Dead Stop (29 page)

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Authors: D. Nathan Hilliard

BOOK: Dead Stop
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“Is this wise?”
She folded her arms and fixed a level look at him.

“It’s actually
my specialty, doc. I know what I’m doing. Besides, I’ve got Marisa watching my
back.”

“Fine,” Rachel
sighed, “if you’re going to be out there then put some extra effort in looking
for a way out of this place. There’s something I didn’t say earlier because I
didn’t want Deke and Stacey to hear it, but I think you two need to know this.

“Oookaayyyy…”
Harley and Marisa stopped and looked at each other, then back at her.

“Gerald may have
been right about something else, too,” the veterinarian continued. “This stuff
may infect living people as well.”


Mierde
!”
Marisa hissed, “Are you serious!?”

“Yeah,” Rachel
looked from one to the other, “It would be slower, because we have something
dead people don’t…an immune system. And it would probably depend on the
seriousness of the initial exposure, such as being wounded by one of these
things. But there is a good chance we’ve all been exposed to one degree or
another.”

“But you’re
saying,” Harley frowned in concentration, “that those of us who were actually
clawed by those things have the greatest risk.”

“Yes. And bites
are likely even worse. While I’ve tried to clean all the wounds, those are the
injuries where people are actually getting infected tissue come into contact
with internal tissue of their own. And the deeper the injury, the greater the
risk of infection since I can only clean so deep.”

The two chewed
that one over a second before Marisa put her free hand to her forehead.

“Oh no…Benny.”

“And Deke,”
Rachel whispered. “Those two have the worst exposure. There is no way I got
everything out of their wounds. But Harley, you and Stacey aren’t out of the
woods by a long shot. You guys are a close second on the danger list. And if these
things have been releasing any kind of spores, then we may all be infected. The
truth is, we would have been better off if Gerald’s virus theory had been the
case. This could end up being a lot worse.”

“So we’re
screwed.” Marisa dropped her hand and met Rachel’s eyes with a level glare.
“Nothing we do really matters because we’re all going to turn into these things
anyway. Or at least some of us are.

“Maybe. I still
think it’s going to depend on the severity of the exposure. We need to keep a
close eye on Benny.”

 “Keep an
eye on Benny? Why? Nobody is doing anything to Benny!”

“Easy,” Rachel
soothed, recognizing the flash of protective anger in the waitress’s eyes.
“It’s nothing like that. I’m a doctor, remember? I don’t hurt people. Besides,
there is another reason I’m bringing this up.”

“What’s that,
Doc?” Harley cut off whatever Marisa was about to say.

“I may have a
solution to this problem…if we can just get to it.”

“What do you
mean, ‘get to it?’”

“Well, the one
bit of hope in all this,” Rachel continued, “is now that I know what I’m
dealing with I can start approaching it as something to be treated. I have an
anti-fungal medication out in my truck that may go a long way towards
protecting us, if we can get it before being infected too long.”

“You mean you
can cure this stuff?” Marisa brightened visibly. “Holy hell, Doc! That changes
everything!”

“No, I didn’t
say that,” Rachel cautioned. “I said I could fight it. The medicine in my truck
would need to be administered early in the infection. Fungal infections can be
real bastards to beat once their deeply entrenched, and this stuff appears
aggressive. I’ve got other medicine at my office which would work a lot better,
but you let this crap go on too long and I don’t know if even it would work.
Once it has taken over the nervous system, I doubt anything could save a person
then.”

“So our
priorities have changed,” Harley nodded, “Got it.”

“We need to get
to my truck or somewhere else I can get some medicine. Either way, we have to
get out of here.”

“What am I
looking for, if I make it to your truck, doc?”

“Harley…” Marisa
warned but the tall man held up his hand.

“It’s in a red
tackle box with a white lid,” Rachel answered. “You’ll find it in the large
toolbox in the back of my truck. Just lift the lid and it should be right on
top to the right. The toolbox is locked, though. If you come up with a way to
go for it, be sure and get the key from me first.”

“Right. Anything
else?”

“Not really,”
the veterinarian sighed, “other than to emphasize that time is not our friend
here. Having Deke and Stacey get supplies keeps them busy, and gives them
something constructive to keep their spirits up, but holing up and trying to
wait these things out is probably not a realistic option.”

“Understood.”
Harley changed direction and headed back towards the kitchen. “I had been
thinking we would spend today hiding out back here and try something tomorrow
night, but if we are running out of time then I’ll go straight to Plan B.”

Rachel watched
the tall man go back into the kitchen and head for the restaurant door.

“Plan B?” She
caught Marisa’s arm as the girl started to follow after him.

“Beats me, Doc,”
the girl grouched, “I didn’t even know what Plan A was. He never tells me
anything. We’re gonna have to work on that.”

 

###

 

Stormbreak -
Marisa

 

“Harley!”

 Marisa
pushed through the door into the restaurant and used a convenient flare of
lightning to locate the man standing at the other end of the room.

He peered with
folded arms out the last side window towards the diesel pumps. She noticed he
had already pulled a toothpick from his hat brim and now chewed it as he stared
out into the storm.

“So,” She
marched over to him and faced him with hands on hips. “Plan B?”

“Yeah,” he
exhaled around the toothpick, his mind obviously elsewhere.

Marisa stared at
him for a moment, and when he didn’t speak again reached out and tapped him
firmly on the shoulder.

“Harley,” she
growled, “I don’t want to complain or anything, but being your wingman seems to
involve an awful lot of standing around wondering what the hell you’re up to.
You want to help me out with that?”

“Huh?” He seemed
to come back to himself and turned to her.

“I said,” She
folded her arms and glared at him, “Doc was sort of wondering about Plan B. But
I thought instead of just telling her it was something crazy that would most
likely get you killed, I would come in and get all the juicy details first.
That way it looks like you at least trust your wingman enough to tell her
what’s up before you run off and get eaten. You do trust me, right?”

“Trust you?” He
looked confused at the direction the conversation had taken. “Of course I trust
you.”

“Oh good!” she
snapped. “Because me being a silly girl and all, I got this crazy idea you
might be holding out on me there for a second. But then I realized you surely
wouldn’t do that because I told you before, I’ve got your back…even if I don’t
like what you’re about to do. Right?”

Marisa could
feel her temper begin to rise and reined it back in.  She wasn’t really
looking for a fight, but this needed to be settled.

“Right,” he
agreed, still looking nonplussed.

“Good, because
what I am NOT, is a sidekick.
Comprende
?  That’s Deke. What I am is
the person who needs to know what you’re thinking so I can do my part
right.
Who knows, I might even come up with an angle or two that will give whatever
plan you’re cooking up a better chance of working.”

“Marisa, I…”

“No.” She
surprised him by putting a finger to his lips. “Hear me out, okay?”

He stopped, then
nodded in the dark.

“Like I told
Doc, she may know science but I know people. I can tell you’ve been trying to
protect us, and I don’t mean by just fighting these things when you got the
chance. You’ve been cool as ice through this whole thing. You had already
figured out what was going on in town earlier tonight, and you didn’t say
anything until you didn’t have a choice. You knew how freaked out we all
already were, and you wanted to spare us that while you could. You had probably
already figured out where these…things…were coming from as well…”

His lack of
reply was all the answer she needed on that one.

“Yeah,” she set
her jaw and nodded. “I thought so. And the worst part is, you’re still doing
it.”

The ever present
grin on his face grew decidedly pained, and she knew she had scored again.

“So here’s the
deal, Harley.” She stepped up and looked at him with solemn eyes.  “We’re
just going to start over and try again, okay? Only instead of me being your
‘wingman,’ we’ll be partners in this thing. I’ve still got your back, but no
more secrets, and no hiding things from your partner. I know we barely know
each other, but I really need to trust you.
Comprende?
And I know the
only way that is going to happen is if you trust me too…so let’s start over.
I’ll go first…”

“First?” 
Harley’s smile took on a confused look.

Instead of
answering right away, Marisa took a step back, squared her shoulders, then
fixed the taller man with a serious look.


Hola.

she said with grave formality. “My name is Marisa Odalys Jacinta Valdez, and I
am your new partner. I work here at the Textro while saving up for school. I
know I’m a girl, but I am not a china doll. The thing with Vicki caught me by
surprise, and it hurt me, but I’ll be okay.  My toe is sore, but I used to
be an athlete and I’ve played hurt before…so I’m okay there too. I am tougher
than I look, but I’m not an idiot and I won’t do anything stupid just to prove
myself. I like chocolates, drive-in movies, and men who respect me enough to
tell me the truth. My turn-offs are politics, professional wrestling, and dead
people who are trying to eat me. Okay, now you go…” She folded her arms and
looked at him expectantly.

The man stared
at her, his face a mask of surprise.

“Your turn,” she
prompted. “Go ahead.”

Harley looked at
her a couple of seconds more, then recovered.

“Okay, you win,”
he sighed, then met her with the same serious look she had assumed earlier.

 “Hi. I’m
Sergeant Harley Wayne Daughtry. I was a scout in the US Army and assigned to a
sniper squad in Afghanistan, where I served two tours of duty. My primary
assignments were penetrating into hostile territory, gathering and assessing
intelligence, and the hunting and neutralization of Taliban fighters. I got out
a few months back, and now I’m just kind of easing back into life here in the
states. My main, overriding objective tonight is to get everybody out of here
alive, and somewhere safe.”

He paused a
second, then continued in a slightly lighter tone. “I like chicken fried
steaks, fishing, and people who don’t give up. I haven’t really made a list of
turn-offs yet. Should I?”

“It helps.”

“Okay, I’ll try
and work on that.” He tilted back his hat, and looked at her with unconcealed
curiosity. “So now what?”

“Now we see if
you mean it.” Marisa slid into the booth beside them and indicated the bench
across the table from her. “So tell me, how bad do you think it really is out
there.”

Harley appeared
to think about it a second, then eased himself into the seat.

“Well, if
Houston or San Antonio had sent any kind of help, we should have seen something
by now. The fact they haven’t can mean several different things. Either they
don’t know enough about what’s going on here to respond, or this is going on in
several places and they can’t respond to all of them at once, or they have the
same problem we have. Without more information, I can’t tell more than that.
Masonfield, is a different matter though.”

“What about
Masonfield, Harley?”

His face
tightened, as if he regretted mentioning it, and the look he gave her was both
somber and grim. She realized immediately what he was thinking.

“Yes, I have
family in Masonfield,” she answered his unspoken question. “But I need you to
tell me anyway. That’s the deal. That’s the way this works. Besides, we already
know they have trouble over there.”

Harley nodded
and folded his arms on the table. Taking the toothpick out of his mouth, he
examined it for a second before tossing it into the ashtray. Then he turned his
head and looked out into the storm as he continued.

“By this time,”
he spoke softly, “all the people who were killed at the football game have
gotten up and joined the zombies from the cemetery. Actually, enough time has
now passed that their initial victims may have gotten up as well. There would
be hundreds of them, maybe over a thousand. And these new ones tend to wander
around more, so all those who got up probably spread out through town as well.
By now I estimate the only survivors are probably a few people who went to bed
early and have slept through this entire thing. They’ll die as soon as they get
up and go outside tomorrow.”

“You’re sure
about that?” Marisa closed her eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. She had
half expected something like this, but hearing it confirmed with such finality
still felt like a punch to the heart.

“Yeah…I’m sure,”
His voice sounded flat.  “It’s already over. That’s not guesswork, but
simple mathematics. Losing their police and having all those people die at the
same time created the perfect storm of events. Even if some people holed up,
they would have been overwhelmed. I’m sorry, Marisa, but Masonfield is dead.”

The two sat
unspeaking, the rain thrumming against the windows

I’m not going
to cry,
Marisa swallowed and clenched her jaw
. I am NOT going to cry. If
I do, I might not be able to stop…and Stacey and Benny need me. There will be a
time for crying later.

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