Out Of The Fire Page 2

  Candy looked back over her shoulder, but all she saw on the road was dust. “Negative,” she coughed. “But then, I can’t see anything.”

  Mitch stepped from the ATV and checked the fuel tank. He still had half a tank and so did Candy. “We should be good for a little bit,” he said as he climbed back on. “But I’m ready to slow my roll for a bit. Maybe ease back on the running and see if we can’t spot anybody out here.”

  “Do you really think anyone would have made it this far?” She stared into the dark woods on either side of them.

  “As the crow flies, we ain’t that far from where the shit went down.” Mitch pointed to their right and through the trees. “The amphitheater is out that way. The lake is straight ahead.” He pointed to their left and ahead. “The road is going to veer off that way and we’ll come in on the other side of the campgrounds.”

  “You must know this area like the back of your hand.”

  “Actually, I work another area of the park, but I love studying aerial maps.” He kicked the ATV into gear and slowly pulled away, Candy right beside him. He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the handlebars. “We used to come down to this part of the park when we’d get bored.”

  “We?” Candy asked, fishing. “Wife? Girlfriend?”

  Mitch chuckled. “No, my buddy Darren and I. We liked to fish the lake.” He shot her a sideways look and smiled. “Catch and release, but it was still fun.”

  Candy nodded and smiled back. “So, is Darren back at the part of the park where you work?”

  Mitch lowered his eyes to the road and shook his head. “Nope. I had to shoot him tonight,” he said flatly as he continued on.

  “I’m sorry…” Candy trailed off, unsure what else she might say.

  “I’m not,” Mitch said absently, remembering what Darren was like. “It was a mercy.”

  “He got infected?”

  Mitch simply nodded. “Some crazy-assed naked woman running around the woods with a group of others, they got him and…” He turned and stared at her a moment, his face unrecognizable. “It only took a few moments. He got this fever, then he got really mad, then he just lost it. Like he didn’t even know who he was. Or who I was. Or anything.” Mitch shook his head.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, wishing she could reach across the few feet separating them and hold him. “You know he’s in a better place now.”

  Mitch simply nodded. “The dry creek bed,” he said solemnly. “Always was one of his favorite places.”

  Candy turned and shot him a wide-eyed stare, her mouth hanging open. Did she just hear him correctly? She inhaled deeply, about to give Mitch a stern lecture, when he suddenly applied the brakes. “What’s that?” He motioned ahead with his chin.

  Candy snapped her head around and peered into the headlights. She could see something moving in the roadway ahead, but she couldn’t make out exactly what it was. “Is it a person?”

  Mitch’s hand dropped to his pistol and he unsnapped the retention device. He felt the cool plastic of the grip as his hand slipped over it and gently tugged it from the Kydex. He pulled it up and switched hands, then hit the accelerator once more, slowly pulling the ATV forward.

  “Stay with me. There may be more than one of them.”

  “I am not leaving my home, Richard! I think you’ve had too many beers with this strange man,” she argued. Then, lowering her voice, “And how do you even know that he’s really an ex-lawman?” She poked him in the chest with her finger.

  “Harriet, I saw this with my own eyes! This isn’t something that Bill and I just cooked up to try to scare you with.”

  “Good, because it isn’t working. Jason just got here, and I refuse to leave this house with my grandson just because you had one too many and got to telling monster stories around a damned campfire!” She stood up and began to storm from the bedroom.

  “How do you explain the man by the side of the road? Why would he be covered in blood?”

  “Do not start again with that, Richard, I’m not in the mood. I already told you what he told me, and I—”

  “Harriet, dammit!” He jumped to his feet. “For once in your stubborn life, will you listen to me?” Richard’s face was now red and she stepped back from him. “I’m trying to save all of our lives here.”

  “I don’t think I know you anymore,” she stated as she turned and started for the door.

  Bill stepped into the doorway. “I can’t secure this place, Rich. There are too many windows.”

  Harriet jumped back and glared at the man. “Why is he still in my house?” She pointed at Bill.

  “Maybe because he saved my life,” Richard said as he stepped toward the door. “If it hadn’t been for him and his Jeep, I’d still be stuck down at the lake and most likely dead.” He crossed his arms and glared at his wife. “Or is that what you want?”

  Bill looked from one to the other and couldn’t quite understand what was going on. “Is there a problem here?”

  “Nothing we can’t handle.” Harriet reached for the door and slammed it in his face. “That man is no cop.”

  “That man is a retired state trooper.”

  Harriet opened her mouth to shout something at him when there was a light knock on the door. She ground her teeth together and glared at Richard. Reaching for the doorknob, she jerked the door open, “What?!” She found herself staring at an open badge wallet with Bill’s retired ID and badge in it.

  “Just short of thirty years, ma’am,” Bill said softly. She stepped back slightly so that she could look at it more closely and allow her eyes to focus. “I’m not sure what’s wrong here, but I can assure you, the threat he’s telling you about is real. The people at the park have…well, for a lack of better words, lost their ever-loving minds. They’re attacking each other, killing each other, and some appear to even be eating each other.” Bill stepped into the room and folded up his wallet and placed it back into his pocket. “Now, I know this may be a lot to take in, and maybe even harder to swallow, but it appears to us anyhow, that if someone is bit by one of the crazy folks, they go crazy and attack others, too.” Harriet continued to stare at Bill, her gaze narrowing. “Richard here had one thought on his mind the entire time we were down there fighting our way out. And that thought was to get home to you and your grandson.” Bill stepped between the two and held his arms out. “Now, I don’t know about you, but this man just fought his way past hundreds, if not thousands of crazy, screaming, red-eyed, cannibalistic zombies just to get here to save y’all. I think the least you could do is listen to him.”

  Harriet stared at Bill a moment then shook her head. “You’re just as crazy as he is,” she muttered. She pushed past both men and stepped into the hallway. “I don’t know what kind of sick joke you two think you’re playing, but I’m not falling for it.”

  “Hold on a second,” Bill said, lifting a finger into the air. “How about if we can prove it?”

  Richard shot him a questioning look. “We are NOT taking her to the park.”

  Bill shook his head. “We don’t have to.” He motioned toward the window with his head. “Remember the one that ran into the side of the Jeep? He was covered in blood and kept trying to bite the window.”

  “You could have hit an animal,” Harriet said. “A deer or a raccoon, or…”

  “Deer don’t have human hands,” Bill said. “This guy kept scratching at the glass trying to get in,” he stated matter-of-factly.

  Harriet glanced at Richard who was nodding and smiling at Bill. She turned and stared at Bill. “You two hit a man with your car, then come here with that kind of story?” She stared at the pair, shaking her head. “You’re both sick.”

  Bill turned to Richard and shrugged. “Is she always like this?”

  Richard shook his head. “No. I think it’s denial.”

  “You want me to suddenly believe in zombies and that Yellowstone is crawling with them and we have to run for our lives and I’m the one who isn’t in touch with reality?�
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  She nearly jumped when Jason tugged at her shirt. “Gram? That weird man is back. He’s at the front window, and he doesn’t look right,” he said.

  Bill glanced at Richard and pushed passed Harriet who was now babbling something about shooting neighbors. Richard shot past her as he fell into step behind Bill. Harriet marched behind Richard, complaining the entire way. “You will NOT shoot at somebody that we offered help to…” She trailed off as her eyes fell upon the man she had helped along the road. She noticed his eyes first, then the blood that soaked his neck and shirt. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

  The man at the window beat his hands against the glass when they entered the room and opened his mouth wide. The scream that came from his throat didn’t sound human and Jason quickly covered his ears. “Make him stop!”

  “I intend to.” Bill immediately stepped toward the back door. “Keep his attention on y’all,” he barked as he stepped out the back.

  Harriet turned to Richard, “What is he doing? Richard? What is he going to do?”

  Richard stared at her. “What do you think? He’s going to put him out of his misery.”

  “You can’t…” She turned and faced the man who was now snapping and biting at their images in the glass. His fingers, devoid of flesh, scraped along the glass as he tried to rip them from the smooth cage that separated him from his prey. “He can’t do this,” she whimpered. “He’s still a man.”

  “Not any longer.” Richard stepped closer to the window and pulled Harriet with him. “Look. Look at this and tell me that this is still a man.” The closer they got, the more agitated the man became. He snapped and bit at them more vigorously, the clicking from his teeth audible through the thick glass.

  Harriet looked at the thick brown slime he left behind on the glass and tears formed in her eyes. “He can’t be…” she sobbed.

  “He is.” Richard pushed her up to the glass. “You decide, Harriet. Either I’m crazy, or this guy is. Either you listen to me, or I open the door and let your new friend in for a cup of tea.”

  She snapped her head around and stared at him, his jaw set, his eyes hard. She knew in her heart he’d never do it, but she also knew what his statement meant. ‘Wake up and smell the coffee. This is the new reality.’

  Harriet felt her legs give out and she crumpled to the carpet, her hands covering her eyes as she sobbed. She only jumped slightly when Bill’s 9mm sounded outside their home and the screaming stopped.

  Jason turned around to look where the screaming man had once stood and saw an ugly brown splatter against the window. “Is he done?” he asked quietly.

  Richard smiled at his grandson. “I’m afraid so, Jake.”

  “Good,” Jason said. “His pain was hurting me.”

  Richard stared at the boy a moment. “His pain?” he asked. “Why would you say that?”

  Jason turned and looked up at his grandfather. “Couldn’t you feel his pain? That’s why he’s so angry. That’s why he wants to hurt everything,” Jason explained. “Something inside makes everything hurt. A lot.” He stepped away from the living room window and plopped back on the couch. “It would make you crazy, too.”

  “Colonel, your chopper is ready,” the young sergeant said as he handed the senior officer his briefcase.

  “Has Fort Collins called back?” He grabbed the case and his cover as he headed toward the door.

  “Negative, sir,” the sergeant stated as he fell into step behind the older man. “Duty Officer is on standing orders that any and all priority calls are to be routed to you while in flight, sir.”

  Colonel Vickers paused at the open doorway and checked his watch. It was a hell of an early start for this day. He sighed and looked back down the hallway. Major Chappell came around a corner and handed the colonel a large cup of coffee. “Sorry I’m late, sir.” She held open the door as he stepped through.

  “Chopper’s ready, Major,” Vickers said as he turned and headed to the helo pad. “Do we have boots ready to hit the ground?”

  “That’s affirmative, sir. They’re already in transit. A platoon of Army regulars, sir.”

  “Regulars?” Vickers paused and gave her a sidelong glance. “I thought all regular units were deployed.”

  “Not this unit, sir,” she informed him. “This is a ghost unit.”

  Vickers smiled. Nothing like bringing in the heavy guns for a cleanup operation. “ETA to Yellowstone?”

  “For us or for them, sir?”

  “Both,” Vickers clarified as he stepped up into the chopper, the whine of the engine beginning to be too loud to hear around.

  Both he and Chappell donned headsets and she adjusted her lip mic. “Ghost unit, designated Bravo Two should be boots down in less than an hour, sir. We should be landing in about forty-five minutes.”

  “Our accompaniment?”

  “I’ve arranged for a squad to provide security until the ghost platoon arrives. They’re designated Bravo One, since they are our primary security, and will be staying at the Forward Command Post,” she stated as she rifled through her papers. “We’ve designated the local Ranger Station to act as the FCP, since it is the most solid structure and seems to be near the primary.”

  “Very well, Major.” Vickers nodded and sipped at the coffee. He pulled out the sealed copy of his orders and thumbed through it. Shaking his head slowly, he handed the last three pages to Chappell. “Read and heed, Major.”

  “Sir?” She gave him an inquisitive look as she accepted the papers.

  “Private orders from the Joint Chiefs and the SecDef,” he said quietly. “Only you and I know about it, and these are to be destroyed upon reading.”

  She stared at him and shook her head. “I don’t understand, sir.”

  “Plausible deniability.” He stared straight ahead and avoided her gaze. “If the shit hits the fan, you and I get to be the fall guy.”

  “Oh.” She turned back to the papers and read through them quickly. “Well, doesn’t that just suck.”

  “Yes, it does,” he agreed. “However, if we pull this off, we both can look forward to very long and distinguished careers.” She glanced at him again and noticed no display of emotion.

  “Somehow, sir, your lack of enthusiasm doesn’t bode well for our success.”

  “It’s not our success that concerns me, Major. Of that, I have no doubt,” he stoically replied, finally turning and looking at her. “It’s the ramifications when we do succeed.”

  Chapter 2

  “I’m not going to say we’re screwed…,” Buck trailed off as he stared at the car blocking their path ahead.

  “But?” Skeeter added.

  “But things aren’t looking so great right about now,” he said just as the RV scraped along the side of one of the parked cars, jerking the huge motorcoach to the side and jarring Skeeter.

  “What do we do?” she asked as her head jerked from side to side.

  “Ram it,” Bob croaked from the bed.

  “What?” Skeeter turned back to him and drew closer.

  “Pull up to the rear bumper and push the car out of the way. This thing has enough power to pull a house down. Surely it can push a damned car,” Bob said as he began to cough.

  Skeeter turned to Buck. “Your dad said to push it out of the way. Pull up to it and just push it!” She reached for the bottle of water and lifted Bob’s head to it. She dribbled water into his open mouth, being careful not to spill it. “Slowly,” she urged as she kept turning her head to the front to watch Buck ease the huge RV to the dead car in the road.

  “Where do I push it to?”

  “Anywhere, just…out of the way,” Bob said.

  “He said anywhere out of the way. Just get us through!” Skeeter felt the thumps start hitting the back of the RV as enraged park dwellers began catching up to the slowed monstrosity of a motorcoach. “You better hurry!”

  Buck eased up to the car, then mashed the accelerator down, listening to the large diesel engine roar behind him. H
e glanced to the side mirror and saw black smoke belch from behind as the huge coach began pushing the much smaller stalled car down the road, its tires sliding in the gravel until its front fender met another parked car and the vehicle slid to the side. “It’s sliding sideways!” Buck called.

  “Gun it,” Bob said from the bed. “Keep it going.”

  “He said to gun it!” Skeeter yelled from his side. Bob winced at her shrill voice as the panic sent it up two octaves.

  “The pedal is to the floor!” Buck called back. He watched in amazement as the car, once wedged between two other parked cars, soon began scraping farther along, tearing huge chunks from the sheet metal bodies of the cheap, newer-minted autos.

  With a shriek, the front bumper gave and the dead car’s front end folded, rolling the auto in front of the coach and into the side of a pickup truck. The truck’s bed caved in as the car settled half on and half in the back of the truck as the huge motorcoach continued to push the two vehicles out of the way and off the roadway.

  Buck could feel the steering fight him as the coach’s own body snagged on the ragged sheet metal and dragged along as he pushed it past the wreckage. “We’re pushing through!”

  “We’re making it!” Skeeter bounced on the bed, causing Bob to wince.

  Bob moaned and reached a hand up to stop her. “Please. Celebrate up front.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.” She patted his shoulder as she got up to leave and Bob nearly pissed his pants as the pain shot down his shoulder and into his elbow. He grunted and nearly doubled over on the bed.

  Skeeter went forward and sat in the passenger seat, staring out the front while Buck tried to steer the house on wheels down the narrow road. “Watch for that station wagon.” Her finger pointed to a rusted hulk parked half in the road.

  “I’m doing my best here,” Buck said, his knuckles nearly white from gripping the wheel. “Are we losing them yet?” he asked, afraid to peel his eyes from the front.

  Skeeter leaned forward and stole a glance out the side mirror. She could see a few dark figures still chasing them, but the dust from the road made it impossible to tell just how close they were. “I can’t really tell.”