Fulcrum: V Plague Book 12 (26 page)

The pilot was uninjured, just severely sunburned and
dehydrated.  I’d carried him into the cabin and deposited him on a bunk
with not so clean sheets.  Rachel had immediately started a saline IV to
begin the rehydration process.  That, and some salve on his face and
hands, and there wasn’t much more to be done for him.

“He going to be OK?”  I asked when Rachel joined me on
the bridge.

I’d already pointed us to the north.  The plan was to
return to the Tahoe and drive back to the US.  I was hoping the pilot
would recover quickly, and we could make a stop at Luke Air Force Base in
Phoenix so he could fly us the rest of the way.  But I needed to know soon,
before we committed on a direction.  Once we were up into Arizona, there
was no way across the river.

“As far as I can tell.  He looks to be in very good
physical condition and doesn’t have anything wrong other than severe
dehydration and a really nasty sunburn where his flight suit didn’t cover
him.  Hands and face.”

“How long before he should be up and moving?”

Rachel shrugged her shoulders.

“Could be just a few hours, or could be days. 
Everyone’s body is different.  But, I’m guessing it’ll be pretty
quick.  He’s young, and like I said, he’s in good shape, so he should
bounce back with the IVs.”

“IVs?  Plural?”  I asked, surprised.

“I hung a second bag of saline.  Want to get as many
fluids into him as fast as I can.  By the way, you were right to keep
pushing us.  He wouldn’t have lasted another day, exposed to the sun.”

I nodded.

“Anything else you can do to get him on his feet?  As
soon as we get to the Tahoe, I’ve got to decide if we’re taking the long way
around, or can go find a plane.”

“It’s all hydration, at this point,” she said, shaking her
head.  “I’d expect him to be conscious soon, but he’s going to be weak and
feel like he got run over by a truck.  I’ll know more in a couple of
hours.”

She trailed her hand along my arm, then turned and
disappeared into the cabin below.  I sat in the darkness, wishing for a
cigarette as I piloted the boat.  Not wanting to let my thoughts drift to
Katie, I considered how incredibly lucky we’d been to find him quickly and
easily.  But then, I was due for some good luck about now.

It took us a couple of hours to reach Rocky Point.  I
had us a couple of miles offshore and cut the engines to idle when we were
parallel with the marina.  Having felt the change, Rachel climbed up to
see what was happening.

“Rocky Point,” I said, pointing to the east.

“So how do we get back to the Tahoe?”

“Need to pull the infected into town,” I said. 
“That’ll open up things to the north, and we can make a run for it.  Is
our guest going to be able to move under his own power?”

“He’s awake.”

There was something in her voice, and I shoved the night
vision goggles up and looked at her.

“What?”

She hesitated, then shook her head.

“He’s just a bit of an ass,” she sighed.  “Hasn’t
stopped hitting on me since he woke up.  Tiffany, too.”

“We have a problem?”

“Noooo.”  She stretched out the word as she thought of
how to answer.  “It’s not like that.  He’s keeping his hands to
himself.  So far.  He just reminds me of some of the really arrogant
guys that would come into the club when I was dancing.  They’ve either got
money or do something that would make them noticeable.  They could never
understand why their very presence didn’t cause me to go weak in the knees and
fall all over them.”

“Want me to talk to him?”

I was more than happy to educate the pilot on the error of
his ways.  It was a shame Martinez wasn’t still around.  She’d have
had no problems shutting him down in no uncertain terms.

“No,” Rachel smiled and put her hand on my shoulder. 
“At least, not yet.  I think I got the message across, and I’m a big
girl.  I can handle it if he gets too obnoxious.  So.  How are
you planning to draw the infected away from the hotel?”

It was obvious she wanted to change the subject.  I
smiled at her, lowered the NVGs and looked towards shore. 

“Sit tight and watch,” I said.

Accelerating, I angled for a point about half a mile south
of the hotel.  When we were within a hundred yards of shore, I turned us
broadside and cut the engines.  Pulling my rifle around, I removed the
suppressor and aimed in the general direction of the beach.  I wasn’t
necessarily trying to hit anything, I just wanted to make a lot of racket.

Pulling and holding the trigger, I ran through a magazine on
full auto.  The noise, as it always is, was brutally loud, and once my
ears had recovered, I could faintly detect the screams of the females on the
sand.  Motoring half a mile closer to town, I fired again, but only used
half of a magazine.  Our ammo supply wasn’t infinite.

I kept this up, moving slowly and stopping every half mile
to fire the rifle, until reaching the stone jetty that guarded the
marina.  Floating fifty yards away from it, I stared at the throngs of
females that were quickly pressing in to fill every square inch of dry
land.  The screams were almost deafening.

“Jesus Christ!”  A male voice breathed from behind me.

I turned to see the pilot standing in the narrow entrance to
the bridge.  He held two IV bags in his hand as he stared across the water
at the infected.  I could see Tiffany behind him, peering over his
shoulders.  Dog, who was pretending to sleep, despite all the noise I was
making, raised his head to look at the man, snorted and rolled over onto my
feet.

“First time you’ve seen them in person?”  I asked.

“Yeah,” he said without taking his eyes off the shore. 

“Watch and learn,” I said, firing another half magazine.

This time, I made a token effort at aiming, and several of
the females in the front ranks of the throng fell off the seawall.  Their
bodies splashed into the water below, unmoving.

I kept us sitting where we were for another ten minutes,
occasionally picking off individuals.  I wasn’t amusing myself, I was
giving the females time to keep packing into the town.  The occasional
shots were simply to ensure I was holding their interest.

“That should be long enough,” I said, feeding in throttle
and spinning the wheel.

The boat surged as I pointed us to the southwest.  We
needed to be north, but we also needed to not drag a whole town full of females
along with us.  I intended to motor in the wrong direction until I was out
of sight and hearing of the females.  Probably four miles or so to be
safe.  Only then would I turn north, staying several miles offshore. 
When we were well north of the resort, I’d turn for the beach and come in slow
and quiet.  If we were lucky, all of the females would still be in town,
waiting for us to return.

“I’m Major John Chase,” I said to the pilot.

We had time to talk while I navigated our roundabout course.

“Lieutenant Commander Mark Vance,” he said, extending his
free hand.  “Thank you for coming and getting me.”

I waved off his thanks, noticing Rachel and Tiffany moving
away to disappear into the cabin.  Seems he had already worn out his
welcome with them.

“How are you feeling?  Going to be able to walk? 
We’re going ashore soon.”

His eyes widened as he stared at me in the darkness.

“Are you kidding?  Into that?”

He pointed behind us, and I knew he meant the mass of
infected.

“Hopefully not,” I said.  “That’s why I was drawing
them into the town.  Open up a path for us to get to our vehicle.”

“You drove here?”  He asked, seemingly shocked at the
thought.

“Yep.  We were near Las Vegas when I got word from
Pearl that you were in the water.  Took us a bit, but we made it.”

He stared at me as if I were crazy, then smiled and looked
out across the sea.

“Heard about you in Hawaii,” he said after a long
pause.  “You know.  Stories.  Rumors.  Really crazy shit
about some of the things you’ve done.  Guess there might be some truth to
them, huh?”

I just sat there, staring at him.  Uninterested in what
stories might or might not be told about me.  Being a folk hero was one of
the last things I gave a shit about.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I finally said.  “You
able to walk?”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding.  “Don’t feel great, but I can
walk.”

“What about fly?”

“You know where we can get a plane?”  He turned serious
when I mentioned flying, and I was gratified to see his reaction.

“Luke Air Force Base.  Near Phoenix.  Take us a
few hours to get there once we’re in the vehicle.  Can you fly something
big enough to hold all of us?”

“If its got wings, I can fly it, and if its got a pussy I can
pound it!”

The way he trotted this out, I had no doubt it was something
he liked to say often.  When I was about 19, I might have found it
amusing.  Cool, even.  Now?  I think the expression on my face
got the message across.

“Hey look, I don’t want to step on your toes,” he
said.  “I’m betting that tall, hot babe is yours.  No worries. 
The short one’s a looker!  A little young, but legal, and I’m not
complaining.”

It took all of my willpower not to stand up and knock him on
his back.  Somehow, I managed to keep my ass planted in the seat.

“Commander,” I said in a low, perfectly calm voice. 
“If you lay one, single finger on that little girl, I will feed you to the
infected, one piece at a time.  Be sure you understand me because I will
not warn you again.”

Dog, picking up on my mood, sat up and stared at the Navy
pilot.  He growled softly, curling his upper lip to show his teeth. 
Vance looked at me, the smile on his face vanishing as he understood I wasn’t
kidding.  After a long beat, he nodded and disappeared into the cabin
without saying anything else.  I blew out an irritated sigh and adjusted
our course to start heading south.

I dropped the boat’s anchor half a mile offshore.  We
were, what I estimated to be, a mile south of the resort, and I didn’t want to
go any closer and risk the engines being heard.  Climbing down from the
bridge, I made my way to the stern deck and hauled on the line that was tied to
the wooden boat.

Standing on the platform, I held it steady as Dog jumped in,
followed by Tiffany, Vance then Rachel.  The pilot had removed his IVs and
seemed none the worse for wear.  He also hadn’t spoken to me since our chat
and seemed to be making a concerted effort not to look at me.

Once we were aboard, I reminded everyone to stay as silent
as possible.  Releasing the line, Rachel and I began paddling towards the
beach.  It didn’t take long as we got some help from the wind, then the
surf caught us and propelled the boat forward.  At that point, all we
could do was use the paddles to try and maintain our course.

I was in the front, and when I felt the keel scrape against
sand, I dropped my paddle and jumped over the side.  The water was hip
deep, but with the waves coming in I got dunked a couple of times as I dragged
the boat forward.  Rachel joined me in the water, and between the two of
us we pulled until the bow was resting on smooth sand.

Dog jumped out, twisting in the air so when he landed he
didn’t get his feet wet.  He stood there panting, almost as if he was
laughing at me, then turned and raised his nose.  No growls followed, but
the wind was coming in off the water.  He wouldn’t be able to smell any
infected that were waiting for us in the low dunes.

Vance was the next one out, splashing into knee deep
water.  He turned to help Tiffany, then caught himself and glanced at
me.  I guess he had taken my message to heart.  I nodded that it was
OK for him to help her, then moved a few yards up the beach and scanned with my
rifle.  Everything looked clear.

A minute later, we were formed up and moving in single file
towards the desert.  Dog and I were on point with Vance and Tiffany right
behind.  Rachel brought up the rear.  It was a long walk to where I’d
left the Tahoe, but we made it in just over 90 minutes without encountering any
problems. 

Apparently, my distraction had worked.  When we came to
a point where the resort was upwind, I expected Dog to growl to let us know he
smelled infected.  But, to my pleasant surprise, he remained quiet.

Reaching the Tahoe, I took a few minutes to replenish my
ammo from the stock in the back.  While I did this, Rachel put Vance in
the back seat and started a fresh IV.  He was on his feet, but he was
still dehydrated.  When Dog jumped in and sat down next to him, he shrank
away against the door.  Tiffany climbed in on the far side and pulled Dog
to her, gently stroking his head.

“I’m driving,” Rachel said when I closed the rear hatch and
headed for the driver’s seat.  “You’ve expended a lot of energy since we
left Nevada.  You’ve got to be tired.  You need some sleep in case we
run into more trouble.”

I stared at her for a long time.  Thought about
protesting.  But, she was right.  I was exhausted, and just about
every inch of my body hurt.  I wasn’t even sure I had the energy to argue
with her.

“OK,” I finally said.  “You know where we’re going?”

She nodded and smiled at me.

“When we get close to those little border towns, I was
planning on cutting through the desert and circling around, so we didn’t have
to push through the infected.”

“I can do that,” she said, taking my arm to escort me to the
passenger seat.  “If I have a problem, I’ll wake you up.”

We paused outside the door, and she held onto my arm,
looking into my eyes.  When I didn’t look away, she leaned in and kissed
me.  Soft and gentle.  Pulling away, she opened the passenger door
and flapped her hand.  With a tired smile, I got in and wiggled on the
leather upholstery until I was comfortable.  Apologizing to Tiffany in
advance, I reclined the seat back, and already had my eyes closed by the time
Rachel was behind the wheel.

I opened my eyes when Rachel shook my shoulder and called my
name.  Brilliant sunlight made me squint and raise a hand to shade my
face.

“Where the hell are we?”  I asked, my mouth gummy from
sleep.

“I think we’re about half an hour from the air base,” Rachel
answered. 

Blinking, I looked around and recognized the stretch of Interstate
10 we were driving on. 

“Where do I turn?”  Rachel asked.

I told her which freeway to take, then raised my seat and
looked into the back, coming face to face with Dog.  He gave me a lick
before sneezing on me.  Well, that’s one way to wake up.

Vance was dozing with a half empty IV bag still dripping
into his arm.  Tiffany was in her own little world, staring out the side
window.  I turned back to the front and opened a bottle of water.  It
was warm, but I didn’t care.  After drinking most of it, I was able to
wash Dog snot off my face with the remainder.

“Think we’ll have a problem with the guy we ran into on the
way down?”  Rachel asked.

“Don’t think so,” I said.  “He didn’t seem crazy or
stupid.  Just didn’t know what he was doing.  I think he’s got his
family hiding out somewhere on the base and now that he knows we don’t mean him
any harm, will just steer clear.  If he even sees us.”

Rachel nodded and turned onto the new freeway.  We
covered the last few miles quickly, despite the number of abandoned cars that
created an impromptu slalom course.  I pointed out the proper exit and
Rachel turned onto it, making a left at the bottom of the ramp.

“We’re going straight to the flight line,” I said as we
progressed down the street that ran past the main gate.

Turning around, I made sure Tiffany was alert and woke the
pilot, telling him it was time to go to work.  He nodded and quickly
removed the IV needle from his arm.  His eyes were much clearer than the
last time I’d seen them, and he no longer looked as haggard.  Filthy,
sunburned and in need of a shave, but then I wasn’t any better.

Rachel slowed and drove through the gate, the Tahoe slightly
bouncing as it rolled over the tops of the bollards that Tiffany had retracted
on our previous visit.  I had my rifle up and ready as we progressed, but
didn’t see anything to be worried about, even after scanning all of the
rooftops.

After a wrong turn, Rachel retraced some of our path, then
we were approaching the gate that protected the flight line.  It was still
closed and locked, just like last time.

“Ram it,” I said when Rachel started to slow.

I’m sure there was a time when she would have been hesitant
to do what I’d just told her.  Those days were long gone.  The big
SUV surged forward, and the gate tore apart from the impact.  A grinding
noise started up from behind, and I looked into the side mirror.  We were
dragging a section of chain link.  Oh well.

“Commander, take your pick,” I said, waving my hand at the
parked aircraft in front of us.

“How far are we going?”  He asked, leaning forward for
a better look.

“Groom Lake.”

“Area 51?  Really?”  He asked in surprise. 
“OK, let’s take an Osprey.  That’s the only thing I see that will carry
all of us.”

By now, Rachel knew what the aircraft looked like.  She
drove another few hundred yards, then came to a stop beside four of the V22s
that sat gleaming in the sun. 

“What do you need us to do to be ready to go?”  I asked
as we all climbed out onto the tarmac.

“Nothing,” he said, striding for the closest plane. 
“As long as its got fuel and isn’t red-tagged for a maintenance issue, we’re
good to go.”

Following behind, Rachel and I scanned our surroundings as
we walked.  Dog trotted to the Osprey’s landing gear and relieved himself
on a tire.  I hoped that would bring us good luck.

We waited outside while Vance did whatever it is pilots do
before taking off.  I kept waiting to hear one of the big engines come to
life, but they remained still and silent.  A minute later he emerged,
shaking his head.

“Batteries are dead.  Let’s try another.”

He led the way to the next aircraft, disappearing inside as
the rest of us took up station at the nose.  Glancing through the
windscreen, I could see him in the cockpit, flipping switches, and checking
instruments.  A moment later there was a loud whine from the left engine
nacelle.

The noise rose in pitch as both rotors slowly began to
turn.  They were horizontal, making the plane look like a twin-rotor helicopter
because they’re too long to be oriented vertically, in flight mode, when the
Osprey is on the ground.

As the left engine spooled up, thick, white smoke poured out
of the exhaust.  We had to step back to avoid being engulfed by the cloud,
but the rotors continued to accelerate and quickly cleared the air.  They
continued to spin faster as the engine roared, then the right one came to
life.  More white smoke poured out but was instantly whipped away by the
rotor wash.  Vance looked at us through the windscreen and flashed a
thumbs up.

Running around the Osprey, we gave the engines plenty of
room.  The rear ramp was coming down as we arrived, and I led the way
inside.  When Dog and the girls were aboard, I slapped the button to raise
the door and headed for the cockpit.  Rachel and Tiffany looked around for
a moment before taking a seat on the deck.  There weren’t any seats for
passengers.

“Ready?”  I shouted over the bellow of the engines when
I stuck my head into the flight deck.

“Good to go,” Vance said.  “Might want to take a
seat.  I haven’t flown one of these in about five years.”

Oh, crap.  I rushed back and dropped to my ass as the
aircraft lifted off, the deck tilting to the side.  Dog started to slide,
and I grabbed him and held on as the vibration increased and for a moment we
tilted even farther.  But, Vance eventually got us leveled out, and it
felt like we were in a static hover.

That lasted for a few seconds, then he began to accelerate,
the deck tilting back as we gained altitude.  Checking on the girls, I saw
a terrified look on Rachel’s face, but she was holding it together. 
Tiffany, on the other hand, was smiling from ear to ear.

“Think they’d teach me how to fly one of these?”  She
shouted when she saw me looking in her direction.

“You can’t do roller coaster and you get seasick, but you
want to be a pilot?”  I shouted back.

“Yes!” 

She smiled, expecting that one word to explain
everything.  Shrugging, I smiled and nodded.  It just so happened I
knew the man that could make that happen, and there was no doubt we were in
desperate need of pilots.

The smile vanished from my face when the deck suddenly
tilted without warning and Vance shouted for us to hold on.  A vibration
strong enough to rattle my teeth started up, growing worse as we banked and
began rapidly descending.  Rachel and Tiffany looked terrified, and
frankly I wasn’t feeling too confident at the moment, either.

A couple of minutes later there was a brutally hard impact
as we reached the ground.  Somehow the aircraft held together and began
taxiing. 

“Still wannabe a pilot?”  I asked Tiffany before scrambling
forward into the cockpit.

“What the fuck was that all about?”  I shouted.

“That’s called a good landing,” Vance grinned.

“What?”

“Still alive, aren’t you?”  He chuckled.

“Funny, asshole,” I grumbled, climbing to my feet and
looking out the windscreen.  We were near the end of a runway on Luke Air
Force Base.  “What happened?”

“Something wrong with the port engine,” he said.  “Felt
like the rotor was running slower than starboard.  Other than that, beats
the fuck out of me.  I just fly ‘em.”

“So what now?”  I asked, watching as we slowly
approached the flight line where the Osprey had been parked.

“Check the others,” he said.  “No way in hell I’m going
back up in this egg beater.”

I nodded, then went to the back to fill in the girls. 
Vance pulled to a stop a few minutes later, the engines going silent as the
rear ramp descended.  He stepped out of the cockpit and I held up a hand
to slow him down.

“We’re on security,” I said to Rachel and Tiffany, leading
the way out.

While the pilot checked the remaining Ospreys, we kept an
eye on the surroundings.  To my great relief, nothing and no one appeared
to bother us.

“None of the V-22s are going to fly,” Vance said after
nearly ten minutes of checking them.  “There’s two of them with juice in
their batteries, but no fuel.”

“Can’t we transfer the fuel from this one?”  I asked
without taking my eyes off my area of responsibility.

“We can, but it will take a lot of time.  I’m starting
to wonder if these should have been red-tagged, and were left behind for a
reason.”

“Any bright ideas, or are we driving again?”

“Saw some helos from the air, on the far side of those
hangars,” he said, pointing.  “We should check them out before we make a
decision.”

I thought about that for a moment, then nodded
agreement.  We all piled into the Tahoe and drove down the flight line
before cutting between two massive hangars.  Behind them was a secondary
flight line for rotor wing aircraft.  There was a lot of empty space, and
the only helicopters remaining were five hulking Chinooks.

“Can you fly one of those?”  I asked, staring at the
twin rotor behemoths.

“They’re actually easier to fly than an Osprey,” Vance said
as I pulled to a stop next to one.  “Let’s hope they’re airworthy.”

We repeated the process, the girls, Dog and I standing watch
while he checked out the closest aircraft.  I turned when he shouted from
the hatch.

“Sit tight.  I’m going to take it up and make sure we
don’t have another problem.”