Exodus: V Plague Book 13

by Dirk Patton

  I breathed a sigh of relief. I’d been more worried about being forced or shot down than I’d let on.

  “Good. So, what’s your plan?”

  “Go a few hundred miles east. That should get us well beyond the range of any radar they’ve got up, even airborne. At that point, we turn south and stay over Mexico until we reach Guadalajara, which is south of the southern tip of Baja, then due west to Hawaii. Going to take a while, so you might as well get some sleep.”

  “If that’s the way to go, what were you doing over the Sea of Cortez when you got shot down? Why weren’t you farther south to avoid them?” I asked, ignoring his suggestion.

  “They hadn’t started patrolling the Baja peninsula when I came through. Got caught by surprise on my way home.”

  “Where had you been, by the way?”

  “Checking some oil rig off the Texas coast. Don’t know why. I’m just a stick jockey.”

  “Checking it for what?” I asked.

  “Seeing if it was still operational.”

  “Why? Is the Admiral thinking we need to start getting oil from the Gulf?”

  “No, don’t think this is a real platform. When I buzzed it, I got lit up by antiaircraft tracking radar and contacted on the guard channel. If it was really pumping oil… well, anyway, I talked to them for a couple of minutes to verify they were alive and well, then had to scoot for home.

  “Guessing it’s some sort of secret project disguised as an oil rig. Maybe a weapons or surveillance platform. Who knows? All I was supposed to do was see if there was anyone still alive.”

  There was a soft beeping sound from the incredibly complicated control panel and he held up a finger for me to wait. Pressing a button, he spoke to someone for a few seconds before signing off. With a smile, he turned the yoke, banking the big plane until the navigation screen showed us traveling south.

  “That was Pearl,” he explained. “The Russians reacted when we took off but gave up after only a hundred miles. They’re going to keep an eye on things and give me a heads up if the Ivans try to intercept as we head south.”

  I looked out the windscreen, but there was nothing visible other than the night sky.

  “OK,” I said. “Let me know if anything changes.”

  I turned to leave, stopping when he called my name.

  “Think you could send Rachel up here? The last shot is wearing off.”

  “I’ll let her know,” I said. “By the way, that was a hell of a thing you did, protecting those girls like that.”

  “My momma didn’t raise a fool,” he chuckled. “Give up women? Are you kidding? Gotta protect my turf!”

  I grinned and walked out of the cockpit, stopping where Rachel was sitting with Dog and Irina. Igor, asleep or unconscious, was stretched out on a business class seat that had been folded down into a bed.

  “How is he?” I asked.

  “Incredibly, nothing’s broken,” Rachel said. “He has a serious concussion and a lot of soft tissue damage from the infected, but he’ll be OK. As long as he has time to heal.”

  “Tough fucker,” I mumbled, watching as Irina gently stroked his forehead. “By the way, Vance needs another shot.”

  Rachel nodded and stood, picking up her pack.

  “Are we safe?” She asked.

  “Seems so,” I said. “We should be in Hawaii in a few hours.”

  “No infected there, right? And no one trying to kill us?” Rachel looked at me expectantly.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head.

  I started to smile, then Rachel’s question reminded me of Nicole. What the hell was going to happen to her when we arrived? The Admiral had already told me, in no uncertain terms, that he wouldn’t allow any infected into the islands. And while Nicole might not technically be an infected, she was close enough to set off alarm bells the instant someone saw her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Irina asked, seeing the expression on my face.

  I sighed and explained my thoughts.

  “They can’t turn her away!” Rachel protested.

  Irina nodded in agreement.

  “I’m not worried about that,” I said. “I’m worried they’re going to lock her away in an isolation chamber.”

  “You can’t let that happen!” Rachel said.

  “I can’t stop it if that’s what the Admiral decides to do,” I said. “I’m not in charge once we get there, and I can’t just do whatever I think is best. We’re going back to the real world. There will be laws and rules we have to follow, whether we like them or not.”

  Rachel stood there glaring at me. After several uncomfortable seconds, she turned and headed for the flight deck to attend to Vance. I watched her walk away, then followed quickly to retrieve something I’d noticed in the cockpit. When I came back, I had to stop and pet Dog before he’d let me continue down the aisle. I rubbed his muzzle, ruffled his ears and looked at Irina as she continued to fawn over Igor.

  “He’s in love with you,” I said, glad Igor wasn’t awake to hear me spill his secret.

  “I wish he’d tell me.”

  “Is it mutual?” I asked, mildly surprised by her response.

  “Yes,” she smiled. “It always has been. But, I was an officer, and it wasn’t possible. Then, everything we’ve been through, and Martinez, and…”

  “Look,” I said when it was obvious she wasn’t going to finish her thought. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that the person you love could be gone in an instant. Don’t waste time. Tell him how you feel.”

  “I could say the same to you,” Irina said, tilting her head in the direction Rachel had gone.

  “That’s different,” I said.

  “Only because you’re letting it be,” she said. “You’re right. There’s no time to waste, so quit wasting it.”

  We looked at each other for a few moments, then I smiled and turned to go find Nicole. She was seated with Gonzales, her head on his shoulder, eyes closed. He was awake and watched me approach.

  “She OK?” I asked quietly, not wanting to wake her.

  “She’s fine,” Nicole answered before the Master Chief could speak.

  She opened her eyes, reminding me of how shocking she would appear to the people in Hawaii.

  “What the hell happened back there?” I asked.

  “I don’t really know,” she said. “I don’t know how I know to sing like that. I just do.”

  “That was amazing,” I said. “You saved Igor’s life. All our lives.”

  Nicole sat up and shrugged, looking down at her lap where she held Gonzales’s big hand with both of hers.

  “They weren’t there to attack us, at least not like we’re used to,” she said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When Igor blew up the fuel truck, then the shooting started and all the rockets from the helicopter, well, it terrified the mothers that were in the hangar. You couldn’t hear them?”

  “No,” I said. “I couldn’t hear anything other than the fighting.”

  “The other females did,” she said. “And they answered. Came running to protect the others.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, stunned at the thought of that level of community among the infected.

  “Yes,” Nicole said, nodding. “I felt the impulse, too. But, I understood that we weren’t there to harm them.”

  I stared at her, unsure what to say next. Before things got awkward, I changed subjects.

  “So, we may have a problem when we land in Hawaii.”

  “Because I’m infected,” Nicole said calmly. “The same reason I wasn’t allowed to evacuate when the Rangers left.”

  I nodded, holding my hand up as Gonzales sat forward, eyes flashing in anger.

  “Master Chief, we’re about to be back in the real world. Keep your wits about you,” I said, then turned to Nicole. “And I promise I will do everything I can to protect you. But a little insurance might not be a bad thing.”

  I reached into my pocket and held up a pair
of aviator style sunglasses with mirrored lenses. They’d been laying on a small shelf next to a folding jump seat in the cockpit. Nicole looked at them for a second. With a smile, she took them from my hand and slipped them on. Her red eyes were completely hidden.

  “Just keep a low profile when we arrive,” I said.

  Gonzales was looking at her, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Thank you, sir,” he said. “I promise. No more Army jokes!”

  “That’s OK, Master Chief,” I said, smiling back at him. “I know it’s hard for a squid to remember big words.”

  52

  We had to go a couple of hundred miles farther south than Guadalajara before turning west for the final leg of our flight. Russian fighters were patrolling steadily, but for some reason didn’t seem that interested in attempting an intercept. That was probably just as well because we picked up an escort of two dozen F-18s while still over Mexico.

  They’d hauled ass out of Pearl Harbor when we took off from Las Vegas, bringing their own flying gas station with them. Personally, I was more than thrilled to have them formed up on each wing. I’d had about enough of being shot at for a while.

  “Whatcha doin’, boss?”

  I looked up from the notepad I was scribbling on to see Nitro lower his bulk into the seat next to mine.

  “Writing up a couple of recommendations for the Admiral to review,” I said, scrawling my signature across the bottom of one of the pages. “By the way, any idea what the Navy awards that’s equivalent to our Distinguished Service Cross?”

  “No clue,” he said, shrugging his shoulders and raising his voice. “Hey? Any of you squids know what’s equivalent to a DSC in the Army?”

  “Yeah, it’s called a tampon,” Goose answered, earning a thrown boot to the head from Bunny who was a former Army Ranger.

  “Navy Cross,” Monk said.

  “Who you nominating?” Nitro asked, glaring at Goose and Bunny to prevent things from getting out of hand.

  “Vance,” I said, earning a nod of agreement.

  “He deserves it. Any man that’ll keep his mouth shut to protect some civilians, all while getting his nut sack split open, is OK in my book.”

  I nodded, filling in the blank space I’d left at the beginning of the letter now that I knew what to call the medal.

  “Who else?” Nitro asked.

  “What?”

  “You said a couple of nominations. That means two.”

  “Goddamn, Nitro. When did you learn to count?” I asked.

  He glared at me for a moment, then flexed his massive arms as he shook his head.

  “Here,” I said, holding out the pad. “Read this.”

  The nomination wasn’t long, in fact, less than a page. Nitro read it quickly, going very still, then reread it much slower. He handed it to me and tilted his head back onto the seat.

  “That’s good,” he said. “Thanks for only talking about what she did at the end.”

  “Was it really her fault?” I asked, signing the nomination for Anna to receive a posthumous Distinguished Service Cross.

  “No, but she thought it was,” Nitro said.

  “Why?”

  “Because she wouldn’t let us deal with the bullshit when it started. Thought she could reason with William, the militia leader. Only there wasn’t no reasoning with that motherfucker.”

  “Could’ve taken matters into your own hands,” I said softly.

  “Thought about it,” Nitro said. “Only thing that stopped me was worrying what would happen to her if things went bad for us.”

  “I didn’t mean anything by that,” I said, realizing how my comment must have sounded.

  “Known and fought with you too long,” Nitro sighed. “Knew what you meant.”

  We sat quietly for several minutes, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

  “So, what now?” He asked. “Gonna settle down with Rachel and raise pineapples?”

  When he mentioned her name, I automatically looked for Rachel. She was leaned over Igor, treating the wounds inflicted by the females. Some needed to be stitched up, some just cleaned and dressed. She was worried about infection and had already had Vance call ahead to Pearl Harbor to request a waiting ambulance.

  I’d questioned her fear, being told that the sheer number of wounds, from both bites and slashing nails, guaranteed a bacterial infection. If left untreated, or not treated as quickly as possible, there was the very real possibility of a runaway infection that could lead to sepsis and death. But, with proper care, he’d quickly be back on his feet.

  “Australia,” I said, still watching Rachel work.

  “What’s there?”

  “The man that started all of this,” I said. “He and I have an appointment.”

  Nitro grunted, turning his head to look at me after a stretch of silence.

  “Want company?” He asked.

  ---

  The rising sun chased us across the Pacific Ocean. It lit the water beneath us, turning it an incredible shade of blue as we began our descent to the Honolulu International Airport, which shares runways with Hickam Field. I had moved forward to sit with Rachel, Dog crowded in between us with his chin on my boot.

  “There’s hardly any traffic on the roads!”

  Rachel had the window seat and was looking at the ground as we approached the airport.

  “Probably very little gas available to the public,” I said. “Certainly not enough for anyone to be driving that doesn’t have a legitimate need to be doing so.”

  Igor, across the aisle, groaned, drawing our attention. He lifted his head and looked around, not understanding where he was. Irina quickly leaned forward and spoke softly in his ear, then placed a lingering kiss on his cheek as she took his hand. She glanced in my direction, then returned her attention to Igor.

  “What the hell’s going on there?” Rachel whispered in my ear.

  I took her hand and ignored the question.

  “I’m going to Australia as soon as I can,” I said. “I expect the Admiral will object if he finds out what I’m planning.”

  “Didn’t you give me a speech about this being the real world and there are rules we have to follow?” I turned and looked at her, not having a good response. “Isn’t it time to stop fighting? Hasn’t there been enough death? Anyway, you need surgery to remove that bullet fragment. The longer you wait, the greater the possibility that the damage can’t be repaired. You could lose your eye permanently.”

  I thought about what she said, and truth be told, I was sorely tempted. Finding a little shack on an isolated beach for us, and Dog, sounded damn good. Besides, Barinov was an old man. What would I really achieve by killing him? Was robbing him of three or four years to satisfy my desire for revenge worth continuing to risk my life? Was that what Katie would want, or would she tell me to find whatever happiness I could in what was left of the world?

  “I’ll think about it,” I said as the landing gear thumped onto the runway.

  “Look at that!”

  I glanced around when Nitro spoke. He had his face pressed to a window, and I turned and leaned across Rachel to see outside the aircraft.

  The runway was lined with people. People in uniform. Hundreds, no, thousands of them. Packed in, shoulder to shoulder and three or four deep. It seemed as if every other person was holding an American flag, the red, white and blue gleaming in the early morning sun.

  “What the hell?” I breathed, in shock at the turnout. “Who are they here for?”

  I looked across the cabin, seeing the same thing on the opposite side of the runway. The plane was slowing, Vance not using the thrust reversers in deference to the crowds standing at the edge of the tarmac. Dog sat up and sneezed, and I took advantage of the moment to step into the cockpit.

  The display was even more impressive from the front where I could see the extra-long stretch of asphalt extending into the distance. For as far as it went, flags waved, and people seemed to be cheering.

  “Guess
all the ladies of Oahu heard I was coming back,” Vance said.

  “See a lot of husbands out there. You might want to stay on the plane,” I said, earning a chuckle from the pilot.

  A few hundred yards ahead a large group stood to the side, clustered around several Humvees. Next to them was a set of truck mounted air stairs and an ambulance with flashing roof lights. A man in an Air Force uniform was standing in the center of the runway, wearing a pair of bright orange gloves that extended to his elbows. Vance slowed us to taxi speed, then followed his directions until we were brought to a full stop. He cut the engines, and they spooled down with a whine that descended the scale to a low groan before going silent.

  Quickly, there was a pounding on the cabin door, and Nitro popped it open. Fresh sea air flooded into the plane, flushing out the funk of fighting men who haven’t had a shower in far too long. Two Air Force enlisted stood on the air stairs, looking in curiously as the door swung fully open.

  “Wounded first,” I said.

  “How many, sir?” The senior of the two asked.

  “Two,” I said. “Get litters.”

  He turned away and raised a radio to his mouth to relay the request.

  “Fuck that,” Vance said. “I can walk.”

  “No, you don’t!” Rachel had come up behind me. “The more you walk, the more stress you put on your… injury. Just lay back and do what I tell you.”

  Vance looked at her and grinned.

  “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that, sweetie!”

  “Call me sweetie again, and I’ll finish the job they started,” Rachel said, smiling at him.

  “Long as you’re gentle,” Vance said.

  Thankfully, two pairs of Air Force corpsman arrived at that moment with the requested litters. Irina hovered as Goose and I carefully loaded Igor and tightened the straps. Two of the medics stepped forward to carry him, but Goose shooed them away. He and Johnson lifted the big Russian and carefully made their way through the open door and onto the stairs, Irina close behind.