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

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Infected World Trilogy (Books 1-3): They Only Come Out At Night Page 77

by Guenther, David


  “We’re using the procedures for an outbreak, with the only modification being they go to a cot instead of a pile. The pair of you did a fine job. I hear you’re infected, also. The order going out that addressed infected personnel was rescinded by me when the president died. How can I show you my gratitude for what you’ve achieved tonight?” If Gloria was surprised by a two star general complimenting her, she hid it well.

  “A hot shower and clean clothes, I stink.” Gloria replied automatically, without giving it any thought.

  “Done! None of the houses near the school have been moved into yet. Just walk on over to the one you want, and then call it a day. They should all have running water and electricity. I’ll wait until we see the results of your night’s work before we make any other decisions. You did a good job here today, Captain Alban.” General Peters said, smiling broadly. Tomorrow I can be with my wife, and we can start reclaiming America.

  “Sir, I was a First Lieutenant before I quit.” Gloria politely stated.

  “You are now a Captain, your resignation never was processed. Your promotion will be. Now go find yourself a house and take a shower, you stink.” Peters turned to his body guard Staff Sergeant Werner, who was trying to appear as if he hadn’t been listening. “Jody, make sure the Captain doesn’t have any trouble finding her way out of here and to a nice house.”

  “Ma’am, if you’ll follow me I’ll get you out of here ASAP.” And downwind of me as well, he thought.

  Gloria followed the NCO, no longer worried about how she smelled or her appearance. I’m back in the game again. What do I want to do with my career?

  Mr. John Favazza was peacefully sleeping when he awoke in a sweat. Levitating next to his bed was the ambassador to the Organization. The gray creature remained quiet, only blinking its huge eyes occasionally until Favazza addressed it.

  “Ambassador, this is definitely a surprise. Why are you visiting me at this time and in my home? This has never happened before.” Favazza asked.

  “Mr. Favazza, it is a disturbing time. Your president was killed by troops loyal to General Peters. Does he now claim leadership over your country? There are those who would be hesitant to form an alliance with a military dictator. I admit, the general did not strike me as one who would usurp his chain of command. I look forward to hearing what he has to say on the matter. The more important matter is that a rescue ship will make it to your world, I estimate forty-eight hours. They will transfer the survivors from their world back to their ship. I suspect they will use that as an opportunity to start procuring slaves for their world. If there are no survivors, I believe they will not land. Do you understand me, John Favazza?”

  “Yes I do, Ambassador Tomi. I will speak with General Peters as soon as possible. Thank you for bringing this information to me.” Favazza looked at the clock and saw it was 0500 hrs. I guess I have to get moving now, it’s going to be a long day, he thought as he headed for the shower.

  The security in the gymnasium appeared to be overkill. There were a hundred soldiers in full gear lining the walls. The center of the gym held thirty cots evenly spread out. A dozen medical personnel walked among the beds, nervously waiting for the first person to awake. The anxiety was palpable throughout the room for everyone. The woman in the center cot sat straight up, the sheet covering her falling to her waist as she looked around the room at all the soldiers and the medical personnel. She looked down and grabbed the sheet back to her chest. “Dammit!” she swore in embarrassment as relieved laughter flooded the gym. All anxiety vanished as soldiers high fived each other. An obscenity uttered in embarrassment meant the human race was saved. The chatter among the troops began to wake even more of the infected, all lying there, confused and scared. The medical personnel quickly went to each one to take blood samples and to reassure them that they were now okay. Only a few had any knowledge of The Infection.

  Peters wasn’t surprised to have a knock at his office door at 0600 hrs. Lately damn little could surprise him. “Enter!” he replied to the knock. Suzy’s temporary replacement Corp Tudor Jenks popped his head in. “Sir, Mr. Favazza would like an hour of your time.”

  “Let him in, he knows the way, Tudor.”

  “Good Morning, General, or should I say Generalissimo? Are we going to have a military junta from here on out?” Favazza asked.

  “The president took a shot at my messenger when he didn’t like the message. As a matter of fact, three shots to his chest. The personnel with him returned fire and shot the son of a bitch’s head and shoulders and chest off in reply.”

  “What was the message he disliked that much? How did your messenger fare?”

  “The message was that he’s out of a job. It seems he was born in Canada to Canadian parents. Later they moved to the US and became citizens. He could not lawfully be president. He could hold almost any other office, just not that one. The messenger was wearing body armor and came out only a little bruised.” Peters stopped to light his cigarette.

  “How much of an escort did the messenger have for that type of response?” Favazza asked.

  “I think it was about a light infantry company, give or take. You see, early in the morning, his advisor Falstaff whacked Captain Abrams and his nurse, Bunny. It seems he had a cure for The Infection, so they killed him so no one would find out. I’m speculating, but I guess he wanted the idiot to stay president, so he’d keep his job. We think we found the cure and tested it this morning, we’re just waiting for thirty infected to wake up and know for sure. So, what brings you here this early in the morning Mr. Favazza?”

  “Our alien friend the ambassador woke me and asked if we were now under new management with the murder of the president. Oh, and to let us know that in under 48 hours, the DyB’buk will be back to pick up their people and most likely grab a shitload of humans while they’re at it. He said if they are dead, then most likely they will not come back. So we need to get rid of them ASAP.”

  “I wonder how they know all that they do about us, yet get parts of it wrong. Makes me wonder how much of what they tell us is incorrect, whether intentional or unintentional. More importantly, I’ll tell the team they have a deadline for their mission.

  The bed and pillow were nice and wonderfully comfortable, if not a little too scented by the detergents. Caleb felt better than he had in a long time and wanted to fill his belly and run twenty or so miles before he started his day. The fact he was getting his truck back was icing on the cake. He pressed the bed’s buzzer and waited. When a nurse didn’t show, he pulled out the IV that was in his arm and decided to look for her. He practically pounced out of the bed the same time she came through the door, scaring the crap out of her.

  “Sorry about that, ma’am. I was hoping to get something to eat before I found some clothes and went home. I’m all better now.” Caleb said, trying to sound charming.

  “Cured from a concussion and broken ribs? Lay back down and I’ll get you breakfast and get the doctor in here to release you. And show you how badly broken your ribs are, she thought.

  Sgt First Class Hope was feeling like a fake, sending the team out for a run and staying back because he knew he’d collapse if he pushed it. One last mission and I can die with my boots on, not in some damn bed, turning into a vegetable. He was using the time to do one last review of the plan before they reviewed it again as a team. He glanced up when he heard a knock at the open doorway and was surprised to see the general popping in without any heads up.

  “Please come in sir. What are you going to do me out of today?”

  “Time, Sergeant. Time. There’s damn little of it. The good aliens informed me the bad aliens will be here in about forty hours, if those aliens at Travis are still alive. So in thirty nine hours I’m giving the orders to wipe Travis off the map. We need to capture as much of their technology as possible in that time frame. Is that a go or should I just raze the base now?”

  “Sir, you certainly do come at a man with a full load before he’s had his second cup of j
ava to start the day. Get your ops planners and aircrew for two C-130s over here in two hours and we’ll make tracks as quickly as we can. Our main plan is pretty much down, we’ll just advance the timeline. I hear congratulations are in order for finding a cure for The Infection. Should be fun stunning the ten billion infecteds throughout the world.”

  “I just wanted to drop this in your lap personally, Sergeant. Good luck on the mission.” Peters shook hands with the sergeant before leaving.

  “Well, look who’s awake!” Gloria rushed through the room and planted a kiss on Caleb before he could swallow his pancake. “Hmm, you’re sweet, baby,” she said, licking her lips and then grabbing a piece of bacon from his plate.

  “I want to let you know that I forgive you for abandoning me. It was the right thing to do. I was stupid to attack that many.” Caleb said, looking into Gloria’s eyes.

  “You what! Mister, I saved your life! I would have died rescuing you if it wasn’t for the Army stepping in! Take a look at my photo souvenir. One of the Green Beanies took this.” Gloria held out an 8X10 photo of some melted tires and scrap metal. “Do you recognize that?”

  Caleb looked at the photo, recognizing melted tires on three wheels and what might have been part of a vehicle frame. “No, I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

  “That’s what’s left of my truck after rescuing you. Notice the custom paint job? The nice interior? The bad ass sound system? Or maybe that bitchin’ V8 engine? NO, you don’t because they’re gone! Along with all my supplies in the back of the truck! Are you sure you want to say you forgive me for abandoning you?” Gloria was bent over Caleb; her nose was running, and spittle flew from her mouth. Caleb was ready for her to hit him.

  “How about thank you, and I love you.” Gloria looked down on him, absorbing the words.

  “You fool!” Gloria kissed him, not realizing she had tears falling down on his face.

  “Excuse me, Lieutenant Alban? I was sent over to pick you up for the mission brief. We leave tonight.” Sgt First Class Noon said from the doorway.

  “What the hell type of mission are they sending you on?” Caleb asked angrily.

  “The mission they wanted you for, the mission that they sent out a plane and a Special Forces team to Arizona to find you for. Now that you’re stuck in that bed, I’m taking your place.”

  “Well let’s go, then. I’m fully recovered and want to do something. I really don’t like hospitals.” Caleb climbed out of bed, ignoring the paper slippers on the floor and the fact that the gown he was wearing covered nothing.

  “Sir, you need to get back into bed. You have three broken ribs and may still have problems related to your concussion.” The doctor said, blocking the door.

  “I’ll see you later, sweetie.” Gloria blew Caleb a kiss before following the sergeant out the door. Caleb began to see red, but nonetheless climbed back into bed.

  “Doc, unless you can prove to me I have any broken ribs with a fresh x-ray. I’m walking at 1100 hrs.” Caleb slapped his rib cage a couple times to emphasize his point.

  “Are you Tarzan now or just an upset gorilla?” Caleb's heart leapt at the sound of Captain Conrad’s voice.

  “I brought you your clothes and a few goodies.” Conrad held up a fresh set of cammies on a clothes hanger and a heavy duty A3 bag, originally used to carry parachutes, but now used for every purpose imaginable. “I heard you came in with the clothes on your back so I brought some of your field gear and one of your 9 mils. You know you’re going to get in trouble one day for all those weapons in your small armory. That’s for another day though. I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Name it sir,” was Caleb's only reply.

  “We have the cure, or the partial cure, for The Infection. Gloria went hunting last night and brought back thirty infected that she zapped with a taser. So far everyone that woke up is under their own control, like yourself. I need you to make a trip into Casper and loot all the different police stations of their taser pistols, taser batons, and handheld tasers. The building where we have our headquarters had been some type of police academy. I found a couple dozen different types of tasers. I dropped a baton style into your bag there. I plan to make raids on the nearby towns every night after we get enough cured people available.

  “Why wait until night? Just drive to the malls, big stores, and churches to begin with. You can go 24/7 if you do it right. You know, in the end, everyone will need to be infected and cured. Imagine years from now, when this is just a bad memory and someone steals a kiss from the wrong person and turns. Grab the baton and I can infect you now and cure you after you turn.” Caleb broke out laughing, Conrad appeared to be thinking it over.

  “Perhaps a little later, you know it will have to be done. The thing that’s strange is that when the infected are hit with the taser, instead of it being an irritant, it literally drops them for the count. It must be something in the actual infection. When do you think they’ll release you?”

  “If they don’t release me by 1100 hrs, I’m releasing myself. I feel fine after having broken ribs. I bet you still feel that bullet wound you have. I bet it’d heal in under a day if you were infected.” Caleb joshed.

  “You know a couple weeks ago, I’d have probably shot you in the head for talking that crap. Let me go grease the way with the doc to get you out of here.” Two large orderlies entered at that moment, both appeared uncomfortable.

  “We’re here to assist you to x-ray to take a shot of your chest. The closer of the pair said. Caleb literally jumped out of bed, surprising them as they took a few steps back.

  “What’s the matter? Did you think you had to wheel the whole bed down? You can if you want to but, myself, I’m walking.” The senior of the pair looked at Conrad, who just smiled.

  “Fellas, it ain’t worth fighting it. I have two cartons of smokes that say the x-ray won’t find a thing wrong with him. He might be a borderline violent schizophrenic, but that’s another matter. Either of you want to cover that bet?” Conrad asked, “I’ll even sit here and wait for the results since I know he’ll be released as soon as they see the results.”

  Major ‘Arnie’ Arnot was enjoying the moment between crises, drinking a custom coffee he’d never heard of before, lamenting the loss of a special operator sent to Arizona. Now, another special operator had been pulled for a secret mission. The loss of these two, on top of them making Airman First Class White an officer and assigning him special duties, left him as the only one knowledgeable in using the special assets assigned to Space Command’s Special Operations. He would need to transfer operators from other sections to fill in the vital role left open with the loss of those men. Before the apocalypse, Special Operations had ninety personnel and kept the world safe. Now there were four, including him, just as busy searching for threats inside the borders of the US along with the other units under his command.

  “Arnie, I see we don’t keep you too busy if you can just sit there and drink coffee all day. Aren’t you going to offer me a cup?” Arnot looked at General Peters and laughed. Only the general called him Arnie, half fondly and half as a dig. The Major was now used to it, and didn’t let it bother him.

  “How can I help the General today? Besides my rapidly dwindling supply of coffee?” Arnot, handed the general a mug of coffee and waited for the answer. Peters made a point of slowly taking a sip and luxuriating in the flavor until he thought Arnot had been teased enough.

  “I need Thor’s Hammer and Project Blue ready for the day after tomorrow. Thor’s target is Travis AFB. The target for Project Blue you will need to find during the same timeframe. You will be responsible for saving all life on Earth or not. No pressure.” Peters set the empty mug on the desk and motioned with his hands for him not to come to attention as he left. That was fun, time to see if Werner has found a stun gun to use on my ex-wife. I still won’t be able to touch her after she’s cured, though. I wonder how my wife on the east coast is?

  The truck was washed and waxed. The bullet
holes had been filled in with body putty and touched up with matching red paint. However, the crumpled rear quarter panel still sickened him. The interior had been cleaned, the rugs shampooed and he could not remember it looking better. Starting up the truck, he quickly rolled the windows down, because of how strong the smell of chemicals was to him. Ah, back in the saddle again. I wonder if I’ll have enough time to visit the mall again. He didn’t realize he was smiling as he headed west.

  Caleb was in Casper before he knew it and took Exit 188A and followed the signs for Center Street to downtown. Caleb snickered when he found the building, the front of it identified it as The Hall of Justice and there was another sign for Police Vehicles Only to enter the underground parking. The drive was steep and he was relieved there were no accidents or vehicles blocking his way. He pulled up to the elevator and parked in a no parking zone, grinning. I’m in the middle of cop central, parked illegally and no one to do shit about it.

  He heard before he sensed a couple dozen infected running to him, drawn by the sound of his engine. Well, while I’m here, I might as well try out the stick. The stun stick’s end was reinforced to be used as a club, the spine of the stick had exposed metal that flickered blue when he pressed the button.

  Caleb stood still and let the infected approach. They quickly lost interest in him and as they turned to leave he zapped the closest one for less than a second. The woman, wearing part of a police uniform, without a word or noise, quickly fell to the ground like a puppet, with her strings cut. Caleb quickly touched the others as they walked away from him until he had fifteen of them on the ground. That’s a good start, but I need to get the equipment, he thought. The elevator door opened and Caleb dropped to the ground, losing his lunch from the stench of six decomposing bodies, that had been sealed in the elevator. Caleb covered his mouth and nose, removing the bodies as quickly as he could. One still had his belt with his service weapon and taser. Caleb casually removed it and tossed it in the bed of his truck. The handkerchief he tied across his face did not help as he rode the elevator to the first floor. The lobby of the police station was littered with dead bodies and fired brass, bodies that still had their gear, and the gear that the infected ripped off by themselves was in the lobby and scattered back where the offices were located. Caleb picked up a black bag with ‘Police’ stenciled on the side. The bag was the same size as an A3 bag only with exterior pockets and a shoulder strap. Opening the bag, he found a mini AR15 pistol strapped to the inside of the main compartment and twenty loaded magazines. Also in the center of the main compartment was a duty belt, fully loaded. Caleb emptied the bag on the floor, then picked up the duty belt and removed the taser with its holster. Regretfully he moved on, leaving the weapons and ammo behind, to find the armory. The door marked Storage was hanging by a single hinge with dozens of bullet holes in it. He kicked it out of his way and began to look at the shelves and was rewarded by four large cardboard cases of taser cartridges. Carrying two at a time, he deposited them in the elevator, blocking the door from closing. Continuing the search, he found a case of tasers and added that to the pile. The dead bodies and occasional infected started to get him down. A small infected, in full tactical gear, blocked the hallway to the armory, he was barely able to stand, but forced himself upright and shrieked as he lunged at Caleb, making it two steps, then crawling towards him. Caleb pulled out his stun stick and grabbed the infected by the helmet, forcing his head upwards. He then carefully pressed the side of the stun stick against the infected’s exposed neck and pushed the button, dropping it instantly.

 

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