Contamination 5: Survival (Contamination Post-Apocalyptic Zombie Series)

by Piperbrook, T. W.

  “Eighty-four, last count I had. We have people coming in from all over. Word is spreading.”

  “Aren’t there camps like this all over?”

  Peters gave her a sideways glance. “There were, but they didn’t last long. As you can imagine, it’s been difficult to reach people in the contaminated zones. You should be safe now, though. We have plenty of reinforcements on the way.”

  As if on cue, the whir of a helicopter sounded overhead. Caddy glanced up, watching the blades of what looked like a news helicopter cut across the sky. Several more military aircraft hung in the distance. Once the noise had dissipated, she resumed conversation.

  “Has the virus been contained? Have you found the agents?”

  The soldier looked away. Caddy could tell she’d heard her, but the woman wasn’t answering. After a few more steps, Peters pulled her into an empty green tent.

  “This will be your living quarters for now. Under the cot, you’ll find a change of clothes and a blanket. As I mentioned, you’ll find food and water in the last tent at the end of the row.”

  The woman started to leave. Before she could leave, Caddy grabbed her arm.

  “Wait.”

  “What is it?”

  “You must have more information. My friend has family in Portland. When he gets out of surgery, he’ll need to know they’re safe. How far has this thing spread?”

  Peters sighed.

  “Everyone north of Utah is fine, as far as we know. We’re working on restoring communications everywhere else, so we should have more information soon. I can’t tell you much more than that.”

  “What about the agents? What about the people responsible?”

  The soldier stepped out of the tent, glanced in both directions, and then ducked back inside.

  “Look, Caddy, I can tell you know a little more about what’s going on than most, so I’ll let you in on what I know. But you better not utter a word. They’d have my damn uniform for this.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  “We’ve already located most of the agents. Right now we’re working on capturing the remainder and securing the contamination zones. Hang tight. It’s only a matter of time until we have this thing contained,” Peters said. She bit her lip and motioned around the tent. “Now try to get comfortable. I’ll let you know when your friend is out of surgery.”

  Before Caddy could ask her anything further, the woman had disappeared.

  Caddy surveyed the small tent. Although there were two cots, it looked like she was the only occupant. There were two packages under each cot, presumably containing clothes. Other than that, the place was barren.

  She patted her pockets. Her jeans were empty. She didn’t even have her license. The only things she’d brought were the weapons and food in the truck, and those things had already been confiscated.

  She sat on the cot for a few seconds and put her head in her hands. No matter how she tried to distract herself, her thoughts kept returning to Noah. With her mother gone and her whole town dead, he was the only thing she had left. The wait was unbearable. Peters had promised to relay news of his condition, but she wondered how long that would take. Considering the line of cars she’d seen outside, the military had more pressing concerns.

  With nothing else to do, she decided to walk to the food tent.

  Although she couldn’t fathom eating, her stomach was snarling. It’d probably do her good to have a meal. In addition, she might be able to get information from the other survivors.

  Maybe she could even find Noah’s whereabouts.

  Caddy parted the folds of her tent and stepped out. She was immediately assaulted by conversation. Inside the tent, the noise had been in the background, but now it was louder than ever—a steady hum of chatter that wafted over the campground. Everywhere she looked, she saw survivors. Some held plates of food; others were holding beverages. She looked for Peters, but the woman was gone.

  Caddy began walking along the center aisle, navigating her way around the other people. A few of them glanced in her direction, perhaps recognizing that she hadn’t been there before. She felt them sizing her up as she passed by.

  Her original plan had been to get some information, but now she was getting anxious. Caddy was alone and unarmed. Even though she was in a military campsite, there was no telling what kind of people she would run into. If someone decided to attack her, to kill her, it could be minutes before help arrived.

  By then she’d be dead.

  She continued down the aisle, doing her best to blend in and not draw attention to herself. About halfway to the food tent, she noticed a heavyset man sitting in a chair. His face seemed round and friendly. There were a few groups chatting it up around him, but he appeared to be alone.

  She paused for a second, debating whether to speak with him. Before she could make a decision, he met her eyes.

  “You just get here?” he asked.

  Caddy instinctively glanced left and right.

  “Yes,” she answered, after a pause.

  “I’m Gordon. I’m not a murderer or anything.”

  The man smiled. He gave a half-hearted shrug, as if expecting her to move on. Instead, Caddy walked over and extended her hand.

  “I’m Caddy.”

  Gordon reached out and shook her hand. His grasp was weak, as if the life had been drained out of him. He seemed upset.

  “Where are you from, Gordon?” she asked the man.

  “I’m from New Mexico.”

  “That’s quite a ways from here. How’d you end up in Colorado?”

  The large man sighed. “My wife and I were some of the first people to leave. I saw what was going on, and I knew we needed to get the hell out of there.” He paused. “Things were going good at first. We got my RV on the road before there was even any traffic. We were able to get all the way to Arizona before Mary turned.”

  The man wiped at his eyes, and his face looked like someone had knocked the wind out of him. Caddy gave him a sympathetic glance.

  “I lost someone close to me, too. My mother,” she whispered.

  The words sounded surreal as she said them. She glanced away from Gordon, her own eyes watering. She stared at the tent behind him. For a second, she was certain her mother would come popping out at any moment, explaining the whole thing had been a joke.

  But she knew that wouldn’t happen. She’d seen the woman shot right in front of her eyes. There was no coming back from that.

  “Are you here alone?” Gordon asked.

  “I’m with a friend, but he’s in surgery. He was shot on the way in.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’m hoping he’ll be OK. They’re supposed to come get me when I can see him, but I’m not sure when that’ll be.”

  “Hopefully it won’t be too much longer. I know they have a lot of injured folks on the way in, but hopefully he beat the rush.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “There’s a whole slew of people coming in from Salt Lake. A lot of them were in rough shape. Rumor has it they were being held hostage in some compound there.”

  “Held hostage?”

  “That’s what I heard. A lot of messed-up things have happened since the infection. Nothing surprises me anymore.” Gordon shook his head. “I’ve seen neighbors killing neighbors, people tied to trucks, people shot down in the streets…”

  Caddy nodded. She looked off into the distance, remembering some of her own tales. She imagined all of the survivors had a story. If they lived to tell about it, their stories would haunt them all.

  “Well, it was nice meeting you, Gordon. I’m going to get some food.”

  Gordon nodded. “Be careful, and be sure to watch your back. Even with the military presence, things can get ugly real quick.”

  “I appreciate the warning.”

  Caddy rose to her feet and dusted off her pants. Then she headed off to get some food.

  31

  The food, like the accommodations, wa
sn’t the greatest. The meatloaf was dry and pasty; the mashed potatoes were out of a can. But to Caddy, it might as well have been a four-course meal or a coveted dish from a five-star restaurant.

  She hadn’t realized how deprived her stomach had been until just now. It only took her a few seconds to devour the entire plateful, and when she was finished, she found herself looking for seconds. The chef, a military man bearing the nametag Sanders, made it clear the food was being rationed.

  “I’d give you more, but there are several carloads of people coming in,” he told Caddy. “I want to make sure I have enough.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the meal.”

  She threw her paper plate in the oversized garbage bin and headed back to her tent. As she walked, she stared into the distance, hoping to catch a glimpse of Peters. Although she was glad she’d eaten, she didn’t want to miss any news about Noah.

  If she didn’t hear anything soon, she’d track him down herself.

  On the way back, she caught snippets of conversation from those around her. The site was abuzz with news of the incoming survivors. She paused next to a young couple, a man and a woman, drawn in by what they were saying.

  “The people were held captive and tortured,” the woman said. “They said it happened at a compound outside of Salt Lake.”

  “Where?”

  “Nobody knows. Somewhere in the mountains.”

  “Who told you?”

  “One of the survivors they rescued. She was telling the staff about it on the way in. They were trying to keep her quiet, but I overheard.”

  Caddy lingered by a nearby tent, hoping to glean some more information. After a few more seconds, the couple spotted her. The woman met her eyes.

  “You’re not one of them, are you?”

  “One of whom?” Caddy asked, feigning ignorance.

  “One of the people that was held hostage.”

  “No. I came from Chester with my friend. He was taken by medical.”

  The woman glanced around the campsite, as if suddenly afraid someone was eavesdropping. “We’re supposed to be getting a bunch of new arrivals. Randall and I are worried we might run out of room.”

  The man nodded his head.

  “We’ve been here a few weeks now, and this is the most crowded we’ve seen it.”

  The woman recounted what she’d heard about the hostages. Caddy listened as if she hadn’t already heard it.

  “Apparently, this whole virus is some sort of terrorist attack or something. The group responsible was raided a few days ago, and most of them were killed. That’s where the hostages came from.”

  The man broke in. “We’re hoping this means it’s over.”

  Caddy opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. Although she knew more about the agents, she’d promised Peters she wouldn’t repeat anything. Besides, she didn’t want to incite panic. She’d keep quiet. Maybe it was better that they didn’t know.

  “Where are they keeping the wounded?” she asked.

  The woman pointed over the tents.

  “On the western perimeter, past the living quarters. There are several trailers. The white tents are for the people who are stable. One of our old neighbors was brought there.”

  “Hopefully that’s where my friend is.”

  “I hope you find him,” the woman said.

  Caddy thanked the pair and headed off down the aisle. She’d done enough waiting around. It was time to locate Noah.

  She was interrupted by gunfire.

  Caddy ducked to the ground and covered her head, certain she was about to be struck down. Had the creatures gotten inside? Had the agents? It took her several seconds to realize she was the only one panicking.

  The other survivors milled around her, going about their business. A few glanced down at her with a knowing look. Feeling foolish, Caddy got to her feet and looked for the source of the noise.

  Along the eastern perimeter, outside the fence, several soldiers were firing at the infected. She watched as two of the creatures staggered toward the campsite, arms dangling at their sides. It looked like they were on the brink of death.

  Within seconds, they were mowed down by automatic weaponry. The creatures sank to the earth.

  Caddy sucked in a breath and continued down the aisle.

  On the way, she looked for her living quarters. It took her a second to determine which tent was hers; none of them were numbered. Her only clue was a pair of familiar neighbors hovering around the site next door. There was no indication Peters had been there.

  As she continued walking, she saw the trailer where she’d been questioned. The doors were closed; the blinds were drawn. She wondered if the two men were still inside, giving someone else the third degree.

  Was the infection really coming to an end?

  Caddy looked around at the other survivors. All of them were dirt-stained and tired, but several were smiling. Two young children pushed each other playfully in front of her. Their mother walked behind them, scolding them with a half-hearted lash of the tongue.

  Just a few hours ago, Caddy couldn’t imagine ever having a sense of normalcy.

  But now, surrounded by a community of other survivors, her hope was renewed. With the infection under control, they’d be forced to rebuild, forced to move on. Memories would fade, even if they’d never be forgotten.

  People would continue to exist, because like it or not, time would continue passing.

  Caddy pictured her mother’s face, and her eyes moistened. Already, the memories were growing dim. When Caddy closed her eyes, she could envision her mother’s smile, the way she’d looked when she laughed, but without the woman in front of her, it was difficult to remember all the details. It was like trying to remember a single frame of a movie whose title she could barely remember.

  She didn’t even have a picture. She’d have to go back and get one. Sometime. Somehow.

  But right now, she had more immediate concerns. She needed to find Noah.

  Caddy blew past the trailers, veering around the first row of tents and making her way to the western fences. The campsite was larger than she’d thought. Although she could see the white tents the woman had described, they seemed miles away.

  The area was teeming with soldiers. She slowed her pace and avoided eye contact. The last thing she needed was to be stopped and turned away. A few of them wrinkled their brows, but she kept on, acting as if she had every right to be there.

  She wasn’t sure what their restrictions were, but she wasn’t about to ask. When she reached the first of the tents, she peered through the flaps. Inside were several rows of cots. Most of the patients inside were hooked up to IVs; many were unconscious. She scanned the faces, her heart lurching, suddenly certain she was too late.

  After staring for several seconds, she moved on. She’d only walked a few steps when she bumped into a nurse in a white uniform.

  “I’m sorry!” she said.

  The woman gave her an agitated look. It looked like she was in a hurry.

  “I’m looking for my friend. He was shot in the arm and he was taken here.”

  “You shouldn’t be here. We have a lot of wounded people in these tents, and we barely have the staff to tend to them. One of the soldiers can escort you back—”

  “Please. I need to see him. His name is Noah Chambers.”

  Without realizing it, Caddy began to cry. The nurse softened her demeanor.

  “What does he look like?”

  “Short brown hair, green eyes, early twenties…”

  “We just finished stitching him up a little while ago. He’s in the next tent.”

  “Is he OK?”

  “He’s sore and disoriented, but he’ll live.”

  “Thank you so much. Really.”

  “If anyone gives you any flack, tell them Nurse Locksley said to let you in.”

  Caddy thanked the woman again and strode toward the adjacent tent. Her heart was still thudding in her chest. Despite the wo
man’s reassurances, she needed to find Noah. She needed to verify he was OK.

  What if the nurse had gotten the wrong patient? What if it wasn’t him?

  When she reached the next tent, she rushed inside. Her eyes darted from one patient to the next, her concern deepening. Unlike the patients in the other tent, some of these were awake, and each of them eyed Caddy with confusion, as if expecting visitors of their own. There was no sign of Noah.

  She walked to the center of the tent, sidestepping several medical personnel. After a few seconds, one of them grabbed her arm.

  “Can I help you?” a male orderly asked, frowning.

  “I’m looking for Noah Chambers,” she said. She let her gaze wander as she talked, still scanning the rows for her friend.

  “What does he look like?”

  “Brown hair, skinny. Green eyes.”

  “We have a lot of people in here like that. You’re going to have to—”

  “Never mind, I see him.”

  Caddy broke loose and darted from his grasp.

  “Hold on. Let me just—”

  “Nurse Locksley said it was OK,” she called behind her.

  Before the orderly could stop her, Caddy reached the far end of the tent. Noah was tucked underneath several blankets, his arm bandaged. Even from across the tent, she’d recognized his thin form. His head was turned to the side, and his eyes were closed. Caddy’s face streamed with tears as she ran to his side.

  To her surprise, there were already two visitors with him.

  32

  In his dream, Noah was surrounded.

  All around him were the mouths and flesh of the infected. Their bodies hurtled at him from every direction; their nails scratched at his skin. He did his best to dodge them, but he couldn’t seem to walk. His feet felt like they were rooted in cement.

  He was walled in. Trapped.

  All he could do was close his eyes and shield his face, hoping they somehow wouldn’t get to him. His arm throbbed. One of them must have taken a bite out of him.

  He had to do something. He had to get free.

  He kicked his legs and cried out, but he met resistance. It felt like his limbs were encased in concrete; he was powerless to move. There had to be a way out, a way to get to his family.