Hollis sighed heavily and rubbed at his eyes. “Look, kid, there are all kinds of bases in Montana. The problem is we lost contact with all of them shortly after the infection spread.” He turned more in his seat and the look in his eyes gave Buck little hope. “We have to assume they were overrun with the Zeds.”
Buck shook his head. “If I can survive at ground zero, surely trained military could have—”
“Give it up!” Hollis yelled. “If there was an easy way out, believe me, I’d go for it. I’d point us in that direction and we’d make a bee-line. But the truth of the matter is, we can only rely on ourselves.”
Hatcher scooted closer and lowered his voice. “Surely they’d send somebody to check on us when the chopper doesn’t check in or we miss our return time.”
Hollis shook his head slowly. “Resources are limited. I can’t believe they’d risk losing another chopper and crew just to check on us.”
“But the primordial virus is the key, right? Surely they’d make another attempt.”
Hollis shrugged. “We didn’t discuss that contingency.”
Hatcher sighed heavily and sat back in his seat. “Maybe we should stick close to the flight path. Just in case. We can maybe find a building that would make a suitable, defendable shelter, then set guards to watch for incoming flights. Shoot a flare or some-such to get their attention.”
Buck nodded. “Or once they get close we can reach them with your portable radio.”
Hollis considered the option for a moment. “We shouldn’t wait too long…if we do this.” He turned again and faced Hatcher. “I’m willing to give it a couple of days. Three at the most. But if things start to get hairy, we bug out.”
Hatcher fought to keep from grinning. “Agreed.”
Hollis tapped the driver. “Find us a place to pull over. We need to form a plan.”
The driver pulled to the side of the road and the following Humvees followed suit. He turned in his seat and looked to the two in the rear. “Tell me you know of a building that fits your description.”
Hatcher glanced out the window, his mind racing. “I know there are private residences that are right on the border of the park.” He nodded slowly. “A couple of them are high on a ridge.”
“Do they overlook the lake?” Hollis asked.
Hatcher shrugged. “I’ve never actually gone to any of them, but I know that depending on the time of year, I could see the lights from the center. That means they overlook the same flight path our chopper used to bring us in.”
Hollis inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. “Can you get us there?”
Buck smiled wide. “I can.” He shot Hatcher a knowing look. “I think I may have raided a couple of those places looking for food.”
“That was a hell of a walk, kid.” Hatcher gave him a suspicious look. “Why didn’t you stay at one of them?”
Buck’s face fell. “I thought that if and when help came, they’d come to where it all started.” He looked away and his voice dropped to almost a whisper. “After I hauled what I could carry back to the park…”
Hatcher touched his hand gently. “What?”
“I didn’t have the heart to go back.” He shrugged. “I just holed up in the wrecked travel trailer and did my best to survive.”
Hollis pulled his map and spread it out on the center hump between the rear seats. “We’re here. Where are the houses?”
Buck studied the map to try to get his bearings. He found the center and could see the stream on the topographical map. He traced the route he took with his finger and tapped the map. “Here. I’m almost certain.”
Hatcher glanced at the map and nodded. “That would be about where we saw the lights. Does this show the roads?”
Hollis shook his head. “Do you know them?”
Hatcher glanced out the window, then looked back toward the other trucks. “Go back about two miles. You’ll take the first left that we come across.”
Hollis turned to the driver. “Turn us around and radio the other transports. Fill them in on the plan. We got work to do.”
Stain pulled his bike to the side of the road and studied the burned out remains of a house. Judging by the neighborhood, he assumed it had once been a pretty nice place. “Probably had four bedrooms. Maybe a den.” He glanced at his idiot partner. “I bet the old lady was screwing the pool boy while her husband was at work.”
The imbecile chuckled and nodded. “Probably. Or maybe she was doing her tennis instructor, right, Stain?”
“Sure, shithead. Why not.” He killed the engine and stepped off the bike. “I wonder if this is the smoke that Squirrel seen?” He walked toward the charred remains, his eyes constantly scanning for infected people.
He relaxed slightly when he approached what was left of the front porch and didn’t hear any screams. He glanced over his shoulder and shithead was still straddling his bike. He kicked at what was left of the front door and wasn’t surprised when the entire thing fell inward.
He stepped onto the solid wood door and bent low. He picked up a piece of charred wood and crumbled it in his fingers. “This thing burned a long time ago.” He let the charcoal drop from his hand and stood. “This ain’t what Squirrel saw. It would still be smoldering.”
He turned and marched back toward the bike. As soon as he straddled it his radio barked. He pulled it from his jacket and keyed the mic. “Tell me you found something.”
“Baby Bird, we found a burnt-up gas station, but this thing has been here for a while.”
“You sure, Dirty Bird? How can you tell?”
The radio squawked again. “There’s a sapling growin’ in the middle of it. Pretty sure it would have burnt up with the rest of it if it was recent.”
Stain sighed then suddenly perked. “Are there any tire tracks near that gas station?
