Days Of Perdition: Voodoo Plague Book 6 (19 page)

We pressed on in the darkness, driving through an area of
the city where the power was out.  Infected were a constant presence, but not
in significant numbers.  Yet.  I remembered from a briefing Colonel Crawford
had given to Admiral Packard that there were going to be over 200,000 people in
Oklahoma City that weren’t expected to receive the vaccine in time to prevent
them from turning. 

That briefing had been a little over 24 hours ago, and at that
point the window of time to the appearance of a quarter of a million new
threats was seven days at the most.  As I thought about this I wondered if
Katie had been immunized.  She’d apparently been on the base, and I’d heard
that everyone on base had been, so that gave me a little comfort.

That also meant that Roach had been as well, but he
presented enough danger to her without being infected that I didn’t derive any
peace from that thought.  But what was at the casino?  Why had he taken her
there?  For that matter, why had he taken her at all?

“Because he’s fucking crazy.  That’s why.”  Startled, I
looked in the rear view and met Rachel’s eyes.  I hadn’t realized I had spoken
out loud.

“How’s Martinez?”  I asked, wanting to change the subject. 

The last thing I needed right now was for Rachel to decide
we needed to discuss what finding Katie meant for us.  I already knew the
answer to that.  I cared for Rachel very much, and if not for Katie could
imagine being happy with her.  But Katie wasn’t just my wife, she was my best
friend. 

The only reason I’d even let myself go down the thought path
of having a relationship with Rachel was I had convinced myself that I’d never
see Katie again.  I remembered the first time I’d laid eyes on her.  She’d been
a case office for the CIA and while working in Central America had run afoul of
a local rebel commander.  Fortuitously, I’d been there with my team to take the
commander out of the equation and we’d wound up rescuing and extracting Katie.

It had pretty much been love at first sight for me.  From
the moment I looked into her eyes… well, you get the idea.  Anyway, I’d had
some down time coming after that mission and so had she.  After a couple of
days of intense CIA and Army Intelligence debriefing we were released for
leave, and I’d convinced her that we should spend our time off together. 
Thinking back on it I hadn’t had to work very hard to talk her into it.

Both of us had had our fill of hot, humid jungles, and since
it was summer we headed for a beach, ending up on the central Oregon coast.  We
spent 10 days exploring the beaches, small towns, eating seafood, drinking,
making love and generally decompressing.  We’d tried a From Here To Eternity
moment in the surf but damn the North Pacific is cold, even in July.  Leaving
Oregon we drove south through California then headed east, stopping in Vegas
where we got married in a small, private chapel by a guy wearing a powder blue
leisure suit.

That was more years ago than I wanted to think about, and I
didn’t regret a single moment.  Sure, we had our ups and downs.  Katie could be
a moody bitch.  I could be a rigid asshole.  But we were good together.  Mostly
because she didn’t put up with any of my shit. 

“She’s OK,” Rachel said from the dark backseat.  “Nothing
life threatening, but she’ll be hurting for a while.”

I had forgotten I’d asked about Martinez, completely lost in
my reminiscing about Katie.  My hands were aching and I realized I was squeezing
the steering wheel as hard as I could.  Taking a deep breath I relaxed my grip
and forced those thoughts out of my head.  The emotions were distracting me
from the task at hand and if that happened I could wind up getting all of us
killed, then there wouldn’t be anyone to rescue Katie.

Clearing my head, I checked the GPS.  91 miles to go.  Maybe
another 20 miles of Oklahoma City, then sparsely populated suburbs and open
country as we drove north to the Indian Reservation where the casino was
located.  I’d feel a whole lot better once we got out of the city and away from
the possibility of running into large numbers of infected, or desperate
survivors.

Ahead I could see light as we approached an area of the city
that still had power.  There were a couple of vehicles moving, and I came to a
stop.  We might or might not draw unwanted attention from survivors if we drove
through an area that still had a degree of normality to it, but there was still
a dead infected female lying on the dash of the Suburban.  

There was little doubt we’d draw a lot of attention with a
corpse decorating our vehicle.  The world felt like it was heading that way,
but we still hadn’t reached the level of the apocalypse depicted in the Road
Warrior.  Bodies draped over the hood just might be a little over the top.

“Why are you stopping?”  Rachel asked.  I took a moment to
explain before stepping out and dragging the dead woman off the SUV and letting
her tumble to the pavement.

Back behind the wheel I got us moving north again, passing a
sign welcoming us to Midwest City just a few yards before we entered the area
where the lights were on.  The street was a large boulevard, lined with
businesses and mid-level motels.  A big, glass fronted restaurant on our right
was full of people, the parking lot jammed with mostly pickups, but also a
large contingent of police cars.  It looked like they were having a meeting as
we slowly passed.

A tall, fat man dressed in jeans, sports jacket and a cowboy
hat was standing on what looked like the salad bar and everyone was gathered
around listening to what he had to say.  A dozen heavily armed men stood watch
in the parking lot, all of them turning to look at us.  For some reason I
wasn’t comfortable under their scrutiny and accelerated to open up some
distance.

“Not liking the look of that,” I commented as we lost sight
of the building.

“Why?”  Rachel asked.

“It’s the middle of the night, and that didn’t look like a
PTA meeting.  That’s someone trying to whip the locals up into doing
something.”  I said, keeping an eye on the rearview mirror.

“Maybe they’re talking about setting up some defenses
against the infected.”  Martinez offered.

“Maybe.  Or maybe they’re not too happy that there’s not
enough vaccine to go around.”  I said, tensing when I saw two sets of
headlights bounce out of the parking lot and start following.

As soon as I saw the headlights, I reacted.  Stepping on the
gas I cranked the wheel to the right and turned onto a side street.  Foot to
the floor I raced for the next intersection, braking at the last moment and
screaming through a turn back to the south.  Not the way I wanted to go, but if
we did have pursuers and they didn’t know the way we went they’d start
searching north, the direction we had been going.

The mirror was still empty and after a quarter mile I made a
fast left and kept our speed up to open as much range between the meeting and
us as I could.  The power was still on in the area, the street well lit, and
soon we began passing bodies lying on the pavement and the sidewalk.

“Infected?”  Rachel asked.

“I sure as hell hope so,” I said, concentrating on my
driving.  I hadn’t seen or heard anything to make me think the Oklahoma City
area had disintegrated far enough that people were killing each other in large
numbers, but you never know what spark will ignite a wholesale slaughter.

Ahead the road curved to the north, and I was happy to see
we’d be traveling in our intended direction once again.  Slowing for the turn I
jammed on the brakes when I spotted red and blue lights reflecting in a
storefront window.  Lots of lights, lots of police cars.  Something was going
on around the curve and not only wasn’t it any of my business, I had no desire
to make it my business.

Reversing, I got us turned around and headed back the
direction we had come from, looking for another road that headed north. 
Finding one, I made the turn.  This road was much smaller, only two narrow
lanes in each direction.  Large commercial buildings lined each side, built
right up to the sidewalks.  We were driving through a concrete canyon and my
tension ratcheted up several notches.

This was a perfect place for an ambush.  The road was barely
wider than the length of the Suburban.  Turning around wouldn’t be a quick or
easy process.  We hadn’t come to an intersection yet, but I had already decided
I was going to turn as soon as I could.

I’d been driving with only the headlights on low, not
needing the brilliant light from the LED bar because of the light provided by
the street lights, but thought it might be a good idea to see what was waiting
for us beyond the reach of the Chevy’s lights.  Turning on the high beams, then
the light bar, I let off the gas when a couple of hundred yards ahead I saw
three police cars blocking our path.

Their roof lights came on a moment after I lit them up. 
Shit!

“Hold on!”  I shouted, cranking the wheel and attempting to
send the ungainly SUV into a skid to get us turned around quickly. 

It was a good idea, and in a car would have worked
perfectly.  But the physics of the lifted vehicle and its oversized off-road
tires worked against me.  The Suburban leaned precariously to the right as it
started into a turn, our speed not great enough to fully overcome the traction
afforded by the large footprint of the tires.  I instantly recognized my error
and stamped on the throttle, trying to break the rear tires free and let them
slide around. 

I only made things worse.  The rear didn’t slide, just
powered us into the turn.  The sidewalk was directly ahead, a four-story cement
wall right behind it, and we were about to crash into it head on.  There wasn’t
anything I could do other than ride out the maneuver I’d started and keep the
wheel hard to the left.

It seemed to take forever but the front tires finally struck
the curb, the nose of the SUV dipping momentarily like it was gathering itself
to launch into the air.  That change in the attitude of the suspension shifted
weight to the front of the vehicle and finally the rear tires came free.  As
the front bounced up and over the curb onto the sidewalk, the back end whipped
around, but farther and faster than I intended.

The passenger side of the Suburban slammed into the
building, shattering all the windows on the right side of the vehicle.  My foot
had come off the gas when we hit the curb and now facing the right direction I
floored it.  We started moving, bounced back into the street, and I found
myself facing three police cars speeding towards us with lights flashing.

I accelerated directly at the oncoming cops.  We were boxed
in, but I wasn’t about to give up.  The Suburban was big and heavy and could
dish out a lot of punishment against the lighter sedans the police were
driving.  The engine roared as we picked up speed and I steered for the narrow
gap between two of the cruisers.

At first it didn’t seem as if they were going to blink in
our impromptu game of chicken, but at the last moment they did, both vehicles
swerving away from the looming grill of the big SUV.  Both drivers had waited
until the last moment to turn, and didn’t create an opening large enough for me
to drive through cleanly.  With a rending crunch of sheet metal and a hard jolt
I blasted between them, seeing one of them go into an uncontrolled spin in my
mirror.

Four more police cars were parked at the intersection ahead,
creating a roadblock.  The cops were crouched behind their vehicles with
weapons resting on hoods and trunks, aimed in our direction.  Behind them were
a couple of unmarked SUVs that I was sure were official vehicles of some sort. 

Staying on the throttle I worked my rifle up with my left
hand, struggling to get the muzzle through the window and aimed at the
roadblock.  I had absolutely no intention of stopping and dealing with the
locals.  My patience had expired and all I gave a shit about was getting to
Katie.  I was through with people getting in my way.

A moment before I got the rifle stabilized and ready to fire
I saw a muzzle flash from the cordon of police.  Almost instantly the wheel wrenched
hard to the side.  They had shot out the right front tire.  OK, if they wanted
to play that way.

Flooring the throttle I fought the wheel with my right hand
and began firing the rifle with my left.  I didn’t have a hope in hell of
sending accurate fire downrange, but that wasn’t my intent.  I just wanted to
keep their heads down, which was exactly what I accomplished as my rounds
punched into the sides of the police vehicles.

Fighting the vibrating wheel I steered for an opening
between two of the parked cars, a few heartbeats later slamming into the sides
of each and blasting them out of my way.  Unfortunately the already damaged
Suburban, riding on a flat tire that was shredding itself to pieces, didn’t
survive the impact.  The wheel was spun out of my grip a moment before the
airbags deployed, then we ground to a halt with the back half of the vehicle
wedged tightly between the two cruisers.

I popped the door open and leapt down, Dog on my heels,
changed magazines and started sending covering fire in the direction of the
cluster of cops.  Still firing, I held the rifle with one hand and reached out
for the rear door handle, jerking it open so Rachel and Martinez could get
out.  They were quickly at my side; all of us ducking as the police finally got
organized and began returning fire.

  “What the fuck do they want?”  Martinez shouted when she
paused to change magazines.

“Don’t care,” I shouted back.  “They’re in my way.”

I fired another burst at our attackers then spared a glance
at the closest SUV.  It was a Ford Explorer; painted black with tinted windows
and plain, steel wheels.  Definitely police issue and I wanted it to replace
the now defunct Suburban. 

“I’m going for the Explorer,” I shouted to Rachel and
Martinez, pointing the vehicle out to them.  “I’ll swing around behind and pick
you up.  Keep giving me covering fire!”

I didn’t wait for them to acknowledge my instructions, just
fired off several more bursts as I dashed across fifty feet of open asphalt. 
At the Explorer I came to a stop by slamming my back against the rear door on
the driver’s side, startled when I realized Dog had come with me.  Fortunately
neither of us had any new holes in our bodies so I yanked the front door open
and told him to get in.

It was running with the keys hanging in the ignition, facing
away from the firefight.  Throwing the transmission into gear I stomped on the
gas and spun the wheel to pick up Rachel and Martinez.  When I completed the
turn I cursed and jammed on the brakes.  Three men stood behind them, two of
them pointing shotguns.  The third held a large revolver that he pointed in my
direction when I screeched to a stop a few feet away.

Anger washed over me like a breaking wave.  Enough is
enough.  From a pocket on my vest I pulled out a fragmentation grenade, gripped
it in my left hand and pulled the pin.  If I let go of the spoon, which would
trigger the fuse, someone would have a bad night.  Kicking the door open I
stepped out and drew my pistol, targeting the head of the man with the revolver
as I walked around the nose of the Explorer.  Dog stayed right with me, welded to
my leg.

“Back the fuck off!”  I said to him.  “Look at my left
hand.  The pin is out.  We can all die here tonight, or you can back the fuck
off and we’re on our way.”

By the time I finished speaking I was standing within
fifteen feet of the three men.  The man with the revolver, presumably the man
in charge, looked at me with wide eyes.  The two with the shotguns exchanged
nervous glances.

“I’m not fucking around,” I said.  “We didn’t do a damn
thing to you or anyone else.  You jumped us.  We’ve got more important things
to do than play hide the salami with you idiots.  For the last time, lower your
goddamn weapons and back away.”

“You’re from the base,” revolver man said.  “We need the
vaccine or we’re going to turn into one of the infected.  Give us the vaccine. 
That’s all we want.”

“Do I look like someone who’s carrying vaccine around with him?” 
I snorted.  “Now I’m getting seriously pissed off.  Back off.  Now!”

My pistol was steady on his head, my focus on him, but I
made sure I had my body shielded from the other cops by the Explorer.  I was
starting to get worried about a sharp shooter.  No one could sneak up on me
with Dog standing there, but a scoped rifle from a hundred yards away could
cause a problem.  The man didn’t look like he was going to give, and I was out
of time.

Without any wind up or warning I flicked the grenade
overhanded through the air.  As soon as it left my hand a spring pushed the
spoon off to go clattering across the pavement and the clock started.  My throw
was good, the grenade arcing high and sailing over the men’s heads.

Everyone’s attention was on the green, baseball sized
object, every pair of eyes except mine tracking its path.  At the apex of the
throw I pulled the trigger and shot revolver man in the head, his body
instantly crumpling to the ground at the same time the grenade landed on the
pavement a couple of feet farther on.

“Down!”  I shouted to Martinez and Rachel as I started
firing at the two men wielding the shotguns. 

My first shot blew out the throat of one of them, taking him
out of the fight.  The second was more interested in escaping, scrambling
across the asphalt to get as far away from the grenade as he could before it
detonated.  Four bullets hit him in rapid succession, the first three to his body,
the fourth taking off the back of his head.

I had just finished saying “four Mississippi” in my head
when he went down and I dropped to the ground and pulled Dog with me as flat as
I could.  A fraction of a second before we hit the pavement the grenade
detonated, deafening me.  I didn’t feel any fragments of the casing strike me
and Dog was back on his feet almost before the concussion from the blast had
passed over us, so I knew he was probably OK.

Sparing a glance at Rachel and Martinez I wasn’t overly
concerned when neither were moving.  Both were flat on their stomachs, hugging
the pavement.  Whipping my body up into a one knee shooting stance I raised my
rifle and started looking for targets. 

The cops were just poking their heads up, a couple of them
lifting weapons to re-start the fire fight.  I sent a few rounds into the cars
they were sheltering behind, causing them to duck for safety, then pulled
another grenade out of my vest.  Pin out, I let the spoon fly, counted to two
and side armed it along the ground in their direction.

It skittered across the asphalt, slowing as it disappeared
under one of the cruisers.  A second later it went off, shaking the vehicle on
its suspension before rupturing and touching off the fuel tank.  The explosion
and resulting fireball was intense, the heat from the flames threatening to
blister my exposed skin.

“Let’s move!”  I shouted at the girls and leapt to my feet.

Sending more covering fire in the direction of the cops, I
dashed to the Explorer and jumped behind the wheel after dog scrambled into the
front passenger seat.  A moment later the back door was flung open and Rachel
threw herself into the vehicle, Martinez right behind her.  I floored the
throttle before she was all the way inside, screeching away from the
roadblock.  No bullets chased us, or if they did they didn’t find their target
before we were out of range.

“Everyone OK?”  I asked as I drove.

“Good,” Martinez said, Rachel answering the same a moment
later.

I lowered our speed a little and reached over to pet Dog. 
More than affection, I wanted to check him for wounds.  After running my hand
across his head, body and legs I checked it in the dim lights of the dashboard
for blood.  Other than grimy from combat, my hand was clean.

Letting out a slow breath, I controlled the shakes that were
hitting me as adrenaline bled out of my system.  We were incredibly lucky to
have survived the battle without any injuries.  We most likely wouldn’t have
survived contact with well trained military troops, but street cops in
mid-sized cities aren’t prepared to deal with what I’d unleashed on them.

“If I haven’t said it, sir, remind me not to piss you off.” 
Martinez said from the dark back seat. 

I could hear the smirk in her voice.  Several smart comments
sprang to mind, but I wasn’t in the mood for witty banter and stayed quiet as I
drove, eyes constantly scanning ahead of us for threats.  After a few minutes
Rachel broke the heavy silence in the vehicle.

“You OK?”  She asked.

“Fine,” I answered.  “I just don’t feel as bad about killing
those cops as I should.  They were simply scared of the infection.”

“Think there will be more?”  Rachel asked after a couple of
minutes of thought.

“Maybe.  Probably.  Maybe not cops, but more scared people. 
There’s nothing I can do about it.  I don’t have any vaccine and I can’t help
them.  They just need to stay the fuck out of my way so I can get to Katie.”  I
said.

Either the tone in my voice or Rachel realizing we were only
miles from finding my wife killed any further conversation.  That was fine with
me.  I wasn’t in the mood to talk.  I had one thing on my mind.  Rescuing
Katie, and that was all I was able to concentrate on at the moment.

I get like that.  So focused on the task at hand that all
else is ignored.  That’s one thing that made me so good at being a soldier.  It
also drove Katie to distraction.  She was the queen of multi-tasking and had a
hard time dealing with my single-mindedness when I had to accomplish something.

We drove in silence for some time as I kept pushing us
north.  Frequently I had to sidetrack to avoid abandoned vehicles blocking the
road.  Occasionally we saw other survivors moving around, some driving and some
on foot.  All too often we came across groups of infected.  All of the infected
were headed south towards Tinker.

Now that I knew the infected were being controlled, or more
accurately they were being “directed”, the previously mysterious herding behavior
wasn’t quite as frightening.  Well, as long as I knew the location they were
being called to and could be somewhere else when they arrived.  I wondered what
was being done to identify the Russian satellite or satellites that were
broadcasting the signal that attracted the infected.  Hopefully something,
because the defenses at Tinker weren’t great and there were a lot of people
that would die if a large herd showed up.

“Fifty four miles to go,” Martinez suddenly spoke from the
back seat.

I had been so absorbed in my driving and musings that I’d
almost forgotten they were back there.  I looked into the rearview mirror,
getting a good view of both of them as we were driving through an area that
still had power and was well lit by modern streetlights.  I nodded my thanks to
Martinez and cut my eyes to Rachel.

She was looking back at me and I could tell she had been
crying.  Her eyes were red rimmed and watery, the end of her nose shiny from
being rubbed.  At that moment my heart went out to her.  I wanted to pull over,
open the back door and fold her into my arms.  But I didn’t.  That wouldn’t
help anyone.  It would send her the wrong message and would waste time that I
didn’t have to get to Katie before something truly bad happened to her.