Omega Pathogen: Despair (19 page)

Royce jumped in the cab he, Kathy, and had been working on and started up the engine. He jammed it into gear, spun the tires as he sped backward and slammed into the King Pin so hard the trailer slid back several feet.

Rob ran over and hooked up the air system and then headed to the tractor-trailer he would drive.

The infected started coming in waves, their numbers increasing as each wave was shot down.

“Everyone load up, now!” Jim yelled over the radio. He scanned the lot and watched as each made their way to the cab of a semi.

Relieved to see Kathy and Chris get in safely, Jim ran to the MRAP and used the rapid firing M249 machine gun to try and thin out the infected.

The runners trampled the slower infected. Some stayed down and kept crawling forward. Others got back up to be knocked down again. Never did they just stop. They all wanted a bite.

Once he had received a call from the others in the group, Jim hopped down from the turret and got the MRAP moving toward their exit. He glanced at his watch quickly, 4:00 PM.
It’s only gonna get worse
, he thought.

The group had talked about it before, avoid going too fast, if they hit a large group of infected it could easily cause loss of control even in the heavy vehicle. Even hitting just one at high speed could cause problems. One of the last things anyone wanted was to crash and be stuck in the cab, surrounded by infected.

As they made their way to the base’s gates, Jim called over the radio and asked for another head count starting from the first vehicle behind his. Rob called out first. Kathy was next, followed by Rick and then Royce. Chris called in from the fifth semi out of the six they should have. Jim tried to remember the other man’s name that had come with them but before he could Rick called for Steve over the radio. Chris called in and said that he could see Steve’s semi behind his. After the third call from Rick, Steve finally responded that he was okay.

Steve tried to watch the road ahead, avoid the infected that darted out between the front of his truck and the back of Chris’ in front of him. It was a difficult task to do with one hand and only partially using his right leg while he tried to determine the source of the pain that burned through his right calf.

He didn’t see the infected bite him. He didn’t recall feeling it as he scrambled to get in the semi. He had felt several hands grabbing at his legs and at his back but he was sure he had gotten in okay. He had turned and kicked the closest two infected away and slammed the door.

When he was in the CCTV shop, he felt that bite and the old guy didn’t even have teeth. No, he couldn’t have been bitten. Steve reached down with his left hand and pulled up his pant leg again. He felt his leg, it felt wet but that was probably just from the rain. He was pretty much wet all over from the rain shower that had started. He could hardly feel any pain now. That had to be a good thing.

Steve pulled his hand away and moved it closer to the light from the dashboard. There it was. The blood. It wasn’t a lot of blood. Maybe he had scratched it on something when he got in the cab. It couldn’t have been a bite. He didn’t feel the teeth enter his flesh.

The road cleared as they continued. They had made their way through another small town called Bronson and had about twenty miles before they would be at the farm. After getting away from the base, they made better time than most of them had thought.

Chris fumbled around as he reached for his CamelBak tube for some water when he felt the impact of Steve’s semi ram into his trailer, causing his rig to jolt forward. Chris let go of the water tube and grabbed the wheel with both hands to maintain control.

“Steve, what the hell are you doing?” Chris called over the radio. In the side mirrors Chris could see the headlights of Steve’s truck swerving back and forth. Chris called for Steve on the radio again but like before received no reply.

“What’s wrong, Chris?” Jim asked.

“Not sure. Steve must be having some problems. He’s all over the road,” Chris answered. As he finished speaking, Steve’s semi veered to the left and began to overtake Chris’. It kept swerving and careened off of Chris’ trailer three times as it sped by him.

“Everybody watch out. Steve’s truck is out of control,” Chris called over the radio.

Rick watched the truck approach his. It angled into the median. The truck veered back to the right again then back to the left into the grass median strip. Dirt and grass and weeds were uprooted and thrown up by the tractor-trailer as it barreled through the median, jackknifed and flipped onto its driver's side.

All the remaining trucks slammed on their brakes and came to a halt past the wrecked truck.

Rick was the closest and he jumped from his cab and ran to check on Steve.

Jim was ahead of the group and turned the MRAP left, crossed into the other lanes and headed back to the wreckage.

Rick reached Steve’s truck and climbed up onto the passenger side door that now faced up.

Jim saw Rick make his way to the truck. He called over the radio and told everyone to stay in their trucks and watch for infected while he and Rick checked on Steve. As Jim drove closer, he watched Rick climb up on the cab and struggle to get the door open.

Jim came to a stop beside the jackknifed truck and was getting out of the MRAP when Rick bent down into the cab of Steve’s truck. With the light from the MRAP’s headlights, Jim could see Steve through the windshield as he lunged at Rick.

Rick heard the deep wet growl at the same time that he felt Steve embrace him in a hug, followed immediately by the pain of Steve’s teeth puncturing his right cheek. He pushed Steve away and back down into the cab. As Steve fell backwards he came away with nearly all of Rick’s right cheek and part of his bottom lip in his mouth.

Jim tried to keep an eye out for approaching infected as he made his way to Rick and Steve. Rick continued to kick Steve to keep him away and prevented him from climbing back up and out of the cab. At the same time Rick struggled to get his pistol un-holstered while he tried to keep his balance so he didn’t fall into or off the cab.

As he closed in, Jim saw room for a shot and took four. He fired through the windshield and Steve collapsed. His legs twitched for a second and then he was still.

“Dad, we have some infected heading toward us from the north and east,” Chris called over the radio. “Do you need help?” Chris asked.

“We don’t need anyone else here. If they get close, kill ‘em. If there’s too many everyone head toward the farm,” Jim replied as he reached Rick.

Rick jumped from the cab, stumbled and fell to his knees. He held his face to try and slow his bleeding and then took his hand away. “What’s the use? Huh, Jim?” Rick asked.

Jim let his rifle hang by the sling and opened a large multi-trauma dressing and handed it to Rick.

Rick shrugged, “That’s not going to do much for me, Jim,” Rick said but took the dressing anyway.

“What do you want to do, Rick?” Jim asked.

Rick leaned back on the grill of the truck and shook his head slowly. He knew what the question implied. “I’ll take care of it myself here. Y’all go on, Jim,” Rick replied.

Jim nodded his head and turned and walked back to the MRAP. When he reached the truck, he radioed for the rest of the convoy to move out.

With heavy hearts, the others drove by and looked at the wreckage and Rick leaning against it. No one asked. They all knew what must have happened and didn’t need to know the particulars.

Rick reached the cab of his truck as the other vehicles' taillights rounded a curve and went out of sight. He turned off the headlights and shut down the engine. When they came to get the truck tomorrow, he wanted to make sure it would have fuel and a good battery.

Rick walked back to where Steve’s truck had come to rest, its headlights still on but he didn’t feel up to crawling inside to shut them off, nor had he seen any need.

The noise from the crash and struggle, and the lights of Steve’s truck continued to draw infected from the surrounding woods.

Rick shot the closest of the runners and then sat down in the median with his back against the cab of the truck. Rick waited until the infected got closer before he fired. Soon there were too many of the quick infected coming toward him.

He had decided shortly after the plague started that he wasn’t going to be eaten alive or turned into a rabid shell of himself. “God forgive me if this is wrong,” Rick said before he placed the muzzle in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

The convoy of trucks reached the farm and after a delay of a half hour to thin out infected, they entered the gate. Jim broke the news to Jen and Steve’s wife Janice. Jen, as could be expected, was upset with the loss of Rick, and Steve as well. But Janice completely broke down and became hysterical with grief. She had to be given a sedative.

Although they were exhausted from the trip, those that returned from Camp Blanding remained awake for the rest of the night to help with security. They took turns with quick naps when a moment presented. Their late arrival seemed to have attracted a large number of infected. It wasn’t like the numbers when they had overrun the farm, but still too many for anyone to get real sleep.

Chapter 23

The residents of the compound found the dawn had brought with it a clear sky. With the temperature in the upper thirties, it was the coldest it had been since winter began. As the day grew brighter, the temperature increased, but the wind picked up as well. Only the children seemed rested. Every adult was sleep deprived.

Jim, Chris, Royce, and Brent took a bobtail tractor, the tow truck, and the MRAP to retrieve Rick and Steve's remains and the abandoned trucks. First they needed to clear the bodies from the night before to make a path out the gate.

The residents that stayed behind at the compound that morning would continue on with work. This time they would begin digging the graves for Rick and Steve.

The trucks arrived on location. Jim drove the MRAP leading the group and had stopped far enough away so that Brent wouldn’t see his brother’s remains. What remained of Rick’s body was visible from where they stopped. He was bent forward at the waist and lay in front of the cab on his left side.

No infected were in sight. Jim tried to convince Brent to stay inside, but he insisted he wanted to help collect the remains of his brother and Rick. Jim pulled the MRAP closer and he and Brent got out.

Chris manned the M249 in the turret as his father and the others went about collecting their dead.

Rick and Steve’s bodies were placed in separate tarps that were taped closed and then placed in the MRAP. Rick’s body had little flesh remaining. Since Steve had been in the cab, it seemed he had mostly been overlooked for the easier meal. The bodies of several infected that had apparently been killed by Rick were placed in the ditch and burned.

Once the task of collecting their comrades' remains and disposal of the other bodies was done, the men gathered around the wreckage to try and figure out a way of getting the trailer off its side. After some discussion Royce came up with what seemed like the best plan.

They would connect the MRAP, tow truck, and bobtail truck to the wrecked trailer with chains and try to pull it back over onto its wheels.

Chris and the rest in their group had to shoot more infected that had walked too close as they worked. They were slow variety. The sunlight kept the quick infected away.

It took over twenty-five minutes to get connected to the wreckage, but once that was done it was pulled upright quickly. The men lowered the landing gear on the trailer, unlocked it from the fifth wheel and towed the wrecked tractor out of the way.

They siphoned the diesel that remained in the mangled rig’s tanks to be taken back. They soon had the bobtail hooked up and headed back to the compound with the bodies and the remaining loads of Hesco barriers.

Brent had wiped away some tears while they extricated his brother’s remains and some afterwards while they worked. He remained stoic throughout. While they were on their way back to the farm he allowed himself to cry and grieve for his brother.

Jen and Janice had both wanted the men buried on the farm. Janice cried and wailed inconsolably as they laid her husband and Rick to rest. She had become so distraught Jim injected her with a sedative again to calm her.

Brent and Marlene had to assist her inside the house. Over the next two and a half weeks, most of the residents worked to the point of near total exhaustion to erect the barriers around the farm. The Hescos were filled with dirt using the backhoe tractor and the assistance of some with shovels. With the aid of a local fire truck, water was also added as they filled them with the dirt to aid in packing the soil.

The barriers were placed close to the farm’s fencing before the residents had been forced to reduce the area for security. Many of the guard towers were still in place from before, but with their reduced personnel the camera system Brent had been working on would help to partially negate their lack of numbers. One person monitoring the camera feeds could dispatch a roving patrol or two wherever a threat presented.

Janice seemed to be improving; she cried less and she began to speak again to the others, but usually only when spoken to. But it was improvement. She still spent most of the time alone and in bed.