Caldera Book 3: Return To Yellowstone Read online

  She settled in more comfortably and rested the stock against her shoulder as the bipod held the business end up and at the ready. She continued to scan the area when a familiar noise tickled at her ear. She pulled her eye from the reticle of the scope and tilted her head slightly.

  It can’t be. Can it?

  She reached for her radio but didn’t key it. Her finger poised just above the button. She continued to listen as the sound played along the edges of her ability to hear. It would fade in, then fade out, then fade back in again. It was almost as if the source were travelling back and forth, slowly moving closer.

  Candy stood up, knowing she was exposing herself to any Zulus in the area. She reached for her binoculars and scanned the sky. She thought she spotted something dark, but lost it as it moved behind the tall trees close to her. She lowered the field glasses and listened again. It was definitely getting closer.

  She picked up her radio and keyed it. “Wally, we got something out here.”

  After a moment, her radio came to life and Wally replied. “Zulus?”

  “Negative. I think there’s a chopper running a grid pattern out here.”

  “A what? Say again, Candy. It sounded like you said a chopper.” The radio gave a squeal of static then went silent.

  She keyed hers again and nodded, her other hand bringing the field glasses back to her face. “You heard correctly. There’s a chopper out here, and it’s running a grid pattern.” She lowered her radio and listened again. She lifted her radio and reported, “They’re announcing something, but I can’t make it out yet.”

  Candy clipped the radio to her belt and watched as the helicopter slowly worked its way closer. As it made another pass, she distinctly heard the announcement. “Mr. Daniel Hatcher, your assistance is needed by the government and the CDC. If you can hear this recording, please find a way to make contact with this mobile unit. We are monitoring citizens band channels 19 and 4, and are broadcasting at military frequencies at 250 and 350 Mhz.” After a short pause, the announcement started over again.

  Candy stepped back from the edge of the building and pulled her radio from her belt again. “Wally, they’re looking for Hatcher.”

  “Fat lot of good that will do them. He’s long gone.”

  Candy watched as the helicopter banked and began to swing back in her direction. “They don’t know that though.”

  “What are you going to do, Candy?” Wally asked nervously. “We don’t know who these people are.”

  “They know Hatcher is here. Well, that he was here.” She watched as the chopper slowly approached, its message growing louder than the chop of the blades. “I’m going to see if I can get their attention.”

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Candy.” Wally waited for her to reply, then keyed the radio again. “Candy?” He turned and looked to Vicky who only shrugged, her eyes wide. “Candy!”

  Chapter 5

  “How do I know you aren’t just hiding him?” The tall military man stared at Candy, doing his best to intimidate her. She shifted her rifle on her hip and smirked.

  “Why the hell would I have to hide Danny from the likes of you?” She cocked her head and gave him a sideways look. “You sure sound paranoid as hell for someone who’s just looking for the man.”

  “Experience has told me when someone is being searched for, they’re usually going out of their way to not be found.” Hollis did his best to sneer at her. He was getting the distinct impression this woman would not be pressured. “I just need to grab the man long enough to escort me and my team back through Yellowstone.”

  Candy snorted a laugh and shook her head at the man. “You’re so full of shit I can smell you from here.” She tapped her chest where her badge used to sit. “I was a cop long enough to know bullshit when I hear it, and my bullshit-o-meter just pegged out.”

  Hollis sighed and slumped his shoulders. “Look lady, I’m not bullshitting you. We were sent on this mission by the president of the United States himself. We know that Daniel Hatcher hailed from this area and assumed he’d return here when things got…bad.”

  “You mean when shit hit the fan, you figured he’d tuck tail and run home?”

  “No, not at all. We just assumed he’d want to check on his family…why are we even having this discussion? Just hand him over, please. I need to speak with him.”

  She cocked a brow. “And if he doesn’t want to talk to you?”

  Hollis blew out a breath and shrugged. “Could you at least tell him we have scientists who are this close to finding a cure to this thing? The virus has mutated, and they need the original strain in order to find a working vaccine.” His features softened and he averted his eyes. “The only chance we have of getting in and out of that place is Daniel Hatcher.”

  Candy read the man like a comic book. She knew he wasn’t lying. Once he dropped the false bravado and the intimidation techniques, she could tell he was being honest. Or, rather, there was at least a kernel of truth to his story.

  The rifle that leaned on her hip had been pointed slightly in their direction. She slowly swung it to the side and nodded. “Okay. I buy your story.”

  Hollis’ face brightened. “So, you’ll let us talk to him?”

  Candy shrugged. “I would, but he’s not here. He left with some people who showed up here and—”

  “Wait!” Hollis interrupted, his head swiveling to check the surrounding area. “He’s out there now? On foot?”

  “No, they took a truck. A big military truck.”

  “Son of a bitch!” Hollis made a motion with his hand and his team began loading up the helicopter again. “Which direction did they go?”

  “North. Toward Colorado. They’re headed to some CDC place…” Candy trailed off as Hollis spun on his heel and jogged back toward the helicopter.

  “Get us in the air! Now!” The chopper began spinning up the rotors as Hollis’ men loaded back inside.

  Candy shielded her face from the dirt and debris that washed up toward her from the rotating blades. She debated on trying to get close enough to finish telling him why they had left, but she shook it off. If they found Hatcher, he could tell them. If this guy was really trying to find a cure, he’ll definitely be interested in the woman Hatcher was escorting.

  Hatcher rolled the window down and hung his arm out. He continuously scanned the area ahead and to the sides as the truck pushed onward. Skeeter seemed to be clinging to Bren as the truck bounced along the highway. Hatcher tried not to notice the whispered talking between the two as he drove, but the tension was definitely building.

  “Something you want to discuss?”

  Skeeter turned to him and shook her head a little too quickly. “No, sir.”

  Hatcher continued driving, his mind in a hundred other places when Skeeter finally turned to him and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me the Free Zone was a lie?”

  Hatcher barely cast a glance her way before answering, “I thought you were old enough to know better.” He shrugged in a defeated manner. “I guess I didn’t realize how powerful hope was.”

  Skeeter was unreadable as Hatcher continued driving. She nearly jumped out of her skin when Jason began banging on the cab of the truck. She heard him yell something, but couldn’t make out what it was.

  Bren rolled down her window and Jason leaned toward the opening. “We got dust trails behind us. I think some of the folks from that ambush are following us.”

  Hatcher tried to study the side mirror and read the roadway behind them. “I can’t make it out.” He dug in the door panel of the truck and withdrew a pair of binoculars. He held them out the window for Jason. “See if you can tell how many.”

  Jason spun around and braced his back against the headache rack of the truck. He brought the binoculars up and stared behind them. He studied the dust trails for a moment, then handed the binoculars back to Hatcher. “I can make out two, possibly three in pursuit. Looks like they’re on motorcycles.”

  Hatcher rubbed at
his stubbled chin and continued driving, the gears of his mind spinning. “We could stop and engage them…,” he said more to himself than anything.

  “No!” Skeeter shook her head vehemently. “Please don’t, Hatch. I don’t trust—”

  “No worries, kiddo,” he interrupted. “I was just thinking out loud.” He stared out the tall side mirror again and could see the dust trails getting closer. “The other option is let them catch up, then use the truck to run them off the road.”

  “Can’t we outrun them?”

  Hatcher gave Skeeter a lopsided grin. “Not in this thing.”

  Bren was turned around and staring through the slats of the headache rack. “Is Jason safe out there?”

  Hatcher shrugged. “Safe enough. The only thing that can shoot this far is a rifle, and he can duck down inside the bed. I reckon it will slow a bullet about as much as this cab will.” He stole a glance to the back and saw Jason shoving gear toward the rear of the shallow bed, forming a protective wall between him and the pursuers.

  Jason laid down and propped his shotgun up on the duffles, using the bags to steady it.

  Hatcher smiled at the young man’s intuition. “Looks like he’s making ready to take them out before they can get too close.”

  A hollow ping echoed inside the cab and it took Hatcher a moment to realize they were being shot at. Fortunately, the distance was still a bit too far for the round to be effective. “And so it begins.”

  “Was that a bullet?” Skeeter ducked lower into the seat and clung to Bren’s leg.

  “I think so.” Hatcher banged on the side of the truck to get Jason’s attention. When the younger man slid up behind the cab, Hatcher handed out his carbine. “This has a longer reach than that shotgun.”

  Jason spun it around in his hands and studied the weapon. Hatcher yelled at him, “Do you know how to use it?”

  Jason cracked a sly grin. “Point the end the bullets come out of toward them, right?” He shot Hatcher a wink, then slid to the rear of the bed. He pushed the shotgun aside and laid the carbine across the duffles.

  Peering through the scope, he was able to bring the riders into focus. “Let’s give them a little something to sweat over.” He placed the crosshairs on the lead rider and squeezed the trigger. He forced his eyes to stay open to see if he could watch the rider swerve and fall, but the round fell short. He raised the crosshair and tried to compensate for the distance then squeezed the trigger again.

  The round still fell short, but this time, he managed to strike the motorcycle, causing the lead rider to almost lose his balance. He watched as the front of the bike began to wobble and the rider slowed.

  Jason raised the crosshairs even higher and squeezed off another round. This time the rider tumbled from the bike and become lost in the dust cloud raised by the others. Jason stood up on his knees and whooped. “I got one!”

  Another round pinged off the cab of the truck and Jason dropped back below the protective stack of equipment. He brought the carbine back up and peered through the scope. He set the crosshairs back on the new lead rider and raised the crosshairs to just above his head. Squeezing the trigger, he watched as that rider fell from his motorcycle, the bike tumbling as it hit the ditch.

  Jason felt his mouth go dry as he found the next rider in his crosshairs. The man looked evil and angry, and was obviously pushing the motorcycle at full throttle as he closed the gap between the two. Jason had difficulty keeping the crosshairs on him as the man swerved from one lane to the other. He saw the man pull a rifle from his back and lay it across his handlebars. Jason tried again to get the man in his crosshairs and saw the puff of smoke from the barrel just as a bullet whizzed by his head and echoed off the metal headache rack of the bed.

  He ducked and rolled to the other side of the makeshift barricade and lay the carbine across the top, doing his best to catch the rider in the crosshairs before he swerved to the other lane. He could see the rider raise his rifle and shoot one handed as he gunned the motorcycle once more.

  Jason ducked and felt the round impact the large duffle he was using as cover. “Son of a bitch!” he cursed as he popped back up and squeezed off two more rounds. He didn’t bother to aim and noticed that neither round was close.

  Jason ducked back low and heard yet another round ricochet off the side of the bed. “This guy is too squirrely!” he yelled toward the cab. “I can’t get a bead on him.”

  Hatcher let off the accelerator and Jason wanted to scream at him to go faster when an unfamiliar sound broke the air. Jason leaned up to see if the biker had miraculously closed the distance, but the sight he beheld left him speechless.

  The lead biker had turned around and was going back, a large military helicopter hovering between where he was and the truck. The chopper was turned toward the biker and Jason saw tufts of dirt and pavement erupt behind the biker as he ran full throttle. Apparently, whoever was in the chopper wanted to emphasize the Don’t come back essence of his Go away message.

  Jason came up to one knee and raised the carbine to his eye. He peered through the scope and could just make out the men in the cockpit of the chopper. It looked like military uniforms and he cautiously sighed with relief.

  He felt the truck come to a full stop and the driver door opened. Hatcher climbed to the back of the truck and reached for his carbine.

  “Who are they?”

  Hatcher shook his head. “No idea. But right now, I’m gonna go with the enemy of my enemy line of thought.”

  The helicopter closed the distance and slowly lowered to the ground just behind the truck, the wheels settling softly on the dry pavement. The blades slowed, but didn’t stop as the side door opened and men in desert camo stepped out.

  Hatcher’s eyes narrowed as they brought weapons to bear on the truck, and he felt his own hand tightening on the grip of the carbine. A tall man stepped out from the chopper and began walking across the cracked pavement toward the truck. He stopped just shy of the truck and placed his hands on his hips.

  “My name is Captain A. J. Hollis. I’m looking for Daniel Hatcher.”

  Hatcher cocked his head to the side and stared at the man. He couldn’t make out much past the dark sunglasses and Kevlar helmet, but the man had an air of authority about him. He lowered his carbine and stepped toward the back of the truck.

  “I’m Hatcher.” He jumped down from the truck and laid the carbine across his arms. “What can I do you for?”

  Captain Hollis smiled and stepped forward, his hand extended. “Mister Hatcher, you’re a difficult man to track down.”

  Hatcher studied the extended hand, and although warning bells were ringing through the back of his mind, he reached out and shook it. “You didn’t say why you were looking for me.”

  “That’s a long story in itself, Mister Hatcher.” Captain Hollis turned and waved toward the chopper. “If you’ll just come with me, I can explain en route.”

  Hatcher pulled back and shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere with you, captain.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder toward the truck. “We have a mission of our own, thank you.”

  Captain Hollis waivered for just a moment and Hatcher saw the two men holding the truck at gunpoint begin to step forward. Hollis raised a hand, stopping them, and Hatcher felt the need to bring his own weapon to bear.

  “Let’s not do anything we’ll regret later, Mister Hatcher.” Hollis held his hands up, placating the man.

  “I’ve got a passenger on this truck I have to get to the CDC in Colorado. She’s—”

  “There is no CDC in Colorado, Mister Hatcher. It was overrun early into this…thing.” Hollis pointed back to the chopper. “What’s left of the CDC is now offshore on naval vessels.”

  Hatcher felt the color drain from his face and he took a half-step back. “No more CDC?”

  “Not in Colorado. Actually, there’s no more working labs on the mainland.”

  Hatcher felt the wind knocked from his sails and he cast a furtive glance bac
k toward the truck. “But…the girl. She’s immune.”

  Hollis nodded. “Yes, sir. We’ve run into a small handful of people who are. Unfortunately, we haven’t found a way to make a vaccine from their immunity.”

  Hatcher’s legs went weak and he bent down, settling on one knee as he let the realization sink in. “So…no more CDC, no vaccine from the immune…what’s left?”

  Hollis smiled and Hatcher noted it was genuine. “We have a plan, sir, but we need your assistance.”

  Hatcher raised his eyes and squinted as the sun cast the man into silhouette. “What plan?”

  “If you’ll come with me, sir, I’ll explain.”

  Hatcher looked back toward the truck. “I can’t leave them here…they’d never survive.”

  Hollis nodded. “We’ll act as an escort if you want to take them back to the stronghold. But then we’ll need you to come with us.”

  Hatcher stared at the bullet hole ridden truck and shook his head. “If you can just give them a lift back…we can leave the truck.”

  Hollis stretched his hand out once more. “Of course, Mister Hatcher. If you’ll all come this way.”

  Simon kicked through the debris and chunks of meat that was once his men. He looked down the road toward the truck still sitting alone on the highway and stifled his frustrated scream. He grabbed the lone survivor who encountered the truck and pulled him close. “Tell me again how some preppy golf pro and a couple of kids got the better of you.”

  The dirty man trembled and shook his head. “T-they had a helicopter. One of them big military jobs with machine guns.”