anything happens…” he trailed off.

  “I understand. Get the case back to the fleet.” He glanced at LaRue who was ignoring the conversation. He wondered, if she was the lead researcher, was there still a chance with this black ooze if anything happened to her? He tapped her leg to get her attention. “Hey, doc, what’s this research that’s so important?”

  “There was a scientist with the military that worked out of Fort Collins. He was doing work on the virus before the pandemic.”

  Hatcher nodded, then turned back to her with surprise. “Wait. Before the pandemic? How is that possible?”

  She hemmed slightly before answering. “We had discovered the virus a few years back. We published a paper on it as a possible cause for the extinction of Neanderthal man.”

  “We? You and this researcher?”

  “No, it was another man that I worked with. But I knew the researcher whose work we’re trying to obtain.” She gave him a tight-lipped, but sad smile. “He was a good man.”

  “A good man that was working on this bug? To weaponize it?”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea what they were doing. I just know that it involved the virus. I do know he’s the fellow that invented the sonic generator.”

  Hatcher’s gears spun as he tried to process the info
rmation. “Wait, so…he was working on the virus before it got out, AND he invented the only known device that calms the infected?” He shot her an accusatory look. “Sounds to me like they must have had something to test it on, yeah?”

  She felt her mouth go dry and she tried to swallow the fear that rose up. “I-I can’t say what they had or didn’t have. I just know he was working on the virus.” She had visibly paled.

  Hatcher turned to Hollis who appeared even angrier than before. “Still think I have no reason to be pissed?”

  Dr. LaRue keyed her mic. “Why would you be angry?”

  Hollis stared at her. “You were there, doc. You saw the colonel blow up the top of that mountain. You two were the first to evacuate once he realized what he’d done.” He crossed his arms and glared at her. “Now you’re telling us the military had this virus before its release in the wild and they had the generator.” He looked to Hatcher and shook his head. “Looks like you were right, ranger.”

  “Wait!” Vivian held her hands up to interject. “Right? What was he right about?”

  Hatcher spun her to face him. “That the military KNEW about this shit before it was released. And Vickers dispersed it on purpose.”

  Her eyes widened. “Oh! NO! No, no…he didn’t do it on purpose. He really thought he was destroying the primary vector by blowing up the infected.” She swallowed hard. “He didn’t realize it came from the hot spring until…” her voice trailed off.

  “Until what, doc?” Hatcher barked. “Until we TOLD him? Before he blew up the mountain?”

  She shook her head, ignoring his words. Vickers couldn’t possibly have known. Surely not. He was an ass, but he wouldn’t purposely infect the grand majority of the population…would he?

  She looked up at the two men and opened her mouth, but no words came out.

  Had she been working all this time to try to put the curse back into Pandora’s box? Had it all been an exercise in futility? Had Colonel Vickers done this on purpose? Was he just following orders?

  She took a deep breath and looked up at the two men. “Regardless of how this may have happened, I need that research to try to stop it.” She turned and faced Hollis. “And you will help me make that happen.”

  “Where the hell did you go?” Simon barked, his face red with anger.

  Savage paused and his shoulders slumped. He couldn’t help but see Simon as that little purse dog again. He turned slowly and pulled his sunglasses off. “I went back out to the trap. Something didn’t sit right with me, but I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what.”

  Simon marched up to the big man and glared at him. “You didn’t ask permission first.”

  Savage fought back the urge to crush his head like a grape. “You’re not my dad. I’m a grown-assed man and I’ll do what I need to do.” He bent and lowered his voice. “Your tantrums and intimidation shit might work with the idiots you got riding with you, but it ain’t gonna work with me. I only ride with you and do what you ask because there’s safety in numbers.” He poked the smaller man in the chest with a meaty finger. “You’d do well to remember that.”

  Simon’s eyes bulged wider. “What happened to I got your back, boss and I always will?”

  Savage sighed and stood taller. “When you’re not acting like a narcissistic asshole, I do have your back. But when you act like a spoiled five-year-old, I have to ignore you.”

  “Ignore me?” Simon stepped in front of him again. “Motherfucker, you can’t ignore me. I run this gang!”

  Savage gave him a smile that chilled Simon’s blood. “Then act like a fucking man and not a spoiled brat.” He lowered his voice again, “You’ll get respect when you’ve earned it.”

  He stepped around Simon and walked away.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To sleep. I was up all night thinking about that ambush. I need some rest.”

  Simon watched him go, then glanced around to ensure nobody else had heard their exchange. He couldn’t have Savage, or anybody else for that matter, questioning his authority. Not in front of the other members.

  Simon walked back to his tent, muttering to himself. He couldn’t allow Savage to keep disrespecting him. He really didn’t want to kill the beast, but if a dog bites the hand that feeds it, you have to put it down. He paused outside the flap of his tent and stared in the direction of Savage’s RV.

  Perhaps it was time they had a catastrophic failure. A gas leak? A fire? Carbon monoxide poisoning? He was certain he’d think of something.

  Colonel Vickers scanned the report and smiled. “I told you they’d be alive. That Hatcher is a survivor.” He tried not to remember his escaping from the park when the mountain released the virus. He read through the rest of the daily report. “Dr. Carpenter is infected?” He lowered the paper and stared at the CDO.

  “Yes, sir.” He cleared his throat. “They’re trying an experimental treatment on him while it’s still early.”

  “Did they put him in with the other infected?”

  “Negative, sir. His reaction was…” he trailed off, searching for the right words.

  “Accelerated?”

  “No, sir. Quite the opposite.” The CDO tried to remember exactly what the researcher told him. “He had been infected by a subject that was undergoing the treatment. From what I understand, the subject was responding well, appeared even to have some returning cognizance, but Dr. Carpenter was infected. The virus is reacting much slower, but he does test positive for it in his blood.”

  Colonel Vickers leaned back in his chair and swiveled it slowly side to side. “And they’re going to use the same treatments on him as they did the test subject?”

  The CDO shrugged. “They weren’t specific in what treatment options they were going to use, only that they wanted to start now, even though Dr. LaRue is in the field.”

  Vickers nodded. “Keep me apprised of his condition.” He initialed the report and handed it back to him. “If there’s any change, I want to know.”

  The CDO nodded. “Of course, sir.” He paused and gave the colonel a curious look. “Is there a reason why you are so interested in this particular researcher, sir?”

  Vickers shook his head. “Nope. It’s just been a while since we had a fresh infection.” He lowered his pen and eyed the man. “I’m curious if this slower infection rate is because the virus was weakened by the treatment, or if the damned thing has mutated again and now it simply acts slower.”

  “Understood, sir.” The CDO snapped a salute and did an about-face.

  Vickers watched him leave, then reached for his coffee. If people could walk around infected for days before their symptoms manifested, his job could have gotten a whole lot tougher.

  Roger hid behind a double row of abandoned cars and pulled his binoculars. He focused on the RV’s, tents, and trailers set up around the public park. The grass had almost all turned brown from the lack of water and kids played listlessly on the playground. Apparently, even playing could lose its luster.

  He tried to locate Savage’s RV and finally spotted it along the furthest row. Parked nearly at the end, he watched as the big man pulled open the door and stepped inside.

  Roger dipped below the fender, out of eyesight from those meandering through the makeshift village and pulled his radio. “Got yer ears on?”

  There was a short kick of static before Candy’s voice came through the tiny speaker. “You know I do. I’ve been on pins and needles since you left.”

  “I think you can relax. I’m seeing zero activity over here. I hedged my bet on Mike and it looks like I read him right. There’s nothing going on that would suggest he sold us out.”

  He could almost feel the tension through the radio. “It’s kind of early to make that call, don’t ya think?”

  Roger smiled to himself and peered over the fender again. “I have to disagree. I know Simon. If he had the slightest inkling I were alive, he’d be putting together a posse post haste.”

  There was a pre
gnant silence he wasn’t sure how to read. When she came back across, her message was short and sweet. “Fine. Get back now. Out.”

  He heard another short burst of static and knew she had turned her radio off. He grunted to himself as he tucked the unit back into his pocket. “No time like the present.”

  Roger stood, but stayed bent below the cabin of the car. He heard a pump shotgun being cycled and froze.

  “Squirrel?” Roger turned slowly and faced one of the members, his shotgun slowly lowering as he recognized him. “I heard you was dead.”

  Roger shot him his award-winning smile. “I fear the rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.”

  The man cocked his head to the side and gave him a confused look. “Huh?”

  Roger stood erect and approached the sentry. “Sorry to have spooked you, bud.” He stepped closer and glanced in opposite directions to ensure they weren’t observed. “Simon sent me on a secret mission. That’s why I shaved my beard.” He gave the man a lopsided smile. “He’s convinced the guy in the military truck came from around here. He said if I cleaned up a bit and did some sniffing around, I might could flush out his group.”

  The man’s eyes widened, and he nodded, his feeble mind trying to keep up. “So, you’re not dead?”

  Roger fought the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Technically, no. But Simon wants everybody to think I am. It’s all part of his plan.”

  The sentry nodded. “I gotcha.” He looked over the cars to the camp. “But why are you here if you’re undercover?”

  “I got hungry. You know a hungry dog always goes home to eat.” He winked at the man and wrapped an arm over his shoulder, leading him away from the cars. “I don’t guess you have a sandwich on you, do you?”

  “No, I don’t carry food when I’m on du—”

  Roger twisted the man’s neck midsentence and slowly lowered him to the ground while his body convulsed. He tucked the shotgun under his arm and took the man by one arm, dragging him backward toward a building.

 

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