“We could drive over it a few times.” Wally suggested.
Henry shook his head again. “Fresh tire tracks in the sand? Nope.”
“Yeah, I didn’t think of that.” He drummed his fingers along the console of the pickup and continued to stare at it. “Too bad we couldn’t conjure up a big wind storm to scatter it a bit.”
Henry nodded. “But not too big. We still want the gouges to be filled with sand.”
Wally turned to him and gave him a big smile. “What if we block the road?”
“With what? Police barricades?”
“Nope. The box truck.” His smile continued to spread and Henry gave him a confused look.
“You want to park the box truck at the end of the road?”
“Not park. Flip it on its side.” He pointed to the entryway of the gas station. “If we put it on the other side of that, we can still get in and out pretty easy, we just use the gas station lot. But to somebody just driving by, it will look like there was an accident. Maybe it happened when everything was first going down…who’s to say?”
Henry mulled the idea around a bit and shook his head. “We’d have to clear that through Candy.”
“So, clear it through her.” Wally snapped his fingers. “I’m telling you, it’s a helluva idea.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” Henry put the truck into gear and turned back for the warehouse. He just had to figure out how to tell Candy they needed to wreck one of their working vehicles to block the road.
Chapter 2
Hatcher leaned out of the window of the bouncing Humvee and popped rounds into the crowd as they rushed the transport. He couldn’t see if any of the rounds hit home, but watched as they slowly pulled away from the horde.
“Total waste of ammo, but it made me feel better.” He threw himself back into the seat and gave Hollis a stern stare. “I’m sick of these bastards screwing up my day.”
Hollis raised a brow. “No worries, Ranger. I’ll get you home.” He slapped the driver on the shoulder. “Mash the skinny pedal down, sergeant. I want plenty of room between us and the Zeds.”
“Roger that, sir.”
Buck remained quiet in the back seat until the Humvee crested the next hill. He tapped Hatcher’s arm. “That’s where I’ve been spending most of my time. They rarely travel this far out.”
Hatcher turned to see an RV lying on its side. He could see that something had rummaged through the interior at some point, as trash was scattered in a semi-circle near the back window.
He gave Buck a confused stare. “What about bears?”
Buck shook his head. “Haven’t seen any. I don’t know if they headed for high ground or if the infected hunted them.”
Hatcher tried to imagine a bear being taken down by a pack of feral humans. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept. “You won’t have to worry about going back any time soon, kid.” He glanced to Hollis. “You can crash with us for as long as you need.”
“If it’s all the same, I’d rather not hunt for family.” His eyes avoided Hatcher’s as he spoke. “I wasn’t close to my uncle and I got the distinct impression that my mom hated the man. The only time my dad had anything to do with him was if he needed something.”
Hatcher thought of Vicky. He couldn’t picture his life without his sister in it. She was the only family he had left. He wondered if the boy was mentally prepared to cut all ties to family, but one last look at the RV and he realized that Buck was no mere child.
Trying to stay alive in such a hostile environment couldn’t have been easy. He could only imagine what Buck had to do to keep breathing. He cast a furtive glance at the lean young man sitting across from him and noted the thousand-yard stare.
“You can stay with us as long as you like, Buck. Nobody’s gonna make you go any place you don’t want.” He fought a grin and added, “I’m sure Skeeter will be glad you’re alive.”
Buck gave him a small smile and nodded. “I’m glad she made it out.”
Hatcher bit back a smart-assed remark. “She’s been a real…handful. Maybe with you back among the living, she’ll calm down a bit.”
He turned his attention back to the front of the truck and the brush being knocked out of their path. “Are we almost to the secondary landing zone?”
Hollis pointed up and to the left. “Just over that ridge is a clearing. The chopper should be waiting for us.”
As the Humvee crested the ridge, Hollis’ stomach fell. The chopper was making a slow circle just feet from the ground with Zeds hanging from the landing gear. One was scrambling up the strut and reaching for the side door.
“No!” Hollis braced a hand on the dash as the driver locked up the brakes.
“I thought you said they never came out this far?” Hatcher threw an accusing glare at Buck.
Hollis threw open his door and took careful aim at the creatures hanging onto his ride home. He let loose a round and wanted to cheer as a body fell from the chopper.
He looked through his scope to the pilot and saw a figure making its way through the rear. He fired two rounds, praying he’d connected with the intruder, but the aircraft made one last spin before tilting downward, its blades slicing the topsoil before the entire craft sunk into the soft dirt.
Pieces of helicopter flew in every direction and Hollis instinctively ducked behind the cover of the door. He watched in horror as the Zeds dove into the broken craft and prayed that the pilot didn’t suffer.
“Son of a…” he trailed off.
“We need to move!” Hatcher pointed to the right and Hollis turned to see a large pack of Zeds tearing ass up the hill toward them.
He slammed his door shut and glared at the pilot. “Take the highways!”
The driver turned the Humvee around, heading back to the paved roads into the park as Hollis relayed the obvious bad news to his men over the radio.
Hatcher laid his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. He knew this was a bad idea. He turned slowly to Buck and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I guess I jinxed us by promising you a real bed tonight.”
Buck shrugged. “Out of the frying pan…”
“City of Vision.” The biker scoffed. “Looks more like a ghost town.”
The bikers had parked in the middle of the highway and the lead man stood on the pavement, binoculars to his eyes, scanning the city ahead of him. “I’m not seeing shit.” He dropped the spy glasses and huffed. “If he’s gonna run off, he shoulda left bread crumbs for us to follow.”
“Stain, won’t the birds eat them?”
The lead biker, nicknamed Stain by Simon, turned slowly and stared at his riding partner. “You are joking, right?”
The man shook his head. “I reckon the birds would eat—”
“Did your momma drop you on your head as a baby?” Stain slipped the binoculars back into the saddle bags of his bike and straddled the machine again. “Fan out. If you see anything that looks like a lead, call on the radio.”
The bikes revved their engines as they came to life. Each rider slowly pulled away from the others and headed into town.
Stain stayed back and stared at his riding partner. “I worry for you.” Before the man could question his statement, Stain started the bike and pulled away.
He drove into town slowly, his dim-witted partner cruising behind him. Stain watched as the other two bikes broke off the main road and began surveying a residential area. He continued into town, eyes constantly scanning for Squirrel or his ride. The old Indian was quite distinctive. There would be no confusing it with another.
He cruised into a pharmacy parking lot. Broken glass and trash littered the area. One glance through the shattered windows told him the place had been looted. Most likely numerous times.
He stepped off the Harley and stretched his neck. From where he stood, he could see down two main roads. He nodded to his partner to kill the bike.
Once he had calmed his mind and his senses refocused, he listened. He could almost hear the e
bb and flow of the other two motorcycles in the empty town. He half-expected to hear screams, gunshots, voices yelling. But there was nothing. The silence was almost deafening.
He walked to the center of the interchange and stared in all four directions. Nothing as far as the eye could see. He sighed and walked back to his bike. He had hoped for something. Some sign of life.
He mounted the bike and stared at the abundance of southwestern styled homes. How could there have been so much life here and weeks later it was like this?
He thought back to when Squirrel had spotted smoke in this direction. He hated to admit it, but he never saw the shadow that Squirrel claimed to see. He scratched at his chin and wondered, Did he have another reason for coming here? He glanced to his partner. “Squirrel ever say anything about knowing anyone from here?”
He shook his head. “Squirrel didn’t talk to me.” He spat tobacco spit and worked the chaw in his jaw. “I don’t think Squirrel talked to many folks. Wasn’t the talking type.”
Stain tried to remember ever having a heart-to-heart with the big man. He couldn’t recall ever having spoken to him that wasn’t in the line of work. He sighed heavily and started the Harley. “We’ll work a grid. Keep your eyes peeled for his bike.”
The two pulled out slowly and Stain wondered if Albuquerque was just as desolate.
Vivian yawned and fought to keep her eyes open. She glanced at her watch then grabbed Charles’ chart. She ran her finger down along the vitals taken. No change.
She stood and walked to the door leading into the isolation ward. Peering through the glass, she saw Charles try to roll over, struggle a moment with his bindings, then calm down. She pressed the door open slightly and heard a gentle snore. Satisfied that he was resting, she backed out and went to her office.
She practically fell into the couch and pulled her lab coat tighter around her. The moment she leaned her head back, she was out.
In her dreams, she was walking in a forest. She knew she wasn’t alone, but she wasn’t afraid. She stepped behind a large oak and waited. Footsteps were heard, and she saw infected people pass her location. She knew they were looking for her. She knew why, too. She had the cure. For a moment she was confused why she wouldn’t share it with them.
She slipped back to the other side of the tree and began walking back the way she had come in.
“You abandoned me.”
Her head snapped up and she stared into the eyes of Captain Andrews. For the briefest moment she lit up, happy to see him. Then she noticed the rot that had infested his features. His eyes turned from crystal blue to milky, and his teeth were now all crooked and stained with dried blood.
“You left me to die with the monsters.” He croaked at her. His hands slowly reached out and she stepped back, her breath catching in her throat.
“Don’t touch me,” she whispered. “You’re infected.”
“Of course, I’m infected. You left me to die with them!” He stepped forward and she watched as his lower jaw broke loose on one side and hung precariously from his face. He looked like a walking corpse and she felt her stomach heave.
She threw up on her shoes and when she looked up, he was gone. She spun a slow circle, her eyes straining to see him amongst the tall trees. She cupped her hands to her mouth and yelled, “Joe!”
Her eyes snapped open and Vivian fought to breathe. She shot up on the couch and looked around.
“Are you alright, Dr. LaRue?” a soft voice asked.
She looked up to see one of her techs standing over her. “Yeah. Just…a dream.”
“You were shouting.” The young woman bent low and gave her a solemn look. “You really should get some rest. Real rest, not a cat nap on the couch. We can handle things here and I’ll call you if there’s any change in—”
Vivian stood and held her hands up, stopping her midsentence. “Thank you. I think I will.”
She turned and practically staggered out of her office.
When she made it to her stateroom, she sat on the bed and rubbed at her eyes. Why had she dreamed of Andrews? After all that had happened, she had practically pushed him from her mind.
She stretched out on the bed, but her mind wouldn’t let her rest. She had always been a believer that dreams were your mind’s way of letting you know something you had missed.
“Why him? Why would I dream of Joseph after all of this?” She yawned and rolled to her side. “What could it possibly mean?”
Vivian allowed her mind free reign to wander. If it wouldn’t let her sleep again and re-enter the same dream, she couldn’t very well ask him why he was there. She closed her eyes and tried to center her thoughts on the young captain. Joseph had always seemed like a straight and narrow military man, even if he didn’t like their regulation haircuts.
She smiled as she thought of him.
She sat up, her face painted with shock and worry. “He was working on the virus before—”
She jumped from her bed and pulled her lab coat on before disappearing out the door.
“Absolutely not!” Candy yelled.
“But it would block the road perfectly,” Henry argued.
“We need that truck, Hank.” Candy planted her hands on her hips and he knew that her mind was made up.
“How about if they just park it there?”
They both turned and Squirrel flashed another brilliant smile.
Hank returned the smile. “She let you out of the hoosegow already?”
Squirrel shrugged and draped an arm around Candy’s shoulder. “I think she’s sweet on me.”
Candy stammered and spun away from the pair. “Don’t go getting fresh with me, sailor!” She pointed a finger in his face.
“You two can flirt later,” Henry interrupted. “But what if we did what he said? We could park that big box truck cattywampus on the road there. It would block easy access and the view.”
She turned back to Henry and sighed. “Bring the keys back with you.”
Squirrel smiled. “Not to say they couldn’t hotwire it, but who’d want to?” He turned to Candy again and flashed his smile. “Right?”
She groaned and marched off, waving them off with her hand. “Just get it done and get your ass back here.”
Hank slapped Wally on the shoulder. “Follow me in the pickup.”
The pair practically ran out of the warehouse and Squirrel spun a slow circle, taking in the setup. He was impressed by the number of people living under the steel roof. He saw kids running around, trying to be quiet as they played. Couples working together to either set up a type of home for their own or doing odd jobs.
He trotted after Candy and fell into step alongside her. “So…what can I do to make things better?”
She stopped and stared at him. “Make what all better?”
He raised a brow. “No, not all better, just…what can I do? Surely everyone has a job here.”
She inhaled deeply and shook her head. “If you really wanted to help, you’d find a way to send your friends packing. Keep them as far away from us as possible.”
Squirrel’s face fell, and his smile disappeared. He studied her a moment and realized, her biggest fear wasn’t losing any thing. It was allowing any of her people to come to harm. He swallowed hard and nodded. “I might can do something about that.”
She watched him spin and walk toward the staging area. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words refused to form. She didn’t like how flippant he could act, and she didn’t like the fact he rode with the marauders, but she didn’t want him to leave, either.
Truth be told, she thought he was very easy on the eyes. And as much as she hated to admit it, his smile disarmed her. She liked it when he smiled.
She sighed and took off after him. She would catch up with him and tell him to stay. To find the armory and get a rifle assigned to him. Work his way to the roof and keep a lookout for his friends. She would give him a berth deep in the warehouse…probably close to her own. So she could keep an eye
on him, of course.
Maybe she’d let him sit by her during meals. Maybe they could talk more and get to know each other better. After all, they were the only two law officers here at the warehouse.
She rounded the corner, expecting him to be standing at the door, arguing with the guard. Instead, she saw the guard clicking the lock back into place.
“Where’s Roger?”
He turned and gave her a confused look. “Who?”
“The tall biker-looking guy? Roger.” She marched forward and held her hand out for the key.
“He, uh…just left. Said you sent him on a mission and…Hank and Wally said—”
“Just give me the damned keys!” She pushed her hand out farther to emphasize the command.
The guard fished in his pocket and pulled the lone key out. “He said you told him to—”
“I know what I said.” She fought with the lock and finally got it to pop. She handed the key back, then pulled the chain away. “I need to catch him before he does something stupid!”
She pulled the door open and felt her heart leap into her throat. She just caught the back of Roger’s jacket as he pulled the big motorcycle out of the staging area. He turned right and accelerated away.
She watched in horror as the gate guards pulled the chain link gate back into place and lock it with heavy chain. She felt her lower jaw tremble for a moment before she squared her shoulders.
“He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself.” She let the steel door shut behind her and she walked slowly toward the chain link gate. She could still hear the exhaust from his motorcycle as it faded away. “He knows where we are.”
Chapter 3
The Humvee’s tires squawked as the rubber bit into the pavement and Hatcher knew the driver must really be pushing the machine. He leaned up in his seat and tapped Hollis on the shoulder. “Can’t you request another chopper to meet us somewhere?”
Hollis shook his head. “Radio won’t reach that far.”
“Do you intend to drive all the way to the coast?”
Caldera Book 4: Countdown To Oblivion Page 2