Caldera Book 6: New World Order Read online

  Stinky licked his lips and glanced around nervously. “Do you remember anything from last night? The trip back?”

  Sinner shook his head. “Not really.”

  “Simon wouldn’t even press a towel to your wound. He wanted nothing to do with trying to save your life; wouldn’t even let us use his bottle to sterilize your wound or our equipment. We did what we could.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice even more. “This morning he tried to shoot me in the chest for questioning his motives. Pulled the fucking trigger.”

  Sinner’s brow raised. “You being straight with me?”

  Stinky glanced back again then nodded. “If you don’t believe me, ask Shooter. He was there.”

  Sinner lay back and eyed the smaller man cautiously. “So what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that if Simon has pain pills, you might should tell me where he has them stashed. I don’t think he’s in a sharing mood; not when it comes to drugs.”

  Sinner glanced at the doorway then back to Stinky. “The crates he unloaded from his truck? There’s one with a black leather box.” He shook his head. “He’s got a pile of dirty pictures of the people who lived around here in it.” He swallowed another gulp of water then laid his head back. “They’re in a plastic baggie in the bottom of it.”

  “Bottom of the black leather box. Got it.”

  Sinner’s hand reached out and took his. “No. Not the bottom of the black leather box…the bottom of the box that the black leather box is in.” He grimaced slightly and puffed hard. “Don’t let him catch you.”

  “He won’t.” He stood from the bed and patted Sinner’s good shoulder. “He’s about piss-drunk already anyway.”

  “That don’t mean nothing with Simon.” Sinner groaned and punched the pillow behind his head to fluff it. “The man is what they call a functioning alcoholic. He thinks straighter with booze than he ever could without it.” His gaze narrowed on Stinky. “Believe it.”

  “Gotcha.” Stinky stood at his full height and glanced at the door. “As soon as I have them, I’ll be back.”

  Sinner shook his head. “I’m too laid up. Just hide them.”

  Stinky stepped out of the room and walked back down the hall. He spotted Simon slumped in the overstuffed leather chair, the bottle hanging precariously from his fingers.

  He stepped to the door leading to the garage and into the gloom. He found the crates lined up against the wall and quickly spotted the black leather box. He flipped it open and sifted through the peeping tom shots and a stack of nude selfies. He wasn’t impressed.

  Shutting the box, he quickly pulled it up and set it aside. He dug through the remnants of other people’s lives and just caught the corner of a zip lock baggie. He pulled it out and smiled to himself. He placed everything back in its proper place, tucked the bag full of pills into his shirt, and slipped them into his waistband.

  As Stinky stepped back into the dining room, Simon was leaning against the wall, staring at him. “Whatcha doing there, Stink?”

  Stinky stiffened and nodded back to the garage. “I was looking to see if there were any more bottles of vodka.”

  Simon raised a brow. “What for?”

  Stinky sighed animatedly and placed his open hands on the table. He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “If we don’t keep Sinner’s wounds cleaned out, he could turn septic.”

  Simon raised both brows at him. “What does that mean?”

  “Ever hear of gangrene?” He watched Simon nod slightly. “It’s like that, but it’s basically an infection in the blood rather than the tissues. It can carry all through his body. Kill him from the inside out.”

  Simon nodded. “Would antibiotic help prevent that?”

  Stinky stiffened, standing straight. “It wouldn’t hurt. Do you know where there is any?”

  Simon nodded slowly. “Those empty houses? There were a couple of different types in there.”

  Stinky’s brow furrowed. “You didn’t grab them when you cleaned them out?”

  Simon snorted a laugh. “What the hell would I need those for? I ain’t got the clap.” He pulled a dining room chair out and fell into it. He kicked his feet up and onto the table top. “Doesn’t look like there’s much a chance of me catching it again neither, does it?”

  Stinky sighed and peered out the window. “Do you remember which houses?”

  Simon shook his head. “Nope. I went through all of them, though.” He pulled his bottle and unscrewed the cap. “I know they’re out there. You just have to find ‘em.” He took a long pull, his eyes never leaving Stinky.

  Stinky nodded to himself, his eyes peering out the wide window. “Maybe Shooter will go with me…cover my back while I search.”

  Simon shrugged. “Maybe he will.”

  Stinky moved to walk past him and Simon dropped his feet and reached forward, grabbing Stinky by the wrist. Stinky balked but Simon jerked him closer.

  Their eyes locked as Simon reached up and grabbed Stinky by the waistband and pulled his bag of pills out from under his shirt. “But these? These are mine.”

  He gave Stinky an evil smile as he tucked them into his vest pocket. “Them boxes out there? That’s all MY shit. You don’t go digging through them thinking you can just help yourself.”

  “They’re not for me. Sinner needs—”

  “Fuck Sinner!” Simon yelled, coming to his feet. “These are mine.” He pushed Stinky back and away from him.

  Stinky shook his head, his mouth forming a tight line. “Some leader you are.”

  “You questioning my authority, Stinkmeister?”

  Stinky shook his head. “No.”

  “Good.” He pushed away from him and stepped toward the garage door. “And stay the hell away from my ladies. Them pictures are mine, too.”

  Chapter 6

  Hatcher stacked his boxes in what he planned to make his new office. He could see through the glass separating the office from the lobby and people continued to carry dry goods in the front then out the back to the storage buildings.

  “Getting settled?” Vicky asked, leaning against his door.

  Hatcher rubbed at his temples and shook his head. “I need more of your headache stuff.”

  She tossed him the bottle and he quickly fished some out. “You look like shit, baby brother.”

  “Thanks. I worked really hard to get this look.” He tossed the pills back and took a pull from a water bottle. He sat down behind the desk and stared up at her. “I’m forgetting something, I know I am.”

  “You’re allowing yourself to get overwhelmed.” She stepped into the office and sat on the corner of the desk. “I warned you about trying to take on all of the responsibilities around here. You can’t micromanage everything.”

  He sat back and nodded. “I need to tell you something.”

  Buck knocked on the open door and stepped inside. “You got a minute?” He glanced at Vicky then back to Hatcher. “Bad timing?”

  “No, come in, Buck.” Hatcher sat forward and waved him in. He glanced at Vicky, “We can talk later.”

  “She doesn’t need to leave.” Buck stepped inside the office and glanced around nervously. “I just…I wanted to ask you if…” He trailed off, the words not coming.

  “Just spit it out. We’ll piece it together later.” Hatcher joked.

  Buck nodded and stood up straight. “Since you’re the closest thing to family that me and Skeeter have…” He swallowed hard again. “I wanted to ask your permission if she and I—”

  Skeeter appeared in the doorway. “I told you that you don’t have to ask his permission,” she interrupted. She pulled Buck back and pointed in his face. “We’re grown enough that we don’t have to ask nobody nothing.”

  Hatcher came to his feet and glared at her. “Just hold your horses there, missy.”

  Buck quickly stepped between them and tried to keep the peace. “I know you’re not real family, but I still wanted to ask.”

  “And I told you that you don’t have to
.” Skeeter planted her hands on her hips and stared at Hatcher. “He’s not my dad.”

  “What is this about?” Hatcher felt a knot forming in his stomach.

  Buck whistled low and turned slowly to face him. “Leslie and I want to…room together.”

  Hatcher’s eyes widened and it was Vicky who stepped between him and the wayward teenage girl. “Hold on, all of you.” She pointed to Skeeter. “You. With me.” She grabbed Skeeter and pulled her from the office while Hatcher glared at Buck.

  Buck began to wither under his gaze then slowly squared his shoulders. “I’m eighteen. Skeeter is—”

  “Just a kid!” Hatcher took a deep breath and forced himself to lower his voice. “She’s not old enough for—”

  “We’ve already been together,” Buck interjected. He had to look away and swallowed hard. “We have been since you brought me back.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  Hatcher shook his head and held a hand up. “I can’t know this!” He knew there was no taking it back. It was out there.

  “Hatch, you’ve been like a surrogate dad to her. I just wanted your blessing.”

  Hatcher shook his head. “Buck, you can’t know the pressures I’ve been under. I do NOT need this right now.”

  Buck hung his head. “We’re going to live together anyway. I was just hoping you’d…”

  “What? Give my permission?”

  Buck turned and glared at him. “Understand.”

  Hatcher’s mouth hung open and his brain couldn’t force his tongue to form any words.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, there’s not a whole lot of girls my age running around out there. The world is destroying itself. People are an endangered species now.” Buck lowered his voice and stepped closer. “I really care about Leslie and she cares about me.”

  “Buck, she’s just a kid.” Hatcher’s voice was softer now, his brain trying to comprehend what Buck told him.

  “I know that.” Buck threw his hands in the air. “God knows, I know that. So does she. But it’s a whole new world out there.” He pointed out the window. “It’s a new world order. And we’re not at the head of the food chain. Hatch, we’re just looking for a little happiness.”

  Hatcher sighed and sat down at the corner of his desk. “I hope you two have been…careful.”

  Buck nodded slowly. “The last thing either of us wants is to bring a kid into this world. Not now.”

  “Good.” Hatcher stepped behind his desk and rummaged through a box. He pulled out the bottle of cheap whisky that he’d kept hidden in his desk drawer and held it up. He’d have to find a better hiding spot as Candy and his sister had about drunk it all.

  He pulled out two glasses and poured two fingers in each. He held one out to Buck and held the other up. “To a new world order.”

  Buck took a sip and winced. “That’s horrible.”

  Hatcher tossed his back and swallowed. “Yes. Yes it is. But it’s all I got.”

  Buck tried tossing his back like Hatcher had and nearly choked. He set his glass down carefully and eyed the older man. “So is this your blessing?”

  Hatcher shrugged. “Skeeter’s right. I’m not her dad. I’m not your dad. I can’t stop you no matter how big the mistake I think you’re making is.”

  Buck nodded solemnly. “That’s about what I expected.”

  “But you had to try.” Hatcher slapped the boy’s shoulder. “I will say that I respect you more; I don’t think I would have had the courage.”

  Buck shrugged. “After what we’d been through, I felt I owed you an explanation if nothing else.”

  For the briefest of moments, Shelly flashed through Hatcher’s mind and he quickly pushed her from his thoughts. “I don’t blame you two for pairing up.” He sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes. “I guess if I were honest, I’d probably expect it. I just hoped…”

  “That we’d wait.”

  Hatcher nodded. “But like you said…it’s a whole new world out there.” He stood up and poured another drink. “You can’t be sure there’s even going to be a tomorrow.”

  Buck nodded, knowing all too well the truth of the statement. He turned back to Hatcher. “Well, the cat’s out of the bag, regardless.”

  “Appreciate your honesty, son.” Hatcher stood and walked him to the door. He glanced across the hall to the nurse’s station and grimaced. “I have no idea what Vic is doing, but you might want to steer clear for a while.”

  The pair watched Skeeter hop off the table and wrap her arms around Vic. She was smiling as she exited the station and she sauntered toward Buck. “Come on. We have unpacking to do.”

  Hatcher watched the pair walk away and he pushed open Vicky’s office door. “What did you do?”

  Vicky sighed heavily and shook her head. “There’s no stopping them.”

  “I know. Buck said as much.”

  Vicky sat down heavily and shook her head. “I’m going to try to get her a reliable form of birth control.” She looked up and met Hatcher’s gaze. “They can’t be bringing a kid into this world. Not this world.”

  Hatcher grunted. “Funny. Buck said the same thing.” He glanced at the people still carrying in boxes and sighed. “A new world order.”

  Carol clutched the edge of the small craft and closed her eyes. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

  Broussard took her hand and pulled her closer. “Open your eyes. Focus on the horizon. It makes it easier and the feeling will pass, I promise.”

  She forced her eyes open and could just see the Navy ship ahead. “Is that it?” She pointed to the horizon and Broussard followed her arm.

  “I believe so.” He sat up straighter and stared. “It appears larger than the ship we just left.”

  “That’s a heavy cruiser.” A sailor stated. “You came off a frigate.”

  “So it is larger?” Broussard asked.

  “Much so.” The sailor gripped the line tighter as the craft crested a small wave.

  Broussard nodded with approval. “Perhaps they have a laboratory.” He turned to Carol excited. “Or enough room that we can create one.”

  Carol gave him a shrug then turned and leaned over the edge of the boat, hurling her stomach contents into the sea. Broussard rubbed her back, hoping to ease her discomfort.

  She slumped back and lilted her head to the side. “I hate throwing up.”

  “We all do, I am certain.” Broussard sighed and thanked nature that he wasn’t a sympathetic puker. He looked up and saw the ship growing larger. “We are nearly there.”

  Carol cracked an eye open and took in the ship before them. She sat up straighter and saw the personnel topside preparing to accept the passengers. She smiled to herself then turned to Broussard. “I think we’re going to be okay.”

  She sat by patiently while they offloaded the equipment and then watched as the people climbed the metal ladder one after the other. She was nearly the last off the ship; she paused as she reached the top.

  Carol stared down the barrel of a machine gun. The man holding it pointed to the side. “Females over there.”

  “What is this about?”

  “Inspection. Nobody gets below decks without being thoroughly inspected.” He waved the barrel again and Carol crawled over the edge and onto the rough deck.

  She glanced to her left and saw two women waving her forward toward a makeshift tent. She glanced to the right and saw Broussard standing in line with the other men. His head hung low as they herded the men like cattle into a larger tent.

  She reached for the zipper at the top of her jumpsuit as she entered. “What the hell. Better safe than sorry, right?”

  Stinky stared at the stairs in front of him and placed his hand nervously on the rail. “Remember,” he spoke over his shoulder to Shooter. “Anything at all, let me know. I’m not as fast a runner as I used to be.”

  “I got your back, bro. Just find what you’re looking for so we can amscray.”

  Stinky’s sixth sense was screaming at him with this hous
e and he didn’t know why. The three previous houses were empty, of both infected people and the drugs he needed.

  He took the stairs on his tiptoes, praying he could be as silent as possible. Although there were no signs of life, the hair on the back of his neck was standing on end.

  He reached the top of the stairs and looked back at Shooter. The man was halfway up, his barrel pointed behind them. He turned and gave Stinky the “okay” sign. “We’re good.”

  Stinky swallowed hard and peeked around the corner of the stairs. The bathroom was directly across from him, so he hit it first. A quick glance told him there were no prescription drugs of any kind to be found.

  He stepped back into the hall and pushed open the first bedroom door. It was bright pink with toys scattered about. Not the master.

  He walked quietly down the hall and pushed open another bedroom door. It had been set up as an office.

  The last bedroom was farther down the hall and he paused, his hand hovering over the knob. He gripped it lightly and turned. With the door just cracked, he caught a flutter of light on the other side.

  Stinky froze, his breath caught in his throat. Something pulled the door open slightly; his eyes focused on thin, wispy curtains blowing in the soft breeze coming through the upstairs window.

  He let out the breath he had been holding and pushed the door all the way open. He could see the bathroom on the other side of the master suite and quickly made his way to it. He rifled through the medicine cabinet, squinting to read the labels.

  Stinky smiled to himself as he pocketed Amoxicillin and Azithromycin. He continued to dig through the medicines then paused. He looked down at the drawers built into the sink cabinet and pulled one open. It was full of girly stuff. The next held deodorants and toothpaste. He quickly pulled those out and set them in the sink. The next drawer was full of over the counter antacids and calamine lotion.

  He switched to the other side and found men’s razors and aftershave. The next drawer had condoms and lubricants. He quickly shut it and pulled out the last drawer. Dozens of partially used medicine bottles stood in the drawer and he went through them, one by one.