Extinction Level Event (Book 2): Immune [The Hunted]

by Newman, AJ

  Jon looked at the marina and said, “Should we take the time to search the marina for food and supplies?”

  Cindy said, “No, and we need to get our butts out of here. Look over there.”

  There was a truck heading down the road to the marina at a high rate of speed. Jack yelled, “It’s about a half-mile away! Load up! We need to get airborne now!”

  Cindy had already started the engine while Jon and Jack untied the tethers. Jack climbed behind the controls, and the Beaver’s engine roared to life. They were another half mile away before the men stopped the truck and tried to shoot at the plane. The bullets fell short, and Jon was relieved.

  “Damn it, Dad. Does everyone have to try to kill every stranger?”

  “Son, did you ever read any post-apocalyptic novels?”

  “Yes, several and I get it, but I always thought the authors exaggerated too much. Now, I believe they underplayed the real events. It’s kill or be killed these days.”

  Time passed as Jon sat beside his dad, wondering how their luck could be unfortunate enough to have thugs greet them every time they went anywhere. Jon reached into his pocket and fingered his memory chip but then thought, No one, but Samantha, knows about the memory chip.

  Jack nudged his son and brought him back from his daydreams. “Look ahead to your right. That should be John E. Lewis Airport. We need to check it out sometime during our visit. I’m going down low to take a look.”

  Jack flew the length of the landing strip twice, and they saw several aircraft that appeared to be in good shape. Jon wondered why his dad was interested in an airport when they had a floatplane.

  “Son, there’s the lake. Look for a place with a cabin and a place where we can hide the plane.”

  Lake Tangipahoa, Mississippi – September 2038

  Percy Quin State Park had been deserted for many months when Jack landed the plane that day. It was very peaceful and quiet. There weren’t a lot of boat docks or buildings cluttering up the scenery. Every cottage and home was back in the woods surrounded by trees. Jack made several passes before landing and scared a flock of ducks that were in one of the shallow bays. They also saw several large alligators slip into the water when the plane landed. Jon told Barbara he could get used to the beautiful lake and woods, but the damned mosquitoes and gators had to go.

  They had chosen a cottage located on the northeast end of the lake with a deep cove to hide the plane. There were a couple of small islands, and the trees close to the shore hung over the water. The trees were tall enough to hide the plane from the air. They hid the aircraft under the canopy of leaves and tied it fast to several tree trunks. Jon waded to shore and borrowed a boat to take the ladies and gear to the beach. He helped Barbara into the boat to keep her from reinjuring her leg. He continued unloading the plane while Jack and the others checked out the cottage, which was about one-hundred feet up the shallow hill.

  The cabin turned out to be quite large with modern appliances and a swimming pool in the backyard. There were four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a huge family room, and an eat-in kitchen. The home was hidden in the trees and had a large deck built around several trees. Gina laughed, “Why would you need a swimming pool when you have such a nice dock and a fantastic lake? Not that I’ll be swimming until I get this arm out of my sling.”

  Barbara said, “Gators. The locals hunt them and keep the large ones out of the lake. It’s been four months since anyone gave a care about the dangers posed by the gators. It might be a hundred years before anyone cares again.”

  Jack said, “I’m not swimming in this lake until the gators are gone.”

  Cindy laughed. “Jack, gators won’t bother you.”

  Jack’s face scrunched up. “And I’m not going to find out if that is true.”

  Jon rowed the heavily-laden boat to the dock and motioned for someone to help carry their gear up to the cabin. Barbara limped over and pitched in to help. Jon handed her a couple of light bags. “Take it easy there, young lady. That leg isn’t healed yet. Gina, you take this bag. You can handle it with an injured wing.”

  Gina cursed under her breath. However, she didn’t say anything about Jon taking the bag from his lover and making her carry it even though she was injured herself.

  They took turns scanning the sky but didn’t see anything the rest of the day. Barbara was eager to travel to her parent’s place and started dropping hints. Still, Jon patiently explained they had to find a vehicle and scout the area before leaving Jill and Gina behind to guard the Beaver floatplane.

  Jon said, “Barb, why don’t y’all round up some grub while Dad and I go truck shopping? I’m shopping for a Ford or Jeep truck.”

  Barbara hissed, “Should I be worried that you’re in love with that Samantha more than me?”

  “Are you serious?”

  “No, but a girl could get a bit jealous of the way you talk about her.”

  Jon and his dad walked to the end of the driveway and headed south on Camp Beaver Road. They had seen a dozen large homes from the air, and all had garages. Jack hoped there would be a few vehicles that would meet their needs. They stopped at the first home after watching for any movement. No one was there, so they broke the window to the attached garage and were pleasantly surprised to see a late model Ford Expedition parked next to a mini-van. Jon found the keys in a bench drawer and tried to start the big SUV. A clicking sound greeted him as the starter Bendix attempted to move the gear but didn’t have enough juice to do anything but flutter. The minivan's battery was also dead.

  “The SOB’s battery is dead. I guess we can’t find a battery charger and plug it in overnight.”

  “Nope, but we can move on and find a car that’ll start.”

  The next two homes didn’t have any vehicles, but they found a set of jumper cables. They continued but only found several nice trucks and SUVs that wouldn’t start. Jon opened the door to a three-stall garage and saw a new Cadillac and a VW-powered dune buggy. Jack found the keys and then went to try the Cadillac while Jon tried to start the dune buggy. Neither started, but Jon called out. “Dad, this buggy has a straight shift. Can’t we push start it?”

  “Damn right, we can. I should have thought about that. Check the gas tank while I take the air breather off.”

  “Dad, it’s half full of gas. You push, and I’ll start it.”

  Jack shook his finger at Jon. “Look, young stud. My age gives me seniority, and therefore, you get to push. Here’s the cap to a can of paint. It’s half-full of gas. When I say so, pour about half down the carburetor. Then push me backward, and I’ll have the key on and pop the clutch. It should start.”

  “Pour the gas in.”

  Jon tilted the cap and poured all of the gas in before he could stop. He ran around to the front and pushed the light vehicle out of the garage and onto the driveway. Suddenly the car jerked to a stop, sputtered, and belched black smoke before dying.

  Jack yelled, “You flooded it! Push me up the driveway.”

  The buggy was light, but the hill was long and steep. He was about halfway up when Jack popped the clutch out again. The dune buggy almost started. “Son, now push me down the hill.”

  “Damn, Dad, I’m pooped.”

  “Well, un-poop your sorry ass and shove me down the hill like you mean it.”

  Jon muttered under his breath, “I’ll shove your fat ass into the friggen lake,” and then he heaved forward and pushed as hard as he could, straining his legs as he shoved the buggy forward and down the drive. Jon tripped and fell, skinning his knees and elbows. He looked up, just in time to see the back tires slide burning rubber and the engine come to life. It was running.

  “Come on, son. Barbara can kiss your boo-boos after we get that Expedition started and over to the cabin.”

  “Dad, you can be one sadistic SOB.”

  “Whatever it takes to get the job done. Son, the proverbial shit hit the fan, and we have to man up, protect our families, and get the job done,” replied Jack as he raced up the ro
ad in the dune buggy.

  They stopped outside of the garage containing the Expedition, and Jack helped Jon push it out beside the buggy. Jack attached the jumper cables and asked his son to start the big Ford. The SUV cranked for a few seconds, rolled a small cloud of black smoke from the tailpipe, and came to life.

  “Dad, it’s got two-thirds of a tank full. There’s a garden hose hanging from the wall. I’ll cut a few feet off, and you can siphon some gas from the mini-van.”

  “Son, pucker up and start sucking gas. I’m the father, and you’re still under my direction.”

  Jon mocked at his dad. “I’ve got to get me a minion to do all the work.”

  “Jon, find two, please. I think you’ll need two or more to complete the To-Do list I’ve put together for you.”

  “Dad, I’ve always treated you with the utmost respect, but don’t you think you’re pushing this a bit too far?”

  Jack grinned, “Perhaps Barbara and Jill should also get some minions. That way, Cindy and I can retire and give directions.”

  Jon shook his head and resisted the urge to give his old man the bird and tell him ‘screw you and the horse you rode in on.’

  Jon siphoned gas until he’d filled the Expedition’s gas tank and then filled two-five-gallon tanks his dad had found at the back of the garage. Jack drove the Expedition, and Jon drove the dune buggy back to the cabin where the women greeted them.

  Barbara started to hug Jon when she caught a whiff of spilled gasoline on his clothes and sent him to the lake with a bar of soap and a change of clothes. She joined him behind the boat dock, and they skinny-dipped while giving each other a thorough scrub down.

  “Barb, should you be in the water? That wound could get infected.”

  “I put a waterproof bandage on. You’re so cute when you worry about me.”

  Jon changed the subject. “I hope Dad’s joking, but he insists we need to find some people to join us so he can get more work out of us. I don’t know what’s on his mind, but he has big plans.”

  “I don’t know your dad very well, but if I were you, I’d tell him to share his plans or go take a flying fu …oh crap …leap into a pile of shit.”

  “Thanks, the F-bomb isn’t very ladylike, but I agree with you. I’ve been leading our small group, and I hope the others have confidence in me. I think Dad has big plans to build a new community, and I think we only need small groups who can stay below the radar.”

  “Jon, I think you’re right about how to survive. I think I told you that the billionaire behind the rogue CDC folks already had a huge network of supporters across the country. The same guy from California who tried to buy every election since 2020. I heard he got tired of spending billions on campaigns and started building allies to take over the country by bribing local and state officials to rig elections. My boss was certain those people had survived the virus, and they were taking over the military and the entire government.”

  “That means they have the resources and equipment to hunt down the immunes and also kill off any group who doesn’t support his ideology,” Jon added.

  “I think your dad means well, but I don’t want us to draw attention to our group.”

  Jon changed the subject again. “Does your dad know about that Tweety Bird tattoo at the top of your thigh?”

  “Oh, hell, no! But my brother does.”

  “Now that sounds kinda creepy. You could have said anything but that.”

  “No ding a ling. My brother hasn’t seen it. I told him I did it when I turned eighteen. My cousin and I got drunk on Granny’s elderberry wine, stole dad’s truck, and headed into Hattiesburg to get tattoos. She got a rose on her right boob, and I got the Tweety Bird. It was embarrassing to let the man work in that area. ”

  Jon snickered, “And how will we keep our children from becoming delinquents like you?”

  “Who said I’m having children with you?”

  “Well, not now, and I’m happy, just practicing.”

  Barbara laughed and shoved his head under the water. Jon came back up with her in his arms. Barbara cried out, “You’re bigger than me! This isn’t fair. Be careful with my wound.”

  Jon and Barbara embraced, and the water felt a bit warm but pleasant on their bodies.

  Chapter 4

  Lake Tangipahoa – September 2038

  A knocking sound woke Jon up the next morning. He slowly crawled out of bed to check on the origin of the noise. The air was steamy without a breeze to refresh him. He looked up at the Bald Cypress and not a leaf stirred. He saw the bastard who’d woken him up. It was a woodpecker searching for bugs under the bark of a tree just outside the window. The beautiful bird stopped to swallow an insect and looked directly at Jon. The woodpecker wasn’t impressed or frightened by the human and went back to chiseling holes in the bark.

  Jon watched the woodpecker and a multitude of other birds flitting about in the dawn's early light. He wondered what the vastly reduced population would do for the insects, fish, and mammals of the world. He felt they would all gain from the reduced pressure on their habitats and reduced hunting and fishing. Then it dawned on him that without pesticides and herbicides, the gains in agriculture would be set back hundreds of years. There had to be a way to preserve the ability to manufacture good chemicals and forget the bad ones. Then he laughed and said aloud, “Who gets to decide which chemicals are good or bad for mankind?”

  “The survivors get to decide.”

  The voice surprised Jon, and he jumped sideways, ready to fight.

  “Jill, you scared the shit out of me. Don’t sneak up on me again. Damn.”

  “Chicken shit. You’re supposed to be our fearless leader.”

  Jon whispered, “Come with me for a walk.”

  He led her down to the dock, where he shared his thoughts about their group. “I think we need to help others but not grow our core group, so large that others perceive it to be a threat. We don’t want to get on the CDC’s radar. What do you think?”

  Before Jill could answer, they heard a voice behind them. “I think I’d shoot my boyfriend for sneaking off in the woods with a half-naked woman wearing only a t-shirt and panties. Well, I’ll make an exception for Jill.”

  “Barb, I err …”

  “Jon, I’m not worried about you and Jill, but I do like to see you squirm. What’s up?”

  “I’d just asked Jill about what we talked about last night. How big our core group should be. Let’s hear from Jill.”

  “I agree with Jon. We need to become large enough to defend against the typical small forager groups and become efficient at passing on the immunity. Maybe ten to twenty but not thirty members.”

  Barbara said, “The more immunes we can have donating blood helps spread the immunity faster but starts to make us targets. I’m even afraid people we make immune could get greedy and turn us in for a reward. We need to pass on as much immunity as possible and then hide somewhere. Maybe that Washington place would work.”

  “Yes, I’ve been thinking about George P. Washington, myself. Not so much about joining that group, but maybe living up there in Oregon would help us hide until we’ve spread the immunity enough to make a difference.”

  Jill said, “There are pros and cons. It’s colder than a well digger’s ass in the winter.”

  “The crop growing season is shorter. To survive, we have to start growing crops. The season is about gone up there now,” said Barbara.

  Jon scratched his jaw, “Have you considered that most of the crops had already been planted when the virus struck? We just need to find a home and harvest as much as we can before winter, or the birds eat it all.”

  Jon saw his dad walking in their direction. “I’ll explain later, but let’s keep this to ourselves.”

  “Hey, folks, Cindy has some coffee brewing and the same old crap to eat.”

  “Morning, Dad. We were out here enjoying the morning. The skeeters aren’t too bad out over the water. We need to get moving on up to Barb’s folk’s
place today.”

  “We need to discuss that over breakfast.”

  With a flushed face, Jon said, “What’s to discuss? We came here to meet with Barbara’s folks and pass on immunity before heading over to Jill’s parents to repeat the process. Why the delay?”

  Jon and the others were surprised at Jack’s terse response. “Because I think it’s prudent to check out the area before we dash out to meet people we don’t know. I think several days should be enough.”

  Barbara was pissed, “Jack, I know my family and most of the people in their survival group. Granny Jane started a Mutual Assistance Group years ago, and my dad’s kept the group of carefully selected people focused on surviving a potential apocalypse.”

  Jon hated to buck his dad, but said, “Dad, I don’t know where this extraordinary caution comes from, but Barb and I’ll only wait one day to head over to her family. If you don’t want to go, you and Cindy can stay here and guard the plane while the rest of us go there.”

  “Now, Jon, we …”

  “Dad, stop! I’m the leader of our group. You’re welcome to give advice, but there’s only one leader. I don’t want to piss you off, but that’s the way it is.”

  Jack saw Jill and Barbara’s heads nodding in agreement and smiled. “I’m sorry. I’m just used to being a leader and sorry for stepping on your toes. How about checking out the area today and traveling tomorrow before sunup?”

  Jon didn’t want to alienate his dad. “That works for me. I guess you and I can get suggestions for a route from Barb and then check out the area, plus see if we can surveil her folk’s place to make sure thugs haven’t taken over.”

  Barbara cut her eyes to Jon with a puzzled look. Jon winked and said, “We can’t be too careful. Barb and I need to dress for the day. Dad, you can put your eyes back in your head. Jill already has a girlfriend.”

  Jack’s face glowed in embarrassment when he was caught staring at Jill’s assets.

  Barbara snickered, “Jack, you’ve been busted. I wouldn’t have that happen around Cindy.”