“Which one were you?”
Trevor blew his breath out hard and glanced at the small crowd that had gathered to gawk at the dozer. “I was ‘married’ to Donna. She didn’t want me and…”
“Ah.” Hatcher nodded. “Yeah, now I remember you.”
Trevor shrugged. “Things have changed.” He glanced at the RV then back to Hatcher. “I have my little girl to look after now.”
Hatcher’s eyes widened. “You found your daughter? In all of this?”
Trevor blew his breath out hard and looked to Hank for help. Hank shrugged and stepped between Hatcher and Trevor. “We should probably talk.”
Hatcher nodded, but straightened himself. “Okay. About what?”
Hank placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and turned him away from the RV. “About Patricia.”
“I take it that’s his daughter?”
Hank hemmed and hawed. “Yeah, you could say that.” He glanced back at Trevor then lowered his voice. “She’s infected.”
Hatcher gave him a wide-eyed look. “Like Brenda was? Is she immune?”
Hank shook his head slowly. “No, not like Brenda.” He inhaled deeply then leaned in closer. “Like…she’s a Zulu.” Hatcher stiffened and stared at him, the shock evident. Hank held his hands up in surrender. “It’s not what you think.”
“What I think is, you just told me that his daughter is infected.” He turned and stared at Trevor. “And you brought them here?”
Hank nodded. “She’s not like the others, Hatcher.” He motioned to Trevor and he pulled the door open on the RV. He waved Patricia closer and she stepped out and took his hand, her hoodie covering her face. “She has to stay out of direct sunlight.”
Hatcher slowly shook his head. “There is no way in hell that—”
“Meet her first, Hatch.” Hank pleaded firmly. “She’s not like you think.”
Hatcher turned and gave him a wide eyed stare. “We’re setting explosives around this place to keep her kind out and you want to move one in?”
“Meet her,” Hank said firmly.
Wally stepped between the two and looked down to meet Hatcher’s gaze. “Hey, Hatch…I thought the same thing. Until I took the time.” He took the man by the shoulders and slowly spun him around. “She don’t bite.”
“That will be a first,” Hatcher muttered.
Trevor stepped forward with Patricia in tow. He bent low and lifted her hoodie, allowing Hatcher to see her face for the first time. “This is Mr. Hatcher. Say hi to the nice man.”
Patricia stared at him for a moment then turned to Hatcher. Their eyes locked and Hatcher could almost see the gears turning in her head. He fought the urge to run back inside and lock the gates. Instead he bent low, dropping to one knee.
Trevor stepped closer, bringing Patricia to within feet of Hatcher’s face. Trevor caught his attention. “She won’t hurt you.”
“She really is just a kid.” Hatcher’s voice was low and he continued to stare at her red eyes. He held a hand out to her. “I’m Daniel. It’s nice to meet you.”
Patricia stared at his hand then looked back up to meet his gaze. “She’s a bit shy.” Trevor blew his breath out and shook his head. “Who am I kidding…she doesn’t respond much to speaking. It’s all visual with her.”
He stepped closer and took Daniel’s hand and shook it. He then looked to Patricia and she stretched her little hand out. Hatcher paused for only a moment then took her hand. He shook it slowly, his eyes watching hers the entire time.
“See? She’s not dangerous,” Trevor said softly. “And she’s learning.” He bent low and gave her a broad smile. “Aren’t you, Peanut?”
Patricia smiled back at him and Hatcher felt a lump form in his throat. He quickly stood and eyed the pair.
“What do you say, boss? Can we squeeze in a couple more?”
Hatcher turned and stared at Hank. “This is…I mean, yeah, this is pretty damned remarkable. But…” he shook his head. “We have families in here, Hank.”
“They’re a family.” Hank crossed his arms. “And she’s as docile as they come.”
“Even pets can turn on you.” He shook his head slowly. “Just because she’s little doesn’t mean she’s not dangerous.”
Trevor quickly stood. “Hey, it’s okay. I understand.” He nodded to Hank. “I gave it a shot man. We’re gonna hit the road.” Hatcher watched as he scooped the child up and tucked her back inside the RV. “Buckle the thing, baby girl. Just like daddy showed you.”
Trevor stepped back and shut the door quietly. “Nice meeting you folks again.” He tipped his cap then reached for the driver’s door.
“You’re not gonna let them leave, are you?” Hank whispered. “They’ll never make it on their own.”
Hatcher stared through the side window as Patricia fumbled with her seat belt. He swallowed hard and shook his head. “We have to consider the others…”
Trevor started the RV and gave Wally a soft smile. He mouthed the words, “thanks anyway,” then pulled the gear selector into drive.
“I feel like shi-poopy.” Carol groaned as she pulled the wool blanket up under her chin.
Broussard shook down the thermometer then held it in front of her mouth. “Open.”
She raised her tongue and closed her mouth on the glass cylinder. “Vis isn’t nevessary.”
“Quit talking. And yes, it is necessary.” Broussard stared at his watch while she lay back and stared at the ceiling. “Give.” He reached for the thermometer and held it up to the light.
“Let me guess…”
“You are feverish.” He stood and spread a second blanket over her. “I’ll be back with liquids and anti-inflamatories.”
“I’ll be fine.” She pulled the second blanket up tight to her chin. “If Kevin can survive this crap, so can I.”
Broussard sighed heavily then pulled out his bag. “I’m drawing blood. I want to know if you have our modified strep.”
“I’ll be fine…” she trailed off as she stared at the syringe. “I don’t need a shot.”
“I was going to draw blood.”
She shook her head. “I don’t like needles. Just do a swab test. If it’s strep, my throat will be sore soon.”
Broussard sighed and dug into his bag again. “Fine. Swab it is.” He held the long handled cotton-tipped swab in front of her mouth. “You’ll gag.”
“Won’t be the first time.” She opened her mouth and he swabbed the back of her throat.
“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”
She nodded and slowly closed her eyes. “I’m going to try to sleep off the worst of it.”
He patted her arm as he snapped the plastic cap over the end of the swab. “If you need anything, I’m right down the hall.”
She rolled to her side and he stood, leaving her alone in the darkened room.
Broussard made his way to the lab and quickly pulled on his lab coat. He dug through the supplies and found the rapid strep test kit.
He sat down at the stainless workbench and sighed heavily. He already knew what the results would be, but he opened the box anyway.
The door to the lab opened and the same Chief Petty Officer that narrated the SEAL’s retrieval of their equipment and supplies from the Kauffman appeared. “We’re setting up the monitors for the drop. Care to join us?”
Broussard nodded. “I’ll be along in just a moment.”
The Chief glanced around the lab. “Will your partner be joining us?”
Broussard opened his mouth to reply then slowly shook his head. “She’s a bit under the weather. I think it best if we simply allow her to rest.”
“Very well.” The Chief pointed down the hallway. “Second door on the left. We’re setting up in the back.”
“I’ll be along shortly.” Broussard pulled out the test strips and paused while the man left. He snapped the top off of the swab and brushed it lightly across the nitrocellulose test strip, ensuring to leave enough moisture to culture the sam
ple.
He set the test strip aside and rose to his feet. He did a quick double take and shook his head as the line had already began to form, indicating a positive result.
“Welcome to your new world order, Dr. Chaplain.”
Sinner grimaced as the bike shook under his grip. His shoulder felt like it was on fire and he was almost certain that he had ripped open his stitches. He was either sweating profusely under his shirt or he was bleeding again.
He slowed the bike and pulled to the side of the road. “I can’t.”
Shooter slipped off the saddle of his own bike and came to his side. “I’m telling ya man, we should have brought the shitbox car. This bike is…dammit.” He pulled his hand back, red with blood. “Dude, you’ve ripped open your sutures.”
“Too bad Stinky ain’t around to restitch me.” Sinner leaned back and sighed, using his good arm to adjust the bad shoulder.
“Listen…it’s light out so odds are the Ragers won’t be around. I’m going back to get the car. I won’t be five minutes. You just wait here.” He reached into his waistband and pulled out the pistol he had hidden. “This is for…well, just in case.”
“I know what a gun is for.” Sinner snatched it from his grip and fought to get off the bike. “I need to stash this out of the way. If Simon comes looking for us and sees it, he’ll burn it to just to spite us.”
Shooter glanced around then pointed to a ramshackle building. “There’s a wheelchair ramp on the side. I’ll ride it up and stow it.” He held a hand out and pushed Sinner back. “You stay here. Sit in the shade or something.” He gave him a serious look. “I’ll be careful, man. Not a scratch.”
Sinner nodded slowly and moved back to the stone steps of an old building. “I’ll just sit here.”
Shooter quickly fired up the big V-Twin engine and idled the bike across the street. He guided it up the ramp and stowed it inside the building. Sinner actually sighed with relief when the little shit stepped back out into the daylight. He trotted to his own bike and fired it up. “Five minutes, man. Just hold on.”
He revved the engine then pulled out onto the street. Sinner could hear the engine wind as his partner in crime darted through the empty city streets.
He blew his breath out hard and leaned back on the warm stone steps. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He was really second guessing his forking over the pain pills to render Simon unconscious.
Sinner clenched his jaw tight as the pain in his shoulder throbbed. “I guess I’m not as tough as I thought I was.” He pushed up from the stone steps and tried to remain upright.
He tugged at his leather jacket and cringed at the bullet hole in the shoulder of the garment. He shifted his weight on the steps and pulled the jacket around to wrap around his front. Although the steps were warm and the rising sun felt almost hot, he had chills.
“Fuck me…I hope this doesn’t mean what I think it means.”
He leaned to the side and rested his good shoulder on the side of the building. He closed his eyes and tried to think of anything but the throbbing pain in his shoulder.
A scraping sound caught his ear and he sat up, his eyes scanning the area. The entire town was nearly dead quiet; he hadn’t even seen a stray pet in weeks. Yet, something made that scraping sound.
His eyes darted around the area, looking for any signs of a breeze that might have caused something to move and make the sound, but the air was still. He swallowed hard and found his throat dry.
The scraping sound echoed off the side of the building again and Sinner felt his face pale. He hurriedly looked around for the pistol Shooter had slipped him. In his panic, he’d forgotten that he’d tucked it into the back of his waistband and he scrambled as much as his shoulder would allow him to searching for it.
The scraping sound grew louder and faster. Sinner’s eyes shot to his left and he saw the lone Rager standing in the shadows of the building across from him. Its leg was dragging behind and it appeared as though the creature had fractured it badly. It was just too stubborn to give up the ghost.
Their eyes locked and the Rager froze in the shadows. The thing had once been a man and it stood on its good leg, leaning against the building for support. It cocked its head to the side and stared at him.
Sinner slowly reached behind him, his hand wrapping around the grip of the pistol. He tugged it from the back of his jeans and brought it to his lap. “Don’t do it,” he muttered. “Just…don’t do it.”
The creature threw its head back and screamed. The sound echoed off of the surrounding buildings and Sinner brought the pistol up, firing as he stared down its length. One round ricocheted off of the corner and the second pierced the Rager’s shoulder just above the heart. The third missed wide and struck a support column of the building’s massive porch, sending bits of stone and debris into the air.
The Rager spun, its arm grabbing at the wound as it fell to the ground. The screaming didn’t stop, though. In fact, it increased in volume and pitch.
Sinner cringed at the high-pitched squeal and leveled the pistol on the writhing form on the ground. He fired again and watched the creature jerk as the bullet entered its soft midsection. Sinner continued to stare as the Rager quivered and shook, pink foam bubbling across its mouth. He assumed he’d pierced a lung with that last shot. He slowly pushed up from the steps and leaned against the corner of the building.
The pistol hung limply at his side and he stumbled more than stepped down the stone stairs. He made his way to the corner of the building and peered across the street as the Rager made its final death throes.
Sinner exhaled hard and slumped against the wall. “Saved by the bell.” He glanced at the pistol in his hand. “Or, by the bullet. Either way, I’ll take it.”
He pushed off the wall and was about to turn back to the steps when he heard the slap of bare feet on hard ground. He felt his blood turn cold again as the sounds increased in speed and volume.
“Fuck me…” he whispered to himself. He raised the pistol once more and aimed for the street in front of where the Rager had died. “Come and get it you bastards.”
Chapter 12
Wally stepped beside Hatcher. “Don’t let ‘em go, Hatch. You’ll never forgive yourself.”
Hatcher turned to him, his eyes wide. “And if she infects somebody inside?” He pointed behind him. “That wall is to keep her kind out.”
“She’s a one of a kind, Hatch. She ain’t like the others.”
Hank had stepped in front of the RV, stopping Trevor from pulling away. He held his hand up and walked to the driver’s door. He motioned for him to roll the window down. “Don’t go just yet. Let us talk to him.”
Trevor shook his head. “Hey, it’s no big deal. We were planning on hitting the road anyway.” He gave Hank a soft smile. “I appreciate you extending the offer though.”
“Just hold on.” He looked up at Hatcher and Wally quietly talking. “Hatch, what if we let the people decide?”
Hatcher turned and gave him a confused look. “What do you mean, let them decide?”
Hank shrugged. “Let them meet her. Then let them vote. If they want them to go, they can. No big deal, right?” He glanced at Trevor who gently shook his head.
“Don’t put your people on the spot like that, man. It’s not worth causing a split.” He hooked his thumb back toward Patricia. “We’ll be okay. Really.”
Hank turned back to Hatcher and waved him over. “Tell Hatcher what she did.”
Trevor raised a brow. “When? In the bathroom?”
“No…when the Zulus cornered you.”
Hatcher crossed his arms and raised a brow at Trevor. “What did she do?”
Trevor swallowed hard and met his gaze. “She stood up to them.” He put the RV back into park and shut off the engine. “There was this big, tall Rager shaking a piece of pipe at me and screaming to beat hell. I had covered her face so she might not see them eat me and…” He glanced at Hank then back to Hatcher. “She jum
ps out and screams at them. She’s shaking her fist at them and she called me ‘daddy.’ It’s the only thing she’s tried to say.”
Hatcher gave Hank a surprised look and Hank nodded. “She was having problems…earlier. I heard her call him daddy.”
“No shit?”
Hank snorted. “Oh, there was a lot of that too, but…yeah. She said it.”
Hatcher sighed heavily and shook his head slowly. “You know this goes against everything. Everything we’ve built here is to keep us safe from them.”
Trevor held his hand up, stopping Hatcher. “Look, it’s no big deal, really. We raided a grocery store and we’re stocked up. I got nearly a full tank of gas and we don’t mind being on our own.”
“Wally said you needed me?” Vicky appeared at Hatcher’s side and he gave her a confused look.
“I did?”
Wally nodded toward the RV. “Let her check the girl out, Hatch. If they can’t stay, then at least let a trained medical professional give her the once over.” He glanced at Trevor. “Better to know if there’s something else wrong, right?”
Trevor sighed and gave him a polite smile. “I doubt she knows anything about Patricia’s kind.”
“Her kind?” Vicky gave them all a confused look.
“She’s infected,” Hatcher stated flatly. “Hank and Wally want us to let them move in.”
Vicky’s eyes couldn’t have been any wider. “Infected…like infected infected?”
Hatcher nodded. “Not like Brenda, but actually red eyed, grey skinned and…yeah. Infected.”
Vicky strained to see past Trevor. “Is she restrained?”
“No need.” Trevor turned and nodded to Patricia. “Come here, Peanut.” He waved at her and she quickly unbuckled her seatbelt.
Vicky gave an audible gasp when she saw the frail little girl appear by his side. “And she doesn’t display any hostility toward you?”
Trevor shook his head. “We look out for each other.” He pulled Patricia close and gave her a soft squeeze. “She’s my little girl.”
Caldera Book 7: The End Is Here Page 10