Riker's Apocalypse (Book 3): The Precipice

by Chesser, Shawn

  And Tara’s at Disneyland, thought Riker. Out loud, he said, “Think Shorty can navigate around this?”

  “Not much room,” proffered Lia. “And those barriers will probably need to be winched out of the way.”

  The hillside on the left was steep, but Riker figured the Shelby could tackle it. It took all of his will power to not drive around the block, power up the embankment, and leave Shorty to fend for himself. Instead, knowing that the time and daylight burned trying to talk the man to Trinity over the radio could be better used searching for Tara, he hailed Shorty and asked the man if he remembered Buccaneer Park in Mississippi.

  Shorty came on right away. “Almost died twice.” He paused. “And it’s Miss Abigail’s final resting place. I’ll never forget it.”

  “Same routine, then,” Riker said. “I’ll use my winch to move the two barriers on the right. You hook up to the Humvee behind them and pull as soon as I’m out of the way. We should be moving again in five or so.”

  “Copy that.”

  There was no way to thread the vehicles through the bodies, and Riker couldn’t justify taking the time to move them. So he tried his best to avoid running over them as he nosed the Shelby perpendicular to the pair of barriers. Each time the big tires rolled over a fleshy obstacle, he said, “Forgive me.” Three times he uttered the phrase before the pickup was in place.

  After spooling out some cable, Riker jumped from the truck and ran the hook to the barriers. With Benny standing guard, Riker wrapped the cable around both barriers, threading it through embedded eyehooks. Two birds, one stone.

  Back in the truck, Riker put the seven hundred horses under the hood to work. At first, until heat and friction dried the pavement, there was a little slipping and sliding. Once all four tires found purchase, the pickup lurched backward. The noise of two and a half tons of cement being dragged down the ramp was drowned out by the revving engine. The vibration from all that weight in transit, however, resonated through the pickup’s frame and floorboards and manifested as a vibration felt deep in everyone’s chest.

  As the barriers rode over the pronounced drop-off where the shoulder abutted the infield, they toppled over and quickly ground to a halt in the damp dirt.

  Riker set the brake, hopped from the pickup, and rushed over to help Benny unhook the barriers and get the cable spooled back up. Reversing the process, they ran out cables from the EarthRoamer’s dual winches and hooked them up to the Humvee’s frame-mounted tie-down points.

  The EarthRoamer had a hard time getting the Humvee’s front tires to break free. Shorty was forced to reposition Marge on the ramp a couple of times to get the angle right. All of the jockeying back and forth was taking a toll on the corpses of the would-be marauders.

  Once the squat Humvee’s desert-tan snout was facing down ramp, towing it from behind the remaining Jersey barriers was an easy affair.

  Ten minutes lost, thought Riker as he got them rolling through the breach and past the lone Humvee still standing sentinel. Just as the Shelby crested the ramp, Riker saw the crows in his wing mirror. Still in flight, they had coalesced into a glossy black cloud. As he continued to watch, the birds winged around in front of the EarthRoamer, flared in unison, and dropped en masse on the newly ravaged corpses.

  After thirty minutes of not knowing what had become of Tara, the non-stop headache assaulting Riker was joined by a feeling of despair that no amount of glass-half-full thinking would make go away.

  ***

  Fifteen minutes later, the Shelby was nosed up to the gate to Trinity House and Riker was tapping out the access code on the keypad.

  Rose awaited them on the circular parking pad. Clutched in her hands was a tightly wound dish towel. Sitting on his haunches next to her, stout shadow falling across the bloodstain that—short of a good pressure washing—was going nowhere, Dozer watched with canine indifference as the vehicles rolled toward him.

  Riker didn’t take time for introductions. That would come later. Right now his first priority was seeing the basement safe room Rose had described. A close second was getting eyes on the map and blueprints to the so-called Lazarus bunker.

  As the passengers opened doors, Riker asked Benny to hang back a second.

  Already halfway out of the truck, Benny grabbed Riker’s headrest to arrest himself. “What’s up?” he asked, hanging over the seatback.

  Near the front of the Shelby, Steve-O was doing his best to comfort Rose, who was on her tiptoes and craning to find Benny. Lia was standing off to the side. Her body language suggested she was unsure of what she should do. Vern, on the other hand, had closed the door behind him, gone straight to Dozer, and was now busy scratching the pooch behind his cropped ears.

  Riker met Rose’s inquisitive gaze, held up one finger and mouthed, “Give us a second.” She nodded, so he turned to face Benny. “I don’t want you to make a big deal of her being alone. If you do, it’ll just feed her anxiety.”

  Benny looked a question at Riker.

  “There may again come a day when she has to hold down the fort all by herself.”

  “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  Riker shook his head. “We’re only as strong as our weakest link, Ben. Feelings aren’t facts. We’re going to need to build up her confidence, not cosign her fears.”

  Incredulous, Benny said, “Tara is missing, Lee. She isn’t answering her radios. Is that lost on you?”

  Unbuckling his seatbelt, Riker said, “It’s not lost on me. It’s all I’ve been thinking about since Rose got ahold of us. I’m torn up inside over this, Ben.” He bowed his head. “In my mind’s eye, I keep seeing her in the clearing.” He paused for a beat. Regarding Benny, he continued: “And in that vision, I see a group of biters feeding on her. Just fucking ripping and tearing at her guts.”

  Struggling to put a positive spin on the situation, Benny said, “You and I know how Tara likes to take the bull by the horns. I’m sure she’s investigating the Lazarus place. Maybe she got locked inside and is just waiting on us to rescue her. I doubt those crappy radios work inside a bunker. If that’s what this Lazarus thing really is.”

  Riker said nothing. He was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles had gone white.

  Benny said, “Remember when we were coming back from a night out in Fort Wayne?”

  Riker nodded. “The night you kept hitting on my little sister? How could I forget, you horny bastard.” He chuckled at that. “She wasn’t having it, bro.”

  Smiling, Benny said, “We were still kind of buzzed and stopped at that McDonalds for coffee.”

  Eyes lighting up, Riker said, “And Tara got herself locked in the bathroom. We thought she was driving the big porcelain bus. But she wasn’t puking at all.”

  “And her phone was in that ratty Monte Carlo you used to drive.” Smile fading, Benny said, “She’s going to be OK, Lee. Just you watch. She’s locked in the bathroom in this Lazarus place.”

  Pushing from his mind what Lazarus really meant to him, Riker elbowed open his door. “Let’s check out this bunker Rose stumbled upon.”

  Chapter 42

  The stairs leading down into the bunker were steeper than Riker imagined them to be. Each step down elicited a flash of pain from his overworked stump. When he set foot on the gray cement floor, he paused to survey his surroundings.

  Rose’s initial description of the Trinity House bunker had been nondescript and conjured up images of his parents’ basement rumpus room. What he found himself staring at was in reality closer to NORAD’s Cheyenne Mountain Complex than what he had been expecting to find. It was like night and day. There was so much detail Rose had left out: the multiple clocks on the wall. The bank of computers. He couldn’t believe she had left out the HAM radios crowding the workbench. Though a bit old technology-wise, they would be a game-changer if they actually worked and were connected to an external antenna. The setup made the little Motorola handheld radios look like kiddie toys.

  “Wow!” was th
e first thing that came to Riker’s mind. He moved away from the base of the steps so Benny and Rose could join him.

  Benny’s tongue wasn’t tied. He said, “It’s like the bridge of the Voyager.”

  Riker looked a question at his friend.

  “The spaceship from Star Trek Voyager.”

  “I only watched the Shatner reruns. If you would have said Starship Enterprise, I’d have understood.” As he paced the room, he couldn’t help but think there had to be a hidden egress tunnel somewhere. A lot of house sitting above that steep ass stairway for there not to be a second way out. Filing the thought away for future exploration, he regarded Rose. “Where’s the map you mentioned?”

  Stabbing a thumb at the ceiling, she said, “Upstairs. I lugged the stack of blueprints up as well.” She pushed her glasses back to their proper perch on her nose. “Shouldn’t we be looking for Tara?”

  Riker nodded. Not looking forward to scaling the steps, he said, “Let’s go,” and shooed the couple ahead of him.

  Unfolded, the map took up half of the dining room table. Riker planted his palms on either side of the map and gave it a quick once-over.

  Rose edged in and pointed to the clearing. From there she traced her finger along the path running east away from the clearing Tara had been working on. “Tara said she’s been up this path, just not all the way to where this Lazarus thing is supposed to be.” Relocating her finger to a point north of Trinity House, she pointed out the dashed line denoting a road that cut a shallow east-west arc across the top of the map. If everything was to scale, the road wouldn’t be far from the outer wall.

  “This really caught Tara’s attention,” Rose said. “The key indicates it’s a fire lane. Tara was amazed she hadn’t already spotted it during her walks to and from the clearing.”

  “This map is old,” Riker stated. “I’d guess if there is a road there, it’s probably unrecognizable by now. Likely to find only a couple of dirt tire tracks overtaken by underbrush and cactus.”

  “Only way to find out is to take a look. First thing, though, is to go to the clearing and make sure she’s just not so absorbed in her work that she’s forgotten about the radio check-ins.”

  Benny said, “That’s not like her.”

  Steve-O was throwing the ball for Dozer. Riker called, “Coming with?”

  Adjusting his Stetson, Steve-O said, “If the pretty lady is lost, I want to help find her.”

  “Get a coat,” Riker instructed. “Probably want to grab some water. Since there’s only about ninety minutes of sun left, be smart to grab a couple of headlamps, too. And maybe change out of those fancy boots. Wouldn’t want to scratch them up on day one.”

  Steve-O said, “My dad used to say even fancy boots were meant for wearing.” The heels clicked on the wood floor as he strode off to fill a couple of water bottles.

  Regarding Lia and Vern, who had been standing on the periphery, Riker said, “Who’s coming? It’s about a mile and a half round trip. If you don’t want to, you’re welcome to stay behind and keep Rose and Dozer company.”

  Rose looked to Riker. “Tara’s my friend. I want to help look for her.”

  Benny beat Riker to the punch. “You should stay back and monitor the radios. Besides, Lee’s friend, Shorty, found us. He’s out getting stuff ready. You’ll meet him later.”

  This spurred Rose to ask: “Did you find Crystal?” Her tone was hopeful.

  Benny nodded. “She was at the county lockup…” He paused. The look on his face conveyed what he had left out.

  Rose exhaled sharply. “She’s one of those things, isn’t she?”

  Benny told her about Riker and Lia rescuing Warden Littlewolf and her men. He left out Luther Carr’s gruesome death. He also kept quiet about the cul-de-sac gunfight.

  Riker said, “Littlewolf confirmed that Crystal did not survive the outbreak inside. I don’t think a single prisoner got out alive.”

  Crestfallen, Rose took a seat on a stool. Regarding Riker, she said, “Thanks for checking for me.” She hefted the Motorola off the counter. “I’ll stay and watch the cameras. Be sure to keep in radio range.”

  Riker said, “Vern sold us some new long-range jobs. Shorty’s putting batteries in them.”

  She said, “Sold?”

  Benny said, “Long story.”

  After committing the map to memory, Riker scooped up his AR and headed for the door.

  Shorty was waiting beside the EarthRoamer. He passed a radio to Riker and kept one for himself. “They’re all set to Channel 10-1.” He handed a third radio to Steve-O. “Take that to Rose. Tell her it’s good to go.” Steve-O accepted the radio, flashed a salute, and hustled off.

  Shorty had an assortment of weapons and gear laid out on the motor court pavers. Looking to Lia and Benny, he said, “Pick your poison.”

  Benny said, “I’m good with the Glock,” but he still took a headlamp and snugged it on.

  Lia had already retrieved the plastic rifle case from the Shelby and had taken her scoped bolt-action rifle from the protective foam-padding. It was futuristic looking; the milled aluminum stock outfitted with a multi-adjustable cheek-weld and padded stock extension. She selected the appropriate ammunition for her rifle and went to work loading the tiny .22 caliber rounds into the pair of magazines she’d taken from the case.

  Eyeing the rifle, Shorty said, “Anschutz, eh? That thing probably cost you more than that Smart car I destroyed back there. You rich?”

  She shook her head. “My dad bought it for me. He’s … was an airline pilot.”

  He asked, “You need a pistol?”

  “I’m good for now. It’s not like we're going to war, right?”

  Shorty raised a brow. “Better to be prepared and not need it.” He chose a .22 caliber semiautomatic pistol that had been among the spoils he found inside the EarthRoamer. “Takes the same ammo as your tack driver. Ten-round magazine, too.”

  Lia took the pistol without protest.

  Riker had been watching the exchange. While he didn’t think his opinion of her could go any higher, the way she went with the flow and accepted the offering bumped it up a couple of notches.

  “Take what you need,” Shorty said to Riker. “I’m about to close up shop.”

  Though the handcrafted knife on Riker’s hip had a long, sharp blade, he selected a machete and attached it to his belt opposite the Randall.

  “We going to be doing a little bushwhacking?” Shorty asked.

  Riker mentioned the Lazarus place and fire lane leading up to it. “If the bunker is actually there, I have a feeling it has been a long time since anybody’s used the road.”

  Shorty picked out a machete with a safety-orange handle. It was nicely balanced. He shoved it into a side pocket of his backpack and shrugged the pack on.

  “Blades are real sharp,” Vern called. He was standing by the entry and watching the goings-on. “Ran all of them over a whetstone myself. It’s the little things that keep my customers from going to the big box stores.”

  Kept, thought Riker. Past tense. There are no more customers. Or big box stores for that matter.

  Shorty called, “Steve-O! We’re on the move.”

  A beat later, Steve-O emerged from the side door to the garage. He was still wearing the red boots. He’d swapped the windbreaker for a western-style jacket complete with suede fringe. In his hands was the colorful NERF gun. Orange-tipped darts could be seen in the clear plastic magazine. And though the white Stetson was pulled down low, the brim couldn’t hide the wide smile on the man’s cherubic face.

  “Got fresh batteries,” he called. “Let’s do this.”

  Turning to Riker, Shorty asked, “Think he’s ready for a big boy piece?”

  Riker shook his head. “Not yet.”

  “When?”

  “Soon,” Riker said as he strode off toward the back of the house.

  While they made their way counterclockwise around Trinity House, Shorty provided a running commentary. “You choose the
place?”

  “All Tara,” Riker responded. “It came furnished, too.”

  “Came with more than home furnishings,” Shorty noted. “And for so big a place, it sure blends in with the countryside.”

  Benny said, “Can’t even see the roof from the road. Wouldn’t know it was here unless you’ve been here before.”

  Riker stopped in front of the recessed door. He had in one hand a keyring full of keys to the house. Selecting the keys for the locks, he made a quick call to Rose. “What do you see on the monitors?”

  “All clear except for the front.”

  “What’s going on up there?”

  “Looks like you picked up some zombies on the way back. A small pack of them way down at the end of the feeder road.”

  Riker said, “Keep an eye on them. Let us know if you see anything out of the ordinary.”

  Sad days, he thought, when a group of dead humans trooping around is the ordinary.

  Rose came back and warned Riker of the corpses he was about to find on the opposite side of the gate.

  “I can already smell them,” he responded. “You’re in charge until we get back.” He pocketed the radio, then unlocked the door.

  Rose hadn’t been kidding when she said, “Tara made a mess of a few by the back gate.” They were sprawled where they’d fallen, each headshot skull encompassed by halos of clumped brain tissue and congealed blood.

  Shorty said, “Wouldn’t want to tangle with the person who did this.”

  “It was Tara,” Steve-O noted. “She’s gotten real good with her pistol.”

  Riker stepped aside so the others could file through the open door. Gesturing to Shorty’s Booty Hunter hat, he said, “Tara sees that on your head, I can almost guarantee there’s no way to avoid tangling with her.”

  Lia said, “I think you’re right about me liking your sister, Lee.”

  While Riker locked the door, Shorty removed the hat and looked at the image. “I forgot all about this,” he lied and tossed it into the nearby underbrush.