Caldera 10Brave New World
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
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
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Caldera X Brave New World
©2019 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.
ISBN—
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…
1
Buck stared at Simon wide-eyed. “Tell me…how did you survive? You were bit by a Zulu.”
Simon chuckled, still holding his hand up. “Yeah, the Rager bit me. And yeah, I turned.” He did his best shrug with his wounded arm in a sling. “I went through the whole deal. The pounding headaches, the anger, the…” he glanced away then turned back to the young man, “the cannibalism.”
Buck’s face twisted. “You’re a fucking monster.”
Simon nodded slowly. “I was. I can’t deny that.” He looked up at Buck and shook his head. “But something happened. I’m not that man anymore.”
“Bullshit,” Buck growled. “You were just shooting at us. Now I’m supposed to believe that you’ve changed?”
Simon’s face hardened. “I didn’t hit any of you, did I?” He nodded toward the rifle. “That’s an AR10. It has a Leupold scope. It’s a flat shooter out to about two hundred yards.” He raised a brow at the young man. “You really think I couldn’t have plugged both of you fuckers before you even knew what hit you?” He shook his head and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I just wanted to scare you away.”
“To protect what’s yours, right?” Buck held his pistol tighter and stepped towards Simon. “You deserve this.”
The shot that fired startled Buck, and he nearly pulled his own trigger.
“That’s right,” the voice behind him stated firmly. Buck froze as soon as he heard the woman’s words over his ears ringing. “Drop the gun or so help me god, the next one goes in your head and blows your damned brains out.”
Simon held his hand out, holding her back. “Lana…” She met his eyes and he shook his head. “He’s just a kid.”
“A kid holding a gun on you, Simon.” She gripped the weapon tighter and stepped closer. “I’m not telling you again.”
Buck held his hand out to the side and let his pistol swivel on his trigger finger. He bent slowly and dropped it to the floor. “Done.”
“Step away,” she said. “I don’t want to get blood on the carpet.”
Simon stepped forward, his eyes locked on her. “I said, don’t.” He reached for her gun and she stepped back.
“No! Simon, he was going to kill you.”
Simon glanced at the kid. Even with a gun trained on him, he held his head high and his shoulders back. His jaw was clenched and he looked angry. But his hands didn’t shake.
“Something tells me this kid has already seen too much.” Simon slowly reached out and put his hand on her pistol. He pressed down, gently lowering it. “There’s been enough death.”
She turned and stared at him, her jaw quivering. “We won’t get away.”
He smiled at her. “Sure we will.” He wrapped his hand around her gun then swung for Buck’s head. He felt the butt of the pistol connect and the boy folded, crumpling to the carpet.
She stared hard at his still form. “Is he…?”
Simon bent low and pressed his fingers to the kid’s neck. “He’s alive.” He looked up at her. “You ready?”
“The car’s loaded.”
“Let’s get the hell out of Dodge.”
Hatcher patted his pockets, searching for a spare magazine. “Always be prepared, I say,” he mocked as he came up empty. He huffed, sat back, and glared at the pistol in anger. “Maybe if he gets close enough I can throw it at him?”
A muffled shot startled Hatcher. He knew that it had to have come from inside the house. He swallowed hard and slowly rose to his full height. He peered over the wall, expecting to see Buck in the window, waving at him.
“Come on you little shit,” Hatcher mumbled. “Show yourself….” He felt his mouth go dry as the house remained silent; his stomach dropped and his hands began to shake as he stepped towards the corner of the wall. “Come on, Buck.”
He stared at the pockmarked house with the shattered windows and willed Buck to appear. To be okay. To show up with a huge shit-eating grin on his face.
Hatcher stumbled as he rounded the corner, uncaring that he was open to the sniper. He heard an engine turn over and fire to life, and his head turned toward the open garage.
Tires chirped before a sleek red rocket burst across the driveway and through the front gate. The car swerved hard to the left, tires screeching on the dry pavement as the driver shifted gears, shooting out of the housing complex and onto the main road.
Hatcher barely caught the silhouette of two heads in the rear window of the car, and neither looked like it could be Buck.
He lowered his pistol and sprinted across the street, hopping the ruined wrought iron gate and running into the garage. He hit the door leading to the house at
