The corporal looked at him as if he were stupid and shook his head. “Just before we left the hilltop. General order to bug out came down. And here we are sitting out here babysitting you and your project with our thumbs up our asses.”
Andrews’ eyes widened as he looked at the noncom, his blood suddenly boiling. “First off, corporal, this little project, was Colonel Vickers orders, not one of my little pet projects. So we were both stuck out here. Second, why wasn’t I informed of this ‘general order’?” he barked, his face turning red.
The corporal smiled and shook his head. “Maybe because people like you aren’t issued these.” He pulled an ear piece from his ear. “Radios are kind of nice to have when you’re in the field. Sir,” he added with enough venom to royally piss off Captain Andrews.
Andrews felt his anger rising for just a moment, then he felt a peace come over him as his own plan formulated. If Vickers wants to bug out and take away his living test subjects, then Andrews would find his own. Even if he had to use unwitting volunteers. He was sure that someone as weak minded as this young booger muncher would be more than willing to be inoculated against the viral threat that waited out there in the woods. Andrews smiled inwardly as he planned his revenge against any noncom that would be insubordinate to him.
He simply nodded as he sat back against the hard-wooden bench. He glanced out the back of the truck and smiled when he saw the wrecked pickup in the distance. He knew the camp was just around the bend. He could grab his notes, his vials, his laptop, and a few more items of vital importance and get them packed before they had to leave.
Andrews sighed and began making mental notes of the inventory he’d need to start over, ticking off in his head the bare necessities he’d need to preserve his perfect virus for years to come.
Chapter 11
Bob walked up to the front of the ranger station, his eyes watching his own reflection in the windows as he approached. It hurt him to hold the rifle with both hands, but he did his best to at least give the impression he was capable of using it. As he approached the front of the station, he could hear yelling inside. A confrontation of some kind as two men’s voices rose up in anger.
He paused at the edge of the parking area and hovered with one foot on the concrete steps leading up to the building. He could feel his heartrate increase as he considered storming the building, gun blazing. His only desire being to take out as many soldiers as he could before they could gun him down…all to avenge Keri.
He stood there contemplating his next move when the roar of a large diesel engine snapped him from his contemplation. Bob turned and saw the large transport truck round the bend at the end of the road and enter the camp. The truck pulled around the tents and stopped in front of the large white tent, its occupants not noticing him standing at the front steps.
Bob was in the open with nowhere to go, and the passenger door to the truck opened, with a very large man stepping out and hopping to the ground. Without thinking, Bob turned and began walking toward the truck. He couldn’t hold the rifle to his shoulder, so he held it at his hip and leveled it at the man standing in the open door of the truck. The man had his back to him and was reaching back inside the vehicle for something. Most probably his weapon, so don’t waste time.
Bob opened fire.
The first rounds caught the front fender of the massive truck and Bob instantly adjusted. The next few rounds caught the door and shredded through it, splintered metal fragmenting and slicing through the large man’s midsection. Bob continued to fire, severing his spinal column and shattering his kneecap from behind.
The driver of the truck, having heard the gunfire, hit the ground and pulled his own weapon. He went around the front of the truck and began scanning for a sniper. Bob went around the back where the three soldiers and a man in an Army uniform and a white coat sat. Three of the soldiers began firing before Bob could clear the back of the truck, but he ducked back around the side, hugging the side of the truck. The soldiers began pouring out the back of the truck and around the other side, the last one trying his best to lay down covering fire.
Bob knew these were probably his last moments to live. He found it odd that he was okay with that. His daughter was dead, his wife was infected and missing. He had no idea where Buck was…he could only pray that somehow, some way, the boy had made it to a safe place. But as he stood here now, with his back against the side of the transport truck, Bob had made his peace with his maker. The world had gone to shit, and he was about to flush the commode.
He spun around the corner and pointed the rifle into the back of the truck again. The man in the uniform lay sprawled across the back of the truck, a bleeding wound across his forehead. Bob smiled at the realization the man must not have been much liked if his own men knocked him silly and abandoned him there. He still couldn’t raise the rifle to aim, but he could lay it across the top of the tailgate and empty the magazine into the prone body.
As Bob pulled the empty magazine and shoved in the full one from his pocket, soldiers began pouring out
