“You okay, son?” Walter asked, confused.
“Yeah,” Jesse said, rubbing his belly. “It’s nothing.”
“Wasn’t nothing by a long shot, son. You turned white as a ghost.”
“We okay to come in?” Jesse asked, changing the subject.
Walter nodded. “Sure, why not? Make yourself at home. Mi casa and all that. Bet you a sawbuck you are all hungry. Am I right?” He turned and started walking down a long entryway leading back inside the mountain. Jesse could see that it ended in a T-intersection about forty feet away. The walls, ceiling, and floor were painted in two different shades of green, lighter at the top, darker starting about hip high going to the floor. A bank of fluorescent lights ran down the center, hanging just below the ceiling. There was no dust, dirt, or anything else to be seen, which was weird. Andrea had said the place had been overrun and everyone had been killed. There should have been blood everywhere, or at least stains of some sort.
But it was clean, a little too clean.
They reached the T-intersection and turned left. Cory went right instead.
Walter stopped. “It’s this way, son.” He watched Cory for a beat. “Latrine is this way too. Going that way will take you to a bunch of offices and storage areas. Nothing but leftover junk.”
Cory continued walking that way.
“Stop,” Andrea said. She hurried to catch up to Cory. She said something to him that Jesse could not hear. Cory shook his head. She said something else and he nodded. They both came back to join Walter, who stared at them, his expression unreadable.
Jesse used the time to examine the walls more closely. They had been repainted recently, but the concrete floor had not. Patches of darker paint mixed with patches of light. The floor was stained, after all. It had just been well cleaned. Probably with bleach.
They continued down another series of corridors until turning right and entering an open space at least forty feet by twenty. Aluminum tables with aluminum chairs surrounding them filled the space. At the rear was a cafeteria line. In orderly stacks to the right were trays, as if this place were only waiting for people to return to it to become fully operational. At the back was a set of porthole doors that presumably led off to the kitchen.
“You hungry?” Walter asked.
“We have some food we can share,” Jesse said. “It’s out in the Humvee though. Some raptor meat, mostly.”
Walter chuckled. “Oh, that’s okay. Probably won’t need it just yet. By the way, that is some special vehicle you arrived in. You build it up like that?”
Jesse glanced at Cory then shook his head. “No, we sorta borrowed it.”
Walter chuckled. “Sure beats walking, I’m sure. I’d piss my pants if I saw that thing bearing down on me.”
“It got us all here in one piece,” Jesse commented as he moved aside to let Andrea, Eve, and Kate find a spot at one of the aluminum tables.
Walter clapped his hands once. “Well, if you’ll give me a few minutes—make it twenty—I’ll go whip us up something up to eat. I promise you that you’ll enjoy my cooking, even if I haven’t had the pleasure of cooking for anybody in years.”
Jesse nodded.
Walter continued, “This place is chock full of supplies. Got just about everything one could ever need, including enough lentils and rice and potatoes to last a hundred years.” He stopped and made a head-shaking sour face at Kate. “But I hate that crap. So, how about some cheeseburgers and fries? That going to be okay?”
-19-
BURGER ME
JESSE WASN’T EXACTLY sure what he’d just heard. He had to play it over in his mind and parse over every word.
Yup.
Cheeseburger. Fries.
Walter smiled, seeing the reaction his statement had generated. “Afraid, though, they are only reconstituted freeze-dried beef of some sort. Sealed and preserved for fifty years, according to the label. But they do taste pretty good if you put enough seasoning on them. Might even have some onion rings too. Now, those aren’t quite as tasty, but... guess we can’t have it all now, can we.”
“Fries would be fine,” Eve said, politely.
Jesse shook his head and stared over his shoulder at her in amazement.
“Whatever is easiest,” he said, returning to Walter. “We’d certainly appreciate anything you have.”
The old guy winked at Jesse and unbuttoned his shirtsleeves. “Now, you all make yourselves comfortable. Let old Walter T. do what he does best. I was a cook once, I’ll let you know.” He headed for the kitchen doors and disappeared into the backroom.
Jesse went to sit in one of the chairs. He pulled it out and leaned back to sit down but ended up flat on his ass on the floor.
Cheeseburger. Damn.
“You okay?” Eve asked.
“Yes,” Jesse replied, waving off her help.
“I need to…find a restroom,” she said.
“Okay. Andrea, you and Kate go with her.”
“I’ll be okay on my own,” Eve said.
“No, I want them with you.”
She turned away slowly and grabbed a small bag she’d brought with her and left. Andrea and Kate followed.
“How about that?” Jesse asked.
Cory said nothing. He started inspecting his sword, feeling along the edge. Then he sheathed it.
“Finally got you here.”
“You did,” he said. He scanned the room and stood. “Now, I have to go find what I came for.”
“Can’t you just wait until we’ve at least eaten. Seems kind of rude to be walking out now.”
Cory grunted, but relaxed at little in his chair.
Jesse waited for the ladies to return, going over everything he’d been through to get here. Chasing a silly virus around might have been a pointless exercise, but he’d found the point of it all—a cheeseburger and fries, well, onion rings. His mouth was already watering in anticipation.
A few minutes later, Andrea and Kate returned.
“Where’s Eve?” Jesse asked.
“She should be along soon,” Andrea said. “She needed a little extra time.”
“Why? You shouldn’t leave her alone.”
Andrea stared Jesse down.
“Oh,” he said, “that.”
Jesse heard exhaust fans spool up in the kitchen. Walter was probably starting the grill, and it would take a few minutes to heat up. He considered returning to the Humvee and getting their things. But why? No one had been here in months, if not years. He set the shotgun on the table in front of him and brushed at it, wiping off tiny bits of dust that were sticking to the oil he had applied earlier.
Soon he caught a whiff of cooking meat coming from the kitchen. He could hear the gentle whir of the exhaust fans as they droned on, trying to suck away the aroma he so desired. Burgers. Actual, real beef burgers.
Eve returned.
“You were gone for quite a while,” he said. “You all okay now?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” she said curtly. She took a seat at the same table as everyone else. The aluminum chair scratched at the floor as she sat. “I just needed a little more…time.”
Walter pushed through the double doors into the dining area. “Forgot to tell you. Bathrooms are that way, if you are wanting to get cleaned up.”
“Thanks,” Jesse said.
“How much longer?” Eve asked.
Cory grunted and let his chair fall from two legs onto all four. He’d been picking his nails clean with a knife. Kate waited patiently in a chair, keeping her eyes focused on nothing and yet seemingly everything at the same time. Andrea was digging through her bag for something.
“Mind if I join you?” Jesse asked Walter.
“No need. Go get cleaned up. I can handle a little cooking.”
Jesse thought about it a moment while watching Walter return to the kitchen. Everything had gone just a little too easy. Walter had seemed maybe a little too nice. Was this all just a surface thing? Jesse knew not to trust that. First appeara
nces were great when trying to size up an immediate danger, but it did not work so well when that danger might take a little more time to unfold. He realized he had not been suspicious when he had first met Walter. Now something seemed off, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. With a sudden spike of fear, he leaned forward, sliding his hand over the tabletop.
“What’s wrong?” Andrea asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing, I hope.”
“You can trust him,” Andrea said flatly.
Jesse nodded. He could, couldn’t he? Still, he wasn’t convinced. Andrea seemed to think the guy was okay. And he had so far seen no ill will, no deception. But those were all surface features. The worst types of people could hide all that.
Then it hit him. What if the burgers weren’t really beef? What if they were—?
He shot up from his chair.
“What?” Eve asked.
Jesse motioned for everyone to remain in the dining area and pushed through the kitchen doors. He found Walter standing over a flat metal cooktop, wearing a white chef’s hat.
“Don’t get to cook much like this,” Walter said. “Beef, too. Not something we have a lot of since they aren’t making it anymore.”
“And how—?” Jesse started to ask.
“How is it still good?” Walter finished. “Leave it to these people here. They were planning for the long haul.”
Was it really beef? Jesse wondered. He’d seen too many horror movies about this same situation.
Walter gazed at him for a few seconds. Then he laughed heartily and returned to the grill, flipping two of the patties. “Oh no, no, no, I’m not serving you any people-burgers, if that’s what you think. At least not yet. Can’t see that you all have enough good meat to keep me fed, oh no, sir.” He flipped the other two patties and pressed the grease from them. “All skin and bones, you are.”
Jesse didn’t know what to say. It seemed so surreal. Was this guy just plain crazy? Had he been alone for too long?
“So, cheeseburgers, huh?” Walter asked. “How ‘bout the others? Not often I get to cook like this.”
“Uh, yeah,” Jesse said.
“Yeah, cheese, or yeah something else?”
“Cheese.”
“Okay. Cheeseburgers it is. Got the fryer going over there. Would you go drop some onion rings in it? Just unseal them on that contraption over there. It brings them back from the dead.”
Walter laughed again, this time at his own joke.
Puzzled, Jesse made his way to the fryer.
“It’s hot,” Walter warned. “You do know what you’re doing, right Army boy?”
Jesse had never been a fry cook, but it couldn’t be too hard. “Yeah, think I can figure it out.”
He found the vacuum-sealed bag filled with onion rings, unsealed it, and dumped them all into the fryer at once. Steam exploded, blasting him in the face. The oil bubbled and sizzled and popped and spattered. He jerked backward, covering his eyes as he ducked away, bumped the table behind him, fell sideways, and rattled the pots and pans hanging on hooks above the table.
Walter rushed over and pulled Jesse up and out of the way. “You dumped them all in at once?” He sighed, shaking his head. “Army, figures. Didn’t you ever pull KP?”
Stunned, Jesse let Walter pull him to standing. The old man had a strong grip, which made it feel effortless.
“Just let me handle it. You go check on the burgers. You can do that right? You know what a cooked burger looks like or do I need to describe it?”
Embarrassed, Jesse said, “Yeah, think I can handle it.” He returned to the cooktop and looked at the burgers, thinking how in the hell he was going to tell if they were done. They were gray and sizzling, but done? He’d been cooking raptor meat for so long he’d almost forgotten what real beef looked like when done. And these patties had already started out gray and were still gray.
He did have a vague memory of what he used to do and checked both sides of the stove, looking for a thermometer. He’d cooked burgers many times in his Texas backyard, but never on a grill indoors. That just wasn’t the way it was done in Texas. They’d kick you out of the state if they ever caught you cooking meat indoors.
And, in reality, who really cared if they were cooked through or not? Even if they gave him food poisoning, it didn’t matter. Anything would beat eating raptor meat for the zillionth time.
As he stared at the grill, he still couldn’t get the idea out of his mind that those burgers had not really come from cows. They had to be something else. What would stay preserved for over five years? Something else, yeah. Walter was lying to them, somehow. He lifted the corner of one of the burgers right as Walter returned.
“Let me take over,” Walter said. “You just stay out my way. Wait… Maybe there is something you can do.” He set the spatula down next to the grill and scuttled from the room. He returned with an open cardboard box. “Think you can handle this?”
Jesse looked inside the box. There were buns in tightly sealed packets along with ketchup and mustard and mayo, along with some other things that looked like tomatoes, but it was hard to tell through the thick plastic. Walter grabbed one of the packets and opened it with a knife. That one appeared to contain some yellowish squares of cheese.
While Jesse cut out the buns from the plastic that entombed them, Walter put cheese on the burgers and scooted them to another side of the grill. He went to find some plates and set them up on the counter across from the grill. “Okay, buns, now, if you will.”
Jesse pulled out enough buns to fill the plates and Walter added a burger to each. He returned to the fryer, lifted the onion rings, and dumped them on a platter.
“Order up,” he said. “I’ve missed saying that.”
Jesse nodded. He still wasn’t one-hundred percent sure about the burgers, but his mouth was watering uncontrollably, and his stomach was growling. For once, maybe his gut was telling him he shouldn’t be afraid.
Walter opened the kitchen door. “Who’s up for some burgers?” he said to those in the other room. He turned back to Jesse. “Ready?”
Together, they brought the plates out and set them on the table. Cory picked his up and began to eat.
“Not yet, son,” Walter said in a way that made Cory stop and put his burger down.
Once they had all been served, Walter returned, shedding his apron on a table along the way. He sat at the head of the table. He bowed his head, and clasped his hands before him, elbows propped up on the slick aluminum surface.
“Heavenly Father,” Walter began. He stopped to clear his throat. Jesse checked the others. They all seemed a bit shocked by this. Cory was almost glowering. Kate had her head bent, as did Eve, both ready for the meal prayer. Jesse watched Andrea as she frowned at Cory and indicated he should lower his head, so Jesse did the same. It was something he hadn’t done in many years, something he hadn’t ever considered doing at all any longer. God had abandoned him, so he had abandoned God.
Walter continued, “Heavenly Father, be present at our table. Be here and everywhere adored. Bless us with your mercy and grant that we may feast in fellowship with thee.”
“Amen,” Eve said. Jesse mouthed it, but couldn’t say it.
“You believe in that crap?” Cory asked. “You think your god is listening to you?”
“Cory!” Eve snapped.
“Well, do you?”
Walter ignored the outburst. Jesse wanted to slap the shit out of Cory. He opened his mouth to start an apology for him, but was interrupted when Walter held a hand up. Walter paused a few seconds then took a napkin from the table and unfolded it and set it in his lap. He looked at the food on the table, and then he looked at everyone seated before him.
“How could I not believe in God?” he said. He closed his eyes and looked skyward. “How could I not?” he repeated in a whisper.
Jesse nodded. While he’d long come to terms with his own disbelief, he wasn’t about to challenge this man’s belief. And at that moment, he kne
w where the burger meat had come from.
He picked up his burger, squished his fingers into the buns, and took a big bite.
It tasted glorious.
-20-
THE VIRUS
CORY WAS GROWING tired of watching everyone eat. How could they eat when they were all so close? They would be able to end the raptor menace once and for all. While he was enjoying eating something he had not tasted in many years, he wanted to taste something else—the agonizing death of the raptors.
He put his burger down and wiped his mouth, feigning calm.
“So where is it?” he asked.
Walter stopped chewing. “Where is what?”
“You know.”
“No, son, I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I got here about a year ago. Before that, I was wandering this fine country of ours after my wife passed away and—”
“So where is it?” Cory asked again.
Walter looked at Jesse, Eve, then Andrea. “I have no idea what you are looking for, son.”
“You do. There is no way you found this place and moved in without knowing where it is.”
Walter nodded, saying nothing.
“This is one of the bunkers,” Cory said. “Twelve were built in total.”
“Twelve you say? Just like apostles of Jesus?”
Cory stopped himself from saying more. He had never realized that connection before. Twelve? Why would he go there? So there was some significance to the number twelve. Juan LaPaz had said something about that once before, but he’d never really explained why. He’d mentioned the Book of Luke when discussing the various bunkers.
“Yes,” Cory said, “like the apostles. Like Luke.”
Water eyed him for a long second. “Luke wasn’t an apostle, son.”
Cory could swear that he was, but he didn’t know much about the Bible, only that he despised anyone who believed in it.
“What’s Luke 911 mean, then?” Cory asked. He remembered the numbers. Juan LaPaz had once mentioned it in connection with the bunkers. Cory was not sure how that related, but it seemed important to the professor at the time and seemed even more important now.
Righteous Apostate: Raptor Apocalypse Book 3 Page 14