Caldera Book 3: Return To Yellowstone Read online

  Caldera Book 3

  Return To Yellowstone

  Heath Stallcup

  Copyright © 2017 by Heath Stallcup

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Edited by Rob M. Miller

  Cover by Jeffrey Kosh

  Created with Vellum

  To both of my girls.

  You both love zombie stories and this is a different twist on the genre for you.

  It may not be what you’re used to, but if the ‘zombie apocalypse’ ever really does come, it most likely will be some kind of rage virus versus the slow, shambling, walking dead.

  Rule #1: Cardio…

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Caldera The Series

  About the Author

  Also by Heath Stallcup

  Also From DevilDog press

  Chapter 1

  The camouflaged figure slowly approached in the darkness, skirting the buildings and staying low as it moved. Scurrying along the edges of buildings and using low brush as cover when it moved, it hurriedly maneuvered around abandoned cars and smoldering piles of detritus, then slipped in behind some clinging vines. A gloved hand banged on the heavy steel door and stepped gingerly in front of the aperture as a peephole slid open and guarded eyes took in the figure.

  “Password.” The voice was low and gruff, muffled through the thick steel.

  “Let me in, dammit,” the figure responded. “I may have picked up a tail.”

  “Then give me the friggin’ password.”

  “Albatross. There. Are you happy now?” The figure kept glancing over its shoulder as the bolt to the steel door was slid and the rusty hinges screeched in protest with the opening. Pushing against the door to speed things up, the figure slipped inside and helped push the door shut. When the bolt was pushed back into the locked position, the figure reached up and pulled the camouflaged hood from its head. “Took your sweet-assed time,” the dark-haired man said.

  “Maybe during your next go you’ll give me the password instead of attitude, Hatcher.” The much larger guard looked down on the man, a crossbow held in his meaty hands.

  “Password. Seriously? Who’s boneheaded idea was that? For crying out loud, you know me.” Daniel Hatcher pulled the camo poncho off and tossed it aside, the bag draped over his shoulders shifted with the action.

  “If I recall, it was your idea, smart guy.” The guard shot him a smirk and leaned against the steel door. “Maybe you should rethink your own rules if you don’t like them.”

  Hatcher gave him a blank stare before shaking his head and walking deeper into the ruins of the old warehouse. People milled about inside the shadows, doing their best to keep their noise level to a minimum. Experience had taught that excess noise could attract the others and the last thing any of them wanted was another confrontation.

  In the months since the virus was released on the unsuspecting people, more than three fourths of the earth’s population had been killed, consumed, or converted. At least, that was the best estimate before the infrastructure finally collapsed, and everything was thrown back into the Stone Age. Things people once took for granted were now a luxury. Clean water, readily available food sources, health care of any sort, fuel, electricity, nearly all of the services people had come to depend on were now so rare that mankind was in a state of war. Not only was he fighting the viral zombies known as Zulus or simply the others, but he also had to fight his fellow man just for the basics to stay alive.

  Hatcher walked through the makeshift hallways and distributed some of the foodstuffs he had gathered during his trip that night. He always tried to give a little extra to those with small children, and one couple was in dire need of formula. That was the only reason he chanced the others this night. Due to the lack of food lately, the mother, who had been breastfeeding, had dried up. Her only source of nourishment for her baby girl was gone. They had tried some powdered milk, but it just wasn’t cutting it. Hatcher knew the area better than most, so he volunteered to go out and try to find something they could use. He lucked out when one of the houses ventured into had three plastic baby bottles, still in the packaging, and four unopened packages of powdered formula. He dug through the cabinets and found some glass jars of baby food as well. He had no idea if the baby could handle such fare, but if not now, very soon she would. He’d dumped it all into one of the burlap potato sacks tied around his neck, and filled the other with whatever canned goods he could find in the other homes. All said, it was a good haul.

  As he stepped into the quiet office the small family now called home, he placed the sack gently on the floor. “I got lucky tonight.” He winked at the young mother who sat on the floor, rocking the baby. “Just remember to boil the water before you make formula, okay?”

  The young man who sat beside the two, crawled to Hatcher’s side and nearly fell over when he saw the goods Daniel had brought. “Where in the world did you find this stuff?”

  “A house a few blocks from here. There were toys in the yard, so I chanced it.” He began to hand the stuff over, and in the pale candlelight, Hatcher noticed tears running down the young man’s face.

  As Daniel turned to leave, the young father pulled him into an awkward embrace and whispered in his ear, “Bless you.”

  Hatcher patted the man’s shoulder. “Just keep taking care of them. We’ll get through this.”

  He stepped out of the office and into the hallway once more. Although there was that tiny part of himself that truly wanted to believe they could survive this outbreak, the bigger part felt that homo sapiens were now on the endangered species list.

  Candice Olson sat atop the warehouse near where the vines had reached the roof. She constantly scanned the area around the building looking for anything moving below. In the darkness, she used thermal view, and after the long months following the outbreak, had figured out the difference in the heat signatures of an infected and a non-infected. Although she knew that Hatch was back, she had never seen him approach, nor did she hear anything until the large steel door slammed shut. She smiled, knowing he was safe and back inside. It was hard enough being out and about with the others, but at night, it just seemed worse. They had a bad habit of showing up out of nowhere and in large numbers.

  In recent history, the others had begun forming up in packs, much like wild dogs. She supposed that hunting in numbers increased the chances of a meal. She had once had the misfortune of seeing what they did to a person they made a meal out of. Usually, nothing was left but a few bones, and even those had scrapes across them from teeth. She involuntarily shuddered at the thought and pulled her jacket in tighter.

  Hearing a crashing sound in the distance, Candy hunkered close to the wall and peered over the edge with the thermal binoculars. She scanned the area and heard a similar sound again. It was off to her right, in the trees where she couldn’t make out anything. Every now and then a flash of color would show up moving quickly through the trunks, but she couldn’t make out any discernible shapes. She hea
rd another clanging, crashing sound and watched as two people burst from the tree line and bolted across the warehouse parking area. As soon as they were in the clearing of the lot, heat signatures from all sides began pouring out and rushing toward the pair.

  Candy reached for her belt and pulled her radio. “We have incoming!” she whispered loudly. “They’re being chased by Zulus.”

  “Are they hot?” came the static-filled reply.

  “Negative.” Candy continued to watch through the thermal binoculars as the pair ran in the general direction of the warehouse. “They’re headed toward us.”

  “Wait one.” The radio hissed and crackled with the reply.

  “They don’t have one!” she nearly yelled as she followed the frantic pair.

  With the howls of the pursuers and the screams in the distance, Candy never heard the steel door being opened, nor did she hear the calls to the running couple, but she watched as they suddenly changed course and began running toward the warehouse entrance. She sighed inwardly and reached for her rifle. Wally had fitted the barrel with a suppressor to keep noise to a minimum, and she levelled the weapon across the edge of the building, sighting in on the running figures below. There wasn’t a lot of moonlight, but she could see well enough to take out the lead runner. She took a bead on the next attacker and dropped it as well. She purposely skipped the next one. It was obviously a child before it had been turned and she still couldn’t bring herself to shoot a child, even though they were just as dangerous as the adult Zulus.

  She continued firing until she emptied the magazine, then slipped back behind the edge of the roof and waited, hoping the others would either lose interest and leave, or hunt elsewhere. Moments later, she heard banging on the metal door below and squeezed her eyes shut. She knew what would be asked of her if they didn’t stop soon, and she didn’t want to do it. She had spotted children in the crazed crowd.

  It didn’t take long for the radio to bark back to life. “Drop the heat on them.” Candy lowered her head and could feel the moisture threatening to escape as she debated telling the radio voice to go to hell. Instead, she stood and picked up one of the Molotov cocktails scattered about the roof and lit the rag hanging out the top. As she walked to the edge of the building, she looked down at the growing number of Zulus packed around the door and let the flaming bottle slip from her fingers. She turned her face at the last moment to not have to see what happened next. She knew from prior experience.

  The wave of heat that climbed the wall washed over her and she heard the screams from the creatures below. She didn’t need the thermal binoculars to see the flaming creatures as they ran into the night, setting some of the dry grass and smaller tinder afire as they ran from the source of their pain. As the screaming and pounding faded from her hearing, Candy chanced a glance over the edge. She nearly lost her supper when she saw the lone scorched figure laying prone on the ground by the door, parts of its body still aflame, crushed by the larger creatures in their haste to escape the fire. It was one of the children.

  Denny Wallace stood by the steel door as the pair ran through the opening and helped the guard slam the door shut behind them, Zulus beating on the metal as soon as the bolt was thrown. “What the hell were you doing out there at night?”

  The pair collapsed to the floor, sucking in air as they tried to catch their breath. The male counterpart tried to meet his eyes, but quickly turned away. Between ragged gasps, he answered, “Scrounging for food.”

  The female clung to him for dear life, her eyes jumping from face to face as she took in her surroundings. Denny shook his head in disgust as he assessed the pair lying on the concrete floor. “We could have lost the entire compound because of you two.” He looked up and hooked a chin at somebody in the shadows. “Get these two to quarantine. Check every inch of them.”

  The male jerked his head up in surprise. “Wh-what?”

  “We have to make sure you weren’t bit or scratched while you were out there traipsing around in Zulu territory.” Denny turned to leave when the man reached out and grabbed his pants leg.

  “Wait, we weren’t! I promise. There’s no need to check us for…”

  Denny turned and glared at the man. “If you want sanctuary here, then you go by the rules. Both of you will be inspected top to bottom for bites and scratches. If we find any, you’re out on your skinny ass. If we don’t, then come morning, you’re free to leave, or we can discuss you becoming a part of our merry little band of misfits.” He bent down and stared at the man. “Do you have an issue with my rules?”

  The man shook his head. “No,” he stammered. “I mean, no, sir.”

  Denny stood again and gave him a gruff grunt. “Good.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Quarantine is this way. After you’re checked out, you can clean up and we can get you something to eat. After that, you’re welcome to crash for the night.”

  “Thank you.” The woman’s voice was barely heard as she tried to get to her feet.

  Denny paused as he was about to leave and turned his head slightly. “Don’t thank me yet.”

  The pair were escorted to the quarantine area and placed behind a makeshift curtain. Both were told to strip down to their birthday suit for a thorough inspection. The male raised a brow and began to balk at the notion of getting naked in front of a stranger. “Hey, it’s not like one of those things could have bit the business end of my happy stick.”

  The woman standing on the other side of the curtain putting on a latex glove paused and replied, “I’ve seen stranger things.”

  The man begrudgingly pulled what was left of his underwear down and the woman stepped in. She found him standing with his back turned, both hands cupping his happy stick. “Don’t worry. I was a nurse before all this. I doubt seriously you have anything I haven’t seen before.”

  “If it’s all the same, I’d like to keep Mr. Happy covered until I have to.” His face was red as he spoke and the woman simply shrugged.

  “Suit yourself. But ‘Mr. Happy’ will get inspected or you and he will have to find other accommodations.”

  “Jason, just do what they tell us.” The female called from her side of the curtain. “I don’t want to go back out there.”

  The man exhaled loudly and dropped his hands while the nurse went over him with a fine-toothed comb. When she was finished, she handed him a water basin with a wash cloth, a towel and a hotel-sized bar of soap. “There’s a kettle of hot water over there. Feel free.”

  “I don’t know if it will do much good. I lost my pack with my extra clothes in it almost a week ago.”

  “We have some extras. Surely something will fit. At least they’re clean.” She pointed him to the area where the drain in the floor could carry away the dirty water and turned her attention to the woman.

  As she did her inspection, the nurse suddenly paused. She had found a nasty scratch across the woman’s shoulder, but it was nearly healed. “When did this happen?”

  The small woman looked at it and shrugged. “A little over a week ago.”

  The nurse nodded and continued to stare. “How did it happen?”

  The girl shrugged and shook her head. “I’m not really sure. We were running from one of those things and tried to use the woods as cover. I’m still not sure if it scratched me or it was a tree limb.”

  The nurse stiffened and looked at the wound more carefully. “You’re sure this happened a week ago?”

  The girl nodded. “Could have been a little longer.”

  The nurse nodded, made a note on her clipboard, and continued her inspection. When she finished, she handed her a basin and towels and another hotel-sized bar of soap. “Same drill. I’ll be back shortly with some clothes.” She pointed to a door on the far side. “That room is our quarantine area. The two of you can stay there tonight. I’ll bring your clothes to you there.”

  “Thank you.” The girl lowered her eyes and headed toward the drain where Jason was just finishing and dumped the muddy water into the
drain.

  The nurse stepped from the room and leaned heavily against the wall. She pulled the mask from her mouth and ran a hand through her hair. Nervously, she glanced back through the glass window in the door at the couple and nearly jumped when she heard someone directly behind her. She turned and saw a young girl standing beside her carrying a tray laden with food and bottled water. “Oh, my god, Skeeter. You nearly scared me to death.”

  “Sorry, Miss Vicky. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “No, it’s okay.” Vicky Sue glanced back through the window once more, then in a hushed tone told Skeeter, “As soon as you give them the food, gather up Hatcher, Wally, and Henry. Tell them I need to talk with them.”

  Skeeter nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She quickly entered the room and set the food on the small table outside the curtain, then hurried back out and down the hall. Vicky Sue watched her as she trotted down the hallway then made her own way to the small office she used as an infirmary. She couldn’t be positive, but the scratch on the woman’s back looked exactly like a human nail scratch. If it was from one of the infected and the girl didn’t turn…well, it could mean a number of different things. It could mean she was naturally immune. It could mean the infected’s hand wasn’t carrying the virus somehow, or…possibly she’d misidentified the scratch.

  She plopped into her chair and used the sleeve of her lab coat to wipe the sweat from her brow. Whatever the situation, there was a chance that half-starved, scared, young lady in their quarantine room might well hold the answer to this plague.

  Colonel Vickers stepped around the crowd of people who were trying to get to the new chief of staff and the president. His report took precedence over anything these people might have to say. He paused and stared at the line of people and shook his long face. Standing on his tiptoes, he caught the attention of the lone secret service agent and raised his brows. The man nodded and bent to whisper something in the president’s ear. The man nodded and the secret service agent waved Vickers on. Between the colonel and agent, the crowd was forced apart and Vickers waded through until he was within swinging distance of the leader of the free world, even if it was in name only.