Run (Book 2): The Crossing

by Rich Restucci

  25

  Private Hobbs died at 20:44 hours on as near as anyone could tell, a Sunday night. The colonel sat with him next to his gurney until he lost consciousness, then he called the doctor. By the time the doc got there two minutes later, Hobbs was snapping through his restraints at his commanding officer. The doctor’s drill did its job again.

  Calvin’s left eye had started turning crimson at 18:00 hrs according to Boone’s watch, almost three hours before Hobbs died. The biker began to babble about his mother and a dog named Lug Nuts soon after that. He lost consciousness at 18:40. He never puked once.

  He didn’t die either. At 20:51, as they were unstrapping Hobbs from his steel slab, Calvin started screaming. He thrashed against his bonds, and Teems came running.

  “Calvin, are you…” Teems backed up slowly.

  The mechanic did everything he could to break the leather straps holding him in place. He thrashed so violently he tore the skin on his arms under the straps. He slammed the back of his head against a now blood-stained pillow repeatedly in frustration. It was clear he wanted to kill something, and his friend was the closest to him. One of his teeth cracked and fell out as he snapped his jaws closed.

  “I’m sorry, Teems,” the colonel said. “He was a good man. Irreplaceable as well.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. This is gonna be real hard on Danny, and the rest of the Steadys.”

  The doctor came over with his drill yet again, but stopped short, “This man isn’t dead. Look at his chest, he’s still breathing.”

  “He’s a runner then,” Rick said. “We’ve seen some before. They’re feral, and will attack anyone they get close to. They’re infected, but not dead.”

  “We’ve seen them before,” Teems said.

  The colonel nodded. “As have we. The good side is that they can be killed like any normal human, then they get up again. The bad is that they are very fast and resistant to pain.”

  Teems brightened. “But if he ain’t dead, doesn’t that mean he can take this cure and be okay?”

  Rick shook his head. “I don’t know. My ex-wife told me that anyone that was already infected was incurable, but that was before we knew about the runners. The cure, if it works, can only prevent people from getting back up. You’ll still die if bitten, but once you die you stay dead.”

  “I’ll take that, it’s better than the alternative,” said Bourne.

  “Yeah but what if it does work? I can’t just kill Calvin knowing that he could have been saved.”

  “I’m sorry, Teems, but we don’t even know if the cure works at all, let alone on a runner. Besides, we’re fifteen hundred miles away. How would you contain him for as long as it will take to get the cure back here, assuming we survive the trip and get it in the first place? The country is crawling with zombies.”

  “Don’t forget the Triumvirate,” the colonel added, “Although now they’re probably calling themselves something else. They’re going to be searching for me, and no doubt Brooks knows about a secret mission from San Francisco to Boston by now, so he’ll be searching for you as well.”

  “Gentlemen, this doesn’t solve our immediate problem,” said the doctor. “What do we do with Calvin?”

  “Can you sedate him?”

  Doc rummaged through what looked like a tackle box and came out with a syringe and a small bottle of clear liquid. He injected the now shrieking Calvin in the forearm with the stuff, and the infected man calmed down almost immediately, although he still lazily snapped at the doctor while he was close.

  Ed was standing behind the group. “What did you give him?”

  “Valium,” answered the doc. “Actually, it’s a concoction of valium and morphine I mixed together. I could have used Thorazine, although I don’t know why they would have that at this facility. The Thorazine would drop an elephant. Normally, I wouldn’t mix an opiate with—”

  Teems pointed. “Jesus, look at him, he looks almost normal.”

  Calvin had indeed calmed down, and his blood red gaze was locked on to Teems, who took a tentative step toward his friend. He stooped to pick up Calvin’s tooth and the doctor yelled at him, “Don’t touch it! It has infected fluids all over it.” Doc used a surgical glove to pick up the tooth and he discarded it in a plastic bag. “Therein lies the problem, my friend. If we keep him here, eventually he will infect someone else, regardless of how he’s isolated or how careful we are around him. Not to mention he might not eat. I’ve seen the runners attack people and tear into them, but they don’t eat the people like the rotters do. Besides, if he does eat, who would feed him? You can’t get close enough without him trying to kill you.”

  Calvin’s hands were clenching and unclenching into fists, and his eyes began to leak what appeared to be blood. His breathing started to speed up, and he turned his gaze from Teems to the others nearby.

  “How much of that shit did you pump into him, Doc?” demanded Ed.

  “Enough that he should barely be conscious, and extremely happy besides.”

  The restrained biker started moving more quickly on his stainless steel bench, and he began to emit a low growl as he looked back into Teems’ eyes. His lip curled into a snarl and he clenched his teeth.

  Doc looked at his syringe, and then at the small vial he had used. “That should have put him in a near coma. I… I don’t understand.”

  “The dead are walking, Doc,” Rick said. “The rules have changed.”

  “Now what do we do?” Teems asked, his eyes locked with Calvin’s.

  Bourne stepped up. “Considering this infection is strong enough to oust whatever medication you gave him in less than five minutes, I think the answer is clear.”

  “What answer? What’s clear?”

  “I’m sorry, Teems, but you need to put him down?”

  “You mean kill him? Put him down like a…a sick dog?”

  “If you need to think of it that way, please do.” Teems started to argue, but the colonel raised his hand. “Consider the alternative, he bites or scratches someone, and then your enclave here is infected from within. Let me ask you this: Would he want that? If it were you, would you?”

  Teems looked down, defeated. “No. No I wouldn’t.”

  26

  The Rock Steadys took the news hard, but Calvin wasn’t the first person they had lost, nor would he probably be the last. The doctor had given him an overdose of his concoction, enough morphine alone to kill three men, he had said, and when their friend had stopped breathing, Doc used his drill again.

  Teems, six foot three and two hundred seventy pounds of Harley Davidson-riding Biker, cried like a baby. They buried Calvin, Private Hobbs, and Mitch, the young man who had been scratched that evening, under the cover of snipers and the Bradley. The zombies left them alone while the humans completed their cheerless task.

  When they were finished, Bourne called the SEALs, Rick, and Teems to a meeting in one of the second floor offices.

  “The folks in Boston are running out of time. They have maybe two weeks of supplies left, and then they start getting hungry, and that will make them sloppy. We should be able to make decent time in your LAV but it will be extremely crowded. We will have to appropriate transportation for the extra muscle I’m bringing along the way.”

  Androwski looked confused. “Muscle?”

  “Yes, in addition to your SEAL team, I will be taking ten of my men with me. The rest will stay here and defend this place against the undead and, once they figure out where you are, the Triumvirate too. We blew the Blackhawk when we left the checkpoint, as I have no doubt that Brooks put some type of locator on it, but that was only a few miles from here. Eventually they’ll see this facility and come knocking.”

  “How are these people supposed to fight off those soldiers?” Rick asked. “They’re all civilians!”

  “As I said, I’m only bringing ten of my boys with me. Barry will stay behind as he’s the only one qualified to drive the Abrams. He and some of the other members of my
team will train your civilians in the proper use of firearms and munitions, tactics, and stealth. The civvies will also be trained on how to use the armor, both the tank and the Bradley. Trust me, loading a Bradley is not a five minute operation.” Bourne looked at the biker. “Teems, you always have the silo to fall back into should things get out of control up here. Barry can more than fortify what you have below such that a nuclear warhead would be needed to gain access.”

  “The kids do think that place is cool.”

  “So do I. The fact that it’s a nuclear launch facility notwithstanding, you have an underground fortress with multiple egress points, food and water for years, and probably weapons once you get all those doors open. That boy Chris might just be able to get sat signals with those archaic computers as well, assuming the satellite orbit hasn’t degraded too much.”

  “Chris is going to want to come with us,” Rick said.

  “Absolutely out of the question. Your civilian team, with the exception of yourself, will need to remain onsite here while we carry out the mission.”

  “Due respect, Colonel,” began Androwski, “we were given orders by my CO to both keep Rick and his team safe. All the way to Boston and back. Following your orders would compromise my CO’s, and I’m not willing to do that. Not to mention, telling Dallas he can’t come could get…unpleasant.”

  In the end, the colonel acquiesced to bringing Dallas and Anna along with Rick, but Chris elected to stay behind. Androwski and his SEALS couldn’t make Chris come with them, so they were relieved of responsibility as far as he was concerned. The kid hadn’t come up from the silo since he first went down there, and he had already figured out how to power down some of the electronic door locks.

  There were six of Rick’s original team, plus four others including the colonel, in the LAV. Eight others would also be coming, four each in a black Dodge Ram pickup and a Humvee. The second Humvee would remain behind as additional light-armored transport.

  Dallas was on his feet and demanding to go in his most belligerent tone before anyone told him he was already slotted to go. “Concussion my ass, I’m fit as a goddam fiddle.” He looked at the doctor and smiled. “Damn quacks dunno what they’re talkin’ ‘bout anyway.”

  Good-byes were said, and Anna actually kissed Chris on the cheek when he came up from the silo. Stunned, he put his hand to his cheek and remained silent. “Well don’t get all emotional on me, you big sissy,” she said, “and don’t go getting eaten.”

  “I would like to see you again,” he answered and smiled a wan smile, “so if you could please not die, I might let you kiss me again.”

  She raised her eyebrows, “Let me? Huh. We’ll see when I get back.”

  She left him blinking, and moved off with the soldiers. Rick and Dallas came up next, and Rick grabbed his hand, as Dallas put his hand on the young man’s shoulder, “Been through a lot with you boy, gonna miss your sorry ass.”

  “What our red-necked hillbilly is trying to say is that he’s going to worry about you.”

  “About him? Ha! He should be worryin’ bout us! Take care of yourself, kid.”

  “You too, big guy.” Chris leaned forward and embraced the Texan. Surprised, the man hugged back and then pushed hastily away. He thumbed at Anna. “Thought you liked girls.”

  Rick shook Chris’s hand again. “I must admit, I’m glad one of you has the sense to remain in a safe spot.”

  “Sense?” Dallas asked in mock rage. “Sense! If you had any sense you’d stay here with the kid. Can’t shoot worth a damn anyway, prolly shoot me for we git out that damn LAV,” he muttered as he strode off.

  Chris got serious. “Rick, don’t take any dumb chances, you’ve got Sam to think about.”

  “Dumb? Me?”

  “Yeah, you. Remember to save your own ass when you’re saving everybody else’s.”

  “Will do. You and I have been together since the beginning, stay safe.”

  Chris hugged Rick as well. “Always.” He looked over Rick’s shoulder. “And if you wouldn’t mind bringing her back, I would be happy with that.”

  “She’s feisty, I’ll do what I can. Take care of these folks, they’re good people.”

  Rick looked around the depot once more then joined his team inside the LAV. Teems poked his head inside when he was done shaking hands with Dallas and Seyfert. “Watch them rotters,” he said to the crew, “they bite! See ya, hillbilly!”

  “You sure will, psycho! Back before you can say Harley Davidson!”

  The cheerful expression on Teems’ face dropped away as the hatch closed on the LAV. “Harley Davidson,” he said to himself and moved to the side.

  27

  A small fire crackled in the waning light of the Iowa sun. A group of nine sat around the fire on the road, or broken debris from it as they spoke back and forth. Several others kept watch from atop the LAV or in the bed of a Dodge pickup. The back hatch of the armored vehicle was open, and Anna strode out of it, using a fingernail to pick her teeth. “Nobody thought to bring any floss?”

  The fire they were sitting around was a cook fire. An empty cardboard case of MREs sat nearby, it served as a trash can for the discarded plastic packages associated with the military rations. Each Meal Ready to Eat had its own flameless ration heater, essentially a water activated, environmentally safe, plastic bag. Heating the beef stew and chunk-chicken dinners was always better over a fire though, and the team was in the middle of nowhere on a barren, partially destroyed road, so the colonel called a halt to heat the food and stretch everyone’s legs.

  “Seriously, nobody? This damn chicken is stuck in my teeth.”

  “Use your toothbrush,” the colonel said and went back to his map.

  “Tried that,” Anna replied to herself and made sucking noises as she continued the attempt to remove the lodged poultry.

  Bourne rubbed his jaw as he traced his finger on a Rand McNally road atlas. “Better than six hours and no Triumvirate. I thought for sure they would have this road watched.”

  Androwski pointed at the atlas too. “We’re more than a hundred miles north of I-80, did they have patrols out this far?”

  “Patrols? Probably not anymore, the Warthogs and birds were fuel eaters, and both fuel and maintenance techs are hard to come by, not to mention pilots and the constant threat of undead roamers at the airfield. Checkpoints though, those I can envision this far north.”

  “Do ya think they’ll look for ya?” asked Dallas.

  “I’m sure of it. The average guy would see the downed helicopter back at that checkpoint and assume we crashed. There were hundreds of undead a few miles from that position too, so hopefully they came to investigate and at least wandered through. Best case scenario, the dead decided to hang around, and the Triumvirate stooges sent to check will assume the area was overrun. Brooks isn’t the average guy, though. He will want to see the destruction for himself, regardless of undead infestation, and when he does, he will understand immediately that it was a tank shell that took out the copter.” Bourne smiled. “Then he’s going to get pissed and shoot somebody. Hopefully it’s one of his guys. Make no mistake though, he’ll come looking.”

  “With any luck, they’ll miss the depot and not come this far north or east,” Rick thought out loud.

  “Sir,” one of the lookouts said from the back of the Dodge. “Sir, there’s a vehicle inbound from the west. Make that two.”

  Bourne was all business after that. “Rick, Dallas, and Anna back in the LAV, Stark, you’re driving, button up. I want snipers on the LAV, and get the truck on the other side of the armor. Weapons hot, people, safeties off! Androwski and Seyfert, remove your suppressors. If they fire on us, return fire immediately, focus on the vehicle drivers and any heavy weapons first. If they are Triumvirate, I would rather they not know I’m here, but you guys will stick out like sore thumbs. I will man the Bushmaster. Fire at will if they get hostile!”

  “Radio check!” yelled Androwski. Several check-checks and five by fives cam
e over everyone’s radio, as folks scrambled to follow orders. The Dodge was moved in front of a now sideways LAV, and the Humvee was pulled off to the side of the broken road.

  The vehicles had been coming at high speed, but they seemed to slow, then stopped about a quarter of a mile away. The soldier who had spied the vehicles coming shouted through the radio, “Sir! Two just jumped and headed into the brush. I have scope glare! Snipers, repeat snipers!” Everybody got down behind something, and the turret on the now closed up LAV swiveled toward the road.

  “Biggs, Keleher, do you have the snipers?”

  “Roger that, sir, these rifles are unbelievable! Kelly, I got left.”

  The soldier standing to the right of the LAV with one of the THOR sniper rifles swiveled his bipod and braced against the hull of the vehicle, adjusting his aim. “Copy. Right is mine. Five by five.”

  “Take them on Androwski’s signal or if any hostile opens fire, then pick targets at will.”

  “Signal is copasetic,” Androwski said. “Repeat, fire on copasetic.”

  “Roger that.”

  Two more military Humvees came speeding up the road and stopped thirty meters short of the small convoy. “Shit,” somebody said over the radio as men in black BDUs got out of the lead truck.

  Androwski and Seyfert moved forward as two of the newcomers walked toward them. The SEALs pulled their black face covers down as they approached. Both of the men in black were armed, and although their rifles were pointed toward the ground, they looked anxious.

  “That’s far enough,” Androwski said when five meters of pockmarked and burned asphalt separated the two groups. “What do you want?”

  The man that had gotten out of the passenger’s seat was unshaven and unkempt, and he spoke first. “Interesting way to meet new people. What’s with all the hostility? We’re here to help.”