Fight for Life and Death (Apocalypse Paused Book 1)

by Michael Todd

  She was in the process of stuffing their gear back into her large pack and cleaning and reloading both her pistol and the single M-nine-two rifle they’d brought from the ATV. She finished quickly enough.

  “Watch the stuff,” she said, gestured sharply to the guns and the pack, and excused herself to the ladies’ room, wherever that might be.

  “Will do,” he promised. The temperature had already begun to rise. It would be a brutally hot, steamy day again. He checked the pack and found three full canteens of water. Would that be enough?

  Kemp returned after a couple of minutes. She looked at him, her fists on her hips. “All right,” she said, “it’s up to you if you want to turn around. I can give you half of one of the remaining MRE’s for breakfast and one canteen of water, which will at least get you out of the Zoo. I’m pressing on with the mission. You won’t change my mind.” Her demeanor had softened towards him, but her eyes still carried that iciness. It was possible she’d forgotten how to be open in the first place.

  “No.” Chris shook his head.

  She cocked an eyebrow.

  “I’m going with you,” he continued. “There would be no point in going back. We’re deep enough into the Zoo by now that I’d have to go through all kinds of death traps to escape, and one guy without military training stands a lot less chance than two people together, especially when one of them does have the training.”

  “That’s true,” she admitted. She nodded toward him.

  “Although…” Chris paused. “I did kill one of those locust things last night.”

  “What?” she scoffed, as she produced an MRE and opened it. “I would have heard that. And we weren’t down any ammo from yesterday evening.”

  “Well, that’s because I didn’t have a gun with me,” said Chris.

  She looked up from the MRE with her piercing blues. “You’re saying you killed it with your bare hands,” she stated flatly.

  “Yup,” he replied simply. He tried not to smirk too much. “I dodged and let it ram into a tree. Then I broke its arm and basically kicked it to death against the tree. So it is possible to fight them one-on-one if you have the training.”

  The lieutenant snorted. “Well, Dr. Lin, if that’s true, then I underestimated you,” she replied. She paused, her jaw tensed, and she swallowed. Finally, she said, “Thank you, for wanting to help me.”

  “You’re welcome,” Chris said. “But it’s not really for you. It’s for everyone.” She didn’t interrupt him except to hand him a little food, which he accepted. “It’s because this goop, this plant, whatever it is exactly, is the Armor of God. It’s something we have to get and make use of. I always wanted to help people, too. That’s why I became a biologist, to learn about life itself and how it works.” He munched the rations and found himself longing for his mother’s pot stickers. “Even when I finally had the money, time, and elbow room to start studying martial arts, it wasn’t so much to feel like a badass as because I thought it might come in handy to help someone.” He chuckled. “I guess I always wanted to be the hero. I know that’s silly, but there it is.”

  She smirked. “Okay then, Mr. Hero. The bio-domes are that way.” She gestured toward the thicker part of the forest. “Let’s move out.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The landscape was changing.

  “We’re deep in by now,” Kemp said. She led the way but seemed to have the ability to project her voice behind her without raising it much. A doctor, soldier, and now a ventriloquist. Incredible. They both knew they weren’t alone in the forest. “It shouldn’t be much farther to the bio-domes. Still, even a few miles becomes longer in the jungle or the woods. There’s more to climb over, cut through, or weave around.”

  “That’s for sure,” Chris panted. The elevation had risen after they’d left their camp in the morning. It made no sense, given that the valley in which the Zoo was located seemed to be flat, yet now, they climbed uphill. The trees were even denser, and he imagined their roots somehow twining together underground, working as a unit to raise up the earth itself. Why, though?

  A possibility struck him then as he thought he heard the faint rush of water and remembered the little stream he’d seen last night. Liquids flowed downhill. The water that the Zoo generated could be sent outwards to pre-fertilize the surrounding landscape or contaminate it with AG. Was this place really that intelligent?

  “It’s fantastical, though,” the scientist went on, “the way the plants all seem to work together. This honestly might be the most—” He struggled to find the right words to explain it to a non-biologist. “Balanced ecosystem I’ve ever come across.”

  “Oh,” said Kemp. She was back into gruff-and-practical mode and probably not interested in his intellectual speculations.

  He continued anyway for the sake of something to talk about. “Whatever sapient race created this stuff, the goop,” he mused, “they don’t seem to have created it for our benefit. But I think we can learn something from them. If there were a way to study the Zoo safely, I wonder if we could use it to create a discipline of ‘ecosystem planning,’ sort of like we already have urban planning, if that makes sense.”

  “It does,” she said, “but plans tend to go FUBAR quickly once reality hits.”

  True that. To some extent, the human species would always have to follow Jackie’s example and improvise, probably putting themselves in ridiculous danger in the process just like Mr. Chan. As a scientist, though, he couldn’t help getting excited by the thought of a perfect system.

  The slight rushing sound he’d noticed a moment ago had grown louder. The lieutenant came to a sudden halt. “Whoa, shit.”

  “What is it?” Chris asked, hurrying forward. Then he saw it and froze where he stood.

  “A river,” Kemp said. She almost growled the word. “A fucking river.”

  He shook his head to clear it. “I saw a stream last night. Well, more like a creek than anything. I could have stepped over it. Nothing like this. Still…”

  There it was, before and slightly below them, a broad shining ribbon of flashing greys, greens, and browns, placid-looking but churning to white spray against rocks in a few places. It wasn’t that wide, but they sure as hell wouldn’t be able to step over it.

  “Goddammit,” she said under her breath. “I hate rivers.”

  “What did they ever do to you?” the scientist asked. Trying to joke with her right now was probably a bad idea.

  “Almost killed me,” she replied, “and half the people I trained with.”

  “That’ll do it,” he acknowledged. He immediately began to think of how they might cross it or if they might be able to go around it. Its source had to be somewhere within the Zoo, since it certainly didn’t begin anywhere in the surrounding desert.

  “Where did this much water even come from?” Kemp went on. She shook her head in exasperation and gritted her teeth. After a few moments, she took her pack off and went through their supplies.

  Chris took the moment’s pause to climb on a fallen tree and try to get a better look. The foliage was dense enough that he couldn’t see far, but from what he could see, the river stretched a long way in both directions.

  “I guess we have to cross it,” he said as he leaped back down.

  “You have an incredible intellect, Dr. Lin,” she shot back in a dark tone.

  “Thanks.” He noticed that she had removed a coil of rope. “Should I, uhh, get a stick and test how deep it is, maybe see how strong the current is?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, you should.”

  He found a tree branch that was a good six feet long and broke off the smaller side branches. Standing cautiously at the edge of the water, he stuck the pole into the river at an angle.

  “Whoa!” The scientist struggled to keep hold of the pole without being dragged off his feet. The current was much stronger than it looked. It didn’t seem very deep though, a few feet at most. Unless, of course, it got deeper toward the middle. He turned back and
reported his findings to Kemp.

  “Figures,” she growled. “We’ll attempt to wade through unless it gets beyond waist-height or so. If that’s the case, we turn back and make a tree-bridge or look for a better place to ford. I’ve done this before, and I’ll give you a set of instructions on how to do it safely. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied. He didn’t think it would be that dangerous, but this river, like everything else here, was new to him. The unknown factor still made him nervous. He’d heard stories of people caught by undercurrents that swept them off their feet and held them under until they drowned. At least he knew how to swim.

  “All right,” Kemp said and stood. “Here’s how we do it. We move sideways across the river, facing against the current. Each of us will have a pole. Find another branch like that one you used to test the water after I’m done. Use your left foot to feel ahead for footing and use your pole and other foot to brace yourself against the current. Hold the pole with both hands. Always have at least two points of contact with the riverbed. If you fall, it’s not the end of the world. Let the current take you at first, but bear toward the opposite shore. You know how to swim, right?”

  Chris nodded.

  “Good.” She grimaced. “That would delay us, though, so try not to fall. I’ll send you first. Not because I think you’re expendable, but because I’ll carry the backpack, which makes it a lot harder, and I want you to warn me if it gets deeper or the current gets stronger. Got it?”

  The scientist nodded again as she readjusted the straps of the backpack. He found another branch and tossed it to Kemp, who caught it and held it momentarily like a bo staff before she turned to face the churning brown waters.

  “Jungle rivers can rise fast if they are hit with a lot of moisture upstream. When it rains, that’s one of the biggest dangers. The Zoo doesn’t seem to generate its own weather yet, but if it can generate this much water to begin with, it might be able to generate more. Pay attention to everything out there,” Kemp warned.

  He took a deep breath and knelt to undo his boots.

  “No,” the lieutenant ordered. “Leave them on. Better wet socks than a sharp rock fragment stabbing you through the foot. Besides, for all we know, this place might have spawned its own piranhas by now.” She half-smiled. “I had good instructors, one of whom actually lost a chunk of his leg to a piranha. I shit you not.”

  “Good point,” Chris admitted. He took his pole in both hands, faced the current as she’d instructed, and stepped sideways into the river.

  He instantly felt the pull of the water against his leg. The current was strong, but he was reasonably sure he could handle it. He inched in sideways, not bothering to use Kemp’s tripod method until both his legs were submerged and the waters rose to knee height. He struggled to control the pole in the powerful surge.

  “The current still isn’t too bad,” he reported. Then again, there was still at least three-quarters of the way to go.

  “Good,” Kemp replied. The backpack hung somewhat loosely from her shoulders, and she entered the river about ten or fifteen feet behind him. In addition to holding her own pole in front of her, she had also coiled the length of rope around her left forearm.

  Now, the water was up to the middle of Chris’s thighs. He had to lean forward against the flow, and his sideways movements became almost diagonal, simply to keep it from pushing him gradually backwards. He felt around for his next step with his left foot. “No change yet. The riverbed seems to mostly be mud—sand, I guess. A few small rocks…” The spray hit him in the face now. It was refreshing in the rising heat of late morning.

  This was doable, he decided as he reached the midpoint of the river. He assumed this would be the deepest part and it was about at waist level, maybe navel-level at most. Fighting the current made him tired, though. His legs started to weaken under the strain.

  “You all right?” he called back to Kemp.

  “Yes,” she replied. “You seem fine. Not a lot for the current to drag on,” she pointed out.

  “Asian genetics,” Chris responded. “They come in handy sometimes. Usually not when trying to impress white women. But sometimes.”

  Kemp snorted and his eyes widened. He’d never heard her laugh before.

  They advanced a couple more steps. “You know,” Chris said, “that reminds me—”

  “Shit!” she cursed, and suddenly, she was gone from the corner of his eye.

  The scientist pivoted and almost lost his balance in the process. Kemp floated down the river at a rapid speed. He froze. She hadn’t told him what to do if she fell in.

  Somehow, the lieutenant had uncoiled the rope from her arm and tossed it. The end brushed his shoulder, and his reflexes kicked in. He caught it but in the process, he dropped his pole, which vanished under the churning waters. “I’ve got you!” he stammered.

  He tried to brace himself as her end of the rope snapped taut. Chris was pulled off his feet at first, but he quickly asserted control and planted both feet firmly in the riverbed as he turned sideways to face the opposite shore. His arms burned with the effort of supporting not only Kemp’s weight, but the drag of the river against it.

  “Hold it!” she barked over the froth. She’d lost her pole as well but not the backpack although the water yanked and tugged relentless at it. Her right arm extended toward him and held the rope firmly while her left arm gripped one of the pack’s straps.

  Chris wrapped the end of the rope around his left arm. It was as painful as hell, but it gave him a more secure grip. He saw her do much the same thing and loop it around her right hand. Then she did something that his brain didn’t even register at first. She somehow pulled the backpack forward, twisted herself around, and looped the rope around her own midsection and tied it in a knot with one hand.

  “I’ve got my footing,” she said and heaved the pack back onto her shoulders.

  “Okay,” he called, relieved, but his nervousness returned quickly. “Uhh, what do I do now?”

  “Head for the opposite shore,” Kemp called back. “Try to keep hold of the rope. Don’t worry if you get pushed downstream but get us across carefully. I’ll try to give you some slack so I don’t pull your arm off. If there’s a risk of me pulling you off your feet, let go and continue the mission.”

  “Uh, yes, okay,” he said. He tried to face the current again and work his way sideways. It was slower going without the pole to brace himself but the water grew shallower quickly enough, and soon, the level was down to his shins. The shore was in sight.

  “All right, let go,” the lieutenant said. Chris released the rope and she respooled it around her arm as she reached knee-depth and almost caught up to him.

  He found himself standing on a steep, muddy shore about two feet wide before a nearly-impenetrable wall of green plants. They’d have to re-enter the forest from a different point. For now, though, he waited as Kemp struggled through the last of the river and finally joined him.

  She took a deep breath and wiped water from her brow. Her arms trembled with the exertion of what they’d just done. “Thanks,” she said softly.

  “Don’t mention it,” he replied. A new wave of respect washed over him at Kemp’s survival knowledge, her skills and experience, and her calm focus even in the middle of a near-disaster. How the hell had she done that thing with the knot? He might have to ask her to show him sometime.

  And, something else now dawned on him. “You said that I should continue the mission if you were swept away,” he said. “I guess…” He struggled for words. “I guess that makes it a little more…understandable. What you did yesterday. I mean, I don’t really know much about these situations compared to you. Maybe what you did was right after all.”

  Kemp frowned, but it was one of her gentler frowns. “Sometimes,” she said, as she wrung the water from her pant legs, “you have to cut off the dead to save the living. Like if I drowned while you were pulling me there, you’d overburden yourself with a corpse. It s
ounds harsh, but that’s the way it is with survival. Sometimes, you have to know that someone is already dead.”

  “Like Chad,” Chris said, remembering how she had put him out of his misery as the man-eating vine swallowed him alive. “He was screwed. That thing had already bitten into his head and probably his spine as well. I mean, I’m not sure his brain was fully alive to begin with, though.”

  She half-snorted, half-laughed again. “I used to wonder that myself,” she said. “He was a good shot, though. It’s a shame he never got off a single round. You, however, have proven you can at least sort of handle yourself out here. You’re not simply a passenger.” She nodded toward him, and he nodded back. The rest of the moment was used to catch their breath while they searched the shoreline for an opening in the undergrowth. When they discovered their target, they plunged back into the jungle side by side.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “This is it,” Kemp said, in a voice barely above a whisper. “One of the bio-domes. We’re almost there.”

  Chris peered through the green curtain of squirming vines and leafy branches. He could barely make out a circular strip of metal rising from the ground like the baseboard of a wall. Above it, a mostly opaque white material rose up, curved backwards, and vanished from sight amidst the foliage. It was cracked in places and covered with various brown or blackish-green stains.

  The lieutenant stepped between him and the dome and faced him. “All right,” she said quietly. “This is the heart of the Zoo. Resistance might be stiffer here; or there might be none at all. We really don’t know. The ruined base itself might pose some hazards. Either way, this is where shit gets real, and we need to be careful. I’ll keep the rifle but give you my sidearm. Do you know how to fire one of these?”