Transmission: Voodoo Plague Book 5 (6 page)

Captain Roach worked throughout the day to get the steady
stream of evacuees processed and entered into a simple Excel spreadsheet that
was doing duty as the database of civilians that had made it to Tinker Air Force
Base.  He didn’t like the work, but was excited at the opportunity to identify
women for his and Synthia’s games.  Any girl or woman that caught his attention
was marked on the list in a subtle manner. 

When their names were typed into the spreadsheet he would
insert a period rather than a comma between their last and first names.  Roach
was pleased with himself for having come up with this idea on the fly.  If
anyone noticed, they would pass it off as a typo.  He was confident it was
nothing that could ever be attributed back to him as there were also two
Sergeants entering data into the same spreadsheet. 

So far he had picked out four women.  The first on his list
was the woman he’d met when he first arrived at the processing station, Katie
Chase.  There was something about her that intrigued him, yet frightened him at
the same time.  He preferred women who were naïve.  Sometimes their naivety was
due to a lack of life experience, others just weren’t smart enough to recognize
danger when it looked them in the face and smiled.

Katie, however, was anything but naïve.  He recognized the
intelligence, and more.  There was iron behind her beautiful smile, and he had
no doubt she knew how to use the large pistol she carried on her hip.  He would
have to be careful with her.  He wasn’t going to be able to trick or lure her
the way he did other women.  She would see through him, he was certain.  But
that just made him want her more.

She had been placed in an empty barrack not far from his new
house, the other women and all the children who had arrived with her sharing
the space.  Seated at a folding table in the hangar that had been pressed into
duty for processing civilians, he looked up from the laptop and through the
open door at the large building to which Katie had been assigned.  It was on
the far side of a series of runways, but clearly visible.  He thought he could
see figures running around, chasing each other, outside the building.  The kids
playing.

Letting his mind drift, he fantasized about taking her home
with him.  Walking in the front door and surprising Synthia with her.  Hitting
her in the back of the head to subdue her before she could recognize the
danger.  Carrying her to the bedroom where he and Synthia would strip her
naked, tie her to the bed, gag her and wait for her to regain consciousness.

When she woke, she would be confused for a moment, then
terrified.  Roach knew from experience that as soon as he saw the fear in her
eyes he would immediately achieve a rock hard erection that only the
dispensation of pain could relieve.  He pictured in his mind what he would do
to Katie.  What Synthia would do as he violently penetrated the bound woman. 
He could already hear her whimpers and moans as they drew their pleasure from
her body.

Then the climax.  The knife thrust to her heart as he pushed
himself even deeper into her.  Feeling her body spasm as the life force left it,
at the same time reaching his orgasm.  The sensation of her going still as his
heart pounded out the last of his pleasure.  The calming of his entire being as
the desire, need, to take the woman’s life as he deposited his seed in her was
fulfilled. 

“Sir?”  Roach was startled, snapping out of his daydream and
looking up at the Sergeant that was speaking to him.

How long had the woman been standing there?  He realized he
had an erection and was glad he was seated, the table concealing his
tumescence. 

“Yes.  What is it?”  He asked, his voice gruff with
emotion.  The Sergeant gave him an odd look.

“There’s another group just clearing the main gate.  They’ll
be here in five minutes.  Just thought you’d want a heads up.”

“Thank you.”  Roach nodded and dismissed her, watching her
walk away.  Not his type, he thought, looking back at the laptop.

Katie Chase.  Chase.  Why was that name familiar?  Roach
thought about it for a moment, but couldn’t place why it rang a bell. 
Scrolling down the list to look at the other names he’d marked, he suddenly
stopped and scrolled back up.  Chase.  That was that fucking Army Major’s
name!  No, not possible.  Or was it?

Leaning forward he scanned across the spreadsheet, reading
the details the woman had provided during processing.  She was from a suburb of
Phoenix, Arizona.  In the column for next of kin he read the name John Chase. 
Was that the Major’s first name?  He thought hard, but couldn’t remember ever
having heard it.  Scrolling far to the right he checked the column that showed
whether or not the person being processed had family in the military.  It had
an upper case N for no. 

Roach thought about what he knew about the man.  He hadn’t
been in uniform the night he’d arrived at Arnold Air Force Base with the bitch
and the dog.  Had he been recalled by that damn Army Colonel that had
interfered?  That would explain why this woman had answered no to the question
about family in uniform.  Things had changed that she didn’t know about.

Minimizing the spreadsheet, Roach logged in to one of the
few military databases that were still operational.  He didn’t know the details
about where it was or how it was still accessible.  All he cared about was that
he could still get in.  Clicking in the search box he typed in the name and hit
enter.  The cursor spun for a few seconds before the screen refreshed with the search
results.

Staring at him was a younger version of the Major.  The face
was a little leaner and he had hair, though it was cut close to his scalp, but
it was the same hard eyes.  The same little sneer of the upper lip that
silently communicated “I can kick your ass and I know it”.  The nose was
straighter, apparently having been broken at least once between the time of the
photo and when Roach met the man, but it was without a doubt the same prick.

The record showed the Major had declined to re-enlist about
10 years ago, leaving the Army as a Master Sergeant.  Other than basic details
such as date of original enlistment, his entire file was classified.  But Roach
knew there was a part that wouldn’t be.  Clicking a couple of links he quickly
found what he was looking for. 

Four years ago the Major had requested a copy of his DD-214,
the paperwork showing a person’s dates of service, type of discharge from the
military and some other minor information about them.  Roach didn’t care about
the dates, or whether or not he had received an honorable discharge.  He wanted
to know where the forms were mailed, and there it was.  A street address in the
same suburb the woman had listed as her home.

Roach felt energized.  He had that fucker’s wife!  And the
best part, the Major, if he was still alive, would never know she was here
unless Roach decided to tell him.  With a smile he scrolled back to the left,
selected the entire row that contained Katie’s information and pressed delete. 
She would be his little secret. 

Dog growled a second time, raising his head higher and
twitching his nose as he sampled the smells the strong wind was bringing to
him.  Rachel looked at him, then looked east again, but still saw nothing other
than an empty horizon.  Regretting her failure to approach the two men and be
safely in a vehicle, miles away by now, she got to her knees to gain some
elevation.  Still nothing, and Dog continued to growl.

Growing more concerned by the moment, Rachel finally stood
to her full height and moved to the higher ground near the Interstate.  Dog
stayed next to her, between her and whatever had him worried, pushing against
her with his body.  He wanted her to start moving west.

Standing still, Rachel looked again.  When she still failed
to see any danger she raised the rifle and peered through the scope, slowly
scanning across the horizon.  Her breath caught in her throat when she saw four
razorbacks moving across the field no more than 300 yards away.  Their black
coats blended well with the dark mud and when she looked without benefit of the
scope’s low power magnification she couldn’t spot them even though she knew
where they were.

They hadn’t seen or smelled her or Dog yet.  The wind was
from their direction and was gusting, so she wasn’t concerned about scent.  But
did they have good eyesight?  This she didn’t know.  Usually the animals with
the best vision were predators, and based on her limited knowledge of the wild
hogs she didn’t think they had evolved as top-level predators.  As far as she
knew, they were herbivores, but she wasn’t about to bet her life on that.

She had witnessed a pair of them attack a group of men and
kill two of them.  But something about the attack hadn’t felt right.  There was
no stalking of their prey.  They had just charged straight in and attacked with
no apparent concern other than killing.  With a start Rachel realized that she
had just described an infected human!

Her mind went back to medical school classes.  Learning
about contagions and how they are transmitted from person to person.  They
hadn’t delved into inter-species viral transmissions, that was training that
would come after graduation depending upon your specialization, but it had been
discussed.  The media had enjoyed frightening the public for years with
speculative reports of bird and swine flu pandemics.  Those reports contained
enough fact to be scary, but also a lot of what ifs and occasionally outright
bullshit.

However, it was quite common for a virus to mutate and jump
from one species to another.  Birds, swine, primates and many other mammals
could pass along an infection to humans.  And it worked the other way, too. 
Rachel knew that, and even understood some of the mechanics around how it
happened.  That knowledge didn’t make her feel any better.  In fact, it scared
the hell out of her.  Like infected humans running around wasn’t bad enough?

Looking around, her eyes fell on the bodies lying in the
middle of the westbound traffic lanes.  Moving quickly, she walked over to the
closest razorback and knelt next to its head.  With a tentative touch, she
lifted one of its eyelids and gasped when she saw the blood red eye.  She
jerked her hand back like she had received an electric shock and stood up to
check on the hogs in the far field. 

They were moving in her direction at a fast trot, but still
didn’t appear to be aware of her presence.  That didn’t matter.  Their trot was
faster than she could run, and she remembered the speed they’d displayed when
attacking the men.  She never would have guessed they could move that fast, but
they did have fairly long legs for their body size, and were probably capable
of running at least as fast as a dog.

Rachel turned, checking the area for shelter from the
approaching beasts.  She knew she couldn’t outdistance them, and had to find
someplace to hide from them before they got close enough to see her.  There
were still the abandoned vehicles, but the only one that was still intact was
the Mercedes.  She knew she could get in it, but it was low to the ground and
she didn’t know if the razorbacks would try to break in if they detected her. 
They were certainly big and strong enough to smash out the car’s windows.

Dismissing the sedan, she looked at the construction
equipment.  There was a big orange grader, but its cab was open to the
elements, and even though the seat was 10 feet off the ground, Rachel didn’t
like her odds of being safe in it.  Behind the grader was an even larger
backhoe.  Its cab was also 10 feet off the ground, but was enclosed.  Calling
Dog, she ran to the machine and after a moment found the obvious way to climb
up and into the operator’s seat.

Mercifully, the door was either unlocked or lacking a lock,
and she quickly clambered aboard and took a seat.  Dog stood on the ground,
looking up at her and whining.  He wanted to follow, but the ascent that was
easy for a human was impossible for a canine.  Rachel turned and checked on the
razorbacks’ progress.  They were still trotting along, oblivious, and were now
less than 200 yards away.

Frozen by not knowing what to do, she stared down at Dog. 
His whines were growing louder as the beasts continued to close.  Looking over
her shoulder, Rachel saw the hogs suddenly accelerate to a full run.  They had
been seen.  Damn it!

Reacting, not thinking, she quickly slithered down the side
of the backhoe, jumping the final two feet to the ground.  Bending, she wrapped
her arms around Dog’s torso and lifted as he scrabbled with his front paws,
trying to climb up the steel side of the machine.  She gave up after only a
couple of seconds.  Maybe John could have lifted Dog and carried him up to the
cab, but there was no way she could.

A quick glance over her shoulder and she knew she had less
than 10 seconds.  Abandoning the backhoe, she dashed for the Mercedes, yelling
for Dog.  Arriving at the driver’s door, Rachel imagined she could hear the
heavy breathing of the razorbacks, and risked a backward glance.  They were
passing the grader and almost on her.  Dog was standing between her and the
swiftly approaching beasts, legs spread and head down with teeth showing, but
she knew he was way out of his weight class in that fight.

Yanking the front door open she screamed for Dog who turned
and leapt into the car.  Rachel was right behind him, nearly slamming the door
on her leg in her haste to reach the safety of the interior.  Less than a
second after she closed the door, the lead razorback slammed into it, rocking
the entire vehicle.  Rachel screamed and Dog hopped into the back seat and
started barking at the window, frothy saliva flying onto the glass.

The remaining three razorbacks were close behind, the car
continuing to shudder as they slammed into its sides.  They began slashing, the
wickedly sharp tusks making a horrible screeching sound on the sheet metal. 
When that didn’t work, they started circling the car, occasionally slamming a
shoulder or head into one of the doors.

Rachel got Dog back into the front seat, finally calming him
to a degree with an arm circled around his neck.  He was taut as a bowstring
and primed for a fight, but she wasn’t about to let him out of the car.  As
fast and strong as he was, the razorbacks would gut him in an instant and stomp
him to death when he went down. 

As she sat in the front seat, watching them continue to
circle, Rachel was reminded of old movies about sailors lost at sea with sharks
circling before attacking.  The build of the animals kept their heads lower
than their shoulders, and she was relieved to see that they weren’t trying to
break the glass.  The lead razorback was massive, his shoulders a good six
inches taller than the bottom of the side window.  He must have weighed close
to 400 pounds and was regularly slamming into the car, looking for a point of
weakness to exploit.

Rachel leaned her head back against the leather headrest and
took a deep breath.  They seemed safe for the moment, but what the hell were
they going to do?  How long would the razorbacks keep trying to break in?  And
even if they left, what was she going to do?  They would still be around and
she didn’t think either her or dog would survive on foot for very long.

She started going over ideas in her mind.  Thinking about
options.  Equipment available to her.  Anything that would either help them
escape, or kill the razorbacks.  There were no vehicles within sight that were
still functioning.  It was a safe assumption there were none to the east,
otherwise the men who had fixed and taken the Bronco would already have been
driving.  Had the tornados caused that much devastation?

She had already searched the Mercedes for its keys, as had
the men, but out of desperation she started another search.  Slow and
methodical.  Even if she had checked a spot earlier, she looked again.  Looked
in spots that she knew were too small to hold even a single key, but not
willing to risk overlooking something.  After 15 minutes she hadn’t found them
and the hogs were still circling, still slamming into the doors nearly every
circuit.