Recovery: V Plague Book 8 (20 page)

BOOK: Recovery: V Plague Book 8
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37

 

I sat
patiently, waiting, after the sound of the helicopter’s rotor faded away into
the distance.  Just because they’d flown out of earshot didn’t mean they were
leaving.  I was pretty confident that was the case, but then they could simply
be leaving the area and making a big circle to come back from a different
direction.  Low and fast over the rooftops, suddenly appearing overhead without
anyone on the ground having enough advance warning of their approach to take
cover.

Not at all
beyond the realm of possibility, and the thought had occurred to me because I’d
done the same thing a couple of times in the past.  Well, had gotten the pilot
to do it, but it all works out the same.  If your target is in the area and
isn’t expecting you to suddenly show back up it’s a great way to catch him
unaware.  It had worked both times I’d done it and I wasn’t about to be
impatient or foolish enough for it to work on me.

So, I sat
there and watched the infected wander around through the insurance office’s
front windows.  More had arrived and there were too many to count, more females
than males.  I had a plan to deal with them when the time came to go get Katie
and Dog.  I just had to be patient and stay quiet and still until then.

The
afternoon was wearing on, long shadows from the handful of trees in the area
stretching across the pavement when I finally was comfortable the Russians
weren’t coming back.  Moving to the back door I peeked through the spy-hole,
seeing three males just standing there where the dead soldiers had been.  Maybe
they could still smell the blood and were sticking to the area waiting for a
meal to appear. 

I didn’t
know and didn’t waste any time trying to figure out why they would do
something.  Cracking the door open I looked through the gap to make sure there
wasn’t a larger group that would pounce as soon as I stepped out, but other
than the three the alley looked clear.  The males heard the sound of the door
opening and as one, spun in my direction and snarled.

Lifting my
rifle I fired three quick, suppressed shots, stepping over the bodies and
looking around to make sure I was still alone.  Not seeing anything, I hefted
the Russian grenade launcher and sighted on a two-story business on the next
block behind the alley.  I pulled the trigger twice, sending two high explosive
grenades on their way. 

Grenade
launchers are nowhere near as loud as a rifle or pistol when fired, but they still
make enough noise to give away your position.  I was already in motion when the
first grenade struck the air conditioning unit on the building’s roof and
detonated with a thunderous explosion.  I was back through the opening and
pulling the door closed behind me when the second one arrived.  I didn’t see
what it struck, but it was loud too.

Flipping the
lever to lock the deadbolt, I moved through the gloomy interior to look out the
front windows.  The street was already clear of females who had instantly
responded by breaking into a sprint towards the sound of the grenades.  There
were still males visible but they were all moving in the same direction the
females had gone.  Away from the department store.

I gave them
half a minute to open some distance before quietly slipping out the front door
and running down the street to where Dog and Katie were hiding.  Yanking the
front door open I entered the store with a great deal of caution.  I didn’t
believe any infected had made it inside but I wasn’t going to take a chance.

There
weren’t any in the front of the store and I glanced over my shoulder through
the windows to check the street before pushing into the storage area.  Street
still clear, I nudged one of the swinging doors open with the muzzle of my
rifle, stepped up to hold it with my back and scanned with the night vision
scope.  Still nothing. 

“It’s me,” I
raised my voice to let Katie know not to shoot when I began pulling boxes out
of the way, and also to draw out any infected that might be in hiding.

Nothing
charged at me screaming or began a slow, shambling walk in my direction. 
Quickly I moved to the stack of cartons on the back wall and started tossing
them aside, unconcerned with being neat or tidy.  I grinned when a box tumbled
out of the way and Dog shoved his head through the opening to greet me. 

I stopped
working long enough to briefly ruffle his ears then widened the opening until
he jumped through.  Katie followed, extending her arm out for me to help her
clamber free.  Pulling her to her feet I crushed her against me and kissed her.

“I missed
you, too,” she smiled when I stepped back.  The smile disappeared when she saw
the blood soaking my clothes.  “What happened?  You’re bleeding!” 

“Nothing,” I
said, trying to dismiss it.

“What was
nothing before can kill you now,” she said, taking the light off her rifle and
scanning around.

Spotting a
green cabinet labeled first aid, she rushed over to the wall and opened the
door.  She rummaged through until she found what she wanted before returning to
me and making me take my vest and shirt off.

“We don’t
have time for this,” I complained as I unbuttoned my shirt.

“Shut up,”
she said, leaning in to see.

She dumped
about half a bottle of hydrogen peroxide directly into the wound.  It hurt, but
I’m a big tough guy and didn’t complain.  Much.  Patting the area dry she
smeared the raw flesh with antibiotic ointment and slapped a large gauze pad on
top, securing it to me with white medical tape.  I started to put the bloody
shirt back on, but she stopped me and told me to take my pants off.

“Great idea,
but we really don’t have time for that,” I said, drawing an exasperated sigh as
she rolled her eyes.

While I took
my boots off and peeled the blood soaked pants down my legs, Katie cracked open
one of the boxes she’d been hiding behind and dug through, checking sizes on
the Levi’s that spilled out.  Finding a pair, she tossed them to me and moved
to a rack on the wall where new shirts were stored. 

Selecting
something that would fit, she held it up while I pulled on my new jeans and
stepped into my boots.  I finished dressing quickly, tied my boots and situated
the vest back on my upper body.

“Is it clear
outside?”  Katie asked when I finished changing.

“So far,” I
said.  “The Russians left a couple of hours ago.  The infected are distracted
and we should be able to make it to the car and get out of here.”

Leading the
way, I headed for the front of the store.  Dog fell in next to my right leg as
I walked.

“Nice toy,
Rambo,” Katie said, tapping the grenade launcher and looking at the bandolier
of spare grenades draped across my upper body.

“The
Russians had one and I just had to have it,” I said as we reached the front
door.

The street
was still clear and I pushed out through the swinging door.  Katie handed me
the car keys and we jogged down the street to where I’d left it parked against
the bus.  I breathed a sigh of relief when we got close enough to tell the
canon fire from the HIND hadn’t damaged it.  Pushing a button on the key, the
lights flashed and the door locks popped up.

I took a
moment to pile my new toy and its spare ammo into the back seat with Dog then
slipped behind the wheel and cranked the engine.  The Dodge rumbled to life and
I tisked when I saw the fuel gauge settle at less than a quarter of a tank.  I
wanted to get on the road and make as many miles as we could before it got dark
and I had to lower my speed, but we were going to have to stop for gas before
leaving Dodge City.

Steering
around the wrecked vehicles I’d used for camouflage I headed for the small
highway we’d taken to get into town.  As I turned on to it I looked up at the
rearview and saw several females in hot pursuit.  They’d been attracted by the
snarl of the exhaust but we had too much of a head start for them to be a
threat.

I
accelerated hard, heading back to the east to pick up the northbound highway
that would take us to the Interstate.  We had only covered a couple of miles
when we passed the last sign of civilization.  It was a small gas station with
a Tastee Freeze built in where the service bay used to be. 

The terrain
was almost perfectly flat and I couldn’t see anything between the horizon and
us.  Hitting the brakes and cranking the wheel I turned around and roared back
to the gas station, sliding to a stop next to the access panels for the fuel
tanks.

“Same
routine as last time,” I said, releasing the trunk and hood before I jumped
out.  “Keep an eye on the road from town.  There were some females chasing as
we turned onto the highway.”

“As long as
you get me a vanilla swirl from the Tastee Freeze,” Katie said sweetly.

She moved
out into the middle of the road, Dog at her side, and stood facing west with
her rifle up across her chest.  Once the fuel was pumping I checked the oil and
needed to add a quart.  The Dodge was finally showing signs of the torture I
was putting it through. 

There was a
small booth that sold snacks and other necessities to travelers.  Next to the
door was a wire rack that held a few bottles of motor oil, antifreeze and
windshield washer fluid.  The cap that covered the oil filler neck in the
Charger was labeled with the type of oil the car needed, 5W-40 full synthetic
if it matters, and there were half a dozen bright yellow bottles of Pennzoil in
the display.  I dumped one of them into the engine and tossed the rest into the
trunk as gas began gushing out of the filler neck.

“Females
coming,” Katie called.

“I need two
minutes,” I said, dashing to disconnect the power to the pump from the battery.

“That’s all
you’ve got,” she said.

I slammed
the hood and looked up as I grabbed the pump off the ground and disconnected
the two hoses.  The sun was low and charging directly out of it were several
figures.  Dumping the pump into the trunk I started coiling the hoses as she
began firing at the swiftly approaching females.

Hoses
stowed, I slammed the trunk and stepped into the road next to her.  Rifle up, I
began firing and together we finished off the last of the females.  Ahh,
couples therapy.  Who the hell needs Dr. Phil?

38

 

“I don’t see
any movement, sir.”  Jessica said over the sat phone connection.

We were on
US highway 283, driving due north from Dodge City.  The speedometer was solidly
on 140 miles per hour and I had to stay very focused on the rough road.  The
sun was directly over my left shoulder, the bottom edge just beginning to brush
the horizon.

Once we’d
gotten back up to speed I’d had Katie get the phone out and place a call to
Jessica.  I wanted to check on the progress of the Bradley as well as see if
the weather had let up enough for her to at least get a thermal image of Rachel
and the pilot.  I asked about the Bradley first and she had taken a moment to
locate it as her attention had been focused on Dodge City.

“They’re not
answering the FSOC, either.  The Bradley is just parked at a small truck stop. 
The rear ramp is up and it appears to be buttoned up tight.”

We could
hear her working the keyboard and mouse as we waited.  I can be the most patient
person in the world when I’m in a combat situation, but don’t ask me to wait
for information.  Or for a table at a restaurant.  I absolutely despise waiting
to be seated and used to drive Katie nuts.  Guess that wasn’t a problem any
longer.

“What are you
seeing, Jessica?”  I asked when I couldn’t take it any longer.

“Nothing,
sir.  I thought I saw some movement around the Bradley but it was just a large
bird.”

Katie and I
exchanged a glance and she shrugged her shoulders before I had to turn my
attention back to my driving.

“Stand by,
sir.  I’m scanning out from the Bradley in case I missed something.”

I forced
myself to be patient and focus on the road.  The flat grasslands on either side
of the faded ribbon of asphalt were turning a brilliant shade of reddish-gold
in the dying light of the sun.  I was grateful for the pair of Oakley shades
that Katie had found in the car as the glare would have been almost unbearable
without them.  Katie was sitting with her head turned slightly away from the
setting sun, her eyes squinted into slits.  That’s fine if you’re not the one
driving at a ridiculously fast pace.

“Nothing within
fifteen miles of the Bradley, but there are a couple of bodies on the ground
back at the truck stop.  Didn’t see them earlier because they were in shade
under a canopy, but the sun’s angle changed and I spotted them.  Both in
Russian uniforms, but they’re face down and that’s all I can tell.”

“No other
bodies?”  I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Negative,
sir.  That’s it.  And I don’t think they’re in the Bradley.  I did a thermal
scan and its engine isn’t hot, so it’s not sitting there idling.  The feed was
being written to disc so there’s a chance I’ll be able to go back and find out
what happened to them, but it will take me a while.”

“OK,” I
said.  “See what you can find.  What about the targets in Idaho?”

“Weather has
improved, but there’s still heavy overcast,” she reported a moment later. 
“Thermal is able to see one target alone, sir.  At the edge of a lake.  There
are nine other heat sources in a loose group a few hundred yards to the
target’s front.”

“Only one
target?”  I asked, feeling a deep sense of dread in my gut.

“Yes, sir. 
Only one.  He, or she, is next to a campfire and is definitely alone.” 

I didn’t
know what to say as fear for Rachel flushed through me.  Katie picked up on it
and reached over to place her hand on my shoulder.

“Sir?  You
still there?”  Jessica asked after almost a minute of silence.

“I’m still
here,” I said, surprised my voice was as strong as it was when I spoke. 
“Please keep an eye on the target as well as see what you can find out about
the group that was in the Bradley.  Where’s my next fuel stop?”

“You turn
west onto Interstate 70 in fifty-seven miles, then in one hundred and eleven
miles you’ll see a large truck stop.   There’s a few infected in the area but
it’s the only fuel for seventy miles in either direction.”

“Thanks,
Jessica.  Call me as soon as you know something,” I said and hit the button on
the steering wheel to end the call.

“It might be
the pilot that’s missing,” Katie said, trying to comfort me. 

Considering
the circumstances, that I was upset over the possibility that a woman who might
have replaced her was dead, I was deeply touched.  And reminded how good of a
wife I really had.  She’d always been the more thoughtful and considerate of
the two of us, usually making sure I was better behaved than I would have been
if left to my own devices.

“Or it might
be the pilot and Rachel’s dead,” I said softly, unconsciously pushing harder on
the accelerator pedal but it was already flat against the floor.

Katie didn’t
have anything to say to that.  She settled for squeezing my shoulder to
reassure me then turned to pet Dog when he thrust his head between our seats. 

“You saw our
house after I left it?”  She asked, trying to distract me.

“Yeah.  I
was in an Air Force bomber on my way to Los Alamos.  Got them to let me take a
look.  I was going to head home as soon as I was done in New Mexico.”

“Steve told
me it burned,” she said.  “Was he telling the truth?”

“He was,” I
said, nodding.  “And that was my first clue that you might still be alive.  The
roof had caved in from the fire but my truck wasn’t in the garage.  Speaking of
my truck, how the hell did you beat it up so bad?  Even the bumper was missing
when I found it at Tinker!”

The sun had
set by now and I removed the sunglasses as the Dodge’s automatic headlights
came on.  What I wouldn’t have given for a set of night vision goggles so I
didn’t have to run with the lights on.  I’d be able to see better and the
Charger wouldn’t stand out against the dark prairie.  But I didn’t have one so
I kept pushing and hoped for the best.

“Focus on
your driving and don’t kill us and I’ll tell you what happened to your truck,”
Katie said, still scratching Dog’s ears.

BOOK: Recovery: V Plague Book 8
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