Caldera 9: From The Ashes

by Stallcup, Heath

  Carol squeezed her tighter. “One day at a time.” Kelly continued sobbing while Carol cradled her.

  Simon walked through the barren parking lot and stared into the sky. “How many do you think will snap out of it tonight?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve no idea.”

  Simon paused and turned to her. “Are we still speaking Quee?”

  She shook her head. “I heard the older folks inside and they’re still grunting and hooting at each other. I couldn’t understand a word they said.”

  “Great,” Simon moaned. “Let’s hope they don’t try to strike up a conversation.”

  He leaned against a dead car and she sidled up next to him. “So your name is ‘Simon’? Or was that something another Quee called you?”

  He nodded slowly. “And you are?”

  She smiled at him playfully. “Yours, remember?”

  “What do I call you? Or do you like being ‘hey you with the tits?’”

  She rolled her eyes and glanced away. “Lana.”

  Simon nodded. “I like that. It rolls off the tongue.”

  She shook her head. “I never cared for it.”

  He turned her to face him and gave her a soft smile. “This is a new beginning, remember? We survived a mass extinction. We came out on top.”

  “It doesn’t change the past.” She looked up at him and sighed. “Do you remember anything that I told you before you passed out?”

  “You killed a bad guy.” He raised a brow at her. “I’m a bad guy.”

  She nodded knowingly. “I’m certain.” She pointed a dirty finger at him. “Just don’t be bad to me and I’ll let you wake up each morning.”

  Simon gave her a crooked smile. “Deal.”

  11

  Buck nearly fell out of bed when Hatcher banged on his door. He scrambled across the floor, pulling his clothes on and mumbling at the same time. “I’m coming.”

  “Meet me in the dining room.”

  Buck tripped over his pants and fell to the floor. He saw the shadow of booted feet walking away from the door and he collapsed, his energy drained.

  “You going after Simon?” Skeeter asked.

  Buck rolled over and came to his knees. “That’s the plan.” He pulled his shirt over his head then slid each leg into his jeans. “We’re gonna try to lure them to the door, and if he pops his ugly head up, we remove it for him.”

  “What makes you think he’ll show himself?”

  Buck tugged his boots on then spun on the floor and faced her. “He’s too stupid. His pride will have him right out front.”

  Skeeter sat up, the bed sheet falling from her shoulders. “Just promise me you’ll be careful, okay?”

  Buck crawled to her on hands and knees and kissed her gently. “Of course I’ll be careful. I have too much to come home to.”

  He gave her another quick smooch then gathered his things. He slipped through the door as quietly as he could and trotted to the dining hall.

  Hatcher was already seated, a large mug of coffee and a lumberjack breakfast spread before him. “Early bird and all that,” he said as he forked eggs into his mouth.

  “I think I’ll just grab something light.” Buck went through the line then returned with juice and toast. “Are we the first ones through?”

  Hatcher shrugged. “I doubt it.” He nodded out to the courtyard where a small group of men were already working on the fire damaged roof.

  “Do you have an actual plan of attack?”

  Hatcher sipped the coffee and shook his head. “Honk until Simon shows himself then put a bullet in his brain.”

  Buck shrugged. “Works for me.”

  “Did you think I was gonna let you go after him by yourselves?” Both men turned to see Hank approaching the table. “I want a piece of this action.”

  “Fuel up then,” Hatcher said. “We leave as soon as you suck down breakfast.”

  “No killing on an empty stomach, huh?” Hank turned and headed for the steam tables.

  Hatcher glanced down at his food then noticed Charlie entering the dining hall. “You too? Or am I to believe this is all a coincidence?”

  Charlie smiled sheepishly. “Hank thought that if we caught you before you left, you wouldn’t tell us no.”

  “He knows me too well.” Hatcher gave Buck a knowing look then nodded to Charlie. “You two gear up when you’re done here. We leave as soon as you’re loaded.”

  Charlie gave him a mock salute then went for the coffee.

  “Do we really need this many people to kill one man?” Buck asked, his voice low.

  Hatcher met his gaze and smiled. “You can feel free to stay here. I’m sure Will has a number of jobs you could help with.”

  Buck shook his head. “Not just no, but…” He trailed off. “Remember who tracked him to the grocery in the first place.”

  Hatcher nodded. “Yeah. Me. You were just tagging along.” He set his fork down and sighed. “We could probably use a few extra sets of eyes. Just in case they aren’t as afraid of the sunlight as they used to be.”

  Buck’s brows narrowed. “What does that mean?”

  Hatcher set his fork down and sighed. “Roger and I encountered a Zulu, except she wasn’t a Zulu any more. She was making her way home.”

  “So the cure is working?” Buck asked hopefully.

  Hatcher shrugged. “I want to say yes. But I’m not ready to jinx anything yet.” He took another sip of coffee then pushed his plate away. “Let’s just say that she was improved.”

  “So there’s a chance that the sun won’t keep them cornered in the store.”

  Hatcher nodded. “Which might work to our advantage. We go there and wake them up, and if Simon gets riled enough, he’ll come to us. We won’t have to worry about the others so much.”

  Buck smiled in approval then downed his juice. “I’m ready.” He stood and turned for the door.

  Hatcher picked up his tray and took it to the trash cans. “Ah, to be young and stupid again.”

  Broussard startled awake and blinked rapidly in the early morning sun. He fumbled with the headset and keyed the mic. “Where are we?”

  “Close.” Miller sat across from him, his face painted with fear. “I don’t know how you can sleep on these things.”

  The chop of the blades overhead was only overpowered by the roar of the turbine engine. Broussard gave him a slight shrug. “Why worry about what you can’t change?” He glanced at his watch then peered out of the window. “We’re not going inland?”

  Miller pointed ahead of them. “We have to go up the coast first. Not much further.”

  Broussard laid his head back and closed his eyes. Although the helicopter flight should have been his foremost concern, he was worried about Dr. Chaplain. She had only been left to her own devices for a few days, but it was entirely too long, in his opinion.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Miller stated as if reading his thoughts.

  Broussard turned to him. “She’s quite capable.” He looked through the window again then settled back in his seat.

  “Remember, we have a thirty-six hour window.” Both men turned to look at the soldier speaking. “Skipper says if we’re not back within that time frame, don’t bother to return.”

  Broussard frowned. “Why would he say that?”

  “They’re not sending out rescue parties. They can’t afford to lose the resources.”

  Broussard gave Miller a confused look. “But why say not to bother returning?”

  “Captain’s orders.” The soldier gave him a stern stare. “So when we say wrap it up, it means wrap it up right then. We’ll give you as much time as we can, but once that clock ticks down, there’s no leeway. Understood?”

  Broussard nodded and Miller gave the man a thumbs up. “Understood.”

  “Twenty mikes,” the pilot announced. “That’s assuming there’s a clearing large enough to land at the university.”

  Broussard smiled. “Plenty of parking lots. Shouldn’t be a prob
lem.”

  The soldier made a motion with his hands and the others seemed to come alive. “Grab your rucks and hug your nuts. We’re going in.”

  Simon led Lana across the parking lot and toward a block of rundown houses. “Come on.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “We’re going shopping.” He gave her a crooked grin. “Sort of.”

  The pair crossed the lot and began walking along the sidewalk. “Let’s try this one.”

  She followed him through a rusty chain linked gate and across a yard of tall, dead grass. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. “I’m assuming it’s clear.” He glanced around the room, layers of dust coating everything. “You’d think if there were any Quee living here, they would have crossed the street to check out the party.”

  “What are we doing here?” Lana asked. “Are we moving in?”

  He shook his head. “Hell no. Even I wouldn’t live in a dump like this.” He crossed the living room and entered the narrow hallway.

  Lana stayed close, her eyes scanning for any possible sign of trouble. “Simon, just tell me what—”

  “Here we go.” He pushed the bedroom door open farther and waved her in.

  “Ooh. We’re moving up from the dog food bags, eh?” She laughed as she bounced on the springy mattress.

  “We could.” He gave her an impish grin. “But I had something else in mind.” He tugged at her arm with his good hand and lifted her to her feet. He gave her a steamy look. “Take off your clothes.”

  Lana chuckled as she began to peel her tattered clothing off. “I knew you were up to no good.”

  “I’m good.” He gave her a hurt look. “Well, I can be good at it.”

  She watched him step aside and pull open a closet door. “I promised you clothes.”

  Her face fell as he began pulling ladies clothing from the closet rod. “Find something that suits your taste.” He held up what looked like an oversized nightgown. “If you can.”

  She lifted a pair of lime-colored pants with an elastic waistband. “I don’t think so.” She tossed them aside and picked up another. “These would fall off of me.”

  Simon raised a brow then stepped out of the room. “Over here.”

  She followed him out and saw him holding another door open. “This looks like a teenager’s room.” She frowned at the posters and mementos stuck to the walls. “I’m probably too old for these as well.”

  He chuckled as he dumped clothes from the closet. “But they’re probably a lot closer to your size.”

  She lifted a pair of jeans and held them to her hips. “Hey…” She slipped them on and began to laugh. “They fit around the middle, but…” She pointed down. They barely covered her knees.

  He gave her a shrug. “It’s better than what you had.”

  She had to agree.

  Lana glanced through the open door and stepped out of the room. Simon’s head whipped around. “Where you going? Are they that bad?”

  She pushed open the bathroom door and twisted the knob on the sink.

  Nothing.

  She sighed as she reentered the room. “New clothes. I just thought I’d clean up a bit first.”

  Simon held a finger up. “Hold on. I spotted something in the kitchen.”

  He disappeared for a moment then returned with a gallon jug of water. “Sponge bath?” Her eyes lit up as she reached for it. “There’s a couple more in there if you need them.”

  She soaked a washcloth and stood in the dirty tub, scrubbing away months of filth. Simon brought a second jug and grabbed a hand towel from the bar. He soaked the small towel and began to wash her back. She stiffened slightly and he whispered, “I didn’t know if you could reach.”

  She turned to face him and gave him an approving nod. “You could use a good scrubbing too.”

  “Maybe later. This is your time.”

  She continued to wash and glanced over her shoulder. She caught her reflection in the mirror and froze. “I knew it was bad, but…”

  Simon stepped between her and the mirror and shook his head. “New beginning, remember? Let go of the past.”

  She tugged gently at the wisps of hair clinging to her scalp. “Do you think it will grow back?”

  He gave her a slight shrug. “No idea.” He suddenly brightened. “But, what say we get rid of it? Until it starts to grow back, I mean.”

  She gave him a concerned stare. “You mean…cut it off?”

  He smiled. “Not just cut.” He dug through the medicine cabinet and removed a disposable razor. “I say, go all the way.”

  Lana raised a brow at him. “Seriously?”

  “Why not?” He leaned closer and wagged his eyebrows at her. “I think you’d look hot.”

  Lana blew her breath out slowly and reached for the razor. “Find me some shaving cream.”

  12

  Hatcher rode in silence as Buck navigated the abandoned city streets. He glanced to the rear and saw the red hatchback following closely.

  “They couldn’t just ride with us?” Buck asked.

  “Hank was afraid we’d all be walking if we took one car.” He glanced at Buck. “The Zulus did kill a flatbed.”

  Buck grinned as he drove. “Momma always told me that I had to eat what I killed.” He glanced at Hatcher, his smile widening. “I’m picturing those nutjobs chewing on a truck tire.”

  “Plenty of fiber.” Hatcher pointed ahead of them. “Go up another block. Let’s approach them from the side. Maybe we won’t get as many arrows shot at us.”

  Buck stared down the road leading to the front of the grocery as he crossed through the intersection. “I couldn’t see anything.”

  “It’s too far,” Hatcher commented as they approached the next intersection. “Cut across here.” He glanced to the rearview mirror and noted that the red car was still behind them.

  Buck slowed the truck and parked it across the street from the grocery store. “Do you think they heard us?”

  Hatcher shrugged. “Not if they were inside.” He glanced at the early morning sun and could imagine that the rays were just the right angle to wash the front of the store with plenty of light. “I doubt any of them will be pissing out the front door this early. Not unless they want to sunburn their pecker.”

  Buck opened the truck door and reached across the steering wheel to grab the shotgun. He slipped a bandolier of shells over his shoulder and jacked a round into the 12 gauge. “I’m ready.”

  “Slow your roll, Rambo.” Hatcher opened the back door and lifted out the short-barreled M4. He buckled the utility belt to his waist and began loading magazines into the pouches.

  “You think there’s that many in there?” Hank asked as he approached the truck.

  “Ammo is like condoms, Hank,” Hatcher muttered.

  Charlie smiled. “Better to have it and not need it than not have it and be forced to pull out.”

  All three men turned and stared at him. Buck snorted. “I don’t think that’s exactly how it goes.”

  Charlie shrugged as he racked a round into his AR. “Still applies, though.” He patted his vest and the numerous magazines loaded in the pouches. “I’m ready for either scenario.”

  Hank fought the urge to slap him upside the head and turned to Hatcher. “How do you want to do this?”

  Hatcher braced the rifle over his shoulder and studied the store. “The smell was horrific yesterday.”

  “Amen to that,” Buck muttered.

  “How about you two cover the back. We’ll enter the front and if you hear gunshots, come in and we’ll pinch them in the middle.”

  Charlie raised his hand. “And if we don’t hear gunshots?”

  Hatcher glanced to Buck. “Then I guess that means they got the drop on us and you boys should run as fast as you can.”

  Charlie swallowed hard as Hatcher and Buck angled toward the front of the store. Hank slapped at his chest as he walked by. “Step it up, condom boy. The girl of your dreams may be in there.”

&
nbsp; Broussard held on to the ‘oh shit’ handle as the chopper bounced twice before settling solidly to the ground. He felt his stomach lurch on him, but he kept its contents intact. The door slid open and the soldiers poured out, scattering into a semi-circle, each man covering an area with their rifles.

  Dr. Miller stepped out of the chopper and bent low as he scurried away from the rotating blades. Andre knew that the helicopter blades were well above his head, but fear overrode his intellect and he ducked as well, following him.

  “Do you know where she was?” Miller yelled over the noise of the craft.

  Broussard turned a slow circle, his mind trying to recall the layout of the campus. He pointed to a multistory building to their right. “There. I’m almost positive.”

  Miller patted the soldier’s shoulder and pointed to the building. “There.”

  The soldier made motions with his hand and the others formed up on him. If they were communicating verbally, it was through radio and quietly. They took off at a quick walk in standard, two by two formation, with four men leading the academics and three men covering their rear.

  Broussard fought the urge to run ahead and find Dr. Chaplain. He had worried over her constantly since the military had removed him from the campus. He watched as the men rounded the corner of the building and he immediately recognized the entrance. “This is the one. I’m sure.”

  The soldiers stacked on the entrance then breached, each man covering a specific sector as they made their way to the stairwell. “Third floor, correct?”

  Broussard nodded. “It might be best if I were the first person she saw.”

  The soldier sneered at him. “You really want to run point in an unknown area with those things still out and about?”

  Broussard gasped slightly as the idea registered. He shook his head nervously. “She’ll adapt.”

  “I thought so.” The soldier spun and gripped the man’s shoulder ahead of him, squeezing. Instantly the team was entering the stairwell, silently climbing the steps.