by Dirk Patton
I didn’t care. It didn’t matter that several times I nearly went into a guardrail that didn’t look like it could have stopped a Tonka Toy, let alone a real vehicle. I knew that deep, rugged ravines were on the other side of those railings, but didn’t give a shit. All I knew was Mavis needed me.
In a moment of clarity, it occurred to me that I didn’t know what was so urgent about finding her. For that matter, why had she taken our car and gone back to the city? But then, how the hell did I know that’s what she’d done? The last thing I could clearly remember before Katie had wakened me was climbing the slope with Mavis.
What had spurred her to take off on her own? Did she think I was dead? Had she changed her mind and decided to go with the Aborigine biker instead of me? But why had Katie kept telling me she was in danger?
As my feverish mind thought over the questions it was asking, I acknowledged that Katie hadn’t really been there. She had been a dream or manifestation of whatever was wrong with me. My addled brain’s way of forcing me to get off my ass. To do something. But again, why?
I couldn’t consider that question. Thoughts of my wife suddenly filled me with such a profound sense of loss that my shoulders slumped and my foot slipped off the accelerator. The truck slowed for a moment, then anger returned. Anger that I was still having to fight. Anger that people I loved were still dying or in mortal danger.
I’d thought I was going to end all of this. Kill Barinov and secure my vengeance as well as remove the impediment to the evacuation of Hawaii to the mainland desert in Arizona. I’d been mentally prepared to give my life in exchange for his, as long as the bastard was six feet under. And if there is an afterlife, I’d find him and torture the motherfucker for all of eternity.
Not only had I failed, but in my desire to kill him I’d allowed Rachel to go into the lion’s den. And she’d been taken by that very same beast. Was she alive? Had Lucas managed to find and rescue her from the Russians? I had no way to know, but if I was being honest with myself, I couldn’t imagine a scenario in which Lucas had been able to pull it off.
Gripping the wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white, I leaned forward and screamed at the windshield. Not frustration, but sheer, unbridled fury. It was like a force within, driving me. I wanted to find an enemy, any enemy, and exorcise my demons. No, it was more than that. I wanted to break their bones and rend their flesh. Lose myself in a bloody orgy of death.
I’ve always been a low-key kind of guy. If you don’t know me well, you don’t see many emotions. Even those that are intimately familiar with me will often think I’m uninterested or uncaring. It takes a lot to get me excited or angry.
I’m not talking about the kind of mad one experiences over a bad turn of events. Shit happens, and I learned at a very early age to just roll with the punches. Bide my time and deal with whatever was coming my way. That trait has served me well throughout my life. I was never the guy that drew attention to myself without a reason.
But there’s always been a berserker buried deep inside. And I’ve always been careful about letting him out because when he’s in control, there is no reason. No sanity. No veneer of civilization. Only death.
Now, he was pounding on the door of the cage I kept him locked in. Not with his fists, but with a gigantic fucking battle axe. He’d been out to stretch his legs a few times since the day of the attacks, but I’d always kept him on a leash. Sometimes a longer lead than others, but I’d never allowed him to assume control because I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to put the genie back in the bottle.
The world was not a place for a mindless killing machine. No matter who you are or how ferocious a warrior, there are always more infected than one man can face alone. And if I had unleashed him without restraint, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have found myself wading into an unsurvivable battle.
Despite everything that had happened in the past year, I’d wanted to live. I’d wanted to be with the people I cared about. Loved. But who was left? For all I knew, Lucas and Rachel were gone. Gut churning sour acid, I pounded on the wheel so hard I was surprised it didn’t bend, then had to steer through a sweeping curve.
Ahead, the land opened up. I’d reached the foothills of the mountains and the broad coastal plain where Sydney and its suburbs were located spread out in front of me. There were a handful of pockets still showing electric lights, but the sprawling metropolis was mostly dark. Dozens of fires dotted the unlit areas, but they had to be massive for me to spot from this distance. Perhaps entire neighborhoods going up in flames.
The berserker pounded, wanting out. He sensed he was about to be unchained. Freed to fulfill his desire to wreak unbelievable havoc on anyone who stood in his way. He was also whispering in my ear. Reminding me of all the deaths and planting the seed that they were my fault for not having completely freed him of his bonds long before now.
Anderson. Mayo. Jackson. Crawford. Martinez. Scott. Katie. Nitro. And so many more. He recited their names in time with each blow of the axe onto the cage bars. And with each, the door cracked opened a little farther. He was almost out. Ready to bring blind rage and mindless death and destruction with him. I didn’t know how much longer I could contain him.
Chrome and glass glinted in the truck’s headlights. My internal demon fell silent, but hadn’t given up. He was waiting to see what was about to happen. Hoping I would throw the door wide open.
I let off the gas, slowing well short of the vehicle sitting in the middle of the highway. Killing the lights, I slipped the night vision goggles into place and ignored the car in favor of scanning the surrounding area. If this was an ambush, no better way to attack an unwary traveler.
The gas stations didn’t have power. It was too dangerous with the infected to go into a grocery store for food, or a pharmacy for medical supplies. So, if you want someone to stop so you can take what they have, put something out there to tempt them. An abandoned vehicle might have fuel that can be siphoned. Perhaps food and water. Anyone would be hard pressed to pass up the opportunity to check.
The terrain on either side of the road was rolling, dotted with scrub brush and stunted trees. Plenty of places for a dozen bandits to hide. But I didn’t see any. And unless these were trained soldiers, I didn’t see a group of bad guys having the forethought to worry about their prey being equipped with night vision and taking appropriate precautions. It simply wasn’t something the average civilian factored in to this type of equation.
After several minutes, I was satisfied I was alone, unless there was a squad of Australian troops out there. And if that was the case, I’d been targeted by at least one of them with a thermal or night vision scoped rifle since I’d pulled to a stop. If there were soldiers that wanted to take me out, they would have done so already.
Raising the NVGs to save the batteries, I clicked the Toyota’s lights back on and advanced slowly. Concern coursed through me when I drew close enough to recognize the sedan Mavis had taken. I’d been worrying about its fuel state when we stopped for the night and this was as far as she’d made it before running dry.
The pounding on the cage resumed as I set the parking brake and stepped out into the night. I tried to push him down, silence his demands for blood, but he was steadily growing more difficult to control.
I took a breath of fearful anticipation when I reached the car and looked through the driver’s door. It had been left hanging open. When I saw no signs of violence or injury, I sighed in relief and stuck my head inside. Keys in the ignition, still turned to on. The needle on the fuel gauge buried as far below the big red E as it could go. The car had died and Mavis had simply gotten out and started walking without even bothering to close it up.
But to where? And why? There was only one way to answer those questions. Jogging back to the truck, I jumped in and roared ahead on the road to Sydney.
48
Martinez whirled, bypassing her rifle and opting for a knife. Her arm was already in motion, raising it in preparation for a throw, but when sh
e saw the person who’d spoken she hesitated. A young woman, still in her late teens, stared back at her. Their eyes locked and despite the girl’s weapon aimed in her general direction, Martinez didn’t see any aggression. Slowly, she lowered the blade, but didn’t sheathe it.
Titus had scrambled to the side, opening room between them and pulling his shotgun around, but had also paused. He squinted in surprise, glancing at Martinez. Willing to follow her lead.
“The person out in the rocks with you?” Martinez asked quietly.
“They’re both with me,” another voice said.
An older woman stepped from behind another set of rocks to Titus’s side. He looked over his shoulder, then did a double take. She was in her early forties with long dark hair pulled into a tight pony tail. Dressed in camouflage fatigues, she carried a rifle with confidence. Despite this, her beauty was undeniable. She’d definitely caught Titus’s attention.
“You’re the pilot.”
It wasn’t a question. After a long pause, Martinez nodded and slowly stood to face the taller woman. They looked at each other for a beat, then she turned to the girl.
“You and Bethany check the area. Make sure we’re still alone.”
The girl nodded and slipped away on silent feet.
“I’m Anna,” the woman said. “What are the two of you doing here?”
“I’d be more inclined to talk if you weren’t aiming a rifle at me,” Martinez said.
Anna looked her up and down before smiling and nodding at the blade still in Martinez’ hand. Slowly, she moved her weapon off target. Once it was pointed at the ground, Martinez sheathed the knife, but kept her hand close to the hilt.
“That flight suit looks brand new,” Anna said. “You really Air Force?”
Martinez nodded.
“You?”
“Army,” Anna said. “What are you doing here? Why were you trying to sneak up on us?”
Titus climbed to his feet, grunting as his old knees complained.
“Ain’t sneakin’, missy,” he growled. “Called bein’ cautious, if’n you didn’t know.”
“Whatever,” Anna said dismissively. “Why are you here? What do you want?”
Martinez and Titus traded a quick look. He shrugged, letting her know it was her call if she wanted to talk to this woman.
“We were north of here and picked up an AM radio broadcast,” Martinez said. “Tracked the signal to here, so we came to see who was alive. We weren’t sure you weren’t the enemy, so we decided to put down and walk the last few miles. Just in case.”
Anna’s eyes narrowed into a frown.
“How many of you are there?”
Martinez didn’t miss the slight movement of the rifle. It was only an inch, but the muzzle moved in her direction. Titus picked up on the immediate tension as the two women stared at each other.
“Just us, missy. Ain’t no more. They’s all dead.”
“So… what? You’re looking for a new home?” Anna asked suspiciously.
“Looking for the people I was with,” Martinez said, not breaking eye contact.
“Well, they’re not here.”
No one spoke for several very long seconds. Titus looked back and forth between the women, then cleared his throat.
“Well, maybe it’s best we just be on our way, missy.”
He was speaking to Martinez, but his attention was on Anna.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “Can’t have you going and coming back with a small army.”
The rifle twitched again and Martinez moved her hand onto the hilt of her knife, her entire body coiled and ready to fight.
“Not your decision, la perra,” Martinez said, calling Anna a bitch. “And I can put this blade in your throat before you raise that weapon. Now, I agree with my friend. We’re leaving!”
“That’s not going to happen,” Anna said, a small smile on her face.
There was a soft whistle from Martinez’ left. After a beat, she glanced in that direction, seeing the girl with her rifle aimed steady. It was pointed directly at her head.
“Now, take your hand off the knife before something really bad happens,” Anna said. “If you’re telling the truth, I don’t want to hurt you. But if you’re lying to me…”
“Puta,” Martinez mumbled after another long look at the rifle aimed at her head. But she moved her hand.
“Anna!”
Everyone looked around when an even younger girl, also armed with a rifle, hurried up. She carried what looked like a radio in her hand, extended toward the older woman. Anna took it and listened for half a minute, her eyes swiveling to lock onto Martinez.
“Watch them,” she said to the two girls.
The new arrival, the one Anna had referred to as Bethany, snapped her rifle up and aimed it at Titus’s heart. Martinez glanced between the girls, noting they were rock steady and apparently well trained and determined. She caught Titus’s eye and shook her head to tell him not to try anything that would get them both killed.
“Who else is with you?” Anna asked angrily.
She stepped forward, but made sure she remained well clear of the girls’ firing lanes.
“What?” Martinez blurted in surprise. “No one! It’s just us!”
“You show up in a Black Hawk and start sneaking around, and now there just so happens to be two more helicopters to the south?”
“I don’t know anything about them!” Martinez protested.
“I don’t believe you,” Anna said firmly. “Now, very carefully take your weapons off and put them on the ground. You don’t want to test these young ladies’ reflexes.”
Martinez hesitated, trying to figure a way out of their situation. After nothing but bad ideas, she looked at Titus and nodded for him to cooperate as she carefully unslung her rifle.
“Fuck that, missy,” he spat, anger clear on his face. “Didn’t wanna come on this goddamn trip anyways. Sure as hell ain’t gonna be locked up by no little girls. I’m leavin’!”
Without another word, he started walking, heading to the north where they’d left the Black Hawk.
“Stop!” Anna cried.
“Titus, stop!” Martinez shouted.
She began to take a step forward when Anna drew her pistol, but the girl to her left moved to block her, the muzzle now aimed at her face. Bethany was still tracking Titus as Anna aimed in his direction and fired a round into the ground near his feet.
“That’s your only warning, old man,” she barked.
“Faced scarier ‘an you, missy,” he said without slowing or looking back.
“Pull that trigger and you’re dead,” Martinez hissed. “Maybe it won’t be me, but there’s a man I know who won’t rest until you pay for hurting Titus.”
The two girls held their rifles steady, but both shot a questioning glance at Anna. Martinez checked the girl guarding her. Anna and the other one were focused on Titus, but the rifle aimed at her face wasn’t wavering. Still, she was waiting for an opening. A moment’s distraction that would provide her with an opportunity to draw a knife and attack. She didn’t want to harm the girl, but the older woman wasn’t giving her a choice.
“STOP!” Anna shouted, walking a few steps in Titus’s tracks.
Martinez breathed a sigh of relief when he did. He turned slowly, looking Anna up and down.
“Go ‘head and pull that trigger, missy. My family’s gone. Was gonna do the job myself few months back. Do me a goddamn favor!”
He stood glaring at Anna. Daring her to shoot.
“Why didn’t you?” Anna asked, surprising everyone.
Titus stared at her a beat before looking away and shaking his head.
“Was damn close. Then this crazy sum bitch Major shows up runnin’ from the Russians. Tryin’ ta get his wife back. And that gal, too,” he said, gesturing at Martinez. “Kinda gave me a reason to hang on a bit longer.”
Anna glanced over her shoulder at Martinez.
“An Army Major? John Chase?”
>
“You know him?” Martinez asked in surprise.
“Who is he to you?”
Martinez held her eyes and a smile slowly spread across her face.
“We’ve been together since shortly after the attacks. It’s a very long story.”
Anna watched her a moment before turning back to Titus. After several seconds of silence, she holstered her pistol and told the two girls to stand down. They lowered their rifles immediately.
“We’d better have a chat,” she said. “If those helos to the south aren’t with you, we may have a big problem.
49
Admiral Packard’s eyes flew wide when the knife pierced his chest. He started to fall away from his attacker, but the man had an iron grip on his hand and held him close as he withdrew the blade in preparation for another blow. His arm was already in motion when a single shot rang out, the bullet punching through his skull.
Captain Black had paced the Admiral, moving down the side of the auditorium. He’d just made a high difficulty shot from more than forty yards to take out the assassin before he could stab Packard a second time. He was dashing forward, four Marines at his back, before the body had toppled to the floor.
There was the briefest moment of complete silence, then the room erupted in screams of terror as people began scrambling over each other for the exits. In an instant, there was complete bedlam, but it didn’t slow the squad of Marines. Working together, they forced their way, none too gently, through the panicked crowd to reach the Admiral.
Two of them moved immediately to the man Black had shot, one checking for a pulse while the other kept a weapon pointed at him. The Captain dropped to his knees beside the Admiral, both hands pressing on the frighteningly large blood stain on the front of his uniform. The other two Marines took up position on either side, facing out with weapons up in case there was another attacker in the crowd.
But there was no way they would have been able to single out any threat until it was overt. Pandemonium reigned amongst the civilians who were trampling each other in their effort to reach an exit.