ARES Virus: Arctic Storm (9 page)

“Okay, let’s go,” Brown states.

Without waiting for a reply, Brown heads away from the ruined fence and down the side yard toward the front. The sound of Hayward’s and Clarke’s footfalls is all he needs to confirm that they’re following. Checking that the street is clear, they cross quickly, angling so they can get away from the helicopter’s flight path.

They cross the next few streets without incident, only having to hold up a single time due to infected crossing a few streets away. Remembering their sudden encounter with the group of them, Brown’s anxiousness increases exponentially each time he steps into the open, along with the unease of the sun rising higher. He wishes he could get back the time it took for them to get Hayward off the roof.

But, wishes are like politicians. A thorough waste of time thinking about
, he muses, running into the shelter of the next block of houses.

Sprinklers ticking in the background and the occasional knock of a door swinging against a wall are the only sounds. Brown again wishes he had the time to search through some of the homes for weapons. Given the propensity of firearm owners, he doubts that he would have to search for long to find what he wants, along with enough ammo to see them through an attack. But…wishes.

His thoughts stray as to what they’ll do once they clear the city. Report in or stay clear until everything blows over? He’s not sure what the reaction will be to them having been in the city. A lengthy quarantine at the very least. Disappearing at the worst. Neither one sounds entirely comforting. But, that’s for later. Right now, getting out of the populated area has to come first. If they can’t manage that, then everything else is a moot point.

Clearing a waist-high chain-link fence, the three of them pause at the corner of a house, checking if the avenue is clear. As with every street they’ve had to cross, there are signs of past mayhem, panic, and the horror of what has happened. The agent spread outward to the outlying populated areas—as a tidal wave speeding outward from an undersea earthquake. The fact that they have come across so many active infected leads Brown to believe that they’re approaching the outer wave of infection, if they aren’t already in it.

As if to confirm that thought, Brown notes a large grouping of infected milling in the middle of the street and in yards a block and half away.

Well, this place is a no-go. We’re going to have to go further away in order to cross unseen
, Brown thinks, momentarily pondering why the infected have gathered in that one location.

“Sarge…Sarge,” Brown hears Clarke sharply whisper directly behind him.

“What?” he returns over his shoulder, not once taking his eyes from the gathering.

“I saw a face peering out of one of the upper windows…in that light blue house where most of the infected are congregated,” Clarke states.

“So? You probably just saw one of the infected peering out,” Brown replies.

“No. I don’t think so. I only had a glimpse, but it looked like a little girl.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. We’ve seen infected kids in the groups before.”

“This one looked, well, not infected. She looked frightened. We haven’t seen any frightened infected,” Clarke says.

Good point
, Brown thinks, looking at the indicated window.

“I don’t see anything. And, with all of the infected in the area, I think it would be damn near impossible for anyone in there to be uninfected.”

The fact that an infected one could be in the upper stories looking out doesn’t bode well, and gives Brown some cause for concern. That would give them a broader view, and the three of them could be more easily spotted.

“I know what I saw, Sarge. It’s not one of the infected. I’m positive about that. There’s a little girl up there,” Clarke sharply whispers.

“Positive enough to risk our lives?” Brown retorts.

“There,” Clarke states, ignoring the question and pointing toward the house in question.

Barely noticeable, but spotted nonetheless, the curtains of the upper window move slightly. The closed window rules out a direct breeze causing the movement. But, that doesn’t mean that there isn’t a draft from some other source. His heart rate elevates and his first thought is to turn and run. Instead, he slowly edges back until the window is barely in view. If any of the infected sees them and gives a scream of discovery, they’ll be forced to hide once again—more time wasted. That is, if they manage to find a place this time.

A face appears, quickly scanning the infected below, and then vanishes back into the darkness. Like Clarke mentioned, it was only there for a moment, but that quick glance told Brown that the cadet was right. The young girl at the window appeared scared, and she didn’t behave like an infected.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Brown mutters.

“See, I told you. She doesn’t seem infected, right?” Clarke whispers.

“No, she doesn’t. But getting to her is another story. We aren’t going to exactly waltz by those infected, stunning them with our graceful moves.”

“So, what are we going to do? It does seem near impossible to get to her.”

“That it does,” Brown responds.

“But, we can’t just leave her there. We have to try something. If we don’t, the guilt of abandoning her…well, it’d be worse than anything the infected could do to me,” Clarke comments.

“I doubt that. But okay, cadet, what would you do?” Brown asks.

“I don’t know. We have two things that seem mutually opposed to each other. On one hand, we need to keep moving to get out of town—to save ourselves. On the other, we have a duty to help someone in need,” Clarke answers.

“And if that help is impossible? We would end up sacrificing ourselves without helping anyone,” Brown states. “That’s a lose-lose.”

“I agree that it would be stupid to needlessly throw our lives away. But, isn’t helping and saving others part of why we joined up? Where there’s a will, there’s a way. There’s always a way. We just have to be smart, take our time, and think of it,” Clarke says.

“And we circle back around to the matter of time. If we take too much of it, we’ll end up on the losing end—all of us will. If we move on, then there’s a chance that we make it.”

Brown maintains his squat and ponders the situation. He mostly said what he did as a devil’s advocate. While there’s little doubt in his mind which decision is the right one, the timing could have been better. If they had turned left instead of right when they left the shed, this wouldn’t be a thing. They would have continued on without knowing there was a trapped girl.

But life is like that. One turn and you’re faced with a situation, and you can’t go back. There are no re-dos
.

It seems that with each decision they’ve made so far, as if each there were ever really choices, they’ve run into situations that have delayed them. It’s as if they’ve been put in a puzzle maze where they are forced to solve one dilemma after another.

“You know we don’t really have a choice here. That means that we’ll have to think both smartly and quickly,” Clarke states.

“We may make an officer of you yet. Better yet, when we get out of this mess, you should quit ROTC and become a real soldier. You have the makings of a good sergeant,” Brown comments.

“Not a fan of officers, eh?”

“They have their uses. After all, someone needs to generate and fill out paperwork, sign shit and all of that. It helps the timber industry,” Brown answers. “Honestly though, as in every profession and at every level, there are good ones and there are bad ones.”

“Back to the original statement, we have to try something,” Clarke says.

Hayward crouches nearby, merely watching the exchange while keeping an eye on the area around them. He agrees with Clarke, but there’s no need to add to the conversation as she’s saying everything he thinks and feels. Plus, he still feels guilty about his actions that led to his separation, and doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. After what he did, he’s certain that Sergeant Brown only looks at him as a heavy backpack he has to carry. His self-confidence is destroyed and he’s afraid to make a decision.

With a heavy sigh, with time weighing heavily on his shoulders, Brown answers, “Yes, I suppose we do.”

“So, what are we going to do?” Clarke asks.

“Right now, you are going to quit asking questions, be quiet, and let me think,” Brown replies.

“Um…” Hayward begins to say.

His fear of saying something is overridden by a thought that passes through his supposed pea brain. However, the glare he gets from Brown brings his comment to a sudden halt.

Is this kid deaf, or just oblivious to what I said?

But, Brown is reminded that everyone has good input and it’s a poor leader who isn’t open to other’s ideas. That’s the foundation of teamwork.

However, not everything can be a fucking week-long discussion; it’s on a case-by-case basis.

“Fuck. I can see that you’re itching to say something. You might as well voice instead of crouching there, trembling with anticipation,” Brown says.

“Well, I was thinking. Given the kind of neighborhood we’re in, I bet a lot of the cars have alarms. Those parked in driveways might still have juice in their batteries and have their alarm systems active. Maybe we could use that to distract the infected long enough to get in and out. Plus, it might help us with the time thing, as take some time having to detour,” Hayward states. “This way, we clear out the infected in the way and have a chance to rescue the girl.”

Brown pauses, stunned by the words flowing out of Hayward’s mouth. He didn’t think the kid had it in him. Although he was thinking along the lines of creating a distraction, he hadn’t thought of using car alarms. His idea had been going into the houses to find an alarm clock, one of those manual kitchen timers, or something like it.

“You know, we may make an officer of you as well,” Brown comments.

Hayward feels a boost to his lost self-confidence. The sergeant may not have been thinking what he feared all along—he may not be the backpack he believed he was.

Brown thinks that it would be quicker to find an operating car alarm than to search through kitchen drawers. There is no doubt that they need to do something in the way of creating a distraction to help the trapped girl. It’s just a matter of what will be the most expedient method while avoiding joining the ranks of the infected.

With a nod of his head, he directs Hayward and Clarke away from the corner of the house and into the backyard. He knows they need to create the distraction far enough away from the house in order to safely enter it. Being close to the leading edge of the wave of infected spreading outward, any direction they pick will be dangerous, as they could easily run into other roving groups. Gathering the two cadets near the back fence, he briefs that they’ll head back in the direction they came from. There, they’ll quickly search the street for an operational car alarm.

“We’ll head two blocks back and search both sides of the street in tandem. If we’re caught, pick a house, lead the infected inside, and bolt out the back door. Just like we did before. Well, like most of us did,” Brown says, giving Hayward a wry grin. “If we become separated, we meet at the girl’s house. If that is impossible, well, make for the city limits. We’ve skirted enough houses that you know how to do it. Any questions?”

“If we find a car, do we just set it off then and there?” Hayward asks.

“No. Just let me know that you’ve found one. We’ll set if off together and make for the house,” Brown answers. “Oh, and most vehicles equipped with an active car alarm will have a blinking light, either on or under the driver’s dash, or near the door locks.”

The snarls of the infected fade as the three cautiously retrace their route away from the trapped girl. The frustration Brown feels at constantly running into delays makes him want to speed things up; he has to force himself to be slow and careful. At the first street, they make their way back through the mayhem of a civilization that has come apart. Several vehicles are parked in driveways and Brown is tempted to forgo the original plan of going to the second avenue, but he pushes onward.

Cutting corners will end this adventure right quick
, he thinks, jogging across the street.

Bypassing the girl again crosses his mind. The infected in the area have congregated at the house, which would make it easier to skirt around them, but he knows that’s just a fancy thought. After all, if they manage to escape this nightmare, he’ll have to look himself in the mirror each and every morning. His life hasn’t been perfect, and there were times he could have made different choices—done things more right—but he’s tried to do what’s best regardless of the consequences.

That doesn’t mean I have to like them, though
.

Drawing up to the second street, Brown gathers the group in a huddle. “Okay, you two take the near side. I’ll head across to the far side. We go left first and stay in tandem. Remember, if you hear or see any infected, vanish. Stay together and head into the nearest house, and if they go in, run out the back door and don’t stop. Do not! I repeat,
do not
allow yourselves to get trapped like that girl. Any questions?” he asks, looking directly at Hayward.