Caldera 10: Brave New World

by Stallcup, Heath

  His smile widened. “It was purely medicinal.” He reached over and touched the tip of her nose. “Doc gave it to me.”

  She raised a brow at him. “Thanks for sharing, dickhead.”

  He pulled her closer and she lay in the crook of his arm. “I bet I can get ya some.”

  “You seemed awfully chummy with Vee last night.”

  Simon chuckled lightly. “And you seemed awfully chummy with those ladies.”

  “They started out being all friendly. Before I knew it, they were grilling me on what it was like.”

  “Huh?”

  “Being infected.” Her voice was low and sad.

  “What did you tell them?”

  She shrugged. “The truth.” She sighed and adjusted her head on his shoulder. “The headaches, the anger…the confusion.”

  Simon nodded knowingly. “Then the absolute clarity.”

  She closed her eyes. “I didn’t tell them everything.”

  “Of course not.” He patted her shoulder. “And you were right not to. They couldn’t understand.”

  “They seemed shocked that you were infected too.” She glanced up at him then continued, “I didn’t mention that you were the alpha, though.”

  “Doc laughed when I told her,” he stated softly. “I don’t think she believes me.”

  “That you were the alpha?”

  “No.” He swallowed hard. “I told her about how I used to be, and how the whole thing changed me. I don’t think she believed any of it.”

  “You both were pretty stoned.”

  He chuckled again and nodded. “It’s been a while. I think my tolerance is a bit low.”

  She rolled off of him and sat up. “I did find out a few things though.”

  “Like what?”

  She sat up straight and crossed her legs, Indian style. “There’s not a real leader here. Everybody sort of does their own thing, but they look out for each other.”

  “What about that big hairy guy?”

  “Trent?” She shrugged. “The ladies seem to like him. Did you notice the redhead with the bob haircut? I think she’s sweet on him.”

  Simon shook his head. “The only woman I noticed was you.”

  She felt her cheeks flush and she fought back the smile that formed. “Seriously…I talked all night with them and they kind of filled me in.”

  “Gossip,” Simon laughed.

  Lana shrugged. “I prefer to call it intel.” She raised a brow at him. “So, like I was saying…that Trent guy…he’s the closest thing they have to a leader.”

  “Really?” Simon stuffed the pillow up under his head so that he sat more upright. “Go on.”

  “He’s not really a leader, exactly, but almost all of the suggestions he makes, they go along with. It was his idea to put up the roadblock and the signs.”

  “Ya don’t say?”

  She nodded. “And when stuff breaks, he’s sort of the go-to guy. They say he’s quite handy.”

  “Anybody else got pull around here?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Seems like they all sort of look to him. When there’s a problem, he’s there with an answer.”

  “That could be useful to know.”

  She leaned forward and smiled at him. “A pack without an alpha….”

  Simon stared at her for a moment then slowly shook his head. “That’s not me anymore.”

  She gave him that look. “Once a leader, always a leader.” She dragged her fingernail across his chest, stopping just above his navel. “No flock should go untended.”

  Simon stared at her, doing his best to read her unspoken intentions. Again, he slowly shook his head. “They’ve done just fine on their own.”

  “People may not realize it, but humans have a need for leadership.” She raised a brow at him. “Natural born leaders can’t deny who they are.”

  Simon sighed and closed his eyes. “Why?”

  “Why, what?”

  He opened his eyes and stared at her. “Why do you want this so much?”

  She stared back, unblinking. “I’m not an alpha.” She reached down and gripped the bottom of her tank top, peeling it off and tossing it aside. “But I damned sure am an alpha’s woman.” She bent over him and kissed him, slowly lowering herself onto him.

  Simon reached down with his good arm and tugged at her panties. “Since you can’t be king, you want to be queen?”

  She pulled back and stared into his eyes. “I’m thinking more like ‘Empress,’ but I’ll run with whatever title comes with the crown.”

  Simon smiled at her as she tugged the panties the rest of the way off. “I think ‘Siren’ might be more fitting.”

  11

  Hatcher groaned as he climbed down the ladder. He stretched his lower back and stared up at the tile roof, now covered in solar panels. “Will that be enough?”

  Will huffed as he walked by, reaching for the bundle of cables. “Hardly.” He hefted the cabling and tossed it alongside the house. “You won’t be running your electric dryer anytime soon.” He looked up at the roof and cocked his head. “With enough batteries, you might be able to run air conditioning for short periods.”

  “What about a swamp cooler?”

  Will nodded. “That should be fine. But even in this climate you’ll want to be careful of mold and mildew buildup. You might want to consider finding a dehumidifier, if you go that route.”

  Hatcher shrugged. “I grew up here. I think I’m used to the weather extremes.”

  “Your choice.” Will turned and entered the garage. “I’ll have the battery bank dropped off tomorrow then we’ll work on getting your converter installed.”

  Hatcher scratched at his chin as he watched Will stack the equipment near the rear door. “Will all of the houses have to have their own stuff?”

  “Of course.” Will wiped at his brow and gave Hatcher an exasperated look. “I told you it was doable—I didn’t say it would be easy.”

  Hatcher winced as he looked at the boxes stacked near the rear door. “All of that is just for here?”

  “No, of course not. But it was easier to offload it in one central location.” He pushed his glasses up onto his nose as he spoke. “We’ll be in and out of your place for the next week or so.”

  Hatcher nodded. “At least I’ll get to see you.”

  Will raised a brow at him. “I’ll be seeing you daily. We have dozens of homes to convert, and I expect to see you with a wrench in your hand, assisting.”

  Hatcher opened his mouth to argue then paused. “If you say so.”

  “Oh!” Will turned slowly, his finger pointing. “The cameras.”

  “What cameras?”

  “Security, of course.” Will sighed again then wiped his brow with a soaked bandana. “Abbot and Costello found a supply house during one of their forays into the city.”

  “Abbot and…”

  “Hank and Wally,” Will replied blandly. “The would-be comedy team that cannot take any task seriously.” He planted his hands on his hips. “Regardless, they found a security place, and within said establishment there lay a bountiful supply of outdoor cameras.”

  “Oh, great.”

  “What makes them especially nice is that they are wireless and work off of radio signal.” He pushed his glasses up again. “Therefore, I need you to choose a location in your new abode where I can set up a server system and the monitors.”

  “My house?”

  “You are the chief of security, are you not?” Will gave him another bland stare. “You have the very same setup inside your office at the retirement home, so I assumed you’d want it here.”

  Hatcher opened his mouth to argue then slowly closed it. “Let me get back to you on that.”

  Will shook his head. “We placed two extra panels on your roof just to handle the servers and the monitors, not to mention the radio receivers.” Will gave him a hard stare. “The system will be going in this structure. Whether or not you choose to be here to monitor them is entirely up
to you.”

  Hatcher gave him a confused look then slowly nodded. “Okay, yeah.”

  Will shot him a cheesy grin. “I suppose you could find another house and allow Costello to stay here.” He rubbed at his chin. “Or even Abbott.”

  Hatcher narrowed his gaze at the man. “I’ll see you in the morning, doc.” He grabbed the socket and spun the ratchet around his hand. “Bright and early.”

  Will gave him a mock salute. “Let’s try to wake up before noon, shall we?”

  Hatcher watched him walk off and muttered, “Smart ass early bird.”

  “And you’re certain that this was a scratch?” Carol asked as she examined one of the soldiers.

  “Yes, ma’am.” The man nodded slightly as she continued to check his neck. “It was one of the females. Dug her claws in good, too.”

  “Do you know which one?” she asked absently.

  The soldier gave her an embarrassed look before shaking his head. “I’m sorry ma’am. I don’t pay much attention to politics. And we were wrasslin’ with a dozen or so people to get them under control.”

  Carol leaned back and gave Broussard a slight nod. “It’s definitely from a human.”

  Broussard chewed at his inner cheek as he considered the possibilities. “Okay, so if she was newly turned, perhaps the infection had yet to manifest itself outside of her body?”

  Carol shook her head. “If the infection was rampant enough to tip her to feral, I’m almost certain it would be on her hands.” She crossed her arms and gave him an expectant look. “Maybe we just got lucky; maybe it’s not transferrable.”

  “I’m not ready to make that conclusion.” He turned and stared at the acrylic cells. “We need an oral culture.”

  “A what?” the soldier asked, almost positive he knew what the doc was about to ask.

  “We need to swab one of their mouths.” Broussard continued to stare at the rabid humans. “The larger the sample, the better.”

  “Oh, hell no.” The soldier came to his feet and shook his head as he backed away. “One of them actually ATE my buddy.”

  “We’re not asking you to try to obtain one,” Carol added quickly.

  “Good.” The soldier seemed to grow taller as he squared his shoulders. “The only way I’d even attempt that is to shoot first, swab later.”

  Broussard shook his head as he slowly came to his feet. “That wouldn’t be prudent,” he stated absently. “After all, we are trying to save their lives.” He turned and gave Carol a wry smile. “Feel like going fishing?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “We dangle a piece of raw meat into the chamber with them. Once they sink their teeth into it, we reel it back and examine it.”

  The soldier slowly shook his head. “I don’t think they’d go for that, doc.” He swallowed hard. “I’ve heard rumors.”

  “Of?” Carol asked.

  “They like their food to scream when they eat it.”

  Broussard stiffened. “We won’t be feeding them anything alive, I assure you.” He turned and eyed the soldier carefully. “Are you sure it’s the scream? Or perhaps that the meal is warm and bloody?”

  “I heard it was the screams.” He looked away sheepishly. “But rumors are pretty bad down here. You hear all sorts of things.”

  “Like what?” Carol asked, doing her own fishing.

  The soldier shrugged. “Just stuff.” He reached for his weapon and shouldered it. “You know. Scary stories to keep people in line. That kind of thing.”

  “I don’t suppose any of the soldiers were bitten during the scuffle?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Not on the skin.” He tapped the plastic guards strapped to his arms. “We had a few try to chew through the armor, though.”

  Broussard gave Carol a knowing look. “Where can I get some of that armor?”

  Simon winced as Vee changed his dressings. “This is looking really good.” She laid the pad aside and brushed an iodine solution across the stitches. “You’re healing fast. Before you know it you’ll be ready for physical therapy.”

  “If you say so, Doc.” Simon looked away as she wrapped a fresh dressing over the wound. “Still hurts like you were digging inside.”

  “And it will continue to hurt for a while.” She gave him an understanding look. “I’m sure your fingers probably feel numb, yeah?”

  He nodded. “Most of the time. The rest of the time they burn.”

  She patted his hand. “It will be like that for a while. That’s the nerves trying to heal after all the swelling.” She pulled a piece of tape and bit it free before laying it across the bottom of the dressing. “It’s the inflammation that is aggravating them. Once it lessens, you’ll start getting the feeling back.”

  “Will I be able to play the piano?” he asked hopefully.

  “Sure! Provided you knew how to play it before the gunshot.” She smiled at him knowingly. “That’s an old joke, Simon.”

  He shrugged slightly, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin. “I had to give it a shot.”

  She taped the top of the dressing then leaned back. “There ya go. You should be good for another day or two.” She patted his leg as she stood. “I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

  “Thanks, Doc,” Simon muttered as he sat back in the chair. “I always enjoy our little chats.”

  Vee smiled down at him. “No you don’t.” She fished in her shirt pocket and handed him a joint. “To help with the pain. We don’t want you to become dependent on those opioids.”

  Simon accepted the prescription with gusto. “Thanks again, Doc.”

  “Yeah, now you’re happy to see me.” She chuckled to herself as she reached for the door. “Don’t let him play any contact sports for a while. No football or baseball for at least a week.”

  Simon chuckled, but Lana looked alarmed. “What?”

  “Relax, sweetie. I was joking.” She opened the door and startled when she found Trent standing outside, his hand raised to knock. “I was just leaving.”

  Trent gave her a broad smile. “And I was just coming.” He stepped aside and let her pass. “See you tonight?”

  “You still cooking?” she asked, a vaguely seductive tone to her voice.

  “You know it.” He gave her a wink as she stepped away.

  “Then I’ll see you tonight.”

  Trent watched her walk away and grunted at the sway of her hips.

  “Can I help you?” Lana asked, breaking the spell cast by the good doctor’s derrière. Trent’s head snapped around and he gave her a sheepish grin.

  “I was just stopping by to see how y’all were doing.” He looked at her expectantly. “Can I come in?”

  “Might as well.” She held the door while he stepped into the RV. “It’s been grand central all day.”

  Trent side stepped and found a chair. As he lowered himself into it he gave Simon a nod. “Sorry to just drop by.”

  “I assume you have a reason.”

  Trent nodded embarrassingly. “I, uh…”

  “Just spit it out,” Simon said as he slipped the joint into his vest pocket.

  “Well, uh…after the get together, people were talking and…”

  “And you want us to leave,” Lana stated flatly.

  Trent’s head popped up and he shook it, his shaggy mane reminding her of a lion. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

  “Spill it, ‘Squatch,” Simon stated as he dropped his feet to the floor, his eyes leveled on the large man.

  Trent met his gaze and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “We were…uh…” He cleared his throat nervously. “We have some guys here who used to be bikers.” He watched Simon for any reaction. “And Vee said you used to ride.”

  Simon nodded. “I did.”

  “Yeah, so…they were wondering what you rode?”

  Simon’s face was unreadable. “Harleys.”

  Trent’s cheeks flushed and he shook his head slightly. “No, they, uh…meant…colors. Did you wear colors?”

  Simon�
�s expression never faltered as he continued to stare at the burly hairball. “None of that matters now, does it? It’s a brave new world out there.”

  Trent nodded in agreement. “Oh, you got that right.” He scooted to the edge of the seat and cupped his hands together. “They were just wondering ‘cuz…” he glanced to Lana then back to Simon, “one of the guys thought he recognized you.”

  Simon’s expression remained deadpan. “And if he did?”

  “Well, he was just wondering if you might want to talk shop sometime.” He gave Simon a slight nod. “That’s all.”

  Simon finally broke eye contact and gave Lana a sideways grin. “Here’s the thing, ‘Squatch.” He sat forward and gave the man a hard stare. “I’m not that guy anymore. If they have an axe to grind, tell them to bring it over here and we can settle it straight away.” He lifted his wounded arm slightly. “With my busted wing, it might actually be a fair fight for them.”

  Trent shook his head adamantly. “Oh, no. No, man, that’s not what…” He looked to Lana and noted her hard stare then he turned back to Simon. “That’s not what we…” He stood suddenly and had to duck to clear the AC vent. “I think I blew this. This isn’t what I was trying to do.”

  Simon slid his hand under the pillow on the couch, wrapping his fingers around the pistol grip. “Why don’t you tell me what you came here for then.”

  Trent sighed heavily and lowered his eyes to the carpet. “Okay. We all used to ride.” He shrugged slightly. “We weren’t with any clubs or nothin’. We just enjoyed the wind in our hair.”

  Simon nodded. “And the question about colors?”

  Trent lifted his face and their eyes locked. “They were just curious, that’s all.” He inhaled deeply, hoping he could choose his words wisely. “Hammer used to ride north of here, and he liked to hang out at biker bars. He said that he’d met a lot of guys over the years, but something about you just looked familiar. He thought that if you'd rode under a certain patch, maybe he could put the pieces together and remember where he knew you from.”

  “Why didn’t he come here and ask himself?” Simon asked.

  Trent’s cheeks flushed and he shook his head slightly. “Hammer was in an accident early on in this mess. His left side is nearly paralyzed. He can barely get around with crutches.” He shrugged again. “His old lady helps him in and out of their trailer and…” He sighed and reached for the door. “He just thought maybe he knew you.”