Caldera Book 7: The End Is Here Page 19

  He swallowed hard as he approached the scene, his mind unable to piece together the remains and make sense of what his eyes were seeing.

  He held the back of his hand to his nose, hoping to quell the coppery smell of blood mixed with internal organs and excrement. His eyes constantly scanned the grounds for bright orange clay; Will had told him that all of the IEDs were brightly colored to keep uninfected from accidentally triggering the devices.

  He leaned into the alley and stared down the length. He could see the back of a four-foot plywood board attached to the wooden fence. It had to be one of the signs he ordered placed at the entrance. Rather, it had better be the sign.

  He slipped into the alleyway and counted a dozen or more of the bright orange devices scattered about, partly buried in the ground.

  “What was it?”

  He turned slowly and saw Will approaching through the brush. Hatcher shook his head. “I can’t tell.” He nodded toward the mass of the remains. “Whatever it was, it was pretty big to make that much of a mess.”

  Will squatted and poked at some of the mess with a stick. “Covered in hair.” He looked up at Hatcher and shrugged. “Maybe a dog?”

  Hatcher raised a brow. “Have you seen any stray dogs since this outbreak began?” He shook his head. “If I were a betting man, I’d think they had all been run down and eaten.”

  Will stabbed at the chunk with the stick and lifted it from the ground. “It resembles dog hair. Are there wolves in this area?”

  Hatcher shrugged. “Not in a long time.”

  Will stepped closer and held the piece out to him. “I’m still going to say animal. This hair doesn’t look human. It doesn’t look like deer or rodent either.”

  Hatcher hung his head. “I can’t believe we blew up the world’s last canine.”

  Will dropped the stick and wiped his hands of imaginary dirt. “Hopefully it wasn’t the last.” He glanced down the alley and sighed. “That blast surely woke up anything that might be close.”

  Hatcher nodded and turned back to the compound. “Let’s go set some people’s minds at ease and double the sentries at the wall. If the noise brings out the Zulus, I want enough people available to repel boarders.”

  “On it.” Will keyed his radio and alerted the off-duty sentries while Hatcher walked to the camper and banged on the door.

  Trevor cracked it open and Hatcher saw Patricia clinging to his leg. “It appears an animal triggered one of the IEDs.” He gave the girl a kind smile, hoping it calmed her. “There’s no immediate threat, but there’s the chance that the sound might attract the infected. If you want to bring her inside, we can find a room for you.”

  Trevor looked down at the girl and gave her a lopsided smile. “Want to go inside? They have toys.”

  Hatcher stiffened, his mind replaying the events on the monitor when Patricia ripped the head from the doll.

  He wanted to rescind his offer, to tell Trevor to just hole up, lock the door on the camper, but before he could think of a way to disinvite them, the pair were out of the camper and walking toward the gates.

  “Maybe it would be best if we keep you isolated. Just until people calm down from the scare.”

  Trevor nodded, reading nothing in Hatcher’s tone. He escorted them into the hall and waved Cooper over. “Show them to an empty room. Maybe gather up some toys for the kid.”

  Cooper gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry I was late getting out there, boss. Damned blast caught me on the shitter.” Hatcher opened his mouth but couldn’t find an appropriate response. He gave Cooper an odd look and Dave broke into a toothy grin. “To say that the blast expedited the delivery would be an understatement.”

  Hatcher simply nodded as the man chuckled at his own joke then saw Roger pushing his way through the front gates. “What happened? We heard the explosion from blocks away.”

  Hatcher hooked his thumb back to the alley. “Apparently a stray animal found one of the IEDs. Nobody was hurt.”

  Roger seemed to relax. “Thank god.” He blew his breath out hard then smiled when he saw Candy slowly approaching. His smile slowly faded and he gave her a worried look. “Is something wrong?”

  Hatcher’s eyes widened and he held a hand up. “I have to let folks know what we found and set their minds at ease.” He glanced at Candy and saw the red around her eyes. “I’ll, uh…catch up with you later.”

  He marched down the hall, doing his best to put as much distance between the couple and himself as he could.

  Broussard said nothing on the return flight. He exchanged knowing glances with Carol on occasion and fought the urge to engage in conversation with the soldiers. When the helicopter landed he quickly made his way below decks and back to the laboratory.

  Carol was on his heels the entire way and once the door was sealed she began to peel the tactical gear off. “Can you believe that? He all but admitted that the military doesn’t even want to bother trying to cure them.”

  Broussard fell into his chair, the added weight of the gear bottoming out the pneumatic spring. “Oui. I can believe it.” He pulled the helmet off and let it drop to the deck. He gave her a sad look and shook his head. “They are content, perhaps pleased, to rebuild society with a fraction of the population.”

  Carol threw her helmet across the room and let it bounce off the metal cabinets. “That’s bullshit!” She ripped at the Velcro fasteners and lifted the heavy vest off her shoulders. “There’s no way to bring ‘society’ back. The numbers are too depleted.” She tugged at the boots and slipped from her chair and fell to the floor, which only angered her more.

  “The best they could hope for would be to scavenge for resources that are available.” He wiped a thick hand across his face and propped his elbows on the table. He held his face in his hands and sighed heavily. “Perhaps they could attempt farming. Perhaps they could bring back some manufacturing, but something tells me that we will all be living in the dark ages.”

  Carol tossed the last of the gear to the corner of the lab and came to her feet. “More like the 1800s.” She cocked her head toward the door. “They still have their guns. It would be the Wild West all over again.” She blew her breath upward, blowing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. “Just with a much smaller population, and…” Her eyes grew wide. She turned to Broussard and shook her head.

  “What else troubles you?”

  She leaned close and lowered her voice. “Those with the power make the rules. We know this from history.” She cleared her throat nervously and stared at him. “How many women have you seen aboard this ship?”

  Broussard shook his head. “Not many. Why? What is it you fear?”

  Carol swallowed hard and gave the door a furtive glance. “Every society depends on one thing to survive…children. With men outnumbering the women…what? Ten to one? Twenty to one?”

  Broussard groaned as the realization struck. “Survival of the fittest.” He leaned back in his chair and began to tug at the fasteners. “We have to find a way off of this ship.”

  Carol blew her breath out nervously and tried to wet her dry lips. “I doubt we will convince the captain to let us go ashore again.”

  Broussard placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We are two of the brightest minds aboard this vessel. If anybody can dream up a viable excuse to go back out there, it is we two.”

  Carol nodded nervously. “Maybe for the next application? We could tell them we need to get a head count…to try to get an idea of the surviving Zeds? We’d need a way to assess our ability to bounce back from this, right?”

  He held a hand up, calming her. He peeled the last of the gear off and dropped it to the floor. “Oui, but we have problems to work around.”

  She gave him a confused look. “Like what?”

  “Like how we plan to get past the assigned guards that will surely be placed with us once we go back out there.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “We need to be cautious, but thorough.”

  Her face paled as she
stared at him. “I don’t know if I could…”

  “Relax.” Broussard stood and reached for his labcoat. “We have time to make our plans.”

  Her voice quivered as she spoke. “I hope you’re right.”

  Simon slowed the big truck and stared through the windshield. “Fuck me…I’m too sober to remember where we left those stupid bulldozers.” He leaned back and sighed, his bourbon bottle empty in the floor.

  He eased the big diesel out onto the roads again and looked either direction at each intersection, hoping that something would stand out to him. He drove street to street, his eyes constantly scanning for any familiar landmark.

  “This is such bullshit!” He slammed his fist down on the top of the steering wheel, his frustration blinding him. He mashed the accelerator and shot up the block, his eyes still searching each building he passed. He slowed for the next intersection then slammed on the brakes.

  “Well hello, beautiful.” Simon smiled as he turned the steering wheel and drove up the block. He pulled the big truck up over the curb and parked on the sidewalk outside the liquor store he had raided. “Maybe a little hair of the dog, eh?”

  He hopped down from the lifted truck and pushed his way into the store, his pistol waving about in front of him. “Anybody want to get dead?” He stood silently just inside the door and listened for movement.

  “That’s okay. I’ll just make myself to home.” He walked down the aisle with the whiskeys and bourbons and grabbed at random bottles. He set them on the counter then reached for a small cardboard box to stack them in.

  In the light of the doorway he held up one of the bottles and grinned to himself. “Ooh, this is the good shit. Single malt. Twelve years old, just ripe.” He peeled the plastic from the top and took the corked cap in his teeth. With a hard tug he popped the cork and tilted the bottle back, sighing internally at the burn as it washed down his throat. “Oh, damn…that IS good.”

  He slapped the cork back into the neck and set the bottle in the box. He carried it to the passenger seat then slid in behind the wheel.

  He backed the truck off of the sidewalk then froze, his hand resting on the gear selector. He stared ahead and locked eyes with a Rager holding a length of pipe in his hand.

  Simon’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the ghostly remains of a man standing alone in the shadows, the pipe swaying menacingly in his grip. He felt his jaw tighten as he watched the creature take a step forward, his eyes focused on his prey.

  “What are you gonna do, fucktard? I got a truck that can squish you like a bug.” Simon revved the diesel engine and pulled the gear selector into drive. “You want to play chicken? I promise…I’ll win.”

  Even with the windows up, the explosion that went off just blocks away hit the cab and startled him, jerking his head toward the noise. When Simon snapped his head back around to the Rager, he had disappeared.

  “If that was some trick to get away, it won’t work.” He applied pressure to the gas pedal then stopped. “Ragers ain’t smart enough to set off a bomb…”

  Through the alcoholic haze, Simon’s mind began to piece together possible scenarios. He turned again and spotted the dust cloud rising into the air. “Fucking Cagers.”

  He smiled to himself as he put the truck into reverse and pointed the nose in the direction of the ruckus. He smiled as he muttered, “Let my people go…mutherfuckers.”

  Chapter 25

  Hatcher made his way back through the hallways and stepped out into the courtyard. He looked up at the sentries and nodded. “Anything?”

  “All quiet, boss,” a sentry replied.

  “For now,” a second sentry added. “I reckon if there’s any Ragers…er, Zulus nearby, they’ll come sniffin’ round.”

  “Eyes open, fellas.” Hatcher marched through the courtyard and to the wall sentries. “Look for any signs. Dust in the air, bushes moving unnaturally, anything that just doesn’t feel right.”

  “We’re on it, Hatch.”

  Hatcher could feel his guts tightening, his ribs aching as he made his way back to his office. He sat down gently behind the monitors and reached for the cold cup of coffee nearby. “Something tells me that this is going to be a long night.”

  A knock at his door barely pulled his attention from the monitors. “Come.”

  “Ya got a minute?”

  Hatcher felt his blood run cold as Roger stepped inside. “Sure, Roger. What can I help you with?” He knew what was coming and hoped he didn’t overdo it playing dumb.

  “Candy just found out that she’s pregnant.” He fell into the chair next to Hatcher and waited.

  Hatcher took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Yeah, that can happen when you…” He swallowed hard. “So, how’s she doing?”

  Roger shrugged. “I think she’s still in shock.” He took a deep breath and stared at the monitors with Hatcher. “I don’t know if it’s hormones or…”

  Hatcher turned and gave him a hard look. “Don’t ever say that to her. Trust me.”

  Roger snorted a sad laugh. “I’m not that stupid.” He reached out and laid a hand on Hatcher’s arm. “Hatch, I don’t know what to do.”

  Hatcher gave him a confused look. “How do you mean?”

  “If it was…you know. Before. I’d ask her to marry me. I’d want to be there for her and the kid.” His voice caught in his throat. “But now? With the world all upside down?”

  Hatcher gave him a frown smile. “Rog, the only difference now is there’s a chance the world won’t survive.” He turned to face him and shook his head. “But it definitely won’t survive if we don’t add more people to it.”

  “Hatch, there’s creatures out there that want to eat us. Can we really bring a kid into a world like that?”

  Hatcher pointed past him to the courtyard. “Do you see all of that crap scattered around out there? Those are TOYS. For KIDS.” He shook his head at the man. “You may not realize it, but we already have a fair number of the wee beasties here. Granted, none are newborns, but that’s beside the point. He sighed heavily and patted the man’s shoulder. “Don’t be afraid of being a dad. You’ve got plenty of people around here willing to help.”

  Roger sat back in his seat and blew his breath out hard. “But, is it fair to the kid?”

  “You, of all people, should already know that life’s never been ‘fair.’” Hatcher adjusted the brightness on one of the monitors as he spoke. “Sometimes we just have to step up and do what needs doing.”

  Roger gave him a lopsided grin. “That’s what I figured you’d say.”

  “You just needed to hear somebody else say it?”

  “I guess.” He leaned back and eyed Hatcher. “I don’t suppose you’d marry us, would you?”

  Hatcher did a double take and stared at him wide eyed. “I’m no preacher.”

  “You’re the closest thing we have to a justice of the peace.” Roger held his hands out wide. “You’re the captain of this ship whether you like it or not.”

  Hatcher found his mouth moving but no words coming out. He stared at Roger wide eyed. “Are you sure? I mean…is Candy okay with all of this?”

  “I’m about to ask her.” Roger slowly came to his feet. “I don’t care if it isn’t legal or…whatever. In the eyes of those that matter, it will be.”

  Hatcher stood and extended his hand. “I’d be proud to.”

  Roger took his hand and shook it. “Too bad you can’t officiate and be best man, too.” He gave him a lopsided grin. “I guess I better go bend the knee to Candy and hope she doesn’t beat me to death for being stupid.”

  “Good luck.”

  Hatcher watched him walk out and he breathed a silent prayer of relief.

  Carol stuffed the sturdiest of clothes into a duffle, ensuring that she packed as many changes of socks as she could. She’d always been told that changing your socks regularly prevented foot rot.

  She nearly jumped when she heard the knock at her door. She quickly shoved the duffle under her bunk and s
hut the small locker that held her belongings. She cracked the door then sighed with relief when she saw Broussard outside.

  “Come in.” She pulled the door open. “I was just packing.”

  A slow smile crossed his features as he stepped inside. “I spoke with the captain. He certainly didn’t want to allow us on another mission, but when I explained that we needed to measure the speed at which the infected are being cured in order to ‘tweak’ our formula, he capitulated.”

  She gave him a confused look. “There is no ‘tweaking the formula.’”

  Broussard snorted. “You know that, and I know that…” He let his statement trail off.

  Carol’s eyes widened. “Ahh! Gotcha.” She sat on the edge of her bunk. “And he went for it?”

  Broussard nodded. “We leave in a few hours for the next mission.”

  “Do we know where that will be?”

  Broussard nodded as he sat across from her. “Apparently they’re going back to San Diego. About ten miles from the last sight.”

  “Why so close?”

  Broussard smiled. “They have to drop us off at the last sight so that we can observe the progression of the cure.” He crossed his arms and gave her a knowing smile. “They’ll drop us off with our escorts and then proceed to the next sight.”

  Carol blew her breath out hard. “So now we have to come up with a way to shake the escorts.”

  Broussard nodded. “We may well have to play that by ear.”

  She held her hands tight to prevent them from shaking. “Are we sure that this is the right thing to do?”

  He hiked a brow at her. “You were the one that determined you were no longer safe.”

  She nodded her head slowly. “But you don’t have to come with me. You’re a man. You’re also the creator of the retrovirus. You may well be invaluable to fixing this.”

  He shrugged slightly. “I’d rather know that you were safe.” He gave her a knowing look. “Do you truly believe that you would be better off on your own?”

  She sighed and stared into the shadows of her room. “If the cure works…then yeah.”