Return to Yellowstone

by Heath Stallcup

  He tried to empty his mind and enjoy the ride, but all that he could think of was their group pillaging and destroying what somebody else had built.

  Maybe it was time he pointed the Indian west…just keep traveling until there was nothing but open ocean before him. He knew he could pull it off.

  He could make it.

  But then what? Fight to scratch out a survival on one of the most densely populated coastlines? Well, previously most populated. Today, perhaps not so much. At least, not with people. Ragers, for sure, but definitely not people. The West Coast was the first to get hit hard and the news seemed to take great joy in showing all of the people in California being attacked by their friends and neighbors. It seemed to take a few days before the news agencies realized, this wasn’t some huge joke. By the time they took the reports seriously, it was too late. The virus had spread and was quickly becoming a global phenomenon.

  Squirrel’s mind wandered until the sign for Rio Rancho caught his attention. He took a hard right and headed toward uncertainty. The odds were slim that the smoke had come from this far away, and even slimmer he’d discover the source, but it got him away from the others and gave him a chance to feel the road beneath him, away from the pressures of being trapped in a group of thugs and criminals.

  Away from being a trusted and high-ranking member of the thugs and criminals.

  He sighed heavily as he saw the outskirts of town appear before him. “City of Vision, huh?”

  He slowed the bike and tried to take in the remains of Rio Rancho. At first glance, it was just another sleepy desert town. Adobe buildings everywhere. Trash and debris scattered across yards and blowing across the road in front of him.

  “This town is a lot bigger than I thought it would be,” he muttered as he continued driving.

  He thought he caught the faint scent of smoke and slowed the bike. He glanced from side to side, hoping to see something that pointed out the source. It didn’t smell like a campfire. It was different…almost chemical. For a moment, his mind returned to when he was a rookie with the Sheriff’s Department. He had been called out to work a traffic accident with the municipal police. One of the cars had caught fire and…the small whiffs of smoke that he caught reminded him of that.

  “Somebody burn a tire?” He goosed the bike and continued down the main highway that dissected the town. He scanned for any signs of smoke or fire. Nothing stood out, although there appeared to be a haze hanging over the city.

  He pulled to the side of the road and shut the engine off. He stepped off the bike and looked around. He licked his finger and held it in the air. There wasn’t a breeze to be found. If the fire had occurred here, it would stand to reason that the haze was the result.

  But where?

  The mountains that bordered the town didn’t appear that far away, but he knew that looks were deceiving. He would no sooner be able to locate the source of the fire from a mountain vantage point as he would if he simply drove street by street.

  He groaned to himself and mounted his bike again. “Street by street it is then.” He fired the Indian up again and pulled out slowly, sniffing the air as he rode.

  Vivian held back the urge to vomit. The orderly waited patiently behind her while she reviewed the video stream herself.

  “There’s more, ma’am, but…I think you can see for yourself what happened.”

  She swallowed hard and closed the lid on the laptop. “Tell the lab members to stand down from Level Three Protocols.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The orderly reached for the laptop and she held her arm out to stop him.

  “No, I’m going to hold on to this for a while longer.”

  “Ma’am?”

  “I think we need to reiterate to those working in the lab the dangers of…of our subjects.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The orderly stepped away and Vivian watched him enter the lab. A moment later the personnel under her command began stripping the bright yellow rubber suits off.

  She sat back in her chair and tried not to remember what her eyes had seen. The orderly had removed the gene therapy subject and placed her in the holding ward. While there, he took it upon himself to inject the subject with a high dose of anesthesia and then decided to have carnal relations with the test subject.

  During the act, the test subject awoke, her high metabolism having burned through the anesthesia. She then began thrashing, and in his haste to climb off her, she was able to drag a nail across his midsection.

  “Of all the ways to get infected!” She threw a coffee cup across the room and took little satisfaction in it shattering.

  She stood and peeled the rest of the chicken suit from her form, then marched into the lab. She tried to take a moment to calm down and failed miserably.

  After a stern lecture, it was decided that no one person would be allowed to be alone with any of the test subjects. Regardless of intent, if anybody accidentally became exposed, there needed to be somebody on hand to report it to the others.

  She couldn’t understand how anybody could be so depraved and in the very next minute walk back into their work station as though nothing had happened. She knew the infected operated almost entirely from the ID, or possibly the reptilian portion of the brain, but an uninfected human? The depths that humanity could stoop still amazed her.

  Charles had to add his two cents. “Seriously, Vivian. We’re all adults here. We’ve worked unsupervised for so—”

  “This is nonnegotiable. If for no other reason, to protect the rest of us.” She took a deep breath and continued, “I have no doubts that the researchers in this group are more than professional. And I don’t believe that all of our orderlies or interns are capable of such…depravity. However, and more importantly, in the event of an accidental exposure, we have to have a secondary person available who can inform the rest of us and possibly isolate the infected before it can spread.”

  “I can’t believe this should apply to all of us, though.” Charles countered.

  “It does, and it will.” She squared her shoulders and looked each of them in the eye as she spoke. “You saw how quickly this spread in the world. Now imagine if it broke out here. On a ship this small? There would be no survivors.”

  Charles swallowed his retort and nodded. “Point taken.”

  The door burst open and Jason stepped in, eyes wide. “Doc! You need to check on Bren. Something ain’t right.”

  Henry pushed at the burned out Civic, then surrendered. “Why do we have to do this?”

  Wally gave him a duh stare. “Why do you think? She holds us responsible for everything that happened last night.”

  Henry sighed and leaned against the still-smoldering remains. “This thing ain’t gonna roll. We’re gonna have to tow it.”

  Wally kicked at the wheels, steel wire wrapped around each from the remains of the tires. “We’re gonna need something big if we’re pushing this thing. I think it even melted some of the asphalt under it.”

  “Whodathunk that such a little car could leave such a huge mess.” He sighed, then pushed off the blackened hulk. “I’ll get the truck.”

  “You better make sure Candy gives her okay.”

  Henry turned and gave him a dirty look. “She said to clear the road. We need the truck to haul this junker off. I’m sure she’ll understand.”

  “Last time you drove the truck you dented the doors to the warehouse.” Wally was beginning to enjoy busting Henry’s nuts.

  “Trying to escape from the Zulus!” He paused and gave Wally a smirk. “I guess I should have just kicked you out of the cab about a block away, so they’d have a snack and leave the rest of us alone.”

  “Ha-ha-ha. You’re not funny.”

  “Shut up and get the gate, will ya?” Henry pushed the other side of the gate open, then climbed aboard the large truck. He started the engine and pulled it carefully past the dead Honda. He backed it up slowly while Wally directed him back.

  Once in position, the two men connected a chain to
the remains of the Honda and pulled the slack out of the chain.

  “You gonna steer the Honda?” Henry asked.

  “You wrecked it. You steer it and I’ll drive the truck.”

  “I didn’t wreck it! Candy did.”

  Wally shot him a crooked grin. “You gonna try to make her steer it then?”

  “Shut up and get in the cab. With any luck the steering wheel is locked, and we can just drag the damned thing down the road and dump it in an empty lot or something.”

  Wally shook his head as he climbed up into the cab. “I’ll watch this side.”

  “Yeah and I’ll watch this one.” He put the truck into gear and let the clutch out slowly. It began rolling forward with such ease that he feared the chain had come loose. He was about to stop and check when the little Honda eased into view of his side mirror.

  “Keep an eye open for a good place to dump her.” Henry continued to ease the truck down the road, praying that the bare wheels didn’t destroy the pavement as the wheels tried to bite into the asphalt.

  “Up there.” Wally pointed to an abandoned gas station. “There’s enough clearance we should be able to pull under the cover and drop it right by the pumps.”

  Henry nodded. He knew for a fact they had already siphoned almost all of the fuel from the underground tanks. The Civic wouldn’t hinder them from pumping what little remained since the tank accesses were on the other side of the building.

  He pulled the truck across the concrete parking area and watched the little Honda hop up and over the curb, tugging slightly as it skewed closer to the pumps. He continued pulling the burned-out car until it sat almost directly in front of the pumps, then slowly backed the truck up.

  “Let’s grab the chain and get back before any of the Zulus decide to see what the fuss is about.” Henry slid from the cab and began unhooking the chain.

  Wally reached for his arm and stopped him. “Do you hear that?”

  Henry gave him a confused look. “Hear what?”

  “It sounds like an engine.” He leaned from behind the truck and stared down the road. “Like a motorcycle. Maybe a Harley?”

  Henry shook his head until the distinctive roar of a V-Twin engine could be heard echoing through the streets.

  He turned and gave Wally a wide-eyed stare. “You think it’s the marauders?”

  Wally shrugged. “I only hear one.”

  Henry hurriedly wrapped the chain into a loop and tossed it into the back of the truck. “We need to get the hell out of here.” He ran for the cab and climbed up into the seat.

  Wally reached for his hand just as he grabbed the keys. “There!”

  The pair stared down the street and saw a lone rider slowly approaching, his head slowly turning, scanning the area.

  “Fuck me.” Henry bent low in the cab and reached to pull Wally down beside him. “Maybe if he doesn’t see us, he’ll think the truck is abandoned.”

  Wally was practically in the floor of the truck as the motorcycle slowed, the driver revving the engine as he pulled into the gas station.

  “Tell me he didn’t see us.” Henry whispered.

  Wally’s eyes were wide, but he shook his head. His hand slowly reached up and pushed the lock button on the doors just as the engine on the motorcycle died.

  The two men sat in the cab of the truck and realized just how warm it got in the early mornings of New Mexico when locked in a sealed truck with the windows rolled up.

  Henry waited a few moments, then slowly peered over the steering wheel. He saw the lone biker as he sifted through things in the gas station. He went through the repair shop and lifted a couple of gas cans, shook them, then tossed them aside.

  “I think he’s looking for fuel,” Henry whispered.

  Wally’s eyes widened. “You don’t think he’d try to siphon ours, do you?”

  Henry gave him a duh stare. “This is diesel. It won’t work in his Harley.”

  Wally groaned and tried to melt his large form farther into the floorboards of truck. “I hope he knows this is a diesel.”

  Henry peered over the steering wheel again and watched as the man walked past the truck. A moment later he heard the sounds of somebody trying the lever on the fuel pump. He smiled to himself. Even if there was gas, you’d need electricity to run the pump. This biker must be stupid.

  He heard the side tank of the truck’s fuel tank being messed with and he could imagine the biker unscrewing the cap and sniffing the fuel. ‘Nope, not it.’ Then moving on.

  Henry jumped as a knock on the window above him snapped him from his thoughts and Wally gave a sharp shriek.

  “Dude. You got any gas?”

  Henry leaned up slowly and gave him a frightened smile. He shook his head rapidly. “Nope. Sorry. Only diesel.”

  The wild-looking biker was unshaven and his hair looked like he’d been through a wind tunnel. The man pulled his sunglasses down and nodded to Wally. “Why don’t you two step out.”

  “No thanks. We’re good,” Henry replied and gave him a quick wave. He saw the huge barrel of the 10mm pistol flash in the window and nearly wet himself. “Oh! Sorry…I didn’t hear you say please.”

  The biker smiled and leaned closer to the window. “Please…step down from there.”

  Henry swallowed hard and nodded, his hand reaching for the door latch.

  Chapter 16

  “You two can catch up in the truck.” Hollis lowered his face to peer over his sunglasses. “You do intend to go along, don’t you?”

  Buck shrugged. “Nothing better to do.” He followed Hatcher, who climbed into the rear of the Humvee. Buck climbed in the other side and the group was moving again, slowly inching their way up the mountain.

  “How did you survive out here, kis?” Hatcher was turned and facing him as they travelled.

  Buck shook his head slowly. “The current carried me quite a ways down the mountain, but I found myself on the bank when the volcano blew the top off the mountain. The sky was dark for days and lucky for me, most of the big chunks were closer to the blast.”

  “It was a bomb, not the volcano,” Hatcher corrected.

  Buck gave him a wide-eyed stare. “That must have been one hell of a bomb.” The military men in the truck added nothing so he continued. “Anyway, I learned quickly how to blend in. I covered myself with mud and leaves, used the trees for cover. I made my way back to the RV but…it was pretty much useless.” He shuddered involuntarily at the reminder of finding his sister dead in the back. “I couldn’t find my dad. Somebody shot my sister. I knew I was alone and the exits were blocked by some pretty big rocks.”

  “Why in the hell did you stay here?” Hatcher asked, still trying to wrap his mind around the teenager surviving these long weeks alone.

  “I kept thinking that somebody would have to come back. I mean, eventually.” He shrugged and gave Hatcher a forlorn smile. “I really thought somebody would have to collect the dead. That they’d come here to figure out what the hell happened.”

  “So you’ve been waiting this whole time?”

  “Surviving.” Buck’s voice was barely a whisper. “I learned to trap small animals. I’ve watched the zombies break into small groups. They really have a pack mentality. Not unlike the wolves.”

  Hollis turned around in the front seat to eye him. “So, there’s a pack leader?”

  Buck nodded. “Oh, yeah. And every once in a while, two packs will butt heads and the alphas will go at it. Whoever wins gets the other guy’s pack.”

  “And the other alpha?” Hollis asked.

  “They usually eat whatever is left of him.” Buck deadpanned.

  “They’re cannibals?” Hatcher asked.

  Buck nodded. “They are now. Not at first. But then they hunted this area almost completely out of wildlife.”

  Hatcher watched him and noted how thin the boy was. His arms look like leather wrapped over sinew and muscle. He reached into his satchel and pulled out the remains of the MRE and handed it to Buck.
/>   “Thanks.” Buck ripped into the plastic packages and inhaled the food, barely chewing before swallowing.

  “Slow down, buddy. This isn’t a race.” Hatcher gave him a crooked smile.

  “Sorry.” Buck wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m so used to just swallowing it and praying it stays down. You have to be on guard all of the time out there.”

  “Where have you been staying, kid?” Hollis asked.

  “Here and there. Wherever seemed safe at the time.” His eyes became distant as he recalled the first nights alone. “I tried staying in the RV. The smell was horrendous, even after I buried Keri.” He swallowed hard and seemed to snap back to the present. “I found a couple of different rock outcrops that I could fit under. I used what little leaves I could scrounge to insulate me from the ground and used them to cover with so I wouldn’t be seen.” He shrugged. “A lot of times I cinched myself as high into a tree as I could and slept there. Usually during the day, though. Nights are when they’re most active.”

  Hatcher opened his mouth to ask another question when Buck leaned forward and raised his voice. “So why are you guys here?” His gaze bounced from Hollis to Hatcher then back again.

  Hatcher answered, “They’re working on a cure. The virus that spread out has mutated and they need the original strain.”

  Buck gave him a confused stare. “Cure?” He thought of his mom, Keri…could they have maybe been saved?

  Hollis kept his face forward, but raised his voice to be heard over the big diesel engine. “Yeah, kid. This virus went global. Took out the majority of the people on the planet. We’re hoping to save what’s left.”

  “What’s left? So, you’re not trying to cure those who are already infected?”

  Hollis shrugged. “If we find a cure for them, yay. If not, we’re definitely trying to save who’s left.”