The torrential rain that had come from nowhere during the late night-early morning hours had left the ground wet, and he’d spent over an hour working to free the car after nearly getting stuck in the mud during one of his attempts to simply drive the little car off the freeway and around one of the groupings of wrecked vehicles that blocked the way ahead. When he’d finally freed the car, he’d decided to play it safe and backtrack when faced with blockades.
But all the backtracking slowed his progress, and in an attempt to make up lost time, he’d increased his speed, which required the car’s gas engine to expend more energy, burning fuel it normally wouldn’t.
By his estimates, he’d be able to travel about a hundred miles before being too low on fuel to risk going further, which would put him just outside San Jose - exactly where he didn’t want to stop to refuel.
Once he got close to San Francisco, he’d want time to scope out the area chosen for the exchange of the girl to ensure he’d have - and know - an escape route should the authorities try to trap him. With this in mind, he’d made it a requirement that the car have at least three-quarters of a tank when he got to San Jose.
Which meant it’d be about forty-five minutes before he’d stop to gas up.
The girl persisted. “Please, sir…”
He heard a loud, gurgling sound come from the backseat, presumably from her stomach.
“Don’t you fuckin’ shit back there!” He yelled, glaring at the girl through the rearview mirror.
“I have to go….”
Reilley slammed his fist against the steering wheel. “Son of a bitch! Goddamitt!”
In the distance ahead, he saw a small gas station off the freeway on the right side of the road.
‘At least I can fill up the gas tank while we’re stopped,’ he thought, before raising his voice to yell at the girl. “Fine! I’m pulling over. You’d better get all of it out, ‘cause I’m not stopping again!”
The girl said nothing in response. Instead, she continued to sniffle as she cried.
“Shut up!” he yelled.
As he approached the offramp, his eyes took in the area. There were a handful of buildings close to the gas station: a hotel, a McDonald’s, and a diner. Each was dark, as were the cars parked in front of them. At the gas station, a single vehicle stood near the pumps closest to the doors: a large black Chevy Suburban SUV with a broken rear window and its driver door hanging open.
Pulling off the freeway onto the freeway ramp, he kept a watchful eye on the front to the gas station. He saw no signs of movement near the pumps, the front of the store, or inside the connected convenience store.
He stopped halfway along the exit’s length, about a hundred and fifty yards from where the abandoned Suburban sat, and watched the SUV and the front of the gas station. The wind blew a random brown paper bag across the paved area underneath the shade, but otherwise there was no movement.
Serving as a reminder to the urgency of the situation, Isabella’s stomach gurgled again.
A putrid smell filled the inside of the car.
“Sorry…”
“What the fuck? Dammit, hold it in! We’re stopping here.”
Pressing down on the control for the windows, Reilley lowered all four, allowing fresh air into the car. He shook his head, muttering incoherently as he pressed down on the gas, moving the car forward. At the end of the exit ramp, he drove through the stop sign without slowing, his eyes locked on the front of the gas station as he guided the car towards it.
Stopping at the island of gas pumps across from the one the Suburban sat at, Reilley growled at the girl.
“Stay here.”
With the girl’s legs and wrists tied, he wasn’t actually worried about her getting away, but it still felt like the right thing to say.
Stepping out of the little car, he held the AR-15 he’d stolen from Daniel in front of him as he looked around cautiously. Still seeing no movement, he cautiously approached the SUV. From where he was, he could see the front seats were empty, but he couldn’t see into the back of the vehicle. Moving closer, he sidestepped as he crossed to the front of the SUV, looking through the windshield into the interior. Seeing nothing inside, he sidestepped back towards the driver’s door, then towards the back of the vehicle, all the while keeping the gun pointing towards it. Reaching the back of the Suburban, he peered through the broken rear window.
The body of an elderly black woman had been neatly laid in the cargo area.
Clothed in a neatly pressed flowered dress, stockings, and shiny beige colored flats, the woman looked like she’d been dressed for church. Her hair was neatly done, with one side pinned back with a pin, and a long chain with a cross set outside her dress, displayed prominently for all to see. A thin layer of dust rested on the glasses she wore, telling Reilley she’d been there for a while.
Backing away, he turned and looked towards the front of the store. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark shape resting on the ground near the right side of the small building. Walking that way, still sidestepping so he could keep the gun pointed in front of him, he found a middle aged black man lying face down on the pavement. Dried blood covered the pavement around his head like a massive halo. Flies buzzed around the dead body in a frenzy.
Looking past the man, he saw the door to the gas station’s restrooms on the side of the building. Walking to it, he tried to open it but found it locked as expected.
‘That’s actually a good thing,’ he thought, surmising that a locked bathroom would be unlikely to hold any of the infected.
Returning to the front of the gas station, he paused and evaluated things again to make sure nothing had changed. Looking towards the Prius, he saw the girl looking at him. Her eyes pleaded with him as her mouth moved.
Unable to hear the words, he held up one finger, indicating that she should wait. Turning, he moved to the doors. He realized the glass of the right front door had been broken, its pieces were strewn about the tiled floor of the mini-mart, indicating it’d been broken inward. Leaning forward, he stuck his head through the frame of the door so he could listen for sounds of movement, only to be greeted with the smell of death. Recoiling slightly, he steeled himself and remained there, listening intently.
Hearing nothing, he stepped through the frame and into the small convenience store. Glancing towards the counter, he saw what he assumed was the key to the restrooms sitting on the counter. It was on a short chain, the other end attached to a large, rounded cup-like piece of plastic. Disregarding it momentarily, he stepped to the counter and peered over it. There was nothing behind it.
Moving away from the counter, he checked each of the three short aisles of merchandise for threats and found none. He found the body of the store clerk in the back of the store, propped up against the glass door of what had been the refrigerated section. With the interior of the store dark and warm, he had no need to check the drinks within to know they weren’t cold.
Satisfied that the store was empty and it was safe to bring the girl out, he returned to the front of the store and grabbed the key before heading back outside. Walking to the car, he grabbed the passenger side rear door and threw it open.
The smell of the girl’s gas escaped, making him blink away its putridness.
“Jesus…”
Reaching in, he grabbed the girl by the elbow and pulled her out of the car. With her feet still bound, she stumbled and almost fell before he caught her. Leaning down, he grabbed the end of the rope that was tied around her legs and quickly undid the knot. Tossing the rope back into the car, he said, “Don’t fucking try to run,” before slamming the door and pulling her forward.
When they reached the side of the building, she gasped at the sight of the dead black man but didn’t stop. Using the key, he unlocked the door to the restroom. Pressing his head against the door, he listened for a moment before pulling it open.
The room was dark, the only light in the space provided by a small window that sat high on the wal
l to the right, above the sink.
A single toilet sat to the left, close to the corner of the small space. To its right, a urinal was mounted on the wall.
Pushing the girl forward, he said, “Hurry up.”
Stumbling, she turned and looked back at him. “Can you untie my hands?”
Reilley looked at her skeptically. The thought of her having both her hands and feet free wasn’t appealing.
“I need to wipe,” she said before looking away, embarrassed.
Sighing, he stepped forward and used one hand to untie the rope that held her wrists.
“I’ll be right outside. Don’t try anything stupid.”
“Okay, I just need to go. Can you close the door?”
“Fuck that. Just go. I won’t look.”
The girl’s stomach rumbled again before a loud, wet-sounding fart was released. The smell was horrible.
“Jesus,” he said, shaking his head. “Fine, close the door. I’ll be right outside. Don’t take too fuckin’ long.”
Closing the door, he turned and placed his back to the door as he watched the surrounding area. From this distance, he was able to see into the seating area of the McDonald’s. The place was a bloodbath. Bloody handprints and long streaks covered the windows. Where the glass was still transparent, the limbs of the dead were visible, suspended in death, the bodies of their owners tossed about the tables and seats like old rags.
Turning away, he changed his focus to the diner. For the most part, it was in the same condition as the McDonald’s, except that one of the large windows had been broken outward by the customers in a desperate attempt to escape. The body of a heavyset white man in a t-shirt and jeans was draped across the windowsill, his head and arms dangling downward towards the sidewalk in front of the diner, which had been stained to a rust-color by his blood. Atop the man was the body of one of the waitresses, a thick-bodied woman with brown hair. Like the man, she was slung across the opening, her limbs hanging downward, lifeless.
He started to look away from the diner and towards the hotel when the alarm for the Prius went off.
“What the…” he muttered under his breath, looking towards the front of the gas station. From this angle, he couldn’t see the car.
Looking at the door, he realized the key allowed it to be locked from the outside. He jammed the key in and turned it to the right, feeling the locking mechanism engage.
“I’ll be right back!” He whispered to the girl, not wanting to alert whoever had set off the car’s alarm to his presence.
He heard the girl mumble something in response from inside the room.
Ignoring her, he crept towards the edge of the building. Reaching its edge, he leaned outward until he could see the car. There was nothing and no one there, but the car was still emitting its loud, wailing alarm and both the headlights and tail lights were flashing.
Pausing, he considered his options.
Go to the car and try to see who or what set off the alarm, or wait and see if someone - or something - would show itself.
The alarm continued to blare, drowning out his thoughts.
It would certainly get the attention of anyone in the area.
‘Dammit.’
Taking a deep breath, he stepped around the corner and began moving to his left, his eyes darting between the car and the store as he looked for signs of movement. Still he saw nothing.
Creeping forward, he moved around the Suburban and towards the Prius. He moved slowly and methodically, carefully planting each step as he made his way to the car. When he was finally behind the Prius, he was able to see down both sides of the vehicle.
Nothing.
Still the alarm wailed.
‘Shit.’ Using one hand, he felt the front of his pants, checking each pocket for the keys. They weren’t there.
‘Must have left them in the car,’ he thought. Moving towards the driver door, he looked into the vehicle, making sure it was empty. He opened the door and reached inside for the keys in the ignition.
They weren’t there.
“The fuck?” Leaning into the car, he looked into the cup holder. Nothing. He checked the center console compartment. Nothing.
‘Did she?’ He wondered.
‘But why?’
‘To distract you, you idiot.’
“Fuck!” Turning, he raced back towards the side of the building and to the door to the restroom. Turning the key in the lock, he threw the door open.
The keys to the Prius laid on the floor beneath the sink.
The window above it had been pushed open.
The room was empty.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center, Virginia
“What the hell is taking so long? We need to go! We need to get out there!” Doctor Reed’s combat boots squeaked on the tile as he paced back and forth in the lab, frustrated with the lack of movement since the morning briefing with the President. It had been over seven hours since the briefing, and he’d been itching and ready to go for the last five and a half.
Why nothing was happening was a frustrating mystery to him, and when asked (numerous times), Sergeant Mason had nothing to offer in regards to the lack of action.
“Take it easy, Jon. I’m sure there’s a reason for the delays,” Lisa Bowman replied, offering the best smile she could manage, though she knew - as did he - that her positivity was forced. Though she wasn’t going on the mission, she was nearly as anxious as he was.
Stopping, Jonathan looked over at the tall blonde woman, took a deep breath, and said, “I know. I just feel helpless.” Pointing in the general direction of outside, he went on.
“There are literally people dying out there, and the opportunity to save lives is three thousand miles away. We’ve just got to go there and get it.”
Andrew didn’t bother looking up from the notes he was reviewing as he spoke.
“‘It’ is a child, Jon.”
Reed put his hands up. “Sorry, you’re right. Making sure she’s safe and cared for is priority number one.”
Andrew looked up and met his gaze. “I know, Jon. Sometimes we just need to be reminded of the impact we have on the people who may be required to give a part of themselves to help the greater good.”
“We’re only asking for blood samples,” Reed replied.
“At first.” Andrew countered, removing his glasses and setting them on the desk in front of him. “But what if the answer isn’t there?”
Jonathan looked at Lisa for support, but she simply shrugged. As usual, Andrew was right in his analysis. The prevailing assumption was that the cure would be found in the blood of someone immune, but in truth, the human body was a complex system, with numerous different body fluids that support biochemical reactions of cellular metabolism.
Nothing was certain.
“Then we’ll have to convince her to allow us to run more tests.”
“What if she refuses?”
Reed’s eyes met Andrew’s. “We’ll cross that bridge when and if we reach it.”
The door to the lab opened. It was Mason.
“Captain Reed, it’s time.”
Entering the mission briefing room he’d been in the week before, prior to the mission to Los Angeles, he saw Staff Sergeant McGhee, Sergeant First Class Jacobs, and
three men in flight suits, two of which he’d met previously.
“Captain Quinn, Tech Sergeant Andrews,” he said, nodding.
“Good afternoon, Sir.” The young Captain replied, nodding in return.
“After noon, Sir,” Andrews replied, nodding as well. The man’s previously perfect buzz cut was gone. Completely gone.
Pointing at it, Reed raised his eyebrows.
Andrews reached up and ran his hand over his scalp. “Couldn’t maintain it, and didn’t want it to get out of control, so I shaved it for now.”
“It’s a bold choice,” Reed replied, smiling. He looked at the third person, a young, mid-twenties blonde-haired, blue
eyed man. He looked like he was barely out of high school.
Extending his hand, Reed introduced himself.
“I’m Jon, and you are?”
The young man visibly gulped before responding nervously. “First Lieutenant Knight, Sir.”
Captain Quinn stepped in. “First Lieutenant Knight will be my co-pilot for this mission, Captain.”
Reed was surprised at the information. “What happened to Major Richards?”
The Captain’s eyes met Reed’s as he gestured with his thumb over his shoulder. “Can I talk to you over here, sir?”
Saying nothing, Reed followed the man over to the corner of the room.
Quinn’s eyes showed sorrow and compassion as he spoke.
“Major Richards committed suicide last night, Sir.”
“What? Oh my God….” Reed was stunned. Major Richards had been a strong, competent, positive woman when he’d interacted with her the week prior.
“Yes, Sir. We’ve all taken it hard,” Quinn said, shaking his head.
“Any idea why?”
“Her husband and two children were placed in quarantine after they arrived at the protective zone in Indianapolis…” the man paused, looking away as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. After a bit, he continued. “Apparently, he was infected. They’re all dead.”
Quinn looked at the ceiling, taking a deep breath. “I just met her family a month ago at her daughter Emily’s fifth birthday party. She was a beautiful little girl ….” his voice trailed off. After a few seconds, he added, “so was her little sister.” He turned away, muttering, “I’m sorry.”
Jonathan nodded. “I understand.”
After a few minutes, the two men returned to the others, where they resumed discussions regarding the mission.
Nodding at the young Lieutenant, Jonathan asked, “So Lieutenant, how many missions have you flown in a C-17?”
The young man paused before answering. “Um, none, Sir.”
Surviving Rage | Book 4 Page 5