Hostile Page 12

  Danielle was sobbing, wrapped in Chase’s arms.

  “It came running at us,” Chase explained. “Danielle freaked out. She wouldn’t let me go.”

  “It’s alright,” I said. “You’re safe, and that’s all that matters. Come on, let’s get inside.”

  Keanu assisted Dr. Simon toward the house— he still hadn’t said a word. He would just need a lot of rest after this encounter.

  I followed Chase and Danielle. She was still trembling, and the closer we got to the house, the more difficult it became for Chase to calm her.

  From her struggling, it was apparent that she desperately did not want to be here, and it made me wonder if any of the survivors we’d found were part of her hive. They all seemed to have that same crazed look in their eyes. Wondering if she'd eaten human meat to survive made me sick to my stomach.

  As we neared the house, the bodies had already been piled up outside, and I could hear Jimenez moaning. Hurrying inside, I saw him laying on the floor. Keanu had a tight tourniquet right above his knee. They’d torn his pants, revealing the bite. It looked gnarly.

  “Put me out, and cut it off,” Jimenez yelled through gritted teeth.

  “What happened?” Dr. Simon finally spoke.

  “An Arvy bit him,” I whispered.

  “Jones,” Jimenez called.

  Jones knelt at his side and took hold of his hand. “What do you need, brother?”

  Jimenez patted Jones’ chest with his free hand. “You were right, man.”

  “About what?”

  “The damn Arvies prefer Mexican. Who knew?” He laughed out loud, then moaned in pain.

  Jones shook his head. “How can you crack jokes in your condition?”

  “In my next life, I’m going to be a comedian. I can feel it,” he wheezed and closed his eyes.

  “Jimenez?” Jones murmured, leaning down, his brow deeply furrowed.

  Jimenez’s eyes snapped open. “What?” he yelled, making Jones jump.

  “Dammit. I thought you were—”

  “Nope.” Jimenez clinched his teeth and groaned. “Not dead yet.”

  “You’re not gonna die, man,” Jones said, his brow furrowed.

  “I don’t want to turn into one of those things. Cut my damn leg off if you have to.” Jimenez’s face crumpled in pain, his body trembling. Sweat beaded, on his forehead, running down his face and soaking his shirt.

  Dr. Simon stepped close to Keanu and whispered, “Do you have pain medication?”

  He nodded. “I have morphine auto-injectors.”

  “Grab what you have and administer the first shot.”

  The room felt cold and dark, as if death had stepped into the doorway. Keanu opened his medical pack and gave him the first shot of morphine. The rest of the soldiers gathered around Jimenez, the mood incredibly somber. Sergeant Hawkins knelt next to him, resting his hand on Jimenez’s forehead.

  His moaning slowly subsided. Grabbing hold of his tags, he pulled them from around his neck and held them up. “Hey, Sarge, tell my family I love them, okay?”

  Sergeant Hawkins took hold of them, trying to hold in his emotions. “I will, son. I promise.”

  “And feel free to lie to my mom and tell her how amazingly badass I was in action. I’ll ask God to forgive you.”

  The sergeant grinned, but his eyes held grief. “I won’t be lying. You are a badass soldier, and I’ve been honored to serve with you.”

  Jimenez gave a weak smile then his tired eyes shifted my way.

  “Abi,” he breathed.

  I was confused. Why would he want to talk to me? I pointed at my chest.

  “Yes, you.”

  I walked over and sat next to him. “You are a real badass,” he slurred. “Please do me one favor.”

  “Anything,” I said, hoping I could fulfill his last wish.

  “Kill those bastards. Don’t let them rule our world.”

  I grinned and held his hand. “I’ll do my worst.”

  Dr. Simon nodded to Keanu telling him to administer a second morphine injection.

  Jimenez’ eyes were getting heavy and glassing over. The morphine was kicking in, and his shakes were settling. I glanced down at his leg and saw his veins changing color.

  “Sarge,” his voice came out in a whisper, “don’t let me change.”

  “I won’t, son.”

  “I love you, guys. Don’t get bit. It freaking sucks,” he exhaled.

  Jones said a beautiful prayer, and everyone, aside from Danielle, had tears in their eyes. Sergeant Hawkins lay his hand on his forehead. “Sleep well, son. We’ll see you soon.”

  “Hooah,” Jimenez breathed before shutting his eyes for the last time.

  “Hooah,” the soldiers repeated sadly.

  Dr. Simon nodded at Keanu to carry out the final shot of morphine, but Stevens stopped him.

  “Shouldn’t we try cutting his leg off?” He wiped the tears from his face. “Loss of a limb is better than the loss of life. Is there anything we can do?”

  Dr. Simon shook his head. “As soon as the mutant saliva enters the bloodstream, it travels quickly. Even if you cut his leg off, I’m afraid it’s already too late.”

  “What happens now?” Jones asked.

  “If we don’t administer the last shot, he’ll change.”

  “There’s nothing we can do?” Jones asked. They were grasping at anything to save him.

  Dr. Simon shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He carefully lifted Jimenez’ eyelid. The outer rim of his brown irises were cloudy.

  Stevens cursed, his eyes refilling with tears. He bit his quivering lip, trying to fight back the pain, then turned and punched the wall. The drywall crumbled, leaving a large hole. “He was one of my best friends. We grew up together. Before we left, I promised his mom I’d watch his back.”

  “There’s nothing you could have done. It was a freak accident,” Jones replied. “We’d cleared the homes. That mutant was rogue and came from somewhere outside.”

  “He should have had his night vision goggles on.”

  “The sun was still setting when we first went in,” Sergeant Hawkins noted. “There were probably a ton of things we could have or should have done differently. It could have happened to any of us.”

  Keanu stood quietly with the last, fatal shot of morphine in his hand. Sergeant Hawkins nodded to him and turned to leave the room.

  “GET YOUR NIGHT GOGGLES ON.” Sergeant Hawkins said as he paused at the doorway. “We’re going out to search every house for supplies.”

  No one said a word as they followed orders. Each gave a nod to Keanu, and then laid a hand on Jimenez before they walked out of the room.

  Before I exited the room, I turned to watch Keanu administer the final shot; a single tear trickled down his cheek.

  Dr. Simon stood, escorting Chase and Danielle out.

  I wanted to leave and stood up to do so, but instead, walked over and laid a hand on Keanu’s shoulder in a show of my support. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it must have felt like for him, to basically end the life of a friend. He turned and nodded; a grief-stricken half-grin rose on his lips. My heart was breaking as we watched Jimenez, who was full of life just a few moments ago, take his last breath.

  Keanu pulled a blanket over Jimenez’s body, then slumped back against the wall. He glanced up at me one last time. “Thanks,” he whispered.

  “You’re welcome.” I gave a single nod, then exited the room.

  I knew Sarge gave the order for everyone to leave, to get their minds back on track, and off the heavy sadness lingering. Outside, under the vast sea of stars, I felt small and insignificant. We were specks of dust in the endless universe, yet everything we were experiencing was so huge.

  Jones handed me Jimenez’s goggles, and we met up with the rest of the team. We were all going in and searching each home together.

  There wasn’t much, but we did find a few cans of—guess what’s inside, as there were no labels.

  As we enter
ed the house I’d shot the two survivors in, each one of us checked a room. I went back to the room where both bodies were still laying on the ground. Nothing out of the ordinary, but as I walked further in, I noticed something weird. The blood from one of the men had pooled and congealed around his head, while the blood from the second had dried into a perfect line, not going any farther than one of the planks.

  I grabbed the man’s legs and dragged his body back.

  “Jones, come here.”

  “What’s up?” He appeared in the doorway, followed by Stevens and Sergeant Hawkins.

  “I think there might be a secret hatch.”

  Jones withdrew his knife and placed the tip between the two boards. As he pushed his knife down at an angle, a hidden door opened. A few feet down was a steel door with a latch. Jones pulled the latch back and it popped, sounding like it was vacuum sealed. With some effort, he and Stevens finally pulled it open.

  The smell rising from the dark shaft made my eyes water, and set off my gag reflex. Something was dead and most likely decomposing below. Thanks to Sergeant Hawkins, my mind vividly envisioned dead human bodies hanging from meat hooks, with chunks of flesh removed.

  “Light,” Jones called.

  He removed his night vision goggles as Sergeant Hawkins handed him a flashlight. I also removed my goggles as he shined the light down into the hole. There was a ladder, leading to a large room, but we couldn’t see beyond the three-foot hole.

  “Who’s going down?” Jones asked, backing away from the hole.

  I quickly followed, covering my nose and shaking my head. “Not me.”

  “You chicken?” Stevens chuckled.

  “Damn right,” I said. “Going down a dark, smelly hole, feet first, is not my thing. I prefer a well-lit, head-on approach.”

  “Stevens, you’re down first,” Sergeant Hawkins ordered.

  “What?” he squeaked. “Sarge, what if something bites my leg on the way down?”

  “I suggest you go quickly then.”

  Stevens turned to me. “Do you hear anything down there?”

  I closed my eyes and listened. “No. I don’t hear any Arvies, but I can’t guarantee there aren’t humans. However, it sounds pretty dead down there.” I giggled at my pun.

  Unamused, Stevens shook his head and let out a deep sigh. “I’d say they're both equally dangerous right now.”

  “Naw. If a human bites you, Keanu can patch you up good as new,” Jones offered, patting him on the back.

  Sergeant Hawkins reached into his pack and pulled out a flare. He struck it and threw it down the hole. He then lay down and aimed his gun into the opening. “Go, I’ll cover you.”

  Stevens threw his rifle over his shoulder and unholstered his handgun. He turned around and shimmied down the ladder quickly.

  “All clear.”

  Jones climbed down the ladder next, while the sergeant and I waited above.

  “Sarge, you gotta come down and see this,” Stevens hollered.

  He turned to me and waved his hand over the hole in a gentlemanly gesture. “Ladies first.”

  I paused, raising a brow, before making my way down. The smoke from the flare helped mask some of the stench, and when I reached the bottom, I realized we were in a storage/safe room.

  The walls and floor were made of concrete, and stacked up to the ceiling on either side were rows of shelving at least ten feet high. The room was twenty feet wide and fifty feet long. The shelves were stocked with food storage containers and bottles of water.

  “Looks like we hit the jackpot.” Jones walked the length of the room.

  Stevens popped open one of the containers. “This one is filled with fancy MRE’s.” He pulled a few out and read them. “Corn chowder, cheese and broccoli soup, stroganoff.”

  Jones opened another container. “More here. Pasta with marinara, enchilada with beans and rice.” He paused and stared at the MRE. “Shit. Jimenez would have loved these.” He turned one over. “And they have a shelf life of twenty-five years. These are still good.”

  At the opposite end of the room was a door. Stevens opened it and stepped inside.

  “Oh God,” he groaned, then began coughing.

  “What is it?” Sergeant Hawkins asked, heading toward him.

  Stevens stepped out, covering his nose. “I found the source of the smell.”

  We all headed toward the back door, each of us covering our noses before we peeked inside.

  The back room was a bedroom, and off to one side was a toilet and small sink. On the other side was a bed, and laying on it were three badly decomposed corpses huddled together. They looked like they were holding each other in their final moments. One of them was much smaller and was wearing a dress. It must have been their child.

  “It’s a family,” Stevens replied. “And they’ve been dead for a while.”

  “No shit, Sherlock,” Jones remarked with snark.

  “Hey, I’m just stating the obvious,” Stevens added. “To let everyone know…”

  “Check this out.” Jones walked over to the bed and shined his flashlight on the bodies. One of the larger corpses was clutching a handgun in his bony fingers. As he shined the light toward the skulls, we could see bullet holes in both of the larger ones. “Damn,” he exhaled. “They killed themselves.”

  “But there’s no bullet in the smaller one,” Stevens noted, shining his flashlight over the little body.

  “Maybe their child died, and they couldn’t cope with it anymore. It’s not our business to pass judgment. Some people are not as strong as others. We don’t know what struggles these people went through at their end,” the sergeant said. “Let’s get out and seal this room. This will be their tomb.”

  We exited the room and closed the door behind us, leaving the family to rest in each other’s arms forever.

  “What are we going to do with all of these?” Jones asked.

  “Take only what we can carry and leave the rest,” Sergeant Hawkins replied. “We’ll seal this place back up, and mark it on our map.”

  “I’m grabbing the good stuff,” Stevens replied, reading each label. “Holy crap! Old fashioned pancake mix.” He held a couple up in the air, waving them like it was a present he’d always wanted. “I’m grabbing a bunch of these.” He began stuffing his pack.

  “Toss me a few of those,” Jones said.

  Sergeant Hawkins shook his head and smiled. “What can I say? Food has a way of making man’s darkest days a little brighter. Go ahead, Abi. Fill up your pack. We don’t know how long we’ll have to survive on our own.”

  I did as he said, filling my pack, and adding as many water bottles as I could. By the time I was finished, my bag was weighted and my back sore. At least I’d have Chase and Dr. Simon to share the load, since they were for them as well.

  As we reached the top and sealed the hatched, I glanced at the two dead men in the room. “It doesn’t look like these survivors went down there. I don’t think they knew this place existed.”

  “They probably scavenged whatever was in the topside homes,” the Sergeant replied.

  “Hey, Sarge,” Stevens said. “I think we should stay here. We have everything we need to survive for a while: food, water, shelter. And we won’t have to cross the damn desert and risk fighting with more Arvies or exhaustion.”

  The sergeant exhaled loudly. “A chopper will be heading toward the city. If we miss them, we might not have a rescue.”

  “I don’t know. I think Stevens is right,” Jones added. “I believe we're better off here.”

  Sergeant Hawkins nodded. “Let’s talk with the others. If we all agree, we’ll stay here. We’ll need to set up a perimeter, and because we’ve lost a few of our men, we’ll have to be extra vigilant.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem, now that we have sustenance,” Stevens said.

  “Let’s remove these bodies, then clean and secure this place.”

  They dragged the bodies outside and laid them with the rest of the mutant
bodies. With a few blankets they’d found in the homes, they covered them up.

  “Tomorrow, we’ll bury them,” the sergeant said.

  “What about Jimenez?” Stevens asked.

  Sergeant Hawkins looked back at him. “He’ll be buried too. Separately.”

  Stevens nodded, satisfied with that answer.

  Chase and Danielle were sitting on the porch steps when we walked back outside. His arm was still around her, and her head was leaning on his chest. She looked coherent, and for the first time, I saw something other than madness in her wide, brown eyes.

  I didn’t have a clue what she’d endured. I couldn't guess what kind of life she'd had, but there had been a great tragedy since her mind had so fiercely hidden the innocent part of her away. This girl was a real survivor. A miracle, in fact. Yes, she was young, filthy, and mad, but she also might be the most important person on the planet.

  I wasn’t sure if Sergeant Hawkins knew the asset of those in his possession. Three readers, one of which had the power to annihilate hundreds, and a crazy girl with a possible cure.

  I was shocked the government hadn’t sent out every single available person to search for us. But Sergeant Hawkins’ mission was still early on. Once they figured out there was no contact, they’d come looking. And when that time came, I had to make sure I found a way to disappear.

  IT WAS UNANIMOUS. EVERYONE WANTED to stay and wait it out.

  Jones and Keanu set up a perimeter, while the rest of us tackled cleaning the house the best we could, before moving in. There was a table in the corner with four chairs, which Stevens pulled into the middle of the dining area.

  Dr. Simon, Keanu, Jones, and I sat at the table and ate our meals using a flashlight for ambiance. Chase opted to sit on the floor with Danielle, their backs pressed against the wall. Stevens and Sergeant Hawkins were outside, taking the first watch.

  “This is nice,” Dr. Simon said, taking a sip from his bottle of water.

  I smiled at him, noticing he looked a lot more relaxed. I hadn't been sure he'd recover from his earlier shooting spree, and was thankful to see him acting more himself.

  “It is,” I replied. “And we have everything we need to survive here for months.”