“Where did they come from?”
She turned to see Skeeter and Buck standing just behind her, their faces concerned at the appearance of the newcomers.
Candy tried to remain stoic. “They’re part of the group that the marauders were with.”
Skeeter’s brows knit and she shook her head. “These don’t look like the people who ran us down on the road.”
Buck pulled her closer to him. “They were traveling with them. That doesn’t mean they’re cut from the same cloth.”
Candy stepped forward and waved at one of the sentries. “Make sure their vehicles are brought around to the back and parked out of sight.”
He nodded. “Hank and Wally are directing them to the cabinet shop across the way. They said there’s plenty of room to park them indoors.”
Candy turned back to the kids. “Find Vicky and have her fire up the nurses’ station. Some of these people look like they may need her help.”
Skeeter gave her a nod then turned and ran back to find Vicky. Buck stepped forward again. “What can I do?”
“Go to the kitchen. Tell the cooks to warm up the soup and find some bread. From the looks of them, they could all do with a good meal.”
“Got it.”
Candy turned back to the stream of people and took a deep breath. “Let’s find all of you a place to rest. We have showers, we have soap and we have extra clothing.” She began to urge them back into the warehouse. “We have plenty to go around.”
Roger appeared in the crowd and closed the distance to her. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Of course. I’m not the one who went after a madman.”
“Unfortunately, that madman got away.” Roger glanced at the people coming in, their eyes glancing about, trying to take in the entirety of the warehouse. “I knew some of these folks were hurting, but until I got close enough to actually ‘see’ them…”
“They’re our people now. We’ll get them cleaned up and fed. Vicky is setting up the nurses’ station and the cooks will see to it that nobody goes to bed hungry.”
Roger placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “You really are the best.”
She tried not to blush. “I could have told you that.” She pulled him to her and gave him a quick kiss. “Now go finish whatever you should be doing. We’ve got this.”
Roger watched her walk away, leading an older woman deeper into the warehouse. Something inside him ached for her and he had to force himself to turn back and look for Hatcher.
He approached the staging area and watched as the last of the people meandered through the gate, most looking uncertain at what might be waiting for them inside the big metal door. He spotted a sentry and waved him over. “Where’s Hatcher?”
The sentry pointed across the way. “In the old cabinet shop. They’re stowing the vehicles.”
Roger took a deep breath and went against the crowd. He trotted across the street, instinct still having him look both ways before stepping out. He entered the cabinet shop and stepped back. Engine exhaust nearly choking him.
He saw three men working their way between the large RV’s and small trucks. “Everything okay?”
Hank waved at his face and stepped out into the night air before taking a deep breath. “Some of those rigs were barely running. I don’t know how they made it this far.”
Roger knew exactly what he meant.
Hatcher followed Wally out and shut the steel security door behind him. “With Simon still out there, I don’t want him finding where we are.”
Roger nodded. “Understandable.” He fell into step behind Hatcher. “But do you really think he’s a threat? I mean, he’s by himself.”
Hatcher paused by the chain link gate and eyed Roger. “You knew the man as well as anybody. What do you think?”
Roger shrugged and blew his breath out hard. “Man, I honestly have no idea.” He looked up at Hatcher. “I mean, the guy is nuts. That’s a fact. But he had his gang to rely on. When they refused to step up and follow his orders…” He shrugged again. “Part of me wants to say that he’ll cut his losses and run.”
“What does the other part of you say?”
Roger snorted. “That it’s a good thing we live in a metal building. Otherwise that crazy son of a bitch would burn it down around us.”
8
Hatcher rolled over and peered through a cracked eyelid. He could see daylight outside but he couldn’t begin to guess how late it was. He actually groaned as he sat up and slowly stretched his neck.
“You shouldn’t sleep on that old couch.” Vicky stood and poured a cup of coffee for him. “That must be murder on your back.”
Hatcher sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “How long was I out?”
“About five hours. I think that’s a record.” She handed him the coffee and he inhaled deeply.
“This is gonna taste so good.”
Vicky sat and leaned back in his swivel chair swaying side to side. “You want the good or the bad?”
“Either. Both.” He shook his head and sipped the bitter liquid. “Hit me.”
“The people you brought back are getting settled in. They’ve been fed and scrubbed and I checked out the ones that had medical complaints.”
He raised a brow at her. “And?”
“And I think some of them need a real doctor. I may be wrong but there may be a couple of cases of hepatitis in there.”
Hatcher nodded slightly. “Well, you’re the doctor now. Do what you think needs doing.”
She slowly stood and eyed him cautiously. “There’s more.”
“Let me guess, that was the good news?”
“Some of the…” She paused, her mind trying to find the right words. “Some of the ‘couples’ were in forced relationships.”
Hatcher opened both eyes and stared at her. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that some of the women were ‘placed’ with the men as some sort of prize or reward.”
Hatcher sat the cup down and leaned back on the couch, his jaw tensing. “And now?”
“Now they’re stepping forward and declaring themselves free of…whatever they were before. A lot of the guys aren’t too happy about it.”
Hatcher came to his feet and glared through the window of his office. “After I’m done with them they’ll—”
“Daniel, no.” Vicky stood and turned him by the shoulders, her eyes stern. “You need to let them figure this out. They can’t be believing that they’ve gone from one tyrant to another.”
Hatcher’s mouth fell open and he stared at her with confusion. “I’m a tyrant?”
“You’re not listening to me.” She sat him down and she sat across from him. “From the ladies’ point of view, they’re free. From the men’s point of view, they’ve lost something that I can’t put into words. But if you go in there and ‘lay down the law’, then, to some of them, you may be just as authoritarian as Simon.”
Hatcher leaned back and blew his breath out. “Okay, fine. But if any of them try to get physical…”
“Then all bets are off. Feel free to beat the shit out of whomever you please.” She gave him a sideways grin and Hatcher reached for his coffee again.
“In the future, wait until I’ve got more caffeine in me before hitting me with something like that.”
“Noted.” She sat back again and crossed her legs. “There’s more.”
Hatcher held a finger up and tried to gulp the hot coffee. He took a deep breath and forced his eyes wider. “I think I’m awake more. Hit me.”
“Some of the men have been trying to leave.” She crossed her arms and looked to him.
“Leave as in…”
“As in ‘leave’. They aren’t happy here.”
Hatcher shook his head, unsure that he heard her correctly. “Unhappy? They just got here. It hasn’t been a day yet.”
She nodded. “But before, they had a bit of power. They had their captive women. They were the first ones fed. They…” She to
ok a deep breath; not sure she could believe what she was about to say. “They want to be back with Simon.”
Hatcher groaned and sat back. “And they could lead him right back here.” He rubbed a hand across his face, unsure what to do next. He looked up. “Where’s Roger?”
“He’s trying to talk sense into the men.”
“How many are we talking about?”
She shook her head gently. “Four. So far.”
“So far? You think more will want to join their ranks?”
She shrugged. “It’s possible.”
Hatcher stood and tossed back the rest of the coffee. “Time to put an end to this bullshit.”
The Command Duty Officer sat quietly across from Dr. Carpenter. His eyes darted between Carol and the older man chained to the bed. “And since then?”
Charles shrugged. “I feel better than before I was infected.” He glanced to Carol and gave her a crooked smile. “I don’t know what made her think to adjust the frequency again but it worked.”
“It was a guess.” She gave him a soft smile.
The CDO blew his breath out hard and eyed the man sternly. “How can we know that you won’t have a relapse?”
Charles opened his mouth then quickly shut it. “Honestly, Commander, I don’t think we can.”
Carol suddenly pushed off of the counter. “I’ll watch him. I’ll watch him like a hawk and if there’s any sign of him relapsing…”
The CDO stood. “You’ll do what?” He glanced to Charles then to her. “He’ almost three times your size. If you tried to subdue him, he’d flatten you.”
She nodded. “But we have orderlies. BIG orderlies. I can talk to them beforehand. Make sure that there’s one available at all times. Inform them that if I give the word, Dr. Carpenter is to be taken into custody.”
The CDO sighed and wiped a hand across his mouth. “I’ll take it up the chain of command, but I wouldn’t put much hope in them risking it.”
Charles’ face fell.
Carol stepped forward. “What if…what if he was shackled?”
Charles head snapped around and he stared at her. “What?”
“What if we shackled his ankles? So, he couldn’t run? The risk would be contained right here in the lab. He could still work, still go to the mess hall, still go to the showers and the bathroom, just…much more slowly.”
The CDO nodded slightly. “That might make it easier to sell.”
Charles looked to him with hope. “You think they’d go for that?”
The man shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, doc. But I will suggest that they come down here and speak with you personally.”
He gave the officer a smile. “Thank you, sir.” Charles tried to reach out, to shake his hand and quickly remembered that he was chained to the bed. “I would shake but…” He gave the man a crooked smile.
“It’s okay doc. I’ll see what I can do.” The officer stepped past Carol and left the lab.
She let her breath out slowly. “I’m sorry, Dr. Carpenter. It looked like we weren’t going to win him over so I…”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you thought of it.” He laid back and closed his eyes. “A shower sure sounds good right about now.”
“I’m sure it does.” She checked his vitals once more then patted his arm. “As soon as I hear anything, you’ll be the next to know.”
Charles nodded then leaned back on the mattress. “I never thought I’d get sick of sleeping.”
She walked out and flipped off the lights as she left. She turned to go back to work when the lab suddenly seemed to erupt with excitement.
“What’s going on?”
“The virologist from France is here.” One of the researchers pushed past her to rush toward the flight deck.
Carol glanced at her watch and felt she should notify Dr. LaRue. She walked cautiously to the stateroom and pushed the door open without knocking. Vivian lay sprawled across the bed, one leg hanging off the mattress. Her lab coat was twisted around her and one shoe was still on.
She approached slowly and shook the woman’s shoulder. “Dr. LaRue?”
Vivian groaned and rolled over. A wet spot was on her pillow where she had drooled on herself. Carol squared her shoulders then shook her with a bit more gusto. “Dr. LaRue! The virologist you requested is here.”
Vivian cracked one eye open and stared at her. She opened her mouth slightly but only gurgling and garbled speech came out. Carol blew her breath out hard with frustration then shook the woman harder. “Dr. LaRue! You need to wake up now!”
Vivian swatted at her weakly then rolled over again. She grunted and Carol heard her pass gas. She stepped back and stared at her lying in bed. A quick glance noted how unkempt the room was and she sighed as she turned to go.
Simon stretched and scratched himself. He stood at the edge of the balcony and unzipped his pants. He began to urinate over the edge, chuckling to himself. “It’s raining!”
He waved the stream back and forth to cover a wider area. He was actually disappointed once he voided his bladder. He zipped up and peered over the edge, checking his distance. “Damn.” He smirked at the wet stain on the concrete below. “Must be my prostate.”
He turned and marched back into the room. He picked up the shotgun and ejected the spent cartridge. He slid a fresh one in then snapped the shotgun closed.
He made a quick trip down to the lobby and kicked open the door to the dining room. He looked around and felt the need to ask for the manager. The continental breakfast was certainly lacking.
Simon marched to the kitchen and began to rifle through the empty cabinets. “There has to be something left.” He poked and prodded every place he could think of to look for food. He found a smashed box of instant potatoes. He held it up and whatever was left inside had solidified into a solid mass. He chucked it aside then pushed his way out to the hallway.
He was about to leave when another thought crossed his mind. “Candy machine.” He spun back around and marched toward the indoor pool. He saw the vending machine laying on its side, the plexiglass front smashed open. He bent low and looked inside. Nothing.
He groaned as he stood up and made his way back outside. His bike still had a wet spot on the seat from the morning dew but he didn’t care. He swiped at it then straddled the machine. A quick turn of the key and a press of the button had the big V-Twin roaring to life.
He kicked her into gear and made his way through the city streets, looking for any place that appeared promising. He passed a burned-out convenience store and a couple of other small shops that looked like they had been already raided.
He slowed the bike and peered to his right. He could see rooftops of houses and a tall ornate wall surrounding the community. He rubbed at his chin and tried to figure the odds that there might still be food in one of the houses.
Hell, there could be Crazies in those houses.
He sighed and kicked the bike into gear again. He turned and pointed his front wheel toward the housing addition. He tried to ease up on the place, ready to bolt and make a break for it if it looked infected.
He paused outside the open gates and stared at the streets covered with trash. “For such fancy houses, they sure don’t give two shits about appearances.” He turned the bike toward the entry and pulled in slowly.
He weaved his bike side to side on the empty street, his eyes scanning each house. He slowed at the corner and stared at one with the garage door open. A small SUV was parked at the street, the doors open.
“Looks like somebody didn’t get away before the shit hit the fan.” He sucked at his teeth and debated. Whoever got them could still be around. He quickly calculated in his mind how long it had been and opted to chance it.
He pulled the bike alongside the curb and parked behind the SUV. He made sure there was plenty of room to make an escape. He turned off the engine and strained to listen. Slowly he turned his head, listening for anything that should tell him that this was a bad idea. He glanced at
the other houses and felt certain that no eyes were on him.
He stepped off of the bike and walked slowly toward the house. He entered the garage and wanted to gag at the suburbia bullshit scattered around. The place had a river rock front yard, but this asshole still had a lawnmower and a weed eater. Tools were mounted to the wall in order by size.
Simon leaned closer and let a low whistle loose. “Fucking Snap-Ons? Must be nice to have more money than brains.” He turned and walked to the door leading into the house.
He turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly. He heard nothing moving inside and took a quick sniff. No smell of death.
He pushed the door open fully and stepped into the mudroom. He leaned forward and peered into the kitchen. It looked like somebody had gone through it, throwing shit everywhere. He could see boxes and bags scattered across the kitchen floor and into the dining room.
He stepped inside and squared his shoulders. “Hi honey, I’m home.” He called out. He paused and listened for any kind of movement. He counted to ten slowly then stepped deeper into the house.
“Anybody here?” His hand gripped the shotgun tighter and he clenched his jaw, waiting for something to jump out at him. He stepped beyond the dining room wall and quickly spun, leveling his shotgun on the living room.
Empty.
He stepped back and pulled the curtains open in the dining room. Daylight flooded the enclosed space and he could see canned goods, dry goods and bags of stuff scattered throughout the dining room and kitchen.
A slow smile spread across his lips and he bent low to inspect the goods he had just found. “Fucking sour kraut?” He tossed the can aside and picked up the next one. “Black olives?” He continued digging and found a can of fruit cocktail.
A quick rummage through the drawers found a manual can opener. He sucked the fruit and heavy syrup down as he walked through the rest of the house.
Caldera (Book 5): United We Fall Page 6