Buck shook his head. “A friend of mine came in and covered the bodies before we brought Nick in.” He gave Matt a worried shrug. “I didn’t actually see anything.”
With dread trepidation, Matt pushed off the stucco wall and stepped back into the house. Buck hung back, unsure what to say or do. A moment later he heard the sobs again before something shattered.
Fearing the worst, he stepped into the house. “Mathew!” He watched as the man snatched everything in reach and threw it against the far wall. “MATHEW!”
Matt froze and turned to him, his attention temporarily diverted. “What?”
“Let’s not do anything stupid.” Buck stepped closer, his hands up. “Let’s lay them to rest. Then you can come with me.”
Mathew’s eyes narrowed. “Why would I do that?”
“Look, we have a community. Food, water, clothes…even electricity.” He held his hand out to him. “Just calm down a bit. I’ll tell you all about it.”
Mathew hung his head and slowly shook it. “I have my own place. He sniffed back tears again as he squared his shoulders. “You should go.” He wiped at his face then turned his back on Buck. “They’re my family. I’ll take care of it.”
Buck stepped forward again. “I don’t mind helping. That’s why I came.”
“Go.” Matt’s voice was barely a whisper, but he extended his arm and pointed towards the door. “Now.”
Buck sighed and stepped around the covered body. “If you change your mind, we’re at the assisted retirement home on—”
“GO!”
Buck bit back a curse and turned for the door. He stood in the entry from the dining room to the living room and paused. “Your parents would want you to survive this.” He glanced back at Matt. “Just like you would want Derek to.”
With that he turned and walked back out to the truck. He climbed inside and started the engine. For a moment he stared at the house and debated on going back inside. Mathew was too thin to be much of a threat.
Buck squeezed his eyes shut then put the truck in reverse. “You know where we’re at.”
Dr. Broussard lay on his narrow bed and stared at the ceiling. He grew weary of doing nothing and closed his eyes, praying that sleep would come and remove these awkward emotions that were plaguing him.
He had just gotten himself calmed down when a low frequency vibration could be felt through the ship. He sat up suddenly and stared at the door. He heard no sounds of panic, but it didn’t quell the fear rising in his chest.
He stood and reached for the knob. With nobody in the hall to interrogate, he began working his way forward and upward. He eventually came to a bustling area where men seemed to be hyper-focused on the tasks at hand.
He cautiously approached the closest sailor. “What’s going on? I heard a low rumbling below decks.”
The man gave him a quizzical stare. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.”
“Probably not, but we are a bit curious about what’s happening.”
The sailor glanced over his shoulder then turned back to Andre. “We’re heading to port. The field reports said that the cure works and we need to resupply.”
Broussard felt his brows rise. “All of the ships or just this one?”
“All except Navy One. The president will be staying at sea until we’re certain that it’s safe.”
Broussard rubbed at his chin as his mind worked. “Couldn’t you just radio ahead to check if it’s safe?”
The man gave him a tight-lipped shake of the head. “We lost radio contact with most of our land bases over a week ago.” He glanced over his shoulder again then lowered his voice. “We’re not sure if it’s because they lost power or…” He shrugged. “We’ll find out though.” He slid over and gently pushed Andre back. “You need to go back to whatever it is you do. You don’t want to be caught up here.”
Andre stepped back and turned slowly. Could it be possible that the military bases had been overrun? Were they heading back to a possible attack?
As he worked his way back to the lab, he remembered the streets when he and Dr. Chaplain had driven them. During daylight hours, they felt safe. It was only at night that the Zeds became problematic. Was that reversed now that they were exposed to the cure?
He pushed open the door to the lab and froze when he saw Carol again. “I was about to come looking for you. Do you any idea what’s going on?”
Andre nodded as he stepped inside. “They’re headed to port. Resupply us and check the area.”
Carol seemed to pale slightly. “I wonder if…”
“What?”
She shook her head. “I was just wondering if they would return you to France now that the worst is over.”
Broussard shrugged. “I’ve no idea.” He paused and glanced at the monitors that Kevin had been on. “But I’m not so sure that the worst is over.”
Simon tried not to stare at Lana as she went about her daily routine. He commented that she looked like her skin was beginning to tan a bit and she gave him a ‘duh’ look. “It’s from the sunburn, that’s all.”
He gave her a weak smile. “I have a feeling you’ll make a full recovery.”
She went about her morning rifling through supplies and pouring an ungodly amount of liquor down the drain. As she finished pouring the last bottle, she commented, “It’s a good thing we’re moving. This place smells like a distillery.”
Simon snorted. “Like that’s a bad thing.”
She gave him a deadpan stare. “From where I come from, yeah.”
As she prepared gear for the road, he stepped out onto the front porch. “We could just move to another house here.” She overheard him and met him outside. “Aren’t you afraid of your cager friends finding us?”
Simon shook his head. “It didn’t look like they’d been back.” He gave her an optimistic smile. “I doubt they would. They’d have no reason to.”
She sighed deeply, her mind trying to weigh the pros and cons. “It would be nice to have water.”
“I’m pretty sure the water towers are empty.”
“What about wells?”
He shrugged. “And how would we power them?”
She stared down the hill toward the Cager Compound. “How do they have power?”
Simon shrugged. “Solar? Wind? Something.”
“If they can do it, so could we.”
He pointed to his wounded arm. “Not any time soon.”
She gave him another ‘you’re an idiot’ look. “I’m not broken.”
“No, but I wouldn’t expect you to try to install a whole power system by yourself, either.”
She huffed and leaned on the porch column. “What about something less…permanent?”
“I’m not following you.”
Her mouth slowly curled into a smile. “Something mobile.”
“A mobile home?” Simon scrunched his brows at her. “We’d still have to hook up power.”
“I’m thinking something more like a Winnebago. Something with a generator.”
Simon grinned at her. “Yeah. Something that already has power.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “I think they can carry water, too.”
Simon nodded slowly. “And I happen to know a place here in town.” He turned and gave her a broad smile. “It’s not far, either.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” She turned and grabbed her jacket. “Let’s find us a Winnebago!”
21
“It’s like Vicky tried to tell me, Buck. We can’t save everyone.”
Buck sat up in his chair. “I felt so bad for the guy.”
“I understand.” Hatcher sighed as he sat back. “Look, we’ve had limited exposure to the…” He thought for a moment. “The cured?” It was as good as anything else he could think of. “But what little I’ve seen, they’re all just a bit unhinged.”
Buck stared at him, surprised. “Do you think they’ll stay that way?”
Hat
cher shrugged. “I honestly have no idea.” He sat back again and rubbed at his chin. “The first lady I met was pretty distraught. Then she flew off the handle, screaming and…” He glanced up at Buck. “It wasn’t pretty. The next one I ran into was Nick.”
“He seemed nice enough.”
Hatcher nodded, “But still not completely all there, if you know what I mean.” He thought it best to clarify. “He couldn’t remember his name when we met him but an hour later, once he realized his wife was gone, he killed himself. He didn’t even wait to find out if any other family had survived.”
“Then this Mathew guy,” Buck added. “I mean, I guess I can understand him being upset. He just woke from a nightmare.”
“But blaming somebody else?” Hatcher shook his head. “Then again, it’s real easy to be an armchair quarterback, especially if you haven’t had to live what they went through.”
“Realizing that doesn’t help me figure out how to help.”
“Sometimes you can’t help people that don’t want to be helped.” Hatcher’s voice was low and soft. “As much as you want to help them heal, there’s just nothing you can do.”
“Great.” Buck sat back hard in is chair, his face a mask of frustration. “Either way, Mother Nature wins. She creates a virus to kill us all off and when we think we have a work around, the damage is already done. They’re either too brain damaged to go on or they feel so guilty that they finish the job for her.”
“Sometimes life is a bitch.”
Buck came to his feet. “I forgot the shovel and pick axe at Nick’s house.”
“Tools are replaceable. I’m just glad you weren’t hurt.”
“Yeah, about that.” Buck rubbed at his neck, not sure how to breach the subject. “I know I’ve never been much of one for weapons…but I was wondering if I could keep a sidearm? I didn’t bother to check anything out this morning because the guy running the armory hadn’t come in before I left.”
Hatcher glanced down at the holster attached to his thigh. “You want to carry all the time?”
Buck shrugged. “At least have one available. I’d probably keep it in my dresser unless I knew I was leaving.”
Hatcher slowly nodded. “I don’t see why not.” He raised a brow at him. “Do I need to have somebody go over it with you?”
Buck shook his head slowly. “I’m pretty sure I can figure it out.” He looked up and gave him a sly smile. “The bullets come out the skinny end, right?”
“Go.” Hatcher waved him off. “Tell the armorer I gave the okay to permanently assign you a weapon. Remind him to log it.”
“Thanks, Hatch.”
“Just remember, if Skeeter jumps down my throat over it, I’m definitely throwing you under the bus.”
Buck chuckled. “No worries there. I’ll take the hit if she says anything.”
“Just be safe, kid. You and Skeeter are our future now.”
Dr. Broussard stood topside while the deck division went about preparing the ship to dock. He stood back by the main hatch, his guard in tow. He squinted in the early morning sun as the California coast came into view.
“It truly is remarkable to watch that from aboard a ship.”
“If you say so.”
Broussard turned and raised a brow at him. “I take it you’ve seen this too often for it to have any real effect?”
The guard shrugged slightly, his eyes on everything but Broussard. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my lifetime.”
“I’m sure you have.” Broussard turned back to the horizon and watched as the gray silhouette slowly darkened, landmarks and details beginning to come into focus. He had no idea exactly where they were, but he assumed someplace near San Diego. He was almost certain that there was a base near there.
“We need to go back inside,” the guard stated.
Broussard gave him a sad look. “Just a few more moments?”
The guard shook his head. “General Vickers wishes to speak to you and your team.”
Broussard sighed as he turned and pushed back into the main hatch. He maneuvered his way below decks until he approached the lab. He wasn’t surprised that Carol and Miller were already inside. “Am I late?” he asked almost flippantly as he entered.
“Just in time,” the yeoman told him. “General Vickers will be here shortly and—”
“Attention on deck!” a voice yelled, and all of the military men snapped to attention. A wiry man with a long thin nose and dark, lifeless eyes marched into the lab.
“As you were,” he mumbled, and the soldiers came to parade rest.
Broussard took a seat at the end of the workbench and crossed his arms over his chest. “General Vickers, I presume?”
Vickers whipped off his hat and tucked it under his arm. The action, for whatever reason, reminded Andre of the Gestapo officers in old World War II movies. “Dr. Broussard.” He nodded toward the older man. He turned to Carol and gave her a smile that didn’t warm his cold, dead eyes. “Dr. Chaplain.” Broussard noted that he skipped Miller completely. “It seems that this country…nay, the world, owes you two a great debt of gratitude.”
“You’re welcome?” Broussard stated half seriously. “I’m sorry, General, but is there a purpose to this meeting?”
Vickers raised a brow at him and seemed to become more stoic. “Straight to the point then.” He cleared his throat and pulled out a stool, slipping onto it without being invited. “The president would like to have a ceremony, on land, at everyone’s earliest convenience.”
“A ceremony?” Broussard felt he knew where this was going. The cure was developed aboard a US Naval warship, with US researchers assisting. They wanted to take credit as soon as possible and whitewash history.
“To commemorate and thank you for your bravery, sacrifice and dedication to saving the human race.” Vickers smiled at him and Broussard felt his skin crawl. “He wants to thank the nation of France for sending her top researcher. An act that made all of this possible.”
Broussard nodded slightly. “And who would be in attendance for this ceremony?”
“It will be recorded, of course. For posterity.” Vickers slid from the stool and tucked it back under the workbench. “We can’t be certain how long it will take to declare the landing sight clear, but as soon as it is, the president wishes to disembark. The ceremony will be held once a suitable location is found.”
“And we’ll be notified of where and when?” Carol asked.
“Of course.” Vickers slipped his hat back on and adjusted it, preparing to leave. “In fact, considering your great contribution, we’ll assign escorts to keep you safe.”
“Armed escorts, no doubt,” Broussard added, glancing at his new friend, bodyguard, and shadow.
“Of course. We can’t be certain that all of the infected have been effectively exposed to the cure.”
“Of course,” Broussard added dryly. “Per chance, do we have a ballpark idea when this grand event might occur?”
Vickers stood at the door and smiled again. “As soon as possible.” He paused and refused to make eye contact with Andre. “Oh, and Dr. Broussard. We’ve tried repeatedly to contact your country; there’s been no reply. I suppose you’ll be our guest a bit longer until proper communications are established.” He pulled the door open and disappeared into the throng of soldiers.
“Of course,” Broussard grumbled. He pushed away from the workbench and headed for the door.
“Andre, where are you going?” Carol asked.
“Out.” He gave her a cold stare. “I’d like to watch as we pull into port.” He paused for a moment, his eyes reading her confusion. “The fresh air will do me good.”
“Why didn’t you run?”
Lana turned and gave Simon a confused look. “Run?”
He nodded slowly. “Like the others.” He sat up and propped himself on his good arm. “The other Quee ran as soon as they began to remember. Especially the women.”
Lana nodded knowingly. “And who could blame them
?” She saw the look of hurt and surprise on his face then added, “You weren’t the only one who…used them at your pleasure.”
Simon’s face flushed and he looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“But to answer your question,” she interrupted, “I really had nowhere else to go.” He turned and searched her eyes. “Besides, you claimed me.”
He watched as a smile began to take form and he felt a weight come off of his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to pry.” He looked away and searched for the right words. “I just…wondered.”
“It’s okay.” She reached out and brushed his hand. “If I’m honest, I did think about it. When the memories first started coming back, I remembered flashes of my home.”
“Yet you stayed.”
She nodded. “More memories followed and I remembered real quick that the place I thought was home truly wasn’t.” Her face hardened and she pushed the thoughts from her mind. “I decided to take my chances with you instead.”
Simon almost dreaded her next answer. “Do you regret it?”
She turned and gave him a surprised look. “For somebody who used to be so self-confident, you don’t seem so sure of yourself.”
It was his turn to give her a surprised look. “I don’t follow.”
“When you first became Alpha, it was clear, it was your way or be shot. Now…” She shook her head. “It’s like you’ve forgotten who you are.”
Simon inhaled deeply and sat up, his arm starting to throb again. “I told you, I’m not that person any longer.”
She grabbed him by his good arm and kept him from leaving. “Hey, I’m not saying I don’t like this new, softer, cuddlier version.” She leaned to the side to see his face better. “Just that it…takes a bit of getting used to.”
Simon nodded slightly and avoided her gaze. “If you prefer the old me, then I’m afraid we’re both wasting our time.” He pulled his hand back and stared at nothing, his mind remembering how hard he used to be. “I don’t know how I survived as long as I did like that. Pushing people to their breaking points. Being so…self-centered. All of the time.” He lowered his head. “I don’t know what happened to me, but that isn’t me anymore.”
Caldera 9: From The Ashes Page 13