The fellow quit scraping the can with his finger and stared at Simon menacingly. “Others?”
“Like us.” Simon held his hand out. “You know. Dumb, pale, don’t like the sun.” He leaned closer. “Starving.”
“Quee.”
“Quee?” Simon wasn’t sure he heard correctly.
The fellow nodded. “Quee.” He continued to scrape the can.
Simon scratched at his head. “Exactly how many is ‘quee’? More than a handful?” He looked expectantly to the tall guy. “A LOT?” he asked, excitement at the probability rising.
The fellow tossed the can to the side with a clang. “WE are Quee.” He slapped at his chest.
Simon stared open mouthed for a moment. “We…are…”
“Quee!” The man slapped at his chest.
“We are…Quee.” Simon had his epiphany. “Oh, I get you. Our kind are called the Quee.” He snorted. “Sounds like an Indian tribe.” He chuckled to himself. “The Cherokee, the Sioux, the Chickasaws, the Quee…”
The tall man jumped to his feet and glared at Simon. “No laugh. We are Quee.” He slapped at his chest again and Simon recalled seeing similar actions by a gorilla in a movie or…something. He nodded slowly.
“No offense, big guy.” He came to his feet and nodded slowly. “We are Quee.” He returned the man’s stare until his features softened. “So, are there other Quee out there? People we could…help?”
“Help?”
Simon shrugged. “Surely they’re hungry, too.” He eyed the man cautiously. “We could…invite them over to eat with us. Get to know them. Maybe…invite them to stay a while.”
He watched the large man’s eyes narrow and it slowly turned into a glare. “Why?”
Simon finally threw caution to the wind. “Because those people who made your other hunters go ‘BOOM’? I want them. I want to kill them. I want to rip their hearts out and eat them.”
The large man continued to stare at him then slowly nodded. “Others out there.” He pointed toward the front of the store.
Simon smiled. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go meet the neighbors.” He slapped the large man on the back. “Hustle up, short stack. We’re burning moonlight.”
Chapter 10
Hatcher stared into the inky blackness. He glanced at his watch then turned back to the gates. “They should have been back by now.”
Roger nodded slowly, not allowing his worry to show. “I’m sure they’re fine. Maybe they hit a motherlode.” He glanced at Hatcher and shrugged. “Or they’re pinned down and have to wait it out.”
Hatcher slowly shook his head. “They would have radioed for backup.”
Roger paled and lowered his voice. “Are we sure that Simon is dead?”
Hatcher inhaled deeply and sighed. “I trust Buck. He wouldn’t lie. He said that Simon was bit and dying. I believe him.”
Roger rubbed at his chin. “What if he survived?”
Hatcher grunted. “Then he’d be a Zulu. Incapable of rational thought.”
Roger raised a brow at him. “You keep forgetting Patricia.”
“I haven’t forgotten her. But for every one of her there are thousands of them.” He nodded toward the darkness. “Do you really think the odds are in his favor?”
Roger sighed heavily and frowned. “I hate to say it, Hatch, but people like Simon can fall into a bucket of shit and come out smelling like a rose. If anybody has the luck of a cockroach, it’s him.”
Hatcher opened his mouth to say something when the sentry announced on the radio: “Headlights approaching!”
“That had better be them.” Hatcher stepped toward the main gates and stared down the road with binoculars. “It’s the truck. Open the outer gates.”
“Shouldn’t we be certain it’s our guys and not somebody else?” Roger asked.
Hatcher gave him a look that he couldn’t read. “It’s either our boys or somebody who can drive that knows we’re here. Either way, I doubt seriously it’s a truck load of Zulus.”
The pair stood aside as Wally pulled the pickup into the main gates and parked outside the adobe wall. The sentries shut the chain link outer gates as Hank and Wally hopped out of the truck. “I think we did good, Hatch.” Wally dropped the tailgate; the bed was filled with boxes.
“What’s this?” Roger asked as he stepped closer.
Hank hopped up onto the tailgate and smiled. “The first couple of places we hit were stripped. We were about to give up when Wally sees the CVS sign.”
Wally nodded. “They’d been pretty much cleaned out too.” He grinned at Hank. “Except for the back. There was still a delivery truck parked behind the place and there were all these boxes of supplies just stacked in the rear.”
“We grabbed it all.” Hank slapped the side of a box. “Everything from bandages to prescription meds. We weren’t sure what all Vic might need in the future so we snagged all of it.”
Hatcher felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he whistled to a couple of the yard laborers. “Grab dollies and get this stuff to Vicky.”
“I think you boys earned a few brownie points tonight.” Roger clapped Wally on the back. “But why didn’t you let us know that you were okay? You know how he worries once the sun is down.”
Hank held his radio up. “I think the battery is shit on this unit. It said fully charged when I pulled it from the charging stand but it died just a half hour later.”
Hatcher took the radio and inspected it. “I’ll see if Will can replace the battery pack in it.” He looked back up at Hank. “You should have returned and got another radio.”
“Yeah, but we were on the other side of town.” He glanced to Wally. “Besides, if we’d come back, odds are we wouldn’t have seen the CVS.”
Hatcher sighed heavily and motioned the men inside. “Go and eat. I had the lunch ladies save your supper.”
Roger tried to read the labels on the boxes as they were stacked onto dollies. “Lots of common stuff here. I hope Vic gets what she needs.”
“If not, we’ll know soon enough.” Hatcher fell into step behind the dollies. “Do me a favor and spread the word with the sentries that we had a radio die and it could be the batteries. Have them do a radio check every half hour just to make sure we keep our communications open.”
“I’ll take care of it.” Roger stepped away. “Do you really think they’ll try again so soon?”
Hatcher held the door open to the nurse’s station. “I have no idea. But when something is starving, they get desperate. I’d rather be prepared for when it does happen.”
“Copy that.”
Carol peered through the window of the concrete and brick building, her flashlight illuminating the interior. “And this room looks empty too.”
“I don’t like this,” Broussard whispered. “This is a large campus that undoubtedly had a lot of people. If they were turned and stayed here…”
“I know. They could be anywhere.” She flicked off the flashlight and bent closer, lowering her voice. “But what other options do we have? Sleep in the car?”
Broussard stared at the little car and sighed heavily. “We have no good choice here.”
“I may be wrong, but I think we would be safer barricading ourselves into one of the labs inside. If that’s not feasible, then we make use of one of the classrooms on a higher floor. We just have to find someplace where they can’t get to us if they do show.”
Broussard reached over her and tried to open the window. “Locked.” He slid back down next to her. “I really don’t like the idea of going through a doorway.”
“Especially one that is standing open.” Carol rubbed at her jaw as she thought. “I suppose we could break a window and climb through.”
Broussard shivered at the thought. “The noise would attract anything close. We’d have no way of hiding our entry or securing it.”
She stared into the inky night sky and wished there was an easy answer. “We just have to decide. Either risk sneaking throu
gh a main entry or breaking in through a window.” She studied his face in the pale moonlight. “If we break the window and hurry, we could lock the classroom door behind us and rush upstairs as quickly as we can. Seal ourselves in a room where we can effectively stop an attack.”
“And if we can’t find such a room?”
She shook her head slowly. “Have faith, Andre.”
“What then, Dr. Chaplain? We have no power. We can’t be certain that the laboratories are intact.”
“We check the labs at first light. If we find what we need, we can go into town and scavenge a generator. Put it on the roof and run an extension cord down the wall and through a window.” She smiled at him. “We can do this.”
He nodded slowly and began to pull his jacket off. “Stand clear.” He wrapped the jacket around his arm and stepped to the side. With a wide swing he beat his arm against the window.
Both were surprised when it bounced off, the glass intact.
Carol stepped closer and ran her finger along the outside of the pane. “It just looks like glass.” She turned to him. “Could it be hardened?”
He gave her a shrug and bent low, looking for a stone. Along the edge of the sidewalk was a small paver with a design molded into it. He pried it from the ground and motioned her to step aside. “Be prepared to hurry,” he whispered.
He checked both directions then hurled the stone at the window pane. The noise felt deafening, but the glass remained intact. “This is insane.” He grabbed her by the sleeve and rushed toward the front entrance. “We do this the hard way.”
As she reached for the door handle, a scream echoed between the buildings and both researchers felt their blood run cold.
Simon cradled the boomstick in the crook of his arm while his hunters spread out, searching for other Quee. He tried to imagine how the meet and greet might go, but somehow he knew that in order for him to take over their forces, he’d have to beat or kill their alpha in some form of combat.
He felt pretty confident that the boomstick would do the job. Unless, of course, their Alpha also knew how to use firearms. Then it was anybody’s guess.
His head popped up at the sound of bare feet slapping along the empty street. He saw one of his men approaching and as the figure came into view, it wasn’t the tall one. He would either have to give these assholes names or find out what they called each other. He couldn’t just keep pointing at them and saying, “You.”
“Quee. Come.” The man waved at him.
Simon held a hand up to stop him. “Where are our other hunters? We should go together.”
The hunter stared at him for a moment then pointed. “We go. There.”
With a sigh, Simon fell into step behind him, his heavy motorcycle boots thumping along with the slap of the hunter’s bare feet. When the hunter slowed, Simon angled closer to the nearest building. They crouched behind a dying bush and the hunter pointed to an open fire in an intersection of the road. Cars were parked on three of the four sides and reflected the warmth of the fire back to the Quee surrounding it.
Simon patted the hunter’s shoulder and slipped closer. He could hear the grunts and chortles of those around the fire and knew that there was a heated debate.
“Many gone!” a lone man shouted. “No more.”
The figure standing closest to the fire held his hand out toward the other man. “Then no eat!”
A murmur of voices rose and Simon heard more than one woman whimper.
“Eat the weakest,” the lone man stated, his face a stone mask.
The man near the fire seemed to grow in stature. His shoulders squared and he shook his head. “No eat own!” He thrust his fist at the other man. “Never.”
Simon thought that perhaps this would be his most opportune time. He stepped from behind the bush and approached the fire. “I have a solution!”
All eyes turned to him and more than one of the males took on a defensive posture. The man closest to the fire squinted in the low light and turned toward the man approaching. “Go! Now!” He growled. “No food here.”
“I’m sure there’s not.” Simon stopped just outside the ring of people. “But I have plenty of food.”
The leader glared at him, searching him for this “food” that he spoke of. “No food.”
Simon smiled to himself. “I have food.” He stepped closer. “Not here.”
The leader wasn’t so trusting. “Go! Now!”
Simon stepped closer and slowly brought the barrel of the boomstick to rest in the leader’s direction. “I have enough food for all of you.” He smiled again. “But only if you’ll follow me.”
The leader stepped closer. “To food?”
Simon shook his head. “No.” He shifted his weight slightly, preparing to absorb the recoil of the shotgun. “You and your people join my group. I feed you. You do what I tell you to do.”
The leader slapped at his chest and yelled into the night. “No! You go!”
Simon nodded slowly. “You would let your people starve?” He caught the looks of the others and shook his head. “That doesn’t sound like much of a leader to me.”
“Go!” The man stepped toward Simon, his fists raised in the air and Simon let him close the distance. When the man was less than ten feet away and increasing his attack speed, Simon pulled the trigger.
The man’s momentum sent him sprawling at his feet, black blood oozing from his midsection.
Simon stared down at the man and kicked at the side of his head with his boot. He slowly looked up at the assemblage and asked, “Who’s your leader now?”
One woman slowly came to her feet. She stared at the body lying on the ground then murmured something. The crowd seemed to erupt as they pounced toward Simon.
To his credit, Simon didn’t move. He knew what was about to happen. They fell on the dead and began rending body parts from the still-warm corpse. He took a tentative step back and watched as the starving Quee made a short meal of their recently departed leader.
The man who had argued to eat the weak approached him, an organ in his hand. Simon already knew what it was and actually looked forward to eating the meaty muscle.
The man bent low and offered the heart to him. Simon took it and tore a chunk from the end, barely chewing before swallowing the coppery mass. He ripped another chunk from the heart then handed it back to the man. “Go ahead. You need this more than I do.”
He stepped back and listened as they began to chew their way through the bones, the sucking of marrow sounding a lot like crickets on a hot summer night.
“When you’re through, gather what you will and follow me.” He shot them a brilliant, bloody smile. “I know where there’s a lot more food.” He picked at his teeth with his pinky nail. “If you’re willing to do what I tell ya.”
Chapter 11
“We’re still short.” Vic fell into the chair, an air of exhaustion surrounding her. “I handed out the meds the boys got in order of severity. We need more.”
Hatcher rubbed at his eyes and gave her a slow shrug. “So we go back out tomorrow and see what can be found?”
Vicky cleared her throat gently and gave him a worried look. “I’ve got it too.”
Hatcher nodded quickly. “Then we’ll be sure and double check every place.”
“Danny, I’m not sure that this is actually strep.” She glanced toward the open door and he picked up on it. He reached out and gently pushed it closed.
“Why do you say that?”
“Strep has this…smell to it. And it smells like strep. But usually when I feel that first little tickle in my throat, I can hit it with a peroxide gargle and then follow up with warm salt water and nine times out of ten, I can kill it out before it takes root.” She shook her head at him. “This time it hit like a ton of bricks. Nothing worked.”
Hatcher sat down and sighed. “Sis, you’re a nurse. You know as well as anybody that when you get this many people bunched up together, disease spreads. And quickly, too.”
“I do realize that. I’m just saying that this isn’t acting like your normal strep throat.”
Hatcher nodded. “And I suppose it’s too early to tell if the meds will help?”
“Oh, of course. I just got them handed out a little earlier. It will take a couple of days at least. I started with the Z-packs, then moved to the broader stuff like Keflex and then the ‘cillins for folks who aren’t allergic.” She blew her breath out hard in an exasperated sigh. “I’m still short doses for a couple dozen people.”
“Not to mention back up emergency supplies.” Hatcher leaned forward and planted his chin in his hands. “All I can tell you is that we’ll send more people out at first light.”
“I appreciate it, but I’m also scared what we’ll do if they can’t find anything.”
Hatcher shrugged. “Then we hit the library and find an alternative health handbook or something. Maybe there’s a root or herb or a flowering plant that can do something similar.”
She gave him a sarcastic sneer. “That’s not funny.”
“I’m not joking.” Where do you think they found most of the drugs that we have now? Plants.” He sat back and gave her a shrug. “I remember you were the one who told me that aspirin came from tree bark.”
“That’s different. Modern drugs might have originally come from some biological compounds, but they’re isolated, refined, concentrated…”
“I don’t know what else to tell ya, sis. I’ll let the guys know that this is urgent and send them out the door.” He stood and poured a cup of coffee. “We’ll make due somehow. It’s not like a little strep throat will kill them.”
“Ever heard of scarlet fever?”
“Yes, but people survived.” He sat down and eyed her carefully. “What’s really got you worried?”
She averted her eyes and gave a slight shake of her head. “I don’t know. Call it a feeling.”
“I’m not saying I don’t trust your gut instincts, but something like this shouldn’t get your worried.”
Caldera 8: Simon Sez Page 8