Hollis shrugged. “Until I can come up with a better plan, yes.”
Buck tapped the captain’s arm to get his attention over the drone of the diesel engine. “Are there any other bases nearby? Some place that has another helicopter?”
Hollis gave him a strained look. “Do you know how to fly one?” He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so harsh, but his tone sounded demeaning.
“How about a radio then?” Buck asked hopefully. “We could call for somebody to pick us up?”
Hollis sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes. “Look, kid, there are all kinds of bases in Montana. The problem is we lost contact with all of them shortly after the infection spread.” He turned more in his seat and the look in his eyes gave Buck little hope. “We have to assume they were overrun with the Zeds.”
Buck shook his head. “If I can survive at ground zero, surely trained military could have—”
“Give it up!” Hollis yelled. “If there was an easy way out, believe me, I’d go for it. I’d point us in that direction and we’d make a bee-line. But the truth of the matter is, we can only rely on ourselves.”
Hatcher scooted closer and lowered his voice. “Surely they’d send somebody to check on us when the chopper doesn’t check in or we miss our return time.”
Hollis shook his head slowly. “Resources are limited. I can’t believe they’d risk losing another chopper and crew just to check on us.”
“But the primordial virus is the key, right? Surely they’d make another attempt.”
Hollis shrugged. “We didn’t discuss that contingency.”
Hatcher sighed heavily and sat back in his seat. “Maybe we should stick close to the flight path. Just in case. We can maybe find a building that would make a suitable, defendable shelter, then set guards to watch for incoming flights. Shoot a flare or some-such to get their attention.”
Buck nodded. “Or once they get close we can reach them with your portable radio.”
Hollis considered the option for a moment. “We shouldn’t wait too long…if we do this.” He turned again and faced Hatcher. “I’m willing to give it a couple of days. Three at the most. But if things start to get hairy, we bug out.”
Hatcher fought to keep from grinning. “Agreed.”
Hollis tapped the driver. “Find us a place to pull over. We need to form a plan.”
The driver pulled to the side of the road and the following Humvees followed suit. He turned in his seat and looked to the two in the rear. “Tell me you know of a building that fits your description.”
Hatcher glanced out the window, his mind racing. “I know there are private residences that are right on the border of the park.” He nodded slowly. “A couple of them are high on a ridge.”
“Do they overlook the lake?” Hollis asked.
Hatcher shrugged. “I’ve never actually gone to any of them, but I know that depending on the time of year, I could see the lights from the center. That means they overlook the same flight path our chopper used to bring us in.”
Hollis inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “Can you get us there?”
Buck smiled wide. “I can.” He shot Hatcher a knowing look. “I think I may have raided a couple of those places looking for food.”
“That was a hell of a walk, kid.” Hatcher gave him a suspicious look. “Why didn’t you stay at one of them?”
Buck’s face fell. “I thought that if and when help came, they’d come to where it all started.” He looked away and his voice dropped to almost a whisper. “After I hauled what I could carry back to the park…”
Hatcher touched his hand gently. “What?”
“I didn’t have the heart to go back.” He shrugged. “I just holed up in the wrecked travel trailer and did my best to survive.”
Hollis pulled his map and spread it out on the center hump between the rear seats. “We’re here. Where are the houses?”
Buck studied the map to try to get his bearings. He found the center and could see the stream on the topographical map. He traced the route he took with his finger and tapped the map. “Here. I’m almost certain.”
Hatcher glanced at the map and nodded. “That would be about where we saw the lights. Does this show the roads?”
Hollis shook his head. “Do you know them?”
Hatcher glanced out the window, then looked back toward the other trucks. “Go back about two miles. You’ll take the first left that we come across.”
Hollis turned to the driver. “Turn us around and radio the other transports. Fill them in on the plan. We got work to do.”
Stain pulled his bike to the side of the road and studied the burned out remains of a house. Judging by the neighborhood, he assumed it had once been a pretty nice place. “Probably had four bedrooms. Maybe a den.” He glanced at his idiot partner. “I bet the old lady was screwing the pool boy while her husband was at work.”
The imbecile chuckled and nodded. “Probably. Or maybe she was doing her tennis instructor, right, Stain?”
“Sure, shithead. Why not.” He killed the engine and stepped off the bike. “I wonder if this is the smoke that Squirrel seen?” He walked toward the charred remains, his eyes constantly scanning for infected people.
He relaxed slightly when he approached what was left of the front porch and didn’t hear any screams. He glanced over his shoulder and shithead was still straddling his bike. He kicked at what was left of the front door and wasn’t surprised when the entire thing fell inward.
He stepped onto the solid wood door and bent low. He picked up a piece of charred wood and crumbled it in his fingers. “This thing burned a long time ago.” He let the charcoal drop from his hand and stood. “This ain’t what Squirrel saw. It would still be smoldering.”
He turned and marched back toward the bike. As soon as he straddled it his radio barked. He pulled it from his jacket and keyed the mic. “Tell me you found something.”
“Baby Bird, we found a burnt-up gas station, but this thing has been here for a while.”
“You sure, Dirty Bird? How can you tell?”
The radio squawked again. “There’s a sapling growin’ in the middle of it. Pretty sure it would have burnt up with the rest of it if it was recent.”
Stain sighed then suddenly perked. “Are there any tire tracks near that gas station? Can you tell if Momma Bird had been there?”
“That’s a big fat negatory, Baby Bird. The only tracks I see is ours.”
Stain pressed the radio to his forehead and squeezed the black box in frustration. “Keep looking.”
“We’re on it.” The radio went silent and Stain shoved it back into his jacket.
“This town is huge, Stain. Leads plum into Albuquerque. We could be searching for days.”
Stain nodded as he kicked off his motorcycle. “Then we look for days.” He shot the man a dirty look. “And if we don’t find him, we search for weeks.”
“But what if he got et?”
He turned and gave him a hateful glare. “They ain’t gonna eat his ride, man. We find the Indian, we find Squirrel. If we don’t find Squirrel, then we can assume he got et.”
Shithead nodded, the logic slowly sinking in. He kicked his bike into gear and pulled out behind Stain. He really didn’t want to ask him what they’d do if Squirrel hid his bike or parked it in some garage before he got et.
“He was working on the virus before the outbreak!” Vivian’s face was nearly red from running to the Command Duty Officer. “We have to find out where he was doing his research and get his papers.”
The man shook his head. “We have no idea where Captain Andrews was assigned before the outbreak. If he was working on the virus it was surely at some black operation lab.”
“There has to be a record somewhere.” The desperation in her voice wasn’t missed. “Just…radio Captain Hollis and he can stop by wherever the lab was and pick up the research.” She stepped closer to the man and lowered her voice, “We are this close to finding the answer. I just k
now that research will help put us over the top.”
The man sighed and gave her a solemn look. “As I’ve tried to explain Doctor LaRue, we have no way of knowing where he was assigned. And if we could find out, who’s to say it isn’t overrun with Zeds.”
She clenched her jaw and glared at him. “I want to speak to your commanding officer.”
“That would be the captain of the ship, ma’am and he’s currently in video conference with the fleet admiral. I can’t interrupt—”
“You can and you will. Or I will.” She planted her hands on her hips. “Surely somebody in this flotilla knows where Andrews was working. Or they can find out.”
The Command Duty Officer groaned and threw his hands in the air. “Fine. You know what? I’ll check into it. I can’t guarantee you anything, but…I can make a few calls. Maybe Colonel Vickers can—”
“Yes! Colonel Vickers was working with Andrews. Surely he knows!” She urged him forward. “Call him. Now, please.”
“But I’m afraid I have some bad news.” She looked to him expectantly and he shook his head. “We’ve lost contact with the helicopter that Captain Hollis and his men were on. We know that the team was dropped at the LZ, and we have reason to believe they were about to be picked up but…”
“But what?” Her eyes were wide with fear. “Lieutenant, we need that primordial sample.”
“I understand that, ma’am, and we have people trying to restore radio contact, but…it doesn’t look promising.”
“Why not?”
He blew his breath out hard. “We believe the chopper was lost. Possibly with all hands.”
“Then send another chopper.” She heard her voice rise in pitch and volume and had to force herself to lower it. “Seriously, Lieutenant, that sample is paramount to us finding a lasting cure. We have treatments we’re testing, but in order to find an actual cure, we need that sample.”
“Understood, ma’am, and that is what the captain is discussing with the fleet admiral. As soon as we know something I’ll let you know.” He gave her a solemn look. “And I promise you, I’ll try to contact Colonel Vickers and find out where your Captain Andrews was working. If we can restore contact with the retrieval team, and if the operation is approved, I’ll talk to the captain about redirecting the team to get the research.”
“Thank you, lieutenant.”
“Don’t thank me yet. That’s a lot of if’s, maybe’s and possibly’s. I make no promises.”
She felt the tension leave her shoulders as soon as he turned and walked away. If there was any hope left, it all rested on what the chain of command decided to do next. She prayed they had the foresight to do the right thing.
Roger rode away from the warehouse and did his best to avoid the intersection where Henry and Wally were parking the box truck. He didn’t want to leave any tracks on the road leading to the warehouse. He couldn’t risk any of Simon’s men spotting them.
He went the long way around the block and came back out on the main road. He pulled to the shade of an overhang and parked his Indian. Slipping off the bike, he listened for any kind of sound. Satisfied there was nothing close by, he mounted his bike and rode by the box truck. Without studying the road very hard he couldn’t tell that anything had been moved since the outbreak.
The burned-out shell of the Civic still sat at the station, but it could have happened weeks ago. He smiled to himself and goosed the throttle. He actually enjoyed the feel of the wind on his face as he rode through the empty town.
He slowed at a blocked intersection and weaved the bike between wrecked cars. He exited the other side and moved to the left lane to avoid the line of cars parked in the road. Farther up he discovered the cause of the blockage.
There had been another wreck and a firetruck blocked nearly both lanes. He studied the scene for a moment and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. This would be the perfect place to form a trap.
He held the front brake of the bike and revved the engine, sliding the ass-end of the Indian around. He released the brake and shot in the other direction as screaming infected lunged from the sides of the road.
Squirrel wasted no time. He opened the throttle and leaned low on the bike, doing his best to streamline his form and give the would-be attackers a smaller target to swing at.
He was approaching the first intersection with the wreckage when a lone figure stepped in front of him. It held something in its hands, and for a moment Squirrel feared that the creature was going to launch himself directly into his windshield.
He weaved the bike first left, then quickly to the right in an attempt at avoiding the creature making the standoff.
Just as he shot past the red-eyed bastard, it threw something at the bottom of his motorcycle. Squirrel felt the back-tire bump over the obstruction and he quickly accelerated away. He weaved through the wreckage again, then stopped on the other side of the intersection.
He turned and looked back. The creature was picking up the piece of pipe it had thrown. It took Squirrel a moment to realize…it had tried to throw the pipe into his back wheel, stopping him dead on the road. He glanced at the creature and the look it shot back at him turned his blood cold. The creature hefted the pipe into the air and screamed, his arm pumping up and down as he shook the pipe at him.
Squirrel kicked the Indian into gear and quickly put as much distance as he could between himself and the infected.
He felt his stomach twist as he realized how close he had come to not only wrecking his pride and joy, but being laid out on the pavement like some leather clad buffet. He had to keep replaying the events in his mind. Could they really have figured out how to stop a motorcycle like that? Were they becoming smarter?
He tried to force the idea from his mind. Surely not. He’d dealt with their kind before. They were constantly in a rampage. They seemed to operate on rage and adrenaline. They weren’t capable of rational thought.
Were they?
He slowed his bike and tried to force his attention on his surroundings. There could be more camped out along the sides of any of the roads. There could be more traps.
He thought of Candy and her group. Were they aware that the Zulus were capable of such things? He felt like he needed to warn them, but…what if it was just a fluke? A poorly-made attempt at knocking him from the bike? What if it was purely accidental that it nearly locked up his wheel? What if he was making more of the situation than it really was? What if…what if they were becoming smarter?
He had to warn her.
He had to let her know some of these murderous abominations were capable of higher thought. He slowed the bike and prepared to work his way back to the warehouse when he suddenly locked up the brakes. He stared ahead and felt his stomach drop again.
“Where the fuck you been?” Stain asked.
Chapter 4
Hatcher stayed in the Humvee with Buck while the military men cleared the house. He turned to Buck and gave him a crooked grin. “I guess you’ll get a real bed tonight after all.”
“Easy now. You don’t want to jinx us again, do you?”
Hatcher gave him a pat on the arm. “No worries, Buck. I think they’ll make sure it’s clear enough that you can sleep with both eyes closed tonight.”
“I’m not sure I remember how.” The kid looked up as Hollis walked out.
“They’re clearing a body. The smell has more or less faded, and there wasn’t a lot left, but we’re going to open the house up and let it air a bit.” He gave Hatcher a knowing look. “It may not do a lot of good.”
Buck nodded. “It was really ripe in there when I rummaged for food.”
Hollis nodded. “You the one that left the mess?”
Buck shook his head. “No, sir. I picked through the mess. Somebody else beat me to it, but I don’t think they were looking for food.” He shrugged. “At least not the kind you and I would eat.”
“Copy that.” Hollis glanced over his shoulder then opened the door to the Humvee. “L
ooks like we’re good.”
Hatcher stepped out and stretched. “So, what’s the plan?”
“We’ll set up perimeter guards and double them come nightfall. We can’t risk them getting the drop on us.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder. “Those damned Hummers make all kinds of noise, so I’m sure if there were any Zeds in the area, they’re screaming our location to all of their crazy buddies.”
“What about a watch for further transports?”
Hollis nodded. “House has a flat roof. We’re gonna set a watch whose only purpose is keeping their eye on the horizon. If he sees anything, he’ll pop a flare.”
Hatcher raised a brow. “Just one flare?”
Hollis shrugged. “We’ll pop one, and if the aircraft doesn’t change position, he’ll keep popping them until we get their attention.” He clapped Hatcher on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ranger. This ain’t our first rodeo.”
Buck followed the pair into the house and was a bit surprised that nobody made an effort to at least kick some of the trash out of the way. The men just seemed to step on or over whatever was in their path. Magazines, scattered papers, ruined groceries, couch cushions…none of it mattered if it didn’t directly relate to their mission.
He watched as men set up at windows and doorways at the corners, settling in to keep watch for trespassing zombies. It took him a few moments, but he found his neck and shoulders relaxing as he realized he didn’t need to stay on guard. He sat cautiously on the edge of the couch and leaned into the overstuffed back. He could feel the stress of the day releasing and he closed his eyes. Although it was still daylight out, he slipped into slumber.
Hatcher caught a glimpse of the young man sleeping and nodded to Hollis. “I met him when all of this went down. We think his mom was either the first or nearly the first to be infected. She spread the virus all through the park and one of my best friends got infected putting her down.” He tried not to remember the crunch of bone under his blade as Mitch’s death popped into his mind. “He took off into the woods just before they nuked the mountain. I really thought he was dead.”
Caldera Book 4: Countdown To Oblivion Page 3