by Patton, Dirk
I felt myself surrendering as a warm embrace descended over me. It was comforting at first and I started to welcome it with open arms. Relished an urge to find someone, anyone, and rend their bodies and break their bones. To smell their blood. To raise their flesh to my mouth and…
A silent movie began playing in my head. In an instant, I relived a year of death and violence and revulsion washed through me so intensely I sank to my knees in the middle of the street and heaved until there was nothing left in my stomach.
Panting, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and slowly looked around. I was surrounded by hundreds of dead infected and their blood was soaking into my pants. Climbing slowly to my feet, I looked up at the sky. Simply stared at the stars for a few minutes, not really seeing them but comforted by their cold light.
With a deep, shuddering breath, I forced my attention back to the world around me. Shook my head to clear it as I focused on the task at hand. Find a vehicle that could get me back to Lucas’s compound ahead of the herd of infected.
I was startled at the thought. Had completely forgotten the danger that was bearing down on everyone who was depending on me. Gritting my teeth so hard it felt as if they would crack, I blew out a deep breath of air and turned a fast circle to survey what was available.
There were plenty of abandoned vehicles that would get me to Lucas’s, but they were all too small to be of any use when I arrived. I needed something that could take everyone aboard.
I stopped turning, my eyes focused on a sign over a block away. Stared at it for a second before hurrying in that direction. It was a tour company that advertised outback adventures.
Reaching the storefront, I strode to the door and without breaking stride slammed it open with my shoulder. The interior was cramped and a little dirty, but I didn’t care. A sign on the back wall directed tourists to a side door for the start of their tour and I blasted through another locked door as if it weren’t even there.
Stepping into a vehicle yard, I paused with a broad smile on my face. I’d found something far superior to a bus. Two US Army surplus, two and a half ton trucks sat silent. I didn’t waste any effort trying to figure out how the deuce and a halfs had gotten to Australia. All that mattered was they were here!
Both had been modified to be more appropriate for use as tour vehicles. Two rows of seats facing each side had been installed in the bed and were shaded by a canvas top. A set of steps had been attached to the back as most people can’t make the climb up into a vehicle with a floor that sits four-feet off the ground. And, wait for it… they’d been painted a shade of hot pink, just like a Mary Kay Cadillac.
But they were still six wheeled behemoths with six-wheel drive, and they’d handle the Australian outback as well as the design had been handling nearly every shithole in the world for the American military for over half a century. Not much was going to stop them, and as I hurried forward the thought occurred to me that they’d almost certainly been well maintained. The last thing a tour operator wants is to have one of their vehicles break down and strand a bunch of people in the middle of nowhere.
Pulling the cab door open on the closest truck, I climbed up and stuck my head inside. For obvious reasons, military vehicles don’t require a set of keys. They’re equipped with a simple switch, so anyone can start them at any time. Fortunately for me, the tour company hadn’t thought it was necessary to swap it out for a keyed ignition. Maybe because Coober Pedy was so small there wasn’t any worry over one of them being stolen. Or maybe they were just cheap.
For whatever reason, I didn’t waste any time in settling behind the giant steering wheel and kicking over the starter. It whined briefly, then the engine clattered to life with a roar and gout of thick, black smoke from the exhaust. The low whine of a turbocharger was barely audible, and I knew it would turn into a loud whistle as the engine revved.
The original gauges that would have come with the truck were gone and someone had wired a cluster of more modern ones onto and around the steering column. All I cared about were the pair of fuel gauges, one for each tank. Both were showing full.
About fucking time there was some good news, I thought to myself as I pushed in the clutch and shifted into gear.
The yard where the trucks were parked was shielded from the street by a tall, wooden fence with a matching gate. I could see a stout chain and lock securing the gate as I revved the engine and let the clutch out. The whistle quickly ran up the scale as the turbo spun faster and the truck lurched forward. I shifted gears as it battered the fence aside without so much as a shudder to be felt.
Keeping the speed on, I rolled through the gears, the note of the turbo whistle rising and falling with each shift. I made no effort to avoid the infected corpses. There was no way possible, even if I’d wanted to for some odd reason, and they were ground to pulp beneath the heavy tires.
I wasn’t sure of the best route out of town but didn’t spend any time searching. Instead, I turned onto the first road heading in the direction I wanted to go and nailed the throttle. When the pavement ended and the desert began, the truck bounced once over the water control berm that had been constructed and kept on going like nothing had happened.
Now that I was out in the open it was easy to spot the road that led toward Lucas’s. Blasting across the rocks and sand, I steered onto it and shifted into the highest gear. The road wasn’t smooth and the ride was horrible, but it was easy to keep the truck going in a straight line.
The speedometer had been attached to the top of the steering column with several turns of rusty bailing wire. I snorted a laugh when I noted the numbers went all the way up to 140. There’s not a deuce and a half in the world that could go that fast unless you pushed it off a cliff.
As expected, when I reached top speed the red needle was hovering around the mark for sixty miles an hour. The roar of the engine and pounding from the suspension was a constant assault as I drove, but I welcomed it gladly. It was a distraction, keeping me from dwelling on what was happening to me.
36
Viktoriya drove fast once they exited the underground garage. Captain Black twisted in his seat to peer through the SUV’s rear window as a pair of Honolulu police cars skidded to a stop at the curb in front of the building. He turned back front in time to see three more vehicles with flashing lights and blaring sirens approaching.
“Slow down,” he hissed, glancing at the speedometer. “You’re going to get us noticed.”
Viktoriya didn’t say anything but reduced pressure on the gas pedal. The needle swung back to the left as speed bled off, then the three police cruisers blasted past. The instant they were clear, Black turned to watch them screech to stops, effectively blocking the street that ran in front of her building. He didn’t like it when one of the cops who leapt out looked in their direction.
It wasn’t a quick glance, either. The man was definitely interested in the only vehicle that was moving in the immediate area of a reported shooting. Just before they were too far away for him to make out details, he was almost certain he saw the cop raise a radio to his mouth while still staring at the departing vehicle.
“Fuck,” he snapped. “We’ve been noticed.”
“Are you sure?” Viktoriya asked, eyes flicking between the mirror and the road to the front.
“Sure enough. And I think he put out a call, so the next cop that sees us will probably pull us over.”
She spoke a few words in her native tongue and he didn’t need her to translate to get their meaning.
“Turn here!”
He pointed at the mouth of an alley that cut between two tall buildings. Viktoriya jammed on the brakes, nearly losing control of the vehicle as she made the turn. Accelerating, she tightly gripped the wheel with both hands as walls on either side pressed in. To Black it felt as if they were about to scrape off the outside mirrors.
“Where were you going?” he asked, unable to take his eyes off the gradually narrowing path.
“I have a
fallback,” she said through gritted teeth. “A safe house. Just in case.”
“Who knows about it?”
“No one. Set it up myself and paid for it in cash.”
“How far?” he asked.
Before she could answer there was a horrendous squeal of grinding metal. A large dumpster wasn’t properly pushed into an alcove in the side of the building and she’d misjudged how much room there really was. The passenger side mirror was sheared off and Black reflexively leaned away from the point of impact.
“How far?” he asked again after recovering from the surprise of the collision.
“It is on the north shore,” she said, slowing to a crawl to squeeze around another dumpster.
“Won’t make it,” he said. “Not in this. We’ve gotta change vehicles.”
She shot him a look before accelerating. Ahead, they could see the alley open up as it intersected another wide boulevard. On one side, a parking lot surrounded by a chain link fence appeared and she jammed on the brakes. Tires squealed as she made the turn into a pay-to-park lot.
There was no attendant on duty, just a number painted on the asphalt within each lined slot. A ticket machine located near the exit collected payment and dispensed slips of paper that had to be placed in a visible location on the dash. Periodically, an employee of the company that owned the lot would drive through, checking for parked cars without a ticket displayed. Several prominently located signs warned that parking without paying would result in your vehicle being impounded.
Viktoriya ignored the machine and the signs, sliding to a stop between a minivan and another SUV. They leapt out, Black heading for the exit on foot. She stopped him with a shout and he turned to see her already working on unlocking the door of an older Chevy sedan with a dust covered windshield.
“Good choice,” he said, walking up and watching her work.
The age of the vehicle all but assured there wouldn’t be any sort of tracking system, and the layer of dust indicated it had been sitting there for at least several days. The odds of the owner returning in the next couple of hours were significantly lower than with several other vehicles with clean glass.
As Viktoriya worked, sirens echoed all around, the sound bouncing off the glass skyscrapers. It was impossible to tell where the police were or how many, but he had no doubt they were descending on her condo building in force. They had probably already reached her floor and with information from the neighbors would breach her door at any moment. Once that happened there were five bodies on the floor and all hell would truly break loose.
“Thought you were better at stealing cars than this,” he said, expecting to see a police car drive down the alley at any moment.
“If you cannot do better, shut up,” she said, her voice tight with concentration.
An instant later, the lock popped and she snatched the door open. It was a matter of ten seconds working with the wires beneath the dash and the engine started. She pressed a button and the trunk lid released. Hopping out, she grabbed Black’s arm and pulled him to the back of the car.
“Get in!”
“Are you fucking crazy? No way I’m letting you put me in there!”
“The police saw an SUV with a man and woman in it, driving away from the scene of a multiple homicide. Changing vehicles is not enough. We also need to change the image they will see. A woman by herself in a sedan will be unlikely to draw scrutiny. A couple together, will. Now get in the goddamn trunk or I will leave you standing here!”
They glared at each other for a few beats, both turning their heads when an especially loud siren blared. It sounded as if it were on the large street that was just around the corner.
“Fuck me,” Black grumbled, swinging a leg over the lip of the trunk.
Viktoriya gave him a hard shove and he tumbled into the cramped space.
“In your dreams,” she said as she slammed the lid.
Running around the side, she leapt behind the wheel and had the car in motion before the door was closed. Rolling the window down she could hear the constant echo of sirens and reminded herself to drive slow and careful. There would be enough attention drawn by any moving vehicle in the area. Speeding would make her stand out.
Exiting the parking lot, she couldn’t help but goose the throttle as the car thumped over a speed bump. It bounced hard and a small smile spread across her face when she heard the big Marine in the trunk bounce around like a pinball.
37
“Enjoyed that, didn’t you?” Black groused when Viktoriya opened the trunk.
She gave him a radiant smile for an answer as he climbed out onto an oil and grease stained concrete floor. They were in a dingy garage hardly large enough to hold the vehicle. A single, grime-smeared window admitted a small amount of light which didn’t do much more than allow him to see corners full of debris and spider webs.
“We’re secure?” he asked, slamming the lid.
“As we can be.”
She led him to a door covered with peeling paint that squealed in protest as she used her shoulder to push it open. Following, Black wasn’t surprised at the condition of the small house they entered. Worn and filthy linoleum on the floor, broken cabinets hanging precariously from walls that hadn’t seen a coat of paint since sometime before World War II. Water stained ceilings and a dripping kitchen faucet rounded things out.
“Charming,” he said as they moved into a cramped room at the front of the building.
He walked to a fly-specked window and peered through, seeing what looked like dense jungle but was only an overgrown yard. There was the hiss of tires on pavement, so he knew there was a road out there somewhere, but he couldn’t see it. That was a good thing because passing motorists wouldn’t be able to see them.
“It serves the purpose,” Viktoriya said, fanning herself in the oppressive humidity within the tiny home. “Open some windows so we do not suffocate in here.”
Black did as she asked, using the opportunity to take a tour of the house. Other than the kitchen and front room, there was only a bedroom that held a sagging queen-sized bed and one small bath with a chipped and rust stained tub. With the windows open, a cooling breeze moved through, bringing the smell of salt water with it.
“So, what now?” he asked, dropping onto a threadbare sofa.
“I do not know,” she said, putting her duffel on a table and opening it. “We are both apparently in trouble with our respective governments.”
Removing some clothing from the bag, she walked into the bathroom. Black stared at the closed door for a beat before getting to his feet and walking the house again. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just making sure he had a good feel for the layout in case he had to run or fight.
“The beach is three blocks that way.”
He hadn’t heard her come out of the bathroom and turned when she spoke, his eyes widening in surprise. She was now wearing a pair of low cut shorts that exposed her rock-hard stomach for several inches below her navel, and a bikini top. She smiled at him and shook her head.
“Do not get the wrong idea. I was playing a part earlier. I am not that girl!”
“Wasn’t getting any ideas,” Black said, slightly offended. “Just wasn’t expecting the new outfit.”
“It is too damn hot for anything else,” she said. “And we should be discussing our next move and not my choice in clothing.”
“We should, but I’m not a spy. I’m a Marine. I don’t have safe houses and networks and… and… whatever else you may have to help us.”
Viktoriya frowned when he finished speaking.
“This is all I have,” she said, extending her arms and looking around. “And I would not be in this situation if I had not decided to bring you information.”
“And why did you? No bullshit, this time. What’s your game?”
“Game? This is not a game! I am trying to stop anyone else from being killed. There has been too much death.”
“Then maybe you should have don
e something before the entire fucking planet was wiped out!”
Black was upset. Breathing hard. A storm cloud passed across her face and she stepped forward, eyes flashing.
“I am not SVR! I am not a general, nor the niece of an Admiral! There is nothing more I could do!”
“Right,” Black said derisively. “And now there is? You didn’t just find out about our high-level traitor yesterday. You probably recruited him, didn’t you? Stuck your tits out, batted your eyes and shook your ass and he was putty in your hands. Nothing you could do, my ass! Give me a fucking break!”
Viktoriya flushed brightly and her hand moved faster than Black was prepared for or even expecting. Her palm cleanly contacted the side of his face, delivering a slap that was powerful enough to turn his head to the side and sounded like a gunshot.
“You do not know me, and you do not know how I served my country!”
She seethed the words through clenched teeth before spinning and retreating to the bedroom. The door slammed hard enough to send a shower of dust drifting down from the ceiling. Black ignored it, staring in surprise at the door. Slowly he reached up and touched his stinging face.
Shaking his head, he reached for the front door knob. If they were only a few blocks from the beach, he should be able to find a pay phone. Maybe. If any still existed in the world of cell phones. He could also try to get a shop owner to let him use a phone. He wanted to call Jessica. Find out exactly what the hell was going on.
He’d had time to think while riding to the safe house in the trunk of the stolen car. It wasn’t terribly surprising that with Admiral Packard out of the way, his loyal staff were being rounded up.
He needed to make sure there were guards protecting Admiral Packard. While the likelihood of him ever returning to command was about zero, that didn’t mean the decision wouldn’t be made to eliminate any possibility, no matter how remote.