Caldera 9: From The Ashes

by Stallcup, Heath

  She gave him a confused look. “What are you…wait. Do you mean Dr. Miller?”

  Broussard raised a brow at her. “No. I mean my ever-trusty shadow here.” He pointed to his guard. “Of course, I meant Miller.”

  She shook her head, her mind still not connecting the dots. “He’s not my best friend. You are.” She shrugged and gave him a goofy grin. “Actually, you’re, like, my only friend.”

  He nodded at her. “Friend.” He glanced at his guard who shrugged. “Well, it’s nice to know that we’re still friends.”

  “What?!” she practically screamed. “I really don’t understand what’s got your panties in a bunch here, Andre.”

  Broussard blew his breath out slowly and squeezed his eyes shut. “Tell me you aren’t this blind.”

  “Blind to what?”

  He pointed over his shoulder. “Miller just wants in your pants.”

  She gave him a blank stare. “Duh.”

  Broussard blinked at her repeatedly. “Huh?”

  “I said, ‘duh’. It means, yeah, I already know that.”

  He shook his head slightly then glanced to his guard again. “Am I missing something here?”

  “Don’t talk to him. Talk to me.” She grabbed his jaw and pulled his face around to hers. “Yes, I know that Miller wants to be more than friends.”

  “More than friends,” Broussard repeated. “We’re friends. He wants to be more than friends.”

  “And?”

  Broussard glanced to his guard again and the man groaned. “Friend zoned. Sucks to be you, doc.”

  “Oh. My. God,” Carol muttered. She looked at him, her face a mask of surprise. “You want—”

  “Nothing,” he interrupted. “I want nothing from you.”

  “You’re jealous,” she said, a lilt in her tone. She glanced at the guard and repeated herself. “He’s jealous.”

  The guard grinned. “To quote a smarter person than me, ‘duh.’”

  “I most certainly am NOT jealous.” Broussard felt his cheeks go hot and he turned from her, stomping off.

  “Oh yes, you are,” she quipped, quickly jumping into his path again. Her face was nearly aglow as she teased him. “You are jealous of Dr. Miller.”

  “I am not.” Broussard sidestepped her but she stood in his path again.

  “Are so.”

  “Christ, this is like watching two eighth-graders,” the guard growled. “Will you two just get a room already?”

  Both researchers turned and stared at him, their mouths agape. “That was rude,” Carol chimed in.

  “Maybe. But it was accurate.” The guard crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the two. “Are all nerds this…nerdy? Just slip him a note that says, ‘do you like me, check yes or no’ and be done with it.”

  Broussard felt his face redden even more and he turned to face the guard. “You should stop now.”

  “Or?”

  Broussard felt his hands tighten into fists and he took a step toward the guard. Carol quickly jumped between the two and grabbed Andre by the head pulling him to her level. She planted a kiss on him that froze them both.

  The guard grunted and turned his back. “It’s about damned time.”

  Lana slowed the car and pointed through the windshield. “What about something like that?”

  Simon studied the house through the open passenger window. He shook his head. “Too hard to defend.”

  Lana raised a brow at him. “From who? The cagers?”

  Simon sighed and glanced at the other, seemingly abandoned, houses. “From anybody. We can’t be certain that all of the Quee are…” He shrugged, not sure what term to use. “Not Quee anymore.”

  She nodded slowly, seeing his point. “At some point, we’re going to have to assume that—”

  “That somebody who wants what we have will try to take it,” he interrupted. He turned and gave her a tense smile. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep nights unless I knew you were safe.”

  She felt her cheeks flush and she put the car back into gear. “Okay then. What should we be looking for? A castle?”

  Simon chuckled. “I wish.” He continued to stare out of the window. “We need something with at least a fence. A wall would be better.”

  “Neither one would stop somebody who really wanted inside.”

  Simon nodded. “Trust me, I know.” He sighed and laid his head back. “But if it slows them down enough, we could either fight them off or try to escape.”

  “A prison?” Her voice indicated she wasn’t joking.

  Simon shook his head. “Too cold.” He sat up slightly and grimaced as his arm throbbed. “We need a home.”

  “A NICE home,” she added.

  “The nicest.” He gave her a knowing look. “We need to find where people like lawyers and judges lived. You know. They’d have some kind of security measures in place.”

  Lana nodded her head. “And they’d be nice.” She slowed the car and gave him a confused look. “How do we find a judge’s house?”

  Simon shrugged. “I would say look in a phone book, but I don’t think those have been printed in years.” He rubbed at his chin. “Check the courthouse?”

  She laughed as she pulled the car back onto the road. “Why not?” She goosed the accelerator. “We’re going to court!”

  24

  “Increased heart rate, respiration…their adrenal system must be on overload.”

  Hatcher squinted at Vicky. “So, they’re infected?”

  “I would say no, because they don’t exhibit the outward symptoms of a Zulu.”

  “I know they haven’t lost their hair or gone pasty, but they sure act like Zulus. If it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck…”

  Vicky shook her head. “But there’s no blood pooling in their eyes.” She leaned back and sighed heavily. “I mean, I suppose it could have mutated, but…” she trailed off.

  Hatcher rubbed at his eyes. “And the cure is in the air.” He waved with his hands. “Obviously. We have Zulus stepping out of the woodwork and they act cured.”

  Vicky’s eyes widened. “Danny, I just had a horrible thought.”

  “When it comes to this damned virus, I think all thoughts are horrible.” He groaned inwardly. “Hit me.”

  “This will sound out of left field.”

  “We’ve been dealing with raving bands of cannibals for the last seven or eight months. Hit me with your best shot.”

  Vicky leaned closer, her voice low. “What if it’s the cure?”

  Hatcher blinked at her. “Come again?”

  “What if…somehow, the cure is affecting some people differently? Rather than inoculating them from the rage virus, it’s…I dunno…infecting them.”

  “With what?”

  “Who knows?” She threw her hands up. “A different form of the virus? I have no idea what they used to create the cure. If they used dead versions of the original virus like they do with some other vaccines, then maybe the virus wasn’t as dead as they thought?”

  “Good lord,” Hatcher gasped. “So instead of curing the Zulus, they end up infecting everybody else?”

  Vicky shrugged. “Danny, I have no idea. Even if the CDC were here and explaining what they did, I probably still wouldn’t understand it completely. I’m just a trauma nurse.”

  Hatcher groaned as he sat back, his head leaning on the back of the chair. “So…for all we can tell, those two guys are infected. Regardless of their outward appearances, they’re most likely infected.”

  Vicky nodded. “With something. They don’t have blood pooling in the whites of their eyes, but all other indications point to them being Zulus.”

  “Great.” Hatcher sat forward, fighting the urge to curse the gods. “Just fucking great.”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news.”

  Hatcher shook his head. “I think I knew it before we ever talked.” He turned to face her. “Even if it’s not the original virus, then it’s something similar enough that they act the
same, except the cure isn’t working on them.”

  She nodded. “Didn’t you go with them to find samples of the original virus?”

  Hatcher nodded. “And we got it. As far as I know, anyway.”

  “Then my guess is that they used that original virus as the basis for the vaccine. They killed it off and found an airborne delivery method to inoculate the population.”

  “Except they’re also infecting some of the few survivors.” He looked up at her. “Best guess…how long do we have?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The rest of us? Those of us who were never infected. How long before we go dark, like they did?”

  She shrugged at him. “By all rights, there were plenty of others who were exposed to the strep before those two guys were. Nobody else is showing signs of aggression.”

  Hatcher raised his brows. “So, you’re saying that it may only be a small portion of the survivors who are…susceptible?”

  “I can’t say for sure on anything. They could have had a genetic predisposition to the cure, or they might have harbored the original virus and it was only triggered when exposed to the cure or they could have—”

  “Okay, okay. I get it.” He stood slowly and tried to think. “I could really use another cup of coffee right about now.”

  “Or a whiskey sour.”

  Hatcher snorted a quick laugh. “Yeah. Either would work.” He paced Vicky’s small office, his gears spinning. “So what should I tell the others? You know how rumors are around here.”

  She slowly shook her head. “That’s entirely up to you. Anything I might tell you is pure supposition at this point.”

  “Great. Thanks, sis.”

  She smiled up at him. “I aim to please.”

  Hatcher stared out of the glass of her office door and slowly shook his head. “I need more answers.”

  “Right now, we all do.” Vicky slowly stood and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I don’t see either of those men coming back. And if they do, could we trust them to stay non-aggressive?”

  Hatcher shook his head. “Not after what I witnessed.”

  “You need to deal with them. Whatever method you think is best.”

  He turned and gave her a hopeful look. “Could you put them to sleep?”

  “To sleep? Do you mean like Mr. Sandman or like Old Yeller?”

  “Like a…vet.”

  “No.” She crossed her arms and shook her head. “Even if I could cook up the cocktail, I wouldn’t use it.”

  “It would be easier to tell people that they died in their sleep.”

  She raised a brow at him. “A bullet to the head will do the same thing.”

  Hatcher scoffed. “You lied to me.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “You don’t aim to please. You aim to pass the buck.”

  “Goodbye, Danny.” Vicky opened the door and shooed him out of her office. “Good luck.”

  “What was that for?” Broussard asked, trying to catch his breath.

  Carol stood back and stared at him, stars in her eyes. “I needed to stop you from hurting yourself.”

  He gave her a confused look, slowly shaking his head. “I don’t…I don’t understand.”

  She smiled up at him and pulled him close for another kiss. “You friend over there would have beat you black and blue if you went up against him.” She smiled at him and squeezed his chin in her hand. “I kind of like you in one piece.”

  Broussard’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to form words. Fortunately for him, none could escape.

  “Stop, Andre. You look like a fish out of water.” She giggled as she slid her arm into his and spun him away from the guard. “Come. Let’s explore the city.”

  Broussard nodded absently as he fell into step with her. “Please forgive me. I’m confused.”

  “For a brilliant geneticist, you aren’t the brightest, are you?”

  “I suppose not.”

  She walked slowly along the dock with him. “I’ve liked you since you first came aboard the ship.” She glanced up at him and saw his cheeks flush. “I thought you were all about work. That you didn’t have time for…well, for anything else.”

  He nodded absently. “Why didn’t you simply say something?”

  “When? While we were on the run?” She shook her head. “You already felt the need to protect me. I didn’t want to add to that burden.”

  “Add to the burden?” He gave her another confused stare. “Caring about you isn’t a burden.”

  She slowed her walk and pulled him close. “You had already risked everything to protect me from my imaginary and insane notions.” She lowered her face and chewed at her lower lip. “I couldn’t add more to your shoulders by letting you know how I felt.”

  Broussard nodded slowly, not truly understanding. “I would have taken that burden with joy.”

  She looked at him and smiled. “I know that now.”

  He nodded as began to understand.

  “Are you two ready for that room now?” the guard asked.

  They spun on him and Broussard barked “No!” at the same time that Carol shouted, “Yes!”

  The guard smiled as Broussard seemed to trip over his himself. “W-what did you—”

  “I said yes.” Carol grinned at him. “We have months of lost time to make up for, don’t you think?”

  Broussard made his fish impression again and was lost in a myriad of thoughts as the guard grabbed his shoulder. “I know just the place.”

  “Wait.” Simon sat up in the seat and pointed out the window. “Stop.”

  Lana slowed the car. “We’re nowhere near the courthouse.”

  Simon turned and smiled at her. “We may not need to go after all. Look.” He pointed to a house on the corner, a thick wall surrounding it with wrought ironwork along the top. Foliage grew dense inside the walls and the treetops covered most of the house from view. “That looks promising.”

  She leaned forward in the seat and squinted in the bright sunlight. “What makes you think so?”

  “The metal spikes along the top of the wall. The house being blocked from view…I could see living there.”

  Lana shrugged and turned the car towards the house. “How do we get in? The gate is closed.”

  “The harder it is for us to get in, the harder it will be for anybody else.” He opened the door to the car and climbed out, his eyes scanning the fortress. “If I were breaking into a place, I would pass this one up.”

  “So that’s good, right?”

  “That’s very good.” He walked along the front of the wall, trying to peer over. “This has got to be a good seven feet tall.”

  Lana pushed on the sliding gate blocking the driveway. “It’s frozen.”

  “Probably electric,” Simon stated as he continued down the sidewalk. “Give me a second.” He went to the end of the property and glanced down the boundary. “Perfect. It looks like the wall goes all the way around.”

  Lana stood at the driveway, her hands on her hips. “I’m not seeing a way in.”

  Simon grinned wider. “Perfect, isn’t it?” He walked past her and to the other border then waved her on. “Follow me.”

  The pair walked along the outer boundary until they came to the rear of the property. “If there’s a back gate, maybe we can get through it.”

  He high stepped over the tall, brown grass until he came to what he was looking for. A large wooden gate was built into the rear wall. He glanced at the other properties across from the wall and a slow smile formed. “These were prominent homes.”

  “So how are we getting in?”

  Simon tried the rear gate and it was solid. “Maybe I can boost you over the wall?” He gave her a knowing look. “You can open the gate from the inside.”

  She gave him that look. “Are you serious?” There are big metal spikes at the top of that wall. You trying to get me killed?”

  Simon pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose. “You can do this. I’ll boost you up,
you shimmy over the wall and open the gate. Just be extra careful at the top.”

  “That’s a seven foot drop into the other side.” She gave him a cautious stare. “I don’t think I’m in good enough shape to handle a fall like that.”

  Simon exhaled hard and stared back at the wall. “I hate to give up. This place looks so promising.”

  Lana groaned and cocked her head to the side. “Fine. Boost me up. But if it looks too scary, I’m coming right back down on top of you.”

  Simon smiled. “That sounds like a plan, too.”

  “Stop it.”

  He bent down and planted his knee into the soft earth. His other leg remained bent outward, giving her a step up. “Step onto my thigh, then my shoulder.”

  She placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped onto the top of his leg. She shifted her hand to his head and placed her other foot on his shoulder. With a slight bounce she was up and had a knee at the top of the wall. “There’s not much room to navigate up here. This metalwork is everywhere.”

  “It’s more than just decoration, sweetheart.” Simon came to his feet and watched as she braced herself on the adobe arch over the gate and carefully lifted each leg over the metal spikes. “I swear to god, this had better be worth it.”

  Simon nodded, his eyes following her every move. “I sure hope so.”

  He watched her drop to all fours along the top of the wall, then slide her lower half down the other side. “Be careful.”

  He watched her disappear and heard her land on the other side with a huff. A moment later the back gate rattled as she fought with the latch. “It’s rusted. Give me a moment.”

  He watched in amazement as the gate creaked open and Lana appeared, none the worse for wear. “I’m gonna turn you into a cat burglar before this is over.”

  “I think you already have.” She held the gate open for him then shut it behind him. “What now?”

  “Now we see if we can get into the house.” Simon pushed through the overgrown yard, avoiding a small lap pool that had turned green and was half evaporated. “Looks like there may be fishing,” he joked.

  “It smells,” Lana mumbled as they made their way to the house. “I’ll check the garage.”