Transmission: Voodoo Plague Book 5 (14 page)

It’s almost 600 air miles from Oklahoma City to El Paso.  We
were more than an hour into the flight and I hadn’t been able to fall asleep. 
Damn, air travel is boring when you can’t sleep.  I sat in the back of the
Stealth Hawk, Martinez once again at the controls.  She had a young Lieutenant
flying co-pilot, so I couldn’t even go up front and trade barbs with her to
alleviate the boredom. 

Brent Cummings, the President’s COS sat in a web sling at the
rear of the aircraft.  He was trying very hard to not make eye contact with me,
alternately feigning sleeping or reading from a thick file.  After the briefing
and conversation with Irina I had seen him wandering around outside the admin
building, satellite phone pressed to his ear.  Probably complaining to the new
president about the thuggish military.  Fuck him.  If he wants to see thuggish… 

The remaining three SADMs were tightly secured at the back
of the space, close to Cummings.  Rachel was crashed out on the deck, head
pillowed on Dog as they both slept soundly.  I sat looking at them, wishing we
were on a beach somewhere, drinking margaritas and throwing a Frisbee into the surf
for Dog to chase.

I was sitting there, enjoying the day dream, picturing
Rachel in a tiny little bikini when the co-pilot tapped my shoulder.  Looking
up, still lost in my fantasy, I didn’t understand at first what he wanted. 
Finally I got the message and stuck my headphone plug into a jack on the
bulkhead.

“What’s up, Captain?”  I asked, talking to Martinez.

“Tinker on the radio for you, sir.  Captain Blanchard.”  She
answered.

“Thanks.”  I said.  There were a couple of clicks then I
could hear an open circuit.  “Dog two six here.”

“Major, I’m watching a large herd of infected moving across
the desert, and they’re on a track to pass very close to your RP.”  He meant
rendezvous point.  “Current speed and distance will put the leading edge in
your area at about 2230 local.”

“How large?”  I asked, sitting up straight and paying
attention.

“Herd’s about four miles long and half a mile wide.  Best
guess is close to three million.”  I was quiet for a long moment.

“That’s most of El Paso and Juarez, or close enough to not
matter.  What the hell is going on?”  I asked.

“Wish I could tell you, sir.  They entered the edge of
detection for the Predator about half an hour ago and we’re doing flyovers to
try and figure that out.  I’m trying to get some satellite images from the past
few days to see if I can determine what caused it.” 

“If you draw a straight line along their track, where are
they headed?”  I asked.

“Stand by.”  I could hear some clattering as he typed away
on his laptop.  After a few minutes he came back on the radio. 

“Straight line leads them here to Oklahoma City.”  He said,
sounding a little shaken. 

That’s OK.  I felt a little shaken, too.  What the hell was
going on?  What could possibly entice a herd of three million infected to set out
on a several hundred mile journey?  I had wondered what was driving the herds that
had collapsed in on Tennessee from the north, east and south, but hadn’t given
it that much thought.  Maybe it was time for someone smarter than me to figure
this out before millions of hungry mouths showed up looking for the buffet in
Oklahoma.

“Anything else I need to know?”  I asked.  I was confident
Colonel Crawford already knew about the herd and didn’t feel it necessary to
instruct Blanchard to tell him.

“No, sir.  I’ll update you in a couple of hours.”  He
disconnected and the circuit went quiet.

I sat there looking at Rachel and Dog, trying to return to
my earlier fantasies, but all I could think about was the infected.  Why the
hell had they converged on Tennessee like that?  And now, why were they
marching on the largest remaining concentration of survivors in North America? 
It was almost like there was an intelligence directing them.  But how?

Was it possible the smart females were able to control the
others?  I didn’t see how.  Besides, even if they could, how the hell would
they know to head for Oklahoma?  Ridiculous ideas from a lifetime of watching
bad science fiction movies went through my head.  The females were psychic and
knew the location of a large concentration of survivors.  Some alien being was
directing their actions.  Several other stupid thoughts floated around my mind,
then I fell asleep and dreamt of that sandy beach, but the only bikinis were
being worn by a pack of infected females.

Nearly three hours later the co-pilot shook me awake to tell
me Blanchard was on the radio again.  I had been dreaming I was treading water
half a mile off a beach full of infected and a shark had just shown up.  I was
glad to leave that world behind, even though the one I was in wasn’t any
better.

“The herd hasn’t changed direction or speed.”  He said as
soon as I turned my headset on.  “You’re going to have half an hour at the most
once you’re on the ground.”

“Can you slow them down with the Predator?”  I asked,
stretching my back and groaning internally as muscles protested.

“We had to pull the Predator out of the area.  The Russians
spotted it and tried to shoot it down.  We were able to evade, but if I send it
back in they’re going to get curious about why we’re so interested in that area
of the desert.”  He said.

“Understood.”  I answered.  “What about the back up we
discussed?”

“On the way.  There were some mechanical issues due to
delayed maintenance.  They’re a little more than two hours behind you.”

“Well, hell, Captain.  I don’t call that back up.  Do you?” 
I asked, sarcastically.

“No, sir.  I don’t.  But it’s the best we can do.”  He
answered, sounding impervious to my tone.  He was a Colonel’s aide.  Of course
he was impervious to sarcasm.

“Sorry, Captain.  Just tired of operating without anyone
watching my ass.  Anything else?”

“We’ve got what we assume is Captain Vostov’s helicopter on
satellite, in transit to the RP.  Satellite thermal scans show two pilots and
three passengers.  They should be arriving right on schedule.”  He said. 
“Other than that, the Colonel wanted me to pass on his wishes for a safe and
successful mission.”

“Thank him for me, Captain.  And thanks for the update. 
I’ll check in once the transfer is complete.”  I said, shutting down the
connection.

Removing the headset, I stood and stretched.  Dog opened his
eyes and looked up at me, tail lazily brushing across the steel deck.  He
didn’t get up and Rachel continued to sleep, head pillowed on his belly. 
“She’s going to smell like a dog.”  I thought to myself, and barely suppressed
a snort of laughter.  Bending over, I rubbed Dog’s neck, his eyes closing when
I touched him.

Cummings was asleep when I checked on him.  He was really
asleep this time, held into a small jump seat by a harness, head hanging down
and swaying with the motion of the helicopter.  For a moment I thought about
sneaking back and dipping his hand in warm water so he’d piss his pants, then I
told the teenage boy part of my brain to shut up and headed for the cockpit.

“Where are we, Martinez?”  I asked, sticking my head between
the two seats.

“About 45 minutes out, sir.  Had to swing a little to the
southeast to stay out of the Russian’s CAP.  We flew over Midland – Odessa
about fifteen minutes ago.”  She said, raising her helmet’s visor and turning
to look at me.

“Any signs of life?”  I asked.

“A few pockets of light, including a large refinery and a
couple of oil rigs lit up like Christmas trees.  Was able to zoom in on a
couple of them and they’re pumping oil.  The refinery looked like it was in
operation.”  That was great news.  Fuel stores would start running out soon,
and if there was still an oil field and refinery in operation, we might just be
able to put planes in the air a few months from now when the reserves ran dry.

“Did you call it in?”  I asked.

“I called it in to Air, but they didn’t sound terribly
excited.”

“Get me Captain Blanchard on the radio again.”  I said
without hesitation. 

Close to a minute later the co-pilot gestured and I grabbed
my headset and filled him in on what Martinez had just told me. 

“Are you sure you want to do that?”  He asked.  Before I
could answer there was a click and Crawford joined the conversation.

“I was listening in, Major, and I concur we need to secure
that oil field and refinery, but we can do that after you drop off the
packages.”  Crawford said.

My backup was 100 Marines from the MEU on board a flight of
four V22 Ospreys.  The Osprey is a tilt rotor aircraft that can takeoff, hover
and land like a helicopter.  Once it’s in the air the engine nacelles tilt and
it transitions into forward flight like a propeller driven plane.  Many think
it’s a big improvement over helicopters.  Maybe it is if you like the ability
to carry more troops, and carry them twice as fast and five times farther than
a helicopter.  The Marines love them.  I’ll still take a Huey or Black Hawk to
get my ass into a combat zone.

“Sir, the Jarheads are far enough behind me that it won’t
make any difference if they divert to secure the oil production.  And it might
make a difference if they get there sooner.  We both know how quickly things go
to shit when the infected show up in numbers.”  I said.

Crawford was silent for a moment.  “OK, Major.  I’ll re-task
them.  Just watch your ass out there.  I’m tired of having to come find you.”

“No worries, sir.  The only river around here is less than
five feet deep.”  I cut the connection and grinned to myself. 

“With a mouth like that, I see why you weren’t an officer
before the attacks.  Sir.”  Martinez quipped. 

“Not all of us make it on affirmative action, Captain.”  I
shot back.

“Sir, I’ll have you know I happen to have a great pair of
tits and killer legs.  Nothing impresses a promotion board like tits and legs.” 
She laughed.  The co-pilot had turned in his seat and was staring at us like we
had just suggested committing treason or something else equally horrifying.

“Relax, Lieutenant.”  Martinez said to him.  “The way people
are dying you may be a Colonel by this time next month.  Laugh when you can. 
There may not be a tomorrow.”

She was joking, but it was also a sad truth.  The fastest way
to get promoted in the military has always been in time of war.  Officers and
senior NCOs get killed, they need to be replaced.  While it could take years
during peacetime to get promoted, it can happen very quickly when people start dying. 
It’s not the way I ever wanted to get promoted, but it’s part of being in the
military.  At the end of the day, without officers to make decisions and NCOs to
make sure those decisions are carried out, the military would grind to a halt.

“We’ve got about half an hour, sir.  We’re approaching the
edge of the Russian CAP and I’m going to take us down onto the deck for the
rest of the flight.  You might want to strap in and make sure everyone else
back there is too.”  Martinez said, serious again.

“Thanks, Jennifer.”  I said, using her given name for the
first time.  It wasn’t disrespectful.  It was letting her know I trusted her
and she was part of the team.  She’d earned it in spades when we were in Los
Alamos.  The woman had more guts and grit than most men I’ve ever known.

In the back I woke Rachel.  She stretched and sat up, Dog
gratefully standing and shaking to loosen the knots I’m sure he had to have. 
From the moment Rachel had laid her head on him, he hadn’t moved.  Somehow he
knew she needed the rest, and was willing to give up his comfort for her. 

With Rachel strapped in, I seated myself and pulled a
harness over my shoulders and chest.  Clicking the locks into place I looked up
at Cummings and thought about waking him, but dismissed the idea.  He was
strapped in, and if he got a little surprise the first time Martinez made a
hard turn at speed, well, that would probably be good for him.

Roach sat behind the wheel of the Humvee, parked on the far
side of a grassy field from where a large group of children were playing.  He
wasn’t watching the children, however.  His attention was fully focused on
Katie Chase as she constantly moved around the edge of the playground, ensuring
the kids were behaving and not doing anything too risky.  She was dressed in a
pair of Air Force issue uniform pants and a simple tank top, her long hair up
in a pony tail that bounced every time she took a step.  He was mesmerized by
the pony tail, fantasizing about holding it in his hand and using it to control
her head as he violated her body.

He had fought with Synthia earlier, and had sought out the
Major’s wife to distract himself.  They had not been able to indulge their needs
enough to satisfy Synthia, and she was impatient.  He had explained to her that
they were cut off.  Surrounded by infected with no way to go back into town
with another woman.  She had screamed at him, sulking off and slamming the
bedroom door like the child she really was.

The thought of following her into the bedroom and slipping a
knife into her heart had gone through his head.  He had even started to move in
that direction, drawing the blade he wore under his left sleeve.  At the
bedroom door he had paused as he reached for the knob.  If he killed her, what
would he do with the body? 

Tinker Air Force Base was large, but it was also crowded
with both military personnel and thousands of civilian refugees.  Someone was
always awake and about, and he didn’t think he could move the body without
being noticed.  He certainly couldn’t keep it in the house.  Within a day it
would start smelling and only grow worse until a neighbor or passerby noticed. 
With a sigh he had re-sheathed the knife, turned and walked out the front door.

Driving around to clear his head he had stopped to watch
several C-130’s arrive, a dozen V22 Ospreys coming in right behind them.  The
Marines he’d heard about were here.  Great.  Even more eyes around to prevent
him from playing his games.  Moving on, he had intended to just drive by the
barrack where Katie was housed, but when he’d seen her outside with the
children he’d had to stop.  Now all he could think about was the feel of her
naked body squirming beneath him as he punished her for the Major’s sins. 

Curiosity had driven him to make some discreet inquiries,
and he’d been terrified to learn that Major Chase was also at Tinker.  And so were
the bitch and the dog.  How the hell had they all survived?  It didn’t matter. 
What did matter was that if any of them got so much as a glimpse of him, he was
certain he was dead.  The Major would kill him on sight; of that there was no
doubt.  Unless he had some leverage.

It was then that he recognized he didn’t want to share that
with Synthia.  She might be a kindred spirit, but she was a liability.  Roach
had survived as long as he had because he hadn’t taken chances.  He only took
women that couldn’t be traced back to him, and he had never told anyone before
Synthia about what he liked to do.  She already knew enough to get him
arrested, and in today’s world he suspected a court martial would be swift.  As
would the punishment.  It would be his word against hers, and she had the marks
on her body that would sway belief firmly into her court.  But how to get rid
of her?

While he had been thinking, Katie had decided the children
had played long enough.  With help from a couple of other women she began
rounding them up and herding them towards the barrack.  With a sigh he watched
until the last child went into the building, the Major’s wife bringing up the
rear.  She paused at the door, looking around like she felt his eyes on her
back.  As she stood there in profile he imagined her naked.  The strong, lithe
body made oh so feminine by her thick hair, large breasts and curved hips. 
Then she closed the door and he lost the mental picture.

Cursing, he started the Hummer and drove off, his erection
painfully pushing against his trousers.  Driving, he turned his thoughts back
to Synthia.  The decision to cut his losses with her was already made, he just
had to come up with a way to do it without getting caught.  Roach didn’t want
to die, but more than death he feared capture and the humiliation of the
spectacle he would become.

People would call him crazy.  A psychopath.  A serial
killer.  They wouldn’t understand.  Wouldn’t be able to comprehend his needs. 
Besides, he had never taken anyone that was worth anything.  All the women had
been sluts.  His first kill, the cheerleader in high school, had slept with
most of the football team.  Then there had been the party girls.  The ones in
the clubs in short dresses that would sleep with anyone they thought had money
or drugs.  There had been prostitutes too, and none of them had been what
society would call virtuous.  He had done society a service.

Smiling, Roach pulled to the side of the road.  He was at
the extreme eastern edge of the base and had stopped next to the water
treatment facility.  The plant was huge, covering a couple of acres with giant tanks
and a veritable forest of pipes.  Catwalks circled the tanks and were woven
through the piping.  Butting against the perimeter fence, he could see several
places where the narrow walkways extended above the fence.

Still smiling, he turned the wheel and accelerated back down
the road.  Excitement coursed through his body and he had to force himself to
slow down.  The last thing he needed right now was to get caught speeding on
base.  Sure, he’d probably not get a citation like most other drivers, but he’d
wind up standing in front of Lieutenant Colonel Lewis, getting his ass chewed
up one side and down the other.  He didn’t need that kind of attention.

Roach had always been a master at controlling his emotions,
but this was getting the best of him.  He drove fast.  Nearly double the posted
limit but made it to his small house without encountering any Security Forces
patrols.  Parking on the street in front, he jumped out and dashed inside,
heart still beating a mile a minute.  Synthia was sitting on the sofa, refusing
to look at him when he charged inside.

“Come on,” he said.  “I’ve got us a way to get off the
base.”  She looked up and smiled, jumping to her feet a moment later.

“I knew you’d think of something!  Now?  You have someone?” 
She cried, rushing forward to wrap her arms around him.

“We’ll find someone in town.  There’s plenty of women, and
more arriving every day!  Are you ready to go?”  The excitement in his voice
was infectious and Synthia ran to the bedroom to get her shoes and large purse
with her “toys” inside.

“Let’s go!”  She said brightly, dashing back into the front
room, yanking the door open and running outside.

Minutes later they were driving along the perimeter road. 
The prospect of a new victim had made Synthia forget her earlier anger.  She
was bubbly and effusive as Roach drove, describing what she wanted to do this
time.  He smiled and nodded, laughing with her, again driving too fast but not
caring.  Reaching the plant, he turned into the parking lot and shut off the
engine.

“What are we doing here?”  Synthia asked, looking around.

“It’s our way out.  All the gates are shut, but we can get
over the fence here and slip into town.”  He said, opening his door and
stepping out.

“But what about the infected?”  Synthia asked, getting out
and following him into the maze of pipes and tanks.

“There aren’t any here.  You’ll see.  We just have to climb
up some scaffolding and then take an emergency exit over the fence.”  Roach
reached out and took her hand in his, leading her deeper into the facility. 

Pausing, he looked around and identified the catwalk he
wanted.  Still leading, he moved onto the metal stairs.  Synthia was talking a
steady stream as they climbed and started out on a series of grates that were
30 feet in the air.  The walkway curved around the side of a tank and suddenly
they were out of the shelter of the pipes.  As they continued along the bend,
Roach could look down through the grating and see the 12 foot chain link
perimeter fence directly beneath his feet.  Half the catwalk and the handrail
extended beyond the fence line.

A chorus of screams sounded from below and Synthia jerked to
a stop and looked down at a seething mass of infected.  There was an equal mix
of males and females, the females having seen them and becoming agitated.  Their
excitement spread through the surrounding infected like wildfire.  They began slamming
against the barrier, making the wire mesh ring as it impacted the steel posts
that supported it.

“You said there weren’t any infected,” she said, starting to
look up at Roach.  Before she could complete the turn to face him, he hit her
on the side of the head with a leather sap he had withdrawn from his pocket. 
Synthia’s eyes rolled up as her knees buckled, her body collapsing to the metal
grating. 

“I lied.”  Roach said, slipping the sap back into his pocket
and ripping her purse open.

Inside the purse he found two knives, a pair of pliers and a
small butane torch that would normally be used to lite cigars.  Synthia didn’t
smoke cigars.  He took the knives and pliers, putting all of the items into his
pockets.  If by some miracle her body was found and recovered, he didn’t want any
weapons found on it.  Not that the times didn’t justify a young lady arming
herself with whatever weapon she could find, it was just one of the small
details that he paid attention to.

Squatting, he worked his arms under her body and stood with
her cradled against him.  Stepping forward, he grunted as he lifted her to
clear the handrail, her eyes fluttering open.

“What are you…”  She started to say, but the words turned
into a brief scream when he dropped her to the waiting mouths below.

Synthia struck one of the males, knocking him to the ground
and coming to rest on top of his body.  Before she could move, several females
fell on her, almost sounding delighted in their screams.  She screamed once
more, but it was brief, cut off when a female locked her teeth on Synthia’s
throat.  Roach stood staring down, fascinated.  And strangely aroused at the
orgy of blood that was taking place 30 feet below him. 

“Don’t have to worry about body disposal anymore.”  He
mumbled to himself, turning to head back to the Humvee, freezing when he saw
the man looking at him.

The man was on an adjacent catwalk, dressed in a set of blue
coveralls with Tech Sergeant stripes on the sleeves.  He stared at Roach with
his mouth open in a silent ‘O’ of shock at what he’d just witnessed.  Roach
mentally screamed at himself for not having made sure there weren’t any
maintenance workers on site before killing Synthia.

He didn’t move at first, standing as still as the shocked
man.  Flicking his eyes around he found the path to get to the other catwalk,
and started walking forward with his empty hands raised in a calming gesture.

“It’s not what it looks like.”  He shouted to the man.  “She
was infected.  Just starting to turn.  I had to get rid of her before she
killed someone.” 

While he was talking, Roach had covered half the distance to
the connecting walkway that led to the one the man was standing on. 

“I didn’t have a choice.  She was going to become one of
them.”  Roach pointed at the mass of writhing bodies on the other side of the
fence and the man automatically turned his head and looked down at the
infected.

As soon as his attention was diverted, Roach sprinted.  He
reached the connecting walkway, made the turn at speed by grabbing onto the
handrail and charged the man.  Drawing one of Synthia’s knives he ran with it
held low, ready to thrust upwards in a killing strike.  The man finally
recognized the danger and turned to run. 

But he had waited too long and allowed Roach to draw too
close.  He had taken three steps when Roach thrust the knife into his lower
back.  The 10 inch, razor sharp blade sliced into his kidney which immobilized
the man by instantly throwing his body into severe shock.  Roach pushed him
down onto his face, pulled the knife out and stabbed two more times to make
sure he wasn’t able to move or fight back.

Grabbing the man’s feet he dragged the body along the
catwalk until he was back at the spot where he had thrown Synthia over. 
Looking down he could see what remained of her corpse, shocked at how much had already
been consumed by the infected.  Working his arms under the man, he avoided the
blood as best he could and levered the body up and on the handrail.  It
teetered for a moment before tipping fully over and crashing onto the heads of
the infected that were still feeding on Roach’s earlier offering.