Caldera | Book 12 | Kingdom Come
Page 1
Caldera 12
Kingdom Come
Heath Stallcup
Contents
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
From the desk of Heath Stallcup
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Also by Heath Stallcup
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Caldera 12 Kingdom Come
©2020 Devil Dog Publishing
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead, or otherwise, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Author’s Note
This is always the most difficult part for me, saying goodbye to characters that have become real to me. In fact, they often feel like family. But all good things must come to an end, and it’s time for Caldera to fade to black. Besides, twelve is a good number for a series to end on, don’tcha think?
I have a few other projects in mind that I’d like to dabble with, and now seems like a good time to dip my toes into other waters. I can’t really discuss what those other projects are at the moment, but for fans of Bobby Bridger and his clan, rest assured, I will definitely be visiting his world again. Hopefully, soon.
I still stand by my belief that if a zombie apocalypse ever really happens, it won’t be the dead that rise, but a viral infection that sweeps across the living. It’s just more believable for me. And I wouldn’t be surprised if somewhere out there a rogue nation is toying with the idea in some secret, underground military laboratory.
Regardless, we should always be prepared. You never know what might happen. And like I always tell my girls, remember:
Rule #1: Cardio…
1
“Nobody.” Buck’s voice was barely a whisper. “Not a single soul.”
Roger turned in his seat. “They may be too scared to come out, kid.” He glanced at Hatcher staring out of the windshield. “Maybe after we double check at home, we can come back at daybreak and see if we can find anybody.”
“So this ‘Simon’ guy,” Rich began, “are you sure he was behind all this?”
Buck ground his teeth. “He was infected. He brought an army of the Zulus against us more than once.”
Roger gave him a thoughtful look. “But you said he was cured, when you saw him.”
Buck spun and glared at him. “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t still lead an army.”
Roger nodded, his mind deep in thought. “I suppose.” He sat back and looked at Hatcher. “What are your thoughts?”
Hatcher bit back the swear words he wanted to unleash. “I think he’s behind it. I don’t know how or why, but it’s got to be him.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter. “We should have killed him when we had the chance.”
“Hindsight is 20/20,” Rich quietly responded. “I know there are bad people out there, but…damn.” He sat up and tapped Roger’s arm. “How many people lived there?”
Roger shrugged. “I’m not positive the headcount, but probably a dozen or more—not counting kids.”
Rich sighed and turned back to the window. “I hate the idea that kids got caught up in that.”
“So do I,” Buck said, his fists balling. “I had him right in my sights. If I hadn’t hesitated…”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it, Buck,” Hatcher interrupted. “It’s a lot harder to pull the trigger on a person than you think.”
“Simon isn’t a person. He’s a cockroach.”
“We’re here.” Hatcher pulled up to the gates and laid on the horn. “Open up!”
The guards quickly pulled the gates open and Hatcher drove through, parking in his driveway. “Have the guards been doubled?”
The sentry nodded. “Yes, sir, and we doubled up the roving patrols as well. If anything moves out there, we’ll know about it.”
Hatcher pulled the man closer and lowered his voice. “We have no idea how many Zulus he has with him. I’m guessing quite a few because they swarmed the retirement home before anybody could radio for support.”
“We’ll keep our eyes open, sir. The militia has already been armed and apprised of the situation.”
Roger stepped up beside the pair. “Hatch, I’d have everybody armed. If any of them get through the lines, families may be left to their own.”
“Agreed.” He turned back to the sentry. “Let the armorer know. Every adult is armed until further notice.” He began marching towards Vicky’s clinic. “No exceptions!”
“Yes, sir.”
Hatcher pushed open the door to Vicky’s house and found her standing in the triage area, packing a bag. “How many survivors?”
“None. So far.” He gripped the back of a chair and watched as she froze, her mouth open in shock. He held a calming hand up. “We’re hoping that some of them were able to escape. Maybe they’re holed up somewhere, afraid to come out.”
“Lord, I hope so.” She took a deep breath and continued packing. “Let me guess. Simon?”
Hatcher shrugged. “I want to say it is because…well, that’s what he does.”
She gave him a cautious look. “But?”
“But…when Buck ran into him, he was cured, apparently. So was the woman that was with him.” He raised a brow at her. “I’m wondering if it was Throwbacks.”
She set down the saline she held and turned to him. “What little I know of them, they can’t stand to be in each other’s presence.”
“I know.” Hatcher threw his hands up. “That’s why I keep coming back to Simon.”
“Remember Occam’s razor.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that applies here. There is no simplest answer.”
“How many times has he attacked us using Zulus?”
“Too many.” Hatcher pulled the chair out and sat in it. “But I can’t figure out how he’s directing the infected if he’s cured.” He buried his face in his hands and sighed.
“I’m packed. I’d like to go back and search for survivors.”
Hatcher came to his feet, his head shaking adamantly. “Not just no, but hell no.”
“But Danny—”
“It’s not safe, Vic.” He pushed the chair back in and turned towards the door. “I can’t let you.”
“Hatcher!” She glared at him as he slowly turned back to her. “I promised those people that I would be there for them. If any of them need me, I need to be there.”
Hatcher ground his teeth then glanced outside. “Not unless you have a small army with you.” He held a hand up to stop her from arguing. “You’ll need the strong backs to move stuff. The ceiling fell in and…any survivors are probably unde
r burning debris.”
“I better get the silver cream then.” She walked into the next room then yelled to him. “Gather your forces and prep me a truck. Something big enough I can bring back any wounded.” She stuck her head around the corner. “Now, Danny.”
Lieutenant Davis leaned over the parapet of the roof, his rifle barking with each squeeze of the trigger. “Magazine!” He held his hand out and one of his men stuffed another loaded mag in his palm. “Force them back, boys!”
“Sir, the few remaining are under the cover of the porch. Permission to deal with them at the entrance?”
“Granted. But I’m coming with you.” He turned to the man on his right. “Continue clearing the stragglers. I’ll radio if we breach the doors.”
“Copy that, sir.”
Davis turned and bolted for the door. Two men fell into step behind him, and they began descending the stairs until they reached ground level. Dr. Broussard still waited at the steel security door and held a hand up to stop him. “What’s the situation, Lieutenant?”
“We’ve cleared the grand majority of them, sir. The rest are out of our line of sight. We have to go to the doors to fight them back.”
“May I suggest something?” Andre asked as the officer pulled the steel door open. “Go through the loading docks and circle the building. The only way you can deal with them from in here is to shoot through the glass, and we may need that again another day for just such an event.”
Davis studied the man a moment before nodding. “We’ll try it your way, sir.” He turned to his men. “On me!”
As he darted down the hallways and made his way to the loading docks, Davis radioed his men on the roof. “We’re going out the back and flank them. Cease fire until further orders!”
“Copy, sir,” came the static-filled reply.
The trio exited the loading ramp door and went to the right, weapons shouldered and at the ready. They circled the building, climbing the short hill behind the lab before emerging adjacent to the entry.
Lieutenant Davis held a fist in the air, stopping his men. “We can’t risk shooting out the glass. We need to get their attention.”
“You want them to come to us, sir?” a soldier asked.
“Affirmative.” Davis stepped forward and fired three rounds into the ground. “Hey! Over here!”
The infected beating on the door stopped and turned to stare at the men behind them. Without thought or care for their own safety, they broke into a dead run, screaming as they rushed their prey.
“Drop ‘em!” Davis ordered, falling to one knee.
The M4s belched fire in the night air, piercing flesh and splintering bone as the full metal jacket rounds raced to their targets. The trio of soldiers ensured that the infected stood no chance.
As the men relaxed and ejected their spent magazines, Davis called to the soldiers still on the roof. “Secure the roof. Muster out front. We have a ton of bodies to clear.”
One of the soldiers still scanning the area jerked his rifle up as the front doors opened, and Andre stepped out of the shadows. “Mr. Davis?”
“Over here, sir.” He waved him over. “Watch your step—we made a pretty big mess.”
Andre stepped around the bodies and the gore and lowered his voice as he approached. “May I make another suggestion?”
Davis smiled at him. “Secure the fences, sir?”
Andre tried to hide his shaking hands. “That would be nice, Lieutenant.”
“We’re on it, sir. Give us a chance to clear these bodies and we’ll get it raised.” He glanced at the deuce and a half parked in the lot. “I’ll try to pull the poles back up, fabric and all, but I think we’d be better secured if we moved that truck inside and used it as a brace. Just for the night.”
“I’ll defer to your expertise.” Andre gave him a slight nod of the head then gripped his shoulder. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”
“Just doing my job, sir.”
“I need light!” Veronica yelled as one of the bikers held the lantern above Simon’s body. “Over here.” He adjusted the lantern and sighed with relief when Hammer flipped on an LED flashlight.
“I gotcha covered, Doc.”
“Thank you.” She held the IV bag high and nodded to another man. “I need you to hold this up, high!” The man took the plastic bag and held it over his head.
Footsteps could be heard stomping hurriedly towards them and two breathless men appeared from the darkness. “We got the stretcher.”
“Set it down here.” Veronica slipped to the side and tugged at Simon’s shoulder, effectively rolling him to his side. “Somebody get his legs!”
They loaded him onto the old Army stretcher and she held her grip on his wrist as two men hefted his still form and began marching up the road towards the camp. Another man walked alongside, holding the IV bag as high as he could.
“We need to hurry,” Veronica said. “Is anybody prepping my trailer?”
“I think Darla is setting it up,” one of the men replied.
“I’m going to need help,” she said as she struggled up the steep road. “Who here is less squeamish?”
“Ma’am?” one of the men asked.
“There’s going to be a lot of blood. I’m probably going to need a couple of you just to hold him down. I can’t have anybody with a weak stomach assisting me.”
“I can help,” one of the men said.
“I got ya, Doc,” Hammer replied, hobbling on his crutch and doing his best to keep up. “But if you lose him, I want his good knee.”
She ignored the joke and when the campers came into view she broke off from the pack and ran ahead. “Bring him straight in!”
Veronica pushed open her door and found Darla bustling about in her kitchen. “I’m boiling water.” She paused and held her hands to her mouth. “I’m sorry. After I set up the table, I didn’t know what else to do and in the movies they always boil water.”
“That’s fine.” Veronica pushed past her and snatched a black medical kit from a shelf. She tore it open and dumped the contents into one of the pots of water. “These aren’t the best surgical tools, but they’re all I have. At least they’ll be clean.” She braced her arms on the counter and fought the urge to cry.
Darla rubbed at her back. “Just do the best you can, Vee. That’s all anybody can ask.”
She looked up into Darla’s big blue eyes and gave her a tight lipped smile. “I have to save him. I just have to.”
“Then you will.”
The men appeared at the door and almost panicked when the stretcher was too wide to fit. Veronica rushed to the front and ordered, “Set the stretcher down and carry him in. Arms and legs! Try not to stress his midsection.”
The men lowered the stretcher and scooped Simon up from the ground. “Coming through!” The men backed up her steps and into the small trailer. Veronica ushered them quickly to the table and they laid his body on it.
“I’m gonna need a lot of light,” her eyes pleaded with the blood soaked men, “and tons of prayers.”
Jedidiah slept fitfully, his dreams consuming him. Scenes of places he had never been before played like a bad movie, flashes of light flickering between each shot. His body jerked as he tried to avoid the blinding lights, but the images were important. He knew they were.
He tried to wait patiently for the images to stabilize, as they always did. He knew from experience that the angel of the Lord would disclose to him his next task in due time; it took a lot of energy for a heavenly being to rein in the power so that a simple human mind could understand the message.
He wished he could close his eyes to the blinding flashes, but they were already closed. He couldn’t turn away from the all-encompassing light, and when shapes and forms began to emerge from the pure white, he recognized certain buildings.
He could see himself now. He was clearly standing in the center of the street, just outside of the theater. His point of view rose into the heavens until the town almost appeared as a ma
p below him. A red glow formed on the other side of town, and he slowly descended through the clouds until he could see what he was looking for.
He could see the smoke and destruction from their attack tonight, and it brought a smile to his face. The next target wasn’t far from where they’d been.
He could see row after row of houses, and, on the edges of those houses stood businesses. He stared at the complex of buildings and smiled when he recognized the location.
Jedidiah’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, his body drenched in sweat. He turned and stared at the tiny window in the wall and slowly lay back down when he realized it was still dark out.
“Tomorrow, children.” He moaned as his body settled back into the old couch of the manager’s office. “Tomorrow we will meet the enemy and they will know our numbers. Their fear will fuel our righteous anger, and we will be His mighty hammer.”
He tried to go back to sleep, but his excitement wouldn’t allow it. He chewed at his inner cheek as he wondered how the interaction would actually go down.
He turned and stared at the tiny window, stars glistening on the other side. “Your will be done, Lord.” He swallowed hard. “Just…please. I feel I’ll need Your guidance on this one.”
2
Hatcher stepped out of the truck and pushed past the ruined gates. “Victoria!” He held his hands to his mouth to amplify his voice.
A man rounded a scorched column and waved him over. “She’s out back.”