Pandemic: Quietus: A Post-Apocalyptic Dystopian Fiction Series (The Pandemic Series Book 4)

by Bobby Akart

  Barb clinked glasses with her husband and beamed with happiness. The group had agreed to dispense with the medical talk, as they’d already decided upon a rehabilitation program for Tommy as well as medical monitoring of his condition. The rest of the evening was intended to talk about how fortunate they were and to look toward the future.

  For an hour during dinner and drinks, they forgot about the apocalypse that had descended upon the world. While Tommy was feeling good, they tried to keep the conversation lighthearted until discussion of the elephant in the room came up at Tommy’s request.

  Tommy reached for his daughter, summoning Mac to join his side. She set down her wine and sat on the leather roll-top arm of his chair. She gently rubbed his shoulder.

  “Dear, we have to make a decision about what happens next,” Tommy began with a serious tone. “What you’ve accomplished is right on par with the discoveries of vaccines for polio and smallpox, if not greater. The world is becoming extinct from the plague and you’ve discovered a cure. We have to tell someone.”

  Mac looked to Hunter. This had been a nightly topic between the two of them before they went to bed. Her mother had been staying with her dad at the quarantine house and hadn’t really been a part of the debate. Hunter took the lead in the conversation.

  “Mac and I have discussed this several times since your recovery. I’m trying to wrap my head around the logistics of this. It is fortuitous that the center of our government is basically down the road from us at Cheyenne Mountain. I know very little about the complex. Barb, have you ever been there?”

  “No, I haven’t, but I do know from conversations with those who have that you won’t get anywhere near the entrance on a good day, much less under these circumstances. You’re going to have to approach someone on the outside with sufficient clearance to help you. Perhaps you could start at Peterson Air Force Base.”

  “It’s all we’ve got,” said Hunter.

  Mac gave her opinion somewhat sarcastically. “Okay, we’ll just stroll up to the gate and say hey, I’m Mac and I’ve got the cure for the plague. Would you mind letting us in?”

  “It’s gonna be a challenge, dear,” admonished her mother. “We have to get this information to the government.”

  “What if they won’t listen to me, Mom? They probably think I’m a crackpot. Heck, they may have a shoot-to-kill order on me, or something.” Mac was standing defiantly next to the fireplace with her arms crossed. Hunter knew where she was coming from because they’d gone down this road before.

  Hunter approached her and took her by the hand to lead her back to the sofa. She drank some wine and allowed him to speak.

  “Yes, there are several challenges in addition to the contact issue. First, we need to get there alive. We will face trouble on the road. There will be checkpoints like the one we established. There could be gangs like the Vagos, who are encamped just down the road from us.”

  “Exactly,” Mac chimed in. “How can I take Hunter away from here with a threat like that less than two miles down the road? Something could happen to us out there, but it’s also possible that you guys could be threatened while we’re gone. We would’ve saved Daddy’s life and left you guys unprotected trying to save a bunch of strangers.” Mac began to cry now and Hunter comforted her.

  “There are too many unknowns,” added Janie. “We don’t know where to go and who to see. I think we can protect the house with Doc and Derek’s help, but then we’d have to disclose why Mac and Hunter are leaving for the city. That can create additional problems when the sheriff and Doc insist upon stockpiling the cure for the plague for the people in town before Mac leaves.”

  “Janie’s right, I don’t have enough compound to protect everyone,” said Mac, wiping away her tears. “This needs to get into a laboratory and it needs to be refined. I’ve got the formula in my journal, but I only have enough of the actual vaccine to save one person, maybe two.”

  Tommy raised his hand, as a way of asking everyone to be quiet. “All of you swore an allegiance or an oath to protect Americans and also humanity. I know there are risks and I don’t want harm to come to either one of you, but there comes a time when we all have to step up and make sacrifices. Hunter, I’ve asked you this before. Can you protect my daughter?”

  “Yes, sir, with my life if necessary.”

  “Mac, can you be as convincing as you were the day in Washington when you stared down that camera and told the world the truth?”

  “Yes, Daddy, of course.”

  “Then you both have to try. Our safety is not a concern. We’ll be fine. You have the ability to save millions of lives, Mac. There should be no question about what has to be done.”

  PART TWO

  WEEK THIRTEEN

  Chapter 19

  Day Eighty-Five

  Quandary Peak

  Hunter and Mac were at a crossroads. The group consensus was clear—the vancomycin compound created by Mac could save humanity. But everyone respected Mac and Hunter’s decision on how to move forward. It was their lives at risk as they ventured outside the relative safety of Quandary Peak, all things considered.

  Most often, when someone speaks of being at a crossroads in their life, they mention two paths—right and wrong. Mac and Hunter were venturing out into the unknown. Their crossroads would involve choices resulting in life and death, their own. In a post-apocalyptic world, a simple mistake or miscalculation could get you killed.

  The trip from Quandary Peak to Colorado Springs was a hundred miles, give or take. The first half involved winding their way through the ridges and mountain peaks until they reached the small town of Hartsel. From there, it was a straight, flat divided highway into Colorado Springs, where the real fun would begin, as Hunter explained while they reviewed their route on a map they’d purchased at Walmart weeks before.

  Mac exchanged tearful good-byes with her parents and Janie. Barb provided Hunter a strong, lengthy hug, never saying a word. When they broke their embrace, her eyes locked with his, telling him everything that was in her mind. He nodded and gave her a reassuring smile.

  I know, Barb. I love your daughter and promise to bring her home safely.

  As Mac entered the Defender, Tommy waved to Hunter for a few final words. Hunter joined him at the top step of the front porch and sat down next to him. Tommy’s voice was still a little weak, so Hunter leaned in to listen.

  “Son,” he started, calling Hunter the endearing term for the first time, “I know that calculated risks are part of what you do. Risks are a lot different from being crazy. Just because you two come up with a plan that’s so completely crazy it might work just because it’s completely crazy is, frankly, completely crazy. Am I making sense?”

  Hunter started laughing and put his arm around the older man’s shoulders. “Tommy, have you been in the mighty morphine again? You’ve gotta trust my judgment, okay?”

  Tommy nodded as a tear found its way out of the corner of his eye. “I know I made this big rah-rah speech last night at dinner, but I’m gonna be selfish here. All I care about is my daughter’s and your safety. The world has turned their backs on Barb and Mac before. This is their last chance to accept my family’s help. All I’m saying is don’t do anything crazy.”

  Hunter lowered his head for a moment and thought. After a moment, he decided to tell Tommy something he’d intended for another time, but felt a father deserved to hear now.

  “Sir, I love Mac more than life. I will never place her in danger and I promise to bring her back just as you see her now.” Mac was sitting in the front seat of the truck, having a final laugh and conversation with Janie and Barb. The sun was shining through the sunroof, illuminating her blond hair. To Tommy and Hunter, she looked angelic.

  “Tommy, I will bring her home safely, but in return I hope you’ll give me your blessing and approval to marry your daughter as soon as I can convince her to say yes.”

  Tommy began to laugh. “Now I know you’re crazy. As beautiful, smart, and succes
sful as she is, I never thought Mac would marry. She’s like Barb, married to a microscope and those dang germs. Let me tell you something, I’d love to have you as a son and Barb would as well. If you can convince the half-tamed bronco to marry you, then you’d have both of our unequivocal approvals.”

  “It’s a deal,” said Hunter, extending his fist to bump with Tommy’s. “My final word to you is this, Tommy. I hate the prospect of leaving you guys behind. Do not let your guard down. I believe there’s something bad, evil running around these mountains. They killed right down the road and set fire to the ridges near town. Promise me you’ll stay frosty, okay?”

  “You bet,” replied Tommy. “You guys save the world and I’ll protect the fort. Go!” Tommy shooed Hunter off the porch and he trotted over to the truck. He gave a final good-bye before he and Mac headed out.

  Hunter made a quick stop to roll some of the cut tree logs to fortify their blockade of the upper half of Blue Lakes Road. It would be a second deterrent to anyone approaching the house by car, in addition to the checkpoint down the street.

  At the checkpoint, they explained to Derek’s men that they needed to see the mayor of Fairplay about his missing daughters. The men didn’t question Hunter and dutifully moved the cars out of the way, allowing them to pass.

  As they left Quandary Peak full of anticipation and fear of the unknown, the greatest emotion of them all, they discussed what was reasonable to expect when they arrived in Colorado Springs. Mac was hopeful that the large military presence around Cheyenne Mountain and at Peterson Air Force Base would have resulted in order being restored.

  Hunter hoped for the same. His concern was not so much the city and surrounding suburbs. The map revealed several potentially perilous locations along the way that could impede their progress.

  He maneuvered the Defender through the twists and turns of Route 9 as they dropped in elevation in their descent into the valley. They passed the neighborhood sign for Timber Ridge and Hunter eased around a blind curve until he jammed on the brakes, throwing Mac forward in her seat.

  “What?” she asked, looking frantically around the truck.

  “Look, down there,” said Hunter, pointing to several burly men sitting on their motorcycles blocking the road about a hundred yards in front of him. “It appears the Vagos have set up their own roadblock.”

  “What do we do?” asked Mac.

  Hunter studied the situation further. He calmly turned around and reached into the backseat, where he retrieved his AR-10.

  “Mac, after I leave, get in the driver’s seat and be ready. If this goes bad, turn around and go home. If it goes well, then follow my signal.”

  “Are you gonna shoot your way through?” she asked.

  “That will be their choice,” Hunter replied as he exited the vehicle and began walking down the incline toward the bikers. Then he muttered to himself, “We’ve been gone all of five minutes and here we go.”

  Chapter 20

  Day Eighty-Five

  Timber Ridge

  Route 9

  Alma, Colorado

  Hunter was almost upon them before the men, smoking cigars and focusing their attention in the opposite direction, heard his voice. The only thing that prevented Hunter from shooting them in the back was the lack of a suppressor and the twelve to fifteen other men a quarter mile away in the front yard of the Timber Ridge clubhouse. Hunter feared they could close the gap before Mac could get the truck down the road to pick him up. It was too great a risk when he had better, quieter options.

  “Good morning, gentlemen,” said Hunter, causing the men to fall over themselves as they turned around. One moved to grab his shotgun leaning against his Harley, but Hunter encouraged him to stop. “Don’t do anything rude like that, my friend. All three of you will be dead before your hand reaches the gun.”

  The men looked toward the other members of the gang for help. They were preoccupied as well. The bikers were digging through clothes and storage boxes in the front yard of the building like a gang of shoppers at a rummage sale on a Saturday morning.

  The men began to raise their arms. “Nope, don’t do that either,” said Hunter. “You guys are gonna keep doing what you’re doing, okay? Enjoy your cigar, stay relaxed, and let’s have a little talk. Fair enough?”

  “Yeah, man, whatever,” replied the smallest of the three. He took a deep draw on his cigar and blew smoke in Hunter’s direction. Hunter smiled at the man, mentally thanking him for revealing his attitude and identifying himself as the first to die in the event of trouble.

  “Good,” said Hunter. “This is very simple. We need to pass without trouble from you or your buddies down there. Don’t you agree that sounds easy?”

  The men didn’t speak and Hunter continued to study their movements, but especially their eyes. The eyes, as they say, were windows into the soul. Hunter was familiar with the thousand-yard stare when a person seemed to be looking through you rather than at you. An adversary who was considering his options to attack might be unresponsive to simple questioning, which was why Hunter took the tack that he did.

  The man’s snarky responses initially followed by silence and the targeted stare told Hunter he had a problem. In only a few seconds, Hunter knew the man was in an alternative reality, one which typically ended in a violent encounter because that was what the Vagos Motorcycle Club knew—violence.

  Hunter had no options, but he’d known that when he approached the men from behind. He was perfectly capable of winning a gun battle. He had the high ground on the dozen or so bikers down the street. His weapon and superior weapons skills could take them all out in seconds. But he knew there were more within Timber Ridge.

  They would likely chase them through the winding road into Fairplay. The motorcycles were faster and could outmaneuver the Defender. It was not a good option. Hunter had to calmly diffuse the situation and he would focus on the only one of the three who had spoken.

  “Guys, I don’t want to kill all of you and your buddies down there,” said Hunter, which drew a sarcastic laugh from the men. Hunter patted his automatic weapon and raised it slightly. “But, trust me, that’s what I was trained to do. Let me ask you something. Do any of you want to die today?”

  Two of the bikers stepped backwards slightly. Only the mouthy one stood his ground. He continued to provide Hunter a death stare. He stepped back with his right leg and began to flex his fingers. He gritted his teeth as he spoke.

  “Ain’t nobody dyin’ today but you, boy.”

  Hunter ignored him and decided to pick off the two weaker members of the group. He looked them each in the eye and determined they weren’t interested in a fight. Hunter spoke to them.

  “Boys, I don’t think you share the same attitude as your friend here. I want you to slowly and calmly join your friends down there as they pilfer through those boxes. Don’t raise any alarms or I’ll shoot you in the back. Are we clear?”

  The burliest of the three bikers spoke up and addressed the mouthy one. “Yeah, man. Look, Jaws, let the man be. He don’t want no trouble.”

  Jaws, that’s appropriate, Hunter thought to himself as he continued to focus on the leader who did all the talking.

  “Shut up, Jesse,” said Jaws. “Go on. This is between me and him.”

  The two bikers began walking down the embankment towards the group at the clubhouse. Hunter waved his arm to Mac, instructing her to pull forward. He placed his palm facedown as if he were patting the top of a desk, cautioning her to come in slowly.

  “Good choice,” said Hunter bluntly.

  “Are you military?” asked Jaws.

  “Yeah, Delta,” replied Hunter. He glanced to his right to watch the men descend the slope. They looked back in his direction but were following his instructions. “You?”

  “1st Cavalry Regiment,” he replied.

  “Dragoons?” asked Hunter.

  “Yeah, honorable discharge twelve years ago. Did three tours in the desert,” Jaws said as he pushed up his s
leeve to reveal a tattoo depicting an iron horse. “You ride?”

  “Yeah, I’ve gotta ’90 Fat Boy,” replied Hunter.

  “Classic ride, man. First year they were made.”

  “Yeah, it’s back East,” added Hunter.

  Hunter tilted his head, trying to process why this guy was caught up with a violent bunch of thieves and drug users like the Vagos. A lot of vets came home with nothing waiting. Their girls moved on. Jobs were not available. And the VA turned their backs on soldiers with mental disorders as a result of battle.

  The low rumble of the Defender’s exhaust indicated Mac was getting closer, and within half a minute, she’d be in view of the bikers down the hill. Hunter took a chance and lowered his weapon.

  “Sorry for interrupting you boys. Say, what are you doin’ with these guys?”

  “Survivin’,” replied Jaws. His reply was curt.

  Hunter reached for his left pocket, which caused the man to tense up.

  “No worries, brother,” said Hunter as he pulled out a roll of hundred-dollar bills and handed them to the man. “I just wanna pay the toll. Plus, your friends are gonna need to know why you let us through. You can show them I paid my way and tell them you’ve created a friend who’s tight with the Summit County sheriff.”

  “So?”

  “Better times are ahead, Jaws.” Hunter used the man’s name to gain his favor. “If you fellas are looking for a place to ride out the next phase of this storm, you’re better off on the right side of the law. Right now, scavenging, looting, whatever you wanna call it, is expected to an extent. When this is over, those who kept violence out of the equation will fare better with the sheriff than those who caused harm to others. Make sense?”

  “Yeah.”

  Hunter began to back away as Mac quietly pulled alongside of them. Jaws glanced toward Mac and then his head turned toward the other bikers, who were now walking toward the roadblock. Mac leaned over and opened the passenger door for him. He slowly backed away from the confrontation with his rifle ready if need be.