Caldera Book 4: Countdown To Oblivion Read online

  Caldera Book 4

  Countdown To Oblivion

  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

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Caldera The Series

  About the Author

  Also by Heath Stallcup

  Also From DevilDog Press

  Chapter 1

  Hatcher leaned forward and took in the force ahead of them. “Fuck me…”

  Hollis nodded slowly. “You can say that again.”

  Hatcher groaned as he stared at the Zulus coming up the mountain toward them. “You have got to be shitting me.”

  Hollis spun in his seat and eyed Hatcher. “Tell me there’s a way around them.”

  Hatcher’s mind spun as he tried to remember the other trails in the area. “I…don’t know if they’re clear.”

  Buck sat up and pointed to their left. “There’s a trail we can get through over there. It’s a long way around, but it was passable yesterday.”

  Hatcher nodded. “Yeah, it takes you back past the lake, but once we’re past the fishing area there’s a dozen different ways back to the center.”

  “We only need one.” Hollis grabbed his radio and announced the change in plans. All three Humvees suddenly turned and drove off the trail. The Zeds blocking their path seemed confused at first, then broke formation and began chasing the trio of trucks.

  “If you don’t step on it, they’ll gain on us,” Hollis barked.

  The driver tried to respond through clenched teeth. “The terrain is too rocky, sir.”

  “Step on it!” Hollis reached for the radio again. “Fire up that .50. Change their minds about following us!”

  The gun turret operator in the second Humvee did his best to hang on as the rear truck shot past on their right. He tried to target the lead runners, but the sights were everywhere. “Sir, I can’t get a bead on them.”

  “Spray and pray, dammit!” Hollis’ voice sounded frantic over the radio. The turret operator began firing backward into the crowd and wasn’t surprised that most of his rounds went wild. The one round that hit barely scratched the Zed’s shoulder and didn’t slow him down.

  “I thought if we missed, the wind off these things would knock ’em down,” the operator muttered.

  His sergeant ordered, “Hold the chatter on the coms and keep shooting.”

  The gunner stopped firing and keyed his coms again. “Sir, they’ve broken off the chase.”

  Hatcher leaned out the window and groaned. “Son of a…if they keep on through that stand of trees, they’ll reach the lake before we do.” He turned to Hollis and shook his head. “They’ll intercept and have plenty of time to set up a gauntlet.”

  “Stop!” Hollis barked. He turned in his seat and watched as the Zeds ran off at high speed to his right, not slowing as they hit the tree line. “Turn us around. Now!”

  “What are you doing?” Hatcher asked, leaning up closer to the captain. “There’s probably more back on that hill.”

  “We’ll run them down if they are. An army of Zeds I won’t mess with, but a small handful? Bugs on a windshield.”

  The three Humvees bounced back to the original trail they were on, all the while the occupants watched the trees to ensure that the enraged cannibals didn’t double-back. As soon as they crested the hill, the occupants of the lead car breathed a sigh of relief. The trail was clear for as far as they could see.

  Hollis turned to face Buck. “Are there any more clans between us and the Visitor Center?”

  Buck shook his head. “I can’t know which clan that was. If it’s the group I’m thinking of, this is their turf. There shouldn’t be any more.”

  Hollis visibly relaxed and sat back in the seat. “I’ll radio the chopper and let them know we’ll be late.”

  “Are you sure they can’t just pick us up?” Hatcher asked, still looking behind him.

  Hollis shook his head. “Terrain is too rough and the trees too close.”

  Hatcher groaned and gripped the M4 tighter. He continued to stare out the windows and watch. The truck took a sharp curve and he snapped his head around to see where they were. He actually sighed with relief as he recognized the landmarks. “Should be just over that rise.”

  The driver slowed again and paled. “Sir?”

  Hollis turned his attention to the front and ground his teeth together. “Go through them!” He leaned out of the open window and leveled his 9mm at the Zeds hovering just outside the edge of the parking area. They turned when they heard the engine approaching and began running in different directions as it drew closer.

  Hollis tracked one with his pistol, but didn’t pull the trigger. “Looks like they aren’t trying to stop us.”

  Hatcher pointed to one of the creatures as it scrambled up a short embankment. “Is he carrying a rifle?”

  Hollis squinted in the midday sun and followed the creature up the slope. “Looks like it.” He leaned back and gave Hatcher a wary look. “I could have sworn one of the Zeds that first blocked our path was carrying a rifle, too.”

  Hatcher nodded. “I saw that, but…I just assumed he was using it as a club.”

  Buck turned back to the pair. “What are the odds that two of them would carry rifles?”

  Hollis gave him a look he understood. “You lived here with them. You ever see something like that before?”

  Buck shook his head. “Not that I’ve noticed, but it’s not like I hang out with them. I try to give them as much leeway as I can.”

  “Smart move, kid.” Hollis caught the Visitors Center in his peripheral vision, then turned and faced the front again. “To the left. On the other side of that rise.”

  The driver turned for the hill and the four watched the chopper suddenly rise from the ground and veer away from them. “What the…” Hollis reached for his radio, then froze.

  A pack of Zeds were running toward them at top speed. “Move to secondary LZ!” he yelled into the radio.

  “Get up.” The biker kicked his cohort on the bottom of the boot. “You’ve slept enough.”

  The man grunted, farted, and rolled over. “Five more minutes, Mom.”

  “How come you can’t sleep in a hotel with a real bed, but you can sprawl your happy ass out on a slab of concrete and sleep like the dead?”

  The biker opened one eye and grinned. “Mattresses are too soft, man.
” He sat up slowly and stretched. “Besides, concrete holds heat.”

  “Yeah, no shit.” The first biker turned back the rest of the water bottle, then tossed it aside. “I feel like jerky, and here you are embracing the suck.”

  “What can I say? I like to be warm.”

  The first biker slipped his radio back into his jacket and straddled his bike. “I still can’t raise Squirrel on the squawk box.”

  The second biker dusted the dirt and small rocks from his pants, then climbed aboard his own iron horse. “So, are we heading south to find him or going home?”

  The first biker gave him a dirty look. “You really want to tell Simon we lost both of his lieutenants?”

  The other biker shook his head and spit. “Not me, man. That’s your job.”

  “Guess again.” The first biker hit the electric start on his ride and revved the engine. “Looks like we’re headed south.”

  “What if he went into Albuquerque?”

  The first biker scratched at his chin and pondered the thought. “Then I guess we can yell at him for leaving his radio off. What else can we do?”

  “Man, we’d never find him. Rio Rancho is big enough, but if he went—”

  “We’ll worry about it when we find him.”

  The second biker gave him a worried look. “You mean if we find him.”

  “No, I mean when we find him. We ain’t going back to Simon empty handed. We either find him alive and kicking or we find him dead.” He kicked the bike into gear and pulled onto the highway. The second biker begrudgingly followed closely behind.

  Charles stared at Dr. LaRue as if she had threatened to shoot him. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been scratched, Charles. You know the protocols.”

  “But…he is responding to the treatment. Surely he isn’t—”

  “Take him now!” she barked.

  Two orderlies grabbed the rotund man by the arms and led him to the isolation ward. Charles struggled only a bit at first, but soon realized he was in no position to fend off two large orderlies.

  Vivian collapsed into her chair and followed him with her eyes. “I want him watched like a hawk for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “Ma’am? If he’s infected, it should manifest within a matter of moments.” One of the younger researchers stated. Vivian opened her mouth to reply, then realized, she couldn’t remember the woman’s name. Was it Carol?

  “This is a different situation. The subject is responding to the treatment, but we have no idea if he’s a carrier, if the viral load is gone, weakened, or…” She threw her hands into the air. “We just aren’t dealing with the same situation.”

  “Understood.” The young woman stepped back to her workstation and Vivian tried to remember who she was. She had nearly two dozen people on her staff and other than Charles, she really didn’t care to know who the others were.

  She sat up slowly and stepped over her broken coffee mug. She found another cup and filled it with the caffeinated brew.

  She watched through the doors as Charles struggled with the restraints and then finally relax. He laid back on the table and stared at the ceiling, his jaw flexing. She took a quick sip of the coffee, then pushed her way into the isolation ward.

  “I’d offer you another pillow but—”

  “Screw you, Vivian!” He bellowed. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself, because once I get out of here, I intend to report you to the chain of command!”

  She nodded gently. “You certainly have that right.” She took another sip of the coffee and didn’t really taste it. “But you know as well as I do that the protocols are in place to protect everybody. Not just those who may be infected.”

  “He’s practically cured!”

  “Practically is the key word there, Charles.” She set the coffee down and pulled her pen light. He glared at her as she approached him.

  “Don’t you even think about it.”

  “Don’t struggle, Charles.” She replied softly. “You are in no position to resist.” She lifted his eyelid and studied the whites of his eyes. “So far, nothing.”

  “Ya think?” He responded sarcastically. “What did you expect?”

  She clicked the pen light off and stared down at him. “I fully expected to see blood pooling in the sclera. Perhaps from blood vessels that burst or perhaps from—”

  “Well, it isn’t going to happen because I’m not infected.” He set his jaw and stared at the ceiling again.

  “Can you know that with absolute certainty?”

  He jerked his head back to her and shot her a look that was pure hatred. “Yes.”

  She nodded softly and crossed her arms. “Headaches?”

  He gave her a confused look, then his features slightly softened. “Well, maybe a little. But it’s because I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours.” He fought to keep his voice level as he spoke. “Too much caffeine and lack of sleep causes headaches, you know this.”

  She nodded, then tilted her head to study him again. “Any pain in your extremities?”

  He turned worried eyes to her again and nodded. “A little. I assumed it was just fatigue, or that maybe the orderlies got a little too rough.”

  “Possibility.” She glanced at her watch and made a mental note. “You know that I have to hold you for twenty-four hours.” He groaned and his body went slack. She patted his leg as she reached for her coffee. “I would suggest you use this time to catch up on that sleep you missed out on. Once we’re confident you haven’t contracted the virus, I’ll be the first to apologize for the inconvenience.”

  Charles blew out a breath and nodded. “Fine.”

  She turned to leave when he asked softly, “Mind hitting the lights on your way out? It will make it easier to catch a few winks.”

  She nodded and reached to slap the switch on her way out. She did an about face and watched him for a moment through the glass of the doors. She grabbed an orderly and whispered, “I want somebody checking his vitals every hour on the hour. Try not to disturb him, though. He needs to rest if he can.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The orderly made a note then trotted off to continue his duties.

  Vivian sighed then went to her office. She had people in the chain of command to notify of the incident. How do you explain that one of your lead researchers may have been infected?

  She was not looking forward to this call.

  Henry turned the pickup down one road after another. “Tell me you see a damned dump truck.”

  Wally shook his head. “I don’t even see a tractor we could use.”

  Henry cursed under his breath. “I don’t get it. We live in a freakin’ desert. How can we not find a truck full of sand?”

  “It’s not like in the northeast where they salt and sand the roads, Hank.” He sighed and propped his chin on his hand. “Seriously, I think we’d have better luck if we just looked for a tractor with the big scoop on the front.”

  Henry slowed the truck, then turned and stared at Wally. “There used to be an equipment rental place over bySears.”

  “So?”

  “So? So, we go by there, pick out a tractor with the front end loader attachment, and we scoop up the sand ourselves.”

  Wally shook his head. “I know there’s sand and dirt everywhere, but where is there any that’s close to the warehouse? I say, let’s go by a Home Depot and get bags of play sand. It’s already sacked up like they do concrete. I can sit on the back of the truck, and dump it out as you drive along, and then we drive over it a couple of times.”

  Henry stared at the man open-mouthed.

  Wally shrugged. “What?”

  “That is the single most best idea I think you’ve ever had.” He broke into a wide smile and put the truck back into gear.

  The pair drove like mad to the nearest hardware store and Henry drove through the thin, flimsy bar meant to keep people out of the lumber yard. They drove to the rear of the lumber load-out section, and, as hoped, there was a full pallet of ba
gged sand.

  Henry slapped at Wally. “You’re a friggin genius.”

  The pair climbed out and loaded bags of play sand into the bed of the truck. Wally patted the top of the pile, then nodded to Henry. “I think this is enough. Let’s go!”

  Henry slid back into the cab and pulled the truck out of the lumber yard. He half-expected a Zulu to rush him as he pulled back into the light of the sun. Between the damned marauders and the cannibalistic infected, his nerves were about shot.

  Wally sat in the back of the truck and used a box knife to cut open as many bags as he could without losing the sand. He propped the bags on end and made himself a place to sit near the tailgate while Henry maneuvered the pickup through town.

  When Henry pulled past the gas station with the burned-out Civic, he slowed and waited for Wally to get into place.

  Wally plopped onto the tailgate and gave him a wave. “Ready. Just go slow.”

  Henry let his foot off the brake and tried to keep the gouges in the road approximately lined up with where Wally was sitting on the tailgate.

  He watched Wally slowly dump bag after bag and they even had a few left over when they reached the spot that the Civic had burned. They scattered as much sand over the burnt pavement as they could, then drove back down the road to inspect their work.

  Wally paled and turned to Henry. “It almost looks worse. It’s like we purposely left a trail.”

  Henry grunted. “We pretty much did.”

  They stopped the truck midway down the street and studied it. “Maybe if we used a big push broom?” Wally offered.

  Henry shook his head. “You’d be able to see that it was swept. That would tell anybody that somebody was near.”