Spore Series | Book 3 | Fight

by Soward, Kenny

  “I’ll avoid the Stand,” Bishop sighed, not interested in an end-of-the-world scenario. He pushed that one aside and searched until he found the perfect book. He held up the heavy hardback and appreciated the weight in his hand. “There we go. Perfect. Christine.”

  Bishop had a seat on the couch, opened to the first page, and plunged in.

  Chapter 11

  Kim Shields, Indianapolis, Indiana

  Kim guided Mobile Unit XI west on I-70 toward Indianapolis, weaving between choke points on the road. There had been long stretches with no wrecks at all, and open highway cruising at a steady sixty-five miles per hour with her bright lights turned on. Although, the road grew more choked the closer she came to the city, forcing her to slow down and take her time.

  The night absorbed everything, and she couldn’t discern much outside the beam of her head lamps. The city glow she expected on the horizon wasn’t there, and she fought another battle with hopelessness as humankind’s dismal future nagged at her mind.

  Kim thought about a song she and Bishop used to sing together, an old folk song by a band they both loved. She smiled, remembering her husband’s deep baritone and her own shaky soprano. Neither sang well, though Kim had a solid leg up on him, taking after her own mother who sang like a bird. Her heart spiraled downward once again as her thoughts drifted to her parents and brother. She’d been so caught up in finding a cure for Asphyxia, she’d only made cursory attempts to reach them.

  No matter where she looked, death surrounded her.

  “Sorry, guys,” Kim said as she wiped a tear away. “It all happened so fast. I couldn’t think straight much less find everyone. But I’ll apologize in person when I get to you. And I will get to you.”

  She felt her priorities shift. With Paul working on a cure for Asphyxia, that burden slipped away, and she wanted to reunite with her family and bring them to the cure.

  AMI had reported the spore count inside the bus was minimal due to turning the air filtration to maximum and Kim’s cleaning efforts. Not long after talking to Bryant, she’d stopped for thirty minutes to wipe the front of the bus with disinfectant before resuming her drive. An hour later, she’d taken samples from the dashboard only to find new spores spreading where she’d cleaned.

  Asphyxia was one tough fungus, and it would be an ongoing battle to extinguish it from the bus before she reached Ft. Collins.

  Bucking up in her seat, Kim glanced at the GPS screen. Indianapolis sat on the horizon, less than five miles away, and she forced herself to slow to thirty-five miles per hour to avoid clipping the increasing piles of wreckage.

  “Hello.” AMI’s soft tone filled the cabin.

  “Yes, AMI. What is it?”

  “I’m picking up radio signals that might interest you.”

  Kim’s brow furrowed. “What kind of radio signals?”

  “Citizen band signals.”

  “CBs?”

  “That is correct,” AMI confirmed in her clipped but polite tone.

  “Interesting. Who would be out here talking? Though I suppose it could be anyone. Patch them through. I want to listen.”

  “I’ll do it now.”

  There was a moment’s pause before a man’s static thin voice sprung from the speakers.

  “...notice any scavengers around? Over.”

  “Negative, Spider Web,” replied a woman. “No activity since the uprising. Over.”

  The man called Spider Web replied. “Can you believe Jergensen kicked the bucket? Over.”

  “She was a tough lady,” the woman replied. “She’ll be missed, but it’s time to move forward.”

  “I read you, Eagle,” Spider Web replied. “Odom got control of things quick, which will benefit everyone. Scavengers will be back at it tomorrow. Things will get better. You’ll see.”

  A handful of seconds passed before Eagle’s voice turned curious. “Hey, Spider Web. I’ve got an incoming vehicle approaching you eastbound on I-70. Get ready to spring the trap.”

  Kim leaned forward in her seat and listened hard.

  “What’s the make and model of that vehicle?” Spider Web’s tone slid from casual to military professional. “And do you have an ETA?”

  “Unsure on the make and model,” Eagle replied. “It’s a big bus. You can’t miss it. They’ll reach you in approximately three minutes.”

  She sat back in her seat as the revelation settled on her shoulders. “They’re talking about us, AMI. They want to catch us.”

  “How can I help?” AMI replied.

  “Please provide an alternate route.” Kim swallowed down a lump and turned her eyes to the road, looking for the spies.

  “Calculating,” AMI said.

  Slowing the bus to a crawl, she waited for AMI’s reply. Kim remembered the raiders who’d blocked Bryant and Jessie on the expressway near Zanesville, causing them to leave their vehicle behind and hole up in a barn. It had been a near deadly detour.

  “Take the first right ahead and merge onto I-465 north.”

  Kim glanced up as they passed beneath the I-465 junction sign coming up in a quarter of a mile.

  “Good call,” Kim glanced at the GPS. “I can use the loop to skirt the city, though they might have more traps waiting.”

  “Would you like me to calculate all alternate routes through the city?”

  “Please do it now.” She edged the bus toward the ramp and took a northern direction.

  “Something’s wrong, Spider Web,” Eagle said. “The fly is taking another route. Over.”

  “What direction?”

  “They’re on I-465 now, heading north.”

  Spider Web gave a pause before responding. “Do you think they’re listening?”

  “Switch to alternate channel just in case,” Eagle said, and their communication ended.

  Kim gripped the wheel and hugged the inside of the sharp curve guiding her onto I-465. A mess of cars and trucks lay crashed against the outer guard rail, one having slammed through to crash fifty feet below. Her wide eyes scanned back and forth across the road as contingency plans formed in her head.

  If they tried to block her, Kim could use the bus as a battering ram and plow through anything lighter than an armored vehicle, and she had some guns if it required a firefight. Still, she didn’t want a confrontation if she could avoid it.

  “Can you find them, AMI?”

  “Scanning all channels now.”

  The CB scanned the channels with faint rippling sounds until AMI located them, and she listened in to Eagle and Spider Web as they resumed their conversation.

  “I’ll send a light vehicle after them,” Eagle said. “Over.”

  “Let me know if we need to alert the guys up north,” Spider Web replied. “They’ve got some armor that might stop them.”

  Kim cursed silently as she pushed their speed up to forty-five miles per hour. An exit for Pendleton Pike approached, and she flipped off the headlights.

  “AMI, do you have those routes yet?”

  “I calculated a thousand possible routes through the city.

  “What if I get off Pendleton Pike? Can you get me across the city and back on I-70?”

  “That won’t be a problem.”

  Heart pounding like a hunted rabbit, Kim edged Mobile Unit XI to the right side of the road and took the exit ramp. At the end of the ramp, she turned the bus left onto Pendleton Pike and cruised beneath the expressway and entered the Indianapolis suburbs.

  “Is anyone following us?” Kim asked.

  “My rear camera detected a vehicle approaching as we exited the expressway, though they remain a quarter mile away.”

  As if on cue, Eagle spoke. “Uh, Spider Web. It seems we lost her around Pendleton Pike.”

  “Take Pendleton Pike and perform a spotlight search,” Spider Web said. “I’ll notify the people up north to keep an eye out, and I’ll send two light units to assist you.”

  “Roger that,” Eagle said, her voice sounding excited with the prospect of a chase.
“Taking Pendleton Pike now.”

  Kim drove at a reduced speed for the next half mile, passing darkened fast-food restaurants and retail outlets until she spotted headlights behind her. With a soft curse, she whipped the wheel left and guided the bus onto a side street.

  Another quick left found her in the lot of a retail complex, and she pulled the bus behind the store, turned it around, and left the nose peeking around the corner to provide her a view of the street.

  She raised in her seat and leaned forward, waiting to spot headlights or other movement on the road. When nothing moved out on Pendleton Pike, she settled back and thought.

  Her eyes shifted to the GPS map on her dashboard. Kim used her fingers to reach over and manipulate the map, expanding it and moving it around to get a view of all interstates leading out of the city. She noted AMI had highlighted the top three routes, and she scrolled down and saw where I-70 continued to Terre Haute, Illinois.

  As she studied the map, she monitored the communication between Eagle and Spider Web. Eagle still searched around Pendleton Pike, and the two support units reported their locations being west of Kim.

  They’d trapped her in a pincer move.

  Whenever someone reported a new location, she moved the pin to match. Her enemies drew closer as the seconds ticked by, and it became clear Kim needed to do something fast. Her stomach knotted up with fight or flight fears, adrenaline shooting through her bloodstream as she gripped the steering wheel and lingered her foot over the gas pedal.

  A powerful spotlight beam shot through the yards to her left and illuminated Pendleton Pike. It only needed to sweep right to illuminate her bus.

  Trapped with no other options, she sighed and nodded. “AMI, can you patch me through to them?”

  “I can. Are you sure that’s wise?”

  “Probably not, but I want to throw them off our trail.”

  “One second.” Pause. “Go ahead.”

  “This is Kim Shields of the CDC,” she announced to the people pursuing her. “I’m driving the bus you’re tailing, and I have no intention of being captured in your little web. Over.”

  There was a pause before Eagle spoke. “We’re part of the Colony military unit, Ms. Shields, stationed at the Indianapolis International Airport. We apologize if you mistook our communication as aggressive. We have no interest in harming any United States citizens, especially not a member of the CDC. I’m sure our Colonel Odom would love to speak with you about what happened. Why don’t you let us take you back to the Colony and get you settled in?”

  “I’m on a special mission,” Kim replied. “I don’t need a military escort.”

  “I’m sorry, but we demand you stop where you are and provide us your location.” Authority suited Eagle well, because she threw orders around like no one’s business.

  Kim replied with a sneer. “It’s too late. I’m already on I-65 heading northwest. I’ve got CDC business in Chicago. Orders from General Miller in Washington.”

  “Stop first,” Eagle ordered. “Once we’ve verified your orders, we’ll let you go. In fact, we’d love to escort you.”

  “No thanks,” she growled. “I don’t trust anyone out here, and my mission is too important.”

  “But you can trust us.” Eagle seemed distracted, as if checking her own GPS to determine what routes Kim might have taken to reach I-65. A moment later, a military jeep flew by down Pendleton Pike. “We’re the United States Military, ma’am.”

  Kim grinned wickedly. “I’ll call you from the Windy City and let you know I arrived safe.”

  “Spider Web.” Eagle’s voice seethed. “Switch to our tertiary band.”

  “Roger that,” came Spider Web’s reply.

  “Track them, AMI,” she spat as she rested in the driver’s seat and stared after the jeep.

  “I’m sorry, but they must have switched to another communication medium.”

  “Keep looking. At least we’ve got them confused.”

  Thirty minutes later, Kim started the bus, pulled out of her hiding spot, and stopped at the corner. She looked both ways but saw no lights in either direction. And considering the streets lay bathed in blackness, any light would stand out and draw her attention.

  “Take a left on Pendleton Pike,” AMI said, and Kim gave the bus some gas and pulled out onto the strip.

  She cruised at thirty miles per hour with only her fog lights on to illuminate obstacles smaller than a full-sized vehicle. Following AMI’s directions, Kim left Pendleton and navigated the back streets of North Indianapolis. Her own directional instincts fell to pieces after they’d taken six turns.

  Kim paused the bus at several stop signs before she realized traffic laws no longer existed. Still, she slowed at every corner and looked both ways out of habit. The steering wheel grew tacky beneath her sweaty palms despite the air filtration system turned to maximum.

  Asphyxia covered everything in its fuzzy grip. Bodies lay in the streets and in yards, cocooned as they rotted into the ground, feeding the hungry fungus. Homes were already falling in disarray as green grass struggled through in patches, fighting its own battle with the aggressive growth.

  After fifteen minutes, she pulled to a corner and stopped to let the bus idle. A glance up at the street sign showed they sat on the corner of 28th Street and Eastern Avenue. She glanced at the GPS screen and saw they neared a neighborhood called Brightwood, and I-70 lay just south of them.

  “Can we just jump back on I-70?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “Yes, we can. You would take a left here then a right on 25th Street. Then you would turn left onto Keystone Avenue to join I-70.”

  “I guess the question is, will we run into another roadblock?”

  “It’s safe to assume every expressway is under surveillance,” AMI added. “However, I’m detecting no radio activity...wait.”

  Kim cocked her head and waited for AMI’s explanation.

  “I’m picking up something on the civilian emergency radio channel.”

  “Feed it in, AMI.”

  A girl’s voice filled the cabin. “...is Tessa York. I’m with my mom, and we’re stuck in our apartment. Is anyone out there? Can anyone hear me? I repeat, this is Tessa York, and I’m trapped with my mother in our apartment. There are bad people around, and we’re hurt and hungry. Can anyone help? Is there anyone out there?”

  Kim gripped the wheel and stared south. The expressway was right there. In three minutes, she could be on her way to her family, though her heart twisted at the desperation in the little girl’s voice.

  She closed her eyes and thought about the boy she’d found lying next to his dead mother back in Washington at the beginning. She hugged her arms against her chest, recalling his weight in her arms as he suffocated. She remembered the hot tears of helplessness that had stung her cheeks.

  “Patch me in, AMI,” Kim said through firmly pressed lips.

  “Done.”

  “Hello, Tessa.” She raised her voice. “Are you still there?”

  “Who is this?” Tessa asked.

  “My name is Kim Shields. Can you put your mother on?”

  “Hi, Kim,” the little girl responded with an earnestness that tugged at her emotions. “Can you help us?”

  “I think so. Put your mother on for me please, okay?”

  “Okay. Hold on.”

  A pause filled the cabin before an adult woman’s voice replaced the little girl’s. “Hello? This is Clara York, Tessa’s mother.” Her voice strained higher with pain. “Who am I speaking to?”

  “This is Kim Shields with the CDC out of Washington.”

  “You’re a long way from Washington,” Clara said.

  “It’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell you about it soon. What’s your situation?”

  “We’re trapped in our apartment complex off 23rd Street. It’s the Caramel Creek Apartments.”

  Kim checked her GPS and traced the street with her finger. “That’s just two blocks from our location. Ho
w did you survive the spore clouds?”

  “When I heard about them coming, I was already out at the Home Depot. I picked up air filters and masks for us and sealed up the apartment as soon as I got home. My husband was a maintenance man, so I found boxes of caulk and tape in our apartment.

  “Smart lady. What happened to your husband?”

  “He didn’t make it,” Clara said. “He was at a different property and wouldn’t come home, even though I begged him. He laughed and said the news was just fear mongering again...” Clara gave up and swallowed hard, her words caught in her throat.

  “What kind of trouble are you in?”

  “I sprained my ankle scavenging for food,” Clara explained. “It’s swollen, and I can’t walk. Tessa has scavenged the apartments in our building, but I won’t let her go outside.”

  “I understand,” Kim frowned, imagining how terrifying that might be for a girl. “Are there any dangerous people around?”

  “Some military people often patrol the area.” Clara’s tone took on an ominous note. “But I don’t think they’re very nice.”

  “Have they been around recently?”

  “Not in a few days.” Clara sounded tired and defeated. “But I don’t want to leave the apartment and get caught. I won’t even light a candle for fear someone might see us, even with the windows blackened.”

  “I understand.” Kim hoped Bishop had listened to her, unlike Clara’s husband. Her determination hardened as she decided. “I’ll come get you, Clara. I have transportation, and I can pick up you and your daughter. I’m heading to Colorado, if that’s okay.”

  “We don’t care,” Clara scoffed. “Anywhere but here. And thank you. Thank you so much.”

  “Now, give me your apartment number and gather up everything you can carry. Help is on the way.”

  Chapter 12

  Randy and Jenny Tucker, Indianapolis, Indiana

  Randy lifted a five-gallon bin of rice and heaved it atop another on the skid before he went back for more. While he and Jenny were tired and sore from the fight with the soldiers, something about the manual labor cleared Randy’s head. Sweat beaded his forehead and soaked his shirt around the neck and beneath his arms.