Simon waited a few moments then heard the radio crackle to life. “It’s empty inside. Nothing left but a few empty jugs.”
“Son of a bitch!” Simon kicked at the sand and tugged the ragged ends of his beard. He suddenly looked up and smiled through jagged, stained teeth. “Bring me the truck.”
The dirty biker had climbed back to join the others and felt compelled to ask, “What ya gonna do with the truck, boss?”
“Figure out where it came from.”
“I doubt it’s registered to them, Simon. That’s an old military truck.”
Simon turned and glared at the man. “Don’t need no registration, dumbass. We’re gonna figure out how far they came and then backtrack. Once we figure out what town they came from, we hunt down their hiding place.”
The dirty man smiled and nodded, his mind still not connecting the dots. “Okay…but then what?”
“Then what? Then we take what we want and leave the rest to the cannibal crazies, that’s what.” Simon began to laugh as the multiple possibilities ran through his mind. Food, women, firearms, ammunition…and if he was lucky, liquor. “We’re gonna clean ’em out and take what’s ours.”
Vickers knocked once then stepped inside the president’s office. “We’ve located Hatcher. Hollis just radioed in.”
President Walters looked up from the papers in front of him and nodded. “He didn’t resist in any way?”
“No, sir. Apparently, they were under attack by some rogue bikers. A military helicopter firing a few well-placed rounds scattered the attackers and won Hatcher’s good graces.”
President Walters placed his pen down and stared out the small window. “Hatcher’s home was under attack and he just decides to leave it all behind?”
“Negative, sir. Apparently, he was en route to Colorado. Claims he has a woman with him that is immune. He thought the CDC was still up and running there, and they could make a cure from her immunity.”
President Walters turned and gave him a curious look. “Is that a viable alternative?”
Vickers shrugged. “If she is truly immune, I suppose it’s possible. But as much as the virus has mutated, it could be that she is simply immune to the latest variation.”
Walters nodded. “And that’s what we’re facing now, yes? Why not bring her in and see?”
“We will, sir. When the time is right.” Vickers poured himself a drink and sat down opposite his commander in chief. “As it stands now, we still need that primordial sample.”
Walter’s eyes narrowed, and he studied the man across from him. “What are you not telling me, Vickers?”
Colonel William Vickers smiled and twirled the glass in his fingers. “We intend to bring her in, but we need to make it appear as though we are offering sanctuary to all of the people in their compound. If we simply snatch the immune one and leave the rest…there may be complications.”
President Walters groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, she is important.”
“Yes, sir. But we can’t allow the others to know that just yet.” He swallowed his drink and set the glass back on the tray. “Trust me on this one, sir. We have a viable plan.”
“I never thought I’d see the day where we’d be snatching people from their homes, against their will, in an effort to find an end to this.”
“This is war, sir. War is ugly.”
Walters leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “That doesn’t mean we have to surrender our humanity in order to win it.”
Vickers nodded and stood up. “Unfortunately, sir, times as they are, it does.”
Chapter 6
Candy stood upon the rooftop as the large military helicopter chopped its way across the sky. This time she was prepared as the craft settled in for a landing. She squeezed her eyes shut and shielded her face from the bits of debris that the blades churned up.
“Same bird?” Henry yelled above the noise.
“Looks like it.” Candy bent low and continued to shield her face. “Damned if they won’t have every Zulu for miles zeroed in on us.”
Henry had his back turned to the churning blades and slowly turned to face the machine once the wind died down. He nearly choked when Hatcher stepped out of the open door with Skeeter and the couple in tow. “He don’t look happy.”
Daniel practically dragged Skeeter toward Candy and handed her to the woman. “Do something with her.”
Candy gave him a curious look. “Like what?”
“I would say ground her, but it’s not like you can take her cell phone.” He glared at Skeeter who avoided his gaze.
Candy gave the young girl a disapproving stare. “I’m sure we can find extra chores she can do.”
Daniel marched past the trio and entered the building. Candy tried to catch up and had to yell, “Where are you going?”
“To get my gear.”
She paused and turned to Skeeter. “Any idea what he’s up to?”
She shrugged. “I think he’s leaving with the Army guys.”
Candy groaned and trotted after Hatcher. She stopped at the doorway and pointed a finger at Skeeter. “You, down below now. And I better see elbows swinging, young lady.” She pulled the door open and disappeared into the darkness.
Skeeter turned to Henry and shrugged. “What does she mean, elbows swinging?”
Henry patted her shoulder and gave her a gentle push toward the doorway. “That means you better get busy cleaning something and don’t slow down. Especially if she comes around.”
Skeeter sighed heavily and trudged toward the door, regretting her decision to stow away.
Candy caught up to Hatcher and pulled his arm to get his attention. “Hey, I was calling you.”
Daniel turned back to his things and stuffed more gear into a small duffel. “I’m in a rush.”
“No shit.” Candy planted her hands on her hips and continued to watch him ignore her. “Mind telling me who the hell they are?”
“Military.” Hatcher fought back a shudder as the word escaped his lips.
“Again, no shit. What are they doing on the roof and why were they looking for you earlier?”
Hatcher paused and took a deep breath. “They need someone who knows the park.” He turned and faced her. “They pulled our fat out of the fire…so to speak.”
“How so?”
He shook his head, too many thoughts running through his mind at once to make a coherent sentence.
“Breathe, Hatcher. Just tell me what’s going on.”
He dropped his duffel and took a deep breath. “There’s some scientist soldier onboard that craft. They need to get back to the park and get a sample of the…contagion…that caused all of this.”
“Just catch a Zulu and drain them.” She caught herself grinning.
“They can’t. Apparently, the virus has mutated somehow and now they need the original strain.” He picked up his duffel and began shoving more gear into it.
“Wait. So, why do they need you?”
“I know the park. Better than anybody.”
“And just how do they know this?” Her voice dripped with doubt and Hatcher knew exactly why.
“They’re with the government, Candy. According to them, they salvaged what was left of the government and have everybody off shore on some kind of flotilla. They’re working on a cure, but they need the original strain, and the only way to get that is if I lead them through the park to where it came from.”
“Do you know where it came from?” Candy’s voice dropped low and she glanced around to make sure nobody overheard.
“Sort of.” Hatcher tugged at the zipper and sealed his duffel. He stood up straight and eyed her. “They said it is a heat loving virus and it originated at the park. That tells me it came from one of the hot springs. Probably near where they dropped the bomb.”
“Good lord.”
“And since I know the place—”
“Hatcher, that place must be crawling with Zulus. You’d be walking into cannibal
central.”
“I won’t be alone. There will be soldiers with me.” He slung the duffel and tried to step around her. She immediately put herself in his way again.
“There were soldiers there last time, and last I heard, they didn’t walk out.”
“That was then. Surely they’ve either moved on or…or have starved to death.” Daniel tried again to step around her and Candy placed a hand on his chest to stop him.
“Hold on just a cotton-pickin’ minute.” She pushed him back farther into his room. “Talk to me, Hatcher. People are going to want to know what the hell is going on.”
Hatcher sighed and dropped the duffel again. “Look, Candy, all I know is, they’re working on a cure and they need me to get through the park.”
“And how did they pull your fat from the fire?”
“Oh. Yeah. That.” Hatcher scratched at his chin. “You might want to keep people close on their scavenger hunts. There’s groups of people out there that…well, they’re not infected, but they’re worse than the Zulus.”
“Bandits?”
“That’s one thing you could call them.” Hatcher glanced passed her shoulder and saw Henry approaching. “Just keep our people close. Don’t take any chances.”
“What about Jason and Bren?”
Hatcher paused and shook his head. “Apparently Fort Collins is gone. There’s nothing there.” He waved Henry closer as the man approached. “They’ve got a makeshift CDC on one of the ships and we’re going to fly Jason and Bren to the flotilla before we head up to the park.”
“Woah. You’re going back to Yellowstone?” Henry wedged himself between the two in the small quarters and gave Daniel a questioning stare. “What the hell for?”
“They need me to escort them through the park. They need a sample of the original contagion.” Hatcher sighed. “Candy can fill you in. All I know is, time is of the essence here.” He picked up his duffel again and turned to Candy. “Remember, keep our people close. Extra diligence on the wall and keep your eyes peeled for these assholes. They don’t play well with others.”
“Meaning they like to shoot first and ask questions later.”
“Exactly.” Hatcher clapped Henry on the shoulder. “Keep a close eye on everybody. Especially Skeeter. She’s…getting too big for her britches.”
“You know it, Hatch, but—”
Candy interrupted, “I’ll fill you in Hank. Daniel has places he has to be.” She stepped aside and let Hatcher pass.
“What the hell is going on here, Candy?”
She sighed and watched Daniel practically run through the hall. “They’re with the government and they’re here to help.”
Henry groaned. “Fuck me.”
Daniel tossed his duffel into the chopper and stepped up into the craft. He quickly sat and strapped in.
“Got everything?” Hollis asked.
“What I could think to grab.”
“Maps?” Hollis asked hopefully.
Daniel tapped the side of his head. “Got all of that up here.”
Hollis banged on the backside of the cabin and yelled into his mic, “Let’s go. I want to be back onboard before sundown.”
Hatcher listened to the engines rev and watched as the craft gently lifted from the roof of what had become their home. He closed his eyes until they reached cruising altitude and he could feel the air whipping through the open door. He settled into his seat and slowly opened his eyes.
Buildings slid by underneath the craft and he craned his neck to see if he could spot the marauders anywhere near the town. To his relief they weren’t to be seen. He leaned back and felt a gentle touch on his leg. He glanced to the side to see Bren staring at him with wide eyes.
He keyed his coms. “What’s wrong?”
“Are you sure we can trust these guys?”
Hollis leaned forward, catching her attention. “We can hear you.” He smiled, tapping his headphones.
Bren blanched and sat back, eyes studying the soldier across from her. Hatcher waved the man off and turned to her. “If we could have gotten you and Jason to Fort Collins, odds are, these are the same people who would have tried to help. The only real difference is, you’re going to a much safer place.”
Hollis nodded. “We have the best equipment, the best minds…hell, the only minds left now. But don’t worry. We’ll take good care of you. You’ll be safe offshore. You won’t have to worry about anything attacking you in your sleep.”
Jason watched the pair as they spoke, listening to every word. He wished he could know what the large soldier was thinking, as something about his demeanor, his voice…something about him was setting off alarm bells.
He switched to the secondary channel and listened to the pilots chat, occasionally reporting their whereabouts to a third party. They used jargon he wasn’t familiar with, but he felt he had the gist of most of it. After a bit, he switched off his headphones and simply watched the ground go by underneath the craft.
He’d lost track of time. He was originally looking for a building he could identify, some recognizable structure to give him a perspective on where they were. But between each small gathering of buildings that constituted a town were endless miles of barren terrain. He could feel the heat increase on the wind and he knew it was one last surge before the air started chilling. It wouldn’t be long and the skies would darken. He leaned toward the door and stared outward. With no idea how far they actually had left to go, he decided to close his eyes and pray for sleep.
Simon drew a circle on the map and stared in the general direction of where the truck had come. “It’s out there somewhere. We’re gonna find it.”
The minion he called Squirrel piped in. “You pretty certain on that range?”
Simon nodded. “Their fuel cans are all still full. They have three quarters of a tank left. That pretty much narrows it down to here.”
Squirrel looked at the map, then glanced down the road. “They were headed north on 25. There’s no dried mud on the chassis, so they didn’t come through Cochiti. It’s nearly impassible.” He pulled the map from Simon’s hands and studied it further. “Any place south of there is open possibilities.”
“We’ll take 14 to Cerrillos and work our way west from there.” He inhaled deeply and blew it out. “Do you smell that, Squirrel? Times, they be a changin’.”
Squirrel gave him a confused look. He was certain that Simon was off his rocker most of the time, but he’d kept the crew alive this long. He handed him back the map and yelled to the men, “Prepare for war!”
He watched as they hurriedly gathered weapons and supplies. They packed the saddle bags on their bikes with as much food and weaponry as they would hold.
“Are we coming back? Should we have the women pack up the camp and follow us?”
Simon shrugged. “One camp is as good as any other.” He shot Squirrel a crooked smile. “I reckon if we like their digs better, we can just move in.” He glanced at the families trying to help pack their men for war. “Still, it wouldn’t hurt morale if the men had something warm to come back to camp for.” He gave a curt nod.
Squirrel began shouting orders to break camp and prepare the cages for movement. The cages were four-wheeled vehicles that the families would follow in.
Squirrel swallowed his anger as he looked on. He had a wife once. The ragers took her from him. The few women who survived and gathered into their flock had been doled out to Simon’s lieutenants. Squirrel had been offered one shortly after he came on with the crew, but he wasn’t ready to share his life with somebody else again. He definitely didn’t want a partner given to him like a treat for a dog. If the time came for him to find another partner, he’d choose her himself.
He marched to the converted short bus he had been using as a makeshift home. He began packing his meager belongings and used one of the fuel cans to top off the tank of the bus. Some of the families could use it to follow them.
He started for the door, then paused. He reached above the dr
iver’s seat and pulled the single photograph that was clipped to the visor. It was his wife. The only picture he had left. He rubbed his thumb gently across the side of her cheek, afraid he might scrub her image from the paper. Without a word, he stuffed the photograph into his jacket and zipped the pocket shut.
As soon as his feet hit the dusty ground, he tossed the keys to a passing woman. “The bus is yours.” He walked toward his bike as she began herding kids and supplies into the oven-baked vehicle.
He locked his saddle bags and ensured they were tightly secured. He zipped his jacket and straddled to the worn out Indian. As he fired the engine to life, he remembered when he first bought the bike. Polaris had just purchased the rights to revive the name and start production again. He beat a path to the dealer’s door and plopped his money down a full two years before the first bikes hit the dealerships.
He had enjoyed many a road trip with his wife before the ragers hit. The only thing that brought him more joy than the bike was her…and now she was gone. Since then, the old Chief had been his primary source of transportation and had saved his life more than once.
He pulled the bike out from the middle of camp and parked next to the highway. He shut off the engine and waited for the others in camp to get ready.
He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and knew it had to be Simon. Nobody else would dare.
“Take about six of the men and head toward Santa Ana Pueblo. See what you can see and report back. I’m gonna send Scratch with a handful towards Stanley. We’ll all meet up outside of Albuquerque.”
Squirrel nodded, then pointed to a group of men who were working their way toward the highway. “You’re with me.” He started the engine and eased out onto the asphalt. He glanced back to ensure the group was following, then accelerated.
Although Squirrel had been many things in the real world, he wasn’t looking forward to what they were about to do next. Yes, the world had changed. But he couldn’t pound the idea into Simon’s head that survivors should work together, not battle over resources.
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