Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12

by Dirk Patton

  “Did he have a strobe of any kind?” I asked, an idea taking shape.

  “Not that I saw,” Rachel said after thinking for a moment. “Why?”

  “Because this guy’s supposedly on a small inflatable raft that was built into his ejection seat. And, it seems to me, it would make sense for there to be an infrared strobe as part of the raft that would activate when it inflated.”

  “You think?” Rachel asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe. Naval aviation is a whole different world than what I ever operated in. But, it makes sense. Think about it. A rescue helo responds to the general location of an EPIRB signal at night. If the ocean is rough, its got to be a bitch to find a tiny little raft amidst all the waves. But, if there’s an IR strobe flashing away, it’ll be very easy to spot with their night vision.”

  “So, he might actually be easier to find in the dark?” Rachel asked.

  “Maybe,” I said. “I wish Lieutenant Sam was here. He’d know the answer.”

  “Should we take the chance and go out tonight?”

  “Probably,” I said, turning the idea over in my head. “I’ll decide by the time we get there.”

  We fell silent at that point, each lost in our own thoughts. There was only the sound of the tires on asphalt, and the clicking of ammunition going into magazines. I concentrated on my driving, pushing our speed up at every opportunity.

  Reaching a small state highway, I turned south, heading for Interstate 10. Once there, we’d follow it a short distance west, then turn south onto the road that would take us to Mexico and on to Puerto Penasco. There was only one town still to pass through, Gila Bend, Arizona, and I hoped it was as empty of infected as the Phoenix area had been.

  “Ever been to this place before?” Rachel asked after we were on I-10.

  “Puerto Penasco?”

  She nodded.

  “Lots of times,” I said, my chest tightening as a flood of memories came rushing in. “It’s called Rocky Point in Arizona.”

  “Vacation spot?”

  “Yeah,” I said, my voice husky. “Big party spot for people in Arizona. It’s an easy drive from Phoenix. We used to go down there all the time. Camp out on the beach and get drunk and set off fireworks. There're some pretty good bars in town, too. And, go down the right time of year and you can buy fresh caught shrimp right off the fishing boats. We’d bring pounds of it home and spend a whole day having a shrimp boil.”

  “So this was a good part of Mexico?”

  I snorted at that.

  “Well, it kind of was. You still had to be careful and pay attention to your surroundings. But at least then, pretty much the worst thing that would happen was you’d get robbed. We quit going several years ago. Same problems as everywhere along the border. I didn’t feel like going into a war zone for a vacation. Kind of a shame. We had some really good times there.”

  By this time, we had reached the highway that cut due south to the border, and I made the transition to it. The sun was low, and it was maybe an hour before it would dip below the mountains to our west. Tiffany had completed loading every one of the magazines and was dozing with her head tilted back. Dog had stretched his head into her lap and was snoring so loud I couldn’t imagine how the girl was sleeping.

  We breezed through Gila Bend twenty minutes later. It was just like Kingman and Phoenix. Devoid of any activity. I had to slow slightly for several wrecks, but the road was surprisingly clear. Passing beneath Interstate 8, I pushed our speed up again. Less than an hour later, light quickly fading, I slowed as we approached the border crossing into Mexico.

  Several small buildings had constituted the sum of both the American and Mexican presence at the portal. And they had all burned. Debris from the fire and a couple of gutted Border Patrol vehicles completely blocked the pavement. Slowing more, I shifted the Tahoe into four-wheel drive and plowed through the soft sand to the side, bypassing the wreckage.

  A hundred yards into Mexico, we bounced back onto pavement. There were several small towns that had grown up on the southern side of the border, and we had to pass through them. The light was almost gone, and I elected to use my night vision for driving, rather than turn on the SUV’s headlights. Driving slowly, we began passing a huge variety of shops that lined the highway, solely to serve American tourists on their way to Rocky Point and beyond.

  Less than half a mile into the first town, we began encountering females. Responding to the noise our vehicle was making, they emerged from within businesses and homes that either no longer had a door, or the door was standing open. Some of them stood and watched us pass, while others charged at full speed to slam into the front and sides of the Tahoe.

  The impacts were brutal, and I was worrying about the vehicle’s ability to withstand the onslaught. As badly as I wanted to accelerate and get out into the open desert, I forced myself to hold our speed at a sedate pace. Too fast and all of the bodies could damage the Chevy to the point that we’d be stuck.

  Though she wasn’t voicing it, Tiffany was freaking out in the back seat. In concert with nearly every blow from a female, I could hear a small gasp of fright escape her mouth. She was breathing hard, panting even, as if she’d just run a race. I risked a glance in the mirror, seeing that she had her arms tightly wrapped around Dog’s neck, her face pressed against him for comfort.

  “You notice the smart ones?” Rachel asked.

  “The ones just standing back and watching? Yeah, I saw ‘em.”

  “What do we do if it’s like this when we get to Rocky Point? There’s too many for us to fight through and find a boat.”

  “Deal with it when we get there,” I said through gritted teeth.

  I yanked the wheel to avoid four females who suddenly charged from behind a building and were on a direct path for our front bumper. The maneuver was mostly successful, avoiding three of them, but the other one made a mighty leap and landed on the hood.

  For a moment, it seemed as if she paused to stare at me through the windshield. I couldn’t see the red eyes, colors not coming through in the NVGs, but I could clearly make out the mask of rage that distorted her features. With a scream, she pulled on the edge of the hood and lifted her hand to smash the glass separating us.

  In slow motion, I saw something in her hand. A rock large enough to shatter the only thing protecting us from her. As she began the blow, I jammed my foot on the brakes. The nose of the Tahoe dipped, and everyone was thrown forward, equipment in the cargo area loudly clanging as it shifted.

  The female was caught off-guard. With only one hand grasping the hood, she was thrown free before the rock could contact the windshield. The instant she disappeared, I hit the gas, and the engine roared as we surged forward and bounced over her body. She had still been tumbling on the asphalt, not having had time to regain her feet.

  There was a loud bang from the back, then the sound of breaking glass. Rachel whipped around in her seat, cursing when her rifle barrel got stuck on the center console. Jerking it free, she thrust it over the rear seat, ready to fight.

  I looked in the mirror, seeing that the back window was shattered, but still held mostly in place by the layer of plastic that made it safety glass. A female running behind us had apparently been able to catch up when I braked hard to lose the one on the hood. She was still right there, preparing to hit the undamaged part of the window with a rock.

  “Don’t fire!” I shouted, jamming the accelerator to the floor.

  The Tahoe surged, the female missing us and screaming in frustration as we pulled away. Keeping our speed up, I did my best to avoid the charging infected while swerving around debris and wrecked vehicles that were on the road.

  “What the hell?” Rachel said when she turned to face forward. “We haven’t seen that before!”

  “They’re getting smarter,” I said. “We’d better remember that when we’re on foot.”

  I pushed on and fortunately, it didn’t take long to pass out of the last small town and int
o the desert. The really good news was that we left all of the females behind. Holding our speed down, I drove several miles before pulling to a stop in the middle of the road.

  “What are you doing?” Rachel asked, looking around in alarm.

  “Making sure we didn’t take any damage before I push our speed up,” I said, popping my door open and stepping out into the night.

  Dog jumped onto my seat, then followed me out. While I scanned a full circle with the night vision goggles, he raised his nose to test the breeze. Immediately he began growling. I checked him, and he was facing into the wind, which was coming from the direction of the towns. He smelled the infected we’d just driven through. I hoped.

  Not seeing any danger in the immediate area, I made a quick circle of the Tahoe. I was most concerned with the tires. We’d driven over numerous bodies as well as debris fields I hadn’t been able to avoid. I was worried that a tire might have been damaged but breathed a sigh of relief when they all appeared to be intact. A quick look at the grill to make sure our radiator was ok and I called Dog back into the SUV. He leapt in, and moments later I was accelerating on the perfectly straight, two-lane highway that ran to Rocky Point.

  It’s only sixty miles, or so, across flat, open desert, and we drove in silence. I was lost in thought, considering the implications of females having grown smart enough to pick up a rock to smash their way inside our vehicle. Up until now, even the smart ones could be managed. But if they’d reached the point where they could reason and use tools…

  “There weren’t any males,” Rachel said, her voice startling me in the quiet.

  I thought for a minute, then realized she was right.

  “The ones standing on the side of the road watching us were pregnant.”

  “What?” Rachel and I both said in surprise after Tiffany spoke.

  “They were pregnant. They didn’t run after us. They just stood there, watching.”

  I traded glances with Rachel, thinking about the implications.

  “Are you sure?”

  Rachel turned in her seat to face Tiffany.

  “Yes. Every single one of them. And most looked pretty far along, like they’ve only got maybe three or four months to go.”

  We were quiet for another mile, thinking about the new development.

  “How long since the attacks?” Rachel asked in a quiet voice.

  “I don’t even know what month it is, for sure,” I said, shaking my head. “But I think it’s been about six months or so. Feels like years.”

  Rachel nodded.

  “Remember when we went to the casino to rescue Katie? The two infected on the ground that kind of freaked us out?”

  She was talking about a male and female infected we had seen having sex. The male was either too brain damaged or uncoordinated to do anything other than lie on his back, but the female on top appeared to have successfully mated before she killed him.

  “You think that’s why we aren’t seeing as many males? Or any, for that matter?” I asked.

  “What are you talking about?” Tiffany asked.

  Rachel spent a few minutes filling her in, then looked at me and answered my question.

  “It could explain it, yes. We’ve been wondering what the females are eating. Maybe that’s the answer. They kill the male after intercourse, then there’s plenty of meat available to sustain them.”

  “Are you serious?” Tiffany asked. “You really think the females are trying to get pregnant? OK, I’ll buy that they might eat the males. I’ve seen them eat just about anything. But, sex?”

  “We don’t have any idea how the virus has impacted their brains, other than to induce rage. Perhaps there are some researchers that do, but… Anyway, reproduction is a base level instinct, hardwired into every animal. Humans are included in that. Just because the females’ higher cognitive functions have been stripped away, it doesn’t mean…”

  Rachel trailed off as another thought came to her.

  “What?” I prompted when she didn’t say anything.

  “The babies,” she said. “What will they be like?”

  I looked at her and couldn’t manage to suppress a shudder.

  “Don’t think I want to find out,” I said in a quiet voice.

  36

  “What do we do?” Rachel asked quietly.

  We were standing on the edge of a small bluff that overlooked the town of Rocky Point, Mexico. And, it was crawling with infected. Even at a distance, it was impossible not to notice them. Females, stalking about, seemingly in search of prey. Many more females standing in the streets and on the sidewalks, watching their sisters hunt.

  “Not sure, yet,” I said. “The marina is right by downtown, and we aren’t getting through that. The whole area is lousy with them.”

  “What’s that?”

  I turned to see where Tiffany was pointing. It was a tall building, north of town, situated on the beach.

  “Tourist hotel,” I said, remembering it had been under construction the last time I’d been here.

  “A beach hotel for tourists should have some boats, shouldn’t it?” She asked.

  I looked at her and smiled. She was right. They most likely would have something, and it would probably be in better shape than many of the floating rattletraps I’d seen that were part of the fishing fleet.

  We climbed back into the Tahoe and, after engaging the four-wheel drive system, I headed across the desert, carving a path around the perimeter of town. The going was slow, but the big SUV handled the terrain and soft sand without any problems.

  It took us most of fifteen minutes to navigate to within a half a mile of the hotel. There was nothing around for at least three miles, and I was feeling good about Tiffany’s suggestion. Shutting the engine off, I took a moment to check my rifle over.

  “Why are we stopping here?” Tiffany asked.

  “Noise,” I said without looking up. “If there’s infected hanging around, I don’t want to come any closer and alert them to our presence. We go on foot from here. Quiet and dark.”

  Not bothering to wait and see if she had anything to say to that, I stepped out onto the sand. Dog came out right behind me, and a moment later the girls emerged from the far side of the Tahoe.

  I could smell the sea on a gentle night breeze, and the dull roar of surf faintly reached my ears. Dog lifted his nose, growling a moment later. The wind was coming directly across the large resort complex, and he was smelling infected. Hopefully, they were all in and around the buildings and not on the beach.

  We didn’t need to go into the structure to get a boat. If there was one, it would be on the beach. There was probably also an outbuilding where the keys were locked up, somewhere on the sand. I was hoping it was going to be that easy.

  Taking some time to survey the area, I signaled to Rachel the path we were going to take. She nodded, and I headed out with Dog at my side. Tiffany walked next to Rachel, the pair keeping an eye on our rear as we moved.

  The sand was soft and loose, making walking difficult. Frequent clumps of dry grass rustled in the wind, but there wasn’t anything else moving or making noise. As we drew closer, the roar of waves crashing on the beach intensified. The Sea of Cortez may not be large, but it has strong tides and surprisingly intense surf.

  We gave the resort grounds a wide berth, skirting them on the north side, well away from the town. Every hundred yards I’d stop to scan carefully, then resume our advance after checking to make sure Rachel hadn’t spotted something of concern.

  Past the hotel, we transitioned onto the beach. The only real difference was there were no longer clumps of grass. Now, it was only pure sand. And it was very deep. With each step, my boots sank several inches before reaching solid purchase. I didn’t like this. If we had to run, we would be severely hampered. Hopefully, the females would have the same problem.

  I’d yet to spot any of the infected that Dog had scented when we got out of the SUV. But, that didn’t make me doubt him for an instant. It
just told me that we’d been lucky so far.

  Stopping a few yards short of the water, I took another long look around. No infected in sight, and a hundred yards south I spotted a small building sitting on stilts, close to the surf. Beyond it, on the sand well away from the waves, were several shapes that looked like boats. Checking on the girls, I signed our new direction and led the way.

  The going was slow, partially because of the footing, but also due to my growing paranoia that infected were going to spot us at any second. My head was on a swivel, and I frequently stumbled in the sand as we moved. Dog, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem and flowed easily along the beach.

  With a silent curse, I took us closer to the water to walk on sand that had been compacted and smoothed by the waves. It was a relief to reach it and be able to walk normally, even if our feet were getting an occasional soaking.

  We covered the remaining distance quickly, then slowed as we approached the elevated building. On the far side, both a set of stairs and a long ramp led up from the beach to what I assumed was its entrance. Circling through the soft sand to go around, I kept my rifle up and ready as the other side came into view.

  There was a door, and a waist-high window facing a small balcony that ran its length. Both were tightly shuttered, the padlocks that secured them swinging gently in the wind. I double checked to make sure there wasn’t an infected hiding beneath the building, then turned my attention to the boats I’d seen.

  They were about 25 feet long with sharp, high bows and squared off sterns. These weren’t pleasure craft; they were rescue boats that could quickly get through pounding surf to reach swimmers in trouble. There was only one problem. None of them had a motor.

  Cursing silently in my head, I turned a slow circle, looking for a likely storage place for the motors. Other than the main hotel buildings, there were only two structures. One was the building on stilts right behind me. The other was much larger with a tattered awning and a dozen tables scattered around. It sat at the upper edge of the beach and had to be a bar so guests had easy access to their next margarita.