We were about twelve miles away from camp when we reached the first ridge. This was a spot we regularly came to on our patrols. It wasn’t particularly special other than it had a large clearing which gave us a vantage point of the entire area for miles and miles. We could see the ridgeline to Clear Lake just south of us and on a clear day you could almost see San Pablo and San Francisco Bay. It was decided long ago that no one would ever travel that far and especially into the bigger cities. The city is where the danger lies. It was very easy to find yourself cornered by scavengers or the infected.
The terrain and area we covered was usually a twenty-five-mile radius extending out from the camp. Not only were we scouting for marauding bands of scavengers and infected, we were on the lookout for bears, mountain lions, and any other danger that might present itself to the camp. It has been quiet the last couple of years and as of late, we have used this time to hunt for food to bring back to the camp. California was standing at the back of the Jeep, putting together his rifle for exactly that. Deer roamed these woods pretty regularly and from this vantage point it would make it pretty easy to spot one.
I stood near the edge of the clearing with a pair of binoculars scanning the area. The rain had stopped, and it was now a little windy out, but still pretty foggy toward San Francisco which meant I couldn’t see the bay yet, even with the wind. I dropped the binoculars for a second as California headed passed me, rifle in hand, into the trees.
“I don’t know how he does it,” Charlie said.
He was standing in the back of the Jeep. He had his knife in his hand and was holding it up to his cheek. “I mean, I didn’t even like shaving with a sharp razor and shaving cream.” He attempted to shave a little bit of his short beard with the knife. “I can’t do it.”
“Well, when we get back to camp perhaps your daddy can teach you how to shave,” Declan said.
Charlie kicked the back of Declan’s chair. “Shut up.”
I returned my gaze back to the ridgeline, taking in its beauty as they playfully bickered behind me.
After it got quiet again, I turned for moment back at the rest of the team. Declan and Johnny were staring off into the void while Charlie stood on the back seat, grasping the M-60 and slowly scanning the surrounding area with his eyes. I went to bring the binoculars back to my face when a single feather laded on the top of my hand. I gazed up into the sky. No birds. Looking back down, I watched as the feather fell to the ground.
As I stood there watching the feather, several others began to fall to the ground around it. The feathers fell slowly to the ground, some stems sticking into the dirt. Some black, some brown, others white. It took me a while to realize what I was looking at, and even longer to realize its implications.
I quickly turned to the Jeep and gave a quick whistle to get the team’s attention. They were confused by the falling feathers but looked up at me when I called. I swung my finger around in the air quickly giving them the signal to pack it up and be alert. Placing the binoculars back in my tactical vest I headed into the trees after California.
It was even quieter in the trees than out in the clearing. I moved slowly so as not to spook California. When I finally spotted his location, I could see he was propped up against a tree, peering through his rifle scope. Gently, I placed my hand on his shoulder to get his attention. He turned.
“What is it?” he asked.
I held up a feather I had picked up from the ground. He looked at it for a moment before his eyes went wide. He got up without a second thought and we headed back toward the Jeep.
The ground of the clearing was completely covered in feathers when we got back.
“What’s going on, Captain?” Johnny asked with a distressed tone.
I held up my hand to quiet him so I could listen. Everyone stood completely still while I listened for the sound I hoped I would never have to hear again.
In a split instant Charlie was swinging his M-60 towards me. I heard the feathers on the ground crunch together just as Charlie let loose on the tree line with his M-60. California and I rolled to the ground and started crawling away. Bullets flying over our heads, tearing the tree line to bits.
When the shooting finally stopped the feathers covering the ground were now joined by hundreds of bullet shells. I turned back around and saw what had come through the trees. Ten bodies strewn about. Charlie hadn’t left much, but I could tell by their tattered clothes and discolored flesh that they were infected.
I got to my feet then helped California up. “Secure the area,” I said to everyone.
Declan and Johnny got out of the Jeep, automatic rifles in hand, and headed to the opposite tree line. Charlie continued to scan the area while California and I headed toward the infected bodies lying on the ground.
I had my rifle pointed forward just in case there were any more surprises in store. California was stuck with his sniper rifle.
As we crept closer, I noticed the feathers had stopped falling. With infected bodies you couldn’t check to see if they were breathing, but Charlie had done his job by removing their heads, and then some with most of them. Removing the head was the only way to make sure they weren’t getting back up again.
“That was quite a lot of feathers for only ten of them,” California said.
He was right. Normally when feathers fall in these quantities you would be faced with a horde of them. Only ten of them was strange. Either we were in for a bigger fight or something was completely wrong.
I knelt down next to one of the bodies, one that was left mostly intact. Its clothes weren’t as tattered as the rest. In fact, they appeared just a little dirty, like he had spent a day working in the garage as opposed to spending months outside in the elements with no protection. It was wearing pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. I used my rifle barrel to lift up the shirt a little bit. What was below was even more perplexing. Its skin looked fresh, like it had only recently turned. Even though it had been years since we had seen an infected person every single one that we had encountered looked like it had been rotting for years. You could smell them before they even came within a mile of you.
“You see this?” I asked California.
I turned my head and he nodded. “When was the last time you saw a fresh one?” he asked.
“Long time,” I said.
These were fresh. All of them. No stench, at least from them.
Smoke began to fill my nostrils, but I could not locate the source.
“What is it, Cap?” California asked.
“Smoke,” I said.
“Where’s it coming from?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
I could hear him sniffing the air like some Native American tracker. He turned and was now facing the Jeep again.
“It’s coming from the north,” he said.
“Toward camp?” I asked. He just looked at me.
“Captain,” Declan yelled from the clearing.
We both ran toward the Jeep.
“Look,” Declan said, pointing off into the distance.
I turned and saw what he was pointing at. Directly east of us was a large plum of black smoke billowing into the sky. Right where the camp was located.
Chapter 2
Declan piloted the Jeep through the trees like a professional race car driver. Branches slapped the windshield and broke away. I had one hand firmly gripping the door roll bar and the other clamped to the grab bar in front of me. I kept waiting for the Jeep to slide and wrap itself around a tree.
I tried desperately to raise anyone at the camp over the radio.
“Base camp, base camp, this is HK-One. Come in. Over,” I said into the radio. There was no response, only static. I tried again. “Base camp, this is HK-One. Do you read me? Over.” Again, there was no response.
Twelve miles may not seem like much, but with the current state of the highway system we had to take back roads back to the camp, and when I say roads, I mean it in the loosest of terms. It was a long road back any
way, it felt even longer when your heart was racing expecting the worse, praying for the best.
The smell of smoke was getting more intense and there was a haze that started to build up around us as we got closer.
Normally you would see the hustle and bustle of everyday life. People attending the gardens and livestock. Children playing along the waterfront. As the Jeep crested the dirt road leading up to the gate, we saw or heard none of that.
As we approached the camp our visibility grew limited from the thick smoke. Declan eventually had to let up on the gas.
The guard towers appeared out of the black smoke much like they did earlier. Except now they were crippled and leaning precariously, silhouetted by the fire behind them.
The gate was open and bent over like a giant had crushed it with its hand. I could see one of the guards from earlier draped over the top, blood flowed from the bullet holes in his back and ran onto the gate.
“Eyes peeled, guys,” I said, bringing my rifle up front.
Smoke was coming from almost every building. It was so thick that we couldn’t see across the camp.
“What the hell happened?” Johnny said.
It was a thought echoed by us all, but none of us answered. Declan stopped the Jeep just inside the gate. Whoever was behind this could still be inside the camp. Charlie went to run out of the Jeep, I reached across and grabbed him by a loop in his vest.
“Let me go,” he said.
“Calm down,” I said. “I need you here. You go hard charging into there, and you’ll end up right alongside them.” I let him go and he stayed put. I turned around to look at every one. “That goes for everyone.”
We all got out with our weapons ready.
“Go hot,” I said. “Watch your six and stay close.”
I made a quick assessment of the camp. “Full sweep left.” I gestured toward the north side of the camp and we quietly moved into the smoke.
The camp was eerily quiet. We could hear a few fires smoldering. A small breeze blew through the camp and moved the smoke around us. We were watching for anything that might still be a threat. We also had to keep an eye out for survivors, but I think we all had a feeling that we weren’t going to find anyone. Blood stained the dirt under our shoes. In some places it was so thick that it turned to a red mud. You could almost smell the carnage. The camp was completely destroyed.
We came up to the bridge that crossed the river and the water was completely red. Just on the other side of the bridge Charlie took off running.
“Charlie,” I yelled, to no avail.
“Captain?” Johnny said, seeking direction.
“Follow him,” I said. “But stay together.”
Slowly we made our way through the smoke. A short distance away a cabin began to materialize. It was Charlie’s cabin. He was inside. We couldn’t see him, but we knew.
“Charlie?” I called. There was no answer.
Through the dense smoke, and silhouetted by the flames behind, a figure made its way toward us. We all raised our weapons, ready to drop whatever it was. Then I recognized the mountain walking toward us, it was Charlie.
“At ease,” I said to the team, who then lowered their weapons.
It may have been Charlie physically, but I could tell something was different. What he found in that house changed him. It was about to become personal.
Johnny walked up to his brother and they hugged. It was something I had never seen between those two before. I noticed Charlie had a watch in his hand. I recognized it as the watch he gave his son. He strapped it to his wrist.
Charlie pulled back the slide on his rifle, making sure there was a round loaded and started to walk off into the smoke.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
He paused for a moment. “I’m going to get these fuckers,” he responded.
“No, you are not.”
“Fuck you,” he said and continued to walk away.
“Stop right there, Lieutenant.”
He stopped. Everyone watched the tense moment unfold in silence.
I walked up to him and got right in his face. I spoke to him more as a human being than his commanding officer.
“I understand what you’re going through right now,” I said.
“No, you don’t,” he shot back.
“Shut up,” I told him. “I do. We all do, but if you walk out there alone, you will die, and these assholes will walk away like nothing happened.”
He didn’t say anything. I could tell he understood what I was saying.
“If you want to get these guys, fine, I will let you pull the trigger on every last one of them. But we do it together. Understood?”
Again, he was silent.
“Understood?” I asked again.
“Yes, sir,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Good,” I said to him and then spoke to the team. “We check the camp for survivors first. Then we move. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” they all said.
It took about an hour to make our rounds of the camp. We didn’t find any survivors, or any aggressors.
Declan stepped in front of me. “What the fuck is going on here, Cap?”
I looked him straight in the eyes. “I don’t know.”
“There are shell casings everywhere and there are people with their throats torn out. You ever seen a scavenger tear someone’s throat out?”
Declan was right. Something wasn’t right here. There was evidence of both scavengers and infected running through here, but infected people will attack anyone, so it didn’t make sense that they were both here.
“California,” I called. He turned and looked at me. “See if you can find which way they went. Maybe we can catch them before it’s too late.” He nodded and took off into the smoke. “The rest of you scour the camp and collect whatever useful item that we can carry.”
The sun was starting to set now. The fires still burning in the camp were slowly replacing the sun as the source of light. The blood-soaked ground now looked like it was covered in oil.
It was my duty to keep these men alive now.
Chapter 3
California had picked up their trail, that led south, just outside of camp. We had yet to see them, but it led us right to San Francisco.
Nothing could have really prepared us for what we were going to see once we got to San Francisco. Sure, our world was now a wasteland, we had seen in vivid detail everything those post-apocalyptic movies had predicted, but this was different. Most cities just seemed abandoned, San Francisco was destroyed.
We had approached directly from the north, through Napa and Vallejo, just outside the city limits. California had been tracking, what we had assumed was a scavenger vehicle since we left, although we had yet to spot it yet.
Even from this far we could see the destruction. A fire had torn through half of the city. Everything from Golden Gate Park to Daly City had been gutted. The only thing remaining were the blackened skeletons of apartment buildings, schools, malls, and office buildings. It made the great fire look like a campfire.
Even the Golden Gate Bridge had been partially destroyed. It looked like it had been blown apart by explosives, and I’m guessing the blast caused the fire. The only question was what were they trying to keep out, or in?
Oakland was mostly untouched. A few older buildings had collapsed, but for the most part it resembled a ghost town. Even the streets were void of cars. It made travel to the Oakland Bridge pretty smooth sailing, until we got to the bridge and located all the missing cars.
The bridge was a parking lot. Some unseen incident on the other side of the bridge had caused a massive blockage, on both levels, most people had fled their cars, leaving their doors open and their belongings behind.
“What do we do now?” Johnny said.
I looked ahead at our blocked path, pondering the same question.
“Get as close as you can to the bridge,” Charlie said.
“What?” Declan asked. He was just
as confused as I was.
“I have an idea. Get us close.”
With the help of the Jeep’s four-wheel drive we were able to take a frontage road almost directly up to the beginning of the bridge.
Declan stopped the Jeep. “Ok, what’s your bright idea?” he said.
“California, Johnny, you’re with me,” Charlie said.
The three of them got out and headed for the front of the Jeep.
I got out and headed toward the bay. I pulled out the binoculars and peered across to San Francisco. The damage was worse up close, and it would be even worse once we actually got across the bridge. I could only imagine what was going through Declan’s mind right now. I was surveying the city when I saw a familiar smokestack moving through the skeletal remains of buildings.
“Whatever you have in mind, I suggest we hurry,” I said.
The team looked up from what they were doing. Even without the binoculars you could see the smoke trail.
“How did they get over there so fast?” Declan said.
“I don’t know,” I said. “But let’s hope we don’t lose them.”
“Come on, guys,” Charlie said and headed back to the Jeep. “The sooner we get over there, the sooner we can turn those assholes into Swiss cheese.”
“Swiss cheese?” Declan asked.
Charlie glared at him then went directly to the winch mounted on the front of the Jeep and started unspooling it. He handed the hook to California who wrapped the wire up and around the guard rail of the bridge then attached it to the bumper of the first car blocking our path.
“Good to go,” California said.
“Put it in reverse,” Charlie said to Declan.
Wanderer (Book 2): Hunters Page 2