Read Voodoo Plague - 01 Online

Authors: Dirk Patton

Voodoo Plague - 01 (19 page)

 

 

 

 

 

 

31

 

 

“This is Max
broadcasting to tell you the truth about what’s going on in the world.” 

It was eight
days later and we were still anchored in the middle of the lake, resting and healing. 
I was up on the deck, enjoying some cool evening air when the voice cut through
the static of the portable radio.  I had taken to keeping the radio turned on
and tuned to the frequency that Max used and was so accustomed to hearing
nothing but static I didn’t immediately respond, but quickly scrambled to turn
up the volume and shouted for Rachel to come out and listen.  Moments later she
appeared in the door, finger holding her place in the trashy romance novel she
was still reading.

“There’s a lot
to tell you and I’ll get through the list in no particular order.  First of all
we’ve had to move camp several times to avoid large herds of infected.  I don’t
know why the infected are herding together, and none of my sources can tell me,
but I can say you should avoid the herds at all costs.  If they corner you they
won’t quit and they won’t leave until you’re dead.

“The remnants of
the federal government are in an undisclosed secure location.  I’ve got some
guesses on where that might be but I’m not gonna broadcast that info in case
there’s any bad guys listening.  Not that some politicians getting what they
deserve wouldn’t warm the cockles of my heart, but it would be
counter-productive at this point.

“I have
confirmation from a government source that the attacks on the US were initiated
by the Chinese.  They want our land and our natural resources.  That’s why they
haven’t sent any more nukes our way.  We did hit them with multiple nukes. 
Most of their major cities and military installations are destroyed and
casualty estimates are in the range of two hundred million dead and another
hundred million with lethal doses of radiation.  Sounds like a lot, but don’t
forget that there’s over a billion people in China.  Even if they lose another
half a billion there’s still more of them than there was of us before the
attacks.

“Both coasts of
the US are either nuclear wastelands or completely overrun with infected.  The
upper Midwest is in no better shape as well as the gulf coast states. 
Currently I’m being told that over two thirds of the remaining population in
the country has been affected by the nerve agent that was released.  Apparently
for the first forty eight hours the chemical was persistent and if an
uninfected person was even touched by an infected that was all it took to
infect them as well.  I’m also being told that there is a percentage of the
population that is immune to the nerve agent.  That’s about the only good news
at this point.  The infected are lethal, and will attack and kill any uninfected
person they encounter.

“These aren’t
zombies, folks.  They don’t have to be shot in the head to die.  However, they
seem to be able to ignore injuries and pain that would normally put a man
down.  I’ve seen infected take multiple bullets to the body and not even break
stride until their body finally realized it was dead.  Sometimes that can take
several minutes.  Heart shots and head shots are the only way to ensure an
infected goes down quickly. 

“Our friends in
the UK and Europe, even France if you can believe it, are trying to mobilize
military and humanitarian support for us, but the first convoy that headed out
into the Atlantic was attacked and sunk by Chinese subs.  Britain has
threatened China with nuclear retaliation if there is an attack on another
British ship.  The Chinese have not responded and it’s not clear who’s in
charge over there at the moment.  The Europeans have been bringing in food and
medical supplies on cargo planes.  With the east coast devastated they’re
coming further inland and staging into Nashville and Kansas City.  These are
the two largest cities left relatively intact and they’re also both on major
interstate highway routes and the Army and National Guard are doing all they
can to start these supplies moving out to areas where people need help.

“Finally, back
to the infected.  As I mentioned earlier we are seeing them congregate in herds
for unknown reasons.  As of yesterday there are massive herds moving north away
from the gulf coast and west away from the eastern seaboard.  The military is
making preparations west of the Appalachians and along the southern Tennessee
border to stop the infected from reaching the distribution center in
Nashville.  So far no herds have been spotted that threaten Kansas City.  If
you are south of Tennessee and trying to reach Nashville you need to hurry. 
The biggest herd is estimated to be four days away from Tennessee and once it
gets there no one will be able to get through.”

There was a
pause and rustle of papers.  Over the open mic Max could be heard taking a
drink of something then the click and rasp of a Zippo as he lit a cigarette.  A
long exhale later and he continued.

“That’s it, my
friends.  Don’t quit fighting and for God’s sake don’t start shooting people
because they look Chinese.  There’s a lot of Asian people in this country who
are as patriotic to the US of A as the rest of us.  Now if you see an Asian in
a uniform you don’t recognize, drill the little fucker!  Be safe, God Bless,
and God Bless America.”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

32

 

 

Rachel and I
looked at each other and her expression mirrored my thoughts.  “Oh, shit.”  I
said.

Over the past
week I’d been putting a lot of thought into how we would get to Arizona.  I’d
stared at maps for hours, made notes, calculated how fast we could move and
made lists of equipment we’d need to carry once we left the relative security
of the boat.  Rachel had asked to see what I was doing a couple of times, but
lost interest quickly and found something else to occupy herself.  I was
touched by the level of trust she was showing me, but then after what we’d been
through if we couldn’t trust each other now there was not much point in
continuing on together.

Even before
hearing Max’s broadcast I had already decided that our best route was to make
our way north to Nashville and pick up Interstate 40.  I-40 was like the belt
of the continental US, running coast to coast right through the middle of the
country.  As it got closer to the west coast it dipped down into New Mexico and
Arizona and ran within about 150 miles of my home where I had a continuing hope
that I would find Katie safe and sound and bored out of her mind.

All of our
weapons had been disassembled, checked, cleaned and were ready to go.  Our packs
were ready to grab and go at a moment’s notice and there wasn’t anything for us
to do to get ready to move except for me to dress.  I had been lounging in
nothing but boxers while I healed and I wasn’t necessarily looking forward to
putting pants back on.

Our immediate
plan was to use the boat to stay on the lake and river system we were currently
floating on to get west to Highway 27 which we would then follow up to
Chattanooga.  Chattanooga was on the southeastern border of Tennessee, and
while it would get us out of Georgia, it was still a long trek west to get to
Nashville which was pretty much in the middle of the state.  The sun was
setting and I didn’t want to try to navigate in the dark, but wanted to be
prepared to leave at first light. 

The maps I had
access to were road maps, not navigation maps, and I had no way of knowing if
the river we planned to use was large enough to support the big cabin cruiser. 
We needed a backup plan and I had just the idea.  Starting the engine I let it
idle to warm up while the electric motor whined as the anchor was reeled up
from the lake bottom.  Ready to go I bumped the throttle to its first stop and
spun the wheel to head for the cove where Dog and I had left the speedboat the
night of Rachel’s rescue.

The sound of the
engine and movement of the boat drew lots of attention from the infected on the
shoreline.  Their agitation was obvious even without using the binoculars and
screams from the females floated across the water to us.  Dog sat near the
stern watching them across the water and I wondered what thoughts were going
through his doggie mind. 

It only took a
few minutes to reach the cove.  The speedboat was exactly where I’d left it,
bobbing in the water at the end of its anchor rope.  Worried about running the
larger boat aground I cut the throttle then reversed for a moment to kill our
momentum, coming to a stop a hundred feet or so from the speedboat. 

“Where do you
think you’re going?” Rachel asked when she saw me heading for the stern rail
where the small swim platform allowed easy access to the water.  I paused and
looked up at the flying bridge where she stood with hands on hips.

I started to
open my mouth to reply but she cut me off.  “I know.  You were going to swim
over and get the speedboat.  Did it occur to you how many bacteria are in the
lake water that will soak into your wounds?  I didn’t work like a mad woman
saving your life to lose you now.  Get out of the way.”

Rachel had made
her speech while climbing down the short ladder to the deck.  She pushed past
me, pulled her T shirt over her head, kicked off her boots, striped her pants
off and dove into the lake.  She surfaced moments later and started swimming to
the speedboat with long, graceful strokes.  I shook my head and watched her
swim across the darkening water.

Dog was still
sitting by the stern rail and started whining when Rachel was half way to the
boat.  A few seconds later I heard the screams as several females appeared on
the muddy shoreline of the small cove.  The wake from the cabin cruiser had
caused the speedboat to pivot around its anchor point and I realized that I had
left too much slack in the anchor line.  The stern of the boat was pointing
directly into the cove and was maybe a dozen feet from the shoreline. I shouted
for Rachel to turn back, but she couldn’t hear me over her own splashing. 

I watched in
horror as first one, then another female took a running leap in an attempt to
reach the speedboat.  Neither made it, both splashing into the lake a couple of
feet short, but the cove wasn’t deep and they were both able to stand on the
lake bottom and start wading out to meet Rachel at the boat.

Motherfucker!  I
grabbed my rifle and climbed the ladder to the bridge as fast as my healing
body would allow.  On the bridge I dropped to a knee, ignoring the protest from
my chest, and rested my arm on the bridge railing as it supported the rifle. 
We were losing light fast, but the low magnification scope amplified what light
there was well enough for me to sight my targets.

Just before I
fired I noted that Rachel had reached the bow of the speedboat and was pulling
herself along the side rail, intending to use the swim platform at the stern to
climb aboard. 

“Rachel! 
Infected in the water!”  I screamed at the top of my voice.

Rachel turned
and looked at me, obviously hearing my scream but not understanding the words. 
She saw me aiming the rifle and understanding dawned on her face and she
started to push away from the boat just as a hand broke the surface of the
water, grabbed a fistful of her hair and took her under.

I cursed, then
reacquired my target and started shooting.  The head of the female I had the
best line of sight on exploded when the military caliber round punched through
and I shifted aim to another floundering infected.  My first shot missed, but
my follow on shot took off the top of her head.

That was all the
visible females in the water, and I paused, holding my breath.  Finally, with
an explosion of water Rachel and the infected female broke the surface, locked
in battle.  Rachel had two fists full of her hair so she could keep the
snapping jaws away from her face and neck.  The infected struggled, clawing and
whipping her head side to side in attempts to break Rachel’s grip. 

I sighted in on
Rachel’s attacker, taking a deep breath as I tracked its head in the rifle’s
scope.  It was a high risk shot, but there was nothing else I could do. As my
finger tightened on the trigger I heard more splashes and shifted my eyes to
see two more females wading through the water towards Rachel.  I quickly took
each of them out with head shots.  By the time I moved aim back to Rachel, she
and the infected were under the water again.  Maintaining my aim I waited.  And
waited.  And waited.

I was starting
to fear the worst when once again they breached the surface.  Rachel still had
one fist wrapped in the infected’s hair, but her other arm was now locked
straight out with her hand gripping its throat.  I placed the scope’s red dot
on the face of the infected, paused a moment to make sure I was adjusting with
their motion, then squeezed the trigger as I said a small prayer.

The head snapped
back as the bullet punched through, a spray of blood and brains fanning out
across the lake’s surface.  The infected went limp in Rachel’s arms and she
shoved the corpse away from her and nearly leapt out of the water into the
speedboat’s cockpit.  The anchor came up quickly with a manual winch, then
nothing.  I hadn’t told Rachel where I had hidden the keys.

In the meantime
more infected had arrived on the shoreline and I quickly picked them off before
they could start wading out.  Standing up I grabbed a bench cushion and raised
it over my head for Rachel to see.  It took a few tries before she got the
message and started throwing cushions around until she found the keys.  The
speedboat started easily and less than a minute later Rachel cut the motors as
she drifted up to the stern of the cabin cruiser.  I met her at the rail and
tied the smaller boat off to a cleat so we could tow it with the larger boat.

I reached out a
hand and helped Rachel cross the open water between the two boats and pulled
back a handful of blood.  Rachel was missing most of the ring finger on her
left hand and it was bleeding profusely.  I grabbed a towel and helped her wrap
it up.

“What happened? 
Did she bite it off?”  I asked, leading her into the salon so I could
administer some first aid.

I was surprised
to hear Rachel laugh in response.  “No.  Somebody needs to work on their aim.”

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