Surviving Rage | Book 1

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Surviving Rage | Book 1 Page 47

by Arellano, J. D.


  “Well, there is one thing to our advantage: they lack basic cognitive skills. They only understand rage. That can work against them and to our advantage.”

  Spinelli looked over. “What do you mean, Doc?”

  Reed shrugged. “They’re stupid. They’ll push against doors that pull open. They’ll try to break through steel bars that they could squeeze through. They only understand brute force. Anything requiring finesse is beyond their ability.”

  Spinelli nodded. “I see.”

  Jefferson spoke up. “What about their senses? I mean, can they see, hear, or smell, better or worse than regular people?”

  “Sight should be relatively limited, leaving them nearsighted, but that’s not really a huge help. If they see something moving, they attack. Their sense of smell is likely stronger. They seem to be drawn to humans, and they’re definitely drawn to the presence of fresh blood. Hearing, we’re not sure, but they do respond to noise, so stealth is better.”

  Serrano nodded. “Stealth mission, brothers. In and out.”

  The team nodded, unconsciously checking their gear as they stood there. Serrano looked at the entire group, including the pilots and aircrew. “Any final questions?” He waited patiently, wanting to be sure the unasked question wasn’t swallowed. After a long pause, he gave a short nod, pushing back from the table. “Alright, let’s do this. Spinelli, Kim, help Doctor Reed with his gear. Major, we’ll be out to the aircraft in twenty minutes.”

  “Roger, Chief.”

  Serrano looked at Reed, his face set in stone.

  “I sure hope this is worth it.”

  Jonathan met his gaze unwaveringly.

  “Me too.”

  CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN

  Seeing the man rushing at him, Daniel’s right hand swiftly pulled the knife from his pocket, opening it and extending the blade in one smooth motion as Serafina had taught him.

  Coming at him was a short white man with long brown hair and a pot belly, which was accented by the stained white ribbed tank top he wore. His hair flew behind him as he ran at Daniel, closing the space between them quickly. The man lowered his shoulder, seeking to tackle Daniel to the ground. With a lunge he threw himself forward.

  Knowing better than to try to stop the man’s movement, Daniel slid to the slide, his knife hand flashing forward, slashing through the man’s side from his rib cage to his hip. The man screamed as his body flew past, hitting the ground hard, tumbling repeatedly before sliding to a stop.

  Daniel checked to make sure his jacket and gloves covered any exposed skin, then reached up with his left hand to extend the collar of his shirt up to cover his mouth and nose.

  The man jumped to his feet instantly, his eyes searching wildly before they landed on Daniel. Blood flowed from the wound he’d absorbed, rapidly staining the white tank top and running down onto his jeans. With another scream, he rushed Daniel again.

  Daniel flipped the knife in his hand, the blade extending downward as he pulled his arm back, measuring the man’s approach. At the last possible second, he stepped forward, then to the left, bringing the knife’s edge across the man’s throat as he dove out of the way. The blade cleanly severed the man’s jugular and carotid artery on both sides of his throat, releasing a spray of blood in its wake. The man tumbled to the ground again, rolling in the pine needles and dirt.

  Impossibly, the man stirred, then turned its head towards Daniel. Its eyes found him as blood gushed out of the mortal wound he’d been dealt. He put a hand on the ground as he attempted to push himself up, intent on continuing the assault.

  In an instant, the fight left him as his remaining strength departed as his life’s blood did. He slumped forward, landing face first on the ground. His hands grasped weakly at the leaves and pine needles, stirring a bit of dust into a small cloud.

  Daniel stood at the ready as the man’s life left him, a low gurgling sound accompanying it. When the man’s body went limp, still he waited, looking for any sign of life. After a few minutes, he relaxed, letting out a long breath. He walked forward and wiped the knife’s blade on the man’s clothes, cleaning it the best he could. Looking around, he found the home’s garden hose and went to it, turning it on and using the water to clean the blade further. Ideally, he’d use the water in the kitchen, along with dish soap, to clean the knife, but there was no way he could face what he’d seen there.

  After he finished, he performed a search of the home’s perimeter, warily looking for any other infected people but finding nothing. He made his way back to the set of patio furniture and sat down, needing a few minutes to settle his heartbeat and breathing after what he’d seen and dealt with.

  ‘How can we survive when we’re constantly under assault?’ He wondered, leaning his head back so he could stare at the treetops.

  Movement out of the corner of his eye caught his attention and he turned his head, watching as a small, blue Steller’s Jay flew down from one of the trees and landed on the bird feeder that was secured to the trunk of a nearby tree. The bird looked around, then examined what was left in the feeder. Seeing nothing there, it chirped loudly, then flew off.

  ‘ How you will survive is what you need to determine, Daniel,’ he said to himself, rising to his feet. ‘Because you will.’

  He walked back towards the house, where a small resin shed stood against the home. Opening it, he found a bag of birdseed, which he removed and used to refill the bird feeder. Nodding to himself, he returned the bag to its place in the small shed and closed it. Stepping away from the shed, he paused, then turned back and removed the bag of seed again, this time tucking it under his arm.

  Having birds visit their yard would be beneficial. If they left in a hurry, it would serve as an alert that potential danger was close by.

  Daniel checked to make sure the path the truck would follow through the two yards was passable, then turned and headed back to where Paul was waiting.

  Paul looked at him warily as he approached. He lowered the window a short distance, so that Daniel could hear him.

  “I heard screaming. Are you OK?”

  Daniel nodded, reaching for the door’s handle. “Yeah.” When he tried to open the door, he found it was locked. He wasn’t in the mood for this. “Unlock the door.” His eyes glared at Paul through the window of the truck.

  Paul’s eyes were filled with fear as he responded. “You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

  Daniel sighed, realizing the kid was scared. It was a fair question, considering what was out there. He stepped back, opening his jacket. “I’m fine. See? No blood, no torn clothing. I was attacked, but I dealt with it without being touched.”

  Paul exhaled, relaxing. “Okay, sorry.” He hit a button, unlocking the door. Moving over to the passenger seat, he asked Daniel what happened. Daniel told him what he’d seen and encountered, leaving out the part about the baby.

  No one else needed the nightmares he’d face.

  He stuffed the bag of birdseed under his seat, then drove the truck across the yards of the two homes, making his way towards the other street. When they were near the other home’s front yard, he paused, looking for signs of the neighboring homes’ occupants. Seeing nothing, they drove on, traveling down the street until it got to the next connecting street.

  Paul guided them along the route Daniel had laid out, giving the widest possible berth to the lodge. The streets were quiet as the truck drove through them, its big tires rumbling softly on the gravel that was embedded in the asphalt.

  It was nearly seven when they reached the building supply store, alarming Daniel. The journey had taken far longer than he’d intended, and they’d need to be quick to load up and get back before the lodge’s residents began stirring.

  Driving around to the back of the business, he backed the truck up to the fence that surrounded the property. “Lower the gate.” He said, hopping out of the truck. He used his bolt cutters to snip through the fence, cutting it from the top to the bottom. The fence fell open, creating a path
onto the property.

  Daniel turned to Paul. “Okay. You grab razor wire and barbed wire. Stack it here, next to the truck. We’ll put it in after I load the heavier stuff. We need everything they’ve got, okay?”

  Checking his gloves, Paul nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Alright, let’s get this done.” Daniel went and grabbed the fence posts he’d need. He estimated he needed to put sixteen posters, and since the larger posts required bigger holes and more concrete, he decided to go with the smaller, three-inch posts, which he could secure using only one bag of concrete. He stacked the posts next to the truck, making quick work of it. Next, he located the handtrucks and grabbed a heavy duty one. He rolled it over to where the bags of concrete were and used it to load four at a time, moving them over to the truck. Sixteen posts required sixteen bags, which totaled eight hundred pounds. By the time he’d loaded all of them into the truck, it was sitting lower on its suspension, absorbing but comfortably handling the weight. He stacked the posts on top of the bags, Paul had stacked rolls of razor wire and barbed wire next to each other on the pavement and was still getting more. When Daniel reached for the first roll, the metal snagged the material of his glove, bringing another thought to mind. He set the roll down and went back onto the property of the building supply store. He made his way to the back of the store and looked through one of the windows. The interior of the building was completely dark, save a light that was blinking, indicating an active alarm. He searched for the property’s power panel and found it on the side of the building. The box was locked, secured with a big padlock. Returning to the back area, he found short pieces of rebar and grabbed three of them before heading back to the power panel. The lock was way too strong to be affected by the strength of a piece of rebar, but the metal that was used to make the panel box wasn’t. Wedging three bars between the box and lock, he leaned backwards, exerting force between the two. The thin metal of the box bent, then broke, causing him to lose his balance momentarily when it did. He lifted the lid to the box, and lifted inside, finding the main power breaker and turning it off. He heard an audible clunk as power was secured to the building.

  Walking back to the window he’d looked through before, he looked inside. The light was extinguished. He grabbed a handful of burlap sacks and laid them against the window, muffling the sound when he used the rebar to break the window. Using the piece of rebar, he cleared as much glass as he could from the window frame, then laid the burlap sacks across the lower part before climbing through. Once inside, he went to the back door and opened it before turning to find what he needed.

  Grabbing a five gallon bucket, he searched through the store until he found the gloves they’d need for working with razor wire, thick heavy Grade 5 cut resistant gloves with steel mesh and threw four pairs of varying sizes into the bucket, then went and found hammers and nails. Grabbing three hammers and five boxes of nails of various sizes, he added them to the bucket as well.

  Thinking about other possible challenges they might face, he filled the bucket with electrical tape, wire, and wire strippers, then grabbed a second bucket and added screws of multiple lengths and thicknesses, tubes of glue, camouflage patterned spray paint, sandpaper, wood sealant, and paint brushes.

  Finally, he grabbed several different shovels, including two for post digging, before returning to the truck, where he stashed everything into the bed, finding open spots for them. Paul was there, sitting on the curb as he tried to catch his breath. The young man had done well, procuring fourteen rolls of barbed wire and twelve rolls of razor wire. He rose to his feet and helped Daniel load all of them into the back of the truck, positioning them carefully so that they wouldn’t bounce out should they hit a large rut or take a sharp turn.

  Done with their loading, Daniel returned to the fence and withdrew the carabiners he’d spent the previous evening sanding. Starting at the top of the fence, he used the carabiners to clasp the two ends of the fence together. With the shine removed from them, they blended in fairly well with the fence. While it wouldn’t fool anyone up close, from the road it would be difficult to tell that the fence had been cut open.

  They retraced their route back towards Derek’s place, taking the long route up onto the hill to stay as far away from the lodge as they could. Something was definitely off about the place, and Daniel didn’t want to take chances. He did intend to return and get a closer look, but he’d do so on foot, with binoculars, and at night, when he’d be able to get close without being seen.

  Daniel drove the truck across the two yards again, this time leaving deep tracks in the dirt because of the truck’s heavy load, which concerned him. They’d likely need to use the route again, and having it easily identifiable could lead to an ambush. Pulling the truck off to the side of the street, he put it in park, killed the engine, and got out.

  He had Paul join him as he pulled two of the shovels from the back of the truck. They used the shovels to smooth out the tracks that had been created, then used their feet and hands to cover all of it with pine needles. When they were done, the yards looked much as they had before their arrival.

  The two of them rode in silence as Daniel drove the truck slowly, mindful of the considerable weight in the bed of the truck. He slowed before every bump, pothole, and rut in the road, carefully guiding the big vehicle along the easiest route to minimize wear on the truck’s suspension.

  When they reached Derek’s home, Daniel considered pulling in as planned, but decided against it, realizing they had way too many items to carry. The trip back to his family’s cabin was short, only a little more than a mile, but carrying fifty pound bags of concrete would wear them out quickly.

  Arriving at the family’s cabin, he pulled the truck all the way up onto the property, stopping the truck behind the structure, abreast of his Jeep. The two of them quickly unloaded the truck, setting things on the ground next to the vehicle. By the time they set the last bag of concrete on the ground, they were both tired, their arms, legs, and back weary from the effort. Daniel made his way up onto the gate of the truck, sitting there with his legs dangling off its edge. He motioned for Paul to join him, which the young man did slowly, clearly tired and aching.

  After five minutes, Daniel felt recovered enough to return the truck. Looking over, he saw Paul laying back on the bed of the truck, his hands folded on top of his stomach.

  Realizing the teenager was too winded to make the jog back up the hill, Daniel nudged him on the shoulder and told him to go inside and get some rest while he drove the truck back to his friend’s house. Paul protested briefly, but it was clear he was spent and would need time and food to recover.

  As Paul walked into the house, Daniel backed the truck onto the driveway, turned it around, and drove down the long dirt path, pausing slightly before turning onto the street.

  Driving down the hill, he felt a deep ache in his lower back. ‘Getting old sucks,’ he thought as he made his way back to his friend’s property, where he maneuvered the truck back into its previous spot near the side of the house. He gingerly stepped out of the truck and took a few moments to stretch his back and legs before stashing the key back in the key holder and placing it in the wheel well where he’d found it. Turning away from the truck, he remembered the bird seed, went back to the vehicle’s cabin, and retrieved it, tucking it under his arm before turning away again.

  Walking back to the edge of the property, Daniel opened the gate and stepped through, closing the gate behind him. His plan was to start jogging back immediately, but his legs didn’t have the strength or will in them to begin running so he simply started walking.

  Finding the peacefulness of the small wooded area soothing, he allowed himself to relax as he walked, taking long, deep breaths of fresh mountain air. The air was thin at eight thousand feet, but it was crisp, clean, and cool, giving him a slight recharge as the oxygen flowed into his body.

  Just as he was nearing the edge of the woods, he heard a gunshot off in the direction of the lodge. A few se
conds later, he heard a second. Freezing in place, he remained in the shadows of the trees, waiting to see if there would be more, and, more importantly, if they were getting closer.

  After several minutes it became clear that the shots had ended and were centered around one location. While he wasn’t sure the shooting took place at the lodge, Daniel’s gut told him the people at the lodge were somehow involved, and he wondered if they would decide to expand their foothold in the small city. That was definitely a possibility, and if they did, Daniel and his family would need to be prepared to defend themselves.

  With a renewed energy powered by a sense of urgency, he set off at a jog, traveling down the street before turning left and heading up the hill towards the cabin. About halfway up the hill, the altitude, combined with the fatigue caused by all of the lifting they’d done that morning, caught up with him. Slowing to a walk, he found himself struggling to catch his breath as he worked his way up the hill. He felt the onset of a headache and recognized it as another symptom of his body fighting to deal with the thin air of the mountains.

  As he neared the top of the hill, he found himself close to his neighbor’s house again, with its white paneling and dark roof. Running his gaze along the length of the home’s front, Daniel stopped suddenly in surprise, staring openly.

  Inside the home’s screened in porch stood his neighbor, tall and proud, staring back at him.

  Unsure of what to do, Daniel raised a hand slightly, waving at the man, who nodded in return. The man motioned across his body, in the direction Daniel had come from. Understanding what he meant, Daniel looked back down the hill. Seeing no one, he turned back to face the man and shook his head. The man stepped forward and pushed open the door to the porch.

  Daniel walked across the driveway and up onto the man’s porch. As he entered, he took hold of the door and closed it behind him gently, making sure it didn’t bang against the doorframe.

 

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