Hatcher stared at the flames threatening to overtake their home then back towards the truck. “Fine. You direct the people inside the courtyard on damage control. I’ll take the truck and—”
“Hell no!” Mike interrupted. “Like it or not, you’re the leader. People need you here.” He stepped up and thrust his jaw out. “I’ll take the truck.”
“You’re still healing from being gutted.” Hatcher deadpanned. “If I’m gonna send somebody out there in a truck, it will damned sure be somebody—”
“You need able bodied people here to contain the fires.” Mike shook his head. “Find me a driver. I can shoot while they press the go pedal.”
Wally placed a hand on Hatcher’s shoulder. “I got this.” Before he could argue, Hank stepped beside Mike. “I mean, WE got this.”
“I can’t send you guys out there.”
Wally smiled at him. “We ain’t asking.” He slapped Mike’s shoulder. “I’m driving. You shoot.”
Hatcher opened his mouth again to argue but both men darted past the adobe wall and jumped into the truck. He watched as the engine roared to life and the truck slammed into the double chainlink gates, throwing them open.
“Remind me to ground you boys when you get back.” He sighed heavily and glanced up at to the heavens. IF you get back.
Mike gripped his middle as the truck bounced off of the chainlink gates. “Take it easy.”
“We’re being pelted with arrows and you want me to slow down?” Wally shot back through gritted teeth. He cut hard to the left when an arrow pierced the windshield and sank into the vinyl seat between the two men. “I don’t want to be out here any longer than we have to!” He slammed his foot down on the gas pedal and veered the truck toward the closest stand of trees.
“That clump there!” Mike pointed. “I’m positive that’s where I saw him.”
“In for a penny…” Wally shouted over the revving engine.
He flipped on the headlights and watched as pale bodies dove to the sides to avoid being hit. He swerved the truck again as a volley of arrows glanced off the side.
The truck jerked to the other side as something flattened a tire, pulling the truck in the opposite direction. “Son of a bitch!” Wally yelled as he fought the steering wheel. He glanced at Mike. “Don’t just sit there looking pretty. SHOOT something!”
Mike leaned against the door and propped the rifle on the side mirror. He angled the stock to sweep side to side and began spraying in the general direction of the trees.
“Christ! Can you try to avoid some of the bumps?”
“Keep bitching! That way I know you’re still alive!” Wally clenched his jaw as the nose of the truck dove into a shallow depression, spraying dirt, grass and debris across the hood as it bounced back up.
The other front tire blew and the truck jerked to the other side as more arrows pelted the metal body. “They’re persistent little bastards, I’ll give ‘em that!”
“Heads up!” Mike yelled as a spear slammed through the windshield and nicked Wally’s ear before shattering the rear window.
Wally slapped at the side of his head to make sure the major parts were still intact then twisted the steering wheel hard, pointing the front of the truck straight for the trees. “Fuck these assholes!”
Mike whooped as he let loose another round of hot lead. “For Valhalla!”
Broussard wiped the sweat from his brow as he stared at Dr. McAlester. The man was handcuffed, bound and tied to a metal chair. Dried and crusting blood covered his mouth and stained the front of his shirt. Dark smears of black grease shone under the bright lights of the holding cell.
“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was infected.”
Broussard turned and gave the medical officer a questioning look. “I’m sorry?”
“Your colleague appears infected.” He turned and crossed his arms, giving the researcher a critical stare. “But he doesn’t show any light sensitivity and there’s no blood pooling the sclera. His eyes appear alert and he seems in otherwise normal health.”
“Except for the part where he’s trying to chew off his own nose.” Broussard sighed as he watched Kevin snap and snarl, bloody saliva hanging from his jaws as he struggled with his bonds.
“Considering we have no infected onboard this vessel, is it safe to assume that the virus is now airborne?” The medical officer rose a brow at him. “Or is this what your ‘cure’ does to the uninfected?”
The accusatory tone wasn’t missed.
Broussard lowered his eyes, his head shaking. “I honestly have no idea what’s happening here.” He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, his eyes raising to observe Dr. McAlester once more. “I suppose it’s possible that the virus has mutated again.”
“Then one might conclude that others aboard the ship would suffer the same fate.” He cleared his throat for effect. “Yet, here we are with just this one researcher who seems affected.”
“So far,” Broussard added, sending a chill up both men’s spines.
The medical officer lowered his head and appeared to be studying his shoes intently. “I think I need to run this turn of events up the chain of command.”
Broussard nodded slowly. “Yes. I believe you are correct.” He turned and gave the man a grave look. “That would be the prudent thing to do.”
He turned to leave when the medical officer stepped in front of him. “Are we looking at a second mass extinction event here?”
Broussard sighed and gave the man a defeated look. “I do not know.” He glanced at Kevin once more then looked away. “If so, it is one is of our own making.”
Roger cracked his eyes open and immediately regretted it. The pain that shot from his fingertips to his skull seemed to increase with each beat of his heart. He sucked in air to scream and felt something squeeze his other hand. His
