by Patton, Dirk
He was still cursing and rubbing his forehead when there was a sharp rap on the door. Irina leapt up and jerked it open, surprised to see Captain Moore.
“What danger to my boat, Captain?” he growled.
Irina hesitated a beat, having expected it to take several minutes for either the Captain or the XO to arrive. She hadn’t had time to fully think through what she wanted to say.
“Come in, Captain,” she said, stepping to the side. “I did not expect you so quickly.”
“I was in the control room,” he explained. “Don’t sleep much these days.”
“Nor do I,” Irina said. “And I am sorry to disturb you, and perhaps you have already considered this and taken appropriate steps. I do not mean to be out of line...”
“Just spit it out, Captain,” he said, irritation clearly written on his face.
Irina took a breath before continuing.
“The Russian submarine you were ordered to rendezvous with.”
She paused to give herself an extra moment to organize her thoughts.
“What about it?” Moore asked, a frown of concern replacing the look of impatience.
“When was that to occur?”
He held her eyes for a moment, trying to figure out where she was going. Finally, he glanced at his watch.
“It would have happened three hours ago. Why?”
“Because they will have realized by now that you are not going to show. Would you agree?”
“Possibly,” he said. “And possibly not. Arriving at a specific point in the ocean is not always as straightforward as showing up on time for an appointment on land.”
Irina nodded, accepting his comment.
“Regardless,” she said. “The Captain will eventually decide that we are not coming and will report to his superiors.”
“So? Let him.”
“Bear with me, Captain. Please. My point is this. You have arrived at the conclusion that your command structure has been compromised. This I know. Otherwise, you would have obeyed your orders and delivered us into Russian custody.
“Once the other Captain reports your failure to rendezvous, is it not probable that whoever the traitor at Pearl Harbor is will be notified? My concern is what will happen next.”
“Explain,” Moore said, finally interested in what she was saying.
“It is safe to assume this traitor is very highly placed, hence the ability to order you to turn us over. He, or she, will be uncomfortable when they learn you have ignored their order. They will be concerned about being discovered for who and what they really are. But they have an advantage.
“If they declare that the Key West is not responding to orders and the Captain has gone rogue... well, I know that Russia would spare no effort in locating and destroying one of our ships. Would this not also be a reasonable expectation from the American Navy?”
Moore stared at her for several long moments before responding.
“Thank you for your concern, Captain Vostov. I’ll take your comments under advisement.”
Spinning on his heel, the Captain left the room. Irina could only stare at the inside of the closed door with her mouth open in shock.
“Tell me,” Igor prompted her. He’d been unable to follow the conversation in English.
In the passageway outside, Lieutenant Commander Small and the Captain moved several yards away from the door.
“You heard?”
“Heard it all, Skipper,” the XO said with a nod. “I’m a little surprised she came up with this. She’s a very smart woman.”
“She is,” Moore agreed. “And unfortunately, XO, she’s also right.”
“I still can’t believe an American ship will fire on us.”
“I would if I were in their position. We’ve disobeyed orders and now we’re failing to surface and contact Pearl, despite repeated commands to do so. There’s no going back now, XO.”
“No, sir. There isn’t. But despite what we’re facing, I’m still convinced we’re doing the right thing. Doing what’s best for what’s left of us.”
“Let’s hope someone high up agrees with you, XO. Otherwise, we’ll be sharing a cell while they dust off an electric chair.”
44
“What did Joe say?” I asked when Rachel ended the call.
“Ever tell someone something and they can’t even speak once you’re done?”
“Used to happen with my parents all the time,” I said with a grin.
“Why does that not surprise me,” Rachel said, shaking her head. “Anyway, he confirmed what I knew. They hadn’t approached it from that angle. They’d been solely focused on the hormonal changes as a result of the infection, not the target of the virus.”
“Think it’ll do any good?”
“No idea,” she said. “But at least it’s a new direction for them.”
I was quiet for a few moments, focusing on my driving.
“Think they might actually cure it this time?”
My voice was husky with emotion as I remembered how high my hopes had been that what I’d thought was a cure would save Katie. It hadn’t, and it was too late for her.
“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Rachel said, picking up on my thoughts.
We fell silent for several miles.
“We’ve gotta try the storm,” I said five minutes later.
“Been in a few of these,” Lucas called from the back. “Can’t see shit and we’ve got no protection from the wind and dust.”
He was conscious, but still weak. Ziggy had helped him sit up and he was propped against her legs, looking at me in the mirror. And it freaked me out every time I saw his red eyes.
“Me too,” I said. “But it’s coming, whether we like it or not. And we need to get to Woomera. Our ride could already be waiting, and I’ve got no idea how long they’ll hang around. We miss it, there won’t be another.”
“What about that caravan park on the Stuart? Few K south of Coober Pedy.”
I looked at Smyth, but he was watching Lucas.
“What about it?” I asked.
“Shelter if we need it,” he said. “They also sell these rubberized canvas tarps we could use to seal up the truck. And they’ll have fuel, too. If we need it.”
“He’s right,” Lucas said. “We should go there.”
No one else had anything to offer and after a few moments they all turned to look at me, apparently waiting for me to make a decision.
“Alright,” I said, nodding at Smyth. “We’ll go there first. Once there, we’ll decide if we’re going to stay put and ride out the storm or start heading south.”
Smyth nodded then made his way to the front of the truck’s bed, sticking his head into the cab through the open space where a window would normally be.
“Know where you’re going?” he asked.
I had sped up and the roar of the unmuffled exhaust was so loud I could hardly hear him.
“Got infected a few miles northeast,” I shouted over the roar and rattle of the truck. “Guessing I should head due east and we’ll eventually run into the highway.”
“No good, mate,” he said. “Series of canyons in the way. Fill up with water in the rainy season.”
“They should be dry, right?”
“Aye, but that don’t matter. Not driving anything through ‘em. Sides are pretty much sheer. Gotta go north a bit or a long way south to get ‘round ‘em.”
“You could’ve mentioned that when you brought this place up,” I grumbled.
“Didn’t know there was infected in the way. Figured we’d just go ‘round the north end and there’d be no worries.”
“Okay, so how far south will we have to swing?”
Smyth was quiet for a few moments as he thought about my question.
“Fifty K. At least.”
“Then what?” I asked, afraid I already knew the answer.
“Back north to the caravan park.”
Goddamn it! If we had to swing that far south, we’d be meeting the le
ading edge of the storm before we could turn back. I was keeping a wary eye on the horizon in that direction and was amazed at the solid wall that was coming toward us. I had to agree with Hunt. This was something I’d never seen before either, and there was no way I could take all these unprotected people into its fury.
“We’re going north,” I said with finality, adjusting our course.
“Thought there was infected,” Smyth said.
“Unless we run into a herd, they’re not as dangerous as that storm. At least not as long as we have this truck.”
Smyth didn’t have anything to say to that and after a moment his head disappeared.
“You sure this is a good idea?” Rachel asked, shifting positions so she could put her arm around Mavis.
“I’m open to suggestions,” I said. “The herd is hanging around Lucas’s compound. Your guess as to why is as good as mine. Can’t go there. There’s nothing but open desert to the west and we can’t face the storm without some sort of protection.”
She didn’t respond and after a bit I looked over at her.
“Making sure I wasn’t just looking for a reason to fight some infected, weren’t you?”
“A little,” Rachel admitted. “Didn’t think so, but...”
I nodded, not liking the fact that doubts about my motives would enter her mind. But I had to acknowledge to myself that if the roles were reversed, I’d probably have been thinking the same thing. Reaching across the cab I gently squeezed her shoulder, then had to rub Dog’s head so he didn’t feel left out.
After that, we drove in silence. It was impossible to communicate without shouting and no one seemed to want to talk that badly.
The terrain was rough, forcing me to keep our speed down. It was hard to not press the accelerator pedal to the floor, especially when I’d glance to the south and see what was bearing down on us. But I’ve done a lot of off-road driving and have learned my lesson. Speed breaks vehicles. Even ones as tough as the deuce and a half.
Sure, there are racers with custom built suspensions that can easily handle just about anything mother nature lays out for them, but this truck wasn’t even remotely in that category. It was big and powerful and with six-wheel drive was extremely capable off-road. At low speeds.
It wasn’t long before we encountered the first group of females. Cresting a rise, I saw seven of them charging in from the left. The problem was that I was driving across a slope that had been eroded into a very good approximation of a washboard. Anything over ten miles an hour caused the truck to jitter sideways down the hill toward the beginning of one of the canyons Smyth had warned me about.
Dog saw them before he smelled them, climbing into Mavis’s lap. His lips curled us as he bared his fangs and growled. I ran my hand over his head to calm him and he went silent, but he didn’t move off of Mavis.
“Smyth, get your...”
Before I could finish my sentence, measured gun fire sounded from the back of the truck. Three rifles went into action, making quick work of the small group of females.
“That was easy,” Mavis said, hugging Dog and smiling.
“Don’t say that,” I said quickly.
“Why not?” she asked innocently.
Before I could answer we reached another crest. Hitting the brakes, I brought us to a stop. Dog growled loudly and I heard several curses from the men in back.
“That’s why.”
We were looking at a much larger group of females in the swale beyond the crest. Close to two hundred, I guessed. Not enough to be considered a herd, but more than enough to ruin our day. They were a few hundred yards out and in an instant were in motion, sprinting for us.
“Back up!” Mavis said, grabbing my arm in concern.
Blood was already pounding in my ears and I heard her as if she were at a great distance. I felt a wave of heat begin to wash over me, completely ignoring her as she tugged on my arm in fright.
“John!”
Rachel’s voice cut through the fog in my head and I nodded. Accelerating, I drove through a turn and gunned the truck up a slope that was parallel to the approaching infected. Smyth and his men began firing, taking out a few of the lead females, but because of the bouncing truck they missed more shots than they were making.
“Save your ammo!” I shouted, steering to avoid an outcropping of loose scree.
We still rolled over the edge of it as I hadn’t seen it in time to completely miss and the tires spun slightly on the crumbled rock. Precious speed bled off and we began to slip sideways. Shifting down a gear, I fed in power and the engine bellowed as four of the six tires failed to gain traction.
As quickly as we’d gotten into trouble, the truck suddenly found its footing and shot forward. Blasting over a rocky ridgeline, we plowed into soft sand. The hard tires dug in and we slowed dramatically. Recognizing the danger immediately, I floored the throttle, trying to maintain our momentum. The engine screamed and sand was thrown high into the air as the tires dug deep.
Two seconds later we came to a complete stop and I backed off the throttle with a curse. I wasted precious time trying to back up, but we weren’t going anywhere at the moment.
“OUT!” I shouted. “Everyone that has a rifle, with me. Ziggy, you and the kids up in those rocks!”
I pointed at a jumble of car sized boulders on the far edge of the shallow depression we were stuck in. Everyone was instantly in motion and I was running to the ridge that overlooked the approaching infected when I realized Dog and Mavis were at my side.
“Go with Ziggy!” I said to her.
“I’m not a baby. I’m going with you!”
“Damn it, Mavis! Those kids have to be protected if the infected get past us. She needs you and Dog. Now go!”
She pulled to a stop, but I didn’t have time to see if she listened. I was at the ridgeline, dropping onto my stomach as my rifle came up. The group of females were charging up the slope I’d just driven, almost to the area of loose rock. And they were coming fast.
Rachel threw herself down next to me and pulled a rifle to her shoulder. I started to say something, not wanting her and the baby anywhere near the fight, but she preempted and silenced me by pulling the trigger. I looked downrange to see a female flop dead and tumble downslope, knocking the feet from beneath a couple of her sisters.
Pulling my rifle in, I started shooting. Soon there were several more weapons firing on both sides of me, but I didn’t have time to see who had joined the fight. The females were close and despite the incline and treacherous footing were still coming fast. Too fast, I realized without consciously thinking about it.
At least half of the original number were down, but while we’d been shooting them the rest had approached to within fifty yards and were still charging. The only good news was that they were now so close it was almost like shooting fish in a barrel. Every shot was counting, and their numbers were thinning, but we weren’t going to be able to stop them from reaching us.
Twenty yards and there were still over fifty of them. Screaming as they leapt up the rise. Ten yards. More than forty. Rifles were firing on full auto, now. No one was worried about kill shots. It was time to slow their advance. Past time, actually.
My rifle locked open on an empty magazine and I let it fall to the side. Rising, I felt the heat course through me as my muscles hardened in preparation for a fight. Drawing my knife, I moved to stand over Rachel and raised the blade. Several females spotted me, immediately changing directions to attack. Rachel dropped two of them, then the rest were there.
I roared as I stepped between them and her. They slammed into me, but I was prepared and stood fast. Slashed with all the power in my arm as I grasped a throat with my free hand and tore it out.
Screams surrounded me as I whirled in their midst. I used more than just the blade. Elbows. Fists. Even a head butt that crushed a female’s face an instant before I stabbed her through the heart. Blood fountained and bodies were ground into the sand beneath my feet.
I severed limbs with savage blows and decapitated a bitch when she flashed in from the side. I’d grasped her by the hair to stop her advance, then turned my hips into the stroke that removed her head. It dangled from my clenched fist, draining blood onto the sand.
And then there were no more. I turned several circles, my heart still pounding a drumbeat as I searched for an enemy. But they were all down and dead. And I stood in the middle of at least thirty bodies, the sand stained a completely different shade of red from all the blood I’d spilled.
I was panting as I slowly calmed and realized I was a few yards down the slope. Looking up, I saw the people who’d been fighting at my side. They stood in a loose group, staring at me in shock. Rachel was to the side, her expression unreadable.
Starting to climb up and join them, I realized I was still carrying a severed head. Looking around at the havoc I’d wrought, I tossed it next to three bodies that had ended up in a pile. Instead of coming to rest with them, the fucking thing bounced, then began rolling. Just like a goddamn lopsided basketball. Bumping down the slope, picking up speed as it left a trail of blood to mark its passage.
45
“You two, up on those ridges and keep your fuckin’ eyes peeled.”
I had walked up the slope and was speaking to Smyth’s men. They knew I was right, or after what they’d witnessed they weren’t about to argue with me, and both took off at a fast run. I didn’t much care either way, as long as they did their jobs.
“And I thought you were crazy when we was in Africa,” Smyth said with a grin.
For a second I was transported to another place and time, remembering hunting warlords and their rag-tag soldiers in a shithole country not far from the equator. Lucas and Smyth had been there, too.
“Ain’t seen crazy, yet,” I said, grinning back. “Now, let’s get the truck out of that goddamn sand.”
“Wouldn’t have a problem if you didn’t drive like a drunk galah.”
We were walking toward the truck and I was surprised to find Lucas on his feet with a rifle in his hands. He had been protecting his family, despite being so wobbly that I didn’t know how he hadn’t fallen on his face. Rachel made a small, irritated sound and hurried past me to check on him.