V Plague (Book 11): Merciless (15 page)

The female leapt and I swung, the head of the tool impacting her temple.  She was knocked to the side, falling to the floor and not moving as I tried to control my swing.  Whatever it was I had grabbed was heavy as hell.

Adjusting the night vision, I looked down and could clearly see the whole side of the female’s head was dented in.  Checking the tool, I grinned when I saw it was a short handled sledgehammer.  Well, that’s certainly one way to do it.

I snapped my rifle up and carefully scanned the interior of the hangar.  She was probably the only infected in residence, as any others would have attacked with her, but I wasn’t going to take a chance. 

Unfortunately, the hangar didn’t have a nice, fat fuel truck parked in it.  Not caring about the small jet with an engine half dismantled, I deactivated the night vision goggles and stepped outside.

“Everything OK?”  Rachel asked quietly when I reappeared.

“Nothing out of the norm,” I smiled, leading the way to the next hangar.

We checked three more, finding each of them as devoid of what we were looking for as the first.  More aircraft in various states of repair.  A handful of infected in each, pretty much equally divided between male and female.  But no trucks.  No generators or generator powered pumps.

Moving on to the final hangar, I was surprised to find it locked up tight.  In addition to the large, rolling door in front, there were three more man doors, but each was securely dead bolted.  After checking them all, I blasted the lock out of one with several rounds from my rifle.  The door began to swing open, then was violently yanked the rest of the way from inside. 

Immediately, several females charged through the opening.  I shot one of them before having to default to a knife rather than risk a stray round hitting one of my small team.  Taking another down with the blade, I spun in time to see Dumas tackled to the ground by two of them.

His men stood close by, staring in shock as the females screamed and tried to reach his throat.  Rachel and I dashed forward at the same time to help him.  She grabbed one of the infected’s long hair and used it to drag her off the Captain.  I buried the knife in the back of the other’s head, turning to help Rachel but Irina had already stepped in, firing a round into the female’s head.

With all the infected down, I helped Dumas to his feet and looked at his two men.  They met my glare, then looked away in embarrassment.  Nothing needed to be said.  They knew they’d frozen and nearly cost their CO his life. 

Carefully, I moved inside the hangar and made a quick scan.  Nothing.  Shit!  I guess someone was making a trip across town to the Air Force Base.

19

We double-timed back to the plane, watching as the men forming the security cordon put down the occasional infected who had been attracted by the noise we’d made landing.  Creed saw us coming and moved to meet me as I reached the perimeter.

“No luck?”

“Nope,” I said, slowing to a walk.  “Gotta make a run to Offutt and find a truck.”

“You think the fuel is still good?”  He asked, causing me to come to a stop and look at him.

I hadn’t even thought about that little problem.  Modern automotive fuel doesn’t have a long shelf life.  There’s been so many government mandated additives introduced over the past few decades, in an effort to reduce emissions, that if untreated, it doesn’t have a long storage life.  I had no idea when to expect all the gasoline, diesel and jet fuel sitting in tanks all over the world would no longer be able to power an engine.

“Hadn’t thought about that,” I admitted.  “And don’t know enough to make an educated guess.  You?”

“Don’t know about aviation fuel, but regular old gasoline for a car loses a lot of octane pretty quick because of all the damn ethanol they blend in nowadays.  Or blended in, I guess.  Just thought I’d mention it.”

“Shit on a stick, Sergeant.  Got any positive thoughts?”

“Sorry, sir,” he grinned.

“Don’t see as we’ve got much choice,” I said after a minute of thinking.  “We’re in the middle of fucking nowhere, and if we don’t get some vaccine soon I’m worried our guests are going to start looking for a snack.”

“What happens if we put bad fuel into the plane?”  Rachel asked.

Creed and I just looked at her for a beat until she blushed and looked down at the ground.

“Oh, right.  Sorry,” she said.

“It’s probably fine, ma’am,” Creed said then turned to me.  “I’ll grab a couple of men and find some wheels to get us to the base.  Shouldn’t be hard to find a truck once we get there.”

“Negative, Sergeant,” I said.  “I want you to take command here and keep these people and this aircraft safe.  She and I are going, but I’d like a couple of Rangers to tag along.  Preferably one that knows how to hot wire a truck so we don’t have to search for keys.”

I could tell he wanted to argue with me, but after a moment he nodded, turned and shouted a couple of names. 

“You’re taking me with you?”  Rachel sounded surprised.

“Would you have stayed behind?”  I asked.

“No,” she laughed.  “I just didn’t think you were smart enough to have figured that out.”

I gave her a look, then got serious as two Rangers trotted up. 

“Sergeants Long and Johnson, sir,” Creed introduced them.

I blinked, then couldn’t help myself.

“You’re sending Long Johnson with me?”  I asked with arched eyebrows.

The two men grinned as Creed tried to suppress a laugh.

“Yes, sir.  They’ve been inseparable since Ranger selection.  Trust me, don’t get them going.  If there’s a long johnson joke out there, they know it.”

“One of you know how to hotwire a truck?”  I asked, looking them over.

“Yes, sir.  I do,” Long answered.  “My pappy was a repo man.  Started taking me with him when I was ten.  Ain’t nothin with a motor I can’t start.”

“OK,” I said.  “Grab your Johnson and go find us some transportation.  We’re going to Offutt to get a fuel truck.”

They grinned and ran off towards the parking lot in front of the terminal.  As I watched them head across the tarmac, another thought occurred to me.  Trotting to the rope dangling down from the plane’s open door, I told Rachel to stay put and climbed up.  Entering the cabin, I banged on the cockpit door and shouted for the pilot to open up.

“What’s up, sir?” 

It looked like he’d been sleeping, and I was glad to see that. 

“Those tanker trucks.  How much fuel do they hold?  Will one be enough to get us to Idaho?”

“If the truck’s full it should have 6,000 gallons.  That’s more than enough.  Just make sure you’re bringing JP-8.  It’s basically the same as Jet-A, which is what this thing burns.”

“JP-8,” I repeated.  “Got it.  OK, get some shut eye.  This will probably take a while.”

He nodded and closed the door, the lock engaging a moment later.  I took a moment to check on the scientists.  Most were sleeping or staring off into space, but there were a few who were pacing the center aisle.  The Ranger at the front of the cabin met my eyes briefly, then returned to watching over the civilians.  I didn’t envy him the assignment.

Sliding down the rope, I looked around in surprise when I didn’t see the two Rangers waiting for me with an idling vehicle.  Creed stepped closer to speak with me.

“They’ve found plenty of cars, but they’re all in a two story parking garage.  There was a collapse from a truck crashing into the overhead at the entrance and no way to drive any of them out.  They’re having to go a little farther to find something.”

“Alright.  We’ll catch up with them.  Save some time.”

I looked at Rachel and began jogging across the tarmac in the direction the Rangers had gone.  It took me a minute to realize Irina was tagging along.  I thought about sending her back, then dismissed the impulse.  If she wanted to come along, it was fine with me.

“You’ve changed,” Rachel said as she ran next to me.

“What do you mean?”

“Before, I would have had to argue and yell at you before you’d bring me.  Now, it was your idea, and you’re not even stopping to turn Irina back.”

“Maybe I figured out there’s no safe place anymore,” I said.  “Guess I’d rather have the people I care about with me.  Kind of gotten old, getting separated from everyone.”

“You are a big softie.  I knew it!”  Rachel said, smiling.

I ignored her and called Sergeant Long on the radio.  We were rounding the end of the terminal and I wanted to know where they were.  Ahead, a tall chain link fence separated the tarmac from the public area of the airport.  There was a large hole torn in it and we slowed to duck through the opening.

“They’re on the backside of the parking garage,” I said, pointing across a broad stretch of pavement that ran in front of the terminal.

Halfway across the road, I stopped when I received another transmission.

“Copy,” I said.  “Pick us up in front of the terminal.”

“They find one?”  Rachel asked.

“Yep.  On the way,” I said, looking over the area.

At the far end of the terminal I spotted several slow moving figures, but after a moment of watching, categorized them as not an imminent threat.  They were males and nearly a quarter of a mile away.  It would take them a while to reach our location.

“There,” Irina said.

I turned in the direction she was looking and saw a handful of females running towards us. 

“You saw them, you shoot them,” I said to Irina.

I knew she was a poor shot with a rifle, at best.  And the best remedy for that is practice.  As she raised the rifle to her shoulder, I quietly stepped to a spot slightly beside and behind her, clicking off my rifle’s safety.  Just in case.

Irina fired the first round and one of the females jerked sideways, slowed slightly, then resumed charging at us.  Three rounds later, one of them fell to the pavement in a tangle of limbs.  That left four more, still approaching fast. 

They were inside a hundred yards now, and Irina’s rate of fire picked up.  She was getting nervous.  Most of her rounds were hitting the infected, but not head or heart shots that would put them down instantly.  Another female fell, then a third.  Two remained, getting uncomfortably close.  From the corner of my eye, I saw Rachel raise her rifle.

Irina kept firing, the fourth dropping at twenty yards.  OK, training is one thing, but they were getting too damn close.  Snapping my rifle up, I fired the instant the butt was against my shoulder.  My round punched through the last female’s head and she tumbled forward, coming to a stop no more than three steps away.

“You’re getting better,” I said to Irina, turning at the sound of an approaching vehicle.

A huge, black Cadillac Escalade sporting chrome spinners on the wheels pulled to a stop next to us, Long behind the wheel.  He was grinning ear to ear.  I shook my head and ushered the ladies into the back seat ahead of me.  The Ranger hit the gas and spun us through a U-turn, heading for the airport exit.

“So, where is this Air Force Base, sir?”

“South of town is all I know,” I said.  “First time I’ve ever been in Nebraska.  If you can find a freeway, head south.  I’m sure there’ll be signs for it when we get close.”

“Yes, sir,” he said.

It took us some time to get out of the airport.  There were numerous wrecks, blocking the road.  The Cadillac easily navigated onto the grassy shoulder and median to bypass them.  The largest group of infected I’d seen so far in Omaha met us when we came around a curve.  Long slowed enough to bull through without damaging the vehicle or picking up any riders.

Finding a freeway, we headed south, but it was even slower going than the airport.  Abandoned vehicles clogged all of the lanes and we had to resort to driving in the median.  The ground was soft, but again, the all-wheel drive system in the heavy SUV pulled through without any dramatics.

The northbound lanes were in much better shape.  That was good news for the return trip.  It would have been nice to use them to get to the base, but a thick, steel cable was strung along the median, separating the directions of travel.  We couldn’t get across.  A couple of times, Long tried to exit to look for a way to move to the open lanes, but the off ramps were all clogged.  We were stuck, navigating the graveyard of vehicles.

An hour later we had covered slightly more than 12 miles.  Creeping along, we passed a large sign that told us to take the next exit for Offutt Air Force Base.  The only problem was there were three lanes full of abandoned cars and trucks between us and the ramp.  Long rolled to a stop next to a large 18 wheeler.  We sat there for a few moments as he studied the vehicles that were in our way.

“Got an idea, Sergeant?”  I prompted.

“Well, sir, I was thinking about trying to start that rig right there and use it to push some of these cars out of our way.  Otherwise, we may be driving for hours before we find an opening.”

I looked at the big truck he was talking about, then the sea of cars restricting us to the median.  It was late in the day, sunset quickly approaching, and I didn’t like the idea of screwing around out here in the open once it got dark.  We needed to get to the base, find a truck and be on our way.

“Do it,” I said, popping my door open and stepping out.

Johnson, Rachel and I spread out around the Cadillac, looking for any threats.  I had Irina climb onto its roof for a better view, telling her to stay up there and act as our lookout.  She turned a slow circle before calling down that she didn’t see anything moving.

Long had the truck started quickly, hopping out and leaving it idling.  In a few minutes, he had the trailer disconnected and hopped back into the cab.  The gears ground briefly, then I had to turn my attention away when Irina shouted.  I looked in the direction she was pointing, but failed to see anything.

“What do you see?”  I shouted back to be heard over the revving engine and crunch of metal as Long started pushing cars.

“Infected,” she yelled.  “A lot of them.  Coming fast.”

“How many are a lot?”

“More than I can count,” she said.

With a curse, I clambered over the Cadillac’s hood and onto the roof next to her.