He started to step out into the clear when he heard voices approaching. Muttering a curse under his breath, Bob slipped back into the woods and hid behind the largest tree he could find. He waited as the two uniformed men strolled by, security the least of their worries. They would walk a bit, stop, talk, walk a bit farther, stop, and talk some more. Bob lay in wait, hoping that they would come close enough for him to brain one of them hard enough with the tire tool to end his miserable existence. One good strike across the back of the neck should do it. If the other one got him, well…so be it.
He tried not to think about how much his legs hurt as he lay crouched in the shadows and waited for the soldiers to get close enough for him to possibly strike. He shifted his weight slightly, trying to regain circulation to his feet when the two soldiers’ attention shifted. They both turned, their rifles coming to their shoulders. Neither soldier fired, and one finally chuckled, tapping his partner. Bob couldn’t see what had them so enraptured, so he risked standing. He looked beyond the soldiers and saw the zombie creatures slowly approaching the compound. They weren’t acting crazed, nor were they screaming. They weren’t sprinting or running. They were simply…walking. They didn’t look totally enraged, either. Bob stood there a moment and took in the sight of the two soldiers chuckling while the zombies slowly approached.
He stepped out of the clearing and slowly walked up behind the two soldiers as they intently watched the approaching creatures. Although they kept their rifles on them, neither soldier had his finger on the trigger…as if they knew the zombies wouldn’t attack. Bob didn’t know why this made him so angry, but it did.
He hefted the tire tool and brought it down in an angry arc across the nearest soldier’s neck where it attached to his shoulder. The reverberations through his hand and arm nearly caused him to lose his grip on the tire tool, but Bob stepped into the second soldier and swung upward as the man turned toward him, a shocked expression painted across his face. The lug wrench end of the tool caught him right under the front of his jaw, and the sickening crunch told Bob that if the man woke up, he was going to need some serious dental work.
Bob stepped back and admired his work for a moment. He smiled at himself as the tire tool slipped from his hands. He reached down and removed the rifle from the first man he had dropped and pulled a spare magazine from his belt. Slipping the magazine into his pocket, Bob began shambling toward the zombies as they came shambling toward him. He leveled the rifle at them, but their eyes never fell upon him. They were staring off into the distance as their feet carried them to whatever Fate had in store for them.
Bob stopped and stared at them as they shambled by. People of all shapes and sizes came crawling from the surrounding woods to fall into the silent compound. Some had horrendous wounds that were beginning to fester, some had bad cuts and scrapes. Some looked perfectly normal, other than a few smears of dirt and unkempt hair. Well, that and the blood-red eyes.
Bob shook his head as he watched them all shamble out of the compound and up the road he had just come down. It was if they were in a trance. He took a chance and stepped in front of one, his rifle at the ready, but the creature simply stepped aside and continued on its path.
“Pardon me,” Bob said, a smile forming as he turned and watched them go.
Bob stood a moment longer, watching them, his eyes scanning the group, but he didn’t see her. He knew the odds of her being with this group were pretty small. Of the hundreds, if not thousands that were present at the park, going by the cars abandoned along the roads, Lucky could be anywhere.
Bob turned and looked at the ranger station. He may not have a clue what the hell was going on out here, but he was willing to bet there was a phone in there.
Hatcher bolted out the back door and stood on the cement landing. His eyes scanned the woods, but he didn’t see any sign of the boy. He cupped his hands to his mouth to yell the boy’s name, when he heard a scream off in the distance. Hatcher paused. If he yelled, he’d just attract more of the infected here for them to deal with. One look at Mitch would tell you how well that works out. And if there were infected that close, Buck couldn’t yell back even if he heard him.
Slowly, Hatcher lowered his hands and sighed. As much as he hated to admit defeat, there wasn’t anything he could do.
Candy came up beside him, her eyes pleading. “You have to find him, Hatch!”
Hatcher shook his head. “Where would I start?” He waved his hands out toward the woods. “It’s only a couple million acres out there. I have no idea which way he went.”
She grabbed his arm and squeezed. “He’s just a little boy.” Candy pulled Hatcher around and stared at him. Her eyes were overflowing. “We’ve lost too many already. Can’t you do something?”
Hatcher squared his shoulder and stared deeply into her eyes. His gaze told her how much he wished he could. “Candy,” he began softly. “I have no way to begin. With all of the infected tromping around back here, I can’t track him. I have no way of knowing which tracks are his and which are…” he trailed off, his eyes breaking away. Hatcher pointed off into the woods. “I was about to yell for him when a screamer called out. If I yell now, they’ll come running for us. If he tried to yell back, they’ll know right where he is.” Hatch shook his head. “I hate to say it, but…there’s nothing I can do.”
Candy felt her chest tighten as she realized that Buck would be left on his own against ungodly odds. She felt herself begin to sob even as she tried to hold it back. She fell into Hatcher’s arms and buried her face in his chest. “He’s too little.”
“I know,” he whispered.
“If anybody can survive out there, it’s Buck,” Skeeter said softly, taking Candy’s hand. Candy sniffed back her tears and wiped at her face. She had to put on a brave face for Skeeter if nothing else. She stared down at her freckled nose and tried to smile. “Try not to worry about him, Candy. He’s tougher than he looks.”
Candy nodded and pulled the young girl to her. “You’re pretty tough yourself, you know that?”
“Not so much,” Skeeter said as Candy led her away from the door. “It was Buck that kept us going through all this.”
Hatcher took one more long look out the door before he pushed it shut. He turned the deadbolt in place and leaned against it, sighing as he stared down at Maggie, still clutching Mitch’s hand.
“We need to get ready to go,” Hatch said mechanically. “Vickers says they’re sending bombs to flatten this place.”
Maggie lifted her red-rimmed eyes and stared at him. “What?”
“Vickers said…” Hatcher paused and stared at her. “Wait, how did you know something happened to Mitch, but you didn’t hear any of my conversation with Vickers? We were right by the door?”
“I could hear you and Mitch talking. You were practically yelling after the fight with the infected and…” she choked back a sob. “Afterward, I just sort of…” she turned away.
“You what?” Hatcher demanded.
“I stopped caring. I didn’t give a damn what Vickers had to say,” she replied quietly. “I didn’t care about any of this.”
Hatcher paused, his anger quelled. He saw the depths of her feelings for Mitch now. Apparently, her flirting with him was sincere, and his oversized buddy just didn’t know how to take it. Hatcher stepped toward her and scooped her from the floor.
“We need to go,” he whispered in her ear.
Maggie went limp when Hatcher first lifted her, but she soon found her legs. He helped her to the office where Vickers was throwing files into a satchel and violently shoved a file cabinet out of the way. “Where’s my briefcase?”
Hatcher reached into his shirt and pulled out the files he had stolen from the metal case. “Looking for these?”
Vickers eyes grew wide and he reached out with a claw-like hand. “Those are Classified!”
“These are our insurance policies.”
Vickers narrowed his gaze. “Those may well be your death warrants.”
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“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Hatcher stepped out of Vickers’ reach. “If we make it out of here alive, then you get your classified orders back.”
“And what’s to stop me from simply having my men mow you down and taking them?” Vickers asked, a wicked smile crossing his features.
“The fact you don’t know if this is all of it or not.” Hatcher replied, stuffing them back into his shirt. “Play nice and you’ll find out.”
Vickers growled low in his throat, but continued stuffing his papers into the satchel. “The chopper will be here shortly.”
“As long as it’s big enough for all of us.” Candy waved her pistol at the entire crowd.
“It is.” Vickers sneered at the woman.
“Good,” Candy replied. “Because I’d hate to have to throw your ass out over the top of the mountain to save on weight.”
“Oh, my God!” Maggie breathed.
“What?” Hatcher stepped closer to see what was wrong. “Is something…” he felt his own breath catch in his throat. “Oh, my God.”
They stood at the window and watched as dozens of zombies came walking past the center. They strode right past the doors and windows and through the parking lot. From all sides of the compound they stepped out of the woods and into the clearing of the compound and began following the road out from the station and into the park.
“What the hell is going on?” Hatcher spun on Vickers.
Vickers stepped past him to the window and smiled. “It would appear that they have their…sound…thing turned on.”
Candy turned to him and stared. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Vickers ignored her as he stepped back into the office. “It’s a device that attracts the infected. Makes them docile. Eases their pain. Or, that’s what Captain Andrews claims. Attracts them like a moth to a flame.”
“Where the hell are they going?” Hatcher asked.
“I had my men take it to a clearing at the top of a rise a few miles back into the park. Up near some hot springs,” Vickers replied. “They congregate up there in one big bunch so that when the bombs come, they’re all together.”
“You ordered the bombs, didn’t you?” Hatcher asked, already knowing the answer.
“The Pentagon ordered the bombing,” Vickers lied. “I simply saw it as an opportunity to help in—”
“Bullshit!” Hatcher yelled, advancing on the man. “You did this, didn’t you?” Hatcher grabbed the thin man and went to throw him against the wall of the office, but Vickers spun, used Hatcher’s own weight against him, and threw him to the floor, using his foot against his throat to hold him there.
“Ranger,” Vickers said softly, “you can either use this opportunity to come with me and save yourself and your people, or you can stay here and die.”
Hatcher grabbed at Vickers’ ankle and tried to twist him off him, but the man was much stronger than he appeared. Vickers leaned down and reached inside Hatcher’s shirt, removing the files. He flipped them open and thumbed through them.
“As I suspected, they’re all complete.” He scowled at Hatcher as he slipped them into the satchel.
“Let him go,” Candy said quietly. She pulled the hammer back on her pistol just before she pressed it tightly against the temple of Vickers’ skull. “I’m not going to ask twice.”
Vickers lifted his foot and Hatcher rolled away, choking and gasping. “Well played.” Vickers nodded to Deputy Olson.
“You’re still a dick.” She backed up and allowed Hatcher a chance to get to his feet.
Hatcher stood, hands rubbing his throat. “You,” he coughed. “You ordered that bombing, didn’t you?”
“Would it make a difference if I had?” Vickers asked, avoiding answering. “It can’t be stopped either way.”
“I knew you were a liar.” Hatcher stepped out of the office.
“Perhaps,” Vickers called after him. “But I’m a liar that is going to save your life.”
Candy stepped away from the office door and trotted after Hatcher. “I don’t trust him.”
“Neither do I,” Hatcher replied.
Bill drove the truck toward the park, his anxiety level increasing with every mile. He kept staring at the gas gauge and praying they made it. “We’ll have to go through the concert area and all those campgrounds again, won’t we?”
“No, there’s a boat ramp turnout up ahead. You bypass all of that,” Richard said, pointing. “It goes to a deeper part of the lake with a concrete boat ramp that’s away from where all the tourists go to swim.”
Bill raised his brows and nodded. “You mean we might actually catch a break here?”
Richard shrugged. “Maybe.”
As they reached the bottom of a hill, Bill saw the sign for the boat ramp and turned down the road. The gas gauge dipped dangerously low and Richard pointed him toward another turnoff. “That’s a short cut.”
Bill turned off on it and they quickly emerged at a parking lot with a dozen or more trucks with trailers, many with boats still on them. “That’s eerie,” Bill said softly as they drove through the line of trucks.
Not a single person could be seen. More than one vehicle had a smear of something brown along the side of it that both men knew to be blood.
“Keep your eyes open,” Richard said.
Bill pulled the truck over to the loading ramp. A truck and trailer still sat in the water, the boat to be loaded or unloaded nowhere in sight. “Well, damn, I guess that would have been too easy, huh?”
“We could check the boats in the parking lot. See if any of them have keys. Maybe hook them to this and unload them in the water.”
“We’re about out of gas.”
“You got the lawnmower gas, right?”
Bill nodded, but he just wasn’t comfortable with the idea of trying to find a boat, then manually dragging the trailer over to another truck. “What about the dock?”
Richard shrugged. “It’s on the other side of the parking area.” Bill turned the truck around and they drove across the gravel to the dock area. The truck began to sputter and died just a few yards short. “Well. If there isn’t one on the dock, I guess we’ll have to use the mower gas.”
Bill stepped out of the truck and slipped his pistol into his pants. He walked to the concrete steps and peered down to the dock. He turned to Richard and gave him a thumbs-up. “There’s two of them down there. Let’s hope one of them has keys.”
The three of them walked down the long flight of steps to the floating dock, eyes constantly scanning for zombies. Richard had the creepy feeling that something was watching them, but he hadn’t even heard a bird call. The first boat they reached had a set of keys, but it was awfully small. Bill considered trying to cross the lake in such a small craft and was getting motion sickness just thinking about it. The other was a much larger, twenty-three foot pleasure craft with an open bow.
Bill stepped onboard and there weren’t any keys in it. He hung his head and turned to Richard. “I guess we’re going in the U.S.S. Upchuck.”
Richard hopped onto the larger craft. “Not everybody keeps their keys in the ignition.” He reached across to the passenger seat and opened the boat equivalent of a glove box. Presto! One set of keys, complete with a floating key ring.
“Oh, thank God,” Bill said. He looked at Richard. “Do we go back and start huffing all of our stuff down here?”
Richard cocked his head as he thought. “Not all of it. Just the cooler.”
The two men went back up to the truck and grabbed the cooler and the small bag with extra ammunition.
Just in case.
Jason stayed behind to guard the boat.
Just in case.
When they returned, Richard started the motor while Bill cast off the lines. “She’s got a full tank,” Richard said. “It will take a little over half of it to get to the other side. Once we get into the deeper water, we can set course and just let her cruise.”
Bill smiled. “Thank God zombies
can’t swim.”
Richard nodded. “No joke,” he agreed as he goosed the accelerator lever forward and steered the boat away from the dock.
Jason sat in the front of the boat and stared out across the lake. He turned back and stared into the sky, then back across the lake. He sat back down and frowned. Something bad was coming. He looked at his grandfather and Bill. They seemed so happy. What was it Bill had said? Something about telling people what they wanted to hear? Jason decided to simply say nothing at all.
Buck ran until his lungs were burning. His legs felt so weak, but he kept going. He knew he had to keep going. He had reached a small creek and slowed down. He saw the water flowing across it and it was quick. It looked so clear and Buck dipped his hands into it. It felt so cold. He cupped his hands and drank greedily from the creek. His throat was so dry from running and the metallic taste from being scared still hung in his mouth like a bad penny. Plus, his throat still stung from screaming, but the cold water felt all that much more wonderful.
After drinking his fill, Buck rolled over onto his back and stared up into the canopy of trees. He could just see bits and pieces of the blue sky beyond as the trees swayed with the high breeze and he smiled. Finally, a little piece of something close to normal.
He lay there for a moment and closed his eyes. He tried to pretend that life was normal. That he was home, Keri was yelling at him for going through her things. His mom was rushing around trying to get things done before her and dad went out for dinner. They liked to have their date nights from time to time.
Buck would sometimes stay up all night and watch movies or get on his dad’s computer and play video games. Dad’s computer had more RAM and a better video graphics card, so the games would load faster and there was no buffering in the middle of play. Dad didn’t like him being on it because he used it for work, but Buck was careful to erase his tracks. It wasn’t like he was surfing for porn. Buck chuckled to himself as he sighed and remembered how things used to be.
Out Of The Fire Page 18