Recovery: V Plague Book 8

by Dirk Patton

  Looking down between her feet she couldn’t begin to estimate how far above the ground she was. It could have been a hundred feet or a thousand. Or much more. She felt a thrill of fear looking at the rugged and unforgiving terrain she was steadily falling towards. Tall peaks were to her right and she was just now coming level with the highest summit. A thick forest blanketed the mountains and there wasn’t a sign of civilization anywhere.

  The ground approached faster than she thought it could have. She was now low enough to make out individual tree tops and started to panic at the thought of crashing into one and getting tangled in its branches, left dangling a hundred feet in the air. Thinking she was imagining it at first, Rachel looked up when she heard a faint voice again.

  “Pull the toggles to slow down!” It was the pilot, shouting instructions to her.

  What the hell were toggles? The handles! It had to be. Rachel grabbed and pulled, surprised how easily they moved. She immediately began to slow, then started to move in a broad spiral. Frightened, she let go of the toggles and the circling stopped but her speed increased dramatically.

  Reaching up and pulling on them again she was relieved when her rate of descent slowed, but she started into a slow spiral again. This time she realized that she was pulling one toggle farther than the other and backed off slightly on the one side. The turn stopped as soon as her hands came level with each other.

  Watching between her feet, Rachel spotted a small clearing to her left. The wind was from her right, pushing her towards it, but it looked like it would push her too far. Beyond the clearing was a thick stand of trees, then a sheer rock face dropped for what appeared to be hundreds of feet.

  Taking a chance, Rachel played with the position of the toggles trying to guide herself to the clearing. It looked small but was growing in size as she fell. Her rate of descent increased as she adjusted.

  The spiral started again, the radius of each orbit increasing as she spun faster and faster. As the spin rate increased she started to swing out from beneath the canopy like a pendulum. Her motion tilted the parachute off horizontal, spilling air out and letting her fall faster, which increased her spin speed even more.

  “Let go!” The pilot screamed from somewhere above her. Rachel was terrified. With every spin she pulled harder, her brain focused on the only things her hands could grasp.

  “Let go or you’re dead!” He screamed out again.

  This time his words broke through the fear and she released the toggles like they were burning hot. She continued to spin but immediately the rate began to slow. Her descent also slowed slightly as the parachute came back level and its entire surface filled with air once again. Then she flashed by the tops of some trees.

  “Pull hard now!” The pilot screamed.

  Rachel pulled hard on the toggles and felt herself begin to slow and turn, then she slammed into the ground only feet from the trunk of a massive pine tree. Her legs went out from under her, unable to absorb the impact, and she fell on her right side. Fortunately she landed on a thick carpet of dead pine needles, which significantly cushioned her impact otherwise she would likely have broken one or both of her legs.

  Lying on the ground, panting, Rachel was facing the clearing and watched as the pilot controlled his descent and lightly landed on both feet. Quickly he shrugged out of the parachute and raced over to where she was lying.

  “Ma’am, are you hurt?” He asked, skidding to a stop on his knees next to her when he saw her eyes open.

  “If you call me ma’am one more time I’m going to kick your ass,” Rachel gasped.

  “Yes ma’am,” the pilot grinned, helping her sit up and remove the parachute.

  After catching her breath, Rachel stood and looked around. She had come down at the very edge of the clearing, missing the closest tree by mere feet. The sky was cloudy and the wind was gusting, cold air causing her to start shivering.

  “What do we do?” She asked the pilot who was busy checking the pistol that had been holstered at his hip.

  “We wait,” he said, holstering his weapon. “My wingman made it, or at least I think he did, but either way there’ll be a SAR flight along as soon as it can be organized. So we stay put and wait for rescue.”

  While he was talking he led the way back to where he’d discarded his parachute. A small, cushioned pack was attached to a long tether and he picked it up and disconnected the line holding it.

  “What do you have in there?” Rachel asked.

  “First aid kit, sunblock, water ration, a couple of MREs, a compass, waterproof matches, flare gun and water purification tablets.” He said, looking into the pouch as he spoke.

  “No more weapons?” Rachel asked. He just shook his head.

  As the day wore on the wind grew stronger and the temperature continued to drop. They talked little, exchanging names and not much more. Neither was in the mood to socialize.

  Shortly before the last of the daylight faded, Bill gathered fallen tree branches and piled them in an area that was somewhat sheltered from the biting wind. Rachel stood and began helping. Soon they had a respectable pile and he spent a few minutes clearing pine needles until he had a large spot of bare earth exposed. Stacking twigs and smaller branches, a few of the open spots were filled in with dry pine needles. He was digging through his pack for a match when a bone-chilling howl sounded on the wind.

  Both of them leapt to their feet, looking around. Bill already had the pistol in his hand. The howl sounded again, loud in the dark forest, sending gooseflesh creeping up and down Rachel’s entire body. She shifted position until her back was pressed against Bill’s so that together they could watch in all directions.

  “Is that what I think it is?” Rachel hissed.

  “If you’re thinking wolf, then that’s what I think too.” He answered in a not so steady voice.

  “Will they attack humans?” She asked.

  “They’ll attack anything except maybe a bear,” he said.

  “I’m going to get the fire going,” Rachel said. “You keep an eye out.”

  He didn’t say anything and a moment later she struck one of the fat matches and held it to a tuft of pine needles. They were dry and caught easily, Rachel hunching over the small flame to shield it from the wind until the larger sticks and branches began burning.

  Once it was crackling away, Rachel reached back into the pouch and pulled out the flare gun. She looked at it a moment to figure it out, then pressed the release lever and broke it open. She could see brass in the chamber and satisfied it was loaded, snapped it closed. Three more flares were in a small plastic case that she stuffed it in her pocket.

  “What are you going to do with that?” Bill asked when she stood up and he saw it in her hand.

  “Maybe I’m wrong, but…” she was interrupted by another howl, this one sounding like it was no farther away than the far side of the clearing.

  Rachel and Bill both faced that direction with their weapon at arm’s length, pointed at where the howl originated. They stood that way for a minute, then Rachel began to worry that while they were distracted they were being stalked from behind. Turning, she started to move so her back was against Bill’s but froze when she saw a pair of yellow eyes watching her from the edge of the forest.

  “Oh, fuck,” she breathed as the eyes began approaching.

  The fire wasn’t large, what light it cast creating shadows in the forest that danced as the wind fanned the flames. But there was one large shadow that approached slowly, not wavering. The eyes were bright, reflecting the firelight and Rachel didn’t think the animal was more than thirty feet away. It was considerably larger than Dog.

  Rachel was shaking with fear, her heart pounding as she tried to steady the flare gun. The eyes were mesmerizing. Unblinking. Focused. A fear as primal and instinctual as any she’d ever experienced washed over her. Forcing herself to hold steady, Rachel aimed and pulled the trigger.

  There was a loud pop as the flare was triggered, a burning trail mar
king its passage through the air as it raced across the open space between her and the wolf. It struck the ground a foot in front of the animal, ricocheting up and impacting its chest as the second stage ignited, exploding into an intense ball of fire.

  The wolf yelped, stumbling backwards into the forest, its fur burning from the compounds in the flare. It raced away, screaming like Rachel had never imagined any canine could. She was able to track its progress for a few moments as it disappeared into the night.

  “Holy shit,” Bill said softly.

  Rachel was shaking but forced herself to open the flare gun, discard the used shell and load in a fresh one. They stood back to back, only taking their attention off the forest long enough to stack more wood on the fire. After close to three hours they hadn’t heard or seen any further sign of the wolves. Shivering from the cold and exhausted after the fear induced adrenaline surge they finally huddled around the fire and tried to stay warm enough to survive the night.

  12

  I paced while the Huey was being fueled. Up and down the roof, then when the thought struck me I headed down the stairs and out into the casino. Dog trotted with me but Katie headed for our suite to finish dressing. That was her excuse but she knows me well and I’m sure she was letting me stew and work out the frustration I was feeling.

  Making a beeline to the gift shop I pushed in and looked around until I found what I wanted. Besides gambling, Indian nations have discovered that they can sell cigarettes without having to charge state sales tax, at least in some states. As a result they usually have a very large stockpile of cartons of smokes on hand and this place was no different.

  There was a locked wire cage, stuffed full of brightly colored cartons. A couple of rounds blew the lock off the door and I yanked it open. Taking some of the cheap, cloth bags embroidered with the casino’s logo I stuffed them full of my brand of choice. I also scooped a few dozen disposable lighters into one of the bags then took the time to open a pack and light a cigarette.

  I know, not good for me in any way. But now wasn’t the time to think about quitting. Inhaling, my racing mind slowed and I calmed. With an armload of plunder I headed back to the VIP area, walking slowly and thinking. Dog gave each bag a through sniff, seemingly dejected when there weren’t any treats to be found.

  Katie was just coming out of the kitchen with a heaping platter of food when I walked in. She looked at what I was carrying, smiled as she shook her head and headed for the stairs. I fell in behind her, appreciating the view as she climbed ahead of me in the skintight jeans.

  Exiting onto the roof I paused to crush out the cigarette, well away from the fueling process, then followed Katie to the Pave Hawk. The side door was open and she set the food down, telling Martinez to help herself. Dog took up a seated position about three feet from the platter, eyes locked onto our meal.

  “So, we’re going to go find your friends and go to Idaho in a Bradley?” Katie asked as she picked up some food and started eating.

  I sat down in the open door after Martinez grabbed something to eat and returned to monitor the fueling. Tossing Dog a treat I shook my head as I started eating. I could see Colonel Crawford across the roof, pacing as he talked on the satellite phone.

  “No,” I said. “That will take too long. If there’s weather coming in, like the Colonel said, they could freeze to death before we were even half way there.”

  “Then what? We can’t fly.” Katie said.

  “I need to talk to whoever is watching with the satellite,” I said, standing up and heading for where Colonel Crawford was just beginning a new lap around the roof. Before I reached him he ended his call and turned, pausing when he saw me approaching.

  “Sir, can you get me on the phone with whoever at Pearl is controlling the satellite?”

  He didn’t ask why, just thumbed through a couple of numbers he must have programmed in and hit the “call” button. When it was answered he identified himself and explained he was handing the phone to me, holding it out a moment later.

  “This is Major Chase,” I said into the handset.

  “Petty Officer Simmons, sir. How may I assist you?” She sounded really young.

  “You have eyes on the two people that went down in Idaho, correct?”

  “Yes, sir. That’s correct. I’ve got them up on a monitor right now. They’re huddled around a camp fire and look like they’re really cold.”

  I took a deep breath, worry for Rachel gnawing at me.

  “Do you have my current location?” I asked.

  “Yes, sir. Got you,” she said after a few moments. “On the roof of a building with two helos, correct?”

  I looked up, involuntarily, as if I could see the camera that was watching me from somewhere in orbit.

  “That’s me. Now, can you overlay a road map and plot a route from my location to where they are?”

  “Yes, sir. Give me a moment please.” I could hear her typing furiously, muttering to herself as she worked for close to a minute. “OK, sir. I have it.”

  “Good. First, how many miles?”

  “1,574 road miles from your current location, sir.”

  “Can you do a quick scan of the roads on the route? Are they open? Clear of herds or anything else?” I asked.

  “Stand by, sir.”

  Again I could hear her working, but this time it was nearly five minutes before she came back on. Colonel Crawford had wandered over to get some food while I was waiting. Finding my stash, he hadn’t been shy about helping himself. He returned with an open pack, waving me farther away from the Huey so he could light one.

  “Sir, the roads are mostly clear. What I mean by that is in the Denver and Salt Lake City areas there is a lot of congestion. Abandoned vehicles. Wrecks. There are also small groups of infected wandering around both cities, but I’ve adjusted the route to bypass the worst areas. It added twenty-three overall miles but will probably save hours.” She said.

  “Excellent. Now what about the large herds coming out of Portland and Seattle? Are they on track to go through the area where our people are down?”

  “Yes, sir. They are.”

  “How long until the leading edge is in their area?” I asked.

  “I’ll need a few minutes to run the calculations, sir. Please stand by.” She didn’t wait for me to say anything, just immediately set to work.

  “What are you thinking?” Crawford asked while we waited.

  “I’m thinking I’m going to find a fast car and haul ass,” I said. “The rest of you pick up Scott, Irina and Igor, then Martinez flies you to the Bahamas.”

  “Good idea,” Katie said from behind me. “But where are we going to find a car?”

  Crawford suppressed a grin and walked away. With a sigh I turned to face my wife.

  “Not we,” I said. “Me.”

  “Unh uh,” she shook her head. “We.”

  “Honey,” I started to say but she stepped forward, grabbed the back of my neck and pulled my head down to kiss me.

  “We,” she said with a smile, turning and heading back to the Pave Hawk. I don’t think I imagined that she put a little extra sway in her hips as she walked away.

  “Sir, are you still there?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Thirteen and a half hours, sir. That’s what the computer is coming up with. In reality I don’t think the infected will climb up into the mountains where they are, but once they’re in the area the herd will cut off access.”

  “Thank you, Petty Officer. One final thing. Can you send the route you’ve mapped out to this phone? I don’t need a map, just text directions are fine.”

  “I’ll send both, sir.”

  “Thank you,” I said, ready to hang up but she stopped me.

  “Sir, if you call me when you get on the road and let me know what you’re driving I’ll track you. That way if anything changes I can call and give you a heads up.”

  “Petty Officer, why you’re not a Senior Chief already is beyond me. Remind me
to talk to your CO when this is over.” I said.

  “Thank you, sir! And don’t forget to call. I don’t sleep much anymore. You can pretty much always reach me.”

  13

  “That’s not a good idea,” Martinez said when I told the small group what I had in mind.

  The fueling had completed and we were all back in the VIP bar, eating another quick meal before we departed. Yes we were eating a lot, but there was no guarantee of when we would have anything other than an MRE again. When you’re on the move, fighting to stay alive, food is very much like water. You eat as much as you can, when you can, because it may be a long time before you get any more.

  “You have a better one?” I asked in between bites.

  “Look, I understand you need to get there fast because of the weather front coming in. I get that. But once we link up with Scott we should all follow in the Bradley. We’ll be a few days behind, but you may need us. Have you thought about where you’re going once you find Rachel?” Martinez asked.

  That caught me unprepared. My concern for her had driven all thoughts other than getting there as fast as possible out of my head. I looked around the table at Katie and Colonel Crawford. They just looked back at me.

  “I agree with the Captain,” Crawford finally said, wiping his mouth with a heavy linen napkin before taking a drink of water. “You may very well need support and that Bradley can keep moving in just about any kind of weather. We have no idea how bad it’s going to get and I can’t stop thinking about how bad the tornadoes in Arkansas were.”

  “What does that have to do with snow in Idaho?” I asked.

  “When the storms were bearing down on West Memphis it was mentioned to me that there’s a theory that nuclear detonations would have an adverse effect on the weather. Cause storms to be stronger. I don’t know if that was the case but you saw the aftermath of those tornadoes. I was raised in the southeast and have experienced a few in my day, but these were like nothing I’ve ever seen or heard of.