Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12 (8 page)

“Can they be immune?”  I asked Rachel.

Long had returned, leaving Igor on the high ground to keep
watch over the surrounding area.  The three men were tied up and sitting
in the sand in front of one of their trucks.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head.  “Sure,
it’s possible, but I can’t see this many people, unrelated, all with immunity
to the virus.”

“No,” I agreed.  “I’m going to have a chat with them,
then we’ve got to get back on the road.  Clock’s ticking for our pilot.”

Everyone nodded as I turned to look at the frightened
prisoners.

“Separate them,” I said to Sam and Long.  “Each of you take
one of the kids.  Move them far enough away that they can’t hear my
conversation with tubby.”

They walked over, each grabbing an arm.  The younger men
protested, fearful they were about to be executed.

“What are you going to do?”  Rachel asked, staying me
with a hand on my arm.

“Going to ask some questions,” I said, looking into her
eyes.

She stared back at me for a few moments, then lowered her
hand.  I held her gaze for another beat, then walked to where the man was
sitting.  Slinging my rifle, I squatted down in the sand in front of him.

“Here’s the deal,” I said in a calm, reasonable voice. 
“We’re not a militia.  We’re the real deal.  US military.  And
you made a big fucking mistake trying to stop us.”

He bobbed his head up and down in agreement, the wattles of
fat under his chin jiggling with the motion.

“So, I’m going to ask you some questions, and you’re going
to answer me.  If you don’t answer, or I think you’re lying to me,” I
paused as I drew my Ka-Bar.  “I’m going to start carving off body parts
and feeding them to that dog over there.  Then, if you’re still not
telling me what I want to know, that’s OK.  He’ll have a taste for you,
and I’ll let him come over and take the parts he wants.  Tell me you
understand.”

I was looking at the knife blade as I spoke, twisting it
slowly in the air.  Turning it over and examining it before holding it up
above eye level to peer at the edge.

“Whatever you want, mister.  And I’m sorry.  We
didn’t know there was any military left.  Thought you was some outlaws or
something.”

“Hmmph,” I grumbled, gently pressing the point of the blade
into the sand and looking up to meet his eyes.

“How have you survived the virus and the infected?”  I
asked.

“We’re the militia.  We hid out until they left.”

He spoke in a rush, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

“Hid out?  Where?” 

“We was in bunkers.  Bunch of us been preparing for
years.  Then a couple weeks ago we started coming out.”

“400 of you?  That’s a lot of bunkers,” I said. 
“Lot of food and water to have been holed up for months.”

“Like I said, we been prepping for a long time.  The
General’s got this big property and we been getting ready.”

I kept my expression neutral, but the mention of someone
called,
The General
, worried me.  I’d already met
The Reverend
,
and I wasn’t in any hurry to meet any more nut cases.

“Tell me about the General,” I said. 

“She’s our leader.  Without her, we wouldn’t have
survived.”

“Her?”

I was surprised.  Not that a woman couldn’t be their
leader, but it sure wasn’t what I expected.

“Where’d she come from?”

“What?”

“Was she an Army General?  Maybe Marines or Air Force?”

“I think maybe Army.  She’s got a uniform and medals
and a couple of them pistols like Generals wear.”

“What pistols?”  I asked.

“You know.  Big ones.  .45s, I think.  With
pearl handles?”

“Like Patton?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, happy I’d figured it out.  “Just
like in the movie!”

Just fucking great.  This was all I needed.  Some
fuckwit in the middle of the Nevada desert who thought she was Patton.

“Now, tell me again,” I said without revealing my
thoughts.  “Why were you trying to stop us?”

The man hesitated, and I could see him trying to come up
with an answer.

“You’ve done good up until now, Mark,” I said, raising the
knife.  “You don’t want to start playing games at this point.  It
wouldn’t be fun for either of us.”

His eyes were once again glued to the blade as I slowly
waved it around in the air.

“We was out scouting,” he said, swallowing hard.  “Saw
you rolling into Crystal Springs.  Figured you’d have food and
water.  Maybe some medical supplies, and some…”

“Some, what?”

He didn’t want to answer.  Stared at the knife and swallowed
hard again.  When his eyes flicked to Rachel, I knew what he was going to
say.  Fortunately, she wasn’t paying close attention.  Otherwise,
she’d probably have shot all three of them on the spot.  I looked into his
eyes and nodded.

“I understand,” I said in a quiet voice.  “So, you saw
us in Crystal Springs.  Were you getting your instructions from that
broadcast?”

“What broadcast?”  He asked.

I narrowed my eyes and looked at him.

“The broadcast on the AM radio.  A woman telling
different units to check in.”

He was shaking his head before I finished speaking.

“I don’t know what you heard, mister, but it weren’t
us.  We got some walkie talkies, but no transmitter like you’re talking
‘bout.”

I glared at him for a few moments, satisfying myself he was
telling the truth.  Shit!  That meant there was another group out
there.

Standing, I took a look around, verifying that Long and Sam
were not only watching the prisoners but keeping an eye on our surroundings.

“Igor,” I said into the radio.

“Da?”

“Any movement?”

“Nyet.  Is quiet.”

I turned another circle, trading looks with Rachel, then
squatted back down in front of the man I was interrogating.

“Where’s this General?”

“I can’t tell you that,” he said nervously.  “You’re
military.  You know how it is.”

I stared hard at him for a moment.

“First, don’t ever compare yourself to me.  We’re not
the same.  Not even close.  Second, the rules haven’t changed. 
You answer my questions unless you want to start losing body parts.”

Holding the knife up, I turned it so the headlights glinted
off the blade.  He stared at it, transfixed.

“Angle City,” he finally said, looking down at his lap.

“Get the map out of the Hummer,” I said to Rachel.

A moment later she handed me the glossy atlas.  I
flipped pages until I found the one for Nevada and held it in the light so the
man could see.

“Show me,” I said.

His hands were tied behind his back, and all he could do was
tell me where to look.  It took a few moments, but I finally spotted
it.  Standing up, I moved next to Rachel.

“Middle of nowhere,” I said, staring at the map.

Angle City appeared only to be accessible by a primitive
forest service road.  It was at the base of a solitary mountain called
Mormon Peak and was about 40 miles across the empty desert from our current
location.  Far enough that I wasn’t too worried about more of the militia
suddenly appearing.

“Tell me about Vegas,” I said to the man.

“What about it?”

“Is it full of infected?  Are the roads passable?”

“That’s where you’re going?  Vegas?”

“Doesn’t matter where I’m going,” I growled.  “Answer
the fucking question.”

“The last squad we sent down there reported there was a lot
of infected still in the city.  Roads are clogged.  They had to walk
in.  Barely made it out.  Why you want to go to Vegas?”

I ignored the man and walked a few yards away into the
dark.  Rachel came to stand next to me, Dog remaining close to the
prisoner.  Calling Sam and Long, I had them bring their two guys back so
we could all talk.

“These guys are part of a prepper militia outfit,” I said
when we were all standing in a tight group.  “And they aren’t the same
ones that we heard on the radio.”

“How the hell are there survivors?”  Sam asked.

“Beats the hell out of me,” I said, shrugging my
shoulders.  “He says they were all in bunkers and only came back above
ground a couple of weeks ago.  Seems they were out scavenging for whatever
they could find.  Saw us and thought we’d be an easy target.”

“Dumb shits,” Long muttered.

“That’s not the worst.  Infected in Vegas, and the
roads are jammed.  We’re going to have to find a way around.  Probably
off-road, but I’m worried about the river crossings.”

“What river crossing?”  Rachel asked in surprise.

“The Colorado.  Hoover Dam is just south of
Vegas.  There’s a roadway on top of it, but I think it was permanently
barricaded after 9/11.  That leaves a bridge just downstream, but who
knows if it’s still standing.”

“What are our options if it’s out?”  Sam asked.

“Follow the river down into California and hope to find a
bridge that will get us into Arizona.  We could just follow the river all
the way to the sea in Mexico, but that will add several hundred miles.”

“What do we do with these guys?”  Long asked, gesturing
at the three men.

I turned to look at them.  Considered the options, not
the least of which was just putting a bullet in each of their heads. 

“Turn them loose,” Rachel said after watching my face for a
couple of seconds.  “Give them some water and send them on their way.”

“Might not be a good idea,” Sam said, looking intently at
me.

I knew what he was thinking.  Turn these guys loose and
they hook back up with their buddies.  Because of my questions, they knew
where we were headed.  It wasn’t hard to imagine a whole bunch of them
loading up and coming after us.  But, leave their corpses in the desert,
and even if they were found, no one would know for sure where we’d gone, or
even who had killed them.

“We don’t do this!”

Rachel stepped between me and the SEAL, glaring at both of
us.  After a long pause, I nodded.

“Disable all the vehicles, make sure they’ve got water and
cut them loose,” I said. 

Long and Sam looked at me for a beat, then turned away to do
as I’d ordered.

“And take their shoes,” I called after them.

“Their shoes?”  Rachel asked.

“They won’t be going anywhere very fast without them,” I
said.  “Not in the desert.  It’ll buy us some time to get out of the
area.”

It was pitch black in the desert as we resumed driving
south.  The moon was just a tiny crescent and didn’t provide enough light
to see your hand in front of your face.  We were running without any
lights showing.  Fortunately, the night vision goggles allowed us to
navigate the rough terrain without having to worry about driving into an unseen
canyon.

We had about 90 miles to cover before we reached Vegas, and
it was going to be slow going if we stayed off the lone highway that crossed
the desert.  I didn’t want to go back to the pavement where the likelihood
of being ambushed again was much higher, but was about to convince myself it
was necessary.  We were just moving too damn slow. 

Sure, the Hummers were tough and capable, but we were having
to keep our speed around 30 because of the rugged moonscape of southern Nevada. 
That meant three more hours just to get to Vegas.  At a minimum.  And
that was just too much time.

I had no idea what condition the pilot was in.  About
all I knew was that he was adrift in a tiny life raft.  Did he have
water?  Was he injured?  Would he survive the coming day, baking in
the sun on the surface of the sea?  We needed to get there as fast as we
could.  But then what? 

The SEAL was right.  It was going to be next to
impossible to find him somewhere in thousands of square miles.  It would
be like looking for a specific grain of sand on a beach.  If we didn’t
know where to look, the chances of us finding it were pretty damn slim.  I
shook my head as I made my decision.

“We’re getting back on the highway,” I said over the radio.

Neither Sam nor Long responded, but they stayed close behind
as I steered towards the narrow strip of asphalt.

“Why aren’t we staying off-road?”  Rachel asked.

“Moving too slow,” I said, grunting as we hit a depression
in the desert floor that momentarily sent the big vehicle airborne.

She nodded and braced herself as we bounced over a series of
rocks.  I had to slow to negotiate a deep drainage ditch, then we were back
on the marginally smoother asphalt.  Quickly I had us up to the vehicle’s
top speed, the needle bouncing somewhere between 60 and 65.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Rachel said after several quiet
miles.

“About what?”  I asked when she didn’t continue with her
thought.

“The virus and why these people aren’t infected.”

“Because they were in bunkers.  Protected. 
Right?”

“Maybe.  But remember the Canadians when we landed at
Offutt.  As soon as they were exposed, some of them started turning.”

“Ok…”

“I think it might be environmental.”

“I’m not following,” I said.

“Alright.  Remember how the Canadians were OK because
the virus couldn’t survive in the extreme cold?”

I nodded.

“Well, it gets pretty hot here, right?”

“Very,” I said.  “Maybe a little cooler than where I’m
from in Arizona, but it’ll still reach 110 in the summer.  You think
that’s it?  The virus can’t handle extreme temperatures?”

“It makes sense,” Rachel said, nodding slowly as she
thought.  “Besides, that’s normal for any virus.  They like a nice, temperate
environment.  In general.  I mean, just look at this place! 
When’s the last time it rained?  Weeks?  Months?”

“Maybe.  Probably,” I said.  “But, if that’s the
case, why are there infected in Vegas?  The attacks were in the
summer.  If it can’t survive the heat…”

“Humans can’t survive the heat, either.  That’s why we
have air conditioning and easily available water.  Our planes, cars,
trains… all of them are cooled and would make a perfect environment for the
virus.  Perhaps it was people that had been exposed but hadn’t turned yet,
maybe fleeing California, that brought it here. 

“It would be on their clothing.  Their personal
possessions.  Everything they touched or breathed on would become
contaminated.  If it was an object outside, in the sun, the virus probably
wouldn’t survive more than a few minutes at best.  After all, how hot do things
get in direct sunlight when it’s 110?”

“Door handles are hot enough to blister your fingers if
they’re in the sun,” I said.

“There’s probably no way the Chinese could have hardened the
virus to the point that it could survive that.  But, all it would take
would be one infected person to walk into a hotel or casino, or a convenience
store to buy a drink, and the environment suddenly becomes hospitable. 
That’s probably why there are infected here.”

I thought about what she was saying as I drove. 
Checked the mirrors to make sure Long and Sam were still back there. 
Returned my attention to the road ahead.

“So, this place was free of contagion, but now that winter
is coming, and the weather has cooled off, it’ll be back?”

“Not necessarily,” Rachel said, shaking her head.  “I
don’t know if the infected remain contagious.  Maybe, maybe not.  I’m
sure Dr. Kanger could tell us, but that’s not something that ever came up when
I was around.”

“How does this help us?”  I asked after several more
miles of quiet.

Rachel shook her head, biting her lower lip in thought.

“I don’t know that it does,” she finally said.  “It’s
just a puzzle that I was trying to work out in my head.”

We lapsed into silence at that point.  Only the hum of
the tires on pavement and the constant rumble of Dog’s snoring from the back
seat broke the quiet.

“Major.”

I was startled when Lieutenant Sam’s voice came over my
earpiece.  Rachel noticed me jump slightly, and grinned. 

“Go,” I answered, ignoring her.

“How close are we going to be to Nellis when we pass through
Vegas?”

He was referring to Nellis Air Force Base.  I knew it
was near the city but had no idea where it was located.

“No clue,” I said.  “What are you thinking?”

“That we could use some heavier weapons.  How about a
quick stop to raid the armory?”

I thought about that for a moment, liking the idea. 
But, would we be able to get to the base?

“Check the map,” I said to Rachel after telling Sam to
standby.  “You’re looking for Nellis Air Force Base.  It’s somewhere
near Vegas, but I’ve got no idea where.”

Rachel dug around on the floor, lifting the road atlas into
her lap a few moments later.

“Check around for a red-lensed flashlight,” I said, stopping
her from turning on a small light that would have washed out my night vision
goggles.

She rummaged some more but didn’t find one. 

“What do you want me to do?”  She asked after searching
the interior of the vehicle.

“Hang on,” I said to her, then activated the radio. 
“Anyone got a red lens?”

It turned out that Igor had some red cellophane in his pack
for this exact purpose.  With a sigh at having to lose more time, I called
a halt and braked to a stop in the middle of the road.  I hated losing
even a minute but wasn’t about to turn on the vehicle’s lights so I could see
while Rachel read the map.  That would be as good as sending up a flare
for any of the groups in the area that might want to intercept us.

We’d only been stopped for a couple of seconds when Igor
appeared at Rachel’s door and handed her a sheet of the stuff before running
back to his vehicle.  Rachel wrapped the noisy plastic around the lens of
her flashlight, commanding Dog’s immediate interest and undivided
attention.  It crackled like the kind of plastic used to wrap food, and it
took him an extended session of thoroughly sniffing every object in Rachel’s
lap to satisfy himself he wasn’t missing out on a treat.

“Found it,” Rachel said almost a minute later.  “Looks
like it’s just south of I-15 as we come into the north part of town.”

“We can get there without having to go through the
city?”  I asked, confirming what I’d hoped I was hearing.

“Yes.  The highway we’re on connects to the 15, then
it’s maybe about 10 miles or so to the base.”

I nodded and relayed the information to the other vehicles,
accelerating away immediately.  Quickly, Long and Sam were back on my
ass.  Ok, so it didn’t take
that
much time. 

If there was a large contingent of infected when we got
there, I wasn’t going to stop.  We didn’t have time to fight our way in
and out.  But if it looked clear, and we could make a quick run onto the
base and secure some heavier weapons, it was worth the time.