8
Hatcher shot up in his bed, his head snapping to attention. “What? Who’s that?”
Buck held a hand up to calm him. “Easy. It’s just me.”
Hatcher threw his legs off the edge of the bed and held his head in his hands. “I was dreaming we were under attack again.”
“Well…we aren’t.” Buck seemed to squirm as he stood in the doorway. “But Hank and Charlie are in a bit of a pickle.”
Hatcher’s head popped up and he stared at the younger man. “What happened?”
“They radioed in and said that they were attacked by somebody shooting arrows at them.” Buck’s mouth formed a thin line. “At the Albertsons.”
“Son of a…” Hatcher groaned as he came to his feet. “Anybody hurt?”
“The truck was killed. They’re on foot, and of course, the battery is about dead on their radio.”
Hatcher tugged his boots on and cursed under his breath. “I thought Stanton got the batteries replaced.”
“It seems he’s been a bit busy what with getting the well working and wiring us up with solar power and fixing the surveillance cameras and creating a greenhouse and hydroponics system and overseeing the repairs and—”
“Yeah, yeah. I got ya.” Hatcher stood fully erect and shook his head slightly, trying to shake the cobwebs of sleep from his mind. “I need coffee.”
“Will’s got people working on structural repairs after the fires. Hank and another team went out for supplies. I guess they made a detour.”
“Anybody gone after them yet?”
Buck shook his head. “Nobody available.”
“Send Roger.” Hatcher froze and gave Buck a solemn stare. “Scratch that.”
“Brain fart?”
“I guess I’m too used to relying on the same people.” Hatcher pushed open the door to his office and poured the remains of the coffee put into a tumbler. “I reckon it’s you and me, kid.”
“I’m driving,” Buck announced.
“Like hell.”
Buck turned and gave Hatcher a flat stare. “You’re not even awake yet. If it’s all the same, I’d like to get there in one piece.” He snatched the keys from the holder and pushed out through the rear office door. “Besides, I was supposed to have got my license, if I agreed to my dad’s crazy plan of vacationing in Yellowstone.” He shot Hatcher a wink. “We can consider this my driving test.”
Hatcher stared at him open mouthed. “You don’t have a license?”
Buck laughed as he opened the door of the pickup and climbed in. “I won’t tell the cops if you don’t.”
Hatcher groaned as he opened the passenger door. “Do you at least know where we’re going?”
Buck started the truck and put it into gear. “The same store we tracked Simon to. We can look for a big flatbed truck along the way. If we see two guys running for their lives, we can probably bet it’s them.”
Hatcher took a drink of the cold coffee and winced. “Don’t be a smartass.”
“Better than being a dumbass.”
Hatcher gave him a dubious look. “You seem awfully chipper for somebody who got as little sleep as I did.”
Buck grinned widely. “I never got any sleep.” He glanced next to him and smiled wider. “Let’s just say Skeeter was happy to see me.”
Hatcher winced. “I do not want to hear that.” He sighed and stared out of the side window. “In my mind she’s still a kid.”
Buck nodded slowly. “Before the world went to hell, we both were.” He sighed as he continued to navigate the pickup. “Now, we’re probably considered middle aged.”
Carol felt her entire body begin to tremble as Kelly worked her way down the stairs and slipped out the front doors. From the angle of the window, she couldn’t see her approach the pair rifling through the garbage, but she knew that she must be close.
The pair suddenly stiffened; their heads snapped towards the front of the building. They both came to their feet and slowly began to back away. For a brief moment, Carol hoped that they would spook and run, assuming that Kelly was dangerous. And really, wasn’t she?
The pair slowed their retreat and Carol felt her guts tighten. Kelly appeared at the edge of her line of sight and she watched as her hand outstretched and pointed up towards the lab. Carol pulled the poster back farther and stood plainly in the window.
When both turned and looked up at her, she forced a smile and a small wave. “Here I am. Come and eat me,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
The pair began to back up again and Kelly stopped her approach. Carol strained to listen but she spoke so softly that she couldn’t make out what was being said. The pair glanced up at the window again then turned and ran.
Carol stared open-mouthed and glanced to Kelly, who stood her ground and seemed to deflate a bit. She looked up at the window and shook her head then turned, shoulders slumped, and disappeared from Carol’s view.
Carol pressed the poster back into place and shakily took her seat at the workbench. She waited until Kelly returned then asked, “You secured the doors on your way back?”
Kelly nodded. “Of course. We don’t want a repeat of what happened before.” She pushed the door shut and Carol heard her turn the lock.
“Did they say anything?”
“Nope. They just stared at me like I was nuts, then turned tail.” She straddled the stool at the workbench and sighed. “Sorry, doc. I know they probably could have helped your research.”
Carol waved her off. “There will be plenty more, I’m sure.” She inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly. “In all honesty, I’m a bit relieved.”
“Oh?”
She looked up and gave her a sheepish smile. “One more? I could probably handle that. But two more?” She chuckled. “My nerves would be shot.”
Kelly raised a brow at her. “Two more?” Her gaze narrowed slightly. “What do you mean by that?”
Carol gave her a confused look. “Just that…” She paused, trying to think of a non-threatening response. “With two more subjects to monitor? It would be too easy to confuse samples.” She gave her a weak smile. “Too many subjects to try to keep straight.”
Kelly nodded, her face still stoic. “Yeah. I can see that.” She turned slowly and walked to the break room.
Carol watched her lie down on the couch; she could feel her cheeks flushing from the obvious lie. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Truth is, you scare the hell out of me on your own. The thought of two more potential killers in close proximity scares the shit out of me.
She opened her eyes and startled as Kelly was standing directly in front of her. “If I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it already.”
Carol swallowed hard and blinked at her. “I wasn’t…” She felt her jaw trembling. “I didn’t think…”
“Yes you did.” Kelly gave her a condescending look and shook her head. “Those two gals were too timid to hurt a fly.” She turned back for the break room. “But not to worry, doc. You’re safe in here and they’re stuck out there in a dying world.”
Simon leaned against the counter and watched as the truck backed away, the two men inside escaping with their lives. “If you had just waited, you’d be eating them right now,” he scoffed.
The hunter turned and gave him an angry stare then almost immediately bowed his head. “Apologies.”
“Were you going to go out into the sunlight to get the food?” Simon asked, fighting the urge to slap him upside his head.
The hunter hung his head lower.
“Yeah. I didn’t think so.” He inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly. “Now we have to make more arrows.”
An older Quee approached the pair. “We will make arrows once the sun goes down.” He pointed to the other elders. “They are quick.”
“See that you do,” Simon barked as he turned back for his dog food mattress. He paused and glanced down the aisle where the brown liquor was and found himself marching toward the pain-dulling liquid. He pulled a bot
tle from the shelf and fought with the cap.
His eyes scanned the building; he could feel that he was missing something. It was as if the lizard part of his brain was screaming something at him that should have been second nature.
He took a pull from the bottle and walked slowly toward the rear corner of the store. He stood in front of the pharmacy and sucked at his teeth while the synapses of his brain tried to connect dots that hadn’t been connected in a very long time.
He found himself opening the half door that led to the rear of the pharmacy, and he stood staring at the rows of pill bottles on the shelf. “There’s something here. I can almost…”
He sighed and slowly walked through the short aisles of shelves. His eyes scanned the numerous bottles and he took another pull from the bottle, wishing that his damned arm would quit throbbing.
Simon paused at the end of the aisle and stared at a rather large, white, plastic bottle. He set the liquor down and picked up the plastic jug. His eyes could see the letters and they looked familiar. “What the hell does this mean?” he whispered.
The last female appeared by his side and took the jug from his hand. She ran her finger along the letters and looked at him. “Hy-dro-co…done?”
Simon nodded slowly, the connections in his brain making sense of the words. He took the jug from her and pried the lid off. He inhaled deeply and his animal senses relayed memories that he had forgotten.
Simon smiled as he fished out a small handful of the pills and chewed them rapidly. “I know this.” He continued to chew then washed the paste down with the liquor. “These are good.” He nodded to her.
She reached into the bottle and withdrew a single tablet. She slipped it into her mouth and bit down before spitting it to the floor. “Ugh. Not good.”
Simon smiled wider. “Yes. Good.” He took the jug from her and tucked it under his arm. He picked up his liquor bottle and walked back out to the store.
He set both down next to the dog food bag then stretched out. As she settled in next to him, he pulled her closer. “You can read the letters?”
She nodded slightly, her back to him.
“You remember, too?” He could feel her breathing next to him but she refused to respond. He nudged her. “You remember?”
She nodded slightly. “Some.”
“Tell me.” His voice was soft as he reached out to her.
She rolled over and stared at him. “I see things. Small things.” She averted her gaze and breathed deeply. “From before.”
Simon nodded as the mix of pain killers and alcohol began to numb him. “Tell me about your life. In the before.”
She snuggled up under his good arm and wrapped a leg over him. “It was...bad.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Bad things.”
“Before?”
She nodded. “I killed him.”
Simon relished the familiar warmth as it pulled him towards unconsciousness. “A lot of Quee killed. It’s who we are now.”
She shook her head. “I killed him in the before.” She glanced to him to see if he disapproved. His eyes were closed and he was breathing rhythmically. “He was bad.”
Simon didn’t respond and she settled her head against him, listening to his heart beat. She closed her eyes and tried to push the violent images out of her head.
9
Hatcher slapped at the center console and pointed to the right. “Over there.”
“Is that them?”
“It better be.” Hatcher sat up taller in the seat and watched as the two men slowed their trot to a walk, the larger one resting his arms atop his head. “Looks like Hank got all the aerobics he’ll want for a while.”
Buck slowed the truck and Hatcher leaned out the window. “You ladies need a ride?”
“They shot arrows at us, Hatch,” Hank huffed as he pulled the rear doors open. “We’re pretty sure it’s some of the same group that attacked us.”
Hatcher nodded and glanced at Buck. “If you were at the Albertsons, then yeah. We tracked them to the store this morning.”
Hank stared at him open mouthed. “And you didn’t think to warn the rest of us because…why exactly?”
Hatcher sighed and shook his head. “We were planning to hit them tomorrow morning.”
“If they didn’t try something stupid again tonight,” Buck added.
“Great.” Hank pouted. “We nearly got our asses shot off because you two didn’t think to let us know to avoid them.”
Charlie leaned forward, speaking over the drone of the engine. “Why don’t we go back and just get it over with? Kill ‘em all and let God sort ‘em out.”
Hatcher raised a brow at Buck. “Because, as the young man trying to drive noted, the only Zulu that we know deserves a death sentence is Simon.”
“Simon is in that bunch?” Hank’s voice went up an octave. “And you just came back to the hacienda and pretended you didn’t know nothing? And since when do we give a shit about Zulus?”
Buck stared at the man through the rearview mirror. “If this cure pans out, then those people will be back to their right minds in no time. As of right now, their only crime is being infected with a rage virus.”
“Screw that nonsense,” Hank stated firmly. “They’ve killed people. Probably some of ours, to boot.” He shook his head at the young man. “The only good Zulu is a dead Zulu.”
“Regardless, Simon is our target,” Hatcher stated firmly. “If the others come around and get cured, the better for rebuilding humanity.”
Hank sank low in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “Humanity can suck it,” he muttered. He glared at the back of Hatcher’s head. “You really mean to tell me that we’re going to pin the future of mankind on a bunch of Zulus getting ‘cured’ and taking their place in society?”
Hatcher nodded. “We don’t know what skills those people can bring to the table.”
Charlie looked at Hank and shrugged. “He’s got a point.”
“They’re infected, Hatcher. They attacked us last night and nearly burned us all out.”
“But they didn’t,” Hatcher replied. “And if the cure works and—”
“That’s a pretty big ‘if’ there, dontcha think?” Hank leaned forward and tried to lower his voice. “I don’t mean to be butting heads with ya, boss, but it wasn’t that long ago that we would snuff any Zulu we came across. Now you want to give this bunch a pass, the very day after they tried to kill us all?”
Hatcher nodded. “Think about it, Hank.” He turned in his seat and eyed the man cautiously. “What if there are only tiny handfuls of survivors like us spread out there? What if, heaven forbid, we are it?” He shook his head slowly. “We need all the people we can save if we’re ever going to recover from Mother Nature’s foot in the ass.”
Hank ground his teeth and sat back, staring out the window. “I still don’t like it.”
“Neither do I.” Hatcher turned back to face the front. “But for now, it’s the plan.”
“Our mission is a go,” Miller said matter-of-factly.
Broussard dropped the pen he held and stared at him. “Seriously?”
Miller nodded and began to stack files. “And of course, we will be under armed surveillance the entire time.”
“Understandable precaution.” He wondered if the “armed” part was to keep him from running again or simply for their protection. “When do we leave?”
“First thing in the morning.” Miller stuffed the files into the cabinet then turned and gave him a solemn stare. “But I have bad news, as well.”
Broussard sat back and nodded to him. “Go on.”
“Your friend…Kevin?” Miller shook his head slightly. “The captain has decided that he should be eliminated.”
“You mean killed.”
Miller nodded. “Of course. He did, after all, kill two crewmen and attempted to eat one of them.”
Broussard shook his head. “He could still be useful as a test subject.”
“I thought so a
s well, but the captain is adamant. He will allow us to take as much blood and tissue samples as you think necessary.”
“But he won’t consider keeping the man alive?”
Miller sat down gently and studied the large Frenchman. “You hope to save him still?”
Broussard sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair. “The thought had crossed my mind.”
“And if he can’t be saved?”
“I’d know that I tried.”
Miller thought for a moment before slowly shaking his head. “I don’t think the captain can be swayed on this one. Our resources are running dangerously low.”
“I understand, but Kevin is only one man.”
Miller slowly came to his feet. “I don’t think they consider him a man any longer.” He glanced at the monitor of McAlester beating his forehead against the steel wall. “He’s little more than a human shark. A mindless killing machine.”
Broussard stared at the image on the monitor and as much as he hated to, he agreed with the simplistic description.
“How will they do it?”
Miller shrugged. “Probably a bullet to the brain. Throw the body overboard. I really don’t know.”
Broussard shook his head as he began to pack the files he’d need for the field trip. “I hope they take precautions. He could still possibly transmit the virus.”
Miller stood and began to pack his own materials. “I’m sure they’ll take that into consideration. In the meantime, we have a trip to ready ourselves for.”
Broussard glanced at the screen one last time then thought of Carol. He found himself smiling as he reached out and turned off the monitor.
Simon stirred slightly then nearly screamed as he rolled onto his wounded arm. He sat up instantly and his head swam from the painkiller-whiskey combo. He cradled the wounded arm and slapped at the floor beside him, searching for the pills.
They suddenly appeared, hovering in front of his face. He glanced up and the lone female shook the bottle. He took it from her and fished out a few. He tossed a couple into his mouth and chewed them while his eyes scanned the store. “The sun is still up.” He washed down the pills then turned to her. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
Caldera 9: From The Ashes Page 5