Knowing the family had a long night of work to do ahead of them, they broke into the emergency food container, picking out a hearty dinner of chicken and rice, mixed vegetables, and cornbread, followed by brownies for dessert. Although far from fresh and full of preservatives, they enjoyed the meal, savoring each bite as they shoveled it into their mouths. While they ate, they made small talk, carefully choosing topics for discussion that wouldn’t pry too much into the young girl’s situation. No one wanted to upset her, and they figured she would tell them what happened when she was ready.
For her part, Isabella spoke very little, instead focusing on eating, wolfing down the food like the starved child she was, finishing her plate in less than three minutes. When Serafina saw her looking at what remained on the serving platter, she pushed the dish towards her, motioning for her to take more, which the girl eagerly did.
As soon as Daniel stuffed the last bit of his brownie in his mouth, he pushed his plate away and stood up, tilting his head back while he chugged his glass of water. Setting the glass aside, he looked at the four youngsters. “I need two of you to clean up. Isabella should probably be one, since I’m sure she’s too tired to help with the work outside. You three figure out who will work with her.” With that, he headed back out into the yard, flashlight in hand.
Serafina followed shortly after, accompanied by Ashley and Paul, each of them carrying a flashlight and knife of their own. The two teenagers had been prepared to argue about who should help clean up, but Brenna had readily agreed to take on the task. Being closest in age, she took it upon herself to help the girl settle in.
Paul guided the two women to where he and Daniel had dug the trench, where the older man was already hard at work, pounding foot long pieces of wood into the trench, embedding them into the soil until only half their length was exposed. When the three of them arrived, he explained the plan and asked them to start carving the pieces of wood after he hammered them into the ground. He used a thick piece of burlap to muffle the sound of the hammer striking the wood, and ensured his swinging motions were short and measured to keep the noise level down as he worked down the line.
As they worked, the sun went down, bringing cooler temperatures rapidly. Even in June, the nights and evenings were in the 40s, and soon the four of them were starting to shiver as their sweat covered shirts clung to their bodies. Undeterred, they pushed on, with Daniel finishing the placement of the wood spikes before adding two separate pieces of wood on either end of the trench. With that effort completed, he started at the far end of the trench and began sharpening the pieces of wood he’d planted, moving towards the others as he did.
He was on his fifth piece of wood when he heard his wife’s voice above where he knelt. “How’s it going?”
Looking up, he smiled at her, then looked back at his crudely carved spikes. “Pretty good I think, but probably not as sharp as the ones you’ve done.”
Serafina looked down at the one he was working on, then knelt beside him and touched the tip of it. “Not terrible, but it could be sharper. Also, I’ve started adding barbs on the ones I’ve done.”
“Damn. Wicked.”
“Hey, if we want to hurt intruders, let’s hurt them effectively.”
Daniel nodded. She was right, of course. “Makes sense.”
Serafina smiled at him, then motioned for him to give her some room. “Okay, let me show you what you’re doing wrong.”
“Here we go…”
Over the next hour, the four of them finished the spikes, adding barbs to each one, then carefully strung the razor wire inside the trench. Once completed, Daniel went and got the chicken wire and landscaping staples, which they put over the trench before covering its length with leaves, pine needles, and twigs.
With that complete, Serafina and Ashley headed inside to clean up while Daniel and Paul strung the ‘tripwire’ through the trees, placing it just outside the trench. By the time they finished, they were both exhausted, having worked for the better part of fifteen hours. They dragged themselves back to the cabin, tired, thirsty, and already hungry again.
When they got to the front porch, Daniel motioned for Paul to go inside, then took a seat on the edge of the porch. He sat there, alone in the dark as he listened to the wind blowing through the trees, and he thought about the old Native American man he’d met at Mission Bay, a time that seemed years old but was truly only a week and a half prior to this night. He thought of the man’s advice regarding noise and how silent action could help avoid protection. Though he didn’t see this ending well if it came down to close quarters action against a superior force, he did think that the use of bows and arrows could help them gain the upper hand initially.
After that, it would be up to them to keep the upper hand.
His stomach growled, motivating him to get up from the porch and go inside. As he did so, his knees and lower back protested, reminding him of his age. He sighed to himself as he went inside, thinking, ‘Getting old sucks.’
“Are you comfortable?” Brenna asked her, squeezing herself closer to the wall in an effort to give Isabella as much room as she could. The girl’s older sister, Ashley, had reluctantly given up the lower bunk, which was full sized, understanding that the two girls wouldn’t be able to fit on the single twin mattress that was used on the top bunk.
“I’m okay.” She replied, thankful to be off of the street, inside of a home, sleeping in something other than the clothes she’d worn for the last five days, and actually sleeping under a comforter in a bed. Feeling the warm fabric of the light sweatpants and long-sleeved t-shirt against her freshly washed skin, she felt almost unreasonably happy. “Thank you for letting me stay with you.”
“It’s okay,” the older girl replied. “My parents are nice. They’d never turn you away.”
“I’m glad. I was so cold the last few nights. I spent three nights under a park bench, then last night in one of the classrooms at the middle school, sleeping on a yoga mat. It was better than being outside, but still really cold.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It was.”
Brenna’s older sister called out softly from the upper bunk. “Can you two keep it down? I’m so tired…”
“Okay, sorry,” her sister replied, turning to Isabella as she snuggled her face against her pillow. “Let’s get some rest, okay? We can talk more in the morning.”
“Okay.”
“Good night, Izzie.” The girl said, smiling as she used the nickname Isabella had told her she went by back home.
“Good night.” Isabella turned and faced the wall of the room, her eyes wide as she thought about everything that had transpired over the last several days. It seemed part nightmare, part dream. Mostly nightmare.
Her mother was dead, killed by her father with his bare hands. The same hands that had grabbed her, trying to pull her closer so that he could hurt her the way he had hurt her mother.
Staring at the wall, she absently ran her fingers along the long scars on her arm, feeling the raised skin from where his nails had broken the skin.
CHAPTER SIXTY THREE
Sweat dripped down his face as Sheriff Grayson Halwell looked at the map of the city and surrounding areas. Though the city was small when compared to other towns in Southern California, it was still big enough to make locating Kyle’s attackers challenging. Making it even harder was the fact that cabins dotted the far outskirts of nearly every small neighborhood, even those on the less populated northern side of the lake.
His group of hunters had already focused on the Moonridge area that was east of the drugstore, but the hours spent that morning driving up and down the various roads, both paved and dirt, had produced no leads. Sure, they’d found a number of infected, which they killed quickly and efficiently, as well as a few homes with people hiding in them, people who were now either dead or back at the lodge as new additions to the workforce, but they were no closer to finding the women (and men?) who had hurt the Sheriff’s longtime
friend.
‘But when we do find them....’ Halwell squeezed his right hand into a fist, imagining he was squeezing the throat of one of the perpetrators.
A bead of sweat fell from his nose, landing on the paper with a smack, bringing him back to the here and now. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the men looked hot, tired, and above all, disinterested. Truthfully, most of them didn’t care for Kyle, though none of them dared to say so. Instead, they went along with the Sheriff’s orders, simply going through the motions without really being invested. They were there, doing what he ordered them to, but the bottom line was that they didn’t care, and if they didn’t care, it set a bad precedent.
Pushing himself back from the hood of the SUV where they’d spread out the map, he pulled up his trousers, which had gotten a bit snug with all the booze he’d been drinking and processed junk food they’d been eating in the place of actual nutrition. He looked at the men, moving his eyes from face to face, making sure he had their attention. Harold, Ricky, Clive, Jerry, and a few newcomers stood around him, waiting for him to speak. He worked up a big loogie and spit it on the ground in front of him. Aware that they were watching him, he pulled out his can of tobacco, slowly took a large wad of the dark brown leaves, and stuffed it in between his cheek and gum. He let the tobacco juice absorb into his saliva as he put the can back in his pocket, still looking at the men. Shaking his head, he moved his gaze up, looking above their heads towards the mountain tops.
“It’s a shame.”
He let the words hang there in the hot, thin, mountain air, waiting for someone to ask the question.
In his peripheral vision, he saw Jerry nudge Ricky, who looked back at the man in annoyance before speaking.
“What’s a shame, boss?”
Taking another deep breath, Sheriff Halwell exhaled, then answered. “It’s a shame that people think they can do this and get away with it. That they can attack one of US,” he paused briefly to allow them time to think about the emphasis he’d placed on the word, then went on, “and get away with it.” He continued staring off at the mountains, his eyes tracing over the various ski slopes. “To me, Kyle’s part of our family, and when someone hurts my family...I’ll never stop.
“I’ll never stop looking for them. I’ll never turn the other cheek. I’ll never forgive and forget.” He shook his head, bringing his gaze back down to their level, looking at them, making eye contact.
“He’s family.” Halwell allowed his expression to harden as his voice became more forceful.
“This family,” he brought his arms out wide, as if to encircle them in his embrace, “is all we have. No one else. Just us.” He brought his arms down, hooking his thumbs in his belt. “We let this happen …. people will think we’re weak. Now I know we’re not, but you know as well as I do, that if people believe that, they’ll believe they can do it again, and when we’re not looking … Maybe when Clive’s out, getting us more booze, or when Ricky and Jerry are out escorting the workers on a water run, or maybe when Harold’s out on a fuel run, they’ll hit us again.”
Halwell shook his head, looking down at the map, his eyes not seeing it as he thought of his next words. Words that would stir the right emotion.
Fear.
Push the victim mentality.
“I just wanna be able to relax. To be able to enjoy this little piece of the world that we have available. It’s not much, but it’s ours. Heck, I’d love to go sit by the lake and cast a line out there, maybe have myself a cold one, and just watch the day go by.
He shook his head, frowning.
“Can’t do that. Not if there are people out there who might take that opportunity to put a bullet in my head. I mean, I guess I could ask a couple of you to keep a lookout so I’d be safe …”
He snorted softly, then shrugged. “But I’d rather have you there, with me, drinking those beers, casting your own line out into the lake.
“I’ll bet that lake is full of big, fat, hungry fish right now. Ain’t nobody been fishing since all this started. Sure would be nice.”
Looking back at the men’s faces, Halwell knew he had them, but he wanted them to make the next move. And to do that, he had to put the bait out.
“You know what? Why don’t ya’ll head back to the lodge. You’re hot, probably tired. You already killed a bunch of them infected folks already, you deserve a break.” He took yet another deep breath, setting his jaw as he looked at their faces.
Time to be the hero.
Better yet, the martyr.
“I’ll find them. It’s my job to protect the family.”
Halwell expected them to need a few seconds to respond, but Ricky objected immediately.
“Shit, I ain’t going nowhere, Sheriff. Let’s find these fucks.”
Harold nodded. “I’m with you, boss.”
“Same here.” Jerry added.
One by one, the men committed to staying, to continue the hunt.
‘Perfect,’ Halwell thought, smiling. He gestured back to the hood of the SUV. “Alright, let’s figure out what area to clear next.”
The sound of motorcycles approaching drew their attention away from the map. It was Diesel, his massive frame seeming to dwarf the Harley he rode. He drove past them, then looped around and came back, drawing up alongside where Halwell stood. The others cleared a space so that the two men could see each other clearly.
Diesel spit out a black loogie. “Kyle’s awake.”
Halwell’s grin widened.
“Now we’re getting somewhere.”
CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR
“Lisa, take a seat. Pacing won’t make him get here any faster.”
Doctor Chang watched the tall blonde doctor as she walked back and forth in the ready room, listening to the Control Tower as they communicated with the C-17, the voices coming through the speaker mounted in the left corner of the ceiling, directly above the windows.
Doctor Bowman shook her head, glancing over at Andrew. “Can’t sit down. Too nervous.” She stopped and turned to face him, her eyes filled with concern. “They said there had been casualties. Do you think that means someone on the SEAL Team died?”
Andrew nodded, looking down at the table in front of him. “I believe so, which is scary. Those men were incredibly well trained.”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Sergeant Mason walked into the room, followed by Corporals Richards and Johnson. “SEALS in general are trained harder than anyone else in the military. They’re the elite of the elite. Some will say Force Recon Marines are comparable, but the SEALS are the ones who are called on when the President needs something done quickly, covertly, and effectively.”
Corporal Johnson nodded in agreement. “Bin Laden was taken out by Navy SEALS. Captain Phillips? Rescued by Navy SEALS. As much as I hate to give the Navy props, since I think the Air Force is better, Navy SEALS are badass.”
Chang shrugged, looking at the Air Force trio. “That’s why I said if one of them was killed, that’s pretty damn scary.”
The three of them nodded, looking uncomfortable.
Sighing, Doctor Bowman began pacing again. She longed to chew her nails, an old habit she’d spent years trying to kick, needing some kind of release. ‘If he doesn’t get here soon…’
The speaker overhead crackled before a voice came over. “Globemaster Two One Two, you are cleared for landing.”
‘Thank God,’ Lisa thought, looking out of the window towards the landing area. As she watched, the massive aircraft descended, seemingly fast and slow at the same time as all two hundred and eighty thousand pounds floated downward, lower and lower until the massive wheels contacted the hard surface of the runway with a slightly noticeable upward bounce. It cruised forward down the long strip of concrete, slowing little by little until it finally came to a stop.
Using its thrusters, the aircraft made its way across the tarmac, driving towards the building before swinging to the left and parking directly in front of the structure about a hundred
yards away.
When they received the signal that the tarmac was safe for pedestrians, they stepped through the doors, having already removed their loose items and other things that had the potential to become Foreign Object Damage, or as Sergeant Mason and the others referred to it, FOD.
Lisa and Andrew led the way out onto the tarmac, finding a spot near the passenger loading door to wait for Reed and the others. When the door opened, Lisa felt her heart flutter slightly in her chest as she waited for Jonathan to emerge. Seconds later he did, followed by a German Shepherd on a crudely fashioned leash made of cargo netting material.
She felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she blinked them away rapidly, chiding herself for being so sensitive. ‘Settle down, Lisa, you’ve only known him for a week and a half.’ She smiled at the tall man, looked at the dog curiously, then back at him.
His expression told her something was wrong.
Looking past him she saw the aircrew closing the door to the aircraft.
“Oh no….”
Andrew and the others realized what she had at that same moment. “Oh my God.” Andrew whispered, looking at Doctor Reed and seeing the pain on his face.
“Shit.” Sergeant Mason walked away without warning, leaving the two corporals there with the doctors as he re-entered the building.
When Doctor Reed stopped in front of them, Lisa smiled slightly, waiting for him to speak first, unsure of what to say. He looked at the ground, unable to make eye contact with them. “They’re all dead.”
Lisa’s heart stopped in her chest for a moment as she absorbed the news. Looking at her colleague/maybe-something-more, she softly said, “I’m so sorry, Jon.”
“They died protecting me, making sure I survived to complete the mission.” He slung his backpack off his shoulder and held it in front of him, looking at it with an expression of sorrow. “This had better be worth it.”
Surviving Rage | Book 1 Page 63