Read Omega Pathogen: Despair Online
Authors: J. G. Hicks Jr,Scarlett Algee
Jim waited and watched for several long minutes and found that the man never looked in other directions with his optics. He concentrated only on the MRAP.
As Jim stood to a crouch to continue forward, the man looked down into the truck and said something. Jim froze. In a second or two what looked to be an AK-47 or SKS rifle was handed up to the lookout man.
The man sat the rifle on the roof beside him and resumed his pattern of quickly looking at the MRAP through the optics and hiding behind the hatch.
Jim moved toward the pickup truck again. He was even more careful than before; if the man on lookout happened to look to his right, he knew he’d be spotted.
Jim angled his direction of approach toward the rear of the pickup and to the shoulder of the road on the opposite side of the truck. He tried to stay out of easy sight of the man standing watch, but the man still only seemed to be interested in watching the MRAP whenever he quickly poked his head around the side of the hatch.
A little smile formed for a second on Jim's face as he watched the man. His family had done well. They took out one of the threats and had those remaining too fearful to approach. Then thoughts of his younger children, Berk and Kayra, flashed through his mind. The fear they must have felt when these scum had attacked them outside the hospital and forced his wife to flee. He pushed his anger and thoughts of his family to the back of his mind and focused only on where he was and what he was doing.
Jim angled further toward his left and into the shallow ditch on the opposite side of the road of the pickup. He lay prone, close to the fresh grave of the man buried earlier in the day. Further to his left he could now see water and noticed several alligators feeding on a human corpse. The large reptiles weren’t as active during the winter months, but in Florida a day or two of cold weather could be followed by several warm days. They took advantage of the warm winter night and the easy meal. Three alligators, varying between four to eight feet long, clamped down on different parts of what remained of the body. As each one bit down, their death spin quickly followed and ripped away hunks of flesh and bone.
Jim heard low voices once again and saw movement from inside the bed of the truck, as silhouettes passed in front of small gaps in the metal box covering the truck bed. The man standing sentry looked down into the opening where he stood and spoke to those inside. Jim made out the words, ‘It’s clear.’
Through the rear door of the truck’s makeshift armored enclosure stepped the woman. With only the slight mound of the new grave shielding him, Jim pressed the side of his face into the dirt to try and be as small as possible.
The woman carried a roll of toilet paper under her left arm and a revolver in her right hand. She quietly closed the rear door and walked to an oak tree surrounded by brush just near the rear of the driver side of the pickup.
Jim didn’t see any night vision optics worn or carried by the woman. He guessed they only had the one pair, since she periodically would shine the red-lensed flashlight as a guide in her short walk toward the tree. Jim considered using his AR-15 but even with the suppressor it would be heard clearly by those inside the pickup.
The woman stopped and shined her light at the man atop the truck. “Is it still clear?” she asked in a loud, slurred attempt at a whisper.
Jim cringed; although she seemed to know she should be quiet, the alcohol and drugs she was now under the influence of kept her from controlling her volume.
The man on the roof looked in her direction with his night vision. “Yeah. Be quiet and hurry up and piss,” the man answered and turned his attention back toward the MRAP.
Jim determined now was as good a time as he may get. The three were probably as separated as far from each other as they would be that night.
He rose from the ground and with his AR-15 aimed at the woman he made his way toward her. While he closed the distance, she appeared to look around, but didn’t turn on her flashlight. She couldn’t see him in the blackness. She bent down and set her revolver and the roll of toilet paper on the ground.
Jim angled his approach to stay behind her. He heard the sound of her zipper as she pulled it down. He continued to approach, he was less than six feet away when she grabbed the waistband of her jeans on each side and prepared to lower her pants. Jim moved his rifle so it hung on its harness on his left. He removed the knife from its sheath on his right thigh and closed the remaining distance.
As the woman began to bend in an effort to lower her pants, Jim reached around with his left hand, brought it up and struck her in the chin with the heel of his hand. Immediately after the blow landed, he closed his palm around her mouth and her nose to try to prevent any cries for help.
The force of the blow to her chin caused immediate pain in her jaw and a spontaneous reaction to cry out. Vanessa tried but was unable to take in air, because a hand was now clasped over her mouth and nose. The pain of the initial hit gave way to the fear and panic of not being able to breathe. She tasted her blood as it filled her mouth. Vanessa scratched and clawed at her attacker's hand but it brought her no air.
Jim held his grip tightly with his left hand and pulled the woman against his body to maintain control and get an easier kill strike with his knife. The woman continued to claw and scratch at his hand and arm as he placed the tip of the six-inch blade to the right side of her neck, where the skull ends and the cervical spine begins.
Jim felt the blade penetrate her skin and scrape past bone as he pushed in the knife and angled the blade upward and severed her spine. The woman ceased movement and became limp. He pulled out the blade and felt her warm blood flow onto his chest as he slowly dragged her body behind the oak tree. He wiped the woman’s blood from his knife onto her shirt and sheathed it.
As Jim stood upright from the body, he heard the man’s voice from the top of the truck whisper, “Vanessa.” Jim looked around the shrubs and the oak tree and saw the man looking directly at him through his handheld night vision device.
Simultaneously, the man bent down and grabbed the rifle that had lay at his feet while Jim found the pistol grip of his AR-15 and was bringing it up at the man on the roof.
The man on top of the truck was already at a disadvantage; his rifle was further away at his feet and he could only use one hand as the other held the night vision optics so he could see Jim. Jim’s rifle had been at his side. Jim aimed and fired three shots as the man was in the process of awkwardly trying to put his rifle’s buttstock against his shoulder. The man dropped onto to his back on the roof with the upper part of his body hanging over the driver's side. Gravity took over and the man’s body slid off the side onto the ground.
Jim heard movement from inside the steel box, not sure where the giant man may try to exit, he alternated his aim between the upper hatch and the back door of the truck bed.
Jim heard the familiar deep guttural growl of the infected. From around the passenger side of the pickup two infected came into view. At the same instant the rear door of the truck flung open and struck the infected male closest to the truck. The thick steel door struck it in the forehead with enough force that it sent the infected flying backward four feet and it landed on its back.
The other infected, a female, now focused on the giant man as he leaped out from the bed of the truck with a large pistol in his right hand and a flashlight in the left. The infected woman didn’t hesitate and lunged at the huge man before he could take a step, and clung to him.
Jim aimed his rifle to fire at both the infected woman and the huge man as they fought. As he prepared to fire, he heard more growling and sounds of footfalls closing in. He swung around just in time to see three infected almost within arm's distance of him. Jim fired; killing the three infected, and scanned the area for more.
Jim turned to reacquire aim on the man and infected woman but they had moved behind the truck out of sight. He could hear the sounds of the big man and the infected fighting from the passenger side of the truck. He heard the large man cursing and growling, just like the infected.
Jim continued to rapidly scan around in three hundred and sixty degrees. He looked for any infected that approached, and an opportunity to take a shot at the giant man if it presented. When he spun around back toward the red pickup truck, he just caught enough of a glimpse to start to dodge the huge fist swinging at him.
Jim was struck so hard that he was thrown off his feet towards his right and landed hard on the ground. The NVGs were knocked off his face. Immediately after he hit the ground, the giant man was on top of him, the weight of the man sitting on his waist and lower abdomen was immense.
Jim instinctually lowered his chin toward his chest to try and prevent his trachea from being crushed as he felt the man’s massive hands reach around his neck. Jim realized at the same time that he was lying on top of his rifle. It was now useless. He wouldn’t be able to move the large man off of him to get to it.
He could feel it; he was close to losing consciousness. Jim knew he didn’t have much longer before he’d be robbed of air or blood supply to his brain and would pass out. Or he’d just have his neck snapped by the gigantic man.
Jim tried, but couldn’t reach the knife on his right thigh; it was covered by his attacker's tree-trunk leg. Jim grabbed the knife off his left waistband. The man's height prevented Jim from striking him in the throat, so he thrust the knife twice into the man’s right lower ribcage.
With each thrust the blade penetrated skin and muscle and scraped ribs as it passed into his lung. The man flinched, his grip loosened as he moaned and cried out in anger. Then his grip on Jim’s neck grew strong again.
Jim stabbed twice more and then sliced across the man’s right upper leg near his groin to try and sever the man’s femoral artery. Jim could feel the strength waning in the man’s grip after he’d struck him in the chest, and even more so as he felt the man’s blood spilling onto him and soaking his abdomen from the large laceration to his groin.
Jim could hear the wet gasps of air from the man as he tried to breathe with his right lung collapsed, the space now filled with blood. Jim passed the knife to his right hand, careful not to let it slip away due to the blood that covered it. Jim struck again at the man’s chest to damage his left lung, and then sliced again at the man’s groin to cut the left femoral artery. The man fell limp on top of Jim and everything went black.
Jim woke and gasped for breath under the man’s bulk. Although he was no longer having his neck crushed, he couldn’t take full breaths because of the weight of the lifeless body on top of him. Jim heard the sounds for a few seconds before his fogged mind registered what they were. They were sounds of infected growling close by.
He struggled to free himself of the dead man and reach his AR-15, but couldn’t. Jim heard the sound of a rapidly approaching vehicle. With the glare of the headlights he saw at least five infected close by. The infected changed their course and focused on the oncoming vehicle instead of Jim.
The vehicle screeched to a stop. Jim heard the sounds of suppressed pistol fire along with the sound of Royce calling out his name.
“I’m here,” Jim strained the words out from his painful throat and heavy chest. Within a minute or two Royce had reached his side and started to pull the dead man off. Jim tried to help and pushed as hard he could, but he felt like his efforts did little.
Once Jim was freed from the huge corpse that had crushed him to the ground, Royce helped Jim to his feet and steadied him by holding his arm. “Are you okay?” Royce asked.
“Yeah. Good to go,” Jim replied. Royce let go of Jim to take a two-handed aim with the pistol and shot an infected man that was running at them. Jim saw the NVGs on the ground and bent to pick them up. His head and then body followed his hand to the ground.
Royce pulled Jim back off the ground and toward the red pickup’s enclosed bed. Jim swayed and stumbled as Royce pulled him along. Jim held his grip on the NVGs and struggled to get his rifle up to help defend them. He fired four shots at three infected that had gotten close to them, but missed. Royce shot the infected and pushed Jim into the bed of the truck and followed.
Royce slammed the heavy steel door closed and latched the bar to lock it. Jim was lying on the bed of the truck, still trying to catch his breath and reaching for his head. Jim felt it odd that he found it difficult to find his head with his own hand. Royce looked around the inside of the truck bed and noticed the open roof hatch. He stood, slammed it shut and then locked it.
“Thanks, Royce,” Jim said in a slurred voice as he squinted and widened his eyes to try and focus on Royce’s form. He was finally able to connect his hand to his bleeding head and tried to slow the blood. A battery-powered Coleman lantern that had illuminated the back of the truck had begun to grow dim. His hearing seemed as though he was wearing earmuffs. His field of view began to shrink and blackness took its place. He thought he heard Royce call his name but sound was so distant it was hard to tell. His narrowed vision failed completely and was replaced by total blackness.
Jim covered the woman’s mouth and nose to deprive her of air and to keep her from crying out to alert the others. He stabbed her through the right side of her neck to cut her spine and put an end to the struggle.