The Death: The Complete Trilogy Page 7

  The fatigue Tess was experiencing was greater, as she didn’t just sit, she lay down.

  “Don’t go to sleep over there,” Devin joked.

  “My fiancé use to tell me, ‘Why stand when you can sit, why sit when you can lay down, and why not sleep if you’re lying down?’” she replied, taking a long stretch, her head propped up on her backpack.

  “I couldn’t agree more.”

  Brando walked up and licked Devin on the face, then sauntered off and curled up near his feet.

  “Hey, boy, how are you holding up?” Devin asked, surprised by Brando’s affection.

  “Ha, he’s starting to take to you,” Tess commented.

  “I’ve never been much of a dog person, but I’m taking to him too,” Devin said.

  Tess sat up, took off her body armor, and lifted her bloody shirt. “Damn.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just this, it won’t stop bleeding. I think I’ll need your help with sewing me back up,” she said as she examined the wound.

  “You never told me how you got that.”

  “Those goons shot at me. This is just a graze.”

  Devin pulled off his pack and crawled over to her side.

  She pulled out a first aid kit and unzipped it for him. Taking a large gauze, she poured some hydrogen peroxide on it and began to clean the now exposed wound. With each gentle swipe she grimaced.

  Devin didn’t know what to do. She asked for his help, but he felt like a third wheel.

  When she was done, she clipped and removed the old stitches and removed them.

  He couldn’t believe what he was seeing; she was so tough and capable.

  “You stitched yourself up?”

  “No, Brando did it,” she joked.

  “Where did you learn to do that?”

  “In the kit is a needle and thread, pour some peroxide on it, and give it to me,” she instructed.

  He did as she said and handed it to her.

  Pressing her flesh together, she began the process.

  Devin cringed when she poked the needle through the first time, but soon was mesmerized by how gentle and precise she was.

  “You’re good at that,” he remarked.

  She ignored him, staying focused on the task at hand until she finished, placing a fresh bandage and tape on the wound.

  “There, hope that one holds,” she said.

  “Me too, for your sake.”

  She dug through her bag and pulled out bottled water and guzzled it.

  “That was a hard run. Let’s take an extended break and plan where we go from here,” she said.

  “Good, I’m tired.”

  “Did you see anything that might tell us the name of the town?” she asked.

  “I didn’t really look for one.”

  She again dove into her pack and pulled out a small pair of binoculars. “Here,” she said, handing them to him.

  Devin took them and crawled to the edge of the field. He swept the seemingly empty town from left to right and back again. Not a person or animal was moving, and not a sign on the roads he saw listed the name. On his second sweep through town, he caught the name ‘Lovington’ on a restaurant sign.

  “I don’t see any official sign, but I do see a commercial sign that mentions Lovington.”

  She had her map out and answered, “Lovington would make sense. God, we ran far.”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “No wonder we’re tired; we ran about ten miles.”

  “My legs are already sore. There’s no way we’re walking all the way to North Carolina. We need to look at getting a car or something.”

  “Traveling on roads can be dangerous.”

  “It can’t be any more dangerous than this?”

  “Believe me, I’ve been traveling for some time; cars can be death traps.”

  “Well, if I have to keep doing this, I’ll die from a damn heart attack,” he joked.

  “Maybe you’re right; there isn’t a safe place anywhere.”

  “Tell me more about the guys who shot you,” he asked while still scanning the town.

  All he could see was a cluster of homes, a residential neighborhood, but no commercial buildings of any type. He knew they only had a couple days of food to split, so scouting some of the homes for food might be a good idea, after they rested, of course.

  “I ran into them miles north of Decatur. They’re just a rogue group of thugs, all Immuners who have one purpose, causing mayhem.”

  “I don’t understand why people would do that. We should be coming together, not tearing each other apart,” he said as he crawled back and sat down.

  “The irony of it all is The Death spared all walks of life, good, bad and indifferent. The problem we have is now the bad don’t have the threat of being arrested. It’s as if The Death brought out the real person lurking inside the souls of people.”

  “Like what, made people bad?”

  “No, the bad person was always there. The Death didn’t make them that way, it gave them a world where they could be themselves.”

  “So what did these guys want?”

  “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

  “I guess not.”

  “They’re just a pack of butchers, and we need to stay clear of them.”

  “I agree, but it sounds like we’ll be running into others just like ’em somewhere else along our way.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “So what’s the plan?”

  “Lay low here, take a nap till it gets dark; then we’ll move under the cover of darkness. Safer that way.”

  “Good, I’m tired.”

  “Not yet, we take turns, and since I’m the lady, I’ll use that to get first dibs at sleeping.”

  Devin smiled and said, “Deal, I do owe you.”

  “That you do. Wake me in three hours or if we have to bug out.”

  “Sleep tight.”

  Tess fell back against her pack and rolled onto her good side and fell almost instantly asleep.

  Devin, not trusting his ears, went back to his covered position near the edge and pulled the binoculars back out and began to continue looking for any movement. So as to not fall asleep, he made a game out of his surveillance. He counted the houses, then cars, then sorted the cars by color, make and model. He took in every detail and committed it to memory. He thought it made sense to truly get to know what was out in front of them, because by nightfall, they’d be heading that way.

  Arcadia

  Chance promised the ride to Arcadia from the DIA would be quick, about an hour. All on the team were excited, and when they boarded the MV-22B Osprey, they found the perfect number of windows to view their trip from.

  Lori had never flown in a helicopter before, and the Osprey looked like one until it was airborne; then it transformed itself into an airplane when its propellers tipped horizontally and locked in place. It was the strangest aircraft she and the others had ever seen, but for the crew of Marines onboard, it was just like any other flight for them.

  The first minutes of the flight took them over Denver and the foothills. Twenty minutes into the flight, they were in the Rocky Mountains.

  Lori didn’t stop looking at the ground below; she loved watching the topography change from the flat plains near the airport, to the rolling foothills to the jagged granite Rocky Mountains. The Osprey stayed close to the mountaintops and weaved through a series of long valleys until they crested one last mountain, and there below them was a pristine valley, approximately four miles wide and twelve miles long, with a river that coursed through it like a snake.

  Over her headset Chance said, “That’s it, that’s our blank canvas below.”

  Lori smiled; she felt very important now and loved having purpose.

  As the Osprey drew closer, Lori spotted a camp that looked similar to Camp 13 but had to be ten times larger. Curious what it was, she asked, “Is that a FEMA camp at the north end?”

  “Yes, it is. That’s Camp Sierra,” Chan
ce answered.

  “So it does exist,” she said.

  “Of course it does,” he responded.

  “Earlier you made it sound like it didn’t,” Maggie answered over the headset.

  “Camp Sierra is one of many beta settlements around the world. When we break ground, CS will become the home to the thousands of laborers and personnel like you.”

  Hearing this brought joy to Lori; this sacrifice she was making would lead to her family finally joining her later. Dying to hear a confirmation, she had to ask, “Chance, when we relocate to Camp Sierra, will our families be joining us?”

  “Absolutely, Lori, when our work is done at the DIA, we will relocate your families there.”

  That was exactly what she wanted to hear.

  The Osprey banked over Camp Sierra and headed towards the central part of the valley. As it dropped in altitude, the propellers began to tilt up again, once again transforming the aircraft into a helicopter.

  A Marine crew chief spoke on the headset. “Three minutes to touchdown in the LZ. That means no more rubbernecking, people, take your seats.”

  Everyone obeyed his command, sat down, and buckled their seat belts for the landing.

  The pilot brought the Osprey down so gently that Lori swore he landed on a large pillow.

  Once the propellers stopped, the rear ramp lowered, and the crew chief called out, “You’re clear; you can go.”

  Everyone unbuckled, took off their headsets, and stood to get off.

  Lori was almost shaking with excitement. She thought about how much can change in a day. Just yesterday she could barely get herself out of bed because of her depression, and now she was a member of a team that would build what appeared to be the first of many new cities to save the human race.

  She stepped off the metal ramp and onto the tall thick green grasses of the valley floor. Reaching down, she felt the tips of the grasses and pulled some from the ground so that she could hold them. Wanting to lock this moment into her memory, she brought the grasses to her nose and smelled. With her eyes closed, she let the feelings of hope lock in. Opening them, she took in the view. The valley stretched out of sight and was surrounded by the most beautiful mountains, their granite tops still covered in snow from the harsh winter. The temperature was perfect, a moderate sixty-five degrees, and the sky was an intense blue, with not a cloud to be seen.

  “Over here!” Chance hollered.

  She looked and saw him about fifty feet away up on a slight rise, standing next to a red-flagged stake.

  She hurried to the spot with the others, and all stopped just in front of him.

  “Right here, where this stake is, is the center of Arcadia. This will be the exact center of the new capital building that you, Lori, will build.”

  She couldn’t help but smile when he mentioned her name.

  “Look around, people. You are some of the founding members of our new home ,” Chance said; his voice rose at the end as he lifted his arms.

  The mention of a ‘new home’ and ‘founding members’ rang odd to Lori, but she didn’t want to focus on it in a negative way. So much had changed that she didn’t know what was right or wrong anymore, so without a baseline, she went with her gut instinct, and that told her that this was right.

  Again, Chance dominated the meeting and talked for almost an hour nonstop. He brought some of his preliminary drawings and plans and glowed with excitement as he pointed out the geographical points. He walked them through what would be the future streets of Arcadia. He asked them to imagine the marble and granite buildings that would line the streets, the bustling shops and markets where the city dwellers would go and purchase their wares. He talked to the point where Lori believed he’d pass out from lack of breathing.

  Lori's imagination was in full gear and saw everything Chance described. No one asked questions as he walked them from one point to another. When they came to the far western edge of the valley, Lori spotted a group of people heading towards them. She squinted to make them out, but it was difficult as they were too far out.

  “Who is that?” Brad asked, seeing them too.

  “Who?” Chance responded, surprised by the question. He looked over his shoulder towards the small group.

  “Are they surveyors?” Maggie asked.

  Chance pulled out a small spyglass from his upper pocket and put it to his right eye. He adjusted the optics till they came fully into focus. A look of astonishment racked his face as he barked out, “Everybody, let’s head back to the Osprey. Come on, let’s go. Hurry!”

  Lori looked to see if she could identify who this unknown threat was, but they were still too far out.

  “Let’s go, people,” Chance ordered.

  Everyone listened without hesitation except for Lori, who stood in the same spot and kept looking at the group of what she estimated to be over a dozen people.

  “Lori, come on!” Chance ordered.

  She turned to face Chance when the loud crack of a whip snapped near her right ear, followed by the echoing of a gunshot in the distance.

  “Lori, hurry, they’re shooting at you!” Chance yelled.

  Never having been shot at, she didn’t recognize that signature cracking sound of a bullet going by her head. Movies always described it one way, but what she heard was strange and scary. Reflexively she crouched down and began to sprint towards the Osprey that was easily a half mile away. A steady stream of fear filled her as she realized how vulnerable she and the others were in the open valley. They were unarmed and exposed to the threat, a group of people who obviously wanted to shoot and kill them.

  More shots rang out as the sound reverberated through the valley and bounced off the eastern mountains.

  “Who are they?” Lori screamed.

  “They’re Scraps. Now come on, hurry!” Chance screamed.

  The Marines on the Osprey heard the gunfire and readied the .50-caliber machine gun; the only issue was Chance and the others were in the line of fire.

  Not knowing exactly what to do, Lori began to zigzag through the tall grasses, hoping that she would make a difficult target.

  More gunfire from the Scraps came their way, fortunately missing everyone.

  As they closed in on the Osprey, Lori began to feel that they’d all make it.

  The propellers on the Osprey began to turn slowly as the pilots began their prep for takeoff.

  “We’re almost there, faster, faster!” Chance yelled.

  Lori was so focused on getting to the aircraft that she never noticed she had passed Maggie. When she hit the ramp of the Osprey, she looked back and saw Maggie was barely running at a jog.

  Brad made the ramp and dove into the fuselage, panting and hacking.

  Chance was right behind him.

  The crew chief called loud enough into his headset mic that Lori could hear, “All on board but one.”

  The .50 caliber suddenly came to life.

  Lori watched in horror as the tracer rounds flew just a few feet from Maggie.

  The roar of the machine gun made Maggie scream. She was in a full panic, her heart rate racing and her head spinning. The altitude of the valley was near 8,500 feet, so that added to her cardiovascular issues. Now her pace had slowed to a jog with repeated stops to catch her breath.

  Then Lori saw her fall; she disappeared into the tall grass. Not one hundred feet behind her were the Scraps, and they were closing in,firing as they went.

  The propellers of the Osprey were now spinning fast .

  The crew chief yelled at Chance, “Sir, want us to go get her?”

  “Where is she?” he asked.

  “Not sure, sir, she collapsed some forty feet out.”

  The .50 caliber was still laying down fire, but the Scraps had spread out and were taking aim on the Osprey. Pings and pangs began to be heard from their fire hitting the side of the Osprey.

  “Take us out of here,” Chance ordered upon hearing the rounds hitting the side of the aircraft.

  Lori looked
at Chance in horror and barked, “You can’t leave her! She’s one of us!”

  “Not anymore, she’s a Scrap now,” he snapped at her, then turned back to the crew chief and said, “Get us out of here!”

  Lori was still standing on the ramp when it began to rise. “No, we can’t leave her!”

  The crew chief marched over, grabbed her by the arm, dragged her to a chair, and tossed her in it.

  “No, no, we can’t leave her!” Lori screamed.

  Brad was sitting across from her. He was trembling in fear and appeared to be in shock.

  She shot Chance a look of hate.

  He looked away and buckled his seat belt.

  The Osprey lifted up quickly and banked away from the direction of the Scraps. The Marine manning the machine gun was still engaging as they lifted.

  Once they were high enough, Chance unbuckled and made his way to a window and looked out. He then motioned for Lori to come.

  She didn’t hesitate. Unbuckling quickly, she marched towards him, again ready to chew his ass.

  “I know you don’t agree with leaving her, but she’s lost to us now. Look down there; see them?”

  She looked and saw a dozen men around Maggie, who was kneeling with her hands in the air.

  “How could you leave her there to die?” Lori asked.

  “They won’t kill her,” Chance said. He pointed into the distance.

  She looked where he was pointing and saw hundreds of people pouring out of the tree line and heading towards Camp Sierra.

  “What’s going on? Who are these Scraps?”

  “They’re a hateful group of people who are trying to do whatever they can to stop us. They don’t want things to progress.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  As the Osprey banked hard again to the left, she saw what must have been dozens of armored vehicles coming out of Camp Sierra.

  “What will happen?” she asked.

  “The Marines we have guarding Camp Sierra will clean them up. They don’t stand a chance against their firepower.”

  “I don’t understand. Who are these people? Why are they fighting against us?” Lori asked, her questions all jumbled together reflecting her thoughts.

  “Lori, please go sit down, rest. I’ll explain everything later.”