Slug nodded rapidly and tried to crab walk away from him. He got to his feet slowly and stared at his bike. “Fuck me, man. You trashed my ride.”
“It was a piece of shit before you wrecked it.” Squirrel straddled his Indian and kicked it off. “You best try to get her started. That crowd of ragers are just over that hill.”
Slug lifted the wrecked Harley and began checking it. He closed his eyes and prayed as he tried to start it.
Squirrel didn’t wait to see if it would run again. He kicked the bike into gear and pulled away, leaving Slug to his own devices.
Jason chewed nervously at his thumbnail while Vivian LaRue scanned the lab report. “As we suspected, you’re not infected.” She closed the folder and stared at him. “Neither are you immune.”
“Meaning?”
She shrugged. “You’ve been lucky as heck that you haven’t contracted the virus from your girlfriend.” She stood and dropped the lab report on her desk.
“Wait, so you mean…she could give it to me?”
Vivian turned and stared at him as though he were daft. “Of course. I remember telling you that she’s a carrier. We’ll have to use the same precautions in dealing with her as we would with any of the infected that had you so worried.”
Jason came to his feet. “Now hold on just a goddam second. Surely you don’t mean to keep her locked up like those other people?” He was practically yelling as he glared at her.
“Of course not. She’s completely lucid. And from what we can tell, she’s not likely to become asymptomatic.”
Jason gave her a confused stare. “What do you mean?”
Vivian sighed and set down her work in order to give him her full attention. “Mr. Anderson, it’s really quite simple. As long as she continues to behave like a normal person, she shall be treated as a normal person. However, we are aware she carries the virus in her system, so it is possible, however improbable, she could become symptomatic. In that case, she will be treated as any other infected person.”
Jason’s eyes darted side to side as he took in her words. “So, if she starts to act like the crazies, then she’ll be caged like one?”
Vivian sighed again. “Yes, that is a very simplistic way of putting it, but you are correct.”
“That ain’t right, doc. You know she isn’t infected.”
“Ah, but she is. She just isn’t reacting the same way you or I would if we were to become infected.” She took a deep breath and prepared for a tirade.
Jason slowly nodded. “So, as long as she keeps acting normal, she’s good, right?”
“Precisely!” She shot him a beaming smile. “I’m so glad you understand.”
Jason nodded slowly as he processed everything. Finally, he turned and gave her a solemn look. “What do you think the odds are she’ll stay normal?”
Vivian wasn’t expecting that question. “Honestly, Mr. Anderson, I think her odds are quite good. I know I explained to you about the different versions of the virus. How it mutated?” He nodded. “If we limit her interactions with others, keep her contained within the ship and ensure she doesn’t come into contact with people who are out and about, then we can safely assume she won’t be exposed to other versions of the virus. Then it’s safe to assume that her chances of becoming symptomatic are also limited.”
“Keep her locked up?”
She shook her head. “Not exactly. Just limit her exposure to others.” She pointed to the people coming and going outside her office. “Some of the people who work on this ship go to shore from time to time. With the different versions of the mutated virus out there, there is a slight possibility one of them could bring it back here. I’m not saying that her immune system wouldn’t also fight it off, or even allow her to be a carrier of the mutated virus, but there’s always the possibility that a different form would actually infect her and she could…turn.”
“How would they bring it back if they aren’t bitten?” He could feel his insides twisting at the possibility they could be trapped on a ship with infected people running about.
“The virus was originally made airborne. Those who were infected by the airborne version spread it by scratches or bites.” She shrugged. “There’s always the possibility that another mutated form might become viable under those same conditions.”
“So it could go airborne again?” He could feel his mouth go dry as he spoke.
She nodded slowly. “It’s a possibility.” She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “It’s not probable, but it is possible.”
He felt his legs go out from under him. “So then, it wouldn’t just be her…but all of us.”
She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Exactly.”
Candy shook her head, her body stiff. “I don’t like it. Not one bit.” Her eyes met the two men confronting her. “It’s too risky.”
Wally groaned and turned away, but Henry doubled down. “Candy, if we don’t do something, and quick, there won’t be anybody left standing to defend us from the nomads that Hatch ran into.”
“That’s assuming they even come this way,” Wally interjected. “We can’t know what their intentions are. Hell, they could be planted out there and just attacking anybody who traveled that certain road.”
“Yeah, like the old highwaymen,” Henry added.
Candy groaned. She knew they were right. Their supplies were running dangerously low and there were whole families in their little group that depended on the supplies gathered locally.
She stepped away and stared across the neighborhoods separating them from the grocery store. “Do you really think it’s intact?”
Henry nodded. “I’ve been watching it for over a week now. Nobody comes or goes. The Zulus aren’t anywhere near it, and the front is all intact.” He placed a hand on her shoulder to drive home their desperation. “If we don’t do something soon, Hatch is going to come home to find a bunch of corpses.”
She groaned and tossed her hands in the air. “Dammit, I hate to say it, but you’re probably right.” She paced in a tight circle and argued with herself. When she finally stopped, she spun and faced the two men. “How quickly can you do this?”
“Let us use the two big trucks and give us everybody who can carry a weapon.” Henry was fighting the smile that tried to form as he spoke. “We put our best shooters on lookout and anybody who’s capable of snatching and grabbing loads the trucks with anything viable. Canned goods, bagged goods, paper stuff…”
“Toilet paper, tampons, even candy!” Wally added. “You know we need everything.”
Slowly, she nodded. “Fine. Make it happen. Henry, you’re in charge of this shit storm.” She tapped the man’s chest as she spoke. “If this goes to hell…”
“It won’t. We won’t let it.” He failed at keeping the smile from his face. “We’ll be in and out in a matter of minutes.”
“I hope I don’t regret this.” She handed him back the binoculars and headed to the roof access.
Chapter 10
Hatcher stared at the passing land through the window the entire way to the park. Somehow feeling he could automatically recognize the park lands when they approached, he was surprised when the craft began its descent.
Captain Hollis came over the coms and snapped him from his confusion. “Pilots claim there are numerous heat signatures in the LZ, but they appear too small to be humanoid.” He shot Hatcher a sly grin. “Considering the thickness of the canopy in spots, I’m sure you’d agree we could still have unwelcomed company at any moment.”
“Agreed.” Hatcher turned back to the window and saw dust and debris kicking up as the craft settled. When the doors opened, he hit the ground and brought the barrel of the M4 carbine to his eye. He dropped low and covered the rear of the craft while the others disembarked and took up defensive positions.
He never heard Hollis slap the side of the craft, but he noticed when the rotors increased speed and the gust of wind before it lifted off again.
Once the chopper was cl
ear, Hatcher turned slowly and scanned the area. He recognized the terrain almost immediately and instantly had his bearings. Hollis approached as the defensive perimeter broke up and the men began gathering gear, one man covering each compass point as the others prepared for the march.
“The Visitor’s Center is just beyond that stand of trees.”
Hollis nodded. “Yeah, Colonel Vickers gave us a detailed-”
“Vickers?” Daniel stiffened and glared at the man. “He’s still alive?”
Hollis turned slowly and faced him. “You know the colonel?”
Daniel spat and paced in a circle. “If I’d known Vickers had anything to do with this I’d have told you all to go pound sand.” His teeth were clenched tight and his face was turning a nice shade of red.
Hollis stood and held his hands up, attempting to placate the ex-ranger. “Easy, buddy. Vickers just gave us what few details he had on this place.”
Hatcher spun on him. “But you work with him, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah. Sort of. I work more for the lab guys, but Vickers is in my chain of command.”
“Fucking great.” Hatcher pointed toward the center. “You do realize he’s the reason this shit storm went global, don’t you?”
Hollis’ face screwed up with confusion. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, so the great colonel didn’t tell you, did he?” Hatcher snorted with derision. “Why the hell should he. He only caused the greatest holocaust in the history of mankind.”
“Come again? You’re not making any sense.”
“Vickers is the one that dropped the damned bomb! The same bomb that sent the virus into the atmosphere.” He stared at the man, waiting for the light to come on. “Yes, this was ground zero for the virus, but there were only a few handfuls of people infected. Maybe a couple hundred at most.”
“I’m still not following you…”
Hatcher groaned and dropped to a squat, pressing against his temples to try to contain his anger. “Look, the virus erupted here and people were infected. But instead of dealing with it in another way, Vickers decided to drop a damned bomb on the source. It was a big enough bomb to blow the top of the damned mountain off and sent who knows how many tons of that virus into the upper atmosphere. If he’d played by the rules, this could have been contained and the infected rate would be a tiny percentage of the population. Now it’s…what…85…90 percent of the entire human population is either dead or infected, right?”
“We can’t really get a good estimate, but…that’s probably close.” Hollis exhaled hard as he tried to take in everything Hatcher told him.
“It was Vickers who decided to override the Pentagon and drop a damned mini-nuke out here.” He worked up a mouthful of dust-filled spit and spat it on the ground. “I knew I should have killed him when I had the chance.”
“Wait…you…I mean, he—”
“It’s a long fucking story, cap. You sure you want to hear it all?”
Hollis reached a hand out to help Hatcher to his feet. “Every word, if you don’t mind. We’ve got a pretty good hike ahead of us.”
Hatcher took his hand and got to his feet. “They bailed so fast, there should be a couple of five-tons and a handful of Humvees on the other side of the center. That is, if they’ll still start after sitting out here for months.”
Hollis keyed his coms. “Pack out to the Visitors Center. Set up a forward command post and recon the area for old military vehicles. This job might have just gotten easier.” He turned back to Hatcher. “Now, you were saying?”
Bren sat quietly while they ran her blood through a machine. She sipped at a flat soda and ignored the cookies they set out for her.
“Is this really necessary?” Jason asked.
Dr. LaRue nodded. “We’re just filtering her blood and then pumping it back into her.”
“You’re filtering out the virus?” Bren asked as she set the soda down.
“No, we’re filtering for specific types of cells so we can try to culture them with monoclonal antibody cells.” She turned and gave her a soft smile. Noting the look of confusion, she took a deep breath and tried to explain. “In order for a vaccine to work, we have to first strip the antigens from the virus and duplicate them, preferably in a weakened or dead form. Vaccines containing these antigens are then introduced into the body, stimulating the immune system response by instructing specific cells to produce antibodies. Then those antibodies are produced to fight the weakened or dead viruses in the vaccine. The immune system gets ready to destroy the real, much stronger viruses in the future. When new antigens enter the body, white blood cells gobble them up and process the information contained in the antigens so that an immune system response can be mobilized.”
Bren looked to Jason who shrugged. “They’re taking stuff out of your blood to try and make a cure.”
She nodded. “Okay.” She stared at the machine as it continued to cycle. “Are you going to take all of my blood?”
Dr. LaRue shook her head. “No, dear. We’re just running some of it through the filters and then pumping it back into you.” She patted her arm gently. “You won’t miss what we take out, I promise.”
The machine gave a tone and Dr. LaRue turned it off. She disconnected the IV tubes and taped a cotton ball to Bren’s arm. “There ya go. We’re all done.”
“For now.” Jason added.
“Right. For now.” She helped Bren up from the chair and handed her the soda and cookies. “You should have at least a few days before we’ll need you again.”
Bren nodded a thanks and Jason escorted her back to their room. When the door was safely shut, he sat her down and lowered his voice to a whisper. “How do you really feel?”
“I think the soda is flat. It’s making me nauseous.” She dropped the cookies into the trash. “Too much sugar.”
“I mean, do you feel like you?”
She turned surprised eyes to him. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He fell into the chair across from her and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Bren. I just…I don’t trust them.”
“But you said we were safer here than out there.” Her voice had an edge of concern and Jason quickly took her hand.
“We are. I mean, just look around. We’re in the middle of the ocean and we have a roof over our heads, people with guns to protect us, and three meals a day.” He patted her hand. “We’re safer than out there, but…I still worry that something’s up.”
“Because nobody does nothing for nobody unless there’s something in it for them.” She repeated his words to him and he nodded.
“Yeah.” He sat back in the chair and glanced to the door. “I mean, yeah, they want your blood to try to make a cure. But what happens if they can’t? Will they dump us overboard? Ship us back to the shore to deal with the crazies? Send us back to Hatcher’s compound?” He threw his hands into the air.
“Surely not.” Her face grew concerned as she spoke. “They are the government, right? They can’t just dump us overboard if they think we’re no good to them. Can they?”
“The nine most dangerous words in the English language are, ‘We’re from the government and we’re here to help.’”
“Like death and taxes?”
Jason snorted a quick laugh. “Yeah, sweetie, something like that.”
Squirrel pulled into the lot of a small grocery store and shut off his engine. He could hear Slug approaching and assumed he got the old Harley to kick off. He shot a glance in the direction of the approaching bike and knew that Slug wasn’t happy.
He waited until the man pulled in next to him. “Why don’t you leave it idling and keep watch out here. I’ll go in and check it out. If there’s anything in there worth scrounging, I’ll come back for ya.”
Slug said nothing, but shifted his bike into neutral. He sat atop the scraped-up motorcycle and stared straight ahead. He took that as an ‘Okay, buddy, sounds good.’
Squirrel pulled his gun and approached the broken glass doors of the store.
He couldn’t hear anything inside, but the smell was horrible. He was certain something lay dead on the floor and made a mental note to watch each step. The last thing he needed was to slip on somebody’s spleen and do a face plant into a liquefied corpse.
He pulled his sunglasses off and hung them from his jacket. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but he could make out aisles filled with rotting and destroyed foodstuffs.
He took a deep breath and stepped farther inside. The smell hit him like a wall and he nearly gagged. He forced himself to breathe through his mouth and swore he could taste the funk that hung in the air.
The buzz of flies was heavy and once his eyes adjusted further to the darkness, it appeared as though every inch of the rear of the store was covered in moving blackness. He assumed it was flies. He prayed it was just flies.
For a moment his mind brought Dodger to his thoughts and he wanted to chuckle at the German Shepherd. He would snap at anything flying in the air. They used to joke that to him, they were air raisins.
That stupid dog would have had a good time in here.
He soon found the source of the smell. The meat counter had still been partially stocked, and now with the power off and the ungodly heat, everything was a wriggling mass of maggots. He instinctively covered his mouth with his hand to prevent flies from inspecting his oral cavity and worked toward the other side of the store.
He scanned row after row of destroyed goods, none of it salvageable. He glanced at the cooler doors and saw that anything bottled had already been pilfered.
“Screw this,” he muttered to himself as he made his way back to the front doors.
As soon as he was back in fresh air he took a deep breath and nearly vomited. The smell had left a coating in his mouth and he could taste whatever the funk was. He bent over and spit a long string of saliva out while fighting the urge to dump the peaches he had eaten earlier.
“There’s nothing in there but nasty.” He practically staggered out to his bike and barely noticed Slug pointing ahead of them. This time Squirrel caught the flash of light and squinted against the brightness. He pulled his sunglasses back on and looked back at the source of the flashes.
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