Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12

by Dirk Patton

  But we needed other things, too. If we didn’t change vehicles, it wasn’t that big of a deal. However, the state of our ammo supply hadn’t improved. We really had to find an armory. I knew there was a Cabela’s in the other direction, near the burned out stadium, but I had little doubt it had been stripped bare in the days after the attacks.

  “Want me to lower them?” Tiffany asked, shoving Dog aside so she could push her head forward, between the seats.

  There really was no other decision. In addition to ammo, we needed supplies. Rachel had brought a well-stocked medical kit from Groom Lake, fully expecting the man to be in rough shape. It had been lost in one of the Humvees when the dam failed. Sure, we could probably find a civilian hospital, but they hadn’t been protected the way one on a military base would have been. There was too great a chance they would have been stripped clean.

  “Yes,” I said with a sigh. “Sit tight for a second. Let me and Dog check the area.”

  I took a long look around, seeing nothing that even resembled a threat. Gripping my rifle, I stepped out onto the asphalt, Dog jumping down right behind me. He lifted his nose and sampled the gentle breeze, but didn’t react to anything he may have smelled. Walking forward, I cautiously checked the gatehouse, finding it empty. Another slow circle and I was confident we weren’t in imminent danger.

  Waving the girls forward, I stepped over to a large metal plate set into the concrete. The three of us quickly had it open. Tiffany jumped in without hesitating, and within a very few seconds, the bollards began retracting.

  I reached in and grabbed her hand, lifting her back to ground level. We had to drive across the opening to the maintenance pit, so I muscled the hinged cover up and let it drop into place with a loud clang.

  “What about that?” Rachel pointed at the red and white striped gate arm.

  I walked over and tested it. It was some sort of metal, probably aluminum. Not secure, by any stretch, but I didn’t want to crash it with the Tahoe and risk damaging our vehicle. There was no guarantee that we’d find a replacement on the base.

  Tiffany had followed me over and wasted no time in attacking the bolts that held the arm to the motorized swivel that would raise it. I supported its weight as she removed the final two bolts, then turned and tossed it to the side, instantly regretting my action.

  Between closing the access plate, and now dropping a metal pole onto the concrete, I was making enough noise to alert every infected even remotely close to our location. Irritated with myself for getting sloppy, I herded everyone back to the Tahoe.

  I drove through the opening and down a long access road that paralleled part of the runway system. Another fence protected the very long stretches of tarmac, and in the distance I could make out the forms of dozens of aircraft parked beneath sunshades.

  Luke was a training base, and there was everything from F-16s to F-35s, and even a small group of Ospreys. One of the latter would have been perfect if I only knew how to fly. Fast as a plane, but with the ability to hover like a helicopter. I couldn’t think of a better platform to use in our search for the pilot. Those thoughts made me think about Martinez, and I forced myself to focus on something else before I started remembering all the people I’d cared about, and lost.

  Pausing at an intersection long enough to read the signs, I turned for the base hospital. Driving across the sprawling air base was surreal. Other than the complete absence of any life, it was untouched. No buildings were burned out or fences torn down. There were no wrecked vehicles, left abandoned for all eternity. No bodies on the ground or even a hint of violence. Nothing.

  The only things out of place were the pieces of trash that had collected along the base of chain link fences. You’d never see that on a functioning military base. If you did, you could be assured there was a General about to be relieved of his or her command.

  Passing the gate for the flight line, I pulled to a stop for a longer look. It was closed and locked. I briefly surveyed the parked aircraft on the far side of the runway, then turned to look at the motor pool on the opposite side of the road.

  “Why aren’t there any vehicles here?” Rachel asked. “Everywhere else we’ve been, there’s always been plenty left behind.”

  Tiffany’s interest was piqued, and she squeezed past Dog to push her head into the front so she could listen to our conversation.

  “There was no release of nerve gas in this area,” I said. “And if your theory about the heat is right, the virus may not have been able to survive here long enough to take hold. This is one of the few places in the country that’s hotter than Vegas in the summer.

  “It’s starting to make a little more sense. Those FEMA trailers at the stadium? The locals weren’t fighting infected. They were just trying to survive the summer and each other. And with there not being a single vehicle on the base, I’m guessing there was an evacuation.”

  “Then why did they leave all the planes behind?” Tiffany asked, pointing across the runway.

  I took another look, mentally cataloging the aircraft sitting in the shaded parking spots. Looking further on, I saw several massive hangars with their doors standing wide open. They were all empty, and there were two large areas of tarmac close to them that were also empty.

  “There’s only combat aircraft remaining,” I said, re-scanning the flight line. “No cargo or transport planes left. Anything that could carry supplies or passengers is gone.”

  “Does that make sense to you?” Rachel asked.

  I shook my head, trying to figure things out. I may tell jokes about the Air Force, but then that was part of the oath I swore when I enlisted in the Army. But it didn’t make sense for an obviously functional Air Force Base to just pack up and leave. Unless there were some pretty strange circumstances that I didn’t know about. Something that had caused them to run.

  “Could they have gone to Hawaii?” Rachel asked.

  “And leave all those fighters behind?” I asked, though it was a rhetorical question.

  “Could they make it that far?” Tiffany asked.

  “Easily. As long as they were able to refuel in flight, and I’ve got no doubt there were several tankers at this base.”

  We sat there thinking about the mystery for another minute. Rachel started to pose another question, but I cut her off. It was time for us to start moving. We still needed to find the hospital, but after seeing how there was seemingly an orderly evacuation, I was concerned it would have been completely stripped of medical supplies.

  I drove forward to an intersection and followed the sign to the base hospital. It wasn’t terribly large, but then it only had to serve the few thousand military, and their dependents, that were assigned to the base. Besides, being on the edge of a major metropolitan area meant there was plenty of advanced healthcare right outside the gates.

  There were no vehicles in the parking lot, and I wheeled into the space closest to the entrance. A large sign warned that it was reserved for Lt. Colonel Adams, who had probably been in command of all of the medical staff and facilities on the base.

  “Tiffany, swap rifles with me again. Remember to keep your finger off the trigger unless you have a target and are ready to shoot. And don’t shoot unless there’s no other option. Understood?”

  “I got it,” she said, sounding slightly miffed at my instructions.

  We spent thirty seconds trading weapons, and I was glad to note that as I began checking mine for readiness, she copied me. She might still sound like a teenaged girl from time to time, but she definitely had her head on straight. But then, that’s probably why she was still alive.

  “Dog and I lead. You two have rear security. Once we’re inside and find the supplies, Dog and I will provide security while you collect what you need. No talking unless there’s a threat, and no noise that can be avoided. Questions?”

  Neither of them had any, so we stepped out into the parking lot. I turned a circle, looking for any danger, but other than the sound of a gentle breeze, it was
eerily silent. Dog’s nose was up, but he remained quiet.

  I began leading the way to the pair of glass doors at the entrance but pulled to a stop with a raised fist. I hadn’t seen or heard anything, but something was bothering me. The little hairs on my arms were standing up. It felt like I was being watched.

  Pulling the rifle scope to my eye, I turned slowly, giving our surroundings another look. Nothing. Raising the weapon, I scanned every rooftop that overlooked the area. Still nothing. Taking a deep breath, I glanced down at Dog. He was on full alert but showed no signs of having detected anything of concern. Letting the breath out, I got us moving again, unable to shake the feeling.

  “We need to do this fast,” I said in a mumble when we paused at the doors.

  “What’s wrong?” Rachel mouthed silently.

  “Just a feeling. Let’s go.”

  I pulled on the door, mildly surprised to find it locked. Pressing my face against the glass, I peered into the dark interior, looking for infected. Not seeing any, I stepped back and fired a short burst through the door. Battering the damaged glass out of the way, I took another look, then reached through and released the lock.

  Opening the door, I kept my rifle aimed at the interior as Dog stepped forward to check the air. Again, he remained quiet and, seeing nothing moving, I led the way into the building.

  33

  We found the ER with no difficulty. I wished I’d had the conversation with Rachel before we came inside. If I’d known the Emergency Room was our destination, I would have parked in the ambulance bay. Oh well, my own fault for not asking.

  One thing about the military, they aren’t shy about posting very visible signage that will easily direct someone to a specific location within a building. As long as it’s not a security concern. And a hospital certainly doesn’t qualify, so it was simply a matter of following the proverbial yellow brick road.

  The hallways were empty and clean. There was no smell of death, rather a mustiness with a sharp, underlying tang of disinfectant. We moved quietly, Dog’s nails making more noise on the hard floor than the soles of our boots. Well-worn running shoes in Tiffany’s case. I needed to find her a pair of boots, but that wasn’t a priority.

  Reaching the ER, we cautiously cleared the space. Gurneys were neatly draped with sheets and pushed against the wall. Treatment areas were clean and orderly. Whatever had prompted the Air Force personnel to depart, they’d most certainly had plenty of time to prepare. It was almost like they were expecting to come back.

  When I was satisfied there weren’t any lurking infected or survivors that would jump out and try to harm us, I motioned for Rachel to start gathering what she needed. Tugging on Tiffany’s arm, she had the girl follow her into a cramped space behind the nurses’ station. I made another scan of the area, then glanced at them.

  Rachel met my eyes and nodded as she began grabbing supplies out of a tall cabinet. Tiffany held open a large, plastic waste bag and Rachel deposited the items into it. They worked for several minutes, then moved to where Dog and I were standing, keeping watch. Each of them held a heavy plastic bag, bulging with medical supplies.

  “Find everything you need?” I mumbled without taking my eyes off a long hallway.

  “We’re good,” Rachel said, adjusting her burden on her shoulder.

  Turning, I retraced our steps through the hospital. It only took a short time to reach the entrance doors, and I brought us to a stop when I saw a flicker of movement. It had come from behind a row of low-growing bushes that bordered the parking lot, neatly separating it from a broad area of desert-scaped ground that fronted the entrance.

  I was well back from the doors, standing in shadow, and was comfortable that anyone outside in the bright sunlight wouldn’t be able to see me. A quick glance over my shoulder confirmed that Rachel and Tiffany had frozen in place. Dog was directly beside me, but I didn’t think he’d spotted whatever had caught my eye. Staying as still as a statue, I kept watching. Waiting.

  Sure, it could have been a bird. Or a rabbit. Or even a dog. But I didn’t think so. Other than hearing the coyotes, and the small family of burrowing rodents that Dog had enjoyed hunting at Groom Lake, I hadn’t seen any indication there was any wildlife remaining. I didn’t dwell on this as the implications were almost too horrifying to contemplate.

  After nearly five minutes, I saw it again. This time, I happened to be looking in exactly the right spot and recognized what I’d seen as a man’s arm. He’d been scratching an itch on the back of his neck. An inch at a time, I slipped sideways to gain a better viewing angle. Now I could see the son of a bitch.

  He was prone on the sandy soil of the landscaping, almost completely concealed behind the spreading branches of an ocotillo cactus. What appeared to be a civilian deer rifle rested on the ground, the muzzle thrust into the hedge and aimed at the entrance doors.

  We were very lucky this wasn’t a trained sniper who had the discipline to remain perfectly still. Only a flash of movement had alerted me to his presence. He was dressed in desert tan camouflage clothing, and with the screen from the cactus, was basically invisible. Unless he gave his position away. Fortunately for us, he had. If we’d come strolling out the front doors, he would have been completely hidden from view and could have put bullets through us before I even knew he was there.

  I spent several more minutes searching the area with my eyes. My head didn’t move as I looked for more people waiting in ambush. Eventually, I gave up. Either there weren’t anymore, or they were in locations that I couldn’t see. Slowly, I retreated deeper into the hospital, waving Dog ahead of me.

  Rachel and Tiffany had taken up positions in two doorways, watching our backs with their rifles up and ready. I stopped next to Rachel and told her what was going on.

  “Just one?”

  “That’s all I can see, but I can’t imagine he’s alone. Can’t get a good view of the surroundings, and can only see a corner of the Tahoe. There could be thirty more of them out there for all I know.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “Back to the ER and find a good hiding place for you two and Dog. I’m going out through the ambulance bay and see what I can do.”

  By now, Rachel had learned there was no point in protesting or arguing when I told her I was going to do something. She liked to tease me, calling me Rambo in situations like this. It had irritated the hell out of me at first, but I’d come to realize it was just how she dealt with the stress of not knowing if I’d return.

  We went back to the ER, and the girls settled into the small alcove behind the nurses’ station. I told Dog to stay with them, and he obeyed, but still gave me a look that said I was foolish not to take him along. I ruffled his ears, reminded Rachel to stay absolutely quiet, and headed for the ambulance bay.

  The doors were two large panels of sliding glass that would open wide enough to admit a gurney with medics walking on either side. I approached cautiously, staying to the deeper shadows. Several minutes of careful observation didn’t reveal anyone lying in wait, so I stepped forward and carefully pried them apart.

  When the opening was wide enough for me to slip through, I moved fast. The ambulance bay was a broad concrete apron with a high ceilinged overhang to protect it from the weather. It was the last place I wanted to be dragging my feet as there was absolutely nothing to conceal me from an enemy.

  Dashing across the area, I threw myself to the ground behind a thick clump of dwarf date palms. Waited for a bullet to come my way, or a shout of surprise at my sudden appearance. But neither happened.

  Controlling my breathing, I crouched behind the rough trunks of the trees and listened as hard as I could. I couldn’t hear anything over the scraping of palm fronds that were being rubbed together by the breeze. That didn’t make me feel any better.

  The front corner of the building was thirty yards to my right, and the hedge the sniper was using for concealment followed the pavement right to where I was hiding. I had no idea what kind of plan
t had been used to create the border, but it was close to three feet high. Jagged shaped, waxy green leaves grew densely, and even from several feet away I could see the branches were lined with small thorns. Pushing through it would be impossible without using a sharp blade and making a lot of noise.

  But, I didn’t want to push through. I wanted to use it for cover to reach the man waiting to ambush us. So far, I hadn’t seen or heard any sign to tell me he wasn’t alone. However, I was counting on him having some friends along. Well, the first step was to spot everyone. Then I could decide on the best way to handle them.

  Once I had taken another careful listen, trying to pay close attention between the scrapes of the fronds, I began crawling on my knees and elbows. After about the third rock that jabbed into me, I was becoming nostalgic for the days when I would have had pads on my joints to protect them. But, I didn’t have any, so I sucked it up and kept going until I reached the concealment of the hedge.

  Another pause to listen. Nothing. Moving slower, I worked my way to the corner, stopping to peer around and listen again. Still quiet. Once I was sure I wasn’t in imminent threat of attack, I took a moment to remove my rifle scope. Holding it like a monocular, I stuck my head up and carefully scanned all of the rooftops in the area. If the guy had any buddies with him, they hadn’t moved to high ground to keep watch.

  Moving slowly to ensure I didn’t make any sound, I reattached the scope and turned the corner. The guy I was hunting was on the opposite side of the hedge, about 100 yards away. Halfway between us, a sidewalk cut through, leaving a three-foot gap in the foliage. If I transitioned at that point, I would be able to approach the sniper from behind.

  I came to a stop a couple of yards short of the sidewalk. This was potentially the riskiest part of stalking the man. If he had anyone else watching his ass, they’d see me when I appeared in the break in the hedge. Hell, it was broad daylight.