Caldera VINew World Order
Heath Stallcup
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
About the Author
Also By Heath Stallcup
Caldera The Series
Also From DevilDog Press
By JJ Beal
Customers Also Purchased
Caldera VI – New World Order
©2018 Heath Stallcup
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead, or otherwise, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
Printed in the U.S.A.
Created with Vellum
To my twin girls.
You both love zombie stories and this is a different twist on the genre for you.
It may not be what you’re used to, but if the ‘zombie apocalypse’ ever really does come, it most likely will be some kind of rage virus versus the slow, shambling, walking dead.
Rule #1: Cardio…
Chapter 1
Hatcher spun on his heel and stared out the door. “What the hell is all that racket?”
“Sweet Jeezus! We’re under attack!” The voice came from the hatchway in the ceiling where the rooftop sentries entered and exited the main body of the warehouse.
Hatcher ran for the staging area as others made a dash for the armory. He caught Roger’s attention. “I need a rifle!”
“On it!” Roger bolted for the armory as Hatcher slipped along the edge of the building. He cleared the steel wall and peered through the chain link fencing. He spotted a brown truck cutting doughnuts in the rear parking area as a wave of infected swarmed through the far fence.
“ZULUS!” Hatcher screamed. “Seal the building!” He grabbed the nearest man and spun him around, pointing at the overhead doors. “Seal the entries! Get all shooters topside!”
He bolted and ran for the armory. Roger left the packed room carrying two AR rifles and a small duffle of magazines. “Got ‘em!” He thrust the closest rifle to Hatcher. “Should we stage along the doors?”
“Negative.” Hatcher pointed to the roof access. “We keep the doors shut and sealed to protect the civilians. Everybody who’s capable of shooting needs to be on that roof!”
Candy emerged carrying a bag of Molotov cocktails. “I got the fire!” Hatcher jumped into the air and caught the descending hook and rope. He gave a hard pull and hooked it to her bag.
“Get up there and prepare to repel boarders. NOBODY gets inside that ain’t us!” He grabbed the other end of the pulley system and tugged the bag into the air while Candy ascended the ladder.
Roger took to the ladder and was right behind her. “How’s this for a fun Saturday night?”
Without slowing Candy shot back, “This is no time for jokes.”
Roger readjusted the rifle hanging off his shoulder and increased his climbing speed. “Who’s joking?”
As soon as Candy came off the ladder topside, she fell to her knees and reached for the rope. Roger grabbed the bag and hefted it to her. “Easy!” she yelled. “You don’t want this on you, I promise.”
“What’s in it? Booze?”
She shook her head as she unhooked the rope and dropped it back through the hatch. “It’s a mix of gasoline, rubbing alcohol and kerosene.” She tugged the bag up and onto the rooftop. “With a bit of bleach mixed in for effect.”
“Jeezus.” Roger emerged through the hole and scooped up the bag. The pair ran to the edge of the building and peered over the parapet. The truck was still spinning circles in the driveway, knocking infected out of its path as the ass end swung around. They could hear some idiot screaming from the truck.
“What is he yelling?” Candy asked.
Roger’s face fell and he gave her a disgusted look. “It’s Simon. He’s just whooping it up.”
Candy groaned and reached for the first bottle as Roger rammed a magazine home and charged the weapon. “Going hot!”
Roger took aim on the truck and began to fire at the cab. The infected, who seemed more concerned with the meal on wheels, suddenly lost interest at the sound of gunfire. Groups broke away from the smoking vehicle and began trotting toward the warehouse.
“Oh shit…” Roger groaned.
“What’s wrong?” Candy asked as she flicked at a lighter, trying to ignite the first cocktail.
“I think I distracted them away from Simon and towards us.” He glanced over his shoulder at the other men on the rooftop. “Don’t just stand there! Light ‘em up!”
Candy smiled as the flame licked to life on the cotton rag dangling from the top of the bottle. “Fire in the hole!”
The first cocktail landed in front of a small group that had taken the lead. The liquid napalm and resulting fireball engulfed the small group. Their screams changed from basic communication to alarm and pain. She actually winced at the sounds.
“I hate doing this.” She lit the second bottle and held it up, allowing the rag to fully flame.
“I’m sure they’d have no qualms about taking you apart for supper, my love.” Roger popped off more rounds, dropping a few that were charging around the barbecue.
“Their screams…chills my bones.”
“Doesn’t chill them.” Roger continued to fire, picking off the leaders of the pack. “In fact, I think their screams get the others worked up.” Spent, he quickly changed magazines. “Check it. They’re worked into a frenzy.”
Zulus stormed the chain link that protected the outdoor portion of the staging area. Bodies stacked up along the base of the barrier as the infected tried to gain purchase. Fingers and toes jammed into the metal fabric, their gaunt bodies struggling to climb the fence as more of their brethren fell under the hail of bullets.
Roger barely caught the truck spinning around once more, the front pointing
