Caldera

by Heath Stallcup

  He froze as the woods around him suddenly erupted with the sounds of breaking branches and twigs snapping. His eyes caught movement in the shadows all around the two of them, but he dared not break eye contact with her lest she bolt on him. He was determined not to let her escape again.

  As more and more shadows quickly moved around them, Mitch suddenly realized, there were a lot more of them than he had ever thought were out here. That sick feeling in the pit of his stomach twisted his guts into a knot and he knew he wasn’t leaving this small clearing in one piece. His best guestimate put more than fifteen others surrounding his position, and if they moved half as fast as the crazy naked bitch, he was screwed.

  With resignation, Mitch knew what he had to do. He came here with the intent of killing her or to die trying…he brought the front site up level with her forehead again and smiled. “See you in Hell, bitch,” he said softly as he squeezed the trigger.

  Richard slowed the Jeep, and Bill leaned down through the open front of the roof. “Why are you slowing? I’m not seeing anything yet.”

  “In the tree line.” Richard pointed.

  Bill glanced over and saw numerous sets of eyes reflecting the lights from the Jeep back at them. Bill shook his head…Do human eyes reflect light like that? “Then go!”

  Richard gunned the Jeep and shot up the hill toward the larger campground. “What if they don’t follow us?”

  “Our goal is to get to your house,” Bill shouted down into the cabin. “If they follow, they follow, if they don’t, good!”

  Richard fought with the mixed feelings he had and slowed the Jeep to take the curve ahead. The little SUV slid around the curve and he gunned the engine again, spinning gravel and accelerating them toward the campgrounds. People started jumping out of the brush and tree line as the Jeep approached, but their timing was off and the vehicle slipped past the ambush.

  “Keep going, keep going!” Bill urged as he braced himself.

  Richard continued to accelerate and maneuvered the Jeep through the trash and past the burned-out campsites. “Don’t slow down!” Bill yelled as he leveled his pistol across the top of the windshield frame.

  Richard shouted up to him, “I’m going to have to, there’s too much junk out here.” He slowed the Jeep slightly as he swerved hard first left, then right, and edged far too close to one burning trailer for Bill’s comfort. “We’re almost through.” Richard edged between two oversized coolers. He accelerated again once he was clear of the larger debris and headed up toward the main road. “Our turnoff is right up there.” He patted Bill’s leg and pointed.

  Bill squinted against the cold night air, fighting to look past the tears that streamed across his face. He followed where Rich pointed and he could just see the beginnings of the trail. “I’m not seeing anybody behind us,” he yelled down into the cabin. “I think you can slow down now.”

  Bill slumped down into the passenger seat and exhaled hard. “That wind is brisk.” He spit out the wings of a bug that had splattered near the edge of his mouth.

  Richard acted as though he didn’t hear him and slowed the Jeep as he pulled off onto the trail. “This road can be rough in spots,” he reiterated.

  “What choice do we have?”

  Richard slowed nearly to a stop. “You have a choice, Bill. It’s your Jeep and it’s a nice one. This trail could do some real damage.”

  Bill stared at the man as if he were daft. “Are you going to drive or are we walking to your house?”

  Richard chuckled. “Definitely driving.”

  “Then press down on the skinny pedal and get us going before those crazy sons-of-bitches catch up to us.”

  Chapter 11

  “Pick up the pace or we’ll never find Mom,” Buck barked, hate seething in his voice.

  Bob stopped and bit back a scathing remark. “Let’s not forget who shot whom.”

  Buck slumped his shoulders, and, although his back was turned, Bob knew he was rolling his eyes. “Jesus, Dad, it was a practice arrow, and I barely grazed your shoulder.”

  “It was a crossbow bolt, and you sunk it right above my HEART!”

  “Shh!” Buck shushed him as he came marching back toward him. “Do you want to attract all the zombies here?”

  “There you go again with the whole zombie thing,” Bob sighed. “Son, they’re obviously sick—”

  “Dad!” Buck exclaimed in a loud whisper. “They’re trying to kill people, bite them, eat them, who knows what else. Does that sound like a bad cold to you?”

  “Don’t get smart.” Bob dropped his bag and tried to roll his shoulder. “And dig me out a few more of those Tylenols while we’re stopped.”

  “We don’t need to be stopped,” Buck insisted. “We need to be moving.”

  Bob squared his good shoulder and glared down at his son. “And I’m saying get me some Tylenol,” he stated through clenched teeth.

  Buck sighed and threw his pack down. “Fine, let’s just kill more time,” he muttered as he dug through his pack and pulled the travel-sized bottle out. He tossed it to Bob and zipped his pack up. “Just keep ’em. Maybe we won’t have to stop so often.”

  Bob flipped the top and slid a couple of the bitter pills into his mouth. After washing them down with a bit of water, he shoved the bottle into his shirt pocket. “I swear, I don’t know what’s gotten into you.” He bent and picked up his bag. “One minute, you’re all about saving the world, the next minute you’re pissed off because I’m playing Rambo and shooting anything and anybody we come across.”

  “You sort of skimmed over the whole part about the zombies.” Buck turned and headed back up the trail of cars.

  “Oh, yeah. Let’s just start labeling people so it makes it easier to kill them,” Bob mocked him. “I get it now. And where does it stop, Buck?”

  “I don’t know, Dad, why don’t you tell me?”

  “Why not, ‘Let’s shoot the black folks ’cuz they’re different than us. And let’s shoot the Asians ’cuz they score better on their SATs. Oh, and let’s shoot the Hispanics ’cuz they come to take our jobs. And—”

  Buck turned on him and shoved a finger in his face. “If any of them came running in here and tackled you and tried to eat your damned face? Yeah, I’d say kill ’em!” Buck whispered hatefully. “What the hell is your problem, Dad? What part of this isn’t sinking in?” He spread his arms and made a big circle. “Welcome to the zombie apocalypse! Grab your ticket, it’s a helluva ride!”

  “You need to just settle your little—”

  “No! You need a wakeup call.” Buck picked up his pack again. “These people aren’t your friends, they aren’t your coworkers, they aren’t campers here to have a fun time with their families. They’re zombies now. If they’re trying to eat you, then you fucking shoot them!” He slapped his hand against his forehead in exasperation. “How dense do you have to be?”

  “That’s uncalled for!” Bob called out to him as Buck continued on.

  A scream in the distance froze both of them in their tracks, and Buck turned and shot Bob a hateful look. “You might want to pull your gun for this one, Pops. I don’t think he wants to play checkers.”

  Bob sighed, pulled the 9mm, and held it ready. “Come closer to me,” Bob whispered. “I don’t want to accidentally shoot you.”

  Buck closed the space between them and they edged over closer to a minivan. The two lowered themselves below the roofline and scooted from vehicle to vehicle, checking in all directions before moving. “I hear movement over there.” Buck pointed to the other side of the line of cars. Bob nodded and pulled Buck closer and behind him.

  Bob edged forward and eased his head up to peer through the window of the passenger door of the car they were up against. He couldn’t make out distinct shapes, but he noted shadows on the other side flitting about. He slid back down along the edge of the car and held the gun ready. The sounds of gravel crunching and feet sliding in the dirt along the edge of the road could be heard as someone ran quickly a
long the edge of the road.

  Buck counted as Bob checked both sides for anyone approaching. As the sounds of the feet quickly faded, Bob let out a breath and slumped to the ground. “My nerves can’t take this much longer,” he admitted.

  “Well, at least you didn’t have to shoot anybody,” Buck muttered bitterly.

  Bob shook his head and finally handed Buck the pistol. “Here.”

  Buck stared at the pistol for a few moments then stared at him. “Why’d you do that?”

  “You just don’t get it, do you?” Bob asked. “When I shot that one guy, it was a lucky shot. Pure freaking luck.” He shook his head as his hand trembled. “I can’t hit the broadside of a barn with one of those,” he admitted softly. “And in case you haven’t noticed, noise seems to attract those crazy sons-of-bitches. So, if you shoot one, dozens, maybe even hundreds are likely to come sniffing around. So, you go right ahead. Shoot all you want.” Bob struggled to get to his feet. “But I’m going to go ahead and say, ‘I told you so’ now. Because, I guarantee you, I won’t get the chance to tell you that once you pull that trigger.”

  Bob stretched his back and stared off in the direction the crazies had run. Unfortunately, that’s the direction they were headed. He could hear the music, and with the way the crazies were hauling ass toward it, he felt pretty certain that if Lucky had heard it, she would be headed in that direction, too.

  He felt something hard poke him in the side. “Here.”

  Bob looked down and saw the gun in his hand. “I thought you wanted to go all movie action hero on their asses?”

  Buck shook his head. “Naw, with my luck, I’d just end up shooting you. Again.” He smirked.

  Bob grabbed the weapon and tucked it back into his waistband. “Okay, then. No more bullshit about shooting anything and everything that runs by us then, okay? This is only for a ‘have to’ situation.”

  Buck nodded his head and slung his pack back over his shoulder. “Sounds pretty smart to me.”

  “If that’s an apology, I’ll take it.” Bob scruffled Buck’s hair with his good arm. “Now let’s see if we can find your mom.”

  Hatcher sat on his ATV and contemplated what to do. He had one group of campers on a killing spree. He had just called in for support and found out that the personnel at the concert had their hands full when a group of campers charged the audience and a fight broke out. EMTs were swamped dealing with minor cuts, scratches, bruises and bites. Most of the campers had fled into the woods, most likely to avoid prosecution, if Hatcher had to guess.

  “What the hell is going on out here, Hatcher?” Shelly asked. She sounded as if she were about to lose it herself.

  He looked at her and for the first time in her life, she could see that he didn’t have all the answers. “I have no idea, Shell.” Hatcher shrugged, his brows knitted. “I can’t raise Mitch on the radio, half the deputies are scattered and trying to deal with other issues…”

  He knew that a lot of those issues, he had requested they leave their post to investigate. Then the vacationers got fed up with the noise and started a brawl and now their forces were spread too thin.

  Hatcher hung his head and sighed. “We should get back to the concert. See if we can get things settled down over there.”

  “What about Fisher?” Shelly asked quietly. “What about the campers out here? What about—”

  “I don’t know,” he cut her off a little too sharply. Hatcher averted his eyes and softened his tone a bit. “Fisher will either have to take care of himself or just have to wait. The campers we’ll have to deal with later.” He started the ATV and stared off into the woods a moment. “All I know is, it seems like everything is going to hell right now, and the last thing I want to do is thin our resources any more than they already are.” He gave her the saddest look she had ever seen when he added, “But I’m not risking you. You’re staying with me.”

  Shelly fell in behind Hatcher as they worked their way back toward the concert site. Hatcher slipped his ATV between brush and across trails she would never have found without him, and before she knew it, they were rolling down a hill toward a road that, in the darkness, anyway, she was swearing she had never even seen before.

  Hatcher slid the ATV hard left and accelerated into the darkness and Shelly followed suit, keeping his taillights tight in her headlight beam. She stayed just to his right and along the ditch in case any traffic crested a hill and to prevent the dust and grit coming from his back wheels from pelting her. After about a quarter of a mile of travelling the road, she began to note landmarks that gave her back her bearings. Her mind reeled as she realized just where they were and how they had gotten there. Smiling inwardly, she knew they would soon be pulling past a series of hot springs and that the Ranger Station and the concert would be only minutes away.

  As the pair crested a rocky hill, a giant motorhome came into view and Hatcher slowed the ATV. Shelly pulled alongside and shook her head. “That’s not an authorized camping area,” she noted.

  “I know.” He glanced back the way they’d come. “But considering the traffic down toward the station, they may have just parked for the night, too.” He gave Shelly a knowing look. “We had better warn them to lock the doors and keep that thing sealed up until we can get a handle on what the hell is going on here.”

  “Good idea,” she agreed as he rolled the ATV forward and killed the engine in front of the extremely large motorcoach.

  Hatcher stepped off and stretched his back before approaching the door. He held a hand up to silence Shelly as they listened for sounds, then he shook his head. “They could be asleep,” he offered.

  “Knock.” Shelly handed him her Maglite.

  Hatcher rapped on the door of the coach and waited. He placed his ear against the door and listened intently, then pulled back and shook his head. “Park Rangers!” he yelled and beat on the door again.

  Shelly reached past him and pulled the door open. “Not locked. Wouldn’t hurt to take a look.”

  Hatcher shrugged and stepped inside, drawing his weapon as he stepped up into the RV. “Park Rangers,” he announced as he stepped into the luxurious coach. He motioned Shelly to the rear as he went forward. Hatcher searched the kitchen area and the operator’s cabin and found nothing.

  “Hatch!” Shelly called. She was standing in front of what Hatcher guessed to be the lavatory.

  He rushed the short distance to find the small bathroom covered in dried blood. Only the water mixed puddles in the shower and sink bottom still held tints of red, the rest had dried either dark brown or speckles of black.

  “I’m going back,” Shelly announced as Hatcher opened the medicine cabinet and saw the blood smeared throughout.

  “Shelly, someone could have been hurt and went looking for help.”

  “Oh, my God,” Shelly gasped as she dropped to her knees and flipped open her knife. “Who could do something like this?” She began cutting at the duct tape holding the obviously young girl in the floor of the bedroom.

  “What’s going on?” Hatcher stepped into the bedroom and Shelly looked up at him with tears forming in her eyes. It didn’t take but one look for Hatcher to guess what Shelly had guessed. Someone had caught a young girl and abducted her, probably for sex.

  “Get that off her face!” Shelly called as she continued to try to cut at the tape. “Easy, honey, don’t squirm. We’re park rangers and we’re here to help you. Easy now, I don’t want to cut you.”

  Hatcher dropped to her head and began tugging at the pillow case over her head. He had no sooner pulled it off when he saw the duct tape wrapped around her head. Her long, blonde hair tangled and caught in the sticky reinforcing tape. “Oh, man, this is going to hurt,” he said softly.

  Daniel began trying to work his fingers between the girl’s hair and the tape, separating it. He pulled out his knife and cut the tape, being careful to cut away from her skin, then pulled the tape down and away from her chin.

  “Almost have her hands free,” Sh
elly commented.

  The young girl was lying nearly on her stomach while the two rangers worked to free her, and Hatcher pulled the tape from the sides of her mouth just as Shelly unbound her hands. “There we go, sweetie,” Hatcher said. “So how about you tell us your name?” He tried to roll her over.

  The young girl screeched a snarling, feral sound from deep in her throat and lunged at Shelly, sinking her fingernails deep in her neck and pulling her forward, teeth clicking as they snapped together. Hatcher grabbed the girl just before she could bite Shelly, but she’d been pulled off balance and fell forward on top of the girl who sunk her nails deeper into Shelly’s skin and tried to pull her into a bear hug. Shelly gasped at the incredible strength of the girl as she pulled her into her grip and stretched her neck to unreal lengths to try to bite her.

  Shelly forced her arm between them and locked her elbow out to keep her face from those snapping teeth. She felt the burn as the girl’s nails dug deeper into her flesh and the scream the girl emitted as she dug in and tried to pull her closer, neither of which had anything to do with the ribs that cracked as Shelly pushed harder against her.

  Hatcher reached over the top of the young girl and brought his arm down hard in the bend of the girl’s elbows, breaking her grip long enough for Shelly to roll away and put some distance between herself and the crazy teenaged girl. Hatcher grabbed the comforter from the floor and used it to wrap the girl up once again, then using all of his strength, pushed her over and lay on top of her.

  “Look around! See if you can find that damned tape again!” Hatcher yelled.

  Shelly held a hand to her neck to hold back the blood that flowed from the deep punctures and scratches as she searched, but try as she might, she couldn’t find anything. “The only thing here are a few small pieces of cords.”

  “Hand them here,” he grunted as he fought to control the girl, hand extended. He grabbed the cord and was just seeing the blood flowing from Shelly’s neck. “Go wash up in the bathroom and grab the first aid kit from my ATV. Get something over those wounds so they don’t get infected. I’m gonna truss her up again.”