Survival (18 page)

“On your knees!”

She dropped to the ground as instructed. The soldiers moved into formation around her. A few others trained their rifles on the vehicle, keeping a buffer between themselves and the pickup.

“My friend’s in the car!” she screamed. “He needs help!”

She glanced into the vehicle, realizing that Noah had fallen over in the seat. His eyes were closed, his mouth hung open. He looked dead.

“Hurry!”

The soldiers were wearing masks. They picked her up off the ground and frisked her, then locked her in handcuffs. Several crept over to inspect the vehicle. When they’d reached the passenger side window, one of the soldiers yelled to the others.

“We have a man down! He needs medical attention!”

Caddy felt tears slipping down her face. She cried as two of the men led her away.

“This is just a precaution, ma’am,” one of them stated.

She nodded that she understood, following them away from the vehicle and toward the encampment. As she walked across the dirt, she kept her eyes on the scene behind her, watching several paramedics in hazmat suits jog over from behind the fences. Two more followed, wheeling a stretcher.

“I want to go wherever he goes,” she managed through her tears.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but you need to come with us. We have procedures in place.”

She glanced at the soldier, hoping to convince him, but his face was stoic. In spite of what was happening, his presence filled her with a sense of relief. It represented some of the law and order that seemed to have disappeared over the last week.

She just hoped Noah lived to see it.

C
addy sat in a small, enclosed trailer with the doors and windows shut. Thick shades barred light from the outside. The only light provided was from a lamp on a nearby table, and she squinted against its glare. From somewhere outside, she heard the hum of a generator.

On one side of her was a man with brown hair and dark eyebrows. On the other was a man with shaggy gray hair and a moustache. Both of them scrutinized her for a minute before speaking.

“What’s your full name?”

“Caddy Stevens.”

“And where did you say you were from again?”

“Chester, Colorado.”

“Who is the young man you’re with?”

“His name is Noah Chambers. Is he OK? Is my friend OK?”

The two of them glanced at each other, their expressions impossible to read. The man with gray hair looked down and began typing on a tablet.

“He’s being treated,” he said.

Caddy stared at the man’s computer, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he was doing, but the screen was hidden from view.

The man with dark hair took over the conversation.

“Have you felt any unusual symptoms in the past twenty-four hours? Nausea? Headaches? Fever?”

“No. I already told the medical personnel all this. You already ran your tests, remember?”

She held up her arm, indicating the bandage from where her blood had been taken. The last hour had been a blur of tests, exams, and people in white suits, and she’d cooperated without protest. Her only thought had been of her friend.

“Any unexplained changes in mood? Depression? Anger?”

Caddy felt a surge of frustration. Her friend was severely injured—possibly dying—and here she was being forced to answer more questions.

“How do you expect me to feel? My friend has been shot. All I want to do is see him!”

“Once we’ve finished here, you can check on your friend. What have you eaten for the past day or so?”

“I don’t have the virus. Your tests should’ve concluded that. I must be immune like everyone else here. Now, if you’ll let me out of these cuffs, I’d like to check on my friend.”

The men exchanged a glance.

“Can you describe the last few days for us? How did you get here?”

Caddy shook her head. It was clear the men weren’t going to let her go—not until she’d proven her story. Without further prompting, she dove into the details of her survival. She told of her struggles in town, the way she’d boarded up her house, and her meeting with Noah. She told of the men who had tried to kill her, the death of her mother, and their subsequent escape.

Then she relayed what Noah had told her about the agents. She told the men of the safe food they’d discovered in the truck, how they suspected they were immune, and how they’d heard the broadcast.

The men watched her with interest, but neither seemed surprised. A few times they nodded; the older man typed. It was as if they were listening to the story they’d expected to hear and were waiting for confirmation of what they already knew.

When she’d finished, the men gave each other a look. After a few seconds the older man produced a set of keys. He set the tablet down and rose from his chair.

“We may have more questions for you later,” he said dryly.

“When can I see my friend?”

“Private Peters will show you to your temporary living quarters. She can take you to medical. After that, you’ll need to stay in the compound, and you won’t be able to leave until things are cleared.”

“How long will that take?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“Is there a cure for this thing? How far has the virus spread?”

“We’re not at liberty to discuss that. When we have more information, we’ll—”

“Forget it.” Caddy nodded to her cuffed wrists. “I just want to see Noah.”

After leaving the trailer, Caddy was introduced to a female soldier whose nametag read “Peters.” The woman, who sported cropped red hair and had a thin scar on her chin, led Caddy to her living quarters.

“Your friend is in surgery. You won’t be able to see him for a while.”

“How long is a while?”

“We don’t know yet.”

Caddy opened her mouth to argue, but the expression on the woman’s face told her that the answer was final.

The living area consisted of row after row of faded green tents. Survivors mingled among them, talking to each other or sitting on folded camp chairs set up in the aisles. Caddy could smell food. In spite of her worry, her mouth began to water.

“After you get cleaned up, you’ll probably want to get something to eat. There’s food and water located at the end of the aisle.”

Peters gestured into the distance, past the rows of tents.

“Thanks,” Caddy said.

As they continued walking, Caddy peered into a nearby tent, catching sight of a woman on a cot. Several small children were playing cards on the ground. Although the accommodations weren’t luxurious, they were a welcome sight to someone who had been forced to take to the road.

Caddy felt her demeanor begin to soften. Back in the trailer, she’d been angry at her situation, worried about Noah. Now she realized she was in a far better situation than she’d been before. At home, she’d been living in constant danger from both lunatics and the infected. Here she’d have food, water, and shelter, as well as protection from the chaos.

Peters led her through the row of tents, sidestepping several survivors who were engrossed in conversation. Caddy heard the words “National Guard” and “state of emergency” among the discussions. She tried to eavesdrop, but by the time she tuned in to a speaker, the person was already behind them.

“How many survivors are staying here?” she asked Peters.

“Eighty-four, last count I had. We have people coming in from all over. Word is spreading.”

“Aren’t there camps like this all over?”

Peters gave her a sideways glance. “There were, but they didn’t last long. As you can imagine, it’s been difficult to reach people in the contaminated zones. You should be safe now, though. We have plenty of reinforcements on the way.”

As if on cue, the whir of a helicopter sounded overhead. Caddy glanced up, watching the blades of what looked like a news helicopter cut across the sky. Several more military aircraft hung in the distance. Once the noise had dissipated, she resumed conversation.

“Has the virus been contained? Have you found the agents?”

The soldier looked away. Caddy could tell she’d heard her, but the woman wasn’t answering. After a few more steps, Peters pulled her into an empty green tent.

“This will be your living quarters for now. Under the cot, you’ll find a change of clothes and a blanket. As I mentioned, you’ll find food and water in the last tent at the end of the row.”

The woman started to leave. Before she could leave, Caddy grabbed her arm.

“Wait.”

“What is it?”

“You must have more information. My friend has family in Portland. When he gets out of surgery, he’ll need to know they’re safe. How far has this thing spread?”

Peters sighed.

“Everyone north of Utah is fine, as far as we know. We’re working on restoring communications everywhere else, so we should have more information soon. I can’t tell you much more than that.”

“What about the agents? What about the people responsible?”

The soldier stepped out of the tent, glanced in both directions, and then ducked back inside.

“Look, Caddy, I can tell you know a little more about what’s going on than most, so I’ll let you in on what I know. But you better not utter a word. They’d have my damn uniform for this.”

“I will. I promise.”

“We’ve already located most of the agents. Right now we’re working on capturing the remainder and securing the contamination zones. Hang tight. It’s only a matter of time until we have this thing contained,” Peters said. She bit her lip and motioned around the tent. “Now try to get comfortable. I’ll let you know when your friend is out of surgery.”

Before Caddy could ask her anything further, the woman had disappeared.

Caddy surveyed the small tent. Although there were two cots, it looked like she was the only occupant. There were two packages under each cot, presumably containing clothes. Other than that, the place was barren.

She patted her pockets. Her jeans were empty. She didn’t even have her license. The only things she’d brought were the weapons and food in the truck, and those things had already been confiscated.

She sat on the cot for a few seconds and put her head in her hands. No matter how she tried to distract herself, her thoughts kept returning to Noah. With her mother gone and her whole town dead, he was the only thing she had left. The wait was unbearable. Peters had promised to relay news of his condition, but she wondered how long that would take. Considering the line of cars she’d seen outside, the military had more pressing concerns.

With nothing else to do, she decided to walk to the food tent.

Although she couldn’t fathom eating, her stomach was snarling. It’d probably do her good to have a meal. In addition, she might be able to get information from the other survivors.

Maybe she could even find Noah’s whereabouts.

Caddy parted the folds of her tent and stepped out. She was immediately assaulted by conversation. Inside the tent, the noise had been in the background, but now it was louder than ever—a steady hum of chatter that wafted over the campground. Everywhere she looked, she saw survivors. Some held plates of food; others were holding beverages. She looked for Peters, but the woman was gone.

Caddy began walking along the center aisle, navigating her way around the other people. A few of them glanced in her direction, perhaps recognizing that she hadn’t been there before. She felt them sizing her up as she passed by.

Her original plan had been to get some information, but now she was getting anxious. Caddy was alone and unarmed. Even though she was in a military campsite, there was no telling what kind of people she would run into. If someone decided to attack her, to
kill
her, it could be minutes before help arrived.

By then she’d be dead.

She continued down the aisle, doing her best to blend in and not draw attention to herself. About halfway to the food tent, she noticed a heavyset man sitting in a chair. His face seemed round and friendly. There were a few groups chatting it up around him, but he appeared to be alone.

She paused for a second, debating whether to speak with him. Before she could make a decision, he met her eyes.

“You just get here?” he asked.