Recovery: V Plague Book 8 (17 page)

Lucas had
been shocked to hear from John.  The Australian media had been consistently
reporting that other than Russia, Hawaii, Australia and a few isolated islands
scattered across the south Pacific the world had been reduced to a wasteland,
inhabited only by the infected.

He knew that
wasn’t entirely accurate from speaking with mates who were still on active duty
with the Regiment.  A lot of the US Navy was still able to fight, as were small
pockets of the military still within the continental United States.  He just
had no idea that John Chase was one of those still alive and fighting, but when
he thought about it he wasn’t terribly surprised.  The man he’d known was war
incarnate when he wanted to be.

There had
been mass panic and rioting in Australia as people had learned of what was
happening in the world.  Unfortunately there had been many reported cases of
people shooting and killing friends, neighbors and even family members over
something as simple as a sneeze.  Everyone was terrified the infection would
reach their geographically protected home.

The
Americans still alive in Hawaii had delivered a vaccine and the government had
pulled out all the stops to immediately start mass production.  The PM went on
television and announced that there would be mandatory vaccinations of the
entire population.

People began
lining up at hospitals, medical offices and health centers before the vaccine
was even available.  But there were some that refused, either on religious
grounds or mistrust of the government and fear over what was actually in the
inoculation.  Anyone who refused was rounded up and quarantined in several
hastily erected camps around the continent.  All they had to do to leave was accept
the vaccination.

Australia
was surviving.  Rationing was the word of the day, and while the citizens were
grumbling they well understood the necessity.  Fuel had become precious as
pre-attack the country had imported almost ninety percent of the oil it
consumed. 

Living far
from civilization, Lucas felt fortunate he had installed large underground fuel
tanks several years ago so he would always have a good supply on hand for his
vehicles and small plane.  He had received a delivery of fuel that had topped
them off a week before the attacks on America.

He had
immediately placed a call as soon as he finished speaking with his old friend. 
Dialing the number from memory he hadn’t been surprised when the duty officer
at the SAS barracks in Swanbourne picked up on the first ring.  The man didn’t
know Lucas personally but he knew of him and quickly transferred the call to
Lucas’ former commanding officer.  The call woke Captain Reginald White, and he
came instantly alert as Lucas filled him in. 

“I know of
it,” he said, referring to the CIA listening post that had been established
with the cooperation of the Australian government.  “It’s in Moonyoonka.”

“Where the
bloody hell is that, sir?”

“A few
kilometers east of Geraldton.  North of here, up the coast.”

“I know
Geraldton, sir.  I’m on my way there, then.  I wanted you to know.”  Lucas
said.

“If you
don’t mind, Staff Sergeant, the lads and I could use a little trip to the
country.  Perhaps we shall meet you at the Geraldton airport.  When do you
think you might be arriving?”  White had spent a lot of time with the British
and had picked up on their manner of speaking.

“Six to
seven hours, sir.  Depending on the winds.” 

“Very good. 
Until then,” he said and disconnected the call.

Lucas closed
his phone and trotted into the large house, heading for the basement.

“What are
you on about?”  His wife, Ziggi, asked, following him down the stairs.  “And
who’s calling you in the middle of the bloody night?”

As he
changed clothes and packed a duffel with weapons and ammunition, Lucas
explained to her what was going on.  She knew who John Chase was, resisting the
name for her new son until Lucas had explained why he wanted it.

“He’s still
alive?  That’s bloody amazing!”  She said, shaking her head.

She cocked
an ear when Little John began wailing again.  Stepping forward she grabbed her
husband in a tight embrace and kissed him before turning and heading for the
stairs.

“Just be
sure you get your arse home in one piece,” she said then was gone in a swirl of
satin nightclothes.

Lucas smiled
briefly then got his war face on and made a quick check of the gear he had
packed.  Satisfied he was ready, he tromped up the stairs with the heavy duffel
and stopped in the kitchen.  He brewed a strong cup of coffee in a few minutes,
wolfing down a peanut butter sandwich while the machine hissed and burbled.

Coffee in an
insulated travel mug, he stepped out the back door, made sure it was locked and
dumped his bag on the luggage rack of a battered ATV.  It started easily enough
and he bounced across a couple of acres of his land to a large barn where he
stored a twin-engine plane.  A dirt runway was carved out of the red Aussie
dirt, a white windsock on a tall pole a few yards from the barn.  He didn’t
need to check to know there was no wind to worry about for takeoff.

Wheeling the
barn doors open he tossed the bag in a small luggage compartment and reached
into the cockpit to put his mug into a cup holder.  A quick walk around of the
aircraft and he was ready to go. 

Starting the
engines he let them idle for a minute, keeping a sharp eye on the instruments
that monitored their health.  It was a warm night and they quickly came up to
operating temperature.  Advancing the throttles he rolled the plane out of the
barn, flipping on the brilliant landing lights mounted in the leading edges of
the wings.

Lining up on
the runway he stepped on the brakes and concentrated on the raw dirt ahead of
him.  He loved to fly and had no fear of planes, but a mate of his had been
landing at night a few months ago in the bush of Northern Australia.  A large
Kangaroo had hopped onto the dirt runway just as the plane’s tires touched the
ground.  Neither the Roo nor his mate had survived.

Satisfied
there was no wildlife in the way he shoved the throttles to the firewall and
bounced down the rough track.  The plane was powerful and soon he was pulling
back on the stick, quickly gaining altitude.  Australia is way too large and
empty for bush pilots to need to worry about filing a flight plan.  He wouldn’t
bother contacting an air controller until he was within an hour of Geraldton.

Katie and
Dog were settled and as long as they remained quiet I thought they’d be safe,
even from a stray bullet.  The boxes were heavy, filled with stacks of tightly
folded denim jeans.  I was hopeful that if things went really sideways the
multiple layers of tough fabric would stop a round.

The HINDs
had roared overhead at high speed and I was confident that my ruse had worked. 
They had lost access to the satellite imagery and were continuing on in the
last direction they had seen me traveling.  But how long before they realized
they were pursuing nothing and came back to Dodge City?  It wasn’t much of a
stretch to think they would figure it out.

Moving
through the store I pushed out into the bright afternoon.  A run down two-story
office building was across the street from the department store and that’s
where I’d already decided to wait for them.  If necessary I could draw them
away from Katie’s hiding place.  If they caught me, well I’d lie my ass off and
tell them she was dead, killed by an infected.

Maybe they’d
believe me, maybe not.  But soldiers are the same everywhere.  None of us like
to search buildings for an enemy in hiding.  That is probably one of the most
dangerous activities one can undertake.  Your target has the advantage of
already having taken up a position where they can sit and wait, nice and
quiet.  You, on the other hand, have to move, checking every little nook and
cranny and hoping you don’t get shot in the back of the head as you walk past
their hiding place.

I was
counting on being able to convince them there was no need to search farther. 
If they actually got their hands on me, that is.   They would want to believe
me.  Want to get the hell out of Dodge, no pun intended, without starting a
building-to-building search.  But I may have been being too optimistic.

There was
little doubt that each of the Russian helos was loaded down with Spetsnaz
troops.  They would be every bit as skilled as I was, and probably just as
motivated to do their jobs and do them well.  They wouldn’t be Special Forces
if they weren’t.  The best-case scenario would be if I could stay hidden until
they reached the conclusion that I wasn’t in the area.

If both
HINDs were fully loaded that would mean sixteen soldiers on the ground.  A lot
against just me but not very many to start clearing buildings.  Dodge City
wasn’t a large town by any means, but it was large enough to swallow up sixteen
men on foot.  To mount an effective search they really needed twenty times that
many as well as ground support vehicles.

The front
door of the office building was locked up tight and I didn’t want to blast it
open with my rifle and leave evidence that I’d broken in.  Moving around the
side I froze when I spotted four males slowly bumping along amongst some parked
cars.  They hadn’t heard or smelled me and were far enough away that I didn’t
feel the need to put them down.

They were
moving slowly, away from the building, and I gave them a few minutes to open
some room before proceeding to the back wall.  Another alley ran behind the
buildings.  Pausing, I poked my head around the corner, not pleased when I saw
three females.  Fortunately they were moving down the alley away from me. 

I quickly
checked on the males but they were continuing on their path.  The females were
far enough away that I could have probably slipped into the alley and found a
door without them noticing, but I couldn’t count on whatever entrance I did
find being unlocked.  So I stayed right where I was, head constantly swiveling
as I kept an eye on all of the infected as well as the entire area around me.

The town was
deathly quiet, the sighing of a stiff wind the only sound other than the
occasional bump of a male as he made his way through the parked vehicles.  I
was listening hard, afraid that at any moment I’d hear the sound of heavy
helicopter rotors approaching and would be forced to move before I was ready.

If that
happened there were reasonable odds the females would notice me and come
charging.  I didn’t want to leave bodies on the ground or a pack of infected
pounding on a door I’d gone through.  Either would be like a neon sign to the
Russians telling them to check that specific building first.

But then,
maybe our theory was all wrong and they were just going on some unrelated
mission that happened to bring them across our path.  Yeah, right.  And
tomorrow I was going to wake up at home in bed with Katie and find out this
whole thing had been a dream.

Standing
there, waiting for the infected to clear the area, I tried to think of a way I
could use them against the Russians.  But every idea I came up with was quickly
dismissed.  The females finally turned a corner and after a last check on the
status of the males I slipped into the alley and moved along the back of the
office building.

A plain,
steel door was set into the block construction of the wall and the knob turned
freely in my hand.  Pulling the door open slowly I looked through the opening
from the side, rifle up and ready to fire if anything moved.  It wasn’t well
lit inside the room but there was enough light leaking in from the windows
facing the street for me to be able to thoroughly scan without needing the
night vision scope.

The walls
were lined with cheap plastic shelving, which sagged under the weight of the
boxes stored on them.  Other than that the room was empty.  Stepping inside, I
quietly pulled the door closed behind me.  Keeping my attention to my front I
fumbled behind me until finding the deadbolt and engaging it, then setting the
lock in the knob.

Walking
deeper into the building I wished for Dog, wanting his nose to warn me of any
infected that might be lying in wait.  But it was just me, on my own, so I
moved forward very slowly.  I spent ten minutes satisfying myself that I was
alone on the first floor before climbing the creaking stairs to check the upper
level.

By the time
I reached the second floor landing any infected in the building would have been
waiting for me.  Every tread of the staircase had creaked and popped as I’d
climbed.  The sounds were loud in the quiet of the abandoned building.

Even though
it should have alerted anyone or anything and brought them running to
investigate, I still exercised the same caution in clearing the upper level as
I had the one below.  Getting sloppy because you think there’s no danger when
you haven’t verified it’s clear is a great way to die young.  Once I was done,
without finding anything to cause me problems, I relaxed and lowered my rifle
on its sling.

The noise
the stairs produced when walked on determined that I would stay on the ground
floor.  They were just as noisy going down as they had been going up, and even
though I knew I was alone in the building I breathed a sigh of relief when I
reached the bottom. 

I spent a
few minutes checking out the businesses occupying the floor.  A small CPA’s
office took up the left rear corner, the front half of the level housing an
unidentifiable enterprise.  There were several desks, each with a phone and
stacks of papers, but I didn’t care enough to try and figure out what they did.

The entire
right half of the first floor was a small animal Veterinarian.  A long,
laminate counter separated the entrance from two small exam rooms and the
slightly larger storage area I’d entered through.  The reception counter was
chest high, probably so dogs couldn’t jump over it, and there was a small gate
that prevented open access between the public and private areas of the office.

I settled
into an office chair, pulling the lever and lowering it with a hiss of the
pneumatic cylinder.  With the seat all the way down I was able to sit
comfortably and see over the counter and through the front windows.  I had an
unobstructed view of the department store where I’d left Katie and Dog.

Several stand-up
cardboard displays lined the surface of the counter and I arranged them to
provide more concealment from anyone looking in.  They marketed personalized
tags for dogs and cats, microchips to identify your pet, a brand of pet food
I’d never heard of and one of them sold a variety of different colored dog
whistles.  I glanced at each, returning my attention to the street, then looked
back at the whistles.

I’d recently
had my hearing checked because Katie was concerned over how loud I would set
the volume on the TV.  My hearing had been fine, I just like it that way. 
Anyway, I’d wound up in a conversation with the technician performing the
test.  He had been a medic in the Army, which was what started us talking.

We chatted
about various things related to the military then he’d gone over the results of
my hearing test with me.  I don’t know if he did this for everyone but he went
into a lot of detail about how humans lose the ability to hear high
frequencies.  The eardrum grows larger and stiffer with age and can’t respond
like it could when we were kids.

He went on
to explain how children and teenagers can hear a dog whistle, but adults over
the age of about twenty can’t.  I hadn’t thought about it since that
appointment but now it made me wonder.  The infected experienced a lot of
subtle physiological changes, not the least among them being enhanced hearing. 

Did it all
have to do with the nervous system, or could there be some changes to their
ears?  Could I call them in with a dog whistle, the same way the tone
transmitted by the Russian satellites could attract them?  Reaching out, I
pulled one of the whistles off the display as I heard the faint sound of approaching
rotors.