Caldera Book 7: The End Is Here

by Stallcup, Heath

  Vicky stood back and gave Hatcher a confused look. “I’ve never…I mean…”

  “I know, right?” Hatcher gave her a sideways grin. “Just grab your doctoring bag and give her the once over if you don’t mind.”

  Vicky nodded and looked to Trevor. “You’ll stay close by, right? Just in case?”

  Trevor nodded. “It won’t be necessary, but yeah. And I appreciate you doing this.”

  Vicky disappeared and Hatcher leaned against the RV. He looked to Hank and shook his head. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking that they need help.” He glanced back at the slowly growing crowd of people who were working their way around for a better view. “That’s why we started this thing, isn’t it?”

  “To keep the infected out. To keep Simon and his kind out. To keep our people safe.”

  Hank shrugged. “I don’t know what I was thinking, Hatch. These people are alone, in need of help and—”

  “No, we’re not.” Trevor shook his head. “I told you man, we’ll get by just fine on our own.”

  Hank leaned toward the window. “It’s you and a little girl in a dying world.” He shook his head. “You decided to give this a try for her, remember?”

  Trevor nodded slowly. “Of course I remember. But your boss is right.” He gave him a sad look. “Your people can’t be sure of her. If it’s just the two of us, I’m willing to put myself on the line to keep her safe.”

  Wally shook his head. “I’m telling ya, she’s not a threat.”

  Hatcher sighed and looked through the front gate at the kids chasing each other through the courtyard. “Maybe not, but we just can’t take that risk.” He gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry, Wally.”

  Broussard settled in behind the table with the monitors. The Chief pointed to the top monitor. “They’ve just begun to spray the cure.” He tapped the side monitor. “This is the feed from our people on the ground…well, what’s left of them.”

  “There’s nothing but corpses littered everywhere,” Broussard stated the obvious.

  “The Zeds stay out of direct sunlight these days. From what I’m hearing, it hurts them.”

  Broussard nodded slightly and continued to study the screens. “Do they know where any populations of them are?”

  The Chief pulled out a map of the area. “They’re spotted quite regularly coming from these two buildings.”

  “So they’ll concentrate the spraying in those areas for now?”

  “Roger that. Saturate the area and hope that some of it works its way through the broken windows.”

  Broussard leaned back and continued to stare at the screens. “There,” he pointed, “…is that one?”

  The Chief leaned across the table and nodded. “Certainly fits the description.” He smiled. “And it looks as though he’s been sprayed. Look at him wiping at his arms.”

  Broussard sighed and nodded slowly. “If he goes back to the rest of them, it should spread rapidly.”

  The Chief stepped back and gave him a curious look. “I wonder how they plan to address the situation once your cure is spread?”

  “Situation?”

  The Chief crossed his arms and nodded toward the monitors. “There’s only small pockets of survivors left. We have no idea how many infected there are.” He shrugged. “Our infrastructure is pretty much nonexistent and there will be tons of people in need of food, shelter, medical attention…” his voice trailed off.

  Broussard stiffened. “I’m sorry, sir, but our mission was to find a viable treatment. Not deal with the aftermath.”

  The Chief gave him a tight lipped smile. “I’m not suggesting that it is your problem.” He sighed and sat down on the corner of the desk. “I was really just thinking aloud.” He nodded toward the screen. “We’re going to have our hands full afterward, that’s all.”

  Broussard nodded. He shook his head at the images. “Right now, it’s all I can do to keep my hopes up that we are.”

  Shooter braked hard around the corner in the housing development then killed the engine to his bike, letting it coast along the narrow street leading to the cul-de-sac. He leaned the bike into the next house’s driveway and parked it in the empty garage.

  He quickly pulled the door down then slinked across the street to the waiting hybrid. He slipped in behind the wheel and pushed the start button, letting the car pull away slowly on electric power. He knew that Simon was doped and sleeping off the pills he had been spiked with, but he didn’t want to risk making any extra noise that might wake him or alert him to their leaving.

  He cursed to himself as he pushed the little car faster than we wanted, praying the gas engine didn’t kick in until he was far enough away. He already had a story concocted if Simon caught him. They were leaving in search of a pharmacy to raid. He just didn’t want to get put on the spot and have to lie his way out of trouble.

  When Shooter saw the entry gates come into view, he mashed the pedal to the floor and listened to the anemic four-cylinder come to life. He took the corner entirely too fast and grimaced as the skinny tires squealed on the warming pavement.

  He aimed the car in the direction he’d come from and mashed the pedal to the floor again. “I’m coming buddy. Don’t bleed out on me…”

  Sinner extended his arm, the pistol shaking in his grip. He watched as emaciated Ragers poured from the shadows of nearly every building. Their gaunt appearance was even more alarming than the feral look in their eyes.

  “Son of a bitch…” he trailed off, his words catching in his throat.

  He watched as the bodies parted and a singular form appeared. The creature held a piece of pipe in its right hand, using it much like a walking stick as it stalked through the shadows. It stopped near the body of the fallen Rager and stared at the slowly cooling corpse for a moment.

  Sinner felt a peculiar sickening feeling begin to take root in his guts. He pushed himself further up the wall and brought the pistol back to arm’s length. “Don’t think it. Don’t do it…just…don’t.”

  The creature with the pipe looked up at him and cocked his head to the side. Its eyes bored through Sinner and he could feel the icy hand of death slowly grip his chest.

  “Come on, man. I don’t have enough fucking bullets for this.” He brought the pistol up higher, eyeing down its length. He planted the front site squarely on the creature’s chest and increased the pressure on the trigger. “Don’t make me kill you.”

  The Rager slowly raised the piece of pipe until it was hovering over his head. Sinner noted that the other monsters had gathered tightly around; the look in their eyes told him that they were only waiting on this one to give the “go ahead.”

  Without thinking, Sinner squeezed the trigger. The shot went wide, dropping one of the Ragers to the side of the leader. Before the shot finished echoing off the surrounding buildings, the creature screamed, shaking the pipe as its screech rose in both volume and pitch.

  Sinner felt time slow as the monsters broke loose, charging from the shadows and into the sunlight. He slid back along the wall, desperately trying to reach the stairs. If he could get inside the building, perhaps he could barricade himself away from their charging mass.

  He turned and tried to run for the steps. He had the distinct feeling of running in molasses. His movements felt labored and slow even though adrenaline pulsed through his body, pressing him on to escape.

  He reached the bottom step and fired blindly into the rushing crowd, not waiting to see if any of the shots connected. He pushed himself up the steps. He was nearly to the top when he felt the first set of hands grip his legs.

  Sinner screamed and fell to the landing, rolling to his bad shoulder and firing blindly into the wave of infected bodies streaming up the stairs behind him. He distinctly saw one of the creatures’ heads explode as the 9MM round pierced the frontal bone.

  He scrambled madly backward, firing into the wall of red eyed creatures, their teeth gnashing and hands reaching for him. With each Ra
ger killed, two more appeared in the mass of bodies.

  He felt the door of the building press against his back just as another set of hands gripped his legs and pulled him, screaming, into their clutches.

  Sinner choked on a final scream as he pressed the barrel of the pistol to his temple and pulled the trigger. He turned and stared at the pistol, the slide locked back, as the wave of monsters began to tear at his flesh.

  Chapter 13

  “Other than the obvious, she seems relatively healthy; underfed, I suppose, as we might expect.” Vicky pulled the stethoscope from her ears and pushed them back into her bag. “Her heart rate is elevated and her breathing is as well, but I think that has more to do with her…condition.”

  Trevor gave her a smile and pointed to the rear seat. “Go click in, Peanut. We’re gonna go.”

  Hatcher and Vicky watched as the little girl made her way back to the rear seat and struggled with the seat belt.

  “She listens well,” Hatcher added.

  Trevor shook his head. “Not really. She’s a visual learner–but she does learn quickly.” He came to his feet and stuck his hand out to Vicky. “Thank you for checking on her.”

  “Don’t worry about her temperature. I really think it has to do with a higher metabolism which causes an increase in everything else.”

  “Yeah, she’s run pretty hot since we found each other.” His mind flashed to them sharing the bed at the motel; her heat had caused him to sweat profusely. “I’ll definitely keep an eye on her fluid intake. Maybe find some electrolytes if she becomes sluggish.”

  Vicky cocked her head to the side. “Were you a medic or something?”

  Trevor shook his head. “I was about to be an EMT but…life had other ideas.” He slipped back into the driver’s seat. “Thanks again.”

  Vicky turned to Hatcher and lowered her voice. “We could use another trained medical technician.”

  Hatcher gave her a wide eyed stare. “Did you miss the part where the girl is infected?”

  “She’s docile as a house cat.”

  Hatcher nodded. “But if a house cat scratches you, even accidentally, it isn’t usually fatal.” He shook his head again. “There’s too much at stake here, Vic.”

  She sighed heavily and lowered her eyes, nodding. “I know. I just hate to send them out there alone.”

  Beating on the side of the RV had all heads turning. Hank opened the door and stepped into the camper. “I have an idea. Call it a hail Mary, but…” He glanced at Trevor. “What if they parked this thing in the greenfield behind the compound? That way if there’s any trouble, we can pull them inside the walls and provide protection.”

  Hatcher gave him a confused look. “I’m not following…”

  “They park outside the wall. That way Patricia can’t infect anybody, but we can share our resources. We can provide protection.” He smiled at the little girl. “Maybe they come in and mingle for new company once in a while.”

  Hatcher opened his mouth to rebut but Vicky stepped forward and interrupted his thoughts. “We could definitely use another med tech. Even if it’s for the smaller stuff.” The pair turned to Trevor. “What do you say?”

  He glanced at Hatcher who still had his mouth open. “I’m game if Mr. Hatcher agrees.”

  Hatcher stared at Hank and his sister then turned to Trevor. “I…really don’t have an objection.” He watched as a slow smile began to form on Trevor’s face. “But we have to respect the other people who live here. If they get uncomfortable with Patricia mingling about, she’ll have to go back to the camper.”

  Trevor slowly came to his feet. “I wouldn’t want anybody living in fear because of us.” He held his hand out to Hatcher. “If worse comes to worst, we can pack up and move on.”

  Hatcher took his hand and gave it a solid pump. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

  Broussard stared at the screen and watched as the drone made lazy circles in the sky. The aircraft had finished spraying the area and he assumed it was making its way back to reload.

  The Chief Petty Officer yawned and stretched, shifting in his seat. “Is all of science this slow and boring?”

  Broussard nodded. “Only the best of adrenaline junkies can handle our jobs.” He cracked a grin at his joke.

  “I can tell.” The chief’s eyes seemed vacant as he stared alongside the researcher. “Tell me again what we’re looking for?”

  Broussard shook his head. “Anything out of the ordinary.”

  “Will this cure be pretty quick?”

  Broussard shrugged. “It is designed to be fast acting but it could be days to weeks before the infected see results.”

  “Days to weeks?” The chief sat up and stared at him. “Why are we watching then?”

  Brossard slowly shook his head, his eyes glued to the monitors. “I just want to see something other than the steel walls of this ship.”

  The chief nodded knowingly and came to his feet. He gently clapped the man’s shoulder. “You watch all you want, Doc. I have things I should be doing.”

  Broussard turned and gave him a sad smile. “I’m sorry if I gave you a false sense of hope.”

  The chief shrugged. “No sweat off my sack, Doc.” He stretched his neck and gave the man a crooked smile. “I guess I was hoping that cured people would just start walking out of buildings looking scared and confused.”

  Broussard nodded. “Hopefully one day.”

  The chief excused himself and closed the door behind him. Broussard turned his attention back to the monitors and didn’t turn around when the door opened again behind him.

  “You couldn’t have woke me up for the party?” Carol slipped into the chair beside him, the wool blanket pulled snugly around her shoulders.

  “You should be in bed.”

  “And you should have told me that they started the operation.” She sniffled and turned to the screens on the table. “What are we seeing here?”

  “This is…” He paused and gave her a wide eyed stare. “I’m not even sure what city this is.”

  She chuckled lightly and swayed to the side to bump him. “Just tell me what we’re looking at.”

  “They believe that a large population of infected live in these areas. They were saturated and we observed at least one subject get sprayed. I sincerely hope he’s taking it back to the population.”

  “Where are the good guys?”

  Broussard tapped the other monitor. “Behind those barricades and chain link fences. I think it used to be a military base.” He sighed and gave her a sidelong glance. “Not many survived.”

  She nodded solemnly. “Anything of note?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I keep hoping to see…something.”

  She leaned over and rested her head on his arm. “Eventually.”

  He nodded slowly. “That’s what I told the chief.” He sighed again and leaned toward her, adding support. “Hopefully soon.”

  Shooter slowed the car and tapped the brakes. He watched as figures darted across the street and disappear into the shadows.

  He felt a cold chill run up his spine and slammed on the brakes. The little car slid to a stop and he stared open-mouthed at the stairs where he had left Sinner. He pulled the car slightly forward and craned his neck to stare up the stone steps; he felt his chest tighten when he saw the blood smeared across the landing.

  “No…no, no, no…” He opened the door to the car and practically ran to the top of the stairs. He paused and felt his stomach lurch on him.

  There was the pistol he had left Sinner and a single leather biker boot. Both were drenched in blood. “No…” he moaned.

  Shooter turned and glared out across the street and into the shadows. “YOU SONS OF BITCHES!” he screamed as loud as he could, his voice cracking.

  He felt hot tears running down his cheeks and it took him a moment to realize he was crying. His entire body shook as he stumbled down the stairs, his mind not willing to accept what his eyes had shown it.

  He wa
ndered back to the driver’s seat and shut the door behind him. He rested his trembling hands on the steering wheel and fought the urge to lose it. He felt the anger rising inside him; he beat on the steering wheel, screaming. He needed to vent his anger, but there were no Ragers standing around willing to be his punching bag.

  He threw open the door to the car and screamed hoarsely into the shadows again. “I’m gonna kill all you bastards, so help me…” his voice trailed off as he broke down.

  Shooter sat on the sill of the car door and sobbed. He lifted his head and stared up at the sky. “Why Sinner?” He wiped the snot and tears from his face onto the back of his shirt sleeve and slowly pushed himself up. He fell back into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.

  He stared through the dirty windshield and pondered what to do next. Should he just hit the road, find some place in the middle of nowhere that he might eke out an existence? Or should he stick to his original plan and approach the Cagers alone? It seemed a lost cause now. His only friend and confidant was gone.

  Shooter hated to admit it, but it was Sinner’s strength that gave him the courage to face the world. It was Sinner’s confidence that gave him the guts to leave Simon.

  He sniffed back unshed tears and pulled the car into gear once more. “Strength in numbers.”

  Simon jerked awake and snorted as he spun in the recliner. “What? Who’s that?” He sat up and blinked rapidly.

  He reached down slowly and flipped the lever up on the recliner, dropping the foot rest. He slid to the edge of the chair and shook his head. “What the hell?” He stood up slowly and felt his head swim. “Them pain pills really kicked my ass.”

  He turned and reached for the bottle of rum. He unscrewed the cap and grimaced as he brought the bottle to his lips. He took a long pull then held the bottle at arm’s length. “That tastes worse than…” He narrowed his gaze and stared at the bottle.

  Stumbling to the kitchen he held the bottle to the window and clenched his teeth as he stared at the residue floating along the bottom of the bottle. “Little shit stain…” He dropped the bottle and grabbed for the edge of the table.