Caldera | Book 12 | Kingdom Come

by Stallcup, Heath

  “Meaning, I’m just another worker bee now. Me and Glenda and Larry…we have no desire to be leaders. The only reason we allowed the others to put us in that role was because nobody else would take it. And we were parental figures to a lot of the younger folks.”

  Hatcher nodded slowly. “For the most part, we’re the same. We have a lot of good people. Mostly young, some cured, a handful of specialists, but for the most part, just folks trying to make a go of it.”

  “Here’s to the regular folks.” Willie held his empty bottle up and Hatcher tapped it with his own.

  “Supper is ready, if you boys want to go wash up.” The small woman stepped out of the kitchen and Hatcher looked to Willie. “This is my better half.” He turned in the chair and motioned to the petite woman. “Bertie, this is Hatcher. Hatcher, this is my wife, Roberta.”

  “Everybody calls me Bertie.” She wiped her hand on a towel and held it out for him.

  “Nice to meet you, Bertie.” He glanced towards the kitchen. “It sure smells good, whatever it is.”

  She brightened. “A nice lady gave me some pork meat and a thin fellow with spectacles brought over some fresh vegetables.”

  “The guy was probably Will Stanton. He’s sort of our lead engineer and all around fix-it guy. He also runs the greenhouses.” He nodded to Willie. “You’ll meet him soon enough. He’ll be helping to convert the empty houses to solar.”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Willie stood and inhaled deeply. “I’m so happy to have something other than fish.”

  “Excuse me,” Roger interrupted. He gave Hatcher a solemn stare. “Simon would like to talk to you.”

  Hatcher felt his gut tighten and his face flushed. “The feeling is mutual.”

  “I’m not against it,” Randy Carlson replied quietly. He glanced at the other researchers then back to Davis, “if you have one to spare.”

  “I do.” Davis gave him a concerned look. “But do you know how to use one?”

  Randy fought the urge to smirk. “My dad was a cop. He taught us all at a young age how to properly handle firearms.” He glanced to the other researchers again and most appeared aghast that he’d say such a thing.

  David O’Dell stepped closer to Randy and shook his head. “I never took you for the type.”

  “The type for what?” Randy’s eyes narrowed. “This is not machismo, Dave. This is entirely about security.”

  Davis held a hand up to stop the two before things got out of hand. “Anybody who wants to be a conscientious objector, that’s fine. But those who want to be armed, if they show that they know what they’re doing, I have no problem arming them.” He met each of their gazes and didn’t flinch. “The world is different now. You’ve seen the infected that are still out there, and that’s not to mention the uninfected. Resources may be dwindling for a lot of them, and that can make people desperate.”

  Randy stepped forward and met his gaze. “I’d really prefer to be armed, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “But you’re not a trained soldier,” David interrupted.

  Davis held his hand up again. “In all honesty, Doctor O’Dell, most ‘trained’ soldiers don’t have near the experience that they should with a firearm before one is shoved in their hands and they’re pushed off to war. Same goes for cops. Most are only required to show proficiency in shooting once a year, and even that is with paper targets.” He reached into the bag and withdrew a pistol. He pulled the magazine and inspected it before handing it over to Doctor Carlson.

  Randy ejected the magazine and checked that the chamber was clear before reinserting it and setting the safety. “I’d rather not carry with one in the chamber.” He glanced to the other researchers. “Maybe it will help calm some of their minds.”

  “Your choice, Doc.” Davis reached into the bag and withdrew a shotgun. “I’d like somebody to ride shotgun while we’re cruising through these small towns. He held the shotgun out towards Irene. “Feel up to it?”

  She shook her head. “The only thing I know about firearms is that the bullets come out of the skinny end. I’d rather not.”

  He looked to Tamara Punch. “Doc?”

  She licked her lips nervously and stepped forward. “Will you teach me how?”

  Davis nodded then pulled her gently aside. “Anybody else?” Both Andre and Dr. Benedict gave a slight shake of the head. “That’s okay.” He grabbed a box of shells and stepped toward the woods next to the truck. “We’re going to take a few minutes and go over some basics. The rest of you finish your lunch then we’ll hit the road.”

  As Tamara and Davis pushed through some low scrub brush, Andre pulled Carol aside. “I think you may have started something here.”

  “Good.” She gave him a smile that he found placating.

  “I’m not comfortable with untrained people carrying deadly weapons.”

  She sighed and looked away. “Just because their day to day jobs didn’t require them to carry guns doesn’t mean that they’re not trained.” She glanced toward Tamara and had to concede that her statement wasn’t exactly true. “And firearm safety isn’t brain surgery.”

  “Only an American could be so flippant about something so serious.” He spat as he stepped away, his face reddening.

  “Excuse me?” She fell into step behind him, her own face reddening. “Are you seriously going to drag politics into this?” She grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face her. “Take a look around you, will ya?”

  “At what? A dead and dying world?”

  Her eyes narrowed and she set her jaw. “Yes. That is exactly what is going on. And just like Davis said, if we run into somebody whose resources are dwindling, they may well be desperate. Desperate people do stupid things.”

  “Like carry guns around.”

  She had to force herself to remain calm before she said something she’d regret. “Like try to hurt somebody who isn’t carrying a gun. Or worse.”

  Andre shook his head and fought the urge to curse out loud. “I say that it is a cultural thing. You Americans have been raised on movies of cowboys and action heroes racing around shooting at everything. For every problem, the answer is ‘shoot it.’”

  “I can’t believe you just said that to me.” She was honestly hurt by his words. “You, who ran off with me to prevent…what I’d wrongly assumed would become a breeding program. You saw firsthand what is out there. You know why we ran, and you also know that the people who HAVE the guns are the people who make the rules.” She shook her head as she backed away from him. “I can’t believe that you would want me unarmed and unable to protect myself in a world like this.”

  “That is not what I’m trying to say.”

  She spun back on him and scoffed. “That is exactly what you are saying to me. You want me to be entirely dependent upon you for protection. You, who are adamantly against using a gun as a defensive weapon but are more than happy to allow others to protect us using them. That rings hypocritical to my ears.” She shook her head and gave him a tight lipped smile as she backed away. “And here I thought I knew you.”

  “Chérie! You do know me.”

  “No. I don’t.” She stopped backpedaling and sighed. “You’d have me lying dead on the side of a road to appease your own moral dilemma over the use of a gun as a defensive weapon rather than allow me to protect myself. All because it makes you FEEL bad.” She shook her head and stepped away again. “I’m not willing to put my life on the line so that you can take some moral high ground, Andre. I could understand your viewpoint when there was a small army of soldiers to protect us, but now it’s just us. We have to rely on each other—and on ourselves.”

  He watched her walk away and sighed. “How do I make you understand?” he whispered. “I just worry that one of you will end up hurting one of us.”

  “That’s a hell of a story,” Hatcher deadpanned.

  Simon groaned as he fought the urge to ask Vee for more morphine. “I can’t force you to believe any
of it, but it’s true.” He turned his head to face the angry men standing beside him. “And she’s still alive. She’s out there somewhere.”

  “The odds are pretty damned slim that she’s anywhere near here.”

  Simon coughed a laugh. “You have no idea how devious this bitch is.” He glanced to Roger then back to Hatcher. He tried to stare past the pair to see if Vee was standing in the doorway. “Pull the door shut, will ya? I need to talk to you privately.”

  Hatcher crossed his arms. “We’re pretty private as it is.”

  Simon gave him a serious look. “Please,” he insisted.

  Roger scoffed then turned and pulled the door shut. “There. Spill it.”

  Simon sighed and closed his eyes. “Vee has it in her head that you guys are going to kill me.” He didn’t open his eyes but could imagine the pair were both nodding. “God knows I have it coming.” He clenched his teeth as the pain in his lower back spiked again. He opened his eyes and stared intently at Hatcher. “But for the love of all that’s holy, please don’t hold my association with these people against them.”

  Hatcher smirked. “Now, why would I do that? You come rolling in here like a stuck pig with a whole new army behind you. Except they don’t know that they’re your army yet, do they?”

  Simon winced as he tried to stifle a cough. “Hop off your high horse for a fuckin’ minute, will ya?” He glared at Hatcher as he spoke. “I’m telling ya right now, these people are just folks. They don’t follow my lead, and I damned sure don’t order them around.” He looked to Roger then back to Hatcher. “All I’m asking is, if you’re planning to sink a bullet in my brain, fine. But for everybody else’s sake, tell Veronica that you aren’t the type. Let her rest easy thinking that I’ll live.” He glanced to Roger again. “She’s pregnant and doesn’t need the added stress.”

  “You think we’d lie to her as we’re pulling the trigger on your dumb ass?” Roger asked.

  “I don’t think you’re stupid enough to shoot me in front of her. That might cause retribution that neither of us wants.” He looked back to Hatcher. “I’m sure your surgeon could mix up a cocktail that would take care of me in no time, and nobody would be the wiser.” He shrugged slightly. “I’m okay with that. I got it coming. There’s nothing I could ever do that would make up for what I was. But Vee needs the peace of mind.” His features softened and he pleaded with his eyes. “Please. For her, not me. Just don’t mess up her life over the likes of me.” He glanced back to Roger. “I’m willing to accept whatever you two deem as just penance for my past sins. But Vee doesn’t deserve that kind of heartache.”

  Hatcher looked to Roger then back to Simon. “So you want us to lie to her. What are we supposed to tell her?”

  “Whatever you want. Tell her that I’m not the guy you dealt with. Tell her you are against the death penalty for religious reasons. Whatever,” he sighed. “But she has it stuck in her head that the entire village is going to march on the place with torches and pitchforks just to string me up.”

  Roger chuckled. “She wouldn’t be far off if they knew you were here. There’s only a handful of folks who know, and, for now, they’re keeping it under their hats.”

  Hatcher’s eyes narrowed. “And for whatever reason, Buck is arguing to spare you.”

  Simon gave him a confused look. “Who?”

  “The kid that you cold cocked when you left here.”

  Simon’s eyes widened then he searched Hatcher’s face. “He’s okay then?”

  “Other than a slight concussion, yeah.” Hatcher crossed his arms again. “To be completely honest with you, I’m not sure what to do with you. Right now we have bigger problems.”

  Simon nodded. “I heard. A big group of infected?” He shook his head slightly. “I would have thought they’d all be cured by now.”

  “These are different.” Hatcher wasn’t sure why he was telling him so much, but a small part of him hoped to pick Simon’s mind on the ways the infected think. “They’re not like the others. It’s like the cure changed them rather than cured them.”

  Simon’s eyes narrowed as he thought. “I don’t recall running into any like that.” He turned and gave the pair a knowing look. “Except for Lana. I’m telling you, she’s a bigger threat than you might think. She’s not right. In the head. It’s like she’s…psychopathic.”

  “So, she’s like you,” Roger stated.

  Simon met his gaze and slowly nodded. “Like I used to be. Yeah.”

  “I’m not convinced you still aren’t,” Hatcher said as he reached behind him and opened the door. “We’ll talk more later.”

  “About my request...”

  Hatcher nodded. “I’ll take it under advisement.” He paused and gave Simon a stern look. “But not for you.”

  He nodded. “For her.” He sighed with relief and laid his head back on the pillow again. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me yet.”

  16

  “Do you buy it?” Roger asked.

  Hatcher sat heavily on the front steps of his house and stared into the night. “Part of me thinks maybe he’s telling the truth.” He sighed and pressed his hand to the side of his head, easing a headache. “I just don’t see one woman being that big of a security risk.”

  “I didn’t mean just her.” Roger cast him a furtive glance. “I’m talking the whole ‘turned over a new leaf’ thing.”

  Hatcher shook his head. “Like you said, that doesn’t bring back our dead.”

  Roger nodded and stared into the shadows. “And yet we allow people who are cured into our midst.” He looked at Hatcher again. “We know what they had to do to survive.”

  Hatcher groaned as he leaned back against the porch post. “But they were sick. It’s not like they had any real control over what they were doing.”

  Roger raised a brow. “And yet, Simon would have us believe that becoming infected and then cured somehow rewired his brain.” He sighed as he leaned back. “What if there’s truth to it?”

  Hatcher shook his head. “It doesn’t matter if there is. He was a murderous asshole before he got infected.” He smirked at Roger. “Do you really think that leopard changed his spots?”

  Roger shrugged. “His people tend to think so.”

  Hatcher pushed off the ground and came to his feet. “We’ll deal with them if we survive this army of infected.” He glanced towards the gates and fought the urge to do a radio check with their spotters.

  “If they even attack,” Roger said as he came to his feet. “It’s been days since we saw them and so far, nothing.”

  Hatcher shook his head as he peered toward the horizon. “My gut tells me we’ll see them again.” He turned and patted Roger’s shoulder. “And speaking of, I got a cold supper to get to.”

  Roger gave him a mock salute. “I’m sure Candy is ready to cut my nuts off for staying out so late.” He stretched and turned for the street. “Bright and early?”

  “You know it.” Hatcher disappeared into the garage and Roger stared out at the sheer number of people walking the wall. “Keep your eyes open, boys. Things always seem to go to shit at night.”

  The SUV was deathly quiet as the group drove further south. Carol saw a sign for a town ahead and motioned to Davis to check it out.

  “It’s nearly dark. You sure you want to do this at night?”

  “It might be easier to see lights. Candles, fires…something.”

  “Santa Fe is just a bit further up the road. Surely a town that size would stand a better chance of having survivors, yeah?”

  Carol inhaled deeply and shook her head. “We could spend days driving through a town that size. And if people are hiding, we wouldn’t see them at all.”

  “Understood.” Davis slowed the truck and took the exit for Tesuque. “I’m betting it’s a whole lot of nothing with a few pueblos scattered in between.”

  “Possibly.” She gave him a disarming smile. “But thanks for supporting me.”

  Davis and Andre both
picked up on the double meaning. Davis risked a glance to the rear view and watched Andre shoot daggers through his eyes to the perky blonde in the front. He chose to ignore the lover’s spat and slowed the truck as the first buildings appeared. “Here ya go, Doc. If you spot anything, let me know.”

  He turned off the lights, and in the dim glow of the setting sun, the entire area momentarily went black. It only took moments for his eyes to adjust, and he was able to increase speed slightly.

  “I think I see something,” Tamara stated from the back seat. “To the right.”

  All eyes spun and Davis let off the gas, allowing the truck to slow. He spotted what she had seen and glanced ahead for a side road that might lead them towards the light.

  “Remember,” he began, “we need to be smart about how we approach somebody.”

  “Understood,” Carol replied as she rolled down her window and hung her head out to get a better view. “It’s not a very bright light. Maybe a candle.”

  “We’ll find out soon enough,” Davis answered.

  “This is insanity,” David O’Dell groaned. “You’re just asking to get us all killed.”

  “That’s enough,” Andre chided quietly. “She has her reasons to want to look for survivors.”

  Carol stiffened as she listened to him defend her but said nothing as the truck rolled to a stop and Davis put it into park, being careful not to step on the brake pedal. He glanced to Carol. “I’m trying to hide our position, but odds are they heard the engine.”

  She opened the door and winced as the interior light came on then quickly shut it behind her. She glanced to the researchers staying low inside the SUV and watched as Davis stepped out and shut his own door. “After you.” He motioned her forward.

  Carol slowly approached the mud brick and stone building, her eyes carefully watching the flickering light in the window. When she got closer she cupped her hand to her mouth and called, “Hello?”

  “You’re not from around here.”

  The voice startled her and she jumped, her head spinning to see where it came from. Davis pointed to their rear. “Your five o’clock,” he whispered.