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First Wave Series Box Set (Books 1-3)

Page 26

by JT Sawyer


  Travis lowered his brown pack, which was cumbersome with the addition of the metallic vaccine case. He arched his head back and stared up at the walls, then walked around the interior. The white sand beneath his boots was like fine talcum powder and easily revealed the tracks of rodents and lizards. On the wall to his left were the faint impressions of ancient pictographs. The prehistoric tapestry showed red ochre handprints, deer-like figures, and creatures that seemed to be half-bird and half-human.

  “What is this place? Some kind of shrine?” said Katy.

  “This is like some of the cliff dwellings I showed you on our trip through the Grand Canyon—it’s all connected with the ancient Anasazi who lived here over a thousand years ago,” said Pete. “This was probably their wall calendar and each one of those handprints symbolized the clans that occupied this region. At least that’s what my Hopi friends have told me about these kinds of places.”

  “I thought this was Navajo land?”

  Pete had removed his tattered hat and was scratching his head. “Most of northeastern Arizona is ancestral Hopi land. They’ve been here for over one hundred generations. The Navajos arrived in the Southwest around 1490, so most of the ruins belong to the ancestors of the Hopi. The Navajos have strict taboos about going into such places, so many of these cave sites out here are still pretty well preserved.”

  Travis continued walking along the rock face until he was back by the entrance, where a large cottonwood tree stood. “Why don’t we gather up some dead branches and we can have a small campfire tonight at the back of the cave, away from the wind. After that, I suggest you think about where you’re going to sleep tonight and pick out a cozy patch of sand—keeping in mind that you should stay away from any rock piles to avoid scorpions.”

  Travis went back towards the opening and looked out through the bowl-shaped entrance. The helicopter was nearly obscured and their tracks obliterated. Not going to be much moving around in this tonight. Maybe we’ll get a good night’s sleep for a change, he thought. As he turned around he saw Rob standing by the rock-art panel staring at him, then the man averted his gaze and walked away.

  Travis retrieved his pack and headed over to Katy and Pete. “Hey, do you guys know anything about that dude, Rob?”

  They both looked over Travis’s shoulder at the man, who was walking over by the opposite side of the cave, picking up pieces of firewood.

  “Nope,” said Katy. “I saw him get on the helo about the same time as the rest of us. I haven’t seen him before today.”

  “Yeah, me neither. I was asleep through most of the flight,” said Pete.

  “Hmm, still—there’s something about him I can’t nail down,” Travis said, looking at Rob.

  “Geez, my man—it’s one day after the battle and you just can’t flick the off switch on being hyper-vigilant,” said Pete. “I’d say ease up some. Besides, we’ve got your back.”

  Travis shifted his eyes to his friends. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, letting out a sigh. “Besides, Crawford wouldn’t send anyone along he didn’t trust.”

  Chapter 26

  Logan and his team had spent the night in an abandoned grocery store directly across from the hotel and a few hundred feet from their Blackhawk. While the rest of his team was still asleep, he and Talia were using their shift on guard duty to pore over the solar-charged laptop that he brought on missions. His staff at the headquarters in Montrose had sent him the files he had requested. They were scanning an old personnel record for retired Lt. Colonel Thomas Crawford.

  “Looks like he was one of us in younger days—knee deep in covert ops in South and Central America until his retirement,” said Talia, whose black hair was draped over the neckline of her tactical vest.

  “That was nearly twenty years ago though,” said Logan. “Still, he’s probably a good guy to be holding the reins on such a makeshift band of fighters,” he said, finishing off the last of his MRE pouch of beef stroganoff. “When I was in the hotel with him yesterday, I saw a couple of his people working on a silver laptop that had the symbol for Pallas Biosytems on it.”

  Talia stopped and looked up at him. “You don’t think they got a hold of Nikki’s laptop, do you?”

  “Who else? It has to be hers. She’s been connected with the Pallas group in Virginia all along. And while no one can prove a damn thing—I’m certain that the secretary of biodefense had his greasy paws deep into that company. Unfortunately, corporations have neither bodies to be punished nor souls to be damned,” Logan said, turning and looking out the window at the hotel across the street. “The good news is that Crawford’s people don’t have a chance in hell of cracking the decryption on that laptop unless they have some former-CIA computer sleuth on their team that I don’t know about.”

  “Give me some time and I’ll get the device out of their hands.”

  “Talia…Talia—you always like a strong show of force. That’s one of the things I cherish the most about you. In this case, though, I think I’ll just walk in the front door and ask Crawford for it,” Logan said, tossing the empty MRE pouch out of a shattered window.

  Talia raised her eyebrows, revealing a shocked look.

  “What—it’s not like we have to worry about pollution anymore.”

  Logan walked out the broken glass door of the building and into the street. The sun was just poking over the horizon and a slight breeze was shuffling leaves across the dusty fence line near the sidewalk. He entered the courtyard, where he was stopped by two armed ranchers. “I’d like to speak with Crawford, if he’s available.”

  “It’s OK, let him pass through,” shouted Crawford from an upstairs balcony. “I’ll meet him in the hallway downstairs.”

  Logan walked up the stone steps which led to the main lobby, then waited by the blue tiled wall to his right. Across the hallway, he saw a few dozen people gathered around tables finishing breakfast, and at the opposite end of the building there were cots arranged in rows, all of which held wounded men and women. The area gave off the strong clinical odor of bleach.

  He turned and saw Crawford coming down the steps. Logan extended his arm and shook the man’s hand. “Morning. I thought I’d see if we could talk some more.”

  “I reckon so,” Crawford said. “How did you all sleep last night in the old supermarket?”

  “I’ve slept in far worse places than that, so no complaints from me.”

  “Why don’t we go out on the back porch—we’ll have more privacy there.”

  The two men passed through a set of wooden double doors onto a covered veranda that overlooked some railroad tracks in the distance. They sat next to each other on a low concrete wall that served to separate the porch from what had once been a garden. “Are you and your people planning on staying another night?” said Crawford.

  “Look, I’ll cut to the chase. I know Travis was here and that he probably worked closely with you during the battle in Flagstaff. I can understand you wanting to protect one of your own, believe me.”

  Crawford folded his arms and turned his head, staring into Logan’s hazel eyes. “Go on.”

  “You asked how long we are going to stay—not long, I hope, because I need to get to Travis and Pearson and obtain the vaccine he has in his possession before the second wave strikes. That is my sole focus, so if you can provide me with his intended whereabouts, we can be on our way. We don’t have much time—the world doesn’t have much time—if we are going to turn this around.”

  “And how about those four Blackhawks that arrived in Flagstaff a few days back,” Crawford said. “How are those people connected with all of this?”

  “When the virus was originally developed, there was a failsafe built in, so if it fell into the wrong hands, it couldn’t be spread from human to human unless the final catalyst was introduced. Pearson was the one behind developing that piece of the puzzle,” he said, standing up and turning towards Crawford while continuing, “A rogue group of operatives obtained the virus and had one of their own re
searchers create a version similar to Pearson’s so they could unleash it upon the world. Only their strain brought unintended consequences.”

  “The RAMs,” Crawford said, clasping his hands together.

  “Yes, and perhaps even more mutations, once the second wave arrives. Even our scientists can’t predict what is going to happen with certainty, though there have already been worldwide reports of the RAMs getting faster and more aggressive. I’ve witnessed it myself.”

  “So these vaccines—let’s say they exist—are something you can use to replicate the original virus and create an antidote.”

  Logan tried to hold back a smirk at Crawford’s reluctance to reveal his intel. “That’s what I’m tasked with doing. I don’t know the science end of this but my sources tell me that getting those vaccines from Pearson is paramount.”

  As Crawford mulled over the information, one of his men burst through the doors onto the porch. “Sir, you’ve gotta come to the back fridge in the kitchen. There’s something you need to see.”

  The three men ran down the hallway and headed to the dining area to the right, then swung open the wooden door that led into the kitchen. Several people were standing around the large walk-in fridge with their shirt collars pulled up over their noses.

  Crawford pushed past the spectators and leaned his head past the metal door. The odor of decay was overpowering. “No!” he uttered, looking upon the dead body of a man lying against some shelving in the corner. His head was splattered on the silver walls from a single gunshot wound.

  “Who is he?” Logan said, looking over Crawford’s shoulder.

  Crawford pulled himself out of the fridge and staggered back into the kitchen, then back out through the double doors and into the courtyard. He took in a gasp of fresh air. “He was one of my men. He was supposed to have accompanied…” Crawford paused.

  “Accompanied Travis and Pearson on the Blackhawk?” Logan said with excitement.

  Crawford straightened up and thrust his chin forward, letting out a deep sigh. “According to Travis, Pearson died long before I met up with his group.”

  “What about the vaccine? Is he in possession of the vaccine?”

  Crawford squinted out at the clear blue sky over the Painted Desert, his jaw tightening while he balled his fist.

  Logan moved up next to him. “Why don’t you start from the beginning? And when we’re done, I’d like to have a look at that laptop you acquired.”

  Chapter 27

  The howling winds and blowing dust persisted throughout the night, whirling sand around the innards of the cave. The rustling of shriveled leaves on the cottonwood tree was the only other sound, causing Travis to drift in and out of sleep as dawn approached. In his stupor, his mind floated back to another place, years ago, in a similar setting. The images sliced through his consciousness, causing his heart to race. He recalled his hands and legs tied spread-eagle to a fence post under a large tree that fluttered in the wind. He could feel the coarse fabric of a dark hood over his head. The terror he felt was only slightly eclipsed by the burning sensation on the backs of his legs as an interrogator behind him smacked his bare skin with several rods of bamboo. Every few minutes, the honeysweet voice of a woman would say, “Darlin’, do you have any intel you wish to share?”

  Travis shook his head and tried to move his legs, but the pain was too intense, like a wildfire tearing through a parched forest. He took several deep breaths and tried to remember that the seven-day conduct-after-capture course would be over soon and his hostage-survival training would be complete. He just had to hold out until then.

  He could hear the woman walking around the front of him, then she grabbed his chin and jerked his head up. “If I wanted to break you, sugar, I would have done so by now. However, the new military protocols require me to stop short of that and just expose you to what could have been done in the hands of the enemy,” said the woman in a distinctive North Carolina accent. “I’m not an animal, you know—just a subject-matter expert in what makes people tick. Besides, I’m only trying to give you some skills that can one day help in your line of work.” She let go of his chin and took off his hood. The sunlight was blinding, as he had been in a dark metal box for the past two days. Once his eyes adjusted, he could see the woman clearly. Her muscular figure, the powder-blue eyes, and a tattoo of a red rose on her right bicep. She moved within inches of his face and fixed her gaze on his eyes. “I think you are finally ready for graduation. I want to thank you for being such a fertile subject so I could hone my skills further,” she said, moving closer as she grinned and then began laughing.

  He awoke from the nightmare with a violent turn of his head. He sat up, reaching for his pistol, and then realized where he was. “Nikki,” he whispered, glancing down at the goosebumps mottling his forearms. He took a deep breath, trying to find comfort in his surroundings and shaking the images from his mind. Sweat was rolling down his neck, causing a chill to run over his torso. He sat up and pulled on his boots along with an insulated jacket, trying not to wake Katy and Becka, who were asleep in their bags beside him.

  He stood up and pulled a boonie hat over his head, then walked up towards the cave entrance. Shafts of sunlight tinged the Painted Desert in the distance, framed by a backdrop of rock escarpments. He turned to check on the others. Tucked against a nearby sandstone wall was Pete, snoring, while Rachel and Nora were sleeping beside each other a few feet away. Karl and Rob were spread out towards the farthest recesses of the cave, each man sleeping by himself.

  The only one missing was Dane, but he was still on guard duty. Even though it was unlikely they would have any visitors during the night, Travis still had everyone take two-hour shifts, with Dane being the last sentry.

  A foot-high wave of sand had built up near the cave entrance and the landscape in the distance was replete with rippled dunes that had been reshaped since their arrival. A canyon wren landed on an upper branch of the cottonwood tree, its chirping amplified by the echo off the cave walls.

  Travis saw Dane’s tracks leading down to the Blackhawk and followed them down the slope. The tall blond was standing beside the rear service panel with his hands tucked into his belt, staring at the engine.

  Travis came up alongside him. “How’s it looking? Can we be in the air shortly?”

  “Only if you know how to get us more fuel—the tank is plum dry and one of the rear rotors is bent like a tree root.”

  “Huh—what do you mean? I thought you said this bird could take us all the way to southeast Utah before it needed refilling.”

  “Yeah, that’s right—but take a look at this,” Dane said, squatting and pointing to a small gash in the fuel tank underneath the rear of the helicopter.

  “Do you think that happened when we got hammered by those initial blasts of wind and debris?”

  “It’s possible, but you’d think one of us would have noticed a stream of fuel gushing out of the back when we were exiting.”

  “Frankly, I was pretty focused on getting everyone to the cave.”

  “Well, either way, we’re now the sole residents of the new town of We’re Fucked, population nine,” Dane said, looking up from under the scratched engine panel.

  Travis gazed beyond the rear of the Blackhawk to three mitten-shaped buttes miles away to the north. “How far is it to the nearest town from here and to Bluff, Utah?”

  “By the nearest town, you mean the closest Navajo tribal settlement, where they’re most likely heavily armed and wary of outsiders. That town would be Monument Valley, about twenty miles away. From there Bluff is another 40 or so miles as the crow flies, and Durango 120 miles beyond that.”

  “Shit! This is starting to feel like the end of my Colorado River trip all over again, except there’s a lot more fucking sand and a different menu.”

  “What do you want to do?” said Dane, blotting out the grease on his hands with some dried stalks of grass.

  “You stay here and strip out the helo of any essential equipme
nt that we can carry with us. I’ll gather the rest of the group and inform them of the situation. Then, we’ll grab our shit and be on our way, like Moses through the desert.”

  Chapter 28

  With their equipment packed up after a hasty breakfast, the group meandered out of the cave and met Dane by the Blackhawk. He was standing over a small cluster of gear: a sniper rifle, two metal cases of ammo, survival gear, group medical kit, assorted food, handheld radios, and several four-gallon water jugs.

  “Alright, don’t be shy, step right up and take your pick—this is all going with us on our exhilarating outback safari,” said the beefy pilot.

  Everyone began distributing the items and determining who would carry the water which, next to the ammo, was the heaviest. While the group was finishing packing, Travis and Dane had their compasses out and were triangulating their position on the topographic map spread out on the ground.

  “Looks like about nineteen miles to Monument Valley with mostly level terrain to deal with,” said Dane. “Kinda reminds me of the mind-numbing deserts I flew missions over in Iraq and Africa.”

  “Yep, sand and slickrock as far as the eye can see, with the wind and ravens as our constant companions,” said Travis. With his compass extended out in front of him, he shot a bearing off a distant butte. “Those geologic formations will be our first rest break, putting us about five miles out.”

  “Sounds good. I could go for an aboriginal walkabout. Should I wear my loincloth?” Dane chuckled.

 

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