Rise & Walk (Book 2): Pathogen

by Gregory Solis

  Once outside the world of academia Alexandra learned when and how to use her appearance to further her career. She had indeed dressed more provocatively for her first job interview at RAM once she discovered that it would be with a man. Make-up, high heels, clothes that fit in certain ways, could all be employed to disarm and distract men at times but she rarely did so because she abhorred that sort of attention. She had become accustomed to wearing high heels to seem taller in a world of hired military contractors and scientists but most days she wore very little make-up. She didn’t need to. There wasn’t a Skunk in the facility that didn’t think well of her. But they also respected her and never, ever took her for granted. Alexandra missed her facility and her staff. She hoped they were all okay.

  Good Christ! She thought, what am I doing out here?

  Nineteen

  Veronica quietly looked in on Margaret and found her still sleeping. She watched the old woman for a moment, glad that she was able to rest. The incident in the kitchen frightened Veronica. She hoped the old lady was all right because she lacked any experience with the elderly. Geriatrics wasn’t like bandaging a wound or setting a bone, it was a series of measures to make the most of worn out organs and prolong life. She hadn’t spent much time studying aging and its treatment. Margaret had been through a lot last night and it would be a shame for her to get sick now that they were somewhat safe.

  She heard Jack rummaging around in the office. She moved into the hall and closed the bedroom door to preserve Margaret’s peace.

  Veronica found Jack standing over the large writing desk, staring with a critical expression at small assortment of shotgun ammunition. His combat harness was also on the desk.

  “Problems?” Veronica asked, leaning her shoulder on the doorway.

  Jack looked up, distracted and almost annoyed.

  “Just trying to figure out how much ammo to leave you.” He said.

  Veronica squinted and wondered if he was considering taking all the ammunition.

  “I’m gonna take one box and the loose rounds, that will leave you a box of twelve-gauge shells for the double-barrel. How’s that sound?”

  “Fine,” Veronica said lifting herself off the doorjamb to stand erect even though it taxed her wound. Feeling a little short-tempered, the pain from her wound made her sound even more so when she asked, “Why aren’t you going with them?”

  “They shouldn’t be going at all.” Jack said as he began to place loose shells in a pouch on his combat gear.

  “Don’t you think they’d be better off if you went too?” She said stepping forward.

  Jack looked at her for a moment and then returned to loading his gear. Veronica moved closer to the desk undeterred.

  “I don’t get it?” she persisted. “What happened to you since yesterday?” Jack dropped his gear on the desk.

  “I figured if I said no, he wouldn’t go. But I forgot how stupid Sanchez can be.” Jack said.

  “Okay, now I really don’t get it.” Said Veronica appalled by Jack’s tone. Her disgust seemed to soften Jack, who sat down in the large leather chair, he spoke.

  “You don’t know Tony like I do. He’s only doing this because he likes her.”

  “So?” She said crossing her arms.

  Jack sighed and started toying with one of the free shotgun shells; spinning it on the desk.

  “You could stick Tony in a room with fifteen single women and he’ll be drawn, like a magnet, to the worst one of the bunch. She’ll end up loving him, like a friend… and it always ends in him getting hurt. It’s like his damn superpower.”

  Veronica understood the caveman logic that Jack wanted to protect his friend but was disappointed in him for letting it get in the way of doing the right thing.

  “He’s wasting his time when we should be on the road,” said Jack standing and resuming packing his gear.

  “Nikki just wants to find her parents; you can understand that, can’t you?” Veronica asked hoping to find some compassion in Jack.

  “Of course I do. I was gonna offer to drive her round back of the high school, past that mob of freaks and let her hop the fence on our way out of town. But I know that Tony would just jump right over with her and it would take forever to get his big ass back in the truck.”

  Veronica didn’t know what to make of Jack but she did know that he should be more supportive of his friend. She looked Jack straight in the eye and spoke.

  “You know it got really bad in the shack yesterday. Nikki held those things off all by herself, and still managed to patch me while I was out cold. I just tried to go with them; to help out, but they wouldn’t let me because of this.” Veronica motioned to the darkening spot on her shirt.

  “You’re wrong about her.” Veronica said.

  Jack Mason’s eyes did not leave her as he slid an arm into his combat harness and adjusted the fit. He snapped the belt closed with a bitter smirk. Veronica’s stern gaze followed him as he checked the load in the Citori shotgun.

  “Guess I could use a few things from the store.” He said as he moved passed her and left the room. She heard his boots thumping down the carpeted stairs. Veronica dropped her arms and looked around the office. On the wall next to the balcony she saw three framed photographs of Lance. The bottom one was of a younger Lance in a college football uniform for USC. The middle photo was of Lance with an attractive redheaded woman in formalwear at some event. Veronica felt a little sad for the man while rubbing at the perimeter of her wound. The couple in the image seemed happy. The woman’s smile was radiant. Veronica remembered the name on the bottle of Vicodin that Tony gave her last night. The prescription was made out to a Wanda Clairmont. Looking back the woman in the photograph, she wondered what had become of Wanda. She dropped her eyes and shook her head. Old photographs always got to her, especially if they were photographs of the departed. She lifted her gaze to the last photo and saw Lance in a cap and gown, holding a Bachelor’s Degree while shaking hands with a silver haired man. Veronica frowned and turned to leave then proceeded towards Nikki’s bedroom to have a look at the wound that the erstwhile Lance Richardson had bequeathed her.

  She chose to use Nikki’s bathroom rather than risk disturbing Margaret. Inside, Veronica lifted her shirt and examined her wound. The gauze had absorbed more yellowish fluid than it could hold. Fluid had begun to accumulate, staining the upper belt-line of her jeans. Pulling the gauze away revealed a raw area of scraped skin smeared with blood and yellow discharge. The surrounding area was dappled with purple and red bruises. Veronica winced, not only at the pain from her wound but also at how horrible it looked. Her wound, reflected in the mirror didn’t look right; it looked like an infection might be setting in. She was reasonably certain that she didn’t come into contact with any of the infected, but she also knew that she shouldn’t be seeping so much. As far as she understood, pus was generated by antibodies while fighting infection. The thought that she might be exposed, might be sick, filled her with dread. She didn’t appear to have a fever, she wasn’t perspiring, and she had no inexplicable body aches. As if I didn’t have enough to worry about? She washed the area carefully with anti-bacterial soap and pressed a clean washcloth to her wound. She had left her first aid supplies in the master bedroom with Margaret. She held the washcloth in place with her left hand and opened the bathroom door. Jack stood in the doorway, startling her.

  “They already left.” He said disappointed.

  Twenty

  Nikki quickly became accustomed to driving the Bronco. Tony thought she had a bit of a problem with the brakes but their journey so far had been all downhill; not the best way to judge braking ability. He was confident that she’d get used to the quirks of the vehicle in no time. She pulled up to the first intersection of the road leading to the Richardson estate, (which Tony learned was called Overlook Road,) and the edge of town. A gas station stood on the corner diagonal from their location. Nikki stopped the vehicle.

  “Everything seems so quiet,” she said.
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  “Yep, it always does before it hits the fan.”

  Nikki turned to him slowly, “Thanks!”

  “Sorry… Hey, how about you let me drive?” Tony said changing the subject. Nikki slid the shifter to PARK. Tony began to open his door. She reached over and put her hand on his wrist.

  “Don’t…just slide over. I don’t want anything hitting the fan yet.” She said quietly.

  Tony smiled and slid towards the driver’s side. Nikki lifted herself up and sat on his lap for the briefest of moments while she passed over. The motion was completely practical but Tony couldn’t help but consider the two seconds where her small, firm bottom rested on his legs; the sensation was almost electric. Good God, this girl’s hot. He looked out towards the driver’s window for a moment to hide any possible blushing. He took a quick moment to compose himself under the pretense that he was observing their surroundings.

  “How are you gonna get inside?” Nikki asked.

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “The store; How are we gonna get in?” She asked.

  “We’re gonna drill out the locks.” He said after clearing his throat.

  Nikki stared at him in silence with an unspoken question. He smiled and began to drive while explaining.

  “You can use a drill to take out the top part of a lock where the pins are and then twist it open it with a screwdriver.”

  “Why don’t you just pick the lock?” she asked.

  “I never could learn how to do that.” He said shaking his head. “I tried as a kid; it’s a helluva lot harder than it seems.”

  “So you practiced drilling locks as a kid?” She asked with a sarcastic expression.

  “No. In college I worked at a self-storage facility. When people lost their keys or didn’t pay, we’d have to open their units. So I learned there.”

  “Oh,” said Nikki, her voice sounding distant to Tony. He decided it best to keep her engaged and sharp for their mission.

  “So, how we do this is to have a plan, then a back up plan if things go sour; that’s called a contingency. And a plan if the back up plan falls apart, which, it often does.”

  Tony slowed to a stop at an intersection as if traffic laws still mattered.

  “Plans change…” He mused aloud. He looked both ways before continuing.

  “We’re gonna go in the back, where most stores would have a loading dock. If we can’t do that, then we’re gonna look for a back door. If that doesn’t work, we can try the roof, and finally if all else fails; we go in the front. But that means breaking a window; the very last resort. I want to stay as hidden and quiet as possible.”

  Nikki was listening intently. Tony was glad that she followed so well. She seemed to always pay attention. She had learned everything he told her about his handgun the other night and it saved her life. Beautiful and smart, he thought.

  “Right! Right here!” She said pointing.

  *****

  Gabe Duffy squinted while observing the yellow Bronco make a right turn and disappear behind a set of buildings.

  “It’s not them,” he said disappointed. Billy slouched in despair while looking to the young woman standing between them.

  “What’s over there?” He asked.

  Jinxy thought for a moment trying to remember what was in the area. She was hungry and tired from a bad night’s sleep.

  “Uh, a butcher shop, a liquor store, sports store, and Sierra Pizza.” She listed in a tired voice, “It’s a strip mall kind of thing.”

  Billy turned around and sat on the roof with his back against a large air-conditioning unit.

  “Damn.” Billy looked to Jinxy, “I could use some Pizza right now.”

  “You ain’t wrong!” replied Jinxy.

  “Try to keep your mind off it.” Gabe said and started pacing slowly towards the rear of the roof. Billy stood.

  “We’re gonna have to figure something out. We can’t just stay up here until we starve.” Said Billy. Gabe stopped and turned. He patted the car keys in his front pocket and shrugged.

  “Check if they’re still out there.” Gabe said as he and Billy moved to the front of the bowling alley, just above the entrance. Jinxy turned away and didn’t join them. Looking down over the parking lot Gabe saw his faded red Volkswagen Mini-bus parked in the nearest spot to the doors, not twenty paces from the nine or ten ghouls clawing their cold hands on the glass.

  “Damn it, there’s more now.” Billy said, “Why don’t they just move on?”

  “I don’t know but they sure seem hungry.” Gabe said.

  “They ain’t the only ones.” Billy said, “Do you think I could jump from here on to your van?”

  Gabe turned astonished, “No, it’s too damn high and too damn far.” He said, “Besides if anyone’s gonna jump, it should be me.”

  “Why you?”

  “I’m team-captain, I say who takes point, and it’s my bus.” Gabe said, “I don’t think it’d work anyway. Not with those dudes there.” Billy looked over the edge for a moment then over to the lot.

  “I guess so.” Billy said and moved back from the edge, “They’d probably get ya.” He said quietly.

  “I don’t wanna end up like that,” Gabe said, “Even if they think they might have a cure or something; I wouldn’t want to be biting on people.”

  Billy’s face fell into a frown and he only nodded in agreement before turning to walk slowly towards Jinxy.

  Gabe rested his arms on the wall and surveyed the parking lot. They were safe on the roof for the moment but needed to make a move before malnutrition got the better of them. They had no way down from the roof other than opening the bathroom door inside and having to face the two infected men within. That idea did not appeal to Gabe at all especially since one of those infected was their friend Travis. Billy and Travis were very close and Gabe knew that Billy was having a hard time with how things played out. Gabe thought that Billy would rather risk jumping from the roof than face Travis in the torn and bloody state he was in. Gabe judged the distance to be too great to pull off such a stunt. With the small wall that surrounded the perimeter off the roof even a drop to the ground must have been twenty feet or more. Gabe was sure that none of them could make it down safely without at least spraining an ankle. Then he’d have to get into the van and start it up without getting jumped by those things. Gabe shook his head and looked down, knowing that he couldn’t see a way out of this mess.

  A chubby man with greasy hair looked up at Gabe and froze. Their eyes met and Gabe felt a hot knife of terror in his empty stomach as he recognized the infected man from the bowling alley. The man’s face was pale and his mouth foamed with thick spittle as it hurled a growl up towards the roof. Gabe dropped to the graveled surface of the roof and rolled a few feet away as if he had just taken fire on the paintball field. His heart raced as he rose to a crouch and slinked away from the wall to join Billy and the girl.

  “One of them saw me.” He said.

  “We heard,” said Jinxy crossing her arms, “keep away from the sides.”

  “Maybe we should go in the attic for a while, listen to the T.V.?” Gabe said. Billy avoided his gaze while Jinxy shook her head.

  “I can’t take it in there,” said Jinxy, “Duane left the Nacho machine on and its starting to percolate cheddar smell all over.”

  “Will it start a fire?” Gabe said.

  “Nah,” Jinxy said. “It’s like a crock-pot. Duane would leave it go for a week.”

  Billy raised his eyebrow skeptically.

  “Hey, I don’t eat it. But I’d give both my Pinkie-toes for a bag of chips and a half cup of three-day old imitation cheese sauce right about now.” Jinxy said.

  “At least we have the taps in the bathroom. Without that we’d be in really bad shape.” Gabe said trying to keep their spirits up.

  “We have to figure something out.” Billy said, “We can’t stay up here much longer.”

  *****

  Tony shifted the Bronco into neutral and switche
d off the engine before making the turn into the rear of the strip mall that contained Bull’s-eye sporting goods. The vehicle was left with enough momentum to coast quietly behind the building.

  “I’m doing this to be quiet, but you have to be carful ‘cuz the power steering goes out when you turn off the engine.” He said to Nikki, “Makes it really hard to steer.” He said grunting. She nodded taking in the lesson. “It doesn’t always work on modern cars with locking steering wheels.” He added.

  As he had assumed, there was indeed a large loading dock with a roll-up door but his hopes shrank as he realized that there was no exposed lock on the roll-up. He coasted the Bronco to a stop in front of a single door that stood next to the roll-up; a door with a dead-bolt lock.

  “Damn, the loading dock locks from the inside… Probably should’ve figured on that.” Tony said as he turned and reached into a duffle bag on the back seat and retrieving the battery powered drill.

  “Wait here and keep an eye out for trouble.” He said and opened his door. Tony looked back at Nikki. She nodded as he put his finger to his lips in a shush motion, and smiled. Three stride-lengths from his open door was the locked rear entrance to the store. He leaned his shotgun on the wall and lifted the drill. He lined up the drill-bit with the uppermost part of the lock; the area that contained its locking pins, and slowly engaged the motor. The hardened carbon steel bit began to tear away at the outer brass housing.