Defensive Instinct (Survival Instinct Book 4) (49 page)

As a pain-filled darkness closed in over Nessie, she hoped he survived the fall long enough to feel himself get torn apart by the dead. As the young ones gathered around her, fearfully shouting at each other, not knowing what to do with their extremely limited medical knowledge, she thought of Dragon.
Would he miss me?

With Canary still hugged up to his side, Doyle continued to follow James in an arc around the Black Box fences. They rested a few times while James scurried off to get a look at the place, but each time he came back with bad news. Unfamiliar men and women were patrolling the fences, and a little while ago, black smoke began to rise from a body burn site. James couldn’t get close enough to see who was dead, but he confirmed that there weren’t many.

“Where are we goin’?” Rose finally asked in a whisper that Doyle thought sounded harsher than she meant.

“We need to check something,” James told them, continuing to lead them in a direction that Doyle had never been.

“Check what?” Rose was agitated. A couple of times a zombie appeared, and although James was closer, she insisted on being the one to crush its skull with her hammer.

“If our people are inside or out.”

“How will you be able to tell that?” Doyle asked this time.

“You’ll see, we’re almost there.”

James was right; it hadn’t been much longer. They reached the woods where clearly a bunch of people had been through recently, the foliage trampled flat.

“They evacuated,” James spoke through a sigh of relief.

“Why come this way?” Canary wondered. Her breathing had become harder as the day went on despite the frequent rest stops. Her leg pained her; she was supposed to be with doctors by now.

“Because the submarine is docked this way,” James told them.

Doyle, Canary, and Rose literally paused for a moment, letting James get an extra two steps ahead.

“What do you mean, the submarine?” Rose spoke louder than she should, a bit of anger now mixing with the irritation.

“We never scuttled the German U-boat. Not many know, only the crew and enough trusted others to send someone to check on it every couple of days and after storms. You probably didn’t see any of it, but there were a lot of arguments surrounding the sub. Should it stay at the Black Box, or go with the others to the container yard? Should they search for torpedoes and missiles to rearm it? Should it always be crewed and ready to go? Crichton got worried that someone was going to steal it; that’s how bad it got. So, he made a plan with Bronislav to make everyone think it sank. They went on a mission up the coast, as they had before, only this time they went when a storm was expected; the weather guys actually got it right. And when the crew came back on foot, no one suspected their story was a lie.”

“That’s insane,” Rose huffed.

“You wouldn’t think so if you heard how vehemently some people wanted to turn the thing into a weapons platform. Those houses we were exploring? They would probably be ash by now if they had gotten their way. And let’s not forget about the nuclear core. Could you imagine if someone snapped and then got into the sub? Think of how much damage they could do, even just by creating a leak in the casing.”

Rose responded with silence. Doyle didn’t know what she was thinking, but he was remembering the bomb on the Diana. No one had been able to prove beyond a doubt that the woman named Hanna had set it off, but even if she had, no one knew why. James was talking about someone like her when he talked about someone snapping. If it really was Hanna, and she had really been working alone as it seemed, that meant a single person had brought about the Diana’s eventual destruction. Crichton would certainly not risk a similar incident happening at the Black Box, which was why the power generator in the basement was always on lock down; only those who needed to get in there to monitor it were allowed through the heavy, metal door.

Deep in thought, Doyle didn’t notice the hole until he stumbled into it, Canary drawing in a sharp hiss as she was pulled along.

“Sorry,” Doyle whispered, and then repeated himself several times until Canary told him to stop.

“Looks like they dug up the cache. There’s probably going to be more of these holes along the way, so watch your step.” James continued to lead them deeper into the forest.

Doyle was tired and his shoulders hurt from helping Canary along. He could only imagine how she felt, hobbling through the woods. They were both sweating, but her skin had taken on a sickly look and texture that he didn’t like.

“How far is the sub?” Doyle asked.

“Still a ways off, why?” James glanced over his shoulder, his eyes falling on Canary and then he knew why.

Doyle answered anyway. “We should probably take another rest then.”

“No.” Canary shook her head, her yellow hair falling lankly about her face. “This trail isn’t all that old; I don’t think it’s been very long since they came through here. If we hurry, we’ll catch them.”

Both Doyle and James frowned at this.

“Why don’t James and I go ahead while you two take a break?” Rose suggested.

Canary shook her head again. “We should stick together; we don’t know what kind of dangers might be in these woods. I’m okay, we need to keep going.”

Even though no one but Canary seemed to like the idea, they pressed on.

It was shady and slightly breezy beneath the trees, which was nice compared to the direct sun, but the bugs were bad. Between Canary and his fire axe, Doyle didn’t have a hand with which to defend himself.

“I’m sorry,” Canary mumbled.

“For what?” Doyle wondered as he slowly batted another mosquito away with the head of his axe.

“Mosquitoes have always loved me. You wouldn’t be bothered by them so much if you weren’t helping me along.”

“Nonsense, we’re in the woods, there are always mosquitoes.” Although Doyle had to admit that there were more than when he had walked alone at the start of their outing. He blamed it on the storm awhile back; the bugs always got worse after the rain. They loved the damp ground.

“Zombie,” Rose whispered, trotting off ahead of them to take it down.

“When—” Canary didn’t get to finish whatever she was going to say.

“Jesus Christ!” Rose gave a startled cry.

James put on a burst of speed and leapt through the brush. Doyle wanted to run to Rose as well, but he and Canary couldn’t move any faster than they were already. Doyle hefted his axe up into a ready position, while Canary raised the copper pipe that had wounded her so badly.

It didn’t take long to discover what had startled Rose. There wasn’t just one zombie, but at least a dozen, hidden from their sight by a large rock and a couple of thick tree trunks. Rose and James were busily hacking away at them by the time Doyle and Canary got there. They stood back and watched, ready in case one got past or came from another direction. There was no need to worry, however, as James and Rose massacred the whole lot.

“Are you bit?” James asked Rose when the final corpse fell.

“No, they just startled the shit outta me is all.”

Still, James scanned her extremities and gave her the all clear. That didn’t mean she hadn’t gotten something in her mouth or eyes, and James as well for that matter, but there was no way to be certain if they said nothing. Wiping his blade off on some low bushes as he walked past, James moved them forward.

The walk was long, hot, buggy, and, mostly in Canary’s case, painful, but when they noticed the sounds of the sea growing louder, their spirits lifted. Even Canary managed to pick up the pace a little. They had taken only one break since entering the forest. In a clearing, they had found a good log over which the women could empty their bladders; James and Doyle used the bushes on the opposite side. Based on the smell, it was obvious that those who had left the Black Box used the log for the same purpose.

When the ocean finally came into view, they headed straight for it, stepping off the well-trodden path. Although no one said it, they all knew they had missed the group and likely the boat as well. Rose forged ahead, reaching the shore first to see if the submarine was still in view. They may have decided to wait awhile in case Doyle and his small group returned.

As Doyle and Canary cleared the trees, they could tell by Rose’s posture that the submarine was gone.

“It might be that speck way out there, but it’s far enough that I can’t tell.”

James used his binoculars and agreed with Rose’s assessment. It very likely was the U-boat, but there was no way they could let it know they were there, let alone get to it.

“Put me down. Put me down.” Canary sank to the pebble beach, sliding off Doyle’s shoulders.

“You might want to stand back up; there’s some dead over toward those buildings,” James told her, his eyes still hidden behind the binoculars but now he was scanning the shoreline. Doyle could make out the buildings, but not the dead.

“I need a rest. They’re far away and won’t notice us over here,” Canary panted.

“Might be good to wash that leg o’yours in the salt water,” Rose suggested.

“I know
I
could certainly use a soak.” Doyle was used to feeling gross when on the move and dealing with the dead, but he preferred being clean.

“Why don’t the three of you take a quick bath? I’m going to head toward the dock there, see if a note or something has been left for us.” James stripped out of his pack, keeping only his weapons with him.

“I should come with you,” Rose volunteered.

“I think it’s best you stay with Doyle and Canary in case something wanders over here. Besides, you stink,” he said, grinning. He then got up and disappeared back between the trees.

“Well I’m going in,” Canary said, breaking the brief silence, and started to peel off her shirt.

Doyle’s face turned red and Rose laughed at him.

“Look, he’s all embarrassed,” Rose teased. “Settle down, boy, underwear is no different than a bikini.”

“I find most underwear to be more modest than most bikinis,” Canary added, although she was simply stating it, not teasing Doyle. “Rose, mind helping me get these pants off?”

“It’s gonna hurt, you sure you don’t wanna leave them on?”

“No, they need to come off.”

“All right.”

Rose gently helped Canary while Doyle stripped down to his boxers. He waded into the shallows first, scanning for underwater threats, his axe in hand. The rocks were slippery, but easily gripped with his toes. After Rose had stripped down, she helped Canary into the water, their weapons sitting as close as possible without getting soaked. Outside of a hostile human with a gun, they had good enough sight lines to reach the items before a danger could reach them. Canary sat on the rocks where the water was just deep enough to slosh over her hips. She drew in a sharp hiss as her wound submerged.

“Watch out for sharks,” Doyle warned Rose as she went deeper. “Canary’s blood might draw them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said back, waving her stump at him.

It was nice to be able to talk above a whisper, the slapping waves covering them.

“The sea’s calm today,” Canary commented as Doyle waded shallower and sat down nearby, holding his axe draped across his shoulders, away from the water.

“That’s good for the submarine.” Doyle used one hand to scoop up water and rinse off his upper body, focusing mostly on his shoulder where he had been punctured by the nail.

Out where it was deeper, Rose dove beneath the surface.

“She should be careful of the undertow,” Canary commented when the other woman’s head popped back up.

“Try telling her that,” Doyle chuckled.

Rose didn’t stay in the deep for long, soon swimming over to them. She kept low in the water, using her hand and stump to pull herself along the rocks and looking like a strange, red-haired crocodile.

“Think there might be alligators around here?” Rose asked as she found a spot she liked, thinking along the same lines Doyle was.

“I doubt it.” Canary shook her head as she inspected the wrappings around her wound. “Alligators tend to stick to fresh water from my understanding. Now salt water crocodiles I’m less sure of; I can’t remember if there are any in the Americas or not.”

“Salt water crocodiles?” Doyle hadn’t heard of them.

“I liked watching the Discovery channel growing up. They’re the really big ones.”

“There might be alligators,” Rose continued. “They get weird when they get infected.”

“True,” Canary nodded this time. “I still don’t think there will be any here though. Don’t they usually crawl out on land and start walking around when they get infected? I’ve never heard of one being found in the salt water.”

“Sharks are what we have to worry about,” Doyle told Rose again.

“And zombies,” she added.

“Always zombies, and always people.”

Doyle got out of the water first, letting the sun dry him off before getting dressed again. He kept his eyes roving along the shore and tree lines, watching for both threats and James. He was relieved when James showed up first, but surprised that he wasn’t alone. The man with him carried a large pack and had a familiar face, definitely someone from around the Black Box, but Doyle didn’t personally know him.

“Doyle, I think you know Jamal?” James introduced them once they were close enough to talk comfortably.

“I’ve seen you around but I can’t say we ever really spoke. Hey,” Doyle held out his hand and shook the one offered back in return.

“Right, you weren’t at the prison,” James suddenly remembered. “Jamal was one of our ward heads, so most people would know him from there.”

“Were you one of the people at the…what was it? A hotel?”

“I think it was a motel,” James corrected.

“No, Canary and I,” Doyle gestured to Canary so the man would know who he was talking about, “are from a third party. We’re from Leighton though. We managed to overhear your guys’ transmissions and learned about the plane, so we made our own way there.”

“I didn’t know that,” James said, surprised.

“Were you with Robin?” Jamal asked.

“Yeah, she was with us.”

“Wonderful, I thought I recognized the story. I sometimes help out in the medical centre so I know her.”

“So that must mean you have some medical training. Canary got hurt; a piece of copper pipe went through her leg yesterday. Can you take a look?”

“Sure, although I’m not a doctor; I just have field medic training. I was left with some medical supplies in case you guys showed up wounded, although I didn’t think it would be so soon. Had you been maybe two hours earlier, you could’ve caught the sub.”

By then Rose had helped Canary out of the water. She was lowered gently to the rocks where Jamal could inspect her leg.

“So it’s as I guessed,” James told Doyle, loud enough for Rose and Canary to listen in if they wanted. “Some group showed up and managed to storm the Black Box. They somehow got into the vehicle elevator shaft and were able to attack from both ends. Crichton was captured, and after a while ordered an orange level evacuation to prevent anyone else from getting killed. Not many died, but some have. They were led here, where Bronislav and Crichton knew the sub would be waiting. Jamal was left behind to look for us and watch for anyone from the attacking force who might be following their trail.”

“Does he have a safe place for us to hide out while we make plans?” Doyle asked.

James shook his head. “He was up a tree. If he hadn’t started throwing small sticks at me, I never would have spotted him. With Canary’s leg, hiding up trees isn’t really an option for us.”

“So we should go look for a place.”

“I’ll come,” Rose immediately volunteered.

“You’re not even dressed yet,” James pointed out.

“I will be soon,” she retorted as she buttoned up her pants.

“I may end up needing an extra set of hands here,” Jamal told them.

“Hands, emphasis on the plural,” Rose immediately pointed out before James could use it as an argument against her, waving her stump for added effect. Doyle wondered why James seemed to be keeping Rose back more lately.

“Rose and I can find a place,” Doyle offered. “James, you already know the area somewhat, so it’s probably best you stay with Canary and Jamal in case you end up needing to run.”

“All right.” James sat down on the rocks without a word of argument. Doyle never could predict him.

“Grab some food first,” Jamal advised them. “In the front pocket of my bag there should be some dried fruit and grains. Not great, but it’s all they were able to leave me with.”

While Rose strapped on her homemade prosthetic, Doyle got the food. The stuff in the front pocket was neatly organized into little cloth and leather bags, as well as a few surviving Ziplocs. He grabbed a Ziploc for himself and a leather bag for Rose. He knew she could use the fasteners to tie the bag open on her hip and eat one handed.

“We’ll head away from the building, unless you think you might know a good area?” Doyle asked James.

“We didn’t explore much to either side, so I have no advice for you. Sorry.”

Leaving their gear behind and taking only their weapons, Doyle and Rose headed down the shore. The closer they could find a place to the water the better, just in case the sub came back for some reason.

“Well, this trip has certainly been a lot more than I bargained for,” Doyle commented to Rose as they walked.

“If you’re blamin’ yourself, stop it,” Rose told him unexpectedly. “No one coulda predicted half the stuff we ran into out here, let alone all of it together.”

“Yeah, but for books?”

“So? People like books, why not get a supply of them? Besides, both you and I know this was not entirely about the books. You just needed to get out beyond the fences again, like I did.”

Doyle had no argument for her.

“If it was your fault, then my arm is my own fault. No one blames me for that, not even myself anymore, so you gotta suck it up. Shit just happens, and sometimes it all happens at once. Stop the pity parties.”

“Are you deliberately trying to sound like a sergeant from some movie?” Doyle was smiling despite himself.

“Little bit, yeah,” Rose grinned at him. “Is it workin’?”

“Surprisingly so.”

They had walked on a little farther when Rose thought she spotted something through the trees. Doyle followed her into the brush, where they came across a long-dead tree lying across the forest floor. Following it to its crown of brittle branches, they discovered another tree that had partly fallen. This second tree hadn’t quite made it to the ground, as it had fallen against a hill at its backside. The torn-up root ball of the second tree tangled with the branches of the first. Doyle spotted bare rock beneath them both and thought there might be a sort of cave.

“Looks dry in there as far as I can tell,” Doyle commented. He couldn’t see much beneath the second tree, but it was on the start of the slope, so any water should run out down the rock. It must have been a very strong wind to knock the tree over in the direction it had.

“I’m goin’ in.” Rose crawled a little awkwardly with her prosthetic, and some of the old branches snapped loudly around her, but she got inside. “This is great.” Her voice was faint.

“Yeah? I can’t see you.”

“Then it’s perfect. We should be safe inside while we figure out what to do.” Rose scrambled out, snapping fewer branches this time. Those she had broken, she brought with her and piled up on top of the others. “It’s even bigger than it looks out here.”

“Let’s go get the others then.”

By the time they returned to where their friends were sitting, Jamal had done all he could for Canary’s leg, as well as looked at her hand. According to him, she should be all right if allowed to rest and keep off it, provided an infection didn’t set in; he had given her the mere antibiotics he had but washing it regularly with seawater should help. After gathering up all their gear, the five of them went back to the deadfall and crawled inside. Rose was right: it was bigger once inside, a hollow in the rocks forming a natural cave in the hillside beyond the roots. Jamal had been given one of the large tarps that formerly protected a cache from the elements, so they took it out in case they needed to protect themselves from the same thing.

“You look nervous,” Doyle told James.

“I don’t like having only one way out is all, and we probably won’t be able to hear if anything is moving around outside.”