Infected World Trilogy (Books 1-3): They Only Come Out At Night

by Guenther, David

  “Lt Fotos is in Intel. Follow the hallway all the way to the opposite side of the building, then take a right. You’ll see the signs, Sir.” Caleb noticed the hallway was filled with boxes from the previous occupants, I wonder if the original owners will ever get cured and bitch about their crap being thrown out? Caleb mused.

  A sign with a hand drawn picture of a spy in a trench coat with Intel written under it hung over a door. No cipher lock or buzzer to be let in was visible, so Caleb walked in. Inside was a small cube farm of a dozen partitioned desks. The place was appeared devoid of life. “Lieutenant Fotos?” Caleb asked in his regular voice. Ann’s head popped up like a mole out of its hole from the opposite side of the cube farm.

  “Great of you to show up, come on back.” Caleb walked to her cube, noticing most cubes were totally empty.

  “Why’s your cube so far back when there’s so few of you?” He asked as he suppressed a laugh. Her cube was filled with tiny toy police figures and badges.

  “Long story. I have to stay until someone comes back, then we can work on the mission outside. I received an email from Captain Conrad. He’s assigned three of his men to our team. They’re the crew to the armored car. We’re also getting a junior geek from space command, special operations, to work some new sat gear our vehicles are being outfitted with. Unless you know somebody, I’ll just have personnel assign the rest of the team, a driver and assistant driver for the heavy truck and the driver and gunner for the second light tactical truck.”

  “Actually, I know a security forces type, I’d like to get on the team, Senior Airman Wetzel. He’s...”

  “He’s on the team already, small Air Force.” Fotos interrupted.

  “Well, let’s find him, and get him to recommend the team for the second light tactical truck, instead of hoping we get lucky then. We can load the vehicles and practice driving in a convoy. I’m thinking we bring canned food and fuel along with assorted ammo. A good part of the truck cargo will be just fuel, so we can make it back here. The heavy truck will suck diesel like a sponge.”

  “We can head over to their headquarters since it’s in the building.” Fotos pulled out a map of the building and pointed to where they were now. That was listed as ‘Classroom 4’ with ‘Intel’ written over it. On the far side of the map, ‘Indoor Firing Range’ was crossed off and ‘Security’ written in. You can head over there now. I have to wait for someone to come back since there’s classified laying out everywhere. My old boss would have had a coronary.” Fotos replied.

  “Uh, what secrets are there anymore? The Iranians were nuked, the Chinese are Zs and the Russians are Zs. Who’s left?” Caleb asked.

  “Things are more dangerous than ever before, Caleb.” Fotos stood and turned slightly to the side so he could see she had a 9mm holstered and a carbine leaned against her desk. “These aren’t for the Z, either!”

  A chill went down Caleb’s back as he thought of the truck driver that poisoned him, and then the work detail that he was wounded in. Were they related or are things so screwed up there’s even more threats out there? He wondered, not noticing Fotos was still talking.

  “…if you get done with Captain Conrad before I get there, just come on back over here and we can go over the list of supplies I think we should take.”

  “Um, sure, Annie. Catch ya in a few.” He ducked out the door laughing, knowing it pissed her off to be called ‘Annie’.

  Conrad didn’t look up when Caleb entered. “I knew I was going to see you today. Did you know they took away my best surviving Guardian team? I have a feeling you’re going to need them, or I’d have argued for them to assign Strykers for your team. Sit down here.” Conrad was the only one in the office.

  “Amazing how quickly things get into a routine. Everyone bailed for their lunch hour like nothing happened during the last week.” Conrad dropped his voice and continued, ensuring no one could be listening. “Something about your team going to Arizona doesn’t set right for me, especially this early with everything going on the way they are. I believe things will be fluid for at least a few months as different groups take power and reinforce their authority. We send you in and ‘recognize’ a local faction as being in control, and then another group seizes power. Where does that leave us? Do we go in and risk people and resources to prop them up? Or do we just accept it, and look weak and ineffective? We’ll need food from there, but not for a while. On the other hand, whoever takes control there will need fuel that only we can provide. Most fuels will only store for about a year at most, so unless groups down there have cavalry units, they’re going to want gas in their tanks, and oil for their motors.” Caleb began to feel queasy as he listened and saw the logic in what the captain was telling him.

  “There has to be a reason for sending us as early as they are. Maybe they want to avoid bloodshed by establishing a strong presence there with us.”

  “Son, without local support, you’re nothing more than a speed bump. Even up here, we’re in the thousands and growing every day as both civilians and military personnel make their way in. We are weaker than you can imagine. We try to recover more land every day. Do you know what that means?”

  “Uh, we’re consolidating our area of control?” Caleb answered more as a question than an answer.

  “It means we’re more spread out with every small village or town where we take control. I’m afraid we are going to wake up one day to folks that don’t appreciate the way things are being run. It might not happen as long as we act as a protecting presence and not an occupational force. The general’s done a good job in my opinion so far. The lights are on and the trains are running.”

  “So, if we find a strong group in Arizona, we should support it even if they are not following the same ideas we’re sworn to uphold?” Caleb asked, further confused.

  “You have to look at yourself as an arm of the General. When you speak or act, you represent the general. You’re not a couple of lieutenants and enlisted men, you’re the long arm of the general and through that you derive your power and authority. You don’t make decisions on his behalf but you do gather information and do what you need to do to protect your own command from all enemies. Just learn what you can from Lieutenant Fotos, you’re going to be spending plenty of time in the truck together. Use that time wisely.” Caleb felt even more useless towards the mission and wondered what else could or would go wrong.

  “Any other advice for the mission, Captain Conrad?” Caleb didn’t even notice he’d reverted back to using Conrad’s rank.

  “Be ready to go bear hunting. Take as many weapons, and as much ammo as you can, for each vehicle. No animals mess with a porcupine. If someone tries to mess with you, well, you give them a bloody nose. It’ll save lives later. You have personal weapons and vehicle mounted weapons; add some LAWs (Light Anti-Tank Weapon)and grenades, anything that makes the other guy decide not to mess with you. If you can find a flame thrower, take it with you!”

  “A flame thrower?” Fotos looked at the two, smiling, from the hallway.

  “Perhaps one per vehicle, they can be a bitch to carry any distance. But I think you get the idea. As a matter of fact, I even have something for you both. I found these when I was helping clean out our section of the building. Conrad picked up two cardboard boxes from the floor. “These should be fun to have on your trip.” He said as he pulled out a yellow cylinder-shaped object the size of a soda can from the box. “Each box has twelve tear gas grenades, this is the good stuff that includes irritants. While your target is crying with snot running down his face, he’ll be feeling this in every pore, especially between his legs and under his armpits. So if the jokers get masks on in time, they’ll still be feeling it, especially any Zs since you confirmed they have a more acute sense of smell. If there’s anything else I can do for you, just let me know.” Conrad shoved the two boxes into Caleb’s arms.

  “Where can we find Senior Airman Wetzel? We want to go over the mission with him.” Fotos asked.

  “He
’s over at the new motor pool, just off the highway as you head to the airport. The place was a huge truck repair yard previously. Some of the family and workers survived and are more than happy to have us working in their repair facility. Your people are doing a combination acceptance inspection and pre-mission inspection of their vehicles before accepting them for the mission.”

  “Thank you for all your help, Captain Conrad.” Lieutenant Fotos saluted the Captain as Caleb tried to juggle the boxes in order to salute also. “Come on, Caleb, before you hurt yourself.” Fotos said jovially.

  Chapter 33

  Surprise, Arizona, April 8, 2029

  Gloria sat on her bunk and prayed for guidance and forgiveness as she contemplated murdering a fellow Air Force Officer, along with the realization she most likely would not survive the day and the best she could hope for was a quick death.

  Opening the door to her room, she saw Master Sergeant Hale sitting in a chair propped on its back two legs. He rose immediately when he heard her door begin to open. “Ma’am, I know better than to try and talk you out of whatever plans you’ve made. I have a little going away gift for you.” Hale pulled out an orange tool that fit into his big palm nicely. He moved his thumb slightly and Gloria was looking at a four inch knife blade. “This is an old MC-1 Knife, most are junk, this one has been well cared for. I’ve carried this for fifteen years and managed to keep a pretty good edge on the blade.” Hale closed the blade and slid the tiny bar that locked the blade shut before handing it to Gloria.

  “Ma’am, you slide that tiny bar out, then you click the button and let go of the button immediately, or the blade won’t lock in place. Go ahead and try it.”

  The knife seemed bigger in her hand as she used her thumb’s finger nail to slide the tiny bar, then the center of her thumb to push the release button. The blade quickly snapped into place. She was disappointed in the size but appreciated the feel in her hand; her grip was solid around the orange knife handle.

  “Thank you, Ray.” Hale was surprised as Gloria wrapped her arms around him and hugged him closely to her. “We both have things to do, Master Sergeant Hale. Thank you again for the gift, it’s just what I was thinking I needed.” Gloria pulled the door behind her closed and started down the hall as Hale watched her go, at a loss for words for one of the few times in his adult life.

  Gloria surprised herself when she found herself outside of the walls, standing in front of her truck. Numbly she climbed in and fired it up. The soft instrumental jazz was sounding like noise to her, so she turned the music off and headed out. She didn’t hear her troops cheering her off.

  Heading towards Interstate 10, she still was not sure what her plan would be. To just open up on everyone and pray for the best results didn’t feel like an option. Once on the interstate she looked to her left and decided to pay a visit to the mall. The big chain drugstore on the end of it made her think of her Grandma with her eye troubles. She’d often ride along as her grandma would pick up her glaucoma medications. It never got old watching the old woman’s pupils shrink after taking her eye drops. A plan began to form in her head.

  The front door to the drug store was unlocked as she made her way in. The shelves had all been knocked over and there was fired brass on the floors mixed with dried blood puddles. She could feel hundreds of infected throughout the store. The further away from the glass door she walked, the less destruction she found. The corner with the pharmacy had dozens of infected nesting among the shelves of drugs. Most of them looked at her confused, trying to figure out what she was doing there, and why she was different. Gloria brushed by those who stood in her way, no longer afraid of the infected. She found the refrigerator and opened it up, amazed there was no smell. She went through the drugs until she found the eye drops she was looking for. Thank you, Granny for having cataracts and glaucoma she thought as she put the tiny box in her uniform pocket. A male stood in front of her, blocking her way. She knew instinctively she could take him if he made trouble, but felt pity instead of fear or anger. She stepped around him and was relieved when he didn’t pursue her. She made a mental note to return (if she were still alive) and clean out all the goodies that remained in the pharmacy.

  The clothing store next to the drug store was one she would never look at twice since the window displays looked like everything inside was for strippers and prostitutes. Gloria laughed as she looked at some of the items on display until she found a pair of Daisy Dukes shorts, and then a white peasant blouse. She stripped on the spot and tried them on, embarrassment changing to empowerment as she saw a beautiful black woman looking back at her from the mirror. The shorts looked like they were painted on and needed more paint as her cheeks were exposed. The peasant blouse she left untied, exposing her huge cleavage. She tried on a pair of black stilettos, imagining using the heel to kill the major, but decided on a strappy pair of sandals that would not have her tower over the men, and that she might be able to run in. She dumped her own uniform and clothing in a huge bag, then looked at herself in the mirror one more time and sighed. She reached behind her and removed her bra and deposited it in the bag as well. At least no one who knows me will ever see me in this outfit, she thought. She picked up a tiny bottle of perfume and took a whiff. Okay just need to do my hair and makeup and, aw screw it, I have what he wants and he’s not going to resist this! She thought as she reached into the bag and found the MC-1 knife and slid it in her front pocket. She took one last look at herself in the mirror and whispered, “Showtime.” Then hurried to get to her truck, ignoring the infected, they all seemed to be getting restless.

  The wind blowing in the open truck windows felt nice as she sped down Interstate 10. Gloria could see the exit ahead for Avondale Boulevard and swallowed hard past the lump that was in her throat. She stopped on the exit and took the tiny box she’d picked up from the pharmacy. Pulling out the bottle, she twisted the top before taking off her sunglasses. The sun burned like a bitch in her eyes. She tilted her head up and did a couple drops in each eye, cursing. Both eyes really burned now as she tried to close them as tightly as possible to take away the burning pain. Granny, I’m sorry you had to go through this, she thought before putting on her sunglasses and opening her eyes. The burning sensation was still as strong as when she took the drops and she had to fight to not try and wipe the drops out of her eyes. Everywhere she looked appeared blurry as her head began to pound. Cautiously, she put the truck back in gear and drove south on Avondale Boulevard. The gray mountains further ahead were indistinguishable from the gray overcast above. After a few minutes she could detect the difference of the mountain from the clouds but things were still blurry and she could feel her tears on her cheeks.

  Without warning, a truck pulled out in front of her, blocking the road. As she slammed on her brakes, the back of the truck fishtailed. She came to a stop inches from the other truck. Before she knew what was happening, a pistol was shoved through the open driver’s door window and up against her head.

  “Shut off your engine and exit the vehicle.” The man’s head was almost in the cab with her and she could almost taste his fetid breath as it washed against the side of her face.

  “I’m Lieutenant Alban. I’m here to see Major Wilson.” The pistol was withdrawn from her face and the door quickly opened as she was jerked from her seat to the pavement below. Falling face first, she barely brought up her arms in time to partially break her fall.

  “You don’t listen well, slut.” The man shouted in her ear as he threw himself onto her back. He lay on top of her and ground himself on top of her.

  “Hey Abdul, go stand behind the truck and wait until I tell you to come back.” He got onto his knees and kneaded the soft flesh of her buttocks that were now exposed from her shorts riding up. “Damn girl, you really made my day. He backed up slightly and was trying to pull Gloria onto her hands and knees, reaching around her to grab at her breasts squeezing each cruelly.

  “You get off the Lieutenant or I’ll stake you out here on th
e road for the Zs to find you when it gets dark.” Major Wilson ordered. Both Gloria and her attacker looked up to see him standing there with a short pump shotgun pointed at them.

  “Yes, Sir. I was checking the prisoner for weapons when she began to struggle…”Wilson slammed the shotgun into the side of his face. Teeth flew along with blood and spittle.

  “Dammit, Henry, I don’t care if you tear off a piece during the day. But you do not hesitate when I give an order, and you do not ever lie to me!” he kicked Henry solidly in the ribs. The man went down and was out.

  “I’m sorry about your welcoming committee, Gloria. Why are you dressed up, or should I say dressed down?” He bent over and gave her a hand to stand up, not hiding the fact he was staring at every inch of exposed skin as he took in her full figure.

  “Tomorrow, when you take command of Sanctuary, I’ll be under your command. There’s rules and regs about fraternization. I wanted to…” Wilson took in the view and stopped her from speaking.

  “Get in my jeep; we’ll discuss this in private.” He looked at the prostrate figure on the pavement. “Abdul, if he’s dead, throw his body in the ditch. If he’s alive, wait till your shift is over and take him to the clinic. Let him know if he misses work tomorrow he’ll miss a lot more than that.” He stormed over to his jeep and waited for Gloria to get in. He smiled as he watched her breasts sway under her peasant blouse as she hurried to catch up.

  What the hell am I doing? Why didn’t I at least grab my pistol from the truck? At least I still have my knife. I’ll have to use it on him quick and grab his shotgun. The feel of the knife in her pocket gave her a sense of confidence as they drove past the barriers into the race track.