Spore Series | Book 2 | Choke

by Soward, Kenny

  “It’s a kill box!” Bryant yelled. “Fiona, keep your head down! Jessie get moving. Go, go, go!” Then he opened up with the mounted machine gun, sending tracer fire spitting above her head like something out of a science fiction movie.

  She slammed her foot on the gas pedal, and the big diesel engine shot them forward and down the ramp.

  “Which way?”

  “Straight!” Bryant yelled. “Take the re-entry ramp and get back on the highway! Don’t stop!”

  His machine gun lit up the grass to the right before it swung back to the left again. Someone lifted out of the grass and fired a burst of rounds at them before Bryant cut them down. By the time they reached the bottom of the ramp, the shooting had stopped, though Jessie kept her foot pressed on the pedal and shot them across the road right at the two trucks blocking them.

  The machine gun turret flared to life. Sparks lit up the trucks and sent the half-dozen people scattering to the sides of the road.

  Jessie angled them toward the seam between the two vehicles and then ducked as the Humvee slammed through in a terrific jolt and an incredible crunch of sound. Pieces of truck flew everywhere, and the wheel ripped free of her hands as the Humvee jerked right. She threw her weight forward and gripped the wheel, turning it back in the other direction.

  The Humvee righted itself and flew onto the entry ramp with an engine roar, pinning her back against the seat. A moment later, Bryant lowered himself down into the passenger side with a wince.

  Jessie glanced behind her, shouting, “Fiona, baby. Are you okay!” The little girl’s eyes were wide, and her visor was skewed sideways on her head. “Bryant, can you check her, please?”

  “I think I got two or three of them,” he said, turning in his seat and reaching back to Fiona.

  “Who were they?” Jessie was gasping for breath as she pulled onto the expressway, and she tried to relax her hands and allow her heart to slow down.

  “No clue,” Bryant said. “But they weren’t military. At least not all of them. Probably survivors trying to gather resources. Vehicles. Supplies. People.”

  “I can’t believe they thought it was a good idea to attack a military vehicle,” Jessie said with a chuckle of disbelief. “It’s only been a week since the outbreak. How are they organizing so fast?”

  Bryant settled back into his seat and faced forward again. “Anyone who survived this far won’t have a lot to do but survive. Get someone with some organizational skills, and they’ll form up groups to defend themselves and take advantage of others. They’ll know that the faster they can establish themselves, the better. Any vehicle, especially a military vehicle, would fit right into their plans.”

  “It’s bad enough we have to fight Asphyxia,” Jessie said in a disappointed tone. “We have to fight a bunch of yahoos, too.”

  “And it won’t get any easier,” Bryant said. “It won’t get any easier at all.”

  Chapter 16

  Jessie Talby, Zanesville, Ohio

  Five miles from where Jessie had broken through the roadblock, the Humvee began shaking so hard her teeth clacked together. Something was grinding in the frame below her feet, and the military vehicle shuddered like it might come apart.

  “Did the tire blow?” Jessie shouted above the horrible noise.

  “I don’t think so,” Bryant said, wincing as his already wounded body jolted around. “I think we busted an axle. Stop.”

  Jessie pressed the brake to bring the Humvee to a stop in the middle of the road. Bryant got out and limped around to her side of the vehicle. She threw open her door and met him there.

  She didn’t know a lot about cars, though she could change a tire if she had to. “Yep, the tire looks fine.”

  Bryant got down on his hands and left knee, keeping his right leg extended behind him as he leaned forward to check the extent of the damage. His eyes scanned the undercarriage before he held out his hand to get Jessie’s help. She helped the soldier to his feet, and he hobbled one step ahead and rested his hands against the Humvee’s hood.

  “Yeah, we’re screwed.” He shook his head. “We need a mechanic to fix it. And considering all the service stations are permanently closed, that’s not going to happen.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jessie frowned and looked back down the road.

  “Don’t apologize,” he scowled. “You got us out of there. We hit some terrible luck. Normally, these vehicles can take a lot more punishment than that.”

  “We need to get out of here,” Jessie said, staring down the road.

  “We can rest here for a minute until—”

  “No, we need to get out of here,” she repeated, voice frantic as panic-fueled adrenaline rushed through her bloodstream. She pointed down the crash-strewn expressway at two vehicles weaving their way through the wreckage toward them.

  Bryant followed where she was pointing, and his eyes went wide.

  “Grab Fiona,” he said as he moved around to the back of the vehicle. “I’ll grab our packs.”

  “Are we in trouble?” Fiona asked, hopping down out of the Humvee.

  “Maybe.” Jessie led the little girl to the side of the road and helped her over the guardrail and into the tall grass. She glanced down the road to note the two vehicles were less than a mile away. “Probably a little.”

  She turned to help Bryant over the guardrail. The soldier had shouldered his big backpack and held Jessie’s by its straps.

  “I hate to give up that turret gun,” he growled as he lifted one leg over the rail and then the other, half leaning on Jessie the whole time. “But I don’t have enough rounds to hold anyone off for a sustained period, anyway. We’d be sitting ducks.”

  “No, I agree,” Jessie said. “I’ll take my pack.”

  She accepted her backpack and all her analytical gear and took Fiona by the hand, leading her off into the woods on the side of the expressway. Bryant was still limping, but it was less noticeable as he plunged ahead into the brush. Once they were twenty yards in, he stopped to check his rifle’s magazine and made sure he had spares available. He handed his pistol to Jessie.

  “I’ve still got the pilot’s gun,” she said, and she reached into her backpack. At first, she couldn’t find it because the heavy piece had filtered down to the bottom, but then her hand wrapped around the cold, hard steel. She lifted it out and showed Bryant.

  He gave her a grim nod. “You know how to use that thing?”

  “Not really.”

  He pointed at a tiny switch near the gun’s grip. “That’s the safety. It’s on right now. Before you get ready to shoot, flip it off.”

  “And then what?”

  “Point it at someone who means to do you harm and gently squeeze the trigger.”

  “Got it.”

  “I mean that,” Bryant said pointedly. “If you panic and jerk the trigger, you’ll miss whatever you’re shooting at. Pretend like you’re giving your enemy a hug. Gently squeeze.”

  “Got it.” Jessie stared at the weapon and gulped. She couldn’t imagine shooting at someone, though she might be forced to.

  The two pursuing vehicles pulled up to the Humvee in a rush of engine noise and a squeal of brakes. Several people got out and shouted at one another as they descended on the military vehicle.

  “We need to go,” Bryant said, “You two, first.”

  Nodding, she shouldered her backpack. With her gun raised, she took Fiona by the hand and led her through the thick underbrush.

  “Don’t stop for anything,” he urged. “Especially if you hear gunfire. Just keep going.”

  “What am I looking for?”

  “A farmhouse. A vehicle. Both.”

  “Got it,” Jessie said. She coughed as the Asphyxia in her lungs itched and tickled deep inside her chest.

  An hour and a half later, Jessie plowed through the endless woods by sheer determination alone. Sweat poured down her face, and her respirator churned to keep the air in her suit cool. Her arms, legs, and back felt like someone had taken
a baseball bat to her. Her lungs burned, and her ragged, wretched coughing had spattered the inside of her visor with bloody mucus.

  It was too dark to see, but she couldn’t stop. Shouts played on the edge of her hearing, and flashlight beams whipped back and forth through the trees. Bryant drove her like a dog, urging her to keep pushing, keep shoving her way through sticker bushes and honeysuckle. While the Asphyxia fungus covered much of the foliage, much of it seemed withered and dying on the forest floor.

  Perhaps they’d waited it out successfully. Maybe they’d won. That was Jessie’s only consolation as she died a little more with every step.

  “Are you okay?” Fiona asked from behind her.

  She nodded but kept herself facing forward. She didn’t want the little girl to see she’d coughed up half her lungs. It seemed the forest would go on forever, just an endless flat, Ohio woods that stretched on to infinity.

  Jessie stepped into an open field and stared up at a half moon shedding its light like a godsend.

  “It’s a—” Jessie started to say, then she bent over as a coughing fit took hold. A moment later, Bryant stood at her side, his hand resting on her back.

  “Jessie?”

  Without raising up, she lifted her gun and pointed it across the field at the old barn standing in the middle of a circular gravel drive.

  “Okay, we’ll hole up there,” the soldier said in a tired tone. “Because I don’t think either of us is walking any more tonight.”

  Jessie nodded and forced herself to straighten despite her back screaming and her legs aching. It was like the worst flu she’d ever had, and there were no signs of it slowing down.

  Trudging on, she focused on staying upright. The field was unplanted, uneven ground that twisted her ankles as she walked. Her lungs screamed to cough, but she held it in. One more fit would put her to the ground, and she wasn’t sure Bryant could carry her. The man limped a little ahead of them, dragging his right leg behind him through the dirt. She didn’t know how he remained on his feet with his full pack on his shoulders.

  They crossed the gravel driveway and approached the rear of the barn. The barn doors hung open, though it was too dark to make out what lay inside. Bryant held up his hand for them to wait as he had a quick look. Jessie lifted her eyes to scan the old dry wood with flaked red paint. Farm implements hung from the walls, and the sky above showed signs of gray, early morning light.

  “Okay, come on—”

  The wall to Jessie’s left exploded in a spray of wood chips as a bullet struck. Another one hit, spraying more wood and causing Fiona to cry out as Jessie jerked away.

  She stared at the chipped wood with a dazed expression, swaying from side to side as her brain tried to register what was happening. Bryant’s hand came out of the darkness, and he grabbed her by the front of her suit and pulled her inside. He answered whoever was firing at them with several bursts of his rifle.

  Someone cried out in pain, and the incoming fire stopped.

  Bryant came back inside the barn, eyes darting around as he searched for a hiding place. Jessie saw an old tractor and a few bales of hay, though none of it registered in her brain. She felt wasted and weak. It was the Asphyxia. It must be growing strong inside her.

  “Up there,” he said, pointing to a ladder that led up to the barn’s loft. The soldier boosted Fiona up and then turned to press his visor close to Jessie’s. “Your turn.”

  When she didn’t respond right away, he screamed into her face. “Don’t make me carry you up there, soldier!”

  Jessie nodded and focused on the ladder. She walked over and reached for a wooden rung before realizing she still had her gun in her hand. She blinked at it several times until Bryant took it away and shoved her. “Go, Jessie. Come on!”

  She grabbed the wooden rung and started up, surprised she had the strength. Her lungs hurt. Her head hurt. A thousand insects crawled on her skin inside her suit. Before she knew it, she reached the top. Fiona’s tiny hands grabbed her and pulled her onto a big, soft pile of hay where she collapsed with a sigh.

  Bryant came up the ladder and sat down hard next to her.

  She heard the soldier panting through her earpiece, and she drifted off as the steady cadence of his breathing along with the quiet hum of her respirator coaxed her into sleep.

  Minutes later, Jessie came awake, and she looked up to see Fiona kneeling in the hay next to her, her eyes looking around in fright. Rolling in the opposite direction, she got to her knees and threw off her backpack. She searched around inside for a rag, clicked the tabs on her hood to remove her visor, and started wiping the bloody mucus out. The stifling spring heat invaded her suit, and she fought off another urge to cough. Once clean, she re-attached her visor to her hood.

  Looking around, Jessie saw the loft was free of Asphyxia. She crawled backwards until her back was against the barn wall, and she motioned for Fiona to come over. The little girl crawled to her and threw her arms around Jessie’s neck.

  Bryant crawled to the edge of the loft and peered over, keeping watch.

  “I’m not sure why they keep after us,” the soldier sighed. “I mean, I’ve killed three or four of them already. How many more want to die?”

  “Maybe that’s why they’re doing it,” Jessie said raggedly. “Revenge.”

  “That’s dumb,” he growled. “But I guess they’ll have to find out the hard way.”

  Jessie nodded but couldn’t find the strength for words. She was happy to close her eyes for a moment.

  Something vibrated in her backpack. At first she thought it was her imagination. Was Asphyxia making her crazy? She’d heard fungal infections caused confusion and hallucinations once it crossed the blood-brain barrier, although that should take more than a few days.

  Then she remembered she’d put their Humvee’s satellite phone inside it. Jessie pushed Fiona off, reached for her backpack, and dragged it closer. She fished around for the satellite phone and pulled it out, excited to feel it vibrating in her hand.

  Holding it up in front of her face, she stared at the name on the screen. Kim Shields.

  She accepted the call and put the phone to her hood. “Hello,” she said. “Is this Kim?”

  The reply was too muffled to make out, and Jessie shook her head when she realized why. “Duh.” She placed the phone in her lap and popped off her hood’s visor. Retrieving the phone, she put it to her ear. A woman’s voice chimed through on the other end.

  “Jessie Talby. Is that you, Jessie? This is Field Agent Kim Shields from the CDC. I spoke to your Lieutenant Richards some time ago. You’ve been calling?”

  “Yes, it’s me,” she replied, allowing a light cough to slip out. “Yes, we’ve been calling. We followed you out of Washington. We’re somewhere in…” Jessie’s brow narrowed as she tried to focus. “Ohio, I think.”

  “Do you have Fiona with you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jessie replied with a fond glance at the little girl. “Fiona is right here with us.”

  “I assume Lieutenant Colonel Bryant is with you as well?”

  “Yes, we’re all here. All alive. But…” Jessie allowed another light cough to slip out. The itching in her chest wanted more, though she swallowed the urge.

  “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Kim said, her voice filled with relief. “And that you have Fiona. I’d lost hope, honestly. I—”

  “We’re being pursued, Mrs. Shields. We’re trapped in a barn.”

  “Trapped by who?”

  “People with guns. People who want to hurt us.”

  Kim’s voice hardened with determination. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your location now. I will come get you. Hold tight, okay? Just hang in there.”

  “Okay, Mrs. Shields.” Jessie’s throat ground like sandpaper. “Please hurry.”

  “I’m on my way,” Kim said, and the phone went dead.

  She looked toward her feet to see Bryant staring back at her from the edge of the loft. He wore a hopeful yet serious expression.
>
  “No worries,” Jessie chuckled with a rawness in her throat. “The cavalry is coming.”

  Chapter 17

  Moe Tsosie, Chinle, Arizona

  Moe didn’t consider himself a town leader, though his connection to the military forces stationed in Chinle seemed vital to the well-being of their tentative arrangement. The town elders were helpless in the face of such a powerful force, but Moe could be a bridge of trust.

  He stood in front of the Speedway across from the scrubland where the military had constructed a small town overnight. There were medical tents, prefabricated houses, a dozen heavy generators, troop quarters, and a command center comprised of one large prefab unit and several smaller trailers.

  The elders had offered Colonel Humphreys the opportunity to make his headquarters in the elementary school, though the colonel had refused, stating he wanted to be closer to his forces.

  Moe sipped on his fountain Coke and gestured for the Chinle athletic director, Rex Yazzie, to follow him away from the store. They’d set up two lawn chairs and a ten-by-ten canopy on the corner and were watching the proceedings with keen interest.

  “It looks like they’re ready for about anything,” Rex said as they stood next to their lawn chairs. “I can’t say the elders are even mad about it.”

  “They’re not mad at the moment,” Moe said, “but just let one soldier cause trouble in town and you’ll have an uproar. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Rex chuckled, giving Moe a good-natured slap on the shoulder.

  “I’ve been a troublemaker a time or two,” Moe confided with a grin.

  Rex shaded his brow with his hand and peered down Highway 191. Something must’ve caught his attention, so he stood next to the athletic director and followed his gaze. He spotted several vehicles coming toward them in the distance, wavering in the heat waves rising off the hot desert floor.