Carlie Simmons (Book 1): Until Morning Comes

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Carlie Simmons (Book 1): Until Morning Comes Page 11

by Sawyer, JT


  “This is also where Rory and I apprehended that bandido, El Gato Blanco, who was running dope through southern Tucson a few years back. That bastard moved like a fucking cheetah, and it was only this quicksand that slowed him down long enough for us to catch him.”

  “That’s right, I remember now—’cause I had just met you then on my way back from the range. You were walking up the road with that guy still in cuffs. You really smelled bad—that was not a good first impression.”

  “I thought you liked dirty guys,” Shane said. Carlie knew him enough to know that his humor was an attempt at trying not to let his anguish over his friend’s death show.

  “Shane, I’m sorry about Rory. I know you two were good friends.”

  “Yeah, me too…me too. He was a helluva guy to have watching your six.”

  Carlie’s face softened and she realized how tense she had been. She felt a tiny thread of calm slip over her as the sunlight washed over her face. Then she saw Jared stagger over.

  “I’m feeling a little like Tom Hanks in Castaway, only there ain’t no beach with coconuts,” he said, flicking a clump of silt off his soggy leather daypack. “Now what? You gonna lead us through the desert to the Promised Land?” he said, looking at Shane and then over to Carlie.

  Carlie ignored him and pulled out her pistol to inspect it. She moved forward a few feet, out of the muck. “Everyone regroup over here by the embankment so we can do a headcount and go over a plan.”

  As she walked, she deftly removed the slide of the Sig pistol and began blowing the crud out of the interior. She reached inside her vest and pulled out a piece of gauze from her trauma kit and tore open the package. Then Carlie began slowly flicking out the grit and field cleaning the rest of the pistol. Shane was performing the same task as they walked along.

  When Carlie arrived at the cement incline that comprised the embankment, she lay the pistol down and finished the rest of the field expedient cleaning. As the others gathered around, she quickly emptied her remaining magazines of bullets and dried them, then restored everything assembly-line fashion and with the finesse of a skilled pit-crew worker tackling a race car.

  She looked up into a crowd of scared faces veneered with grime. “These twenty-four hours probably aren’t what you all had planned out when you woke up yesterday but you’ve made it this far because you’ve been resourceful. We need to find a defensible spot where we can hole up for a while until a helicopter can get in to rescue us.”

  “Nice speech, Sarah Connor, but in case you haven’t noticed we’re stuck out in the open with no weapons except our little pistolas,” said Jared. “I say we head up to the road, shanghai some vehicles, and get the hell out of here.”

  Bird Beak and Floor Mop chimed in support of Jared and he arched his shoulders back.

  “Look, we appreciate what you did for us back there but we ain’t in your posse,” Jared said, turning to the others behind him. “If you want to come with me and snag a truck, we’ll be on our way. If not then I bid you farewell,” he said, tilting his chin up.

  “Hold up, tough guy,” said Shane, who had just slapped a clean magazine back into his pistol. “You wanna go, then go, but before the others head off with you, maybe you should tell them what they’re in for, taking a road trip with a felon.” He glanced down at Jared’s wrist. “Go on—show ’em that stainless-steel bracelet you got from when you escaped from the U.S. Marshals—I mean, that’s your story, isn’t it?”

  Jared narrowed his eyes at Shane and then looked around at the others staring at him as he tried to retract his wrist into his soggy shirt sleeve. Then his face grew taut as the color flushed in his cheeks. “Time for your interrogation later, Hoss—we got company,” he said, pointing behind Shane and the others.

  “Yeah, I’m not buying the look-over-the-shoulder-at-the-approaching-zombie routine, Jared.”

  “No—he’s right,” shouted Tex-Mex. “Those things are coming.”

  “Aw, shit—didn’t we just leave this party?” said Shane, turning to see a group of straggling creatures moving through the open desert in the distance.

  Chapter 38

  “Are you sure you’re alright?” said President Huntington into the radio receiver.

  “Yes, just a few scrapes but I’ll be fine,” said Eliza, who was sitting under the shade of the staircase at the DEA’s tactical-ops center in downtown Tucson.

  “Two army helicopters will be arriving at your location shortly and then you’ll be flown to a facility in New Mexico.”

  “What about the others? Carlie—the Secret Service agent who was with me—and her DEA friends? They are still stuck at the university.”

  “Phillip informed me of what happened and of Agent Simmons’ conduct in leaving you. There’s nothing I can do at this point. She made her decision.”

  “She left after I was safely on board the helicopter. If it wasn’t for her, I would have died last night. She only went back for her friends after my safety was assured.”

  “I know you feel a sense of gratitude for what she did but your safe return is my main concern right now. If we had assets to spare then I would have more options, but she is on her own. Now please put Agent Matias back on the line so we can discuss your departure.”

  Eliza was about to speak when she was interrupted by Phillip, who grabbed the radio from her. Phillip handed it over to Matias, who reluctantly accepted it. Matias walked away while speaking with the president’s advisor about the extraction plan.

  “What the hell are you doing, Phillip?” said Eliza, standing up beside the metal desk. “You’re not in charge here.”

  “Actually I am, since Carlie decided to forego her sworn duties. Plus I hold a higher federal post than Matias.”

  “If you had any balls, you would have stayed behind to help her instead of coming back here. I didn’t see you even lift a finger when she decided to stay and fight.”

  “That’s because I know what my duties are, Ms. Huntington. As for Agent Simmons, she’s finished in the Secret Service.”

  Eliza folded her arms. “Hello—the world is screwed, in case you hadn’t noticed. Do you think that matters anymore?”

  “It will to men like your father, trust me.”

  Matias came back and placed the radio on the desk. “The army helos will be here in ninety minutes and then you can be on your way, Ms. Huntington.”

  “It’s Eliza—can we skip all these absurd formalities? I’m just like anyone else. I always have been,” she said, leaning back against the wall. “And what about you, Matias, aren’t you coming with us?”

  “I’ll let you know when the time comes,” he said, grabbing a pair of binoculars off a shelf. “Right now, I’m going back up top to see if I can spot any of the others on the streets. I lost radio contact with Shane, so who knows where they are right now.”

  Chapter 39

  As more saggy-faced creatures began emerging from the surrounding desert, Carlie motioned to the others to climb out of the drainage to the two-lane highway.

  “Looks like you get your wish after all,” said Carlie to Jared, who was scrambling up the cement incline next to her.

  “If I had my wish, I’d like to see you out of that guy suit and in a nice red floral-print dress. You would look mighty fine.”

  “Pff,” Carlie sputtered out, not sure if she had just been complimented or objectified.

  The college students along with Jared, Carlie, and Shane sprinted up the concrete and over the guardrail. “Everybody fan out and look for a few vehicles that look functional and have keys inside,” said Carlie.

  Each person peered into the scattered assemblage of abandoned vehicles that peppered the half-mile of highway. Most of the cars and trucks were mangled from collisions while others had their windows smashed out while serpentine streaks of blood colored the nearby pavement. Carlie kept looking over her shoulder at the incoming group of creatures beelining for their location. What had started out as a dozen stragglers was now a group of
over forty disheveled individuals struggling through the soupy mess of sand and water below.

  Carlie turned and saw Jared trotting down the road towards a large pastry truck and watched him cautiously slide his head inside the open door.

  Shane shouted from behind her. “We’ve got movement now on the other side of the highway,” he said, pointing to the right, where a mass of fifty or so creatures were bounding towards them.

  “We’re out of time,” Carlie whispered to herself as she glanced inside a red Subaru. She found the keys still intact and jumped into the driver’s seat. She began cranking on the ignition but it only sputtered. She kept furiously slamming the key forward while grinding her teeth. Then she heard the exhilarating roar of an engine and turned to see the pastry truck a hundred yards away beginning to move. Jared was inside and pulling forward, away from the others.

  “Damn that filthy snake,” she said, hopping out of the Subaru and running down the blacktop. Creatures were scrambling up the embankments in greater numbers. As one crested the guardrail to her left, Carlie slowed momentarily to strike it in the head with the butt of her pistol, sending it careening backwards into the muck below.

  “Let’s go. Everyone run this way,” said Shane, who had fallen in behind Carlie. The rest of the students began their circuitous route through the tangle of vehicles as the highway began filling with creatures pouring in from the south.

  They were sprinting towards the pastry truck, which was smashing vehicles out of its way along the bridge ahead when they saw it stop and the reverse lights go on. The truck sped backwards, quickly coming to a halt before an overturned gold Jeep. The rear double doors flung open as Jared stood with a nervous grin, waving people to him.

  “Hurry…hurry,” he said, grabbing arms and yanking people onto the heaps of smashed donuts and lemon pies littering the floor.

  Carlie stopped by the rear bumper as she yelled at the last stragglers moving along the blacktop. She and Shane began selectively taking headshots at the creatures who were gaining ground. “I’ve only got the rounds in this one magazine and then I’m dry,” she shouted.

  “Yeah, me too, and I’d rather not stick around to practice my Thai kickboxing skills.”

  As Floor Mop was running frantically to catch up he stepped on a piece of jagged metal with his bare foot and tottered over. He was quickly overtaken from all sides by six creatures, which pulled his limbs off and began fighting over the appendages.

  As Amy leapt onto the rear of the truck, Carlie tapped Shane on the shoulder. “Let’s go,” she said as they bolted for the slowly moving truck which Jared had begun driving forward, stopping for a moment to flick a piece of apple pie from his Nikes.

  They reached up into the waiting hands of students and climbed on board the slippery mess of pulverized fruit pies, then slammed the doors. Carlie gulped down several breaths and peered out the rear window. She grabbed onto the side of a metal shelf as the truck increased its speed. The bobbing heads of their pursuers on the road behind them faded into the tawny backdrop of sand dunes.

  Carlie holstered her pistol and did a quick headcount. “Looks like everybody else made it, amazingly enough.”

  Shane was busy wiping the sticky conglomeration of apple and cherry pie off his fingers while the two college guys began tearing into boxes of doughnuts. Carlie made her way forward, stepping over the clump of weary students who were covered in a medley of sweat and pie crust until she made her way to the passenger’s seat.

  Jared glanced over at her. “Not too shabby a rescue, eh? Now, it’s me saving your ass.”

  Carlie smirked. “For a second there, I thought you were gonna leave us back there.”

  “Then who would help me eat all these goodies in back,” he said, weaving past an overturned hay truck with its bales spread like dominoes along the road.

  “So, you have a conscience after all.”

  “Look, I don’t give a packrat’s ass what you or Sheriff Billy Bob think of me. I just want to get out of this godforsaken state of cactus-eaters and get back home.”

  “For right now, just keep driving east. We’ve got enough fuel to make it to the town of Benson and hopefully that ranching community hasn’t been hit too hard by all this.”

  “Aye, aye, el Capitan.”

  “And nice job on locating a vehicle with the keys still intact,” she said, looking down at the empty ignition switch, where two red and blue wires were coiled together.

  Jared scratched his scruffy chin. “Yeah, well, we all have our hidden talents.”

  Chapter 40

  “The helos from New Mexico will be here in a few minutes,” said Matias, whose face looked strained. He grabbed his rifle off the table and walked to the stairs. “We need to get up to the roof now.”

  Nadine and David were stuffing water bottles into their packs while the professor had just finished an MRE packet.

  “And what about Carlie and your friends? Aren’t you going to go back for them?” said Eliza as she and the others followed.

  “Their heat signatures disappeared off my computer so either they went further underground or they…” He paused, rubbing the whiskers on his chin as he continued walking up the steps. “My helo is nearly out of fuel and any trip on the streets below would be suicide. I don’t plan on letting my friends’ sacrifice to save you, if that’s what it becomes, be in vain.”

  “They all knew the price for their actions,” Phillip quickly interjected. “That fellow Shane and his subordinate seemed more than capable of handling whatever was thrown at them. From what I know of Carlie, her training is exemplary—it’s only her professional conduct that is questionable. We can only wish them the best.”

  “I didn’t see you itching to hop off the helicopter and rush to save the others,” said Nadine.

  “You know, as far as I recall, you and your friend only have a ticket out of here because you both happened to be in the right place at the right time,” said Phillip.

  “No, we are here because of Carlie and the others, you pompous ass,” she said, swinging her hands down by her sides. “What role you play other than being a walking ad for a men’s fashion magazine is beyond me.”

  “There’s little point in arguing,” said Matias, who kept peering up the stairs to make sure the route was clear. “The way I see it, the human world just got a whole lot smaller and we’re going to have to work together like never before.”

  As they crested the last floor, Matias scanned the rooftop through the small window on the exit door. “There they are, one minute out,” he said, opening the door as the two army helicopters came into view.

  They stepped out into the blast furnace of heat and searing sunlight. Matias donned the sunglasses dangling off his neck and kept his M4 in a low-ready position, scanning to the right and left. A CH-47 Chinook landed while the AH-6 Little Bird attack helicopter remained in the air for cover support.

  The massive Chinook set down twenty yards from the stairwell. Two armed soldiers jumped out from either side of the lead helo and shuffled forward in a low crouch, waving to the group to move up.

  Phillip grabbed Eliza’s arm and pulled on her sleeve but she pushed his hand way, glaring at him. As they entered the helo, Eliza, the professor and Phillip sat at the rear and Matias, Nadine, and David climbed aboard near the front.

  Matias gave the thumbs-up to the pilot then leaned forward to introduce himself. “That’s it. There are only six of us, though I’d like it if you could swing to the southeast a mile from here over the university. Some of my fellow operators remained behind there trying to rescue a group of students.”

  The stocky pilot leaned back, yelling above the rotor wash. “Sorry, but my orders are clear—get the girl and go.”

  “It’s a twenty-second detour, Chief. You can arc that way momentarily and then sweep north without violating your mission parameters.”

  Phillip leaned forward, pushing his way past Matias. “Chief, I’m the ranking agent here, associated with th
e Secret Service. You said you have your orders. I would advise you to follow them and get Ms. Huntington to safety.”

  The pilot glanced at the other helo and gave the hand signal to depart, then he swung back to Matias with a frown. “You know how this works, Agent Matias,” the chief said with a nod, then looked back at Phillip with a glare.

  The helos lifted off and headed north. Matias sank into his seat and felt the blood rush out of his face. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his dusty pants and interlacing his fingers while slightly lowering his head. He looked up at Eliza, who was staring out the window. Matias thought of how he and his entire team had been enjoying cold beers together twenty-four hours earlier. He raised his head and looked out at the jagged expanse of mountains north towards Phoenix, wondering if his wife and kids were safe. If they had only been closer he may have had a chance at making it back to them.

  As these images ran through his head, the faint discussion between the co-pilot and the chief entered his consciousness. Matias tilted his head back slightly to hear the conversation.

  “Sir, I’ve got a faint GPS tracking beacon coming in on the radar about eight miles to the southeast,” said the thin man.

  “What could that be?” said the chief. “We don’t have any ground elements in place down there.”

  “It looks like one signal. The pace indicates it’s in a moving vehicle.”

  The chief leaned back. “Agent Matias, could that be one of your guys down below?”

  “Negative, none of us had personal location beacons on us…” He paused, squinting at the blip on the radar screen and out to the barren desert to the right. He shot a glance back at Phillip, who quickly averted his eyes and folded his arms in front of his chest.

  “But Carlie must,” Matias said, with his jaw clenched. “I remember her saying that some Secret Service agents have sub-dermal tracking devices,” he said again, studying Phillip’s rigid facial features and dawdling eyes.

 

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