Caldera | Book 12 | Kingdom Come

by Stallcup, Heath

He stepped out of the house and took a deep cleansing breath, his eyes taking in the men walking the wall, their weapons at the ready. He glanced toward the gates and tried to prioritize the day’s activities.

  They still had no idea if the horde of infected were a threat, but Brandy’s premonitions had been spot on the last time they were attacked. He didn’t know if the Zulu that Simon had previous relations with was to blame for these deaths and mutilations, or if there was a rogue member of one of the newer group, but people were disappearing an alarming rate.

  He clenched his jaw and muttered a string of epithets as he brushed off the chill air and made towards his house.

  There were too many new and immeasurable variables for him to focus on any single task. He paused and stared at the afternoon sky and sighed. His mind was also torn by his desire to leave all this behind and look for Shelly. He knew that he was blowing smoke up Roger’s ass when he said that he wanted to look for more survivors and any communities that might be scattered out there, but it had sounded good in his head before it rolled off his tongue.

  Hatcher considered whether he might be more of a liability to the group, since his attention wasn’t on the here and now. He was far more interested on the future, the hopeful possibilities. He strode lazily along the sidewalk and watched as the people of their little community continued on their tasks of preparation and defense.

  He turned and studied the greenhouses just beyond the walls and wondered if their focus shouldn’t be more on providing for people’s needs, rather than defense at the moment. Could Brandy’s desire to leave have been a mere mood swing?

  “Incoming!”

  Hatcher spun and watched as people scattered away from the front gates, weapons focusing on a loud engine just beyond view. Without thinking, he broke into a dead run.

  Carol watched a dark-haired woman stepped from the dusty minivan and glance nervously around. She locked eyes with her and gave her a gentle wave. “Hello!”

  The woman glanced back inside the vehicle then slowly shut her door. “Are you with a group?” she called across the median.

  Carol nodded towards the SUV. “Yes. A small group of government researchers. We just recently left the CDC.” She gave the woman another smile and stepped forward slowly. “We’ve been trying to get an idea of how many survivors there are out here, and how they’re fairing since the cure was released.”

  The woman swallowed hard and seemed to stand taller. “Do you have any proof? Any ID?”

  Carol nodded and reached for her pocket before suddenly stopping and looking back at the woman. “I’m just reaching for my ID.”

  A child appeared at the front of the minivan and she had obviously once been infected. Her hair was just beginning to grow back, but her eyes were almost as bright as her smile. “It’s okay mom. They’re good people.”

  The dark-haired woman startled then turned and chastised the child. “I told you to stay in the car!” Her whispered yell was more than audible to the group.

  “It’s okay.” Carol stepped forward again, holding a plastic ID in her hand. “Really. She’s not wrong. We’re not out to hurt anyone.”

  The woman held her arm out to keep the child behind her and stepped slowly towards Carol. She reached out tentatively and took the ID. It read Centers for Disease Control and Prevention and had the young woman’s photo on it. “I wouldn’t know if this was real or fake.” She handed the ID back and stepped away cautiously.

  Carol shrugged and slipped the card back into her pocket. “I can’t think of a single reason to lie about it, but…” She sighed and lowered her eyes. “We really are just trying to locate survivors.”

  The child stepped around her mother and said excitedly, “We have a bunch of survivors.”

  “Shh! Brandy! We don’t know these folks.”

  The little girl looked up at her mother with a confused face. “But we take in new people all the time. Even the ones that were like me.”

  The woman’s face fell and she looked away.

  Carol stepped closer and gave the pair another brilliant smile. “We have supplies, if you need anything. Water. Food…”

  The woman shook her head and looked back at the curious eyes of her daughter. “She’s right.” She gave Carol a defeated look then stepped forward. “I’m Donna. This is Brandy, and yes, we are from a group of survivors.”

  Carol held out her hand. “I’m Carol Chaplain.” She glanced back at the SUV and the man standing by the driver’s door. “That is Lieutenant Davis. He was our military attaché at Fort Collins.”

  Donna took her hand and gave her a tight lipped smile. “My apologies. I wouldn’t have stopped, but Brandy insisted.” She cleared her throat nervously. “We’ve had less than pleasant run-ins with other survivors in the past.”

  “I understand completely.” Carol glanced back at the SUV and the other researchers watching the interaction. “We really do have supplies, if you need anything.”

  Donna shook her head. “No, thank you. We’re good.” She glanced up the highway. “How are the roads north of here? We’re supposed to go to Santa Fe.”

  Davis stepped closer. “Clear, for the most part. We didn’t run into any trouble as we came through. But, we also didn’t really stop.”

  “Are you meeting other people in Santa Fe?” Carol asked.

  “No, we’re just hiding until the fighting is over,” Brandy spurted. Donna gave her a frustrated look.

  “Fighting?” Carol asked, stepping closer and bending down to face the child. “What fighting?”

  “We don’t actually know if there will be any fighting,” Donna answered quickly. “Brandy has…visions.”

  “Of fighting?” Carol asked. “Who is fighting?”

  “The Zulus are gonna try to eat our people.” She squinted in the afternoon sun and seemed to be envisioning something. “They’ll break a lot of stuff, but Mr. Hatcher and my daddy will kick their—”

  “That’s enough!” Donna interrupted, pulling the little girl aside. “She has a very active imagination.”

  Carol stood upright and glanced to Davis. “Are we in any position to assist?”

  “Depends on the numbers.” He gave her a dour look. “Do we want to risk our own people for some unknown survivors?”

  Carol turned back to Donna. “How many are you? Could they use help?”

  Donna swallowed hard and slowly shook her head. “I don’t have an exact count. I do know that in the past few days we’ve had a lot of other folks join our group.”

  “There’s a lot of Zulus coming,” Brandy said, “but we have guns and they just have a bus.”

  Donna gave her a confused look. “Honey, what are you talking about? Ragers can’t drive.”

  Brandy gave her a solemn look. “One of them can.”

  “What the hell is that?” Derek yelled as soon as the gunfire broke out. “Get down!” He dove behind a couch and covered his head with his arms.

  Veronica rushed to the window and pulled the curtain back. “Oh my god…” Her voice cracked as she watched a large yellow school bus jump the curb across the street and aim for the front gates. “They’re gonna ram the—” Her words were cut off as the sound of metal screeching against metal cut through the air.

  She turned and rushed to Simon’s recovery room. She glanced about in a panic, unsure of what to try to grab and run with.

  Simon reached out and took her by the arm, shaking her to get her attention. “Hey, babe! Relax. Whatever is happening, let them deal with it.” She shook her head at him, her eyes wide.

  “All hell is breaking loose out there and—”

  “And if we try to rush out there, we’ll only add to the chaos.” He pulled her close and cupped her face with his hand. “Trust me. You need to remain calm.”

  She felt her mouth go dry and she fought to control her breathing. “But we’re under attack.”

  He nodded slowly, his eyes locked to hers. “Yes, we are. But I’m in no position to protect you, and yo
u wouldn’t have a clue how to protect me.” He gave her a soft smile and pulled her closer. “If you want to do something proactive, go get me a gun.”

  Her eyes widened and she stared at him, her mouth open. “A…what?”

  “Gun. G-U-N.” He gave her another soft smile then squeezed her arm. “If anybody tries to get at you, I can squeeze a trigger. But I need a weapon in order to do that.” He nodded slowly at her. “Can you do that? Can you get me a gun?”

  She nodded in synch with his head then stepped away. “A gun.” She swallowed hard then turned and looked down the hallway to the rest of Vicky’s house. “A gun.”

  “Any gun will do, as long as it’s got bullets.”

  She continued to nod as she jogged down the short hallway.

  “What the hell are you going to do with a gun?” Derek asked, his eyes unable to contain his fear.

  “Exactly what I told her. Defend us.” He gave the doctor a stern stare. “Maybe you should help her search.”

  Derek cringed as the gunfire increased in tempo then crawled back behind the couch. “No, thank you!”

  Simon growled deep in his throat. “Pussy.” He shifted on the mattress and eased his legs off the edge. As his feet touched the floor, he braced himself on the metal edge and pushed off.

  Lana’s head snapped around at the first echoes of gunfire. She could hear shouting and what sounded like a crash. She tried to come to her feet and bumped her head along the rafters of the attic then cursed to herself.

  She tossed the piece of meat that she had been nervously chewing on to the side and made her way to the ladder. She pushed on the wooden structure and could do little more than bounce the ladder against the heavy metal springs holding it in place.

  “Oh, hell no!” She braced her hands against the roof of the garage and stepped toward the furthest edge of the hatchway door. She jumped lightly on the wooden lid and cursed as it simply bounced in place.

  She took a deep breath and pushed against the roof and bounced at the same time, still unable to open the access. “I will NOT be trapped in this damned attic!”

  She glanced around in the darkness and realized that she was standing on one-by-fours nailed to the bottom part of the rafters, forming a makeshift floor. In between each joist was nothing but bare sheetrock.

  She bent low and rapped against it with her knuckles then broke into a toothy grin. “Bingo.”

  She stood upright and pressed her booted foot to the thin material. She felt it give slightly before an audible crack made her smile widen. She stepped to the side and went to stomp on the material…and fell through.

  Lana landed on her ass and back in the middle of the garage. Hard.

  She moaned as she rolled to the side and shook her head, attempting to put the marbles back in their proper place. “That was stupid,” she groaned as she rolled to her side and slowly came to her feet.

  She looked up at the broken ceiling and rubbed her neck. “Next time, I hide in the basement.”

  She stumbled to the door and pushed it open slowly, half expecting to see an armed guard somewhere in the house. She walked through the bird poop encrusted kitchen and towards the front door.

  She pushed it open slowly and stared at the people scrambling about, firing weapons and screaming at each other.

  “I’ve no idea what the fuck is going on, but it looks like just the break I need.”

  Jedidiah ushered his soldiers onto the bus and filled it to capacity. He had searched a number of the vehicles before he’d found one with the keys still in the ignition. He could only hope that the machine would start.

  As he took his seat behind the wheel, he pulled the lever that shut the front doors and stared at the mirror over his head. He imagined that the soldiers closest to the windows would be the first to die. They would absorb the hail of bullets from the unwashed barbarians, but, at least in death, they could act as human shields for the others.

  He took a deep breath and offered up a short prayer for their success.

  Just get on with it! the voice nearly screamed in his head.

  He winced as he twisted the key and heard the big engine roar to life. He fumbled with the lever, and eventually he got the machine into drive. He pressed the gas pedal and steered the hulking beast towards the compound.

  As he closed on the end of the block, he could see that the gates were offset. Nearly perfectly situated in the middle of the block ahead, he did his best to put them on a straight trajectory.

  He turned the steering wheel and felt the machine jump the curb, its suspension groaning as it fought with the sidewalk and gravel yards. He pointed the nose of the beast for the gates and floored the accelerator.

  The first rounds of bullets struck wildly on the windshield, and Jedidiah instinctively ducked low, holding the wheel steady so that the machine would strike the double gates at a precise, forty-five degree angle.

  The number of thumps increased exponentially as more rounds were fired, and Jedidiah found himself leaning so far to the side that he was nearly in the floorboard. He felt glass rain down upon him as the windshield finally gave up. He was questioning whether he’d missed the gates entirely, when the bus lurched and the screech of rending metal notified him that his distractive task was complete.

  The bus tipped precariously on its side, and the engine roared uncontrollably just before the machine fell and slid across the pavement.

  23

  Hatcher slid to a stop, his weapon drawn as the huge school bus tore through the front gates. Its wheels were wobbling, and when the machine hit the curb again, the yellow behemoth tipped. Whoever was driving must have jerked the wheel, because, almost immediately, the bus had began a slow lean before falling to the side and sliding to a stop.

  He leveled the front sight of his weapon and opened fire just as scores of infected suddenly appeared at the walls and swarmed over it like ants.

  He cursed to himself for not having had his rifle with him and reached for another magazine as his slide locked back. “Cover the walls! Cover the walls!” he screamed as he spun a slow circle, doing his level best to stop the lead attackers.

  He watched as his people valiantly attempted to stand their ground, slowly backing away from the swarm, weapons belching hot lead into the flowing mass of bodies.

  Trevor appeared at his side and thrust an M4 into his hands. “I got the scatter gun!” he shouted over the cacophony of gunfire and screams. He leveled the shotgun and began pumping the action as he unloaded a mixture of double-ought buck and slugs into the flow of bodies.

  Hatcher chambered the rifle and began to fire at those coming over the walls. If he could stop them before they got inside, perhaps he could slow their attack by stacking bodies on the other side. He caught movement from the corner of his eye and realized that the bus had been loaded with Zulus. The gate sentries were being overrun, and those inside were scattering between houses.

  He spun and leveled the carbine, picking off as many as he could, when the repercussion of the Howitzer startled him. He glanced, awestruck, to where the gun was set up outside the wall and saw a large plume of spent powder rise into the air as the men charged the weapon again. He knew that whatever Zulu forces were on the southern edge of the compound had just discovered the destructive might of twentieth century warfare.

  Willie stood beside Bertha and yelled as his men attempted a hasty reload. The swarm of infected that appeared out of nowhere had a huge swath cut through them with the first shot, but the wave of bodies behind them were not only closing that gap, but turning their attention to those manning the huge gun.

  “Close that breach door!” he yelled as he reached for the trigger mechanism again. He could see the red in their eyes as they closed on him and his men, and ground his teeth as he fired the next round.

  Even through the headphone-style ear protection, the sound was deafening. The smoke was thick, but he wasn’t surprised that those closest to the gun were no longer charging. They were probably scattere
d across the ground, blown to pieces, as the huge round leveled the attacking forces before it.

  He was still screaming at his men to load the last round and get the hell across the wall when the wave of bodies filled the empty gap and advanced again. Their speed at recovery was even greater than the last time, and Willie didn’t know if they’d get to even use the last round.

  He screamed at his men to retreat, but they stood their ground, small arms firing into the crowd as the breach was sealed and the load-out man clasped his shoulder.

  Willie cursed the demons back to hell as he triggered Bertha and didn’t stay to watch as the forces were leveled again. He pushed and pulled at his men, forcing them to the ladders that would put them back inside the compound.

  He rushed each of the men up the ladder then made the mistake of glancing back at the advancing forces before gripping the side of the ladder himself. He knew he had no chance to make it over.

  He yanked the ladder away from the wall as his last man slid over the edge then pulled his pistol and began to pick off the leaders of the advancing throng.

  His magazine was only half-empty when the wave of bodies crashed over him.

  “Jeezus! What was that? Thunder?” Randy asked as the SUV raced through the city streets of Rio Rancho.

  “Sounded like a canon to me,” Davis replied flatly. “I’m thinking these infected had more than just a bus.”

  “Unless it was the survivors,” Carol added, her eyes scanning above the buildings.

  Andre stared at street signs and compared them to the map. “Just ahead. On the right.”

  Davis barely slowed the SUV before he began the turn then slammed on the brakes as he slid the Excursion around two parked school buses and across a yard, barely squeezing between the ass end of a bus and the front steps of a house. “Holy shit!” he yelled as the SUV threw gravel and bounced across the uneven yard.

  “Now we know where the infected got their bus,” Tamara muttered as she tried to resume loading magazines for Davis. She glanced to David and Irene. “You sure you don’t want something to protect yourselves with?”