Return to Yellowstone

by Heath Stallcup

  “Negative, captain.” Vickers sat forward and stared hard at the man. “Yellowstone is ground zero and crawling with Zeds. I had top shelf spec op warriors on the ground there and they all were overrun by them. Your best chance of getting to the collection site and back out in one piece is that man right there.”

  “He’s a civilian, sir.” Hollis was shaking his head as he thumbed through the redacted file.

  “He was the lead Park Ranger for that area. He knows every game trail, mountain pass, mouse house, doghouse, outhouse, you name it, he knows it like the back of his hand.” Vickers stood and walked from behind his desk. “This one man not only was able to skirt every Zed on the mountain, he bypassed or snuck past every one of my men. He knows that park better than you know your own junk.”

  Captain Hollis met the colonel’s eyes and nodded. “Very well, sir.”

  “Your best chance for finding him would be to start with his hometown. He has a sister that still lives there.” Vickers caught himself. “Rather, she did still live there before the Zeds.”

  “Very well, sir. I’ll get a team assembled and we’ll leave in the morning.”

  “Good man.” Vickers clapped him on the shoulder. “Make sure you stay in radio contact at all times. Once you have Hatcher, stay outside the buffer zone to prevent contamination.”

  “Affirmative, sir.” Hollis snapped the folder shut and stood at attention. “Anything else, sir?”

  “Yes, there is.” Vickers turned a steely gaze on the man. “Do not fail.”

  “Wally, you got my ride ready?” Hatcher tossed his pack at the ground beside the old military truck and looked up at the flat green monster inside the warehouse.

  Denny Wallace slipped his head out from under the hood and nodded. “Just about. Just checking all of the fluids before you take her out.” He stepped down from the tall bumper and pulled the hood down with a reverberating clang, then hooked the side latches, locking the hood in place. “Remember, she’ll run on diesel, fuel oil, jet fuel, kerosene…just about anything so long as it’s clean.”

  “And if it isn’t clean?” Jason asked as he fell in behind Hatcher.

  Denny smiled and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Then you’ll clog the fuel filters and you won’t be going anywhere. Fast.”

  Jason moaned, “Great.”

  “Hey, kid, it beats walking the whole way.” Hatcher tossed his gear in the back and opened the door. “How many gallons of fuel do we have with us?”

  Denny patted the metal jerry cans in the flatbed. “Ten five-gallon cans. I have no idea the mileage this thing gets, so try to go easy on it. I shoved a hand pump behind the seat, so if you have to siphon fuel you won’t have to suck on the hose or anything.”

  “A prince among men.” Hatcher turned the key and waited for the yellow light to glow. Hitting the starter button, the big diesel engine roared to life. “Music to my ears.”

  “And to those things out there.” Jason added as he held the door open for Bren. He climbed in after and slammed the door shut.

  Henry Willis handed up two sawed off shotguns and a half-case of shells looted from the local sporting goods shop. “You’re going to attract a lot of attention.” He gave Hatcher a knowing look as he handed him spare magazines for his pistol and another box of ammunition. “Are you sure you don’t want an extra set of eyes for the trip?”

  “Nope. We’ll move faster the fewer of us there are.” Hatcher pushed in the clutch and shoved the monster into gear. Nodding toward the large double doors, he announced, “Let’s do this.”

  Henry motioned to Candy who pulled on one door while Wallace pulled on the other. Hatcher had the huge truck rolling toward the opening before daylight broke the seam. As he passed Candy, she yelled, “Good luck!”

  Daniel’s face was tight with focus as he pushed the accelerator down and shifted through the gears. Jason sat nervously in the passenger seat, shotgun at the ready.

  As the large truck rushed out into the dwindling light, Hatcher was surprised that the Zulus weren’t already on them. He pulled the lever bringing the lights on and instantly switched them to high beam. “I’m not seeing any company.”

  Jason shook his head. “Me neither, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t out there.”

  Bren pointed ahead, through the windshield. “There.”

  Both men’s eyes followed her slender hand and saw three Zulus standing to the side of another building observing their departure. As soon as Hatcher turned for the main road, the three figures took off at a dead run on an intercept course. Hatcher couldn’t hear them over the roar of the engine, but seeing their mouths opening and closing, he was certain they were screaming for reinforcements.

  Hatcher could feel the adrenaline begin to rush through his body as the figures began to advance on the slow-moving truck. He shoved the accelerator down harder and found another gear, forcing more speed from the monster. He was no math genius, but he could tell that the angle of their approach would put them on a perfect intercept course.

  Hatcher had two choices. He could either continue on his course toward the main road and the highway, or turn right and go three blocks down and attempt to make the highway from there. Turning would slow the truck, but it would also put off their angle of attack. He also knew he’d have to slow the truck for the turns and that was precious speed lost and time for the Zulus to catch up. As the intersection approached, he made a last-minute decision. “Hold on!”

  He tossed the shotgun into the seat beside Bren and hit the brake at the same time he turned the wheel. The large rubber tires beneath them protested as the heavy truck made the turn much too fast, but Hatcher quickly downshifted and floored the accelerator once more. Running through the gears, he chanced a peek into the side mirrors and saw the pursuers break around the corner of the far buildings, much farther back than he would have hoped for. “This might work.”

  “What might work?” Bren asked as she braced herself against the dashboard.

  “Trying to ditch these assholes.” Hatcher smiled at the quickly fading reflections in the side mirrors and prepared to cut across part of a parking lot to prevent having to make such a sharp turn at the next corner when more broke out in front of them.

  “What about them? Can’t you just run them over?” Jason pointed excitedly at the small group of Zulus that entered their path.

  Hatcher cursed under his breath and pushed the accelerator down harder. “Hitting a human body isn’t like hitting a cat or a dog. They can knock holes into the radiator or tear up pieces of the front end.” Hatcher jerked the wheel to the side and grazed one of the newcomers, then jerked it back the other way and felt something large go under the front tire, bouncing the entire truck into the air. He chanced a glance to Jason. “That was just one of them.”

  Daniel continued to try to thread the large truck between the main mass of on-comers while preparing for the turn ahead. He downshifted and gave the truck more fuel, praying that it would get better traction as he pulled the wheel for a hard left and onto another street. Downshifting again and flooring the truck, he noticed one of the Zulus had managed to grab onto the side mirror of the passenger side and was beating against the window, brown streaks of nastiness smearing the glass. “Roll your window down part way and shoot the son of a bitch!”

  Jason gave Hatcher a frightened look and then raised the shotgun to the glass. His hand shook violently as he reached for the handle and began to slowly lower the window. A bloodstained hand swiped at the open glass and tried to force its way inside the opening. Jason had leaned so far back he was practically in Bren’s lap. Finally, he angled the barrel of the shotgun through the opening and pulled the trigger. He couldn’t see if he hit the creature, but the ensuing scream and the body that fell from the side of the truck made him think that at least part of the buckshot had found its way to the target.

  Jason leaned back in the seat and tried to catch his breath while Bren continually ran her fingers in and out of her ears, t
rying to stop the ringing.

  “We have more company!” Hatcher yelled. He glanced at Jason and nodded with his chin. “You might want to rack another round into that thing and get ready.”

  Jason stared at the shotgun as if it were a foreign object, then just as suddenly remembered how to use it. He jacked the slide and chambered another shell. Looking up through the windshield, he saw five more creatures running toward the truck…the onramp to the highway just blocks behind them. “What do we do?”

  Hatcher ground his teeth together. “Too many to avoid. I say, roll that window down, lean out and clear a path.”

  Jason looked at him as if he had three heads. “With a shotgun?”

  “You’d better hurry.” Hatcher shifted again and steered the truck toward the side where the group was a little less populated.

  Jason quickly rolled down the window and leaned his head and torso out. Placing the shotgun against his shoulder, he lined up on the lead creature and squeezed the trigger. Although he couldn’t see the damage, the lead Zulu suddenly dropped, both hands clutching its leg. Jason racked another shell into the chamber and took aim on the next closest and squeezed. Nothing happened, and he suddenly pulled himself back in as the truck bounced two Zulus off of each front fender, sending them flying in either direction. One Zulu went under the truck and could be heard bouncing against the undercarriage. The last one jumped to the side at the last second, then turned and followed the metal monster with food inside.

  Jason turned a worried look to Hatcher. “Ya think the one that went under did any damage?”

  Hatcher shrugged. “No way to know until we stop, and I ain’t stopping until I have to.”

  Bren patted Hatcher’s arm. “Good plan.”

  Candy and Vicky walked back toward the infirmary, talking as they went. “He’s just changed so much over the last few months. I mean, I can’t say that I really knew Hatcher before the outbreak, but…” Candy stared down the hallway and shook her head, eyes fogging. “Somehow I know he wasn’t like this.”

  “I’ve seen something like this when I worked at Walter Reed. Soldiers come back from combat and their own families don’t even recognize them.” Vicky placed a comforting hand on Candy’s shoulder. “The good news is, they usually come back. I mean, mentally, the soldiers usually find a way to make things work and…”

  Candy nodded. “But that’s for soldiers who are out of the battle zone, Vicky. We’re still living in it.” She met Vicky’s eyes and her lip quivered. “There may not be an end to this war.”

  Vicky pulled the other woman into a brief embrace and stroked her back. “There’s always an end. It just sometimes takes time.”

  Candy stepped back and wiped at her eyes. “I don’t know who’s the bigger basket case. Me or you.” She laughed nervously as she turned into the infirmary.

  “Come on in, I’ll buy you a drink.” Vicky shut the door behind them and pulled a bottle of medicinal whiskey from her desk drawer. She looked at the bottle and grimaced. “This is pure rotgut.”

  “Ah, only the good stuff for your friends.” Candy laughed as she took a seat next to the desk.

  “In these days and times, beggars can’t be choosy.” Vicky pulled out two specimen cups and poured the cheap whiskey for the two, then screwed the cap back on and slipped it back into her drawer. They held the cups up and Vicky took a sip. “Holy wow. That will put hair on your chest.”

  Candy wheezed and set her cup back down. “That will put hair on your throat!” The two women laughed and relaxed a moment, their thoughts going out to the party that had just left and was headed to Colorado.

  “Do you think they’ll make it?” Candy asked without realizing the words had even been uttered.

  Vicky stared at the amber liquid in the plastic cup and inhaled deeply. “They better.”

  A soft knock at the door of the infirmary pulled both women from their melancholy mood. Vicky stood and opened the door. A teenage girl stood there, face downcast. “Can I help you, sweetie?”

  The girl avoided Vicky’s gaze and muttered something unintelligible. “What was that, sugar? You need to speak up. Is something wrong?”

  She finally looked up and met Vicky’s eyes. Her face was red from crying and the fear was evident. “I got some bad news for ya, but I don’t wanna be in no trouble for telling it.”

  Vicky opened the door wider and ushered the girl in. “It’s okay, sweetie. You can tell me. You won’t get in trouble.”

  The girl’s eyes bounced around the infirmary and finally settled on Candy. “What about her?”

  Vicky chuckled and shook her head. “No, honey, she won’t get you in trouble, either.” She sat back down and coaxed the girl to approach her desk. “Now why don’t you take a deep breath and tell me what the problem is.”

  The girl faced Vicky and nearly whispered, “Skeeter done run off.”

  “Skeeter what?” Vicky sat up quickly and stared at the young girl. “How do you know that?”

  “She and I share a room most nights. She heard that Hatcher was gonna take them new folks somewhere and…” her voice trailed off.

  “She what, sweetie? What did Skeeter do?”

  “She packed a bag and snuck into the back of the truck. She done went with them.”

  Skeeter held on underneath the old oily tarp as best she could. When the truck hit a big bounce in the road, she nearly squealed. She had to bite her tongue to keep quiet. She just knew that if Hatcher found her in the back of the truck, he’d turn it around and take her back. Even if he had to wait a long time before he could take off again, he’d do it. For some reason, he liked to pretend she couldn’t take care of herself.

  Skeeter knew she wasn’t grown yet, and she knew she couldn’t possibly know everything there was to know about the Zulus or the world outside, but if there was any way for her to find out about the Free Zones firsthand, it was a risk worth taking.

  She had snuck into the back of the truck right after they had finished stacking the cans of fuel in and strapping them down. There were supplies in the back, and Henry had covered them with this old, stinky, oily tarp. It was heavy and it made her sweat a lot, but it kept her covered and nobody knew she was there. She actually found it funny that nobody thought to check one last time before Hatcher left, just to make sure he had everything.

  She had this funny tingling feeling inside. It made her almost need to pee. But once the truck started and it began to move, the feeling subsided. As soon as she had heard the first scream, though…despite the sweat covering her body, she broke into chill bumps. The hair on her neck stood on end and her body froze in place. She knew they were close. She felt the bumps against the truck and knew it had to be them bouncing off the outside of the truck as Hatcher drove it to safety. When the truck bounced so high in the air, she almost wished it was one of them going under a tire. She even heard one go under the truck and bounce off the bottom, all the way to the back. It made her smile to think that the Zulus were so stupid they’d let themselves get run over by a tank of a truck.

  Now that they were on the highway and the steady rhythm of the tires on the pavement made their continuous hum, she almost felt sleepy under the big green tarp. She pulled herself to one of the crates and used it as a pillow. The steel bed of the truck was her cot and the tarp her blanket. She closed her eyes and allowed her body to rest. The constant adrenaline rushes had paid a toll.

  As she closed her eyes and her breathing slowed, she thought of only one thing…how happy Hatcher would be when he found her in the back of the truck.

  Chapter 4

  Captain Hollis waited while they mounted the sonic canon to the bottom of the helicopter. He nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he watched the techs run the control cables up into the cabin of the chopper and swap them out for one of the gun arrays. “Is this going to take much longer?”

  The lead tech paused and glanced over his shoulder. “We’re working as fast as we can, sir. Trust me. You want
this to be in perfect operating—”

  “I know what it is, and I understand the necessity for it. I just need you to hurry.” His tone was anything but professional.

  “Thirty more minutes, captain.” The tech turned back to his work and began threading cables through the bulkhead.

  Hollis stifled a curse and turned to leave. He found his support team gearing up and decided to make an announcement. “You all are aware of our target? You realize this is your standard snatch and grab?”

  Most of the men barely gave him a glance as they continued working. Their disdain for the science guy was palpable. Hollis was not satisfied with the mutterings he got in reply and stepped closer to the operators as they continued to ignore him. “Are you men hard of hearing?” He kicked over a chair and glared at them. “I realize the world has gone to shit, but this is still a military vessel, we are all military men, and the last time I checked, I outrank each and every one of you.”

  One of the operators slowly turned and eyed the man in his desert fatigues. “We heard you. Sir.” The displeasure in his voice caused Hollis’ jaw to tic.

  Captain Hollis stepped in and closed the gap between himself and insubordinate man. “Do you have any idea whom you’re dealing with, soldier?”

  “A science geek.” The man’s eyes narrowed at Hollis. “With captain’s bars.”

  “Negative soldier. You’re speaking to a Green Beret.” He watched the man’s eyes slowly open wider with shock, then recognition as he saw the unit patch on his shoulder. “With captain’s bars.”

  The soldier snapped to attention and shouted, “Apologies, sir.”

  Hollis stared at him from boot to chin strap and shook his head. “It shouldn’t matter if I were spec op or not. You men know better than to disrespect a ranking officer.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.”

  Hollis ground his teeth as he considered his options, but decided he might need the men once they reached the park. “Get your shit together and get to the chopper. Double time!”