by Dirk Patton
Rachel sat in the dark and thought. She understood enough about how viruses worked to believe that what Joe was talking about could potentially destroy all of the infected and return the world to the survivors. Not that there were many of those outside of Russia, but there were some. And the last she’d heard there was no infection in Hawaii or Australia.
That gave her hope that there were even more geographically isolated locations on the globe where the virus hadn’t reached. Destroying it before it could spread any more wouldn’t bring back the billions that had died, but it was at least hope for those still fighting to survive.
Now she just needed John to come back. She didn’t have a watch to check, but knew it had been several hours since he’d gone in. Should she be worried yet? Of course she should. He was in danger the moment he stepped inside, but should she be concerned that he wasn’t going to come out?
Rachel had no doubt that he wasn’t coming out without Katie. However long that took, and whatever he had to do. If she were alive, he’d get her. If she wasn’t, he’d probably die in his efforts to kill every infected in the caverns. Knowing he’d do the same for her should have eased the pain of her broken heart, but it didn’t help.
Dog suddenly raised his head and growled. Rachel and Joe instantly got to their feet and raised their rifles in the direction Dog was facing. There was a low hill in that direction, separating them from the first canyon, but neither of them could see any danger. Rachel had John’s M4 with a night vision scope and she raised it to check the area.
She saw nothing as she slowly scanned the slope of the hill closest to them, then higher to check the horizon. Still nothing. Dog growled again, stepping closer and pressing his body against Rachel’s leg. She glanced over at Joe without lowering the rifle, then turned her head to look at the horses when she saw where his attention was.
All three animals had their heads up, ears pulled stiffly to the front as they faced the same direction as Dog. One of them snorted, then whinnied quietly.
“What the hell?” Joe asked her.
“I think I know,” Rachel said, raising the rifle to look above the horizon at the night sky. She could see a faint rippling that looked like distortion in the scope’s optics, but knew it wasn’t.
“Bats,” she said.
“Bats? Sure, we’ve got bats around here but they don’t bother… oh, shit. The virus?”
“Don’t know, for sure. We saw razorbacks that were infected. Ran across about a million bats in Texas that we suspected were, but nothing definitive.” Rachel said, still watching the sky through the scope.
“John mentioned that. Are they getting any closer?”
“Can’t tell for sure,” Rachel said, placing her hand on Dog’s neck when he growled again.
“Maybe it’s a good sign,” Joe said, a hopeful note in his voice. “Maybe they got disturbed because John is down there in the caves kicking ass.”
“Maybe,” Rachel said after a long moment. “But I’m pretty sure they’re coming this way, and I don’t think it’s a good idea to be out in the open.”
Joe nodded, heading for the horses. “About a mile west of here is an old shack. Nothing but some walls and a roof, but if they are infected it will give us some shelter.”
It took them less than a minute to be ready to go, Rachel swinging onto Horse’s back on her first try. Joe led the way, urging them into a run. Dog ran behind them, but he couldn’t match the speed of the horses’ longer legs.
A breeze had been blowing from out of the southeast all night, but had been steadily picking up until it was a strong wind. As he ran, Dog was bombarded with a thousand different scents, his brain automatically cataloging them. Most were just miscellaneous smells, but some were recognized as food, water, danger and pack.
To his canine mind, pack was family, and when the faint scent he knew as John reached his sensitive nose he slowed. The pack mate in front of him was quickly drawing away, but the scent of the pack leader was definitely to his left.
Coming to a stop, Dog watched Rachel, Joe and the horses continue to race across the prairie for a few moments. She was escaping the menace he could smell on the wind, but the alpha’s scent was in the same direction as a strong odor of danger. Turning directly into the wind, Dog broke into a run, racing across the dark plains like a phantom in the night.
38
Irina kept the throttle wide open, the Bradley roaring along. The heavy rubber treads were throwing up a rooster tail of dirt and grass in their wake, leaving a trail that a blind man could follow. Occasionally she would turn slightly to adjust their heading, keeping the heavy vehicle on the computer generated route, but did so without any lessening of pressure on the accelerator.
Driving with only the periscope to see through was something that took some getting used to. As Scott suspected she had trained on a similar system used by the Russian military, but it had been a lot of years ago. Regardless, she was getting accustomed to the limited field of view, and kept their speed up. Barring driving off a cliff or into a deep river or lake, there wasn’t much that could happen to them inside the armored hull.
Scott kept his eyes on the bats, trusting that Irina didn’t need him to help pick out a path to follow across the terrain. Quickly glancing down at the navigation display he cursed upon seeing that the little flying beasts would be over Rachel’s location before their arrival. He noted that Igor and Irina were having a discussion in Russian, but had gotten used to it and blocked it out.
“Igor says he’s picking up something on thermal. About a mile ahead, thirty degrees right.” Irina said over the intercom.
Scott took his attention off the bats, swiveling his periscope and enabling the thermal imager. Initially all he could see was a blob that was hotter than its surroundings. Zooming, the image resolved into two human forms, standing close together. Switching back to night vision he could see a small, rickety shack.
“At our three o’clock,” Irina said. “Igor says he sees horses running west.”
Scott turned and spotted the animals, streaking across the plains to the southwest. Remembering something from the satellite image he took his attention away from the scope and worked on the display. When the picture of Rachel came up he expanded the field of view, seeing three horses standing a few yards away from her.
“See the small shack, Irina?” He said on the intercom, focusing the periscope’s thermal vision back on it.
“Da,” she said, uncharacteristically speaking to him in her native tongue.
“That’s where they are. Go there.” Scott said.
The Bradley swayed on its suspension as Irina adjusted their direction of travel. Scott took a look at the bats, relieved to see that they seemed to have changed direction. He kept watch on them for a few moments, looking at them with the thermal vision.
The swarm, or flock, or whatever the hell they were called was large, and they appeared to be shifting to a more northerly course. Back to night vision he checked the shack, noting a lone tree bending sharply in the direction the bats were adopting. The wind! It was pushing them onto a new course!
Shifting his view back to the bats he activated the Bradley’s laser targeting system. Almost immediately it started displaying information about their distance, their direction of travel and several other data points that he didn’t understand. What he did learn was that his visual estimation was accurate. They were turning and flying to the northwest, going with the wind.
Irina slowed as they approached the shack, coming to a stop a few yards from the rough, wooden door. She hit a switch and bright headlights came on, illuminating the rickety structure. Looking through his periscope, Scott could see the entire building swaying in the wind. It looked like it could collapse at any moment.
Releasing his seat harness, Scott moved around the tight space into the passenger area. Telling Irina to have Igor keep an eye on things with the turret mounted chain gun, he hit the button to lower the vehicle’s rear ramp. With a whine it
started moving down, the wind immediately finding the opening and blowing dust into his face.
Squinting, he strode down the ramp and moved into the light at the front of the vehicle. From above and behind him he heard a faint whine from the turret motors as Igor aligned the chain gun with the shack’s front door. They were fairly sure Rachel was one of the forms inside that had been seen on thermal imaging, but Scott was happy to have Igor’s itchy trigger finger ready in case it was someone or something else.
“Rachel? It’s Tech Sergeant Scott,” he shouted over the rushing noise of the wind.
A moment later the door opened and Rachel stepped out, a tall Indian hesitantly following her. She shielded her eyes against the glare of the headlights, then Irina shut them off and all of them were momentarily blinded as they waited for their eyes to adjust to the darkness.
“There’s a whole swarm of bats coming,” Rachel said, walking up to Scott and looking over her shoulder at the horizon.
“Saw them, but the wind is pushing them away from us. I was hoping the Major was with you.” Scott said, looking pointedly at Joe.
“There are some caverns a couple of miles from here. He went in to get Katie several hours ago.”
“What’s Katie doing – never mind. Time for that later. Who’s this?” He asked, nodding his head at Joe.
Rachel made a quick introduction and stepped closer to Scott. “Did you see Dog? He was with us when we started riding for the shack, but hasn’t shown up yet.”
Scott shook his head before activating the intercom he was still connected to. “Irina, ask Igor to scan for Dog.”
He heard her relay his request in Russian, then the turret began moving as Igor used the thermal targeting system to survey the area.
“You need to take Joe back to Tinker,” Rachel said. “He’s a virologist and has an idea the Colonel needs to hear.”
“No way he’s a virologist. Really?” Scott blurted.
“Fuck you, white man!” Joe bristled. “You think I can’t have an education because I’m an Indian?”
Scott barked out a laugh. "Relax, dude. I don't give a shit if you're Indian or not. I just can't believe that we find the last guy alive in the middle of nowhere at the end of the world and he happens to be a fucking virologist. What are the chances? It's like something out of a third rate zombie novel."
“Jesus Christ!” Rachel said sharply before Scott could say anything more. “Both of you shut the hell up for a minute!”
Scott stood there grinning, Joe breathing heavy, still not sure if he’d been insulted or not.
“Yes, he’s a virologist, and he’s a hell of a lot smarter than you or me. So, you need to get him to the Colonel.” She said to Scott, glaring at him before turning her gaze on Joe. “And you. That virus doesn’t give a shit if you’re white or red. Park the fucking over-sensitive bullshit and see what you can do about saving those of us that are left.”
“You gotta admit, dude. The ponytail and rifle in your hand don’t exactly fit the image anyone is going to have when you tell them you’re a scientist. Maybe gain some weight, lose your hair and get a pair of glasses.” Scott still had a shit-eating grin on his face.
Joe finally relaxed a little, nodding his acceptance of Scott’s comment.
“OK, can we all play nicely?” Rachel looked back and forth between them with her hands on her hips.
“Yes, ma’am,” Scott said, a moment later Joe echoing him.
“Good. Now, did I hear you say Irina and Igor are in that tank? Can they see Dog?” Rachel asked.
Scott waved them to follow, walking to the ramp. He led the way inside, hitting the button to raise the ramp and cut off the dust storm that was blowing in the opening once the three of them were inside. Igor looked down from the gunner’s seat, smiled and nodded at Rachel.
“No sign of Dog,” Irina said, working her way back to where they stood hunched over. “There are some infected moving around half a mile to the north, but Igor doesn’t see any sign of him.”
“OK, where did the horses go?” Rachel asked. “I’m going to go look for Dog and wait for John. You need to get Joe back to Tinker.”
“That may be a problem,” Scott said. “There are herds closing in. We got out ahead of them to come find you and the Major. The base is being evacuated. Going to be something like thirty million infected arriving any time now, then a whole hell of a lot more in another day or two.”
Rachel was stunned. Thirty million? She couldn’t even grasp a herd of infected that large.
“But what was the plan? How were you going to get back when you found us?”
“Martinez. Figured we could find a plane or something and she’d fly us in. We’ve still got time to make the last flight out.” Scott said.
“She didn’t make it,” Rachel said softly.
“What?” Scott was stunned. “What do you mean she didn’t make it?”
“Roach shot her when we were getting away from the casino. After the crash we were taken by a group of infected, but she must have been dying. They left her behind in a river. Her body was floating downstream the last I saw of her.” Rachel reached out and touched Scott’s arm. “I’m sorry.”
Scott stood mute, staring at her. He couldn’t believe Martinez was gone. She’d always seemed like one of those people that nothing could stop. And what the hell were the infected doing? Taking prisoners?
“Scott!” Rachel said, snapping him out of his reverie. “Can you still get back onto Tinker? Can you get Joe to the Colonel?”
“Hold on,” Scott said, moving to the vehicle commander’s chair.
It took a couple of minutes for him to establish a link with the FSOC system, then several more to reach Captain Blanchard. He filled him in on their status and asked about the situation at the base. They talked for a short time then he held a headset out to Rachel.
“The Colonel wants to speak with you,” he said.
“Hello?” Rachel said, adjusting the microphone in front of her mouth.
“Ms. Miles. Good to hear your voice.” She recognized Crawford’s baritone. “Tell me what your idea is.”
Rachel started speaking, relaying her discussion with Joe to the Colonel. As she talked she saw amazement and hope flicker across both Scott and Irina’s faces. Crawford listened without interrupting. When she was finished he asked a few questions, then she could hear him turn to someone, Captain Blanchard she assumed, and tell him to start looking for a scientist named Rick Kanger.
“Tech Sergeant, are you still on?” Crawford asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“That virologist you have with you is now to be considered a high value asset. Do not let him out of your sight.”
“Yes, sir.” Scott acknowledged, looking around at Joe who glared back at him.
“Very good. Here’s Captain Blanchard. He’ll coordinate getting you back to Tinker.”
39
Dr. Rick Kanger stood in the base commander’s office at Tinker Air Force Base, listening to an abbreviated version of the conversation between Colonel Crawford and Rachel. The Colonel spoke quickly, referring to notes as he talked. He was grateful that, unlike so many science professionals, the man standing in front of him didn’t feel the need to constantly correct his layman’s terminology.
“The question, Doctor, is can it be done?” Crawford asked when he ran out of notes.
“Of course it can,” Kanger smiled. “With the right people, the right facility, equipment and enough time and test subjects.”
“That’s not what I wanted to hear,” the Colonel grumbled, frowning.
“You have to understand, this isn’t like baking a cake. This is creating a new virus designed to target a specific DNA signature and ignore everything else. At the same time we would have to build in… well, let me put it this way. Viruses mutate. All the time. Creating a virus to kill the infected and preventing it from becoming just another plague that would wipe out the remnants of the human race, well…” he held his h
ands out to the side and shrugged his shoulders.
“Can you do it?” Crawford asked, irritation showing.
“Yes, I can.” Kanger answered after a long pause. “But it won’t be quick. And I’ll need a proper facility and qualified help. You said Joe Revard is on his way?”
“He is, as well as a young woman who is a third or fourth year medical student.” Blanchard answered.
Kanger frowned, but didn’t complain. He was too practical to expect the Army to have a team of experienced viral researchers available after all that had happened.
“What about a facility? Can you get me back to the University?” He asked, then nodded in thought when Blanchard told him the lab building in downtown Oklahoma City had burned.
“OK then,” he said, rubbing his stubbly chin. “Other than here, there’s the CDC, USAMRIID, BioGenesis in Chicago and the Allen Institute in Seattle. Any of those still standing?”
“CDC and USAMRIID are gone,” Crawford said. “Captain?”
Blanchard sat down in front of his laptop and began working. It took him several minutes during which time Kanger grew uncomfortable under Colonel Crawford’s gaze.
“Where in each city, Doctor?” Blanchard finally asked.
Kanger rattled off location information. He didn’t have precise street addresses for either facility, but he knew enough to help Blanchard zoom in on the general area. Several clicks and minutes later he turned back to face the room.
“The whole area in Chicago has burned. Nothing but rubble. The facility in Seattle is on a lakeshore and looks to be intact. Of course I have no way of knowing what the conditions are inside, but at least the building is intact and looks to be secure.” He said.
“What about infected in the city?” Crawford asked.
“There’s some, but at least the general area appears clear, sir.” Blanchard answered, leaning forward to peer closer at the display. “Large herds heading east, crossing mountains, The Cascades I believe, but there’s still infected in the city.”