Outbreak (Book 1): Emerald City

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Outbreak (Book 1): Emerald City Page 16

by Jay K. Anthony


  Luke heard Pete start giggling and had to resist the urge to look up at Ted. He knew what he would see. An ugly, crooked tooth son of a bitch staring down at him out of the dark, probably with an UZI pointed at his head for good measure. Nope, Luke thought. Not going to look. Ignoring them, he turned to his right and walked south along the outside of the warehouse.

  He immediately felt better being on his own and away from “Team Crazy”, but it was cold, wet and not helped by a stiff wind that seemed to accelerate between the buildings. This coat sucks, he thought and made a mental note to keep an eye out for a better one. He also reminded himself to keep his eyes open. Just because they thought they had cleared out any zombies inside the fence did not mean jack shit. He paused between two buildings and looked at the horizon. The moon was up and cast a silhouette against the clouds gathered there. Weather doesn’t look good. I better get a move on. He picked up his pace to a fast walk.

  Luke chain smoked as he wound his way between the buildings and came to a parking lot with a large, red brick garage. He paused and looked around for trouble but the night was surprisingly quiet. Other than the garage, as best he could tell in the dark, there were a few cargo containers and a couple vans lined up, but nothing practical to drive to Eastern Oregon. After watching and listening for another minute, he was confident there was nothing hiding in the shadows and he walked over to the back of the building. Rubbing away dirt from one of the filthy windows, he tried to look in but it was too dark inside. Staying low so he could duck under the windows, he crept around one end of the building and tried a door. Locked. He continued around to the front of the building and saw that one of the bay doors was open at the floor. Kneeling down slowly, he peeked inside. The garage reeked of gas, oil, and rotten fish. What the hell, he thought. Fish?

  He held his breath. Nothing moved. He knew he needed to take a real look inside, so deciding the building was empty, he covered his nose, took another breath, and slid silently under the door. Once inside, he crouched down and listened. Nothing. It smelled bad, real bad, but Luke crept further into the garage and peeked carefully into the sub floors beneath the lifts. He knew those were spaces for mechanics so they could get under the cars and work on them from below. A motor pit, or a garage pit, or something, he thought. Surprisingly, the second pit he came to had been made into someone’s camp. It was also the source of the fish smell. He could see a sleeping bag, a lantern, and some books. There was also a stack of gutted and slowly drying fish. As Luke stood at the edge and looked down into the space, he heard a subtle noise that was more than just the wind. He felt something behind him and he spun around, his heart thundering in his chest. “Jesus Christ!” he screamed at a person standing by the door. “Move and I will blow you straight to hell!”

  It was a man. Luke could just make out his silhouette in the darkness, but he didn’t know if he was human or a zombie or what. The intruder took a step forward and Luke fired the shotgun from his hip. He hit the man square in the chest, blowing him backward into the garage bay door. The stranger’s body slipped to the floor and Luke walked forward. He stood over the man and saw that it was just some guy. Not a zombie. Just a hermit with long hair and filthy brown clothes. Shit! Luke thought and shivered. He had broken out into a cold sweat. What the hell was he thinking? Why would he sneak up on me? The man was still alive, breathing is short hitched gasps, but Luke could tell from the amount of blood spreading on the floor around him that he was dying fast. “Stupid son of a bitch,” Luke said to the hermit. The man’s mouth moved, but no sound came out. He could only look up at Luke with accusing eyes. Luke did not care to hear what the man had to say anyhow and stood there and watched him die.

  What have I become? Luke asked himself. This poor son of a bitch was just trying to survive in this crazy world. Luke was conflicted. He didn’t know if the man was trying to attack him or just get his attention. Shit, maybe he would have offered me some of his fish. And why the hell didn’t we think to try to catch fish? We’ve been eating shit that a dog wouldn’t touch and we could have been catching God damned salmon all winter. Stupid!

  Luke stood in the darkness and wondered if maybe Ted was the one who had things figured out. Maybe to survive in this world you have to be insane. He kicked the hermit in the foot to make sure he was dead and then left the body slumped next to the bay door. Covering his nose again, he climbed down the stairs into the pit to see what it was the man had stashed down there. It was not much. Luke looked through the meager supplies and poked at the fish with his rifle. It looked like the hermit had been eating them raw. Welcome to Crazyland, Luke thought. Enjoy your complimentary lifelong pass. Disgusted, he climbed back up and out of the pit and left the garage to go back to the warehouse.

  TASHA

  “Where are we going?” Tasha asked.

  “Mercer Island,” Williams replied as Ortiz drove through a series of streets lined with warehouses. “Command set up their base there. It is about twelve miles and should be easy going. We’ll be there before you know it.”

  Tasha sighed and leaned her head back against her seat. Easy going sounds good to me, she thought. She looked out the window of the Humvee and saw they were only a few blocks from where she had hidden for months in the cannery. All that is behind me now. She closed her eyes and tried to rest. Suddenly she felt the Humvee slow as Ortiz brought the vehicle to a stop. Tasha opened her eyes and looked past Williams and out the windshield. She saw there was a massive hole in the road, like there had been a washout or something, and the asphalt was split in two. “What do you think?” Ortiz asked, looking over at Williams.

  Williams scanned the area and frowned. Tasha saw there were not a lot of good options. Finally Williams pointed to the right towards an overturned truck in the road. “Go that way,” he said. “See if we can get around that truck.” Ortiz turned the steering wheel and the Humvee made a grinding noise.

  “What’s that noise?” Cleveland asked.

  “Don’t worry about it,” Williams said as Ortiz straightened out the Humvee and drove toward the overturned truck. She slowly aimed for the gap between the vehicle and the wall of the building next to it. It was quickly obvious there was not enough space to cleanly drive through. Ortiz looked at Williams for guidance.

  “Do what you can,” Williams said. “Push it out of the way if you have to.”

  Ortiz nosed the Humvee up against the truck and pressed down on the accelerator with her foot. The Humvee tires squealed for a moment before they found traction and began to push the truck out of the way. Ortiz kept pushing the truck until there was room for the Humvee to get around. Once clear, she accelerated through the gap.

  “Good job,” Williams said. “Make the next left, that will take us east on Admiral Way.” Ortiz did as directed and drove slowly, navigating around major potholes in the road, broken down vehicles, and large pieces of debris which seemed to be everywhere. “Heads up,” Tanner said from on top of the Humvee. “We have vegetables dead ahead. Shit. There’s more. Right side, twenty meters.”

  “Have they seen us?” Williams asked.

  “Oh yeah,” Tanner replied. “Want me to take them out?”

  “No,” Williams said. “Let’s try to keep the noise down for once. Ortiz, get us out of here.”

  “You got it, Sergeant,” she said. She pressed down on the gas pedal and accelerating hard down the road. Tasha looked out her window again. A small group of creepers were chasing the vehicle, running flat out like their lives depended on it. It’s not their lives that depend on it, Tasha thought. It’s ours. Ortiz continued to accelerate and drove around a garbage truck left abandoned in the center of the road. As she came around one side, something snapped loudly from underneath the Humvee.

  “Something's wrong!” Ortiz yelled.

  “What is it?” Williams asked.

  “The steering,” Ortiz replied and suddenly the wheel went loose in her hands. She stomped on the brakes and the Humvee wheels screeched.

  “L
ook out!” Cleveland yelled from the seat beside Tasha but it was too late and the vehicle crashed into a car parked on the side of the road. Tasha’s head whipped forward and smacked the back of William’s seat but she was protected by her helmet. Everybody sat silent for a moment.

  “Sergeant!” Tanner called from the top of the Humvee. Tasha did not like the sound of urgency in Tanner’s voice.

  Williams ignored Tanner and looked at Ortiz. “Corporal, what happened?” he asked.

  Ortiz spun the steering wheel and it went round and round. She looked at Williams. “You tell me,” she said.

  “Shit!” Williams complained.

  “Sergeant!” Tanner called again from the top of the Humvee.

  “I know,” Williams said without looking up at Tanner. “How many?”

  “Five,” Tanner said. “No, scratch that. Six. Shit. Seven. They’re coming out of the buildings.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Williams said and started to unhook the radio on the dashboard. “Screw it. Everyone grab what you can and get ready to move. Tanner. Light them up.”

  “You got it,” Tanner replied and opened fire with the .50 cal.

  Tasha grabbed her backpack, rifle, and a box of the MREs and got out of the Humvee. Williams stood next to her with his rifle slung over his shoulder and the radio held under his arm. Tanner stopped shooting long enough to hand Cleveland the SAW machine gun and Ortiz came running around the front of the Humvee with a five gallon water jug. Tasha watched as Tanner cut down the remaining creepers with the .50 cal from the top of the Humvee. Once all of the creepers were down, he reached into the vehicle, grabbed his sniper rifle and jumped down next to the rest of them.

  “Follow me,” Williams ordered and the group ran through an alley between two warehouses. Halfway down, he stopped next to a dumpster and pulled a grenade from a belt on his flak vest.

  “Ortiz,” he said. “Take Cleveland and see if you can find us somewhere to hide for the night.”

  “Sergeant?” Ortiz asked.

  “Just do it,” Williams said. “I’m not walking all the way to Command tonight in the dark. We hunker down, get some shut eye and then we’ll find some fresh wheels in the morning.”

  “Okay, Sergeant,” she said.

  “Get a move on,” he said. He turned to Tasha and Tanner. “You two, get behind me.” Tasha and Tanner scrambled to get behind Williams as Ortiz and Cleveland went looking for an unlocked door. Once everyone was clear, Williams pulled the pin on the first grenade and lobbed it down the alley. It bounced once and rolled under a car. A second later it erupted, setting off the gas tank, resulting in a spectacular explosion.

  “That should give those vegetables something to screw around with,” Williams said. “Let’s go.” He turned and the three of them ran in the direction Ortiz and Cleveland had gone. Rounding a corner, Tasha saw Ortiz running back towards them.

  “This way,” Ortiz said and without waiting for a response, she turned around and led them down the street toward a warehouse building which had its front door kicked in. Cleveland was waiting, gun ready, scanning the area. The group stopped outside and looked around.

  “Leave the heavy shit here,” Williams said. “Ortiz, come with me. Let's make sure no one is home.”

  Williams lead with his rifle into the building, followed by Ortiz while Tanner, Cleveland, and Tasha waited outside with the water, food, and radio. Tasha looked at the sky. It was dark and smelled to her like it was about to rain. I hope those two make it quick, she thought. After a few minutes, Williams and Ortiz came back out of the building. “All clear,” Williams said. “Looks like we got lucky. There is a stairway in the back to an office with a solid door. Looks safe enough.”

  They picked up the supplies and Williams led them to the stairs. Going up, they found the office, went in, and barricaded the door with old office furniture. “Ok,” Williams said. “Let's get some chow, get some shut eye, and then make our move in the morning.”

  “I can take the first guard shift,” Tanner volunteered.

  “Sounds good,” Williams said. “See if you can get hold of Command on the radio too. Let them know we’re on foot and see if they can send out an extraction team or something. It’s a long shot, but we won’t know if we don’t ask.”

  Tasha did not know if she would be included in the guard rotation, but thought she should at least offer. “I’ll take second shift,” she said.

  Williams looked at her and for a second she thought he was going to tell her to forget it, but finally he nodded. “Okay,” Williams said. “Ortiz, you take third, then Cleveland, and wake me last.”

  They all opened an MRE and ate in silence before they made space to sleep. Everyone but Tanner laid down on the carpet. Cleveland began snoring almost immediately. Tasha sighed. No way am I going to sleep with that racket, she thought. Instead she watched Tanner. He was using the radio and speaking quietly into the hand microphone. After a few minutes, Tasha decided she might as well just get up, so she went over to Tanner and asked him if there was any good news. Tanner shook his head.

  “I got hold of Command,” he said. “No luck on an extraction.”

  “I didn’t think they would,” she replied.

  “Me neither,” Tanner said. “But like the Sergeant said, no harm in asking. I did find out why they need your blood type though.”

  Tasha perked up. “Why?” she asked.

  “They had a survivor who came in a few days back. Some guy. He was all messed up from an attack by a vegetable but the thing is, he didn’t turn. It’s like he was immune to the infection. Apparently it’s the first time anyone has been confirmed immune. He died, but not from the virus and some expert doctor guy came in to figure out why. They think it had something to do with the man’s blood type. Same as yours. B-negative.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, no shit,” Tanner said and smiled. “You could be the single most important person left on the planet.”

  “Wow,” she repeated. “So much for sleeping now.”

  “Hey,” he said, moving close to her. “I’m just joking.” He pulled a packet of peanut butter out of his pocket. “I saved this for you,” he said.

  “Thank you,” Tasha replied and took the peanut butter. She had a dozen more, but she kept that information to herself. Instead she smiled at him. “Listen, I’m not going to sleep any time soon. Why don’t you get some shut eye?”

  “You sure?” Tanner asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Cool, thanks,” he said. With that, Tanner moved off into a corner. Tasha was amazed when he was asleep almost immediately. Must be a military thing, she thought.

  As Tasha sat alone in the darkness, she heard it begin to rain outside. She thought about her last couple of days. It felt good to be with people again, but she wanted to do something to show them she belonged. But how? she wondered. Thinking, she ran her fingers through her hair. It was tangled and her fingers caught. Frustrated, she pulled at the mat of hair. It was a mess. She could not remember the last time she had washed it and knew it had to look horrible. And I don’t even want to think about how it probably smells to everyone else. Then she had an idea.

  She loved her hair and had been wearing it long for years. When she did not keep it tied up or in a ponytail, the back would almost reach her waist. It had been her most attractive feature in high school and was the first thing people would compliment her on. Most of the time, when it was just washed, she would let it hang straight. Then when it would get just a little wet, like in the morning mist, it would curl just a bit. It was at those times she felt she was the most beautiful.

  But this isn’t high school anymore, she thought. Her hair constantly got in her face with the wind and it was impossible to keep clean. Plus both her attacker and one of the creepers had been able to catch hold of it, nearly costing her life, both times. With sudden conviction, she dug through her backpack and found one of her candles. Next she took out her knife and a small mirror. She lit the candle and
looked in the mirror. She was a little shocked. I look like hell, she thought. It had to go. She started with her bangs. Grabbing a handful of hair and using her knife, she started cutting. The hair came free and she looked down at it. It was just hair. She realized it did not define her anymore. That was the old me, she thought. Feeling empowered, Tasha took another handful of hair from the side and cut it down to just a couple of inches from the scalp. There’s no turning back now, she thought and took another handful of hair from the same side and sliced it away. She worked her way around to the back, grabbing handfuls of hair and sliced it away with the knife. She knew the knife was razor sharp, but it still took her a few tries before she could just cut away the hair without feeling like she was pulling it out of her scalp. It ended up taking a lot longer to finish than she had thought it would. Her shoulders started to ache from holding her arms up, but she had to finish and kept going until she could no longer find any loose strands.

  Tasha looked down at all of her hair, lying in clumps in her lap. She gathered it together and tied the longer strands into a knot. She thought about keeping it, but could not think of any good reason to. So, she threw the knot of hair into an empty corner and took out the packet of peanut butter Tanner had given her and quietly began to eat.

  CLARK

  Clark sat in a red netted seat and looked out the open door of a UH-60 Blackhawk helicopter. He watched the sun rise and wondered just what in the hell he had gotten himself into. The wind came in waves and kept rocking the helicopter. Just another spring morning in Seattle, he thought and ground his teeth. He was decked out in the same military gear as Rocha, just smaller in size. He had a helmet, mask, camouflage uniform, a boot knife, and a pistol. Rocha and Clark had discussed him carrying an assault rifle, but since Clark’s experience shooting rifles was limited to video games, they decided that a knife and pistol would be safest. Clark also wore a fine chain-link suit under his uniform.

 

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