Bruce honked his horn and gesticulated when I turned away from the main entrance, circling the building to park at the door we’d brought Tommy in by. It wasn’t hard to tell that he was displeased with the choice. I wasn’t surprised.
When I parked, Gwen was the first out, making a beeline for the door. She’d gotten some idea in her head and meant to make sure that Bob knew it. Estelle followed, and I was left to talk to Bruce myself.
“What in the hell, Forrest?” the old survivalist demanded when we met in front of the door the women had disappeared into.
“They’ve been really careful about letting people into the place,” I replied. “Estelle and I had to be checked out for the virus and decontaminated before they’d let us in.”
“Were you clear?” he asked.
“Yep,” I said with a nod. “I think Gwen and Estelle are trying to convince the other survivors that we’re safe.
“Government freaking agents,” Bruce spat. “Rules and procedures until everyone dies.” He took a deep breath and shot a dirty look in the direction of the CDC building. “Why am I sticking around here?”
“Because there are people who could use your help?” I asked in return. “Because you’ve got the know-how to survive anything?”
“Forrest,” he told me. “I’m just an angry old fart that built a life around surviving the end of the world. What use could I be to a group of eggheads and a couple of soldiers?”
“You might be surprised,” I told him, then leaned in and whispered, “They’ve got reliable power for at least five years.”
“So do I, back in Arizona,” Bruce grumbled. “Solar, batteries, stabilized fuel, and even a god-damn windmill.”
“They cause cancer, you know,” I said with a low chuckle.
Bruce snorted and shook his head.
“You’re an asshole,” he said with a smile beneath his gray mustache. “You know, it sucks that not even the Center for Disease Control has no idea what happened. I didn’t want to believe that America was dead, but I guess you’re right. We’ve got to step up and make a new world for ourselves.”
“Hear, hear,” I agreed, leaning back against my truck. “I’ve got a homestead about two hours from here, maybe a little more, and I need to get back.”
“Are you suggesting I play shepherd for the unfortunates hiding away in this big steel and glass structure?” he asked, the smile fading from his lips.
“I’m saying I’ve got a responsibility,” I said. “Someone’s waiting for me.”
“I’ll think about it,” Bruce said.
“Hey,” Gwen, out of her encounter suit, poked her head out the doors. “I’ve sold everyone else on the all-clear, so they’re going to come and unload the truck.”
“No tests?” Bruce asked.
“Nope. We’ve got all the samples we need, so grab some boxes and get your asses in here.”
The saying that many hands make light work is pretty much true. We unloaded the Dodge quickly with everyone helping. Once we were done, Jeremy volunteered to cook something and disappeared with a selection of cans and pasta.
I went with Estelle to check on Tommy and found him awake. One of the other doctors had given him some comic books, and he looked perkier than I’d seen him, well, ever. Bruce decided to tag along rather than wander the facility, but I could tell it was an effort of will for him.
“Hey, Tommy,” I said.
“Mister Forrest,” the kid whispered. “Doctor White. Thank you.” His voice sounded rough, and he started coughing just from those few words.
“No need to talk, kid,” I said as I walked over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Just nod or shake your head.”
Estelle stood just inside the door, with Bruce behind her. He seemed edgy around the kid, like part of him was warring with another part.
Tommy nodded and smiled gratefully.
“You feeling better, I guess?”
He nodded and reached up to touch his throat. I nodded and made a sympathetic face.
“They’re taking good care of you then?” I asked.
The kid nodded again and indicated some empty pudding cups sitting on his bedside table, along with a popsicle wrapper and a cup of water. I chuckled, nodded, then looked up at Estelle.
“I’ve got to get back to the farm,” I said, “But y’all are close enough that I’ll visit at least once a week, and once you’re well enough, you can come with me and visit Jackie and the critters.”
Tommy pouted a little when I mentioned leaving, but brightened when I told him I’d be back, and that he could go to the farm once he was well.
My heart went out to the boy, and I reached out and gripped his thin shoulder in silence. Our eyes met for a moment, and he smiled, looking, for the moment, healthy.
“Alright, kid,” I said. “I need to go talk to the doctors. You gonna be okay?”
Once again, he nodded, then puffed out his breath in a quiet sigh before giving me a curious look and pointing at Bruce. I smirked a little and waved to the older man, who slumped a little, then edged in past the doctor.
“This is Bruce Gassler,” I said to Tommy. “He knows a lot about surviving things and didn’t even get sick. Can you believe it?”
Bruce and Tommy looked at each other seriously for a long moment, then the kid turned his head to me and shook his head vigorously. He didn’t believe it.
“Brat,” Bruce muttered. “It’s true.”
“It is,” I told Tommy. “That means he’s really smart.”
“Despite how he looks,” Estelle threw in.
Tommy giggled, then started coughing.
“See what you’ve done,” Bruce turned on her and put his hands on his hips. “You made the boy cough.”
“Okay, Tommy,” I said when he’d settled down again. “You need to get some rest, and I need to take care of things. You’ll see me again before I go.”
He nodded and held his arms out to me. I leaned in and gave the kid a tight hug. Once he let me go, he motioned for Estelle, who didn’t hesitate to give the boy a hug as well. When he did the same to Bruce, we all were surprised.
“Are you sure, kid?” the old man asked. “I mean, you don’t know me from Adam’s housecat…”
Tommy just gave Bruce a level look and kept his arms out until the survivalist gave in and gave the boy an awkward hug. Satisfied, his majesty Tommy the first settled back and picked up one of his comics. We were dismissed.
From there, we went to the cafeteria where everyone had gathered, including Angela.
“No guard outside?” I teased.
“Not since the one problem came inside,” she said, sticking her tongue out at me. “Bob says it’s safe to ditch the protective gear.”
I nodded and looked over at Doctor Finley.
“Gwen made a good point,” he admitted. “Since you, Tommy, and Estelle showed no sign of the pathogen, and mister Gassler made it all the way from Arizona to Atlanta without being exposed at all. I don’t believe we need to worry about infection.”
“I suspect,” Gwen spoke up. “That after the initial burst, the disease died off. Most viruses don’t live more than twenty-four hours under ideal conditions. I’ll know more once I finish analyzing the biopsy samples from the corpses.”
“Good,” I said. “I’ve got to head back to check on the farm. If you want, I’ll come back, and I’ve asked Bruce here to help, at least until I can get back.”
“And I would like to reluctantly offer my expertise,” the man in question said. “You have much of what you need, but there are efficient ways to survive and make the best of any bad situation.” His bright blue eyes swept the room with their piercing gaze. He took the sunglasses off inside, apparently, but not the cap. “What would you do, say, if you lost power?”
“Impossible,” said Jeremy.
Philip and Angie just rolled their eyes, and I hid a smirk behind a cough.
“Nothing,” Bruce rounded on the young doctor. “Is impossible. The moment you th
ink it is is the moment your ass is grass.” He shook an accusing finger in Jeremy’s face. “You’re right to enlist my aid. I can increase your survivability from about twenty percent to about seventy-five percent, depending on how well you learn your lessons.”
The old man had a definite force of personality. I kind of liked him, despite his shitty social skills and overly blunt demeanor. Some intuition told me that Bruce Grassley, as irascible as he was, would be a good man to have at my back in any kind of danger.
I didn’t seem to be the only one Bruce had won over, either. Phillip nodded along while the old fellow berated Jeremy and Robert. At least he was mostly nice to the women, but something about Angie seemed to raise his hackles. Maybe it had to do with female soldiers, but that didn’t quite feel right.
Then I thought about it and chuckled to myself. She’d pointed her rifle at him, barred him peaceful entry, and generally caused him to waste his time after driving all the way from Arizona to here. Specialist Powers had simply gotten onto Bruce Gassley’s bad side.
When he paused for breath, I broke in and said, “Unless you folks need me, I’m going to go ahead and head out. I’ll be back in a week or so, and I’ll leave directions in the break room.”
“You won’t stay the night?” Angie pouted.
“I’ve been away too long,” I replied. “Even with my radio…”
“What are you using to communicate all the way back to Opelika?” Bruce asked.
“Portable ham,” I replied. “Probably around three-hundred mile range with the four-hundred-watt inverter I’ve got it hooked up to.”
“See,” the old survivalist beamed. “This is a man who knows his shit. I’ve got a full-sized unit in the back of my truck, with enough power to probably hit two-thousand miles or so. What channel are you using, and we can stay in contact while you’re at the farm.”
I should have suspected mister Grassley would have the means to keep contact. He may even have reached out to other survivors.
“One-forty-six point five-twenty,” I replied.
“One of the survivalist channels,” Bruce observed. “Good choice.”
I hadn’t known that when Jackie and I chose a channel to use for our attempt to keep in touch, but I just nodded and grinned. I didn’t want the old prepper to know that I was pretty clueless when it came to the survivalist community.
What followed was a round of friendly goodbyes and other sorts of well-wishing. I shook hands with the two male doctors, Bruce, and Phillip, then got tight hugs from Estelle, Angie, and Gwen.
“I’ll contact you in…” I looked at my watch. “About four hours, just to account for any possible delays. Sound good?”
“On the dot,” Bruce said. He’d taken command like he was born to it. Even the doctors seemed a little overwhelmed. “Watch your six, soldier.”
“Will do, sir,” I said, snapping off a salute.
He returned it cleanly, and I performed my best about-face and marched out. Angie hurried after me.
“Hold up, Henry,” she said. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Sure,” I said, and with her walking alongside, I made a stop to grab the rest of my kit that I’d brought in. My mind was already on the road and thinking of Jackie.
Once we were out the door, Angie took me completely by surprise, grabbing the lapels of my coat and pulling me around and down for a passionate, almost desperate kiss. I stiffened for a moment in surprise, then quickly gave in.
“Come back safely,” she murmured at last against my lips. Then she fled, disappearing back into the building.
“Well, damn,” I muttered to myself as I stared after her. That was an invitation if I’d ever seen one, or maybe it was a promise for later. I wasn’t sure if it complicated things or not, but I’d definitely have to figure that out.
29
Jackie said she wasn’t the jealous type, but I felt both good and weird after Angie kissed me. I kept mulling it over in my head. Would I tell my lover what had happened? Definitely. If I’d had more time, would it have gone further than just a very promising kiss? Probably, depending on what Angie wanted, but I was kind of glad it didn’t. Not yet, at least.
Still, I was driving distracted all the way back to Opelika. This caused me one major problem. I didn’t notice the Kenmore accelerating up the merge lane towards me from the Alabama Welcome Center until it was too late. A violent crash brought me back to reality. The back end of the Dodge slewed to the left, and I tried to correct as the Kenmore’s air horn blasted in my ears loud enough to deafen me.
The weight of the larger truck pushed the rear of my vehicle further out of line in a classic pit maneuver. I went sideways, felt the wheels lift off the ground on the right side of the truck, and then the Dodge was rolling. Glass cracked and shattered while I tried to keep my wits about me.
After what seemed like an eternity, it was over. My beloved truck rested in the median, sitting right-side-up squarely on her own four tires. All the windows were blown out, beads of glass were everywhere, along with a splatter of blood here and there. My body ached and felt heavy as I started moving. Someone had done this deliberately, and they were still out there.
I was going to kill them.
It took a moment to fumble free of my seatbelt, then a couple of kicks to get the broken driver’s door open. I half-crawled and half-fell out of the truck into the muddy grass.
Old reflexes kicked in, and I drew my sidearm as I rose to my feet. I needed cover. Where was the semi? My head pounded, and the world tilted crazily for a moment when I scanned the nearby road.
There it was, parked maybe a hundred yards or so down the blacktop, smoke belching from its stacks. I staggered into the shadow of my truck and pressed against the battered metal shell. I was going to kill this asshole.
First, though, I had to see him. From this angle and distance, I didn’t even have a good shot. Despite the Les Baer’s accuracy and reliability, a hundred yards for an iron-sighted pistol was still a feat, especially with my head in its current state.
Hopefully, this ambusher didn’t have friends waiting nearby. I risked a look around and saw no-one. That didn’t really mean much. I was having a hell of a time seeing, anyway. I didn’t want to leave my truck, the ammo load wasn’t much compared to what I had back at the farm, but there was the radio…
Shit.
I slid along the side of the truck and looked in through the open door. There was no sign of the radio, but both the shotgun and the rifle I’d brought sat cradled in their racks.
Range. I needed range if I was going to ruin this bastard’s day. Moving slowly and carefully, I unlocked the 6.5 Creedmoor first and slid it out. Damn, but that thing weighed a ton, and my body still wouldn’t respond right. I risked another look at the Kenmore. It was still there, unmoving but running. The only door I could see was closed.
That didn’t mean anything, though. I took my prize and slid back out. “Escape and evade,” ran through my brain. I was armed, had a little spare ammo, and was in a resource-rich area. Twenty minutes of jogging would put me back at a truck stop or two, and maybe even a Walmart. I couldn’t remember, and my head wouldn’t stop ringing.
The semi’s engine revved. What the hell was this, Maximum Overdrive? I hadn’t seen anyone in the cab, but they had to be there, right? I took another look and watched the vehicle make a slow u-turn before aiming its shiny chrome grill at my derelict Dodge and me.
“Screw you,” I muttered under my breath as the Kenmore growled again. Smoke poured from its stacks, and it started accelerating. I brought the Creedmoor around, squinted through the scope, and squeezed off three shots from the semi-automatic rifle.
One punched a hole in the windshield where it looked like a man’s shadow was. The truck veered to my left, and the next two shots went into the grill. Steam burst from the truck’s ruptured radiator, and the smoke from the stacks went suddenly black as an unpleasant grinding broke through the diesel rumble. I’d hit something vital.
/> The door to the truck opened as it ground to a halt, and a man in what looked like SWAT fatigues tumbled out. I couldn’t tell if I’d hit him or not at this distance, but he brought up some kind of shorty AR-15 and started banging rounds off in my general direction as he sidled towards the woods on the other side of the road.
I kept my head down and hunkered behind the heaviest part of my poor truck as bullets punched into it. How many shots did he have in that thing? Twenty? Thirty? I hadn’t gotten a good look at the clip, and he wasn’t just spraying fire. It was rhythmic and controlled shooting, which spoke of training to me. So I bided my time while he turned my wrecked Dodge into swiss cheese, then when he paused, I quickly rose and swept the Creedmoor to bear.
My opponent was in the midst of swapping magazines but reacted like an experienced gunfighter when I popped up. He dove to the side and went to ground in the drainage ditch just as I fired. That shot missed, but it blew up a divot of dirt and grass the size of my fist.
I held my ground, then, watching the area where the man had disappeared.
“Come on out, asshole,” I yelled. “Throw out your weapons, and I won’t shoot you.” Under my breath, I added, “Much.”
Faint laughter answered me. Great, this guy was a crazy. That was just what I needed.
“Why should I surrender?” the man yelled back. “I have you right where I want you, and you have something I want.”
“Yeah, right,” I shot back. “Looks to me like I’ve got you pinned down.”
“You think?” he yelled.
That was when the Kenmore exploded.
Fortunately, I was far enough away and behind cover, so it didn’t just kill me outright. The detonation felt like a giant punched me in the chest and clapped my ears at the same time. I threw myself down as bits of truck and road rained around me. Under the chassis of the Dodge, I saw the man jump up and take off into the woods at a dead run. I rolled over, drew my .45, and emptied the magazine after him.
Maybe one shot out of eight caught him, as I saw the runner stagger for a moment before he disappeared into the wooded border between the interstate and whatever else was back there.
After The Virus (Book 1): After The Virus Page 20