Return to Yellowstone

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Return to Yellowstone Page 2

by Heath Stallcup


  After having abandoned Washington D.C. and the White House, the government had fallen back and tried to settle in at the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Being underground in a nuclear bunker seemed like a good idea, considering it had redundant systems for nearly everything. At least until the doors were sealed from the inside and support personnel began turning. Those who survived the evacuation of Washington barely survived the evacuation from Cheyenne Mountain. Air support was called in that helped clear the evac route, but many were lost in the action. Eventually, it was decided to temporarily set up on the aircraft carrier, the USS Ronald Reagan. With support ships keeping a tight formation, and more ships joining the flotilla almost daily, the largest virus free nation in the world was actually a flotilla of American warships.

  Vickers had been forced to move the majority of his personnel from site to site to try to keep ahead of the mobs of infected. Eventually, it was decided to move them all out to a medical frigate and have them set up shop where the infected couldn’t run them from their research and they could actually accomplish something. But the results of their research had steadily grown worse with each move, and the reason why had just recently been discovered. He really wasn’t looking forward to the briefing he was about to make.

  He found himself being escorted to the president’s new office, previously the commanding officer’s office. With the government being set up upon a naval vessel, the ship’s new call sign had been designated Navy One. Not something that went over well with a lot of the sailors aboard the proud ship, but it was felt that if nothing else, appearances had to be maintained.

  Vickers stood until the tall man invited him to take a seat. “Colonel, please tell me we have some good news for a change.” President Walters leaned forward, his face hopeful.

  Vickers met his gaze but his face betrayed him. “I’m afraid not, sir.” He pulled a brief from his satchel and set it on the man’s desk. “I had my people double and triple check the data.”

  President James Herbert Walters was an ex-military man before he made his name in business. He knew numbers, but he didn’t know science. He’d never minced his words when speaking with his staff before, and he wasn’t about to start now. “Will I be able to understand this?” He reached for the report and flipped open the worn manila folder.

  “It’s a little dry, Jim, but it’s in layman’s terms.” Vickers stood and stepped over to the bar. “You mind?”

  President Walter’s shook his head. “Pour me one as well. We may as well enjoy it while we still have some.” He perused the file and eventually came to the summary. “So if I’m reading this right, the virus has mutated?”

  “Well, yes and no.” Vickers handed the man his drink and took his seat again. “The samples we use in the lab have somehow mutated, but the fresh stuff we’re getting out in the field…”

  “What?”

  Vickers took a long pull from his drink then cradled his glass. “Well, sir, to be honest, it’s hard to tell.”

  Walter closed the file and placed it on the corner of his desk. “What’s the bottom line, Bill?”

  Vickers cleared his throat and met the man’s gaze. “We need to find the source and see if we can get the original virus if we’re ever going to have a hope of finding an effective anti-viral.”

  The president stared at the man for a long period. “You mean we have to fly somebody back to Yellowstone and scoop up some of the goo?”

  Vickers cleared his throat and bounced his head back and forth. “It’s not really that simple, sir.”

  “Then please, explain it to me.” Walters picked up his drink and took a long swallow.

  “With the virus having been made airborne, and the activity that is still coming out of Yellowstone, we need to send somebody in on the ground. We can’t approach from the air.”

  “Why the hell not? Send them in wearing those chicken suits, scoop up the goo, and bring them back.” Walters’ face was twisted in confusion.

  “Sir, if the virus in the air has mutated, sending in a chopper will mix it all up. Contaminate the ground source as well. We won’t get a good sample.”

  “For the love of…” Walters sat back and pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought. “So we can use a chopper to get them close, right?”

  “Within twenty clicks. Anything closer than that runs the risk of—”

  “Yeah, I got ya.” The president stood and stretched his neck. “Do we have any spec op boys available to make this run?”

  Vickers lowered his eyes and rattled the ice in his drink. “We need a trained scientist to collect the samples, sir.”

  Walters sighed heavily and dropped his head. “Of course we do.” He stepped back to his chair and all but fell into it ungracefully. “Let me guess. LaRue wants to be the one?”

  Vickers shook his head. “Actually sir, she doesn’t want to be within a hundred miles of the place.”

  “Tell me you have somebody in mind.” Walters eyed him suspiciously.

  Vickers nodded slightly. “I do. But neither of us like it.”

  The president groaned under his breath and Vickers nodded. “Not that touchy-feely son of a bitch…”

  “Yes, sir.” Vickers raised his eyes to meet his. “He is the best candidate. He used to be a spec op soldier, he’s got a Masters in Microbiology. He may be a son of a bitch, but he’s been a huge help in the lab.”

  Walters closed his eyes and shook his head. “And he’s volunteered to go on this mission?”

  “Not yet. But I’m sure he will once I announce that it needs to be made.”

  Walters exhaled hard and nodded. “Fine. Make it happen. The sooner the better.”

  “There is…one more thing,” Vickers added hesitantly.

  “Oh, please. Tell me the ship is sinking.” Walters added sarcastically.

  Vickers snorted a chuckle and shook his head. “Negative, sir.” He finished his drink and set it on the desk. “We need to find a man, if he’s still alive.”

  “If he’s…who?”

  “His name is Hatcher.” Vickers face remained stoic.

  The president stared at him for a moment until a light of recognition crossed his features. “He was the guard or some such at the park, wasn’t he?”

  “Park Ranger,” Vickers corrected.

  “Why on earth do we need him?”

  “The park is literally ground zero. It’s bound to be crawling with the Zeds. Hatcher knows every inch of it. If anybody can get our man in and out in one piece, it’s him.” Vickers hated to admit it, but Hatcher had been hovering in the back of his mind ever since this option first came to his attention.

  “I still don’t see why. Hollis was a spec op soldier. Surely he can handle himself…”

  “Sir, with all due respect, I had a whole squadron of men like that up on that mountain. Most of them are Zeds now.” Vickers paused to allow his statement to sink in. “Even if I sent in a SEAL team to escort Hollis, chances are, we’d just be adding to the Zed population by sundown.”

  Walters studied Vickers for a moment. “And you really think that this Park Ranger can do what a SEAL team can’t?”

  Vickers nodded. “He avoided them all before, including my men. He knows every game trail, short cut, side road…you name it. The man knows that park.”

  Walters put his hands up in surrender. “Okay. If you say you need him, send a team out to find this guy.” He stood, indicating the meeting was over, then paused. “You do have an idea where he is, don’t you?”

  Vickers shook his head. “No, sir, I don’t.” He turned and headed for the door. “But I will.”

  Chapter 2

  “Candy, how’re you holding up?” Hatcher patted her shoulder as she walked by.

  “I’ve been better.” Her voice betrayed the pain she felt.

  Hatcher held her arm, stopping her in mid-step. “What happened?”

  She shook her head and looked away. “Nothing. I’ll be fine.”

  “Right. I know that tone.”
Hatcher pulled her aside and tried to get her to look at him. It was obvious now she had been crying. “Tell me what happened.” His voice was low and soft, not letting the others hear his concern.

  She lowered her head and averted her eyes, her gaze unfocused. “There were kids in that group, Hatch.”

  “Oh, no…”

  “And I torched them just to get them off the damned door.” Her voice broke as she spoke and her resolve threatened to let go. He pulled her close and tried to wrap his arms around her, but she pushed him away. “No. I’ll start crying again, and I promised myself I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Hey, sometimes you gotta let yourself. If you try to hold it all in, it can eat you up from the inside.” He kept trying to look her in the eyes and she kept avoiding his gaze.

  “I have to keep telling myself they weren’t kids anymore, Hatch. I just have to. Otherwise—” Her bottom jaw quivered and she turned from him. “Anyway, I have to go check in.”

  He let go of her arms and let her slip away. “If you need to talk later, you know where to find me.”

  She waved a hand over her shoulder as she continued down the hallway. Hatcher watched her go and couldn’t help but worry for her. He knew the stress of being constantly on guard was getting to all of them, but throw in the added stressors like what she had gone through tonight? Sometimes people needed to allow themselves a little breakdown just to get it out of their systems.

  Hatcher continued watching Candy as Skeeter came rushing down the hallway. “Hatcher!”

  “Hey, squirt.” He opened his arms and wrapped one over her shoulder. “What are you up to tonight? Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

  “Nurse Vicky needs to see you. She asked me to fetch you and the rest of the council. You’re the last one.” She sounded breathless as she talked, and Hatcher imagined she had run all over the warehouse looking for him.

  “Okay, squirt. I’m guessing she’s in the infirmary?”

  “Yup.” She clung to him as he walked down the hall. “It sounded real important. Can I come and listen, too? I’ll be real quiet.”

  Hatcher shook his head. “No ma’am. It’s way past your bedtime.” He pulled her in closer and gave her a one-armed hug. “Scoot. Get your hiney off to bed.”

  “Aww, Hatcher, please?” Her voice went up an octave as she whined. “I’m not a kid, you know.”

  “You heard me, missy. Scoot.” He playfully swatted her bottom to get her moving.

  “But maybe she wants to hear about the Free Zone? Did you hear anything when you were out tonight?” Skeeter’s eyes were big now as she inquired about every child’s hope these days.

  Hatcher shook his head again. “I didn’t hear nothing tonight. I was too busy getting supplies. Now go to sleep before we both get in trouble.”

  Skeeter dropped her head and began shuffling her feet as she very slowly worked her way to the room she shared with another teenage girl. She glanced over her shoulder to see if maybe the sad eyes and pouty lip would change his mind, but he had already disappeared around a corner.

  Skeeter worked her way into her room and tried to quietly slip into her cot. The other girl in her room rolled over, and in the moonlight from the window she could see that her eyes were wide open. “Did he say anything about the Free Zone tonight?”

  Skeeter shook her head. “Naw. Said he was too busy scrounging up supplies.”

  The other girl sighed in resignation and rolled onto her back. “Do you think we’ll ever make it to a Free Zone?”

  Skeeter settled into her own cot and stared at the ceiling. “I sure hope so. I’m sick of hearing them scream all the time.”

  “Me, too.”

  “I’d love to have a place where there’s no Zulus. Just healthy people and food and clean water.” Skeeter smiled to herself.

  “I heard that some of the Free Zones have electricity and everything. Just like before.” Her voice sounded so hopeful, as if simply saying it and hoping for it hard enough would make it so.

  “That would be nice.” Skeeter closed her eyes and tried to imagine the place they described. “You know what I miss? I mean, I never thought I would, but I really do.”

  “Boys?” the other girl giggled.

  Skeeter choked on a laugh and shook her head. “No. I miss school.”

  “School? Why?” Her roommate sounded disgusted at the very idea.

  “Just getting up and going to school every day. Hanging out with my friends. Everything.”

  “I miss hot showers,” the other girl added sadly. “And television.”

  Skeeter nodded. “Yeah. And ice cream. And pizza. And movies. And—”

  “Okay, stop.” Her roommate rolled over. “Now you’re just depressing me.”

  Skeeter opened her eyes and stared at the peeling ceiling. “Yeah, me, too.”

  Hatcher started to knock on the infirmary door and noticed that Wally and Henry were already inside waiting for him. “Sorry I’m late. Did I miss much?” Hatcher smiled at the others and Vicky waved him in.

  “Shut the door, Daniel. We need to have a meeting.” She pulled a chair around for so the group could sit facing each other.

  “This sounds sort of serious.” Hatcher checked the hall, then pulled the door shut. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s about the new people that came in tonight,” Vicky began.

  “Oh, no.” Wally stood up defensively. “One of them’s infected, ain’t they?”

  “No!” Vicky stood and calmed the large man down. “No, they’re not infected. At least, not that I can tell.”

  Once Wally was seated, Henry leaned forward. “Then what’s the problem?”

  Vicky cleared her throat and looked each man in the eye. “I can’t be certain just yet, but I think there’s a distinct possibility the female may be immune.”

  As expected, her statement caught the group by surprise, and the murmuring of the group almost broke into shouts. “Okay, wait! Calm down, let’s hear her out,” Hatcher almost shouted. “Go on Vicky. Tell us what you found.”

  “Well, as I was doing the inspection, I found a scratch.” She held her hands up to stop the men before they could interrupt. “It was an older scratch. It was nearly healed, and was really more of a scar. The young lady said they ran into the woods to get away from a Zulu and either it scratched her, or a branch got her.”

  “Well, then a branch had to have gotten her. We all know that if you’re scratched or bitten, you’re as good as gone,” Henry stated matter of factly.

  “Hank, I’ve worked in a clinic most of my adult life. I know what a deep scratch from another human looks like. That was no branch.” Vicky’s eyes convinced him that she was already convinced.

  The group sat in silence for a moment as they considered the ramifications. Finally, Wally spoke up, “So what does this mean?”

  Vicky shook her head. “For us, not much. I mean, I’m just a nurse. I’m not trained for that kind of stuff. We’d need a virologist or immunologist or…”

  “Or the CDC,” Hatcher interrupted.

  They all turned and stared. Henry shook his head. “Surely the CDC is gone by now. I mean, they were on the frontlines trying to fight this thing. If they were still up and running, surely by now they would have made some kind of leeway.”

  Hatcher shrugged his shoulders. “Unless they lost power, too. Or had to seal themselves inside to protect themselves from the Zulus. Who knows what condition the CDC is in.”

  “Man, the CDC is clear across the country in Atlanta.” Wally was on his feet now. “There’s no way we could get that girl that far.”

  The group instantly felt defeated until Hatcher stood up, too. “Fort Collins.” He snapped his fingers.

  “Fort what?” Vicky asked.

  “Fort Collins!” Hatcher was nearly giddy with excitement. “Think of it as a military CDC. They do virus stuff there.”

  “How the hell do you know that?” Henry asked.

  Hatcher paused and stared at the trio. He e
xhaled hard and sat back down. “I ran into a military guy that was from there. He told me some stuff. I don’t remember all the particulars, but I remember he was from Fort Collins and he dealt in viruses.”

  “Like, weaponized viruses?” Vicky asked. “Could that be where this came from?”

  Hatcher shook his head. “I don’t really know for sure where or what this thing is.” He looked around at the group. “But Fort Collins isn’t that far, and it’s a damn sight closer than Georgia. If anybody can check out this girl and see if there’s a way to get a cure or, or…a vaccine or something from her blood, then my money is it’s at Fort Collins.”

  Vicky held her hands up to stop them. “Before we go too much further, there’s a guy who used to be an EMT. He offered to assist me if I ever needed it. So, before we go planning any out of state trips, I think we ought to have him take a look at her, too.” The men gave her questioning looks. “It’s the closest thing to a second opinion we’re going to get around here. If Larry says it looks like a human scratch to him, too, then we can decide to move forward. Agreed?” The men all nodded and muttered ‘agreed.’ “Until then, we keep this quiet. We keep it to ourselves. We don’t want to cause any false hopes or any unnecessary panic in the people living here.”

  “They didn’t flip out when they saw the scratch on your shoulder?” Jason’s eyes bore into the young woman sitting across from him in the bleak candlelight.

  She shook her head slightly, her eyes downcast. “No.” Her voice was so soft it could barely be heard in the darkness. She pulled a small corner from the piece of bread she held and slipped it into her mouth.

 

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