Serafina came around the corner, looking at the girl. “Who’s this?” She asked, then quickly followed with, “And what is that smell?”
Seeing the two of them looking at her, the girl responded, “I’m Isabella,” before looking at her feet. “Sorry about the smell.”
Brenna turned slightly towards Serafina. “She says it helps hide from the infected.”
Serafina nodded, pondering the statement. “Hunh. Good to know.” She looked at the girl and smiled. “That’s very smart.”
The girl’s face went slack as she stared beyond where Serafina and Brenna stood.
From behind them, a man’s voice asked, “Well, now, what do we have here?”
CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN
Reed’s lungs burned as he ran, struggling to keep up with the team. They’d abandoned any sense of formation, though Serrano kept an eye on Reed to make sure they didn’t lose him. For all of his hours running on the treadmill or along the Chicago Lakefront Trail, it hadn’t prepared him for running with twenty extra pounds of gear, wearing full military fatigues, in 90 degree heat, with air that was thick with ash. His running form had turned to crap over the last half mile as he focused only on keeping his legs moving. Leaning forward under the weight of his pack, his arms making only half-hearted swinging motions, he held his head up, his chin tilted skyward as he tried to suck in air. He felt a hand on his back, grabbing his pack, and he looked over his shoulder. It was Skee.
“I gotcha,” he said, lifting Reed’s pack slightly, signaling he wanted to take it from him.
Reed’s pride wanted to turn down the offer of assistance, but his mind knew better. He was running on fumes, and any help would be a lifesaver at this point.
“Thanks.”
Skee lifted the pack off of Reed, who slid his arms out of the straps, letting the big man take it from him. Skee tossed it under his left arm, never breaking stride. He seemed unfazed by the additional weight, looking straight ahead, his jaw set with determination.
They’d run as fast as they could away from Doctor Roberts's condominium building, hearing the sounds of the infected slamming their bodies against the gate, screaming in fury as they did. The noise faded as the distance increased, becoming a dull roar in the distance.
The fact that the infected lacked the mental capacity to realize that the gate opened inward wasn’t lost on the team. It likely saved their lives.
The sudden deaths of Dash and Spider added to the darkness of the day, weighing on their minds as they ran away from the scene. The image of Spider, falling to his death under the weight of the two infected men, played on loop in Doctor Reed’s mind, making him want to stop and throw up the little bit of food he’d eaten.
He wondered how Dash had died and if it had been worse.
Could it be?
Maybe.
Serrano led the group left, onto Le Conte Avenue, continuing for a block before slowing his run, eventually coming to a walk. The street was a residential one, with houses lining each side of the street. Serrano brought them to a stop in front of a home on the right with big trees in the front and hedges lining both sides of the property, moving them onto the grass under the tree.
“Sit.” He said, looking at Reed, before pulling out his navigation device, checking their position. As he stared at the screen, he pulled his canteen from his belt, absentmindedly taking a swig.
Reed lowered himself to the ground, thankful for the break. Before he realized what he was doing, he was laying on the grass, his arms outspread as he tried to catch his breath. He closed his eyes as he rested, but opened them a few minutes later when he kept seeing the images of Spider falling. He looked to his left and right, expecting to see the others sitting on the grass near him, catching their breath.
Instead, Chili, Skee, and J.J. were looking at the map on the navigation device, discussing options. None of them appeared even slightly winded from the run.
‘Jesus,’ Reed said, bringing himself to a seated position, feeling slightly embarrassed but not ready to stand. He pulled his canteen from his belt, unscrewing the top and taking a short drink from it. Looking back towards the house, he saw the drapes that covered the front window shift slightly. “Guys!” He whispered, “there’s someone in the house!”
“We know.” Skee answered, not taking his eyes from the navigation device.
Struggling to his feet, Reed walked over to them. “What do you mean, ‘you know?’”
Serrano looked briefly at him. “Look, there are three types of people we can encounter.” He held up one finger, “The infected, gangs, or people who are simply trying to survive. The first two are threats. The last isn’t going to go starting trouble.” He looked over his shoulder, back towards the house.
“They’re inside, hoping we’ll leave, which we will, as soon as we’re done plotting out the route. Our run down Westholme wasn’t part of the plan.”
Reed nodded, glancing at the house one last time before turning his back to it in an effort to put the occupants at ease. He looked at the street. Abandoned cars, some of which had caught fire and burned to a crisp, riddled the road, along with dead bodies, which crows landed on, picking at them repeatedly.
He briefly wondered if it would ever be the same before realizing it never could.
The world could never be the same.
Things could be rebuilt, cleaned, sanitized, or removed. Plants, trees, and grass could be replanted. Structures could be rebuilt.
Lives could start over, but the memory of this outbreak would change the world forever.
The requirement for increased safety when testing new drugs was trivial in comparison to the fundamental changes mankind would endure, should it survive. It wasn’t the infected that would haunt people in the long run. It was what they had seen from those who weren’t infected, those who chose to embrace their most primal, savage instincts, putting their own desires ahead of the need for mankind to come together in a time of crisis.
Did the human race deserve to survive?
“Alright, let’s get going.” Serrano said, sliding his navigation device back into his chest pocket, under the Kevlar vest he wore. “You good, Doc?”
Reed nodded. “Yeah. This air sucks.”
“Agree.”
As they headed out, Skee made no effort to return Reed’s pack, continuing to carry it under his arm as he fell back into formation behind Reed. Walking at a quick pace, Serrano led the way, followed by J.J., who seemed the most rattled of the three by what had happened. At twenty-two, he was the youngest member of the team, and until today, he’d begun to think of the SEAL Team Eight as invincible. The loss of Dash and Spider had been a sobering reminder that no one is invincible.
Feeling slightly guilty, Reed motioned for Skee to pass his pack back to him. The big man nodded, passing it with one hand, the weight inconsequential in his powerful arms.
Sliding it onto his back, Reed immediately felt the aching in his shoulders, upper back, and neck return. He thanked Skee before turning away, grimacing once his face was out of view.
He wondered if they would talk about what had happened back at Doctor Roberts's condo, but figured that perhaps the rule was to finish the mission, then mourn those who had been lost. It made sense. Stay focused in the now, face the sorrow later.
The group continued down Le Conte Avenue for several minutes, weaving between the cars and bodies in the road, before reaching Manning Avenue, which would take them straight into the campus. Serrano never broke stride, turning and marching up the street, his hands holding the MP4 tightly as his head turned left and right, scanning for threats.
Like Le Conte Avenue, Manning Avenue was a residential street, with multi-million dollar homes lining each side of the road. Luxury cars sat forgotten in driveways, their owners either dead or departed. Lawns, previously perfectly manicured, lush, healthy, and green, were now overgrown, brown, and full of weeds. Most homes had several windows broken, a few had front doors standing open, some with the home
’s owner dead in the front yard or on the steps leading to the house.
As they walked up the street, they saw movement in one of the bushes and paused, taking up positions behind the burnt husks of cars. The team watched the bush, trying to determine what was causing the movement, and breathed a sigh of relief when a young German Shepherd emerged, looking thin and hungry. They rose to their feet, ready to move on. The dog froze, staring at them.
“Here, girl.” Skee said, holding out a protein bar, which he’d pulled from his pack and unwrapped.
“Careful, we don’t know if the dog’s infected.” Serrano cautioned.
Reed shrugged. “Actually, evidence indicates that animals are not affected by the virus. Several families had their pets quarantined upon arrival at the base out of fear that they could carry the virus, but blood tests were negative and the pets showed no effects. We conducted tests on lab rats, then rabbits, then finally domesticated animals, and none contracted the virus after direct contact.”
Skee smiled, his toothy grin looking out of place on his hard, bearded face. He turned back to the dog. “Come on, sweetie.”
The dog stared at the group warily, its tail between its legs, as it walked backwards slowly, retreating. Skee stepped forward, crouching slightly as he offered half of the bar.
“We don’t have time for this.” Serrano growled impatiently.
“Just give me a second.” Skee replied, dropping to one knee, his arm extended. “Come here, girl. Get a treat.”
Out of desperation, the dog slunk forward slowly, pausing every few steps, ready to bolt. Skee continued to wait, offering the protein bar calmly, speaking in soothing tones to the dog. After several minutes, the dog was finally close enough to grab the piece with its teeth, and it pulled it away, moving a few feet back as it chewed, looking sideways at Skee. “You alright, girl?” He said, extending another piece.
The dog stepped forward more quickly this time, taking the piece gently from Skee’s hand, eating it there in front of him. Skee put forward his gloved hand, letting the dog smell it, then gently rubbed the dog’s head, causing the dog to wag its tail ever so slightly.
“Skee, time to move out,” Serrano ordered.
“Yes, Chief.” Skee rubbed the dog’s head once more, standing and lookin g down at the sleek animal. “Good luck, girl.”
As the group continued down the street, approaching the intersection where it entered campus, the dog fell in behind them, following them dutifully.
In just a few minutes, Skee had made a friend.
“Great.” Serrano muttered, guiding them right on Hilgard Avenue, past the Greek houses that lined the street. From all appearances, the Frat and Sorority houses had been some of the first to go, most likely due to the close quarters and high occupancy that characterized the homes. One party would spread the virus like wildfire.
The homes were trashed, with broken windows, open doors, and bodies on the lawns, entryways, and even the roofs of the homes. One home had a truck embedded in its front room, the back end of the vehicle sticking out onto the porch. Several had evidence of fire, but still remained standing, their walls blackened with soot.
The dog followed the four men, remaining abreast of Skee, looking over at him routinely, as if she were making sure the nice man was still there.
Turning left, they entered the campus, passing one of the massive parking structures that dotted the campus. To the left was a long, rectangular building with a short lawn and thick hedges surrounding it. At the corner of the lawn was a sign that read:
Institute of the Environment and Sustainability
UCLA Department of Biomathematics
Biomedical Sciences Research Building
UCLA School of Dentistry
Serrano pointed at the third listing. “That’s where his office is. Fifth floor.” Without another word, he led the team between the buildings, scanning constantly. The campus seemed incredibly empty, given the number of students that attended the school, and it made the team feel uneasy. Working their way towards the Research Building, they were on edge, waiting for an attack to come at any moment. Even the dog seemed concerned, moving closer to Skee, closing the distance to only a few feet. Like the humans, the dog moved its head about constantly, looking for danger as it walked alongside its new friend.
Approaching the Research Building, they realized they were on the side of the structure. To the right, the sidewalk led to the front of the building, where the main entrance would be. They followed the sidewalk, coming to a stop in front of the main entrance. The group huddled around Serrano, who took a drink from his canteen. The others followed suit, sipping the water slowly, conserving what they had. Serrano decided they’d hit the first vending machine they saw and get whatever water they could to refill their canteens. The oppressive heat, combined with the acrid, dry air, required them to drink much more water than they’d anticipated.
Serrano put his canteen back on his belt and waited for the group’s attention before beginning. “Okay. We’re going in as a group this time. Skee will be first. J.J., you’re next, but your job is to shadow Doctor Reed here at all times. I’ll bring up the rear, watching our six. When we get inside, stick to the walls, move silently, and check around corners carefully before entering spaces, including hallways.
“Doc here is certain all pertinent research and notes will be here, so we’ll be spending some time in Roberts's office. When we get there, Skee, you’ll clear the offices on the far side, I’ll clear those on the near side. J.J., you’ll clear Roberts's office before Doc goes in. We clear?”
Skee, J.J., and Reed nodded.
“Alright. Inside the building, use knives if we encounter infected. Gunfire will echo and bring more of them. Take time now to make sure all skin is covered. Close quarters knife fights will get blood on you. Make sure it won’t come in contact with your skin.”
The team checked their uniforms, gloves, boots, and goggles before bringing up waterproof neoprene balaclavas to cover their faces. The heat level increased immediately, causing them to sweat profusely, but the protection was necessary, the inconvenience worth it.
Serrano looked at the men individually in turn, making eye contact, his face serious. “No mistakes. I’m not losing anymore men.” With that, he stepped aside, letting Skee take the lead.
The big man stepped forward, grabbing the door and pulling it open. As he did, the German Shepherd fell in behind him, following him into the building. Skee turned around, whispering to the dog, pointing towards the door. “Hey, girl, why don’t you wait outside?” The dog looked back over her shoulder, then back at Skee, flattening her ears as she pleaded with her eyes. “Shit. Alright, girl, then you have to be quiet.”
Serrano came over the comm system. “No, Skee. The dog will growl, or worse, bark. Gotta leave her here or outside.”
Skee nodded, taking the dog and walking her to the side. “Stay, girl. Stay, okay?” The dog whined, then laid on the floor, looking up at him with sad eyes. “I’ll be back, I promise.” He turned and led the way to the edge of the first corridor. Like most academic buildings, it had a wide stairway in the center, meant to handle the majority of the foot traffic, and smaller stairways at either end of the building. Not wanting to expose the team at each floor, he broke right, heading down the long, tiled hallway. The emergency lighting had given out some time ago when the backup diesel generator ran out of fuel, leaving the hallway in darkness, so Skee turned on the LED flashlight that was mounted to his helmet to light the way, grateful for the wide, powerful swath of light it provided. The balaclava was forcing the heat of his breath up his face, causing his goggles to fog up, reducing his visibility, requiring him to reach up occasionally to pull the lower edge away in order to allow air into clear the lens.
Their boots echoed softly in the long hallway, the only sound present in the eerie darkness. The lack of ventilation in the building meant the air was stale, leaving them breathing air that smelled of whatever food remnants were rot
ting in the trash receptacles. As they approached the women’s restroom, a quiet tapping could be heard inside, causing Skee to pause and look back towards Serrano. He pointed to his ear then towards the restroom. Chili motioned for them to move away from the restroom, and that he would listen to the sound. The others moved forward and out into the center of the hallway as Serrano approached the door slowly, his steps making no sound as he walked. He leaned in, listening intently for over a minute. Satisfied, he stepped back, shook his head, and motioned for them to move on.
When they reached the open staircase at the end of the hallway, Skee stopped at the edge of the wall, motioning for them to stay back while he peered around its edge, looking up the stairs. He signaled for them to remain in place, then quietly disappeared around the corner, ascending the tiled stairs. After a few minutes, he returned, stepping down onto the first level and nodding. He turned and headed back up, signaling for them to follow. They fell in behind him, tracing his footsteps, careful not to disturb the discarded soda cans, potato chip bags, or other trash that might make noise, revealing their presence.
The second floor looked and smelled much the same as the first, though further down the hall, back towards the center staircase, they saw several bodies on the floor when they swung their helmet mounted flashlights in the direction. The team stared in the direction of the bodies for several long minutes, keeping the corpses illuminated with the brilliant white light their torches produced, waiting for any indication that they might still be alive. Seeing none, J.J. and Doctor Reed switched off their lights, relying on the light Skee’s and Chili’s headlamps provided. They repeated the process of having Skee ascend the stairs first, waiting for his return and affirmation that the way was clear before climbing the stairs themselves.
The third and fourth levels followed the pattern of the second, with trash and bodies littering the hallways in the darkness, seen only when illuminated by the wide swath of light emanating from Skee’s headlamp. Occasionally, rats scurried away from the dead bodies, hiding from the light. When each member of the group felt comfortable that the stationary bodies were indeed corpses, they moved on.
Surviving Rage | Book 1 Page 57