Recovery: V Plague Book 8 (26 page)

BOOK: Recovery: V Plague Book 8
13Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
49

 

Rushing out
of the building I was half way to the car before I realized I’d forgotten why
I’d gone inside.  Reversing course, I dashed back in and grabbed several
bottles off the shelf.  I wasn’t worried about noise discipline, just wanted to
get the hell out of there.

“What’s
wrong?”  Katie asked, aiming her rifle at the door I’d burst out of.

“Let’s get
out of here first,” I said, slipping and sliding on the slush covered cement.

I was still
shaking and didn’t have a funnel so I probably spilled about as much
transmission fluid as I managed to pour into the Dodge.  But I still got the
level back to full, slammed the hood and tossed the extra bottles into the back
seat.  Dog and Katie piled in and I took off with a lot of tire spinning on the
slick surface.

“Easy,”
Katie said.

I took some
deep breaths and backed off the accelerator.  Snow was thick in the lights but
I still pushed our speed up to 80.  We were all but out of time and safety was
going to have to take a vacation.

“What?” 
Katie asked, concern clear in her voice as she placed a hand on my arm.

I took
another breath and told her about what had happened.  Talking about it calmed
me, or maybe it was just because the truck stop with the dead girl was now
several miles behind us.  We began to drop down out of the mountains and the
snow stopped as quickly as it had started. 

The pavement
cleared and I pushed our speed up, roaring through a long curve and onto a
level, straight stretch of road.  I stepped on the throttle and was glad to see
the hesitancy I’d noticed in the car’s performance was gone.  We were quickly
up to 140 but I thought I could hear a faint whine from beneath the floor.

“She was
crying?”  Katie asked, shocked.

“Just like a
normal girl,” I said.  “I don’t know if she was really crying or it’s a new
ploy.  Regardless, it sucked me right in and damn near got me killed.”

“Next time
you’re taking Dog with you,” she said, rubbing my arm.

Hearing his
name, Dog stuck his head into the front and used his nose to pry Katie’s hand
off my arm and onto his muzzle.  With a smile she began petting him as he
pressed as far forward as he could.

“I’m tired,”
I said after a few quiet miles.

“Want me to
drive?”

“Not what I
meant,” I said.  “I mean I’m tired of running and fighting.  I’m fucking
exhausted.  Lucas’ offer is sounding better by the minute.”

“Not the
Bahamas?”  Katie asked.

“The
fighting will never stop for them,” I said.  “There’s always going to have to
be raids into CONUS for supplies of some sort.  Food, medicine, fuel, vehicle
parts; always something.  You know me.  I won’t be able to sit on my ass while
others are getting on a plane.  I’ll be right in the thick of it and I don’t
want to be.  Not anymore.”

“OK, so how
do we get to Australia?” 

“I haven’t
figured that one out.  Yet.  But I’m going to start working on it.  Maybe get
Rachel and head for the coast and find a boat.”

“Not that
that’s a bad idea, but does Rachel know how to handle a boat and navigate half way
around the globe?  I sure don’t, and the last time I checked you weren’t in the
Navy, so…”

“I didn’t
say it was a good idea,” I grinned sheepishly.

The roads
stayed clear and straight and I was able to keep our speed up.  As I drove I
turned over half a dozen different ideas, finally settling on calling Admiral
Packard and begging for transit on a Navy ship.  That probably wasn’t the best
idea, either, and I knew I’d have to come up with something better.  I didn’t
see the Admiral, or Colonel Crawford for that matter, agreeing to let me sail
off into the sunset.

“Babies,”
Katie said after another long stretch of silence.

“What?”

“That’s what
we’re going to do when we get there,” she said.  “Have babies.”

“Babies?  Plural? 
How many?”  I asked.

“How many times
do you think you can knock me up?”  Katie laughed.

“In this
world?”  I asked, still not convinced.

“Yes,” she
said firmly.  “If people had stopped having babies every time things were bad
in the world there probably wouldn’t be a human race.  What we need now are
babies.  It’s a big world and there’s not a lot of people left.”

“I’ll be a
shitty dad,” I said.

“Really? 
Why?”  She wasn’t going to take no for an answer.  “Afraid you can’t teach them
to shoot and fight?”

I didn’t
have a good answer to that.

“And,” she
turned and ruffled Dog’s ears with both hands.  “There’s got to be a female
German Shepherd left somewhere in the world we can hook up with the big boy
here.  We need lots of Dogs, too.”

50

 

The weather
held off and we quickly covered the distance to Twin Falls.  Katie dialed
Jessica as we were reaching the edge of town and she talked us in to the Jeep
dealer.  It was a surprisingly big place for a town no larger than the one it
was located in, but I wasn’t complaining.  We passed a couple of males
stumbling around when we exited the freeway, but fortunately didn’t see any
females.

The edge of
the lot that faced the street we arrived on was parked full of new vehicles. 
They were dirtier than I’d ever seen on a dealer lot, but then there hadn’t
been anyone to wash them for some time.  Swinging in to the entrance the
headlights swept across the large, glass walled showroom and I saw two males
and a female pressed against the windows.

The female watched
us intently as we turned in.  Before parking I circled the large area, driving
around behind the service department and body shop before coming back to park
in front of the showroom.  No other infected in the immediate area.

“How long?” 
I asked Katie, referring to the ETA for the leading edge of the herd.

“Less than
an hour,” she said without having to check her figures.  “We’re OK if we don’t
get hung up haggling with a salesman.”

“That won’t
be a problem,” I grinned, holding up my rifle.

We stepped
out and I headed straight for the row of Jeep Wranglers.  Like many dealers
these days, this one had taken a few of the new vehicles and added on a lot of
aftermarket parts that they then marked up about two hundred percent.  There was
a pair of four door Wranglers that had been lifted and outfitted for serious
off-road travel, to include a rack on the back that held spare fuel and water
jugs.

Noting the
inventory code on each so I could more easily find the keys, I hoped, we headed
for the showroom.  The infected stood there watching us through the glass as we
approached.  Well, the female was watching us, but the males had probably heard
the sound of the Dodge.  They pounded on the thick glass but she just stood
there and tracked us with her eyes.

“I’m not in
the mood to play around,” I said, opening the Charger’s trunk.

Lifting the
grenade launcher I loaded a high explosive round into the first chamber. 
Turning I aimed at the glass and pulled the trigger.  The HE grenade blew out
the large panel and two on either side of it, a shower of shattered safety
glass raining down all around us.  Dog shook to clear the glittering chunks out
of his fur.

The two
males had been standing directly in front of the point of detonation and both
had been killed instantly.  Standing a few yards to the side, the female had
been injured but was still on her feet, limping towards us.  Katie put her down
with a head shot from her rifle.

“Get it out
of your system?  Feel better?”  She asked.

I nodded,
smiling and heading for the showroom.  High explosives do have a way of helping
one exorcise his demons.  Katie put Dog in the car so he didn’t walk on the
glass and cut his feet then ran to catch up with me.

It took some
searching but we found both sets of keys hanging on a pegboard in the sales
manager’s office.  Back in the lot we let Dog out and checked over the two
Jeeps.  Other than color I couldn’t tell any difference between them.  Each was
lifted several inches and tall mud tires had been installed.  The deciding
factor was when I walked around and saw the winch mounted on the red one’s
front bumper. 

Where we
were going there were decent odds we’d need it.  Climbing behind the wheel I
started it up and pulled over next to the Charger.  It took a few minutes to
transfer all of our supplies, weapons and spare ammo, but soon we were ready to
go.  Dog seemed to like the elevated back seat, sitting tall and staring out
the large windshield.

Driving off
the lot I went less than a block before pulling in to a gas station.  Katie
shot three males that had been attracted by the sound of our engine while I
topped off the Jeep’s tank and filled the two, five-gallon jugs mounted to the
back.  Fueling complete we headed out, Katie reading directions that Jessica
had texted to the sat phone.

We quickly
left Twin Falls behind, heading north on State Highway 75.  The Jeep drove much
like my truck and I drove as fast as I was comfortable pushing the vehicle. 
Other than being top heavy, the mud tires were only rated for a max speed of 90
miles per hour.  Even though they were brand new I didn’t feel like tempting
fate and having a tire suddenly come apart, so I stayed under 95.

After the
Charger’s high performance Hemi, the Jeep felt absolutely asthmatic.  The
six-cylinder engine made a lot of noise when I stepped on the gas, but all that
sound didn’t translate into much power.  Kind of like the guy at the bar that
can’t shut up about how big or tough he is.  Until someone who really is tough comes
along.

We had to
cover just over 100 miles, the highway winding up into the Sawtooth Wilderness where
we would then take a Forest Service road that would probably be nothing more
than a rough dirt track cut into the ground.  From there I was going to have to
depend on Jessica to talk us in to where she was watching either Rachel or the pilot
on thermal.

It was pitch
black, apparently a thick overcast blocking the moon.  The Jeep was outfitted
with a long LED light bar and it lit the road for at least two hundred yards to
our front.  The terrain began climbing only a few miles north of Twin Falls and
soon we were back in the snow.  Only a few flakes at first, but steadily
growing in intensity as we gained altitude.

The pavement
changed from dry to slushy to snow covered in just a few miles and I was forced
to reduce speed.  The big tires were providing good traction, but even I wasn’t
crazy enough to drive over 90 miles per hour on a snow covered mountain road. 
We pushed on, Katie adjusting the heater as the outside temperature continued
to drop.

“You’re
quiet,” I said after twenty miles of silence from her.

“I’m worried
about what kind of shape Rachel will be in when we find her,” she said,
pointing at the thermometer display.  It said it was 27 degrees outside.

“You sound
confident it will be Rachel and not the pilot that survived.”

“I have to
be,” Katie said.  “I wouldn’t leave the pilot out there, but we haven’t busted
ass to get here for him.  This can’t have all been for nothing.  Well, not that
he’s nothing, but…”

“I get what
you’re saying,” I said, letting her off the hook she’d stuck herself on.  “I’m
just not letting myself think about it.”

“So, is that
Air Force Sergeant single?  The one with the cast on his arm?”  She changed the
subject.

“Scott?  I
have no idea.  Why?” 

“I was
thinking Rachel needs someone,” Katie said.  “Babies, remember?”

“Jesus,” I
said.  “Didn’t you learn your lesson about matchmaking with the mess you made
last year?  You set a lesbian up with a man!”

“How was I
supposed to know Kendra was gay?”  She asked, innocently.

“Maybe
because we never saw her with a man?  Maybe her propositioning you every time
she had too much to drink?  Maybe her kissing you at the Christmas party when
you both got really drunk?  But you were CIA.  I can see how little clues like
that could slip past you.”  I smiled, but got punched anyway.

“At least I
made up for it.  She’s really happy with Trisha…” her voice fell.  “I guess
they’re probably not very happy anymore, are they?  If they’re still alive.”

I reached
across and took her hand in mine as a tear rolled down her cheek.

51

 

The farther
we pushed north on the small highway the more we climbed.  With altitude came
colder weather and more snow.  We passed through Ketchum, a tiny town with a
large ski resort, at 0600.  There was just a hint of light on the eastern
horizon but still not enough to see anything that wasn’t in range of the Jeep’s
lights.

I couldn’t
see them but I suspected there were some large ski chalets built into the
slopes that overlooked the town.  I’m not a skier, so didn’t pay attention to
the “destination” ski towns, but for some reason I seemed to remember that
Ketchum was an up and coming place.  Not that this mattered to us now, though
we were going to need to hole up and rest for a while once we found Rachel.

A small
group of females began pursuing us in town.  The snow was nearly a foot deep on
the road and they could barely move faster than a swift walk.  I had shifted
into four-wheel drive some time ago and the Jeep churned along without any
difficulty.

The road
grew steeper as we continued on, narrowing as it clung to the side of a
mountain.  I didn’t see how two vehicles would have ever met and passed each
other, even without the snow making for difficult driving.  The highway
continued until it was no more than a narrow track and I wasn’t sure there was
pavement under the snow.  We kept passing small signs with three digit numbers
on them and I realized these were other Forest Roads cut into the mountains by
the Forest Service.

“Call
Jessica,” I said to Katie, who had already paired the satellite phone with the
Jeep.  “I want to make sure we aren’t driving right past a road that we need to
take.”

“Hi, sir. 
I’ve got you on thermal,” Jessica said as soon as she picked up.

“Good.  I’ve
been passing a lot of Forest Roads and wanted to make sure I’m on the right
track.”

“Keep
going.  Within a mile you’re going to reach a whole bunch of switchbacks.  They
will take you over a mountain and when you come out of those, cross the valley
and climb the next mountain.  At the top, turn left onto Road 205.  Sixteen
point three miles after that you stop. 

“You’ll be
on the north side of a ridge.  You’re on foot from there.  Up and over the
ridge, then four miles straight down to the lake.  If you go due south from
where you stop, you’ll find the target on the lakeshore.”

“How can you
see all this with the cloud cover?”  I asked, checking to make sure Katie had
written it all down.

“Naval
Intelligence has just about every digital map ever made of every place on the
planet.  I overlaid a Forest Service map on top of the real time image.”  She
said, sounding satisfied with herself.

“Good
thinking,” I said.  “What’s the status of the target?”

“Still
stationary, sir.  The fire is burning hot enough for me to clearly see on
thermal and the target fades in and out depending on the density and moisture
content of the overcast, but no change.  By the way, you’re easy to spot
because of your vehicle’s engine heat.  I may lose you when you start walking.”

“Any update
on the Bradley?”

“Negative,
sir.  I’m still working on the archive and my CO brought in some help.  I’ll
let you know as soon as I can determine anything.”  She said.

I thanked
her and ended the call.  Just as she’d said, we entered a long series of
switchbacks soon after I finished speaking with her.  The road was steep and
narrow, the snow deep and the curves were hairpin sharp.  The Jeep negotiated
all of them with only a couple of butt clenching moments when the tires slipped
on a particularly steep grade.

“Should we
be worried about avalanches?”  Katie leaned into me and looked out my side
window at the side of the steep mountain we were climbing.

“You can
worry, but there’s not a damn thing we can do about it.”

She nodded
and settled back into her seat, but every few minutes I noticed her casting a
look to our left.  It was slowly getting lighter and we began to see details of
the area beyond the reach of the light bar.  Snow was still falling but not as
heavy.  The terrain was breathtakingly rugged and beautiful, especially with a
pristine blanket of white covering everything.

The going
was slow and especially tedious when we dropped down into the next valley. 
Four wheel drives are great for giving you enough traction to go, however they
don’t slow or stop one bit better than any other vehicle on the planet.  You’re
still at the mercy of the ability of your tires to grip the driving surface
when you apply the brakes.

White
knuckling the ride down, I breathed a sigh of relief when we began climbing
again.  The farther back into the wilderness we went, the deeper the snow
became.  Looking out the side window I watched as the Jeep’s running boards
passed over the surface with no more than a couple of inches to spare.  If we
hadn’t taken a lifted four-wheel drive, the front bumper would be below the
level of the snow and we wouldn’t be going anywhere.  As it was, if it got much
deeper we were going to have a problem.  

I pushed on,
climbing up out of the valley and at the top of the next mountain was Forest
Road 205, exactly where Jessica had said it would be.  I made the turn and
drove into a canyon of tall pine trees that pressed in on each side.

“Sixteen
point three.  Set your trip odometer,” Katie reminded me.

I pushed the
button to zero out the counter, grinning a thank you at her.  I was glad one of
us remembered.

“Don’t
suppose you grabbed snow shoes when we were in the store,” I said.

“Not snow
shoes, but they had these things that are made of plastic and look like someone
spilled a bucket of paint that congealed after spreading out.  They strap onto
your boots for walking in snow.  They’re made for skiers going short distances and
I didn’t have time to look for snow shoes.”

“At least
we’ve got those,” I said.  “Walking in that is going to be a bitch.”

“It’s not
near as bad under the trees,” Katie pointed. 

I looked and
she was right.  There was enough light now for me to see a short distance into
the forest and I was surprised how much less snow was on the ground there
compared to the road.  Looking up, I saw the reason.  All of the branches were
heavily loaded, having collected much of the snow that fell.

The road was
rough and I had difficulty maintaining even ten miles per hour.  The snow
concealed rocks, ruts, holes, tree stumps and God knows what else.  It seemed I
managed to find every single one of them.  I wanted to push faster but I knew
from a lot of off-road experience that going fast only breaks vehicles. 

Finally the
trip odometer rolled over to 16 as we were climbing a steep slope.  The trees
were just as thick, perhaps even thicker.  The ground under them looked to have
about a foot of snow, but it could have been less.  Trying to guess from a
moving vehicle is about impossible.

At 16.3 on
the display I came to a stop and looked to the south.  The ground swept up,
away from the road.  That would be the way to the ridgeline Jessica had told us
about.  It was too far away to see, but I had no doubt it was there.

Katie had
pulled on a parka at the truck stop, but other than that neither of us had put
on any of the winter gear.  Shutting down the engine I stepped out, sinking to
my knees in the snow.  I pulled the back door open and Dog jumped down, most of
him disappearing.  Only the top of his head, back and tail were visible.

“Land
shark,” Katie said, looking at him from the back of the Jeep.

Chuckling, I
fought my way to the rear hatch.  Katie had crawled over the seats, staying
inside.  I dumped the large bags and she helped me sort out the gear.  Happy
with what I was finding I was momentarily confused when there were obviously
three sets of winter clothing.

“Rachel’s
going to need them,” she said, reading the expression on my face.

I gave her a
smile and began removing weapons from my body so I could change.  In hindsight
we should have done this somewhere that was a little more comfortable than knee
deep in snow in the midst of a forest, but I’d been in a hurry.

Ten minutes
later both of us had stripped, donned the synthetic long underwear and layered
moisture wicking clothing over it before covering everything with white
snowsuits.  While we changed, Dog had made his way to the trees, breaking free
from the snow.  He ran around, bounding from one clear patch to another,
sniffing and peeing on every tree he came to.  Where the hell he stored that
much urine was beyond me.

Dressed, I
rearmed myself, pulling the vest on over the snowsuit.  Filling it with loaded
magazines I strapped the thigh holster back in place, fighting with the
adjustment to compensate for the thick clothing.  Next I brought out an extra
rifle and slung it down the middle of my back, wrapping the bandolier of
grenades over it.

My own
rifle, then the grenade launcher and I was ready.  I checked Katie over
quickly.  She had her rifle, a good supply of loaded mags and a full pack on
her back.  She carried our food, water and the cold weather gear she’d brought
for Rachel.

Before we
set out I used my Ka-Bar to slice the fingertips off my right glove, then did
the same for Katie.  It’s difficult at best to operate and fire a weapon while
wearing winter gloves.  Pulling mine on, I flexed my hand and gripped the rifle
then drew the pistol to check.  All felt good.

The
substitutes for snowshoes that Katie had found were called Glops.  They were
made of heavy, purple plastic about an inch thick and oval.  Maybe fifteen or
sixteen inches on the long side, the top had an impression for boot soles to
fit in, a row of clamps ringing it that would snap onto the edge of the boot
and secure the device in place.  The bottom was a series of rough, irregular
ridges designed to give traction in the snow.

Getting mine
attached, I took a few tentative steps on the deeper snow of the road.  They
sank in a few inches and though not as good as real snowshoes, were a huge
improvement over just my boots.  Katie, way more than a hundred pounds lighter
than me, was able to walk on the surface of the snow like some kind of fantasy
forest creature.  She looked up at me and smiled.

“Let’s go
get her,” she said.

Other books

The Apocalypse Reader by Justin Taylor (Editor)
The Bastard King by Dan Chernenko
The Misty Harbour by Georges Simenon
Back From Hell by Shiloh Walker
Capitol Offense by William Bernhardt
Steele by Sherri L King
Dawning of Light by Tami Lund
The Unexpected Everything by Morgan Matson