Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12 (20 page)

“Don’t.  Fucking.  Move.”  I said slowly.

This time, the message got through.  He lay on the
ground, cactus needles poking out of his leg and sweat pouring off his face,
but he didn’t move another inch.  I stared at him, trying to decide what
to do.

There was no way this guy was a soldier.  For
anyone.  He had to be a civilian survivor.  Frankly, that conclusion
was the only thing that was keeping me from just shooting him and getting on
with my day.

“Now,
very slowly
, you’re going to remove that pistol
and toss it deep into the hedge.  Don’t forget there’s a rifle aimed at
your head and my finger is on the trigger.  If the muzzle of that pistol
even starts to swing my way, I’ll put you down.  Got it?”

“I got it,” he said, his voice quavering. 
“Please.  Don’t shoot.”

He followed my instructions, or close enough.  The
pistol actually wound up on the ground on the far side of the hedge, but for
the moment that was fine with me.  Standing, I kept the rifle trained on
him.  Every instinct was to scan my surroundings for danger, but I wasn’t
about to take my attention off the man.

“Come on out of there and…”

His eyes suddenly snapped to the left, looking past me,
growing wide with fear.  Screams from several infected females tore
through the air a fraction of a second later.  

I didn’t like the idea of turning my back on this guy, but I
didn’t have a choice.  There were numerous voices screaming out their
rage, and they sounded close.  Too damn close.

Spinning, I brought the rifle on target and immediately
fired.  A young female, wearing an Air Force uniform, flopped dead in the
parking lot.  The group was close, and there were too many for me to stand
my ground.  I had to retreat and fire at the same time.  The problem
with that was the three-foot-tall hedge behind me.

Getting over it would waste precious seconds I didn’t
have.  The females would be able to close too much distance while I was hopping
my happy ass over to the far side.  Very aware of my limited supply of
ammo, I clicked the rifle’s selector and aimed for their legs.  My best
option was to slow them down.

I raked fire across the charging infected, destroying knees
and shattering femurs.  It would have been nice if this did anything more
than slow them down, but it didn’t.  As soon as a female tumbled to the
ground, no longer able to run, the bitch would start pulling herself along the
ground with her arms.  And they weren’t exactly slow without their legs,
either.

Dropping an empty magazine, I slapped in a new one and fired
two more bursts which put the last pair on their faces.  Clicking into single
shot mode, I had to step back to avoid the swipe of a claw-like hand.  I
fired a round into her head, then moved around the perimeter of the group and
delivered multiple coup de gras with my knife.  I didn’t have enough ammo
left to shoot all of them.

Their determination to reach me never wavered.  This
was one of those times I would have appreciated the more intelligent ones who
had demonstrated a fear of weapons.  But, at least they were all on the ground,
and I didn’t have to worry about any escapees stalking me once the battle was
over. 

When I killed the last one, I whipped around to face the
sniper and came face to face with the muzzle of his pistol.  Instead of
helping with the fight, the fucker had jumped the hedge and retrieved his
weapon to use on me.

I let the rifle hang from its sling, freeing up my hands,
and stared into his eyes.  And didn’t like what I saw.  He might not
be trained, but he sure as hell looked determined.  There was fear
visible, but it wasn’t paralyzing him or even weakening his resolve.

“Don’t move,” he said, his voice breathy from a pounding
heart.

“What are you going to do?  Shoot me?” 

His eyes widened in surprise when I spoke.

“You
are
an American,” he blurted.  “I wasn’t
sure I heard right before.”

“No shit,” I said, lacing it with heavy sarcasm.  “What
were you expecting?”

“Russian,” he said, squinting at me. 

The pistol was still aimed at my face, and I had grown tired
of playing with this asshole.

“US Army,” I said, lowering my voice and glaring at
him.  “You aren’t military.  I can tell that much.  Now, lower
your fucking weapon.”

He stared at me for a long moment, then shook his head. 
That was when I moved.  The pistol was in his right hand.  My left
hand shot out and grasped the weapon between the trigger guard and the muzzle,
pushing it out of alignment with my head.  At the same time, I struck the
inside of his wrist with the heel of my other hand.  I had a firm grip on
his gun, and it neatly popped out of his hand before he could tighten his
finger on the trigger.

He had half a second to stare at me in shock before I landed
a solid right hand in the center of his face.  I felt his nose, and maybe
a couple of teeth, crunch, then he stumbled backward and fell on his ass. 
His glasses flew off, and he sat there looking at me with blood pouring across
his chin and onto his chest.

Dropping the magazine, I racked the slide to eject the round
in the chamber.  The brass glittered briefly in the sun as it tumbled
through the air.  Pistol empty, I shoved it into my waistband. 

“How the fuck have you survived this long?  You’re
about as stupid as a bag of hammers.”

I stood over him, glaring.  He held his nose with one
hand, trying to stem the flow of blood, and glared back.  With his other,
he picked up his glasses and put them on.

Taking a step away, I looked around to make sure there weren’t
any more infected charging in on the party.  Seeing nothing, I pushed the
radio into my ear and called Rachel, telling her to come outside.

“Are you really the Army?”  The guy on the ground
asked.

“Told you I was, didn’t I?  What the hell did you think
you were doing, you stupid fuckstick?  Hiding there with a rifle, waiting
for us to come out of the hospital?  You’re goddamn lucky all I did was
punch you in the nose!”

“Didn’t know who you were,” he said.  “We’ve been
hiding in one of the houses here on base since the Russians left.”

“We?  Who’s we?”

His eyes told me he’d let some information slip that he
would have preferred to keep from me.

“I meant me,” he said quickly.  “I’m all alone.”

“I’ll hit you again if you keep lying to me,” I said.

He watched me closely as if trying to decide if I was
telling the truth. While he was thinking about what I’d said, Rachel, Tiffany
and Dog came jogging up.  Dog stopped next to my left leg, staring at the
man on the ground.  He didn’t growl, but his upper lip curled back,
revealing a pretty intimidating set of teeth.  The guy’s full attention
shifted to Dog, and he shrank away.

Rachel stood next to me and looked down at the man before
turning and checking the area around us.  I glanced over my shoulder to
see Tiffany staring at the females I’d killed.  I focused back on the man,
then shook my head again. 

We needed to go, but our ammo situation was now even more
critical than it had been.  I should be able to find some, somewhere on
the sprawling air base.  But, I didn’t want this guy going and getting
whoever he was hiding out with and coming after us.  We definitely weren’t
in a position to fight another battle at the moment.

“OK,” I finally said to the guy.  “It’s your business
what you’re doing, as long as you don’t interfere with us.  We just
stopped off for supplies, then we’ll be on our way.”

The surprise on his face was immediate.  I had no doubt
he’d been sitting there, expecting to die.  And, to tell the truth, the
thought had crossed my mind.  I couldn’t get a read on him, which bothered
me.  He had been stupid, there was no doubt about that.  And his
stupidity had put him into the very small club of people who have pointed a
weapon at me and lived to tell the story.

Still, something just didn’t sit right.  A guy like
this just shouldn’t still be alive.  Shouldn’t have been able to survive
all the predators in the world, both infected and uninfected.  Yet, here
he was, staring up at me with blood covering his face and chest.  For a
moment I seriously considered just putting a bullet in his head and getting on
with things.  All that saved him was Rachel and Tiffany’s presence. 
I didn’t want to put him down in front of them.  Rachel might understand,
but Tiffany?  I didn’t need the problems.

“On your feet,” I said.

“Why?  What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing, if you do as your told,” I said.  “Now, get
off your ass and show me where the closest armory is.”

Slowly he stood and dusted off the seat of his pants before
delicately pulling the cactus needles out of his leg. 

Half an hour later we drove out of the main gate and turned
west, heading for the highway that would take us to Mexico.  We were
loaded up with ammo, and a few other little toys I’d found in the armory the
man had taken us to. 

I hadn’t learned anything about him, but hadn’t pressed the
issue.  Once I’d gotten him on his feet, I thoroughly searched him and we’d
piled into the Tahoe.  I’d put him in the cargo area, and Dog had sat in
the back seat, facing to the rear to keep an eye on him.  He hadn’t asked
us any questions, and when Rachel had tried to find out more about him, he’d
just looked away and kept his mouth tightly shut.

That was fine with me.  I had several theories rolling
around in my head about him, but since he was cooperating, I decided to let him
keep his secrets.  He’d only spoken to give me directions to the armory,
and when we arrived, I found the door had been forced open already. 
Expecting to find it cleaned out, I was pleasantly surprised when we entered
and found it well stocked. 

It seemed as if a few crates of ammo and some rifles and
pistols were missing, but without an inventory sheet, there was no way to
know.  Regardless, it didn’t matter.  I put a crate of ammo into the
back of the Tahoe, then another of empty magazines and told Tiffany to start
loading them.  While she worked and Rachel kept watch on the man and our
surroundings, I went back inside.

I found some fragmentation grenades, pistol ammo and loaded
up a small ammo can with smoke grenades.  The real prize was an M249 light
machine gun, or SAW (Squad Assault Weapon).  It fires the same round as an
M4 rifle, but from a linked belt of ammunition and can make all the difference
in the world in a firefight.  One of the best things is that it can be
carried and fired like a rifle in a pinch, even though it’s a little heavy and
cumbersome. 

After it was loaded into the Tahoe, I added half a dozen
crates of ammo belts and closed the rear door.  The man was standing a few
yards away, watching me nervously.  He was probably expecting a bullet, or
for me to sick Dog on him.  I probably would have been having the same
thoughts if I were in his shoes.

Reaching inside the SUV, I brought out his rifle, and after
making sure it was empty, walked over and handed it and his pistol to
him.  He tentatively took them, watching me closely as if he expected it
was a trick.

“If you’re smart, you’ll go in there and get yourself an M4
and a bunch of ammo.  That bolt action deer rifle is only good if you want
to play sniper.”

He stared back at me without saying anything, finally
nodding as I backed away and waved Rachel and Dog into the Tahoe. 

“What do you think his story was?”  Rachel asked as I
steered around a smashed city bus.

I shrugged.

“Whatever it is, it’s amazing he’s made it this long.”

“So, those infected,” Rachel said.

“What about them?”

“We haven’t seen any all the way into town.  The base
seemed empty, then they showed up out of nowhere.  Doesn’t that strike you
as odd?”

“It does,” I said.  “And look around us. 
None.  This is the first time we’ve been in a city of any size that there
wasn’t a greeting party.”

“Does that mean anything?”

I shrugged my shoulders, again.  Yes, it was bothering
me, but we didn’t have any information that would let us even begin to come up
with a theory.

“Did you notice they were all wearing Air Force uniforms?”
Tiffany asked from the back seat.

I glanced at her in the mirror.  Her head was down as
she continued to load magazines.

“I did, yes.”

“Makes me think they were trapped in one of the buildings
and got out,” she said. 

“Or someone let them out,” Rachel offered.

“Not our problem,” I said.  “Not anymore, at
least.  For now, we’ve got to haul ass for Mexico.  It’s going to be
dark by the time we get to Puerto Penasco.”

“Are we going to start searching tonight?”  Rachel
asked.

“No.”  I shook my head.  “Going to be hard enough
to find him in the daytime.  We’ll get some rest when we get there, then
find a boat in the morning and head out.”

Rachel sat there thinking about that.  From the back seat,
I could hear a rhythmic clicking as Tiffany continued to work.  Dog sat on
the seat next to her, watching every movement.  If you didn’t know him,
you might think he was fascinated by what she was doing.  I knew he was
just waiting for an opportunity to lie down and put his head in her lap.

“How would the Navy find him, if they could get
there?”  Rachel asked after several more minutes.

“He’ll have an EPIRB,” I said, referring to an Emergency
Position Indicating Radio Beacon.  “They’d put up a couple of helicopters
and home in on the signal.”

“OK, yeah.  The Navy pilot I went down with in Idaho
had one of those sewn into his flight suit.”

“Did he have a strobe of any kind?”  I asked, an idea
taking shape.

“Not that I saw,” Rachel said after thinking for a
moment.  “Why?”

“Because this guy’s supposedly on a small inflatable raft
that was built into his ejection seat.  And, it seems to me, it would make
sense for there to be an infrared strobe as part of the raft that would
activate when it inflated.”

“You think?”  Rachel asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.  “Maybe.  Naval aviation
is a whole different world than what I ever operated in.  But, it makes
sense.  Think about it.  A rescue helo responds to the general
location of an EPIRB signal at night.  If the ocean is rough, its got to
be a bitch to find a tiny little raft amidst all the waves.  But, if
there’s an IR strobe flashing away, it’ll be very easy to spot with their night
vision.”

“So, he might actually be easier to find in the dark?” 
Rachel asked.

“Maybe,” I said.  “I wish Lieutenant Sam was
here.  He’d know the answer.”

“Should we take the chance and go out tonight?”

“Probably,” I said, turning the idea over in my head. 
“I’ll decide by the time we get there.”

We fell silent at that point, each lost in our own
thoughts.  There was only the sound of the tires on asphalt, and the
clicking of ammunition going into magazines.  I concentrated on my
driving, pushing our speed up at every opportunity.

Reaching a small state highway, I turned south, heading for
Interstate 10.  Once there, we’d follow it a short distance west, then
turn south onto the road that would take us to Mexico and on to Puerto
Penasco.  There was only one town still to pass through, Gila Bend,
Arizona, and I hoped it was as empty of infected as the Phoenix area had been.

“Ever been to this place before?”  Rachel asked after
we were on I-10.

“Puerto Penasco?”

She nodded.

“Lots of times,” I said, my chest tightening as a flood of
memories came rushing in.  “It’s called Rocky Point in Arizona.”

“Vacation spot?”

“Yeah,” I said, my voice husky.  “Big party spot for
people in Arizona.  It’s an easy drive from Phoenix.  We used to go
down there all the time.  Camp out on the beach and get drunk and set off
fireworks.  There're some pretty good bars in town, too.  And, go
down the right time of year and you can buy fresh caught shrimp right off the
fishing boats.  We’d bring pounds of it home and spend a whole day having
a shrimp boil.”

“So this was a good part of Mexico?”

I snorted at that.

“Well, it kind of was.  You still had to be careful and
pay attention to your surroundings.  But at least then, pretty much the
worst thing that would happen was you’d get robbed.  We quit going several
years ago.  Same problems as everywhere along the border.  I didn’t
feel like going into a war zone for a vacation.  Kind of a shame.  We
had some really good times there.”

By this time, we had reached the highway that cut due south
to the border, and I made the transition to it.  The sun was low, and it
was maybe an hour before it would dip below the mountains to our west. 
Tiffany had completed loading every one of the magazines and was dozing with
her head tilted back.  Dog had stretched his head into her lap and was
snoring so loud I couldn’t imagine how the girl was sleeping.

We breezed through Gila Bend twenty minutes later.  It
was just like Kingman and Phoenix.  Devoid of any activity.  I had to
slow slightly for several wrecks, but the road was surprisingly clear. 
Passing beneath Interstate 8, I pushed our speed up again.  Less than an
hour later, light quickly fading, I slowed as we approached the border crossing
into Mexico.

Several small buildings had constituted the sum of both the
American and Mexican presence at the portal.  And they had all
burned.  Debris from the fire and a couple of gutted Border Patrol
vehicles completely blocked the pavement.  Slowing more, I shifted the
Tahoe into four-wheel drive and plowed through the soft sand to the side,
bypassing the wreckage.

A hundred yards into Mexico, we bounced back onto pavement. 
There were several small towns that had grown up on the southern side of the
border, and we had to pass through them.  The light was almost gone, and I
elected to use my night vision for driving, rather than turn on the SUV’s
headlights.  Driving slowly, we began passing a huge variety of shops that
lined the highway, solely to serve American tourists on their way to Rocky
Point and beyond.

Less than half a mile into the first town, we began
encountering females.  Responding to the noise our vehicle was making,
they emerged from within businesses and homes that either no longer had a door,
or the door was standing open.  Some of them stood and watched us pass,
while others charged at full speed to slam into the front and sides of the
Tahoe.

The impacts were brutal, and I was worrying about the
vehicle’s ability to withstand the onslaught.  As badly as I wanted to
accelerate and get out into the open desert, I forced myself to hold our speed
at a sedate pace.  Too fast and all of the bodies could damage the Chevy
to the point that we’d be stuck.

Though she wasn’t voicing it, Tiffany was freaking out in
the back seat.  In concert with nearly every blow from a female, I could
hear a small gasp of fright escape her mouth.  She was breathing hard,
panting even, as if she’d just run a race.  I risked a glance in the
mirror, seeing that she had her arms tightly wrapped around Dog’s neck, her
face pressed against him for comfort.

“You notice the smart ones?”  Rachel asked.

“The ones just standing back and watching?  Yeah, I saw
‘em.”

“What do we do if it’s like this when we get to Rocky
Point?  There’s too many for us to fight through and find a boat.”

“Deal with it when we get there,” I said through gritted
teeth.

I yanked the wheel to avoid four females who suddenly
charged from behind a building and were on a direct path for our front
bumper.  The maneuver was mostly successful, avoiding three of them, but
the other one made a mighty leap and landed on the hood.

For a moment, it seemed as if she paused to stare at me
through the windshield.  I couldn’t see the red eyes, colors not coming
through in the NVGs, but I could clearly make out the mask of rage that
distorted her features.  With a scream, she pulled on the edge of the hood
and lifted her hand to smash the glass separating us.

In slow motion, I saw something in her hand.  A rock
large enough to shatter the only thing protecting us from her.  As she
began the blow, I jammed my foot on the brakes.  The nose of the Tahoe dipped,
and everyone was thrown forward, equipment in the cargo area loudly clanging as
it shifted.

The female was caught off-guard.  With only one hand
grasping the hood, she was thrown free before the rock could contact the
windshield.  The instant she disappeared, I hit the gas, and the engine
roared as we surged forward and bounced over her body.  She had still been
tumbling on the asphalt, not having had time to regain her feet.

There was a loud bang from the back, then the sound of
breaking glass.  Rachel whipped around in her seat, cursing when her rifle
barrel got stuck on the center console.  Jerking it free, she thrust it
over the rear seat, ready to fight.

I looked in the mirror, seeing that the back window was
shattered, but still held mostly in place by the layer of plastic that made it
safety glass.  A female running behind us had apparently been able to
catch up when I braked hard to lose the one on the hood.  She was still
right there, preparing to hit the undamaged part of the window with a rock.

“Don’t fire!”  I shouted, jamming the accelerator to
the floor.

The Tahoe surged, the female missing us and screaming in
frustration as we pulled away.  Keeping our speed up, I did my best to
avoid the charging infected while swerving around debris and wrecked vehicles
that were on the road.

“What the hell?”  Rachel said when she turned to face
forward.  “We haven’t seen that before!”

“They’re getting smarter,” I said.  “We’d better
remember that when we’re on foot.”

I pushed on and fortunately, it didn’t take long to pass out
of the last small town and into the desert.  The really good news was that
we left all of the females behind.  Holding our speed down, I drove
several miles before pulling to a stop in the middle of the road.

“What are you doing?”  Rachel asked, looking around in
alarm.

“Making sure we didn’t take any damage before I push our
speed up,” I said, popping my door open and stepping out into the night.

Dog jumped onto my seat, then followed me out.  While I
scanned a full circle with the night vision goggles, he raised his nose to test
the breeze.  Immediately he began growling.  I checked him, and he
was facing into the wind, which was coming from the direction of the
towns.  He smelled the infected we’d just driven through.  I hoped.