Paul nodded. “Okay. You sure you don’t want me to come with?”
“No, but sit in the driver’s seat. If I come running, start the truck, but leave it in park and get back to your seat. That way I can jump in and go.”
“Got it.”
Daniel walked to the side of the road, staying near the curb as he approached the house. It was a large structure, with wood siding and lots of windows. The yard was bare of growth with the exception of rows of Douglas Firs which lined the left and right property lines. The rest of the yard was covered in pine needles that had fallen from the trees surrounding the property. As he got closer, Daniel was able to see through the living room picture window, into the large living room. Right away, Daniel could tell something bad had happened inside the big house. A floor lamp was knocked over, leaning against a rocking chair that sat in front of the big, rock covered hearth that surrounded the fireplace. The lamp flickered, still being fed by electricity but shorting from a damaged connection. The flickering light created a strobe-like effect in the dark room, lighting it up every second or two as the bulb struggled to maintain a constant light. The fact that a light was knocked over, its light flickering in the living room at just after six o’clock in the morning was a bad sign for sure, but he needed to know if the threat was still present.
Crossing the front yard, staying to the far left side of the property, Daniel inched closer, trying to look inside the residence. When he reached the edge of the house, he hugged its side as he moved towards the window. Reaching its edge, he leaned forward, peering around the corner to see into the living room. Near the fireplace, a thin old man wearing overalls and a flannel shirt was lying on the wood covered floor, surrounded by a rapidly drying pool of blood. The man’s eyes stared at the ceiling, his face frozen in fear. The man’s throat had a sizeable chunk missing from it, and his life’s blood had exited rapidly through the gaping hole. Looking to the right, Daniel saw a thin, elderly woman with bluish tinted hair, lying on her side in her own pool of blood. A fireplace poker protruded from her back, puncturing the polyester fabric of her flowered blouse. The poker’s other end was sticking out of her stomach, resting on the floor in front of her, keeping her body in a leaning position. The woman’s hands were covered in blood, the left one holding a piece of bloody meat which looked to be similar in size and shape to the section that was missing from the man’s throat. In the fireplace, the remnants of the previous night’s fire smoldered, sending up a thin trail of smoke.
Shaking his head, Daniel walked around the house, looking through the other windows for signs of life. When he’d circled the entire structure and seen no indications that anyone remained within, he crossed the yard and entered the back area of the house. He walked across the yard, pine needles crunching under his feet as he approached the residence directly behind the home, planning out the path he’d take with the truck. It’d be an easy course, weaving through the trees to get to the other property and past it to the street. As long as the other home was empty.
The house in question was low, one story structure that, like the home he’d just examined, was covered in wood shingles. Off to one side of the yard was a set of patio furniture surrounding a small fire pit. The back door to the house was open, and a woman laid across the threshold, her right hand extended as if she were trying to reach for something. It was hard to tell anything about the woman based on what remained of her face, which looked as if it'd been smashed repeatedly against the concrete of the steps that led up into the house. Her thin blouse was torn and stained with blood splatters, as were her jeans. Her dark hair fanned out around her head, stuck in the mess of blood that covered the steps.
Looking past the woman’s body into the home, Daniel stopped in his tracks, his shoulders slumping as his will temporarily left him.
What kind of world were they living in where a baby, still clad in a little pink onesie, could be savagely ripped apart?
It was nearly too much for him, and he lowered his head for a moment, closing his eyes as he tried to move past what he’d seen. Whatever the infection was doing to people, it was clearly removing any trace of humanity from them.
A twig snapped, then another, followed by the sound of pine needles being crushed under rapid steps, accompanied by a deep, growling sound.
Turning to the sound of the noise, Daniel saw one of the infected rushing towards him.
CHAPTER FORTY SIX
Mount Weather Emergency Operations Center, Virginia
“Alright, so I guess I need to figure out which one of you will run things here while I’m gone.”
Looking at Doctor Chang skeptically, Lisa Bowman asked, “You’re going?”
Pushing his glasses back up onto his nose, he sucked in his gut a bit before responding. It didn’t help.
“Yes. I’m the leader of the team, and I’m not going to put either of you at risk.”
Stepping forward, Doctor Reed reached out and clasped Andrew on the shoulder, gripping it tightly. “Come on, Andrew. You know it has to be me. I’m in the best shape of any of us - no offense Lisa -”
“None taken,” she replied, looking Reed up and down.
“- and she’s out anyway because of her spinal surgery. On top of that, I’ve actually skydived before.” He pointed at Doctor Bowman, grinning slyly. “Cut it out.”
Chang cleared his throat. “How about both of you cut it out? This is serious business.” He placed his hand on his desk, resting his weight on it as he regarded the pair briefly before focusing his attention on the tall black doctor. “Just because you’re in the best shape doesn’t mean you’re the right choice.”
“Andrew…”
“You’re both young, smart, and healthy. I’m….” He held out his arms, shrugging. He’d never been much into exercise, but had typically stayed relatively thin. Over the last two weeks, though, his gut had grown a bit from the long days and poor dietary choices. “Not that young,” he finished. “Mankind needs people like you two when all of this is over.”
Doctor Bowman held up her hand, stopping him. “Woah, woah, woah. Hold on, Andrew. We’re not a couple, regardless of what you think happened. We’re not going to repopulate the earth, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Chang felt himself turning red. “I’m sorry, I thought-“
Lisa smiled, continuing. “Relax. I’m not saying nothing happened. I’m just saying that doesn’t make us a couple.”
Confused, Andrew looked over at Jonathan, who shook his head in response. “Just spending time together...”
Frustrated, Chang put his hands out in front of him, stopping the way the conversation was going. “Whatever. Look, I just don’t think it’s right for you to risk your life when it’s my responsibility as the leader-”
Andrew was interrupted by the door to the lab opening. Five men streamed into the room, each wearing camouflage tactical pants and tight fitting short sleeve dri-fit shirts, which revealed solid, carved muscles. Their boots made little sound on the tiled floor as they entered and formed a line in front of the doctors. All five were close in height and weight, about six foot two, and two hundred pounds, though one looked slightly bigger than the others. None of them showed the slightest bit of emotion as they stood there, staring at Chang, Bowman, and Reed.
The first one to enter, a Hispanic looking man with short black hair and multiple days worth of facial growth, stepped forward. The name tag on his uniform said Serrano. He looked over the three doctors, measuring them with his eyes. Andrew felt himself trying to suck in his gut further as he stood up straighter, meeting the man’s gaze.
Serrano pointed his finger at Doctor Reed. “I hope you’re the one that’s going with us.”
“Yes,” Reed replied, then added, “well, actually, we were just discussing that when you walked in.”
The man held up his hand. “Look, no offense to you - ” he nodded at Andrew, “or you,” this time he nodded at Doctor Bowman, “but this is gonna be a tough mission and one tha
t is physically demanding. We’re going to parachute in, landing about four miles away from either of the two spots this Doctor, ummm ...what's his name, Roberts? Where he could be. From the moment we land, we’ll basically be running the whole time, and every member - EVERY member - will be carrying a pack with gear. This won’t be easy, and we can’t have anyone slowing us down.” He stared at the group of doctors, his jaw set. “You keep up, or you get left behind.”
Andrew shrugged, giving up. “Okay. I understand. Doctor Reed here is clearly in the best shape of any of us. It should be him.”
“Good.” He turned to Doctor Reed momentarily, before looking back at the three of them as a group, he continued. “We need to know what we’re going there to retrieve and where you think this Doctor is more likely to be. The quicker we’re in and out, the higher the likelihood that we all make it back. From what we’ve heard, aside from the fires, gangs have taken over large sections of the city.”
Andrew was surprised at how nervous he felt around these men. In his profession, he and his peers were focused on saving lives.
These men had been trained to take them.
Finding his voice, he responded. “Well, Mister Serrano - ”
Serrano burst out into laughter immediately at hearing Andrew’s words, and the others joined in immediately, laughing heartily.
Serrano put up his hand, “Sorry, my bad. I don’t go by ‘Mister.’” He managed between laughs. “I also don’t go by ‘Sir.’ You can call me Serrano or Chili. I’m the team lead for SEAL Team Eight, here. What I say out there goes.” He paused, waiting to make sure his words resonated before continuing. “This guy,” he jabbed his thumb towards a slightly heavier, more thickly muscled white guy with a scraggly beard. “Is Orlosky. Call him Skee. He’s my second in command. Over there,” he pointed at a tall, lean, Asian man. “That’s Kim. Call him Dash. That’s short for Kardashian, just so you know.”
Kim raised his hand, extending his middle finger, his face a mask, free of emotion.
“This,” Serrano put his hand on a slightly shorter black man whose head was cleanly shaven and who looked to be entirely made of muscle, “is Jefferson. Goes by Jay Jay. And last but not least, the guy there playing with the blade,” Serrano nodded towards a thin, red-haired man that was constantly spinning a black metal dagger in his hand, “is Perelli. You can call him Spider.”
Suddenly, the group seemed more human than they had when they first entered. Andrew smiled. “Chili, Skee, Dash, Jay Jay, and Spider. Got it.”
Kim showed his middle finger to Andrew. “With all due respect, doc.”
The collective group of them burst into laughter at Kim’s statement, finding common ground in the humor it provided. Doctor Chang was surprised at how good it felt to laugh, and it occurred to him that it had been quite a while since he’d done so.
When the laughter subsided, Andrew looked over at Serrano. “You already know his name, and it sounds like you know where he lives and works, is that right?”
Serrano looked over at Orlosky, who stepped forward and dropped a thin folder onto the closest desk, opening it. On the left side of the folder, there was a picture of Doctor Michael Roberts, along with his characteristics, which Serrano recited from memory, never breaking eye contact with Andrew. “Doctor Michael Roberts, six foot two, approximately one hundred and ninety eight pounds. Age fifty-two , non-smoker. Broke his left arm at age 8, moderately high cholesterol levels, but in relatively good health. Considers himself an atheist, hates flying.”
When he finished, he looked down at the right side of the folder, which had a printout showing a satellite view of a metropolitan area. Orlosky pointed at the page. When he spoke, his voice was deep and gruff. “This shows the area around his condo, which is...” Looking closer, his finger settled on a structure. “...here.”
He paused, then flipped the page, showing another satellite view. “His workplace.” The big man’s finger quickly found a large structure. “He works on the fifth floor.”
Serrano stepped in, turning the page over to reveal another piece of paper, this one folded over. He unfolded it twice, revealing a satellite view of the larger area. The two locations Orlosky had shown them were circled in red. Serrano pointed at a large green area on the map, southeast of the two locations. “We’re targeting this golf course as our landing zone. There are fires burning here, here, and here,” he pointed at the Brentwood, Santa Monica, and West Hollywood areas on the map, “but I’m mostly concerned about the fires burning here.” His finger settled on Bel Air, which was just north of UCLA. “It’s a massive area, with lots of fuel to burn. Fortunately, the winds seem to be keeping the fires away from Roberts's workplace. For now.” He paused, staring at the printout as he considered the situation.
After a minute, he stood back and looked at Chang, Bowman, and Reed. “That’s what we know. Tell us what we’re going into the city for. I sure as fuck hope it’s important, because we haven’t trained much for going into American cities that are in the process of burning to the ground.”
Over the next forty minutes, the three doctors took turns explaining the situation, what they’d learned about the virus, the likely causes and correlations, and most importantly, what they hoped to learn when they located Doctor Roberts, assuming he was still alive. Unanimously, they agreed that his most likely location would be his office. Any doctor responsible for releasing such a contagion would be working furiously to find a way to reverse it.
As they explained things to the SEAL team, it became clear that the men were more than just tough guys skilled in combat. They all followed the descriptions and definitions provided by the doctors easily, and asked relevant questions that led and contributed to the conversation. In the end, the five men sat back, thinking about everything they’d discussed.
After a while, Spinelli spoke up, looking at Doctor Chang. “There’s no saving the infected people, is there, doc?”
Doctor Chang shook his head slowly, a somber look on his face. “Sorry.”
Spinelli nodded.
The room went quiet as the eight of them absorbed the enormity of what that implied. The doctors had been living with the weight of this knowledge for some time, but that didn’t mean it was easier to accept. Serrano, seeing the team needed to refocus, stood up and took charge of his team, taking a quick glance at his watch. “Alright guys, flight leaves at midnight. That puts us in L.A. at sunrise, giving us maximum daylight to accomplish our mission. No matter how you look at it, we don’t want to be in that city after dark.
“With that said, we have just under twelve hours before mission brief. Let’s get some chow and prep for the mission.” He turned to Doctor Reed. “Doc, I suggest you do the same. Sergeant Mason will be out front to pick you up at twenty-three hundred and take you over to the hangar where we’ll brief. After the brief, we’ll get you suited up and GTFO. Don’t worry too much about your clothes. We’ve got gear for you at the hangar.”
Reed looked back at him, confused. “GTFO?”
Turning away with a grin, Serrano walked to the door, following behind his men. “Get the fuck out, doc. Now, go get some chow. Who knows when we’ll eat again. We’ll get you set up with all your gear in a bit. Don’t sleep, though. We fly out at balls - sorry, midnight, and if you’re really tired, you might actually get some decent sleep on the airplane.” With that, he stepped through the door and out into the hallway, letting the door close behind him.
Doctor Reed turned back to the others and shrugged. “I guess we should go eat.”
Andrew cocked his head, looking at Jonathan quizzically. “Fly out at balls?”
Jonathan shrugged. “Maybe Sergeant Mason will know. We can ask him later.”
Andrew nodded, looking over at Lisa. She nodded as well, not making eye contact. If Andrew was right, her face showed concern for a brief second before she stood up and looked back at her desk, straightening papers unnecessarily. “Okay.”
Together, the three of them went to the
DFAC, talking as they walked through the hallways. They discussed what they needed from Doctor Roberts, as well as what extra precautions Jonathan should take just in case the team was to come in contact with any of the infected. For his part, Andrew tried to take on the calming, older brother role. He saw more and more indications that Lisa considered her time with Jonathan more than just ‘two people keeping each other company.’ She was showing legitimate worry over the danger of the mission, and at least once Andrew thought he might have seen a bit of extra moisture in her eyes before she blinked rapidly to make it go away.
Jonathan, on the other hand, seemed nervous about keeping up with the trained warriors who would be leading him into a potential battlefield. As Andrew watched, he saw Jonathan go quiet on multiple occasions, his eyes staring forward at the food on his plate without registering it.
Trying to distract him, Andrew reached over and patted the big man on the shoulder. “Thanks for volunteering, Jon. I know you’re the right choice, and I know you’ll do well.”
Nodding, still staring at his plate, Reed replied, “Let’s just hope I can get what we need.”
Serrano and his team strode through the hallway, back towards the entrance to the building, their minds focused on the mission ahead and the things they needed to do in advance of the mission briefing. Together, the team had done close to a hundred missions over the last four years. Some were quick and easy, others were much more difficult, and in some cases, lengthy. They’d each taken fire in the field, and each had the scars to prove it. They’d patched each other up in the field, and on several instances, risked everything to ensure they returned as a unit, leaving no one behind.
They trusted each other implicitly, brothers in every way except biologically, sharing a bond stronger than steel, forged in fire.
Striding at his side, Orlosky rubbed his scraggly beard as he spoke. “Chili, you think the doc will be okay?”
Surviving Rage | Book 1 Page 45