“Not funny.” Andre grumbled as he went back over the results. “I’m afraid I was mistaken earlier.”
Irene leaned in. “How so?”
He looked up at the infected again and sighed. “We do need a test subject.”
The slight snap of a twig in the woods had Simon’s head jerking around, his eyes peering into the deepening gloom. “Come any closer without announcing yourself and I will ventilate you.”
Jake and Tommy stepped out from behind large trees, their hands held up and a broad smile plastered across their faces. “I thought you was asleep.” Tommy drawled.
“I was.” Simon decocked his pistol and tucked it back into his vest.
“Light sleeper,” Jake noted.
“Sometimes you have to be.” Simon sat up in the folding chair and stared at the two men. “Let me guess.”
Tommy smiled again and scooted the cooler closer, sitting on it. “Trent told us what you said.” He picked up a stick and scratched in the dirt with it. “I don’t think you really understand what we were getting at.”
“We need to stick together,” Jake spat out. “Them other folk ain’t like us.”
Tommy shook his head. “They’d have starved if it weren’t for us.” He gave Jake a knowing look. “And I’m sick of them always mooching and begging then looking down their noses at us.”
“Them spics and niggers can—”
“No!” Simon barked. He pushed up from the chair and shook his head at the two men, his hand creeping back for the grip of the pistol. “I won’t tolerate that kind of talk. Not anymore.”
Jake looked to Tommy then both turned to him, shaking their heads. “We don’t mean nothing by it.”
“People are people,” Simon replied softly. “Trust me, if I cut you open and pulled out your organs, nobody could tell me the color of your skin.” His eyes narrowed on the two men and he smirked. “We clear?”
“Yeah.” Jake held his hands up in surrender. “We’re clear.”
Tommy cleared his throat. “Look, all we’re saying is, we’d rather hit the road than stay here and keep feeding these ungrateful…uh…people.”
Simon scoffed as he sat back down. “How long has it been since you boys were out of these woods?”
They looked at each other and shrugged. “Not since people starting eating each other.” Tommy pointed back to the higher camp ground. “Trent’s been out a couple times though.”
“And what did he tell you was out there?”
Both men shook their heads. “He didn’t. He found a tractor trailer with food and stuff headed for the Walmart and—”
“Nothing,” Simon interrupted. “There’s nothing out there.” He stared at each man, letting his words sink in. “You want to take off and pretend you’re an outlaw, right? Well, bad news boys. There’s nothing left…no laws to break. Everything is gone.”
“I don’t follow.” Tommy swallowed hard.
“Empty houses. Abandoned cars. Looted stores.” Simon sat back and sighed. “The few people left out there either suffered through the third layer of hell to stay alive or they were infected and got cured. Either way, they won’t tolerate a handful of rednecks on motorcycles trying to tell them how to live their lives.”
“We just wanted to get away and be free,” Jake replied softly. “I’m sick of everybody looking to us to feed ‘em.”
“So leave,” Simon replied. “You don’t need me to do that.” Lana appeared by his side, a shotgun dangling from her hand. He wrapped his good arm around the inside of her thigh and pulled her closer to him. “We’re just discussing the state of the world, dear. Nothing to fret over.”
She smiled at him, letting the shotgun slide out from behind her leg. “I wasn’t worried.”
Tommy held his hands up, his eyes pleading with her. “We ain’t here to cause no trouble, ma’am.”
Jake hung his head and nodded. “We were just hoping that your mister could lead us off the mountain and back into civilization.”
Simon chuckled. “There is no civilization, boys. Everything you knew is gone.” He sat forward and met their gazes. “No more TV. No more radio. No more beer joints or loose women hanging on your every word.” He sighed as he sat back. “The world as you knew it is no more.”
Tommy looked up and nodded toward the front of the RV. Trent rounded it and paused, his eyes narrowing at the two men. “I told you I talked to him.” His tone was obviously defensive.
“We thought maybe we could talk him into—”
Jake held a hand up, interrupting Tommy. “We came to visit. That’s all. Simon was telling us what it’s like out there.”
“There’s nothing left.” Simon repeated. “If you boys want to rule the world, you might as well start here.” He glanced to Lana then back to Trent. “This is probably the biggest collection of living, breathing people you’ll find.”
“But we don’t want to rule the world,” Tommy replied softly. “We’re just tired of everybody looking to us to provide.”
“Then stop providing,” Simon stated flatly. “They’ll get the message eventually.”
“Or…” Lana began, “you fellas tell them that with the cure, it’s safe for them to leave the campground.” She shrugged. “Who knows, maybe they’ll like the idea of going home rather than staying here.”
Tommy and Jake glanced at each other, then to Trent. “You think they’d leave?”
Trent shrugged. “Even if they didn’t, once we cut them off from the food, they’d have to do something.”
Simon sighed loudly and they all looked to him. “I wouldn’t tell you boys what to do…” he trailed off, letting them anticipate what came next. “But if it were me and I didn’t want to provide for folks, I’d make them pony up.”
“What are you saying? Make ‘em trade for food?” Tommy asked.
Simon shrugged. “Or tax them in some way.” He propped his good arm on the side of the chair. “Nothing says you have to provide for free.”
Trent nodded softly, his mind working. “What do they have that we could use?”
Simon clucked his tongue. “You know, back in my younger days, I found that people are the biggest commodity.” He raised a brow at the men. “If they’ve got nothing else…”
15
Hatcher weaved the little car between road blocks, his nerves still frayed from dealing with Vic. She had pleaded, argued, chastised, brow beat and finally relented, acknowledging that if the situation were reversed, there was nothing she wouldn’t have done.
He had to continually force his body to relax as his shoulders tightened while his mind replayed the interaction. “I’m not a child,” he had argued.
“You’re acting like one!” she countered.
Hatcher’s mind slipped back to the moment she made him second guess his decision. He could still see the look on her face when he replied to her comment. “I’d always known that one day I’d have to go back and look for her. Either to put her out of her misery, bury her remains or to bring her a cure.” Vic’s face fell and she couldn’t think of a legitimate argument. “The people here are taken care of. They have Roger and Candy and you to see to their needs.” He had motioned to the nice houses they were preparing. “They’re already better off than they were before the world ate itself.”
Vicky lowered her eyes and he wasn’t sure if she was going to scream at him or simply hit him. He nearly flinched when she wrapped her arms around his neck and told him to be careful.
He knew that it was just the idea of her little brother running off into the unknown that really scared her. With the cure in the air, the Zulus were no longer a threat. The few that might have avoided it were most likely few and far between.
That’s not to say that there weren’t more people like Simon and his Marauders out there. He couldn’t be certain who the bigger threat might be…the untreated Zulus or the survivors, but he knew that he’d deal with whatever he had to. He had to know Shelly’s fate.
He glanced up th
rough the sunroof and muttered a silent prayer that if she were gone, he could find her remains. Shelly deserved a decent burial, if nothing else.
As he continued to drive up Highway 550, he didn’t even notice the signs announcing the reservation lands. His mind was on Yellowstone and what he might find there.
He had a solid twenty four hours’ worth of driving ahead of him, barring any problems. There were nine hundred miles to cover and he wasn’t naïve enough to think that there wouldn’t be detours and jammed streets between him and the park.
He glanced at the digital readout on the dash claiming that he had three hundred and fifty miles to go before empty. “Let’s hope this thing is true to its word.”
Hatcher pulled the USB drive from his pocket and plugged into the slot on the dash. After switching to Aux, he scrolled through the offerings on the screen and chose Boston. As Don’t Look Back began to play, he cranked the volume to full blast and rolled down his window.
“Now this is a proper road trip.”
Broussard watched intently as the uniformed soldiers slid the collar through the feeding slot and clamped it around the neck of a smaller female. The man nodded to his cohorts and they pushed the control handle, forcing her to the back of the cell.
Two men fought with the crud encrusted mechanism and pulled the door open as two others fought to control the woman snapping, screeching, and grabbing at them. With a stout tug, they pulled her from the filth of the cell as another man gripped her around the middle with a second clamp at the end of a pole.
She tried to spin, slashing and snarling as two uniformed men screwed up their courage and each grabbed a flailing arm.
“She can’t infect you with a scratch!” Carol yelled over the cacophony of screams.
The men wrestled her arms into leather restraints then the six of them dragged her to the exam table. With expert maneuvering and near perfect cooperation, they got her strapped to the table and a ball gag lodged in her mouth. As they tightened the gag, the lead officer glanced to Broussard. “That’s to keep her from biting.” He huffed as he laid the throat clamp aside. “It’s just an added bonus that it muffles her screams.”
“It is appreciated, regardless.” Broussard stepped close to the struggling woman and pulled a pen light, checking her pupil response. “It’s almost like she’s on a bad acid trip.”
Carol’s brows rose. “We could test for foreign substances.”
Andre shook his head. “If her behavior is from something like that, the origination would be organic. She would be producing it.” He rubbed at his neck as his mind raced. “We couldn’t be sure if it wasn’t a certain protein her body created because of the mutated DNA.”
“It’s still worth a shot. If we got lucky and could isolate it, perhaps we could find something to counter it?” She shrugged. “It wouldn’t be a cure, per se, but it would help us to keep them docile while we worked.”
Broussard sighed. “I fear it would be a fool’s errand, but at this point, we really have little else to go on.” He turned and nodded to Carol and Tammy. “Run whatever tests you feel are necessary, but keep in mind that something in their system will fight your reagents. Unless we can find a way to block those B and T cells, we may be fighting an uphill battle the entire time.”
As the soldiers filed out of the lab, the lead man stepped closer to Broussard. “Let me see if I got this straight.” He stared at the tiny woman that had fought like a heavyweight boxer. “Something inside her is causing her to act out like she’s on drugs, but there’s something else in her body that fights back when you try to test for stuff?”
“In layman’s terms, yes.” Broussard was ready to dismiss the man.
The guard shook his head. “What if we could pump the crap out of her system,” he shrugged, “like a transfusion.”
“If her body is creating it, a transfusion would do little good,” he replied, his mind trying to read the woman’s behavior.
“Too bad there isn’t a drug you could give her to lessen the effects.” He picked up the pole with the throat collar. “I guess you get to experiment with all kinds of doggy downers to calm her ass down.”
“Yes, yes,” Broussard replied, not paying attention.
The soldier stepped to the door and paused. “I wonder what she’d do if you slipped her a magic mushroom?” He chuckled to himself as he pulled the door shut. “Maybe she’d mellow out for ya.”
Broussard’s head popped up and he stared blankly at the far wall. Carol noticed his expression. “What are you thinking?”
“That he might not be far off.” He stood upright and cocked his head to the side. “For patients with attention deficit and hyper activity, they give a central nervous system stimulant.”
“Because it has the opposite effect,” Carol replied slowly. “You’re not seriously thinking of giving this poor woman a psychedelic?”
He turned and shrugged. “What if it works?”
“What if it doesn’t?” She glared at him. “They’re still people. They’re sick, but they’re people.”
“Your point?” he asked.
She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Experimenting on them sounds more like Higgins than you.”
He stepped back and gave her a stoic look. “I’m not talking about cruel or unusual tactics here; at some point we will have to begin drug testing.” He nodded to the woman still snarling at the researchers. “I am simply curious if it would work.”
“Before we start pumping these people full of whatever we can think of, let’s see if we can isolate the blood chemistry, shall we?” She sighed and turned away. “Then we can determine how best to treat them.”
He continued to watch the woman struggle against the restraints. “Hmm. IF they can be treated.”
“You’re starting to sound like the Alpha I know and love,” Lana purred.
Simon tried not to react to the ‘L’ word. “Is that really what you want of me?” He looked at her expectantly. “You want me to be like I used to be?”
She growled low in her throat as she pushed him back on the small couch. She stared into his eyes as she straddled him. “I want you to be the man you’re meant to be.”
Simon watched as she tugged her tank top off and for the first time, he wasn’t in the mood. He watched as she wiggled her bottom in his lap playfully. “You want me to—”
She pressed a finger to his lips and giggled. “I want you.” She bent low and kissed him. “Nothing more, nothing less.” He tried to sit up and she pulled the pillow from behind him, tossing it haphazardly to the floor. “Nope. I want you on your back.”
Simon sighed and slithered down further, allowing her to play out her game. “You want me cutthroat,” he stated flatly.
“I want you to be you at your best.” She nipped at his lower lip and tugged at his belt. “You were born to lead, darling. You know this as well as I do.”
He ignored the slap of the leather as she tugged it through the loops of his jeans. She fought with his zipper clumsily and laughed when she got his pants loose. “It makes me hot when you show your true potential.”
He watched her wriggle out of her jean shorts and instead of staring at her lustfully, his mind was on who he used to be. He didn’t want to be that person any more. He looked up at her and saw the feral look of lust in her eyes as she kissed down his chest.
Simon closed his eyes as she did her best to get him to rise to the occasion. He fought the urge to moan as she caressed him and he gripped the back of her head with his good hand.
She didn’t argue.
He tightened his grip and pushed her harder, his eyes locked on the stubbles of hair sprouting on her scalp. He felt his face harden as he took out his frustration on her, but rather than protest, the action seemed to increase her passion.
Simon relaxed his grip and simply watched as she serviced him. Although his body reacted, his mind was elsewhere.
Could he become what she wanted? Could he go against his newfound n
ature and be that person again? He felt he had made such progress, breaking away from the cruel narcissist he used to be.
He stared at her again and flashes of the violence he had committed in the past flashed through his mind. He saw the multitude of faces of those he’d crushed, destroyed…used. Faces that he didn’t recognize or even remember, but his subconscious knew them. The lizard part of his brain reveled in the power he exuded over others.
Simon felt his body react to her ministrations and he let himself go. He heard her groan with satisfaction and her head slowed its rhythmic bobbing. She released him with an audible pop and smiled at him, wiping at her chin with her little finger. “Oops. Almost spilled some.”
Simon gave her his best evil grin. “You ready for round two?” He asked as he grabbed her breast and pulled her towards him.
She actually giggled as she straddled him, aligning herself. “I’m always ready,’ she purred.
Simon watched her eyes slowly close and she threw her head back on her shoulders as she rose and fell. He fought the animal part of his brain screaming to be let loose again.
As much as he wanted to please Lana, he didn’t want to become the monster he once was.
He closed his eyes, doing his best to imagine only her…but faces of his victims continued to haunt him.
16
Buck’s head turned on a swivel as a stumbling man entered the neighborhood. He reached out and slapped Roger absently. “We got company.”
Roger looked at the pale, bald man as he gawked at the people roaming his neighborhood. He slowed and squinted in the bright sunlight. “Evelyn?” His voice sounded hoarse and dry.
Roger gripped the ladder and quickly climbed down. He snatched a bottle of water from the cooler and slowly approached the old man. “Sir?” He held the water out to him. “Are you okay?”
Caldera 10: Brave New World Page 11