Caldera 9: From The Ashes
Page 17
“And now it’s too late?”
Hatcher nodded. “She was one of the first to fall to this damned virus.”
“I’m sorry, Hatcher.”
He sat up straight and cleared his throat. “Don’t be.” He sipped his coffee and set the mug down. “It just wasn’t meant to be.” He looked at Rog and gave a false smile. “But if she were still with us, I wouldn’t want to try to raise a family here either.” He glanced out at what they’d built and smiled. “Trust me. I totally understand.”
“We’ve just gotten communication from NORAD.” The duty officer seemed overly excited. “We thought that it had fallen just after the president was evacuated from the site, but apparently they were able to regain control.”
“Why didn’t they contact you before?” Broussard asked, his curiosity more than piqued.
The yeoman stepped forward, holding out his clipboard. “They just recently were able to restore enough power to broadcast a message over any distance.” He glanced at the duty officer. “If it hadn’t been for our message about the cure, they might not have even attempted.”
“So what does this have to do with us?” Carol asked cautiously.
The duty officer handed her a redacted message. “They still have some CDC personnel there and they’d like to look at your work.” He smiled at her. “They want to meet you.”
“Please forgive my ignorance,” Broussard started. “But why? What’s done is done. There is no undoing it.”
The duty officer averted his eyes. “Your, uh… colleague? Dr. McAlester?”
“What of him?” Carol asked.
“They want to see what you have.” He gave her a hopeful look. “They want to see if there might be a way to curtail those effects in the population, should it occur.”
“How would they know about Dr. McAlester?” Broussard asked, his defenses rising.
The yeoman stepped between them and cleared his throat. “That would be because of me. When we first made contact with them, they asked for all of the data to go over it. I may have…uh…mentioned Dr. McAlester and what happened to him.”
Broussard took a deep breath and let it out slowly as his mind tried to wrap around the situation. “And if they happened to find a ‘work around’ to the problem…that would mean that Dr. McAlester might have been saved, correct?”
The duty officer grew increasingly uncomfortable. “That is a possibility.”
Broussard nodded slowly. “So, my requests to spare him for just such an occasion…”
The duty officer nodded solemnly. “It wasn’t my decision, doctor.”
“Of course not.” He spun and stepped away, fighting the urge to curse the men.
“When would we leave?” Carol asked.
The yeoman handed her an envelope. “How fast can you pack your things?”
Simon sat quietly in the car as Lana drove towards the pharmacy. He finally sat up and looked at her. “Why would you say ‘cut off my arm?’”
She glanced at him as she maneuvered around parked cars. “What?”
“Why would you suggest cutting off my arm?”
She cleared her throat. “I’m no doctor. But it looks bad. Like, maybe even gangrene. If it is, you’d have to lose the arm. Otherwise it could kill you.”
Simon glanced down at his wounded arm and stiffened. “Cut it off?” He swallowed hard. “Can that be done?”
She gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, today. Now. Without doctors and surgeons and shit. Can it be done?”
She shook her head slightly. “Battlefield surgery; but I have no idea. Let’s not dwell on that, okay? We’ll get you as many antibiotics as we can carry and you just take as many as you can without shitting your guts out. If they don’t kill off the infection, nothing will.”
“Without shitting my guts out?”
She nodded. “Really strong antibiotics can do that. They mess with your intestines or something and can give you the screaming mimis.”
“Then we need to get toilet paper too.” He muttered.
“Antibiotics can also make birth control stop working.”
He stared at her open-mouthed. “I don’t think that’s my main concern at the moment.” He sighed as he sat back, his mind worrying. “I think I’d take getting pregnant over losing my arm.”
She snorted at the joke and shook her head. “You wouldn’t enjoy it.” She glanced at him then down at his lap. “Can you imagine pushing a water melon through a soda straw?” She snorted again and Simon scowled at her.
“It’s bigger than a soda straw, thank you.”
She burst into laughter and slapped the steering wheel. “Oh my god…that’s what you zero in on when I mention pushing a watermelon out?”
“It’s not funny,” he pouted.
“Sure it is, sweetie.” She grinned at him then slowed the car, pulling into the parking lot. “I just get a kick out of how your mind works sometimes, that’s all.”
“It’s MUCH bigger than a soda straw.” He continued to glare at her.
She came around to his side of the car and closed the door for him. “I’m sorry, babe.” She kissed his cheek. “It’s ginormous. I promise.” She wrapped her arm around his and led him into the store.
“You’re just messing with me now, aren’t you?”
“No.” She fought to keep a straight face. “You are a walking firehose.”
Simon groaned and followed her into the store. “ELO was right,” he scoffed. “Evil Woman.”
27
“Anything?” Hatcher asked.
The sentry looked down at him and shook his head. “All quiet out there.”
Hatcher rubbed at his chin and glanced back up at the crow’s nest. “I’m thinking we might ought to stand down from so many security watches.”
The sentry gave him a confused and frightened look. “Why would we do that?”
Hatcher sighed and reached out to grip the wooden ladder. He climbed up into the nest and stood next to the sentry. “We’ve seen a few of the cured Zulus out there. I’m thinking that whatever the government developed has probably cut their ranks down significantly.” He glanced at the sentry and shrugged. “As much as I might rest easy knowing we had you boys doing your thing, I hate the idea of wasting manpower if it’s not needed.”
“I get that.” The sentry picked up his binoculars and scanned the horizon as he spoke. “But I feel safer knowing we’re out here, if it’s all the same to you.” He lowered the binoculars and shook his head. “It may be quiet, but it’s always quiet before the storm.”
Hatcher patted the man’s shoulder. “I’m not gonna force you to step down. I’m just letting you know what I’m thinking.”
“I appreciate it. And I’m sure some of the other guys would gladly stand down.” He gave him a solemn look. “I’m just not certain that it’s a good idea right now.”
“You say ‘right now’ like there’s something else I should be considering.”
The sentry shrugged. “You had to deal with the two knuckleheads that went at each other.” He raised a brow at Hatcher. “What if there are more like those two out there? What if they happen upon us?”
Hatcher nodded knowingly. “I’ve considered that. I think the gate guards could handle them just fine.”
“And if it’s more than one or two that show up?”
Hatcher sighed. “After seeing the way they went at each other, I don’t see them forming up into roving bands of crazies to come after groups like us.”
The sentry sobered and turned to him. “I don’t think there are any other groups of people like us.” He grew quiet and somber. “I think we’re it.”
“Why would you say that?” Hatcher asked. “We’re one small town out of the whole world.”
The sentry set his spy glasses down and sighed. “I’ve been to big cities and tiny towns. I’ve lived just about all the different places a person can live.” He shook his head slowly as he remembered the people
in the places that he had called home. “I could see a few rural farming areas still having people there. But no place of any real size.” He leaned forward and planted his hands on the rail of the lookout. “I really think we’re it.”
Hatcher gave him a pat on the back. “Humans are tenacious sons of bitches. If there is any way to survive, they’ll find it.” He gave him a smile as he turned for the ladder. “I’ll bet real money that there’s a lot more out there than you could imagine.”
In Hatcher’s own mind, he didn’t believe a word he had just said, but he also noted the man’s expression when he considered that they were alone. He couldn’t allow that kind of despair to take root. Not when they were this close to removing the largest threat to the living.
“And what is ‘real money’ these days, Hatch?”
He grinned up at the man. “Probably whiskey.”
“I’ll take that bet!” the sentry chuckled. “I’ll let you know if we see anything. Threat or otherwise.”
Hatcher gave him a nod before disappearing down the ladder. As his feet touched ground he glanced at all of the men hard at work rebuilding the compound. He watched each go about their duties, focused on the tasks at hand. He glanced back towards the sentries, their eyes on the horizon, their hands idle. “Too much time to think up there,” he muttered to himself. “Maybe it’s time we pull them from their watches and get them busy with something else.”
“I could certainly use more bodies,” Will said from behind, causing Hatcher to startle.
“You shouldn’t sneak up on people.”
“I wasn’t sneaking.” Will handed Hatcher the list. “We’ve knocked off the structural. The aesthetics are another matter.”
“Meaning?”
Will gave him a knowing look. “The world may be our oyster, but without someone replenishing the supplies available out there, resources are still limited.” He cleared his throat and turned to look at the buildings. “They’re structurally sound now. Repairs have been made. But if you are seriously considering us moving to a larger place, you need to make up your mind soon. Otherwise any further work here could hinder the repairs and fabrication needed at the new places.”
“Shit or get off the pot, right?”
“Crude, but accurate.” Will took the list back from him. “If you are moving everybody, so be it. If you plan to allow some to stay here if they so choose, then there are some things that still need to be addressed.”
“Allow them to stay?” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t force anybody to do anything.”
“Then you might want to hold a meeting and let people know what you are considering.” Will pushed his glasses up on his nose and gave him a knowing look. “Some might rather stay here.”
Hatcher patted his shoulder. “Noted.”
“I have an unusual feeling about this.” Broussard mumbled quietly as he walked to his cabin. “I don’t think they’re telling us the whole story.”
Carol paused outside his room and looked up at him. “Why would you say that?”
He shook his head and glanced to the side to ensure nobody else was nearby. “Call it a gut feeling, but why would surviving CDC personnel want to see us in person? We could easily speak with them over radios or possibly even remote video.”
“They said that they’d had some damages. Maybe they aren’t capable of—”
“They sent a radio message to the fleet.” He narrowed his eyes. “If they can radio a message, we can radio one back.”
Carol nodded slowly, her mind trying to connect dots. “I’m still not really seeing the problem.” She gave him a soft smile. “You could have assisted us via radio, but they sent for you. You know it’s easier to do things in person than try to tell someone else how.”
“True.” He crossed his arms. “And what could they possibly want us to do? They have our data. They know how we did what we did.”
“But he said that they wanted us to help them to deal with others like Kevin.” She placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “If we’re working on yet another cure, it would be best if we worked together.”
He nodded. “Then why not send them to us? We’ve already established a working laboratory.”
She opened her mouth to argue then closed it. “Perhaps they have a better facility?”
“Then they should have found the cure before we did.”
“Unless they didn’t think of addressing the problem the way you did.” She sighed and pulled him closer. “I fear you’re trying to create a sinister situation where one isn’t warranted.”
He took a deep breath and tried to shake the uneasy feeling. He nodded slowly, more to placate her than anything. “Perhaps you are right.” He bent low and lowered his voice. “Dress prepared.”
She raised a brow at him. “I don’t understand.”
“Be prepared to run.” He slowly shook his head. “I pray that I’m wrong, but in case I’m not, pack light, dress ready to go on the run and stay alert.”
She gave him a worried look but nodded. “I will.”
He gave her a quick kiss then pushed open the door to his cabin. “Find me before we have to be topside.”
She nodded quickly then disappeared into the hall. Broussard closed his door and assessed his meager belongings. “Please, let me be wrong.”
Simon paused at the short liquor aisle and stared at the untouched bottles. He picked up a particular whiskey that he always preferred and stared at the bottle.
“That’s not an antibiotic.”
He nodded, his eyes still glued to the label. “I know.” He placed it gently back on the aisle and turned to her. “But if worse comes to worst, and you have to cut my arm off, I think a couple of these would make the pain a bit more tolerable.”
She shook her head and marched up to him. “We’re here so that it won’t come to that, remember?” She pushed him away from the booze and towards the small pharmacy counter. “Not every answer can be found in the bottom of a bottle of hootch.”
“I know this.” He paused and gave her a knowing look. “But I also know that being passed out drunk would make it a lot easier to do what needed to be done.” He paused and peered into her eyes. “If it did come to that.”
“We will cross that bridge IF and WHEN we come to it.” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I promise. If it starts to look like we may have to go that route…and god help us, we won’t. But if it does, I’ll come and get you the best of the best myself.”
“I don’t want to consider it as a real possibility either—”
“Then let’s not even think about it,” she interrupted. “Simon, I don’t think I could hack off your arm if I had to.” She lowered her eyes and he caught the glint of a tear streaming down her cheek. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”
He reached out and pulled her close, tucking her tightly against his chest. “I hate that it might come to it because I’d have to ask you to do it.” She sniffled against him and he felt a tight smile form. “I have no clue what you’d need to do either.”
She pulled away and wiped at her face. “You made my mascara run. Now I look like a raccoon.”
“A beautiful raccoon.” He kissed her nose as she pulled away.
“I have to find your medicine.” She sniffled again as she slid over the counter.
He turned and leaned against the counter while she searched the shelves. “I would imagine, if you had to do it…you’d need to tie me down. Even passed out drunk, I’d likely come up swinging once you started hacking.”
“Stop.”
“No, seriously.” He turned and faced her. “You would need to tie me down and we’d need to find like a really sharp cleaver. Something that had enough heft to take it off in one or two big chops.”
“I mean it. Stop.” She shook her head as she picked through the drugs. “I don’t want to think about it.”
“You’d probably need something hot standing by to sear the stub.” He scratched at his chin. “Or would it
be a nub?”
“We’re not talking about your dick anymore,” she yelled flippantly.
He turned and gave her a cold, hard stare. “You really are evil.”
“If you’re gonna keep talking about hacking off your arm, I’m gonna talk about your dick.”
Simon huffed and turned back around, leaning on the counter. “Grab some more pain pills too.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Surgery or not, we’ll probably need them.” He heard her fluff open a plastic bag and begin to drop bottles of pills into it. “You finding them okay?”
“I’m taking anything that ends in ‘in’. Penicillin, Amoxicillin, Ampicillin…whatever I can find.”
Simon nodded approvingly. “I knew you had some doctor in you.”
She glanced at him and smirked. “More like vet, because you’re being an ass.”
Simon rolled his eyes. “If I didn’t love you…” he froze and refused to look at her. He didn’t think he could deal with her passive aggressively rejecting him again. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
She appeared by his side and shook the bag at him. “We have enough dope in here that I could cut you open and sew a dead possum in your chest and you’d never know it.”
He gave her a sardonic smile. “I think I’d know.”
“Let’s get back and I’ll make you a bowl of pills for a snack.”
“Ooh, yummy.” He fell into step behind her. “Just make sure that they all end in ‘in.’” He stared at her butt as she walked towards the doors. “Remember, arsenic don’t end with ‘in.’”
She reached out and tipped the liquor bottle on the end of the aisle into the floor. “Neither does Johnny Walker.”
28
Hatcher stood at the front of the dining room while the residents sat quietly, listening. “…And while I appreciate all of the hard work that everyone has put in to this place, I think we’ve outgrown it. I’d like to start looking for a new place. A place that we can all put down roots and work together as a community.”