Plague War: Outbreak

by Alister Hodge

  “You can’t get the car up there Brad, since that tremor a while back. You gonna need a Jeep.”

  “I’ll get the four-by-four and then have a look. I want you to lock up and stay safe. If you get any problems use the CB. Someone will come. I’d best get off. Morning Mrs Burke, Ben.”

  Eastman got back into the car and drove towards town. It was clear that Erin had been through an unpleasant experience and had been very lucky. Still, looking odd was hardly a felony, and in any case, that accounted for half the town. He’d need the four-by-four to meet up with Bill Merka, from the Parks Department. There’d been a lot of stolen cars dumped near the Lloyds’ farm recently. Eastman suspected the Clayton brothers, but he had no proof. His list was getting longer.

  ****

  Pulling up to the station house, Eastman could see Bill Merka standing by his Jeep. Eastman stopped alongside him, got out and walked over.

  “You ready for some work then Bill?”

  Dressed in his brown Parks uniform, Bill Merka was in his mid-forties. He’d spent nearly all his life working for the parks.

  “What kept you Brad? I almost went without you.”

  “I’ve been up at the Burkes’ place. Erin had a scare, some no-goods near the old airbase. I want to take a look around there later.”

  “Fine by me.”

  “Bill, I reckon we’ll swing by the Lloyds’ farm. A dollar to a dime says we gonna find something there. Then we’ll head up to the Willis’ farm. Maybe we’ll run into George Lee.”

  “He’s hunted those woods a long time, huh?”

  “He was born in those woods – hell, he’s part bloodhound.”

  Lee worked as a guide during the hunting season. Hardly an ecologist, he just didn’t like folk ‘messing up’ his beloved woods.

  “I spoke to Red Cloud yesterday, said he’d seen the Clayton boys up at the Lloyds’ place. When they saw him, they just took off.”

  “Not much gets past that Indian. Hey by the way, when’s that comet showing up?”

  “Oh, don’t you start. Mrs Peterson reckons it’s gonna bring us all doom.”

  “Bill, you should be used to all that small town bull by now. You’ve lived here five years.”

  “Yeah, right. I asked Red Cloud to the tower for a look. You come too, if you want?”

  “Appreciate that. May well do, if I can figure out all this crazy stuff,” pondered Eastman.

  “Okay, so what’s the low down on this black-out thing Brad?”

  “Bill, if I had me a dollar for every time I been asked that today, I could take the day off. Truth is, I don’t know.”

  “Officially maybe, but you can tell me, come on.”

  “Saddle up.” Eastman made time for Merka. That didn’t happen with everyone, but he wasn’t in the mood to discuss the situation further.

  Both men got into their vehicles and drove off. The truth was that Eastman had no more idea than anybody else and that worried the hell out of him.

  ****

  The men were driving towards the Willis’ farm when they came across George Lee at Larson’s Creek. Stepping forward he motioned them to stop. Pulling off the road both vehicles parked up on the grassy verge. The sound of the creek could be heard trickling by as Eastman cut his engine. George Lee stood with the peak of his Marine fatigue cap pulled tightly over his eyes. Eastman could still make out his drooping moustache and goatee beard. The bulky lumberjack shirt made him look a lot bigger than he was; in his arms he cradled his Remington hunting rifle. Eastman got out of his four-by-four and walked over to greet Lee.

  “Heat starting up, George.”

  “Ain’t so bad in the trees. I got some news for you.”

  “More cars? We just come by Lloyd’s farm, found a stripped pick up over there.”

  “Nope. I heard some shots over at Dawson’s Pool yesterday. I found some .38 calibre shell cases. Some sort of tent was set up, but they’s all gone now.”

  “Any ideas where?”

  “I done see some hikers this morning, boy and girl headed over to Highway l04. Could be the same folks?”

  Eastman knew that Armstrong was a good ten miles from that point and he also knew the area was a maze. City folk were always getting lost there and with the heat set to soar, they could be in serious trouble.

  “Obliged to you George, I’d best get over there and take a look.”

  Lee melted back into the woods and Eastman and Merka drove off.

  Lee was a troubled man. It wasn’t just the dumpsters spoiling the land, Eastman and Merka would put a stop to all that. This was way more serious. He hated Wal-Mart –‘Yes Sir, no Sir, that’s in aisle four Ma’am’ – it wasn’t right for him. It wasn’t man’s work. What the hell did any of them know about hunting and tracking? ‘Jack’ was the short answer to that one. No, the worst thing, the thing he hated the most was that he didn’t have any options. When the hunting season finished so did the money. He shook his head in frustration. Then he saw tracks just in front of him. Heavy military boot prints, four, maybe even five guys had come this way in the last few days he reckoned. Whatever. He wasn’t looking for dumb grunts; he was looking for game. His keen senses were alert for any sound or movement but… nothing. For the last few days it had been the same. Nothing. It was as if all the animals had left the woods. In his long experience, that only happened if something bad was going down.

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