Moe flashed a glance toward the store where her friend lay dead behind the counter. “And we could use a helping hand loading my truck. We can put you to work. Keep you busy.”
She lifted her chin, looking back and forth between him and the captain. Warring emotions played out behind her eyes. But, like Moe, she finally came to the conclusion that she had no real choice.
“Okay, I’ll come with you.” Zoe sighed with what Moe thought was relief. “Let me show you where my guns are.”
She stood and led them inside where she’d been hiding. They pulled aside the tables and opened the door. Inside was a manager’s office with a desk, several chairs, some filing cabinets, and a printer stand. A small computer with neatly stacked papers rested on the surface. A cup of moldy coffee sat by the keyboard.
Snack bags littered one corner of the room, and she showed them where she’d been sleeping on a mattress she’d dragged in from one of the trucks.
A rifle leaned against the desk, and twelve pistols filled one filing cabinet drawer. Moe put the guns into a pack, and they left the kitchen to walk through the store. Zoe spared a glance at her dead friend. She lifted her chin as they stepped over the empty shelves and bodies in the aisles.
Outside, the others looked on as Waki, Rex, Aponi and Casey came to greet the newcomer. Moe stopped and made introductions.
He gestured toward the tall native woman. “This is Aponi, a great warrior. And this is Rex and Casey.”
Rex nodded and offered a friendly smile. Casey came forward and held out her hand. “Former Denny’s waitress turned warrior.”
Zoe grinned and accepted the handshake.
“And this is my sister, Waki.” He turned to the short Navajo woman with the choppy hair and thick bandage wrapped around her head.
“Everyone, this is Zoe. She’s had a bit of a rough time of it, but she wants to help us scavenge.”
The silence grew as the newcomer regarded the others. She seemed more excited than afraid, probably a good thing.
Waki stepped forward with a bright expression, gesturing at her nose. “I love the piercing. Very cool.”
“Thanks,” Zoe said, sheepishly. “I’ve got some tattoos, too.”
“Even cooler. I want to see them. You should ride with us in the rig.”
Waki threw her arm around the girl’s shoulders and turned her toward the truck, their voices carried away by the wind.
Melissa turned to Moe. “Do you need to trade out trucks or anything? I mean, in case yours was damaged in the fighting?”
“No. My rig is just fine,” he replied. “Let’s get moving.”
Chapter 29
Moe, Las Vegas, Nevada
“What are we looking for?” Waki asked from the sleeper cab.
“A large warehouse full of food,” Moe replied. He stared up at the smoke rising from the city skyline. “Preferably on the outskirts, so we don’t have to venture too far in. I’m thinking about the Amber Hill Distribution Center coming up on the left. I picked up a few loads from there over time.”
“That place is huge,” Zoe acknowledged from the back where she sat next to his sister. “Jeanine used to work there. She said they ship everything out of that place. Food, televisions, hot tubs, army rations.”
Moe was already nodding. “I thought so. That will be our first stop. We’ll swing by, load up, and get the heck out of there.”
“We should check Nellis Air Force Base,” Melissa said with a glance to their left. “It’ll be on our way out of the city. There are over eight thousand people stationed there. Hard to believe they would have vanished.”
“It’s been four weeks,” Moe said, casting a doubtful eye in that direction. Some smaller trails of smoke drifted up from where Melissa looked. “That’s a long time. Anything could have happened. With everything failing, those eight thousand people could have been overwhelmed or simply left town.”
She’d been trying to raise the base with Moe’s radio on the way in, but all they’d received were squelches of noise and oddly-coded banter that was clearly not military.
“We’ll load up first,” Moe assured her. “Then we’ll drive through the base. If we see someone friendly, we’ll stop. Otherwise, we’re heading straight back to Chinle.”
“I’m on board with that,” Melissa nodded.
Moe drove to the next exit and pulled to the end. A pair of cars appeared on the opposite side of the highway and sped past, and a van peeled off somewhere to their right.
They’d seen an uptick in vehicles for the last five miles, though none of it could be called traffic. They mostly sped to wherever they were going, not bothering to look around. He’d seen a semi-trailer truck pull out of a truck stop up the road and two sedans flying across a fast-food parking lot away from it.
The rest was wreckage. A car had driven through the front window of a restaurant off to the right, and other accidents dotted the streets. Distant spatters of gunfire deepened his sense of dread.
He lifted his two-way radio and spoke into it. “Look lively,” he said, and Rex waved from his driver’s seat.
Moe took the exit ramp and turned left at the end. He cruised over the expressway on a bridge and entered North Las Vegas. He came upon a string of fast-food places on his right, and a massive subdivision sprawl behind that. Fires had engulfed at least one section of homes days or weeks ago, and they still smoldered beneath the hot desert sun.
A warehouse district squatted off to his left. Some big bay doors lay flung open, and he caught glimpses of furtive movements deep in the lingering shadows. The cityscape felt like a tomb as they cruised through a catacomb of houses, buildings, and businesses overgrown with grasses and vines.
“Careful,” Melissa said, nodding ahead.
Moe looked toward the passenger side to see a dozen people standing on a street corner near a shopping center. They wore haggard clothing and carried an odd assortment of weapons: baseball bats, chains, machetes, swords, and handguns tucked into their waistbands.
They must have seen the truck as a big juicy target, because one man gestured to the others, and they walked into the street to intercept them. Melissa rested the barrel of her carbine on the door edge and lowered her gaze on them. Moe glanced into his left mirror to see the Chinle folks hunched in the truck bed, their weapons out and ready.
The group saw the array of weaponry deployed against them and drifted back to the corner.
Moe shook his head and sighed before turning his attention to the warehouses once more. “If I remember correctly, the turnoff should be up here.”
They passed two more streets, then he swung them onto the next left and cruised past a rambling campus with a sign reading College of Southern Nevada.
Beyond the school, another subdivision hunkered, and he noted groups of people walking the streets, gathered in yards or on corners. Moe counted fifty or more, all regarding his rig and Rex’s truck with dark, speculative looks.
Yet, they didn’t pursue or otherwise bother them.
Moe had expected two things upon entering Las Vegas. They would meet no resistance, or they’d be attacked right away. He wasn’t prepared for a half-dead city, still with a pulse but on the verge of collapse. Not a silent tomb like Ft. Collins, but not a thriving place with tourists, either. The crisis had frozen it somewhere in between.
Moe tamped down on a flare of dread in his gut. Once they got in, they might not leave so easily. Yet, he couldn’t turn around without the food. To return home empty-handed was to invite in death.
“I think it should be up here,” Moe said. On his right, three massive warehouses cropped up. They were wide and flat and long, at least eight hundred thousand square feet each.
“Wow,” Waki said from the back seat. She stared into the lots as they passed them, packed with abandoned trucks, vans, and other delivery equipment. “I’ll bet we could fill up ten trailer loads in this place.”
“Try five hundred,” Moe said, scoffing.
His eyes sc
anned the rooftops to see if anyone watched them, but he detected no one. “With all the subdivisions around, you would think people would be swarming this place.”
“Something must be keeping them away from it,” Melissa added.
They came to a break in the curb, and Moe pulled his rig into the lot followed by the pickup. He read the situation, driving around back where he might find an empty bay.
“You see anything open?” Melissa asked as her eyes roamed the lot. Fifty semi-trailer trucks filled the lot. Some were parked in the center and abandoned. Others were backed up to docks with their trailer doors thrown open.
“There’s one,” Moe said, pointing off to his right. He stopped in front of an empty bay door, put the rig in reverse, and expertly backed into the spot. Rex parked in front of the rig and everyone disembarked. They looked around with suspicious expressions, none of them seeming to believe the warehouse was such easy pickings.
Moe left his rig idling and reached for his door handle.
A flurry of activity exploded around them. Two military Humvees shot forward from between the parked rigs across the street, shedding covers as they raced toward Rex and his retreating people. They screeched to a stop twenty yards on either side of the pickup, blocking them in.
One mounted machine gun pointed at Rex’s truck while another swung in Moe’s direction and aimed right at the cab. Moe glanced in his side mirror to see the bay door roll up and two dozen soldiers leap from the back. They spread out and surrounded the rig.
“Now we know why no one wants to mess with the facility,” Moe murmured to Melissa.
She seemed unfazed and sat calmly with her hands up. “I’m Captain Melissa Bryant, US Marines,” she announced out the window as the soldiers came up.
“Good to know, Captain,” one man said in a professional, staccato tone. “Please step out of the truck. Do you have any weapons?”
“Rifles and pistols, yes,” she replied.
“Out of the truck, sir,” a soldier shouted into Moe’s window, grabbing his door handle and jerking it open.
He threw up his hands. “Staff Sergeant, Moe Tsosie,” he announced, following Melissa’s lead.
The soldier gave Moe’s stained jeans and longish, greasy hair a glance and scoffed. “Just get out of the truck. You, too, ladies.”
Frowning, he stepped down into the arms of two men who frisked him, took his pistol, and guided him to the dock door. They ascended a short set of stairs into the shipping area. Chains rattled and clanked as the big door rolled shut behind them and cut off the sun.
*
As they’d all hoped and expected, the warehouse floor was massive beyond compare. Rows of racks loomed on their right and left, stretching to the other side of the gargantuan structure.
The dim lights from above were too paltry to make out much, though Moe instantly spotted palates of goods like Zoe had mentioned on their ride in. There were wide boxes with flat-screen televisions, smaller cases of canned products, fabric softener, office supplies, and dry food stores. He caught sight of a skid high up marked with Angel Touch Essential Oils logo, for all the good those would do them.
The soldiers were brisk but not harsh as they guided them to the middle of the loading bay and stopped. They encircled the thirteen, and the man who’d removed Moe from his rig took a wide stance in front of Melissa.
“I assume you’re the leader here, Captain?”
“Yes,” she nodded. Then she pointed to Moe. “Myself and that man there.”
“Very well,” he agreed. “I’m Captain Newhaven. If you two could follow me, we’ll take you to Colonel Lopez-Reyes.” The captain lifted his voice for the others. “The rest of you can have a seat. If you need to use the facilities, please speak with the corporal there. She’ll take care of you.”
A soldier stepped in to replace Newhaven, and the man gestured for Moe and Melissa to follow. The pair fell in line with two guards close behind.
As they walked, Moe craned his neck to gaze into the rack heights, specifically looking for food items they would love back in Chinle. He took a mental inventory of baby formula, energy drinks, and skids stacked with rice. All of it hinged on the uncertainty of dealing with this new colonel.
Would she be gracious? Would she kick them out?
They approached a wide section of office space filled with more soldiers and guards. A group of soldiers to the far right drilled quietly while another jogged past with plodding boots.
His hopes rose. If the military truly had control of the city, they might have more warehouses. They might even have links to other towns and a connection to the west.
Surely, they could spare one truckload of goods for the people of Chinle.
“This way,” Newhaven said, and he angled them to a door. He grabbed the handle and threw it open for them, giving Moe and Melissa room to step inside an air-conditioned cubicle space.
A bustle of officers filled the room, and pairs of eyes turned on them as Newhaven led them between the partitions to a closed door at the back. He knocked on the door, paused, and opened it just wide enough to stick his head inside.
“Another group of scavengers, Colonel.”
“Did they give you any trouble?” The voice was female with a Hispanic accented.
“They came peaceably,” Newhaven replied. “One is a Marine Captain.”
“Bring them in.”
The man stepped inside and gestured for the pair to enter. Melissa slipped in first, and Moe followed. The room was sparsely decorated, devoid of pictures or furniture. An American flag hung from a staff behind the desk, its stripes running downward toward the floor. Off to their right stretched a map of Las Vegas across a whiteboard. The city appeared sectioned off and marked with various pins and colors.
A stout woman in military fatigues with hard black eyes stood from the desk. Her silken sable hair was cut sharply at the shoulders, her posture perfectly square with her hands clasped behind her back.
She didn’t offer any other form of greeting but stood there staring at the pair. Her eyes settled on Melissa.
“I assume you are the captain?”
“Captain Melissa Bryant,” she saluted.
“Colonel Emilia Lopez-Reyes.” The colonel returned the gesture, and the two women fell into more relaxed postures. “What brings you to our neck of the woods, aside from trying to loot this warehouse? And massively, too. They tell me you drove in an eighteen-wheeler.”
“Yes, ma’am. We came from Chinle, Arizona, looking for supplies to feed the town.”
“Chinle? That’s the Navajo city under Colonel Humphreys’s direction, if I’m not mistaken? I believe his people were protecting a FEMA camp there.”
Moe bristled at the assumption the town was under the control of anyone but the tribe elders.
Melissa nodded. “Were, colonel. He’s not in charge there anymore.”
“What happened?”
“It’s fallen under control of the refugees.” She shook her head as if trying to find a way to describe the wild situation.
“Refugees?” Lopez-Reyes narrowed her eyes. “Explain.”
“The entire camp, and all its assets, are now under the control of a man named Carver and his followers. They call themselves the Venom and Light Commune.”
The colonel’s eyes bore into the captain. “A cult overran a fully functioning military facility led by a competent and decorated colonel?”
“The situation in Chinle degraded after two weeks of refugee influx,” Melissa explained. “The camp grew overcrowded, then a spore breakout occurred.”
Moe butted in, unable to help himself as the horrible memory returned. “Colonel, my name is Moe Tsosie. I’m a former marine staff sergeant, and I was there when the infection took hold. Dozens, maybe hundreds of infected people attacked the guards. Looking back, I think Carver planned it all along. The soldiers panicked and started shooting. It was chaos.”
Lopez-Reyes turned her dark eyes on Moe. “And what about Hump
hreys?”
“I met Colonel Humphreys,” he continued, “and I respected the man. Now he’s dead, murdered by Carver and his people. This cult is not to be taken lightly.”
“I didn’t hear about this on the military band,” Lopez-Reyes deferred to Melissa.
“There was no way to reach anyone right away. Window Rock was locked down and wouldn’t intercede on Chinle’s behalf. By the time I showed up, the town elders were in the process of moving their citizens into the canyons.”
“Chinle boasts a sizeable population, if I remember correctly.”
Moe nodded and edged forward, though he still kept a respectable distance. “Over forty-five hundred people, now dwindled to thirty-six hundred. That’s why we’re here. To gather food for the folks in the canyons. We were only looting as a last resort. Thousands will starve in a matter of weeks if we don’t bring something back.”
Lopez-Reyes gave him a longer, more appreciative look before turning back to Melissa. “Where were you stationed before Chinle, Captain?”
“I was assigned to Edwards Air Force Base under General Walsh. I was on the front lines when the spore clouds hit. We tried several rescue operations along the coast before realizing it was a lost cause.” Her chin fell. “I watched thousands die. Some survivors accepted our help, but others turned on us.”
Lopez-Reyes nodded her head like she understood.
“We cut our losses and began moving assets inland, helping wherever we could. General Walsh assigned me to Chinle, but Colonel Humphreys was already dead, and Carver had taken control by the time I arrived. That’s when I ran into Moe.”
“She saved my life,” Moe added.
A faint smile crossed Melissa’s lips before she continued. “With the satellite equipment and fuel under Carver’s control, I had no way to get word to General Walsh or return to base. So, I focused on helping the Chinle folks.”
“And that’s why you’re here,” Lopez-Reyes pointed out. “You’re a good soldier, Captain Bryant. And you’ll be happy to hear Edwards Air Force Base is still there and doing fine. I’m not sure what their operations are, but I can get you in contact with them.”
Spore Series | Book 4 | Exist Page 29