Henry snorted. “That jacket is so roughed up, it already looks like there was a struggle.” He climbed down from the pickup and walked into the middle of the kill zone. He snatched the jacket from Roger and slapped it a few times on the dark spots on the ground then slammed the back of the jacket against a jagged piece of metal that had once been a car door, spearing it into place.
“There. That looks struggly.” He turned to Roger and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Now can we please get the hell out of here?”
Roger nodded. He knew there was something he was forgetting. The pair walked back to the truck and he pulled the door open. As soon as his boot hit the step rail, he remembered. “Just a second!”
Roger jogged back to his jacket and dug around the front breast pocket. He pulled out the faded picture of his wife and stared at it for just a moment. He ran his hand gingerly across the side of her face, then slipped it into his shirt pocket.
As he climbed into the truck Henry gave him an odd look. “What did you forget?”
“A reminder of the past.” Roger gave him a crooked grin.
Henry started the truck and pulled slowly away from the trap. Roger stared out the passenger side window and gave a silent farewell to his beloved Indian.
He had accelerated it to the site and stepped off the left side, letting it coast and wobble into the parked cars. He nearly cried when the forks bent around the front wheel and the bike flipped up and to its side next to a blue Nissan.
Surely Simon would realize he must be dead. No biker in his right mind would let his ride get fucked up like that.
He prayed he was right.
He realized that Henry had been talking while he was lost in thought and he had to interrupt him. “Sorry. My mind was somewhere else. What were you saying?”
The large man sighed heavily and pointed to the right. “We cleaned out a grocery store earlier that hadn’t been touched.”
“Seriously?”
He smiled at him. “Heck, yeah. Thing was locked up tight and we cleaned it out…well, as best we could. I’m sure we missed a bunch, but we got all of the good stuff.”
Roger had to smile back. “I wouldn’t have thought there would be anything untouched by now.”
“I know, right?” Henry’s face fell. “We reckon that means that there ain’t no more survivors, though. So, I guess the news isn’t entirely good.”
Roger tried to grasp what he was saying. There had to be close to ninety thousand people in this town, and the few families that made the warehouse home was all that was left?
“How many are you?”
Henry shrugged. “I haven’t counted. Probably a couple hundred if you count the kids.”
“And that’s all that’s left?”
Henry sighed and nodded. “As far as we can tell.” He suddenly perked up. “That don’t mean that there can’t be more groups like us out there…we just ain’t found them.”
Roger tried not to dwell on the idea. Less than one percent of the town’s population still lived. He pushed the thought from his mind. “So, tell me about this Daniel guy.”
“Hatcher? He’s okay, I guess.” Henry slowed the truck for a turn and eyed the biker across from him. “Why you asking?”
“Candy mentioned him. I’m guessing he’s kind of the leader, yeah?”
Henry nodded. “He’s a pretty good guy. He grew up here. Went to college, became a park ranger or some such. I’m pretty sure they said he worked at Yellowstone, but he came home once the shit hit the fan.” Henry pulled the truck up to the chain link gate and nodded to the guards. “He needed to know that his family was okay.”
“I’m guessing they didn’t make it?”
Henry shrugged. “I dunno about anybody else, but the nurse, Vicky? That’s his sister.”
Roger waited until the pickup was pulled into the warehouse and the doors locked behind them.“And now he’s run off with the military trying to find a cure?”
“That’s the word.” Henry shut the engine off and opened his door. “Don’t worry, though. He ain’t pining for Candy.”
Roger did a double-take. “Excuse me?”
Henry shot him a toothy grin. “They’re like oil and water. They work well together, but they don’t mix.” He shut the door and leaned across the open window. “She’s available. If you’re looking.” He shot a wink at the biker, then turned to leave.
Roger wondered why the large man would say something like that. True, he’d flirted with her when he’d first arrived, but he was just trying to lighten the mood. Did everybody think he was serious?
He stepped from the truck and felt the stiffness of the photo in his shirt pocket. His hand brushed the photo and he tried not to feel guilty.
Did he have a reason to feel that way? He saw Candy practically jog across the warehouse and talk to a man with a rifle. He nodded quickly then turned and left. She wrote something down on a clipboard, then turned and walked away.
Roger realized he was checking her out as she left and had to look away. He slammed the door of the truck and marched toward the back of the warehouse.
He flopped down on his makeshift bed and pulled the photo from his pocket. He placed it gently at the head of the mattress and propped it against an old shelf. He stared at his wife’s image and for the first time ever, the pain of her loss didn’t pull the air from him.
He knew it was past time to let go. He just wasn’t sure if he knew how.
Vivian awoke and sat up slowly from her desk chair. She hated falling asleep at work. It always meant she had pushed herself too far and would now pay the price with stiff joints and aching muscles.
She walked out of her office and glanced in at Bren. Vivian stared at her still form for a moment then pushed the door open. She walked over to her and pressed her fingers against the girl’s wrist. She suddenly reached up and pressed against her neck.
She could tell by the coolness of her skin that the young girl was gone. She stepped back and bent her head low, saying a silent prayer.
She spun and entered the lab. “Who was watching Miss Wilkes last night?”
One of the nurses raised her hand. “I just checked on her about an hour ago. Her IV was low so I hung a new one.”
“She’s dead.” Vivian nearly choked on the words. She looked around the room, then settled back on the nurse. “I’ll have to notify her boyfriend. Have you seen him?”
The group shook their heads and the nurse stepped forward. “I haven’t seen him since you had him removed.”
For the briefest of moments, Vivian feared the men had tossed his skinny ass overboard, but she quickly pushed the idea out of her head. She took a deep breath and nodded. “I’ll inform him. Meanwhile, exsanguinate her. We need every drop you can get.”
She turned to leave when the Command Duty Officer pushed the door open. “Dr. LaRue.”
She tried to step past him. “I was on my way out.”
“I just came to inform you…”
She paused at the door and turned to him, her face hopeful. “What did the Colonel say?”
The man pulled her aside and lowered his voice. “He said that he knew exactly where Captain Andrews was performing his research.”
“And?”
“And…they are weighing the options of sending another chopper out to check on the collection team. IF they decide to go, then he sees no reason why they can’t stop at Fort Collins and collect the man’s research.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “He also thought that it was a hell of an idea to dig through his papers. He actually said, ‘Kudo’s to Dr. LaRue.’”
“Kudos?”
He shrugged. “He’s old school, ma’am. I’m confident he was paying you a compliment.”
She stood taller and squared her shoulders. “I want to go.”
The lieutenant’s eyes widened. “Ma’am?”
“If anybody could recognize the research, it’s me. I’d be the perfect choice.”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. Y
ou’re far too valuable to allow—”
“I said I’m going and that’s that Lieutenant. You can inform the colonel of my intentions.”
She spun and marched from the room. He watched her go and wondered aloud, “How do I explain this to them?”
Vicky stared at the calendar and whispered a silent epithet. “Why aren’t you back yet, Daniel?”
“You always talk to yourself?”
She looked up at Candy and gave her a curt nod. “I’m worried about Danny. He should have been back by now.”
Candy leaned against the doorjamb and gave her a soft smile. “He’ll be fine. I know it.”
“How? How can you ‘know it’?”
Candy pushed off the doorway and entered the small infirmary. “This is Daniel Fucking Hatcher you’re talking about.” She gave her a face of false bravado. “The man who single-handedly saved all of us at Ground Zero when the world went to shit. If anybody can handle himself out there, it’s him.” She plopped into Vicky’s chair and shot her a cheesy grin. “Besides, there’s not a person alive that knows that area like he does.”
Vicky sighed and leaned against the wall. Her legs were beginning to tingle from sitting on the floor cross-legged for too long and the files in her lap were unceremoniously dumped to the side. She slowly came up from the floor and let the blood back into her ankles.
“If it was anybody else, I’d probably agree with you. But this is my brother.” She blew her breath out and gave Candy a serious look. “He doesn’t exactly have a strong lucky side to him.”
Candy leaned forward and lowered her voice. “He doesn’t need luck, Vic. The man has skills. Trust me, I saw them firsthand when I was out there.”
Vicky shook her foot and tapped it against the floor when the pins and needles stopped tingling. “I’m sure that to you, he’s ten-foot-tall and bulletproof. To me, he still trips over his own shadow and breaks his arm.” She sighed as she sat on the edge of the desk. “He’s still eight to me.”
Candy snorted. “Trust me, he’s not eight. And he’s not reckless.”
Vicky stared off into the shadows and tried not to dwell on him. She suddenly perked and decided a subject change would do her a world of good. “I wonder how Jason and Bren are doing?”
Candy’s brows furrowed. “The young couple he left with?” She shrugged. “I hope they find a damned cure from them.”
“Me, too.” Vicky bent and picked up the files from the floor. “But I’m not holding my breath.” She slipped them back into the filing cabinet, then slowly turned to face her. “I’ve heard people talking, ya know. They tend to think the virus was created by the government.”
“Pfft!” Candy snorted. “I think that’s giving them too much credit.”
Vicky gave her a sideways glance. “You don’t think it’s possible?”
“Oh, anything is possible. I just don’t think that even our government could create something like that without some idiot blowing the whistle on them.” She stood from the chair and offered it back. “I mean, I could see them trying to weaponize it and all, but I’d bet money that incident at the park was the first time people had ever seen or heard of it.” She shook her head as she remembered how the infected acted. “It was too gruesome, Vic. There’s no way our government would do something like that on purpose.”
Vicky raised a brow. “Have you seen some of the weapons we’ve used? The chemical agents they’ve used?”
Candy held her hand up to stop her. “I don’t want to think about it.” She stepped aside and pushed the door shut. “Look, I didn’t come here to talk about the sins of our government.”
Vicky nodded and shot her a cheesy grin. “You wanted to talk about Roger, didn’t you?”
Candy crossed her arms and raised a brow at her.
Vicky laughed. “Well, didn’t you?”
Candy’s shoulders slumped. “Am I that transparent?”
“Girl, have a seat.”
Chapter 7
Hollis barked orders to his men and pushed Hatcher back from the doorway. “We have incoming.”
Hatcher grabbed Buck and pulled him deeper into the house. “Find a safe place and lay low.”
Buck reached to his hip and pulled out his hunting knife, catching Hatcher’s eye. He raised a brow at the knife. “I didn’t know you had that.”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” He stepped back toward the darkness of the hallway. “You really think I survived out here with just my wits and my swinging cock?”
Hatcher shot him a surprised look. “Easy there, Rambo. You just caught me off guard is all.”
More weapons fire had the pair cringing. Any hopes of keeping their location a secret was blown to hell.
Hollis entered the room and checked the magazine of his rifle. “I radioed for transport.” He slammed the magazine back into the well. “Don’t count on sleeping tonight.”
Buck nodded. “They’re definitely more active after sundown.” He glanced toward a window and a fast-moving blur shot past. “I’d bet money these assholes are scouts.”
Hatcher turned and faced him. “You’re telling me they know to do recon before sending the main force?”
Buck shrugged. “I’ve seen them do it when hunting and—”
“And what?” Hollis barked.
“And before they attack another clan.” Buck pointed to the window. “They’re coming from the woods!”
Hollis spun and fired wildly at the window, shattering the glass and painting the wall with holes.
Buck held his hands over his ears. “Jeezus! Did you have to do that inside?”
“Shut up and take cover, kid!” Hollis pushed past him and pressed against the wall near the broken window. He glanced out and checked both directions. “I’ve got nothing.”
Hatcher stared out the window across the room. “They’re back in the woods.” He brought his rifle up, but stopped short of squeezing the trigger. “They’re gone.”
“Did you get any of them?” Buck asked.
Hollis called on the radio for a sitrep. None of the men reported killing an infected, but there was certainly wounded.
Buck groaned at the news. “If we could have had a body…,” he trailed off.
“What good would that do?” Hatcher asked as he stepped back to the center of the room.
“After they attack another clan, they hang the dead on spikes in the ground. The others won’t come near them.” Buck shrugged as he slid his knife back into the sheath. “I don’t know if it’s just a warning or if they’re scared of it.”
Hollis radioed the men outside to look for a blood trail. If there was a body, he wanted it. He turned to Buck and gave him a hopeful look. “If there’s any chance that hanging a body off the roof will keep them at bay, I’m all for it.”
Hatcher turned at the sound of the approaching Humvee. “Gather the loot and let’s get the hell out of here.”
They rode in silence to the house they had set up as a command post. Hollis continually scanned the surrounding forest. “Eyes open, people. If you spot any of them, I want the body.”
Hatcher carried his bags inside and dumped them unceremoniously on the counter. “Buck, look in the garage and see if you can find anything we can use to hold this crap. A plastic tub, boxes, whatever. If we need to bug out, I want this stuff easy to load.”
“Got it.” He turned for the garage and Hatcher stared after him. He didn’t know why it was so important to him to get this kid safely off the mountain, but he felt it was his mission in life. Maybe it was to make up for his inability to save Mitch? He didn’t want to delve too deeply into his own neurosis.
“I’m sending a patrol out to search for Zeds. If they’re still watching us, I want a body to hang off the front porch.” Hollis stated as he began to reload his magazines.
“Do you really think that’s safe?”
He tapped the magazine on the counter, then slipped it into the pouch on his MOLLE vest. “Safe or not, I want to kno
w if they’re out there.” He lowered his voice and checked toward the garage. “And if the kid is right, and stringing up a dead Zed will keep them away, you damned skippy I want one.”
Hatcher blew his breath out hard. “I can’t see where displaying a body would curtail their attacks.” He made sure that Buck wasn’t in ear shot. “I can see how it might be some kind of warning amongst them, but we’re not infected. We’re their prey.”
Hollis leaned on the counter. “You know, my grandpa had a farm. If coyotes came close, he’d shoot one and hang it on the fence. He said it kept the others away.” He turned and eyed Hatcher. “Do you really think the coyotes cared if it was the old man that shot that carcass and left it? Do you think it would be any less effective if the chickens had done it themselves?” He shook his head. “If it works for the Zeds, it will work for us.”
Hatcher tried not to smile. “Personally, I’d be a hell of a lot more impressed if the chickens did it.”
Hollis gave him a stoic stare. “Well, buddy, in this analogy, we’re the chickens.”
Simon stared at the ruined jacket. He held it up to the daylight and saw the puncture mark through the colors he had given the owner. The leather was jagged where the steel had speared through the spine of the garment.
“There’s no blood inside.” He tossed the jacket aside.
“There was plenty on the ground boss.” Scud shook his head as he handed him a sack with human bones in it. “These were scattered everywhere.”
Simon dumped the bag and his face twisted. “A half-dozen good men lost. And for what?” He kicked the bones out of his path. “A fuckin’ manwich for the ragers.”
Scud fell into step behind him. “We never got word from Squirrel. We don’t know if he tracked down the guy from the truck or not.”
Simon spun on him, his face red with anger. “You really think that’s my priority right now?”
Scud shook his head nervously. “N-no idea, boss. I was just saying.”
“Say it somewhere else.” He turned and stormed away.
Scud turned back to the group and shrugged. “No idea what we’re gonna do.” He glanced over his shoulder at Simon’s retreating form. “I guess, smoke ’em if you got ’em.”
Caldera Book 4: Countdown To Oblivion Page 6