Caldera 9: From The Ashes

by Stallcup, Heath

  He nodded as he studied the street. “We’d have to enclose the front entrance for two blocks.”

  Roger sat forward. “I bet we can find the materials easy enough to do that.”

  Hatcher glanced at his watch. “Let’s head back and grab Will. He’ll need to do an assessment on this place and see if this is doable.”

  The helicopter bounced once before the wheels set down on terra firma. Broussard stared out the side window at the rows of dead vehicles covered in months of dirt and dust. “It looks deserted.”

  The officer tugged at the side door and almost gleefully hopped down, ignoring the other passengers. He turned and waved a hand to other armed men pouring out from the mountain facility.

  “I suppose we should follow him,” Carol grumbled as she stepped around Andre.

  “I’d rather not.” He scanned the area and noted the rough terrain. The roads were nearly impassible and the vehicles looked inoperable. “If we had to make a run for it, we’d be stuck sticking to the roads, I fear.”

  Carol sighed as he hefted her bag. “Let’s hope your gut is wrong then.” She peered back at the chopper then to Broussard. “I doubt we could outrun that anyway.”

  He clutched his satchel and scooped up his small duffel with the other hand. Falling into step behind Carol, he actually sighed with relief as people wearing white lab coats streamed out of the concrete monstrosity. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”

  Carol turned and whispered to him. “Ever hear ‘don’t count your chickens’? Let’s not assume all is well quite yet, either.”

  “Dr. Broussard! Dr. Chaplain!” A short, thin man approached them, his hand held out. “I am Dr. Higgins. I’m thrilled that you could join us.”

  “I don’t think we had much of a choice,” Broussard mumbled.

  Carol smacked him in the middle, shutting him up. “Dr. Higgins, so pleased to meet you.” She extended her hand. “I would apologize for my colleague here, but we both are a bit confused about why it was insisted that we come in person. Surely we could have discussed the treatment via radio or satellite.”

  Dr. Higgins’ face fell. “Oh.” He appeared perturbed and glanced at his colleagues. “Well, I apologize. We never meant to put you out, of course.”

  “It’s quite alright,” Carol responded before Andre could reply. “We are just confused, really.”

  “Of course.” Dr. Higgins motioned them through the oversized chain link gates. “If you’ll follow me, we’ll get you settled in and bring you up to speed.” He turned and gave them both a winning smile. “I’m sure you’re exhausted after your trip.”

  Broussard stared at the tall opening leading into the mountain. “Is the entire facility underground?”

  “Yes, it is.” Higgins’ head bobbed as he spoke. “It’s actually quite comfortable inside, once you get used to not having windows. The earth maintains a pretty constant temperature, so there is little need for heating or cooling.” He paused and pointed to moisture condensing on the walls. “Of course, with limited power, we can’t run the dehumidifiers as often as we should.”

  “Is there a mold problem?” Carol asked.

  “Not yet, and hopefully the generators will be back online soon, and…” He trailed off then turned and gave them a look they couldn’t read. “There is actually a small nuclear reactor deeper in the facility, but we ran into issues. The reactor had to be scrammed and we’ve been unable to recover. Power output is minimal, to say the least.” He cleared his throat nervously. “However, once we have the backup generators up and running, we should be able to power the hydraulics and get the core active again.”

  Broussard raised a brow at him. “You have nuclear power here?”

  Higgins’ head bobbed again. “Oh, yes. Being as this facility was designed to house the government, should we ever face nuclear Armageddon, they wanted to ensure that power was uninterrupted.”

  Carol gave him a shocked stare. “So, in the event of a nuclear war, the government holes up in a place powered by nukes?”

  Higgins’ head bobbed again. “It’s actually quite safe, I assure you.”

  “That’s why the reactor was scrammed?” Broussard quipped.

  “Oh, no.” Higgins shook his head. “Some of the people inside became infected and…” He shrugged. “Well, a few of them caused some damage before they could be stopped.” He turned and continued leading them deeper into the facility. “Of course, the reactor scrammed right when the gennys ran out of power and, well…it was a cascade of failures. We were left here without communications, limited power and, other than food, water, and shelter from the elements, little in the way of resources.”

  Broussard groaned as he followed the man deeper inside. “What has changed then?”

  Higgins turned and gave him a broad smile. “Why, your work, of course! Now that the cure has been seeded, we were able to unseal the doors and venture out.” He turned back and continued along the concrete hallway. “Just a little at a time, of course.”

  “Of course,” Carol muttered.

  “We had to make sure the surrounding areas were safe before we attempted to travel further afield. The fuel that was kept here had more water than fuel in it. The gennys needed replacement parts that…well, let’s just say that things fell apart on us and we had to make do. In a way, doctors, you freed us.”

  Higgins turned into a short and gloomy hallway. “These two rooms are for you. You can decide which you’d prefer.” He turned again and pointed down the main hallway. “Our lab is right down there. If you wish to drop off your things, I’ll take you down and introduce you to the rest of the CDC.”

  Carol glanced at Andre and shrugged. “In for a penny?”

  “In for a pound.”

  “That’s the second time that Tahoe has driven by,” Lana whispered. “Do you think it’s the same people that drove by the other day?”

  Simon stared through the blinds at the limited view from the tree in the front yard. “I don’t know. I don’t recognize the vehicle.” He released the blinds and turned to her. “If it’s the same people, they were in a truck before.”

  “What does this mean, Simon?” She couldn’t mask the fear in her voice.

  He slowly shook his head and eyed her nervously. “The only other people I know of in this area are the cagers.”

  Her hands began to tremble as she paced the living room. “I know we planned on getting an RV and hitting the road, but…” She turned and faced him, anger in her eyes. “I don’t like the idea of being forced out.” She clenched her jaw as she paced. “When it was our idea that was one thing.” She turned and pointed at the window. “But them coming here and forcing us out is another.”

  Simon tried to pull her into an embrace to help calm her down, but she sidestepped him and continued pacing. “Lana, I don’t know who it is or what they want, but they’re gone now.”

  “What if they come back?” She clenched her jaw again and exhaled forcefully. “What if they decide to come back and stay?”

  He gave her a weak smile. “We’d have neighbors?”

  “If they’re the cagers that you hate so much, I don’t think I’d want to be neighbors.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t think they’d want us as neighbors either.”

  Simon shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. It might be nice to have somebody to borrow a cup of sugar from.”

  She nearly glared at him. “If that’s the same people who tried to kill you?” She shook with anger as the words caught in her throat. “Do you really think they’d let bygones be bygones? Do you think they’d want you as a neighbor?” She threw her hands up in despair. “Or me? I still look like a Quee!”

  Simon pulled her close and refused to let her go. “You are beautiful, do you hear me?” He shook her gently to get her attention. “Fuck them if they can’t see that.”

  She sighed heavily and tried to force herself to stop trembling. “I’m not getting a warm fuzzy feeling from them driving around here.”

 
“Neither am I.” He lifted her chin to peer into her eyes. “And if they come back, we’ll let them know that they’re not welcome here.”

  She stared at him for a moment. “You’d go to war with a whole group of people just to keep them away?”

  “I’d kill anybody that tried to harm you.”

  She could see that he meant every word, and it softened her expression. “We’re just two people, Simon.” She slowly shook her head, her face a mask of sadness. “I don’t think we’d win.”

  Simon shrugged. “Then we run them off long enough that we can make a getaway.” He pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose again. “We find that RV and head for the hills.”

  She sighed and melted into his chest. “I trust you, Simon.”

  “Good.” He rubbed at her back with his good arm. “Because I meant it. I’m not gonna let anybody hurt the woman I love.”

  30

  Will Stanton walked along the street, studying the terrain and the wall surrounding the subdivision. “We couldn’t do rollaway gates,” he muttered.

  “What’s that?” Hatcher asked.

  “The gates entering the property.” He pointed to the cement curbs. “We’d have to install swinging gates. A roll away couldn’t get over the edges of the sidewalk.”

  “How hard do you think it will be?” Buck asked.

  Will bent low and sighted along the front edge of the wall. “If they’re solid, then it won’t be hard at all.” He turned and gave them both a knowing look. “If they’re decorative, like the Styrofoam sections we ran into at the retirement village? We’d be wasting our time.”

  “How would we test that?” Buck asked.

  Will stood and walked back to the truck. “That’s why I brought rudimentary tools.” He dug through the toolboxes and withdrew a drill. He attached a long masonry bit and tightened it. “I can tell you shortly what we’re looking at.” He clipped a tool belt to his waist and slid a hammer into the holster.

  Buck walked with him to the corner of the wall and watched as Will leaned into the drill at high speed. The masonry bit chewed through the soft sandstone, spitting out a steady rain of reddish brown earth.

  “This part appears solid,” Will stated as he withdrew the bit. He looked down the wall and shook his head. “I won’t be able to tell about the rest until I test it.”

  “You gonna have to drill into the whole thing?” Buck asked.

  Will shook his head as he pulled the hammer. “I should be able to get an idea with this.” He held the hammer up and tapped along the edge of the wall. The resounding ting made the wall sound solid. He began to walk along the front, tapping at regular intervals.

  Buck looked to Hatcher. “What’s he doing?”

  “Checking if the wall is solid or not.” Hatcher grinned as he fell into step behind the engineer. “If you hear a dull thud, then it’s probably foam under stucco.”

  Will reached the end of the front section of wall and turned to face the two men. “So far, it’s all solid. And from the looks of it, it’s probably stabilized, rammed earth.”

  “What’s that?” Buck asked.

  Hatcher pointed to the discoloration in the walls that formed waves. “They layer the earth in a form then hydraulically mash it until it’s like stone. The little streaks of grey is where they didn’t get the cement mixed in well with the soil.”

  “You are correct, sir,” Will agreed as he slipped his hammer back into the holster. “I can walk the perimeter and check the rest of the structure, but judging from what I’m seeing, odds are that it’s all rammed earth.”

  “You do your thing, doc.” Hatcher pulled Buck aside. “We’re going to check out some of the houses and see what condition they’re in.”

  “Do be careful, Mr. Hatcher.” Will pushed his glasses back up onto his nose as he spoke. “Although the Zulus have been exposed to the cure…”

  Hatcher nodded. “Understood. You be careful as well.” He glanced to Buck. “Do you want somebody to come with you?”

  Will turned and looked down the length of the wall. “I think I’ll be safe.” He gave the pair a mock salute. “I’ll catch up with you shortly.”

  Hatcher and Buck went to the first house and pushed open the gate. “They don’t look very old, do they?”

  “I think the people who could afford these homes had a tendency to keep them maintained.” He paused at the door and rattled the knob. “I’d bet they’re older than you are.”

  Buck stepped off the porch and cupped his hands to the window. “Looks empty.”

  “I’m sure it is.” Hatcher stared up at the second floor windows then across at the dining room window. “I would say let’s check the back but…” He leaned out and looked at the other houses on the block. “Let’s just find one that’s open.”

  The pair broke away and went house to house, rattling door knobs and investigating the houses that were unlocked.

  Buck grinned as he stomped down the stairs of the latest. “Each house we look at, I’m thinking, ‘Ooh, I like this one. I could see me and Skeeter living here!’ then we go to the next and I find something else cool that I like.”

  Hatcher waved him to the next house. “You can’t have them all.” He peered at the solid oak door and reached for the knob. “You’ll have to pick one and stick to it.”

  “I’m not keen on moving more than once.” Buck laughed.

  As Hatcher tried the knob, the door opened and a screech followed by a flutter had both men diving to the sides, their screams muted only by the screams of what flew out the front.

  Hatcher rolled to his back and laughed as a huge parrot flew across the street and into a nearby tree. “How the flying fuck…?”

  Buck came to his knees and grumbled a few epithets at the cartoonish bird. “I wonder how he survived this long?” He stepped up to the door and pushed it open.

  He stood aside as Hatcher came up behind him and they both stared in disbelief. The entire house was covered in bird shit. “I don’t think this one will make the list,” Buck muttered as he stepped gingerly over the growing piles.

  “How in the world…?” Hatcher trailed off.

  Buck pointed to an oversized aquarium. “I bet he was drinking from that.”

  “But what was he eating?” Hatcher turned the corner into the kitchen and froze. A stack of ripped open bird seed and assorted treats were scattered around the floor. “Well. I guess that answers that.”

  Buck sighed as he turned back to the front door. “That stupid pigeon scared about ten years off my life.”

  “I didn’t have ten years to spare,” Hatcher grumbled as he pulled the door shut.

  The pair stood on the front stoop and eyed the other houses. “What do you figure? Maybe a third is open?”

  Hatcher shrugged. “Maybe closer to half.” He slapped the young man across the shoulder. “Onward and upward.”

  The pair walked to the next house and Buck let loose a low whistle. “I like this one already.” He pointed to the open garage and the red convertible sitting inside.

  “You can have it,” Hatcher muttered. “I’ve never had very good luck with little sports cars.”

  Buck chuckled as he walked through the garage and gave it the once over. “Something tells me that there’s a story involved there.”

  Hatcher shook his head. “I was young and dumb once.” He glanced at Buck and smirked. “Her name was Rhonda. That’s all I’m gonna say about that.” He reached for the door leading into the house and found it unlocked. “Care to see your future home?”

  Buck stepped inside and quickly stepped out. “I think somebody left the fridge open.” He waved a hand in front of his face. “Or maybe there’s a body inside?”

  Hatcher pulled the door shut. “I guess you can still claim the car.”

  The pair walked out and stared down the line of houses. “I think it’s safe to say that the majority of these are habitable.”

  “Unless everybody’s pets took up residence.” Buck mutt
ered. They saw Will walking along the far wall, still tapping away. “Should we join him?”

  “Let’s check a few more houses.” Hatcher turned and stared down the next block. “Those up by the road have privacy walls around them.” He gave Buck a grin. “I think I’ll claim one of those.”

  “If you take the one on the corner, then I elect you to man the new gate as well,” Buck quipped.

  Hatcher stopped and gave him a hard look. “I thought I was the leader of this ragtag group of functional basket cases.”

  Buck snorted as he walked past him. “You gotta retire some time.”

  Directly after meeting the eight surviving members that made up the CDC, Broussard had already forgotten most of their names. Higgins was proving himself to be “flighty” at best, and downright moronic the rest of the time.

  “And this is the man left in charge of the entire Center for Disease Control?” he quietly asked Carol.

  She gave him a slow shrug. “I suppose beggars can’t be choosy?”

  They continued their tour of the facility and Higgins seemed almost giddy as he pointed out each piece of equipment. “And if you’ll follow me into this antechamber, this is where we kept the test subjects.”

  Broussard balked and gave the man a wide eyed look. “Do you still have infected people onsite?”

  Higgins paused and gave him a confused look. “Oh, no. No, no, no…they all were…‘retired’ once their usefulness was over.”

  “You killed them?” Carol asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

  Higgins paused, taking a deep breath. “Well, they were really no longer useful. And besides, your cure handed us an opportunity.”

  “To do what, exactly?” Broussard asked, his anger beginning to rise.

  “To start with a clean slate,” Higgins stated proudly.

  “Wait, so you had infected here but rather than expose them to the cure, you simply ‘retired' them?” Carol’s voice raised nearly an octave as she spoke.