Caldera 9: From The Ashes

by Stallcup, Heath

  “I thought that was what we were doing here.” A younger woman called from near the middle of the crowd.

  Hatcher locked eyes with her. “I don’t think that this place was ever seriously considered to be the end game for us.” He stepped closer and approached the front seats. “It’s done the job, that’s for certain. It provided a place small enough that we could effectively defend, but large enough that we all got a little bit of privacy. But is that enough?”

  “What if we like it here?” the woman asked.

  “That’s fine. Nobody is going to force you to go.” He stepped back and gave the crowd a disarming smile. “Look. All I’m proposing here is moving to a larger, and hopefully secure place. We’d each get our own place. No sharing walls.” He pointed to one of the men who worked in the greenhouse. “We could each grow our own garden. Perhaps trade with our neighbors.”

  Vicky stepped up behind her brother and caught the crowd’s attention. “We would find a place large enough to hold us all,” she glanced at Hatcher, “and provide room for expansion, should any of the cured find their way to us.”

  There was a slight murmur in the crowd and Hatcher raised his hands to get their attention again. “We’re talking about creating a community. Complete with a playground for the kids, and possibly a place to act as a school.”

  “And a centralized place for people to come when they’re sick. I plan to set up some kind of clinic where all could come and—”

  “So if we want medical care, we have to move there, too?” the woman asked.

  Vicky shook her head. “No, of course not. If there is a large portion of people who want to stay here then I can either travel back and forth or you could come visit me at the new clinic, whichever works best.” She sighed and gave the woman an understanding look. “We won’t abandon you if you decide to stay here. I promise you that.”

  “What are the advantages to moving to this new Utopia of yours?” a man asked, his arms firmly crossed over his chest.

  Hatcher chuckled. “Nobody said it would be a Utopia. Actually, it would probably be far from it. But the advantages would be you’d have a larger living area. You’d have your own walls, your own yard.”

  “Your own kitchen,” Vicky added. “We wouldn’t have to rely on the ladies in the kitchen three times a day.”

  A man near the front snickered and spoke up. “I love my wife to death but she can’t cook for shit.” The woman next to him punched him in the arm. He rubbed at it enthusiastically and laughed. “I, for one, prefer the lunch ladies doing their thing.” A short round of laughter echoed as his wife smacked him again.

  “And that’s fine,” Hatcher added. He glanced at the ladies sitting in the front and added, “If you can convince them to stay here and continue what they’re doing.”

  Roger stood up and turned to face the crowd. “Hey, y’all. This is all my fault.” He waited while the crowd focused on him. “The other day when we all went into town and tried to escape the cabin fever, I mentioned to Daniel that Candy and I would like to move out. Get our own place. A place that we could call our own. Stretch our legs.” He glanced at Candy and smiled. “A place that we can raise our kid.”

  “You could raise a kid here,” another man mentioned. “A lot of us are.”

  Roger nodded. “Yeah, and if the Zulus were still a real threat, I would. Gladly.” He looked to Candy again. “But things are looking like they won’t be a threat any longer. And if that’s so, then I want elbow room.” He turned and gave Hatcher a hopeful look. “Nobody said that you have to leave here. I think Daniel just took my idea and let it grow a bit.”

  Hatcher pushed Will forward. “Say something.”

  Will cleared his throat to get the crowd’s attention. “We plan to source the solar panels and controllers needed so that the homes will have power. We would also either drill a large well or a series of wells and supply the homes with water, just like we have here. Depending on the location, we might have to have a remote system, but either way, it’s doable.” He glanced at Roger then added, “We’re still not even sure where we might do this. As Mr. Mulroney and Mr. Hatcher have stated, we want to ensure the security of whatever location we choose. That could take some time.”

  “But time is the problem, as well,” Hatcher said as he stepped forward. “While we want to make this move as easy as we can and provide as many creature comforts as possible, we need to know who wants to go and who wishes to stay.” He scanned the crowd as he spoke. “I know that change is sometimes difficult but in these times, all we’ve known is change.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” a man mumbled.

  “However, in order for us to know what to look for, we’ll need a head count of who is in and who isn’t.”

  Will stepped forward. “When we know how many are staying, we’ll know what other things around here will require our attention before we can divert our efforts to another location.”

  “What does that mean?” the woman asked.

  “It means that we don’t want to waste all of our resources on a location that we won’t be living at. If nobody wants to stay here permanently, then we can use this as a living hub while we convert the other location. If a lot of people wish to stay, then we’ll need to provide more attention to the infrastructure here before we start allocating resources to another area.”

  “But you wouldn’t be leaving us high and dry if we chose to stay?” the woman asked.

  Will shook his head. “Of course not. And if any systems fail here, I’ll gladly return and we can repair it.”

  She glanced at the man sitting next to her and gave him hopeful eyes. He shrugged then turned to Hatcher. “What if we’re not sure?”

  “About?”

  “What if we don’t like this new place?”

  “Then feel free to stay.” He glanced to Vicky then added, “I meant it when I said that nobody is going to force you to do one thing or the other.”

  The man nodded then looked to his wife. “What the hell. We’re in.”

  “Why isn’t Miller with us?” Broussard asked.

  The officer sitting across from him gave a slight shrug. “He wasn’t part of your team. Besides, the ship still needs a doctor.”

  Andre glanced at Carol and gave a slight shake of his head. “I’m still not liking this.”

  She reached over and patted his hand. “Either way, I came prepared.” She gave him a wink. “Just like you said.”

  He glanced down and noticed the hiking boots she wore. He nodded and sat back in his seat. He clutched the satchel containing their research and sighed heavily. “I still don’t see why the CDC people couldn’t have come to us.” He glanced at the officer. “Our lab is more than capable of—”

  “Your lab is barely a 12X12 room with a bunch of second hand, pilfered equipment in it.” The officer gave him a smile that looked more like a snarl. “I’m sure the CDC have much better resources where they are.”

  “At NORAD?” Broussard countered. “I didn’t think that they were set up for biological and genetic research.”

  The officer shrugged, shifting the rifle in his hands. “I have no idea what they do or don’t have. All I know is it was requested that you and she come to them.”

  “Requested?” Broussard guffawed. “That’s rich.”

  The officer’s face twisted into a hostile mask. “Yes, asshole. requested.” He gripped the rifle tighter and glared at the man. “When the president requests something, you do it.”

  “He’s not my president,” Broussard stated flatly. “I’m French, vous crétin.”

  “What was that?” The officer sat forward, swinging his rifle closer towards the pair.

  Carol quickly threw an arm out and pushed Broussard back. She gave the officer a quick smile. “He likes your shoes.” She glanced at Andre then back to the officer. “Rather, your combat boots.”

  The officer sat back and continued to stare daggers at the pair. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s what he said.” />
  Broussard painted a false smile and nodded. “Il doit être difficile d’être un homme des cavernes sans une grotte.” Which, roughly translated, meant, “it must be difficult to be a caveman without a cave.”

  Carol snickered and covered her mouth. “He said he’d love to have a pair just like them but they wouldn’t match his purse.” She glanced at Broussard then back to the tactically outfitted officer. “I meant, ‘satchel.’ It wouldn’t match his satchel.”

  The officer chose to ignore them and leaned back again, shutting his eyes.

  Carol looked to Andre and gave a slight shake of her finger. “One of these days you’ll run into somebody who understands French.”

  Broussard harrumphed. “There aren’t any cultured people left, chéri.” He glanced out of the window and sighed. “They all ate each other.”

  Simon rushed to the bathroom and groaned as he repainted the porcelain for the second time. The smell was almost as bad as the sound, and after he cleaned himself and flushed as much of the evidence away as possible, he staggered back into the living room.

  “I hope you opened a window this time.” Lana called out cheerfully.

  He fell into the chair opposite her and gave her a sickly stare. “You weren’t kidding about these antibiotics tearing me up.” He cupped his good hand over his middle and groaned. “Christ, I think I gotta go back.”

  Lana snorted. “You’d think you would have blown out your spleen by now.”

  Simon groaned and leaned to the side of the chair. “I think the stuff I ate in kindergarten wants out now.”

  She gave him a knowing look. “I’m sorry. It’s part and parcel with those things.”

  “I didn’t think it would hit that quickly.”

  She turned and made a face. “You did open a window, didn’t you?”

  He nodded weakly. “Of course.” He glanced back down the hallway. “I’d kill for enough power to run the vent fan.”

  She curled her lip and waved a hand in front of her face. “I think your man scent followed you back.”

  He gave her a sheepish grin. “Sorry.” His eyes widened and he pushed up from the chair quickly. “Gotta run.”

  She sat back and sighed, her eyes searching for a way to vent the entire house. “I should have just let his arm rot off.” She mumbled as she went to each window and attempted to open them.

  She got enough of a cross breeze to blow out the lion’s share and had just sat down when he wandered back into the room wearing just his boxers and a t-shirt.

  “Did you forget something?”

  Simon huffed as he sat down again. “It’s too much work tugging that belt loose then dropping britches before my ass explodes.” He grinned at her. “At least this way, I reduce the chances of crapping my drawers.”

  She smirked. “Smart.”

  He tapped at his temples. “Kidneys.”

  She chuckled then glanced at her watch. “You ready for the second round?”

  His eyes widened and he shook his head. “I just took those a few hours ago. Surely it’s too soon.”

  She shook her head as she stood. “That was the twice a day stuff. This round is the three times a day stuff.”

  “Three?” His face fell and he pleaded. “Please no. My ass is raw from wiping.”

  She glanced at his arm then back to his face. “How bad do you want to keep that thing?”

  He looked down at his hand and wiggled his fingers. “I think it’s all healed. See? I can move my fingers now.”

  “Right.” She planted her hands on her hips and her face seemed to pucker as she looked at him. “So you want me to get the chainsaw now or…”

  Simon sighed and nodded. “Fine.” He looked up at her with puppy dog eyes. “I wish we had some milk to pour over them. I could eat them like corn flakes.”

  “Some of these I think you have to stay away from dairy.” She popped her head back into the living room. “So I better not catch you blowing a cow.”

  “Eww.” He shook his head. “I don’t think it works that way.”

  She handed him a bowl with multiple colored pills. “Bottoms up.”

  “I think my bottom blew up.” He took the bowl and reached for the water. “But if these shoot right through me, how are they going to help my arm?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not the doctor.” She raised a brow at him. “I’m just trying really hard not to have to become a surgeon.”

  Simon squared his shoulders. “Right.” He picked up a yellow pill and slipped it onto his tongue. “One for the money….”

  29

  Buck squinted in the early morning light. “Why so early, Hatch?”

  “Early worm gets the bird, or some such.” Roger mumbled. He cradled his coffee cup as he struggled with the rear door of the SUV.

  “We can cover more ground,” Hatcher replied as he tossed a go bag in the back. He leaned closer to Buck. “You armed?”

  Buck patted his side. “Yes sir.” He gave him a nod. “Thanks again.”

  “Just don’t make me regret it.” Hatcher slid into the passenger seat as Vicky got in behind him.

  Buck started the vehicle and put it into gear. “Which direction do you want to go?”

  Hatcher glanced back to Roger. “You want to check out the subdivision we were in when you were looking at houses?”

  Roger shook his head. “The homes were nice, but the properties would be too difficult to defend.” He looked to Vicky. “You’ve lived here your whole life. Where would you suggest?”

  Vicky sighed and shook her head. “The really ritzy places should have more land and may be gated, but there would be fewer homes there.”

  Hatcher pointed ahead. “Just drive us towards Albuquerque, and if we spot anything that looks promising, we’ll stop and check it out.”

  Buck pulled out and navigated through the city, heading south. He glanced in the rear view mirror at Roger. “What says we have to stay here? We could look up by Santa Fe.”

  Hatcher shook his head. “Sorry buddy. There’s a half-dozen folks who want to stay at the retirement home.”

  “So? Let ‘em.”

  “Stanton promised that we’d come back and help them if they needed anything,” Hatcher replied.

  “And I promised that they’d still have access to care if they needed it,” Vicky added.

  Buck sighed. “So, we’re stuck in Rio Rancho.”

  Hatcher chuckled. “Nothing says we’re ‘stuck’ anywhere. We just made commitments.”

  “Speaking of…” Buck trailed off. “I understand that you’re our fearless leader and all that, but at what point did it become that you are expected to provide for all of these people for the rest of their lives?”

  Hatcher gave him a concerned look. “What are you getting at?”

  Buck shrugged. “I guess I just don’t get it. They look to you to cover every aspect of need, want or desire, but they get pissy if you do something without consulting them first.” He shrugged. “What if something happened to you? Then what would they do?”

  Roger leaned forward to ensure he was heard. “People always look to a leader when times get tough. But they also want to feel like they have a say. It’s just human nature.”

  “But why?” Buck asked. “It’s like they’re afraid to step out on their own. To do something for themselves of their own accord.”

  “Dangerous times, bud,” Hatcher commented as he scanned the area. “People do strange things when their world gets turned upside down.” He patted Buck’s arm. “Hey, turn there.”

  Buck glanced in the direction that Hatcher pointed. “See something?”

  “Just take this road.” Hatcher rubbed at his chin. “I came this way with Hank and Wally when we dumped off the two crazy guys. I think I remember seeing a nice neighborhood with tall walls.”

  Vicky sat up and looked over his shoulder as Buck turned. “Do you remember Stacey Adams? My friend from high school?”

  Hatcher glanced at her. “The one with the leg
s?”

  Vicky laughed. “Yeah, you used to say that her legs went all the way up to her armpits.” She chuckled again. “I think she used to live this way.”

  “A bit upscale,” Roger commented as he stared out the window. “But I could be forced to live around here.”

  Hatcher patted Buck’s arm. “Over there.” He pointed to the right. “That subdivision.”

  “Nice wall,” Roger commented as Buck pulled the SUV onto the street. “No gate, though.”

  “The walls are the biggest battle,” Hatcher commented as he searched the area. “We can put up a gate.”

  Buck slowed the SUV and pulled to the side of the road in front of a near-mansion. “Not all of the houses have walls around them, though.”

  Hatcher opened the door and stepped out. “No, but if there’s a wall along the greenfield, then we’re still good.”

  Buck shot a questioning look at him. “What’s a greenfield?”

  Vicky stepped past him and turned. “It’s the land between buildings. Like…okay. The land that would be between this subdivision and the next housing complex, that’s a greenfield.”

  Roger walked past the pair, his eyes searching farther down the road. “On some upscale places like this one, the builder will wrap the land with a sturdy fence or a wall before they start building houses. It keeps thieves out of their material and provides the homeowners with a sense of security.”

  Buck nodded. “I gotcha. So even if each house doesn’t have a fence or whatever, the entire housing addition might have one.”

  Hatcher turned and nodded. “Exactly.” He pointed between two houses. “I see a pretty thick looking wall back there.”

  Roger turned and stepped away, looking between houses on the other side of the street. “Unless the addition goes back a few blocks, there isn’t one over there.”

  Hatcher motioned them back to the car. “Let’s drive around and see what we see.”

  Buck took them on a tour of the perimeter and they followed the wall back around to the main street. “I think that’s it.” He turned and looked at Hatcher. “Are there enough houses?”