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Carlie Simmons (Book 2): In Too Deep
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In Too Deep
A Carlie Simmons Post-Apocalyptic Thriller
By
JT Sawyer
Copyright
Copyright 2015 by JT Sawyer
No part of this book may be transmitted in any form whether electronic, recording, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction and the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, incidents, or events is entirely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Edited by Emily Nemchick
I hope you enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing it. You can get updates on future releases and my free, non-fiction survival eBooks by signing up at the JTSawyer website.
Prologue
The Caribbean, Island of Nuevo Gerona, 1963
“Move faster, durocs,” said Sergei, the tall Russian commander who towered over Anotoly from the rim of the massive hole where he and three other Soviet soldiers were digging a huge pit.
Duroc yourself, thought Anotoly, who despised how the burly commander kept referring to them as idiots. For the extra hazard pay he was being offered for working in this bare strip of jungle, he could submerge his disgust. It was twice as much as he earned doing regular infantry work. One more day of toiling under Field Marshal Sergei Mitrinov and then Anotoly was going to be granted a day off. Not that there was anywhere to go. They were deep in the jungle with only a small cluster of canvas tents and a mess hall as their sole inholding in this green hell. All Anotoly was told was that they were building a new research lab to provide countermeasures against the Americans. Unknown to him and the other men was the scope of what their nation’s military was undertaking. The Soviet Union had its new clandestine bioweapons facility near Kiev that had produced enough lethal virus pathogens to wipe out the world twice over. However, they were behind their enemies in the West in productivity and it was Mitrinov’s duty to see that their output rate changed drastically. The United States had enough to annihilate the human race ten times over. With the new cache of pathogens they would be burying on this remote island, the Soviets would have one more strategic inholding against the Americans whose shores, at the Florida Keys, were only two hundred miles to the north.
A heavy bead of sweat was rolling off Anotoly’s forehead as he thrust his rusty shovel into the fragrant earth which held the usual smell of damp loam coupled with decaying vegetation. For the past four hours, they had only taken one break and the effort of digging the eight-foot-deep hole was wearing on his back. A polished silver medallion swung loosely around his neck, glinting in the faint light with each plunge of his shovel. He and the other men had been given the medallions prior to arriving as a token of their acceptance into the new unit that Sergei had created. The other soldiers around him were only delivering half-motions with their shovels while they sighed with fatigue. The sound of metal implements clanking against the earth and the snorts of his co-workers had been the only sounds for some time…until now.
As the jungle treeline behind the hole was illuminated by headlights, Anotoly heard the ground tremble as a two-ton flatbed truck drove along the muddy road that sliced through the thick swath of trees as it headed out to their location.
Anotoly rested his shovel against the eight-foot-high earthen walls and stepped up on a wooden crate to peer over the edge. He saw the massive truck meandering along the muddy jungle road, its chassis swaying from the crushing weight of a large object on its frame. Two soldiers dressed in the usual brown fatigues were waving their flashlights, directing the truck towards the nearly completed pit. As the moon crept out from the cloud cover, Anotoly could see a large cylindrical steel container strapped on the back of the flatbed. On its topside was a row of valves and gauges.
The lone driver of the truck grimaced with each bump in the road and his face was pale. As the other workers clamored up on the wooden stepstool next to Anotoly, Sergei turned and kicked dirt in their faces.
“Finish working, durocs,” he said while resting his right hand nervously on a pistol hanging off his leather belt.
Anotoly stepped down into the pit while retrieving his shovel. Sergei seemed more agitated today compared to the past eight weeks, thought Anotoly. Normally, the man was gruff and dispassionate, barking orders at everyone like they were dogs. Anotoly found it odd that Sergei had asked him at breakfast if he was married and had any children after not speaking to him at all during the previous weeks. And now Sergei’s normal stoic expression was replaced with a look of something else.
As Anotoly slammed his shovel half-heartedly into the inky earth, he heard several men above shout, followed by the shrieking noise of metal violently wrenching against metal and then a rumble through the ground. He and the other men raced to the makeshift steps and scurried out of the pit to see the capsized truck which had separated from its cargo.
Sergei stood still with a look of horror on his face as he stared at the lopsided truck whose rear axle had broken under the weight. In the moonlight and flailing flashlights, Anotoly and the other workers rushed to the scene twenty feet distant. A sick, honey-like odor was permeating the air. Silver-gray fumes were hissing forth from the breached metal cylinder which had impacted a small boulder upon capsizing.
Sergei was yelling at the other men but Anotoly could only make out a few words above the din of shouting. A thin soldier came running out of a green canvas tent holding an armload of gas masks. Sergei nearly plowed the man over as he raced to get a gas mask over his face.
As Anotoly approached the truck, he saw three soldiers on their knees gasping for air, their faces turning yellow while their cheek muscles began spasming. To his right, hundreds of fruit bats began tumbling from the treeline, their lifeless bodies resembling black hail falling from the sky.
The sickly-sweet odor descended on the encampment like an ocean fog. Anotoly looked around and saw his fellow workers collapsing, their faces contorted. The other soldiers spread like oil on a hot surface and disappeared into the jungle, a few of them dropping dead before making the treeline. Anotoly veered away from the damaged truck, his lungs filling with the thick vapor, making him nauseous. He felt his legs quiver and his face began violently twitching, his cheek muscles sagging like they were made of bread dough.
As he rushed up to the lanky soldier with the gas masks, Sergei stepped between them. “It is too late for you.”
Anotoly collapsed and his eyes rolled back in his head as his lungs began constricting. As he lay dying, he saw Sergei yell to three soldiers behind him clad in their masks. “Dig a large grave over by the treeline and dump the bodies there,” he said. “Then use the crane to deposit the tanker in the other pit. We must wipe this place clean of our presence.”
As Anotoly took his last breath, his chest collapsing, he saw Sergei squat down beside him as the man casually brushed his gloved fingertips against the silver medallion around Anotoly’s neck. “The Motherland thanks you for your service.”
Chapter 1
White Sands Missile Range, New Mexico, Four Hours after Departing Tucson
“Why is the sand here so white?” said Carlie to the helicopter pilot as they flew towards a great wave of glistening dunes in south-central New Mexico.
“It’s gypsum, actually—in fact this is one of the largest gypsum dune fields in the world. It’s around 275 square miles of barren ivory monotony,” said the pilot. “The whole region is contained in this basin and bordered by mountains on every side. Funny thing is there are African oryx, impalas and other exotic animals that were introduced back in the 60s so you think you’re on another planet.”
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“With all that’s happened in the past few days, I already feel like I’m occupying another world,” Carlie said. She scanned the undulating features below that resembled snow. Carlie could see long strings of animal tracks crisscrossing the arid substrate with a few sporadic clumps of yucca as the only other form of life that was evident.
Matias, Eliza, and Jared were still asleep to her right while Shane was peering out the door window to the eastern horizon as the sun was cresting a series of jagged desert peaks. To Carlie’s left were Amy, Professor Beauchard, and the two university students, Nadine and David, who were sunk into their seats. Then there was Phillip Alderman whose irritating conduct in Tucson she was trying to purge from her memory.
“Any word on the other cities around the country?” said Carlie.
“Most of them have gone dark with the exception of small pockets of survivors here and there. The smaller towns have fared better, especially the ones that were isolated to begin with like those in Wyoming, Montana, and parts of western Colorado.”
Carlie’s gazed drifted to the dunes below as images of her brother’s home in San Diego pierced through her psyche. He and his family must have gotten out in time. Maybe they were at their cabin in the Sierras when this hit. I need to find him. What is the point of all my training if I can’t even save my loved ones? She looked at the mountain range to the west and wanted to steer the helicopter towards them and keep going to the coast. Carlie forced her mind back to the present as the helo crested a series of serpentine ridges.
“Any intel on the outbreak and what caused it?” Shane said.
“All I know is that Ground Zero for the virus was New Orleans. The word is that General Adams is assembling a team to investigate that site.”
Shane leaned on Carlie’s shoulder. “What a crap shoot that’s gonna be. Sure as hell don’t envy the unit heading up that mission.”
Jared leaned forward. “The only thing to worry about in New Orleans now are all the cat-sized roaches that have probably taken over the city. That city was a dump growing up in. I can’t imagine how bad it is now.”
“How many personnel are at the missile range?” said Carlie.
“A few hundred, I think—I’m not entirely sure. Things fell apart fast with refugees from the surrounding towns flooding in just before my crew and I departed to come get you. Once we arrive there I…” The pilot paused, tapping his helmet, indicating a message was coming in.
When he was done listening, he and the co-pilot looked at each other with pale expressions then he turned over his right shoulder towards Carlie. “Tell your people to saddle up—this is going to be a hot landing. There’s a flood of those creatures pouring in from the east. Looks like the nearest town, Alamogordo, has fallen and they’re all headed this way. We should be able to land and get this chopper underground in time but be prepared for a dicey touchdown. Let’s hope that this upcoming meet-and-greet will be a lot smoother than your hasty departure from the U of A campus in Tucson.” The pilot glanced back at Carlie. “Though, we don’t have much choice on where we can retreat to these days. White Sands is about the only safe haven now in the region for you and your people, not to mention the president. And trust me when I say that while the president’s daughter was our main priority in heading your way originally—it’s been a pleasure having you on board.”
“Appreciate your candor, Chief, and your timeliness in getting us out of that hellhole. I’ll relay what you said to the rest of my people,” said Carlie as she nudged Matias and the others, informing them of the situation.
She grabbed the M4 that was beside her, dropped out the magazine for inspection and then reinserted it.
“Don’t we get a round of coffee first before the head-splitting begins?” said Jared, who was peering out the window.
“Hell, I’d even take some of those nasty MRE egg packets right now, I’m so hungry,” said Matias.
“Or a magnum burrito with extra hot sauce,” Shane said.
“Seriously, all you boys can talk about is food,” said Carlie. “Well, once we land, I’ll be sure to buy you both some ham-and-egg omelets and foo-foo coffee at the local diner.”
Jared leaned forward, tilting his head at the front window ahead. “Lord Almighty, I think it’s gonna be us who are on the morning menu,” he said with his mouth agape.
Everyone in the helo turned to the front in one motion to behold a torrent of barbaric creatures clamoring over themselves along the two-lane highway ahead as they rushed towards the concrete retaining wall of the missile base. They were trying to climb the massive thirty-foot-high embankments like a river of fire ants but kept falling back on themselves or becoming ensnared in the thick rows of stacked razor-wire lining the exterior. The wrought-iron entrance gates were stained red from the thrusting motion of desiccated arms being jammed between the metal bars.
As the helo landed on the rectangular platform that led to the underground hangar, the doors on either side swung open. Carlie hopped out and motioned Eliza to stay near her. Situated on the tarmac sixty yards away was Air Force One.
Two twelve-man teams of soldiers were streaming in from both sides and formed a perimeter around the helicopter. Carlie could see the hordes of undead at the end of the base trying to breach the fifteen-foot high entrance gate. She felt the thumping of heavy mortar fire from behind her as the creatures on the road beyond the gate were pounded by shells and .50 caliber machine guns. As she instinctively felt for her rifle on her shoulder, Carlie heard several soldiers yelling outside to her right. She turned and saw four men delivering a shattering volley of gunfire towards the gate. A fast-moving creature with smooth yellow skin was sprinting along the other side of the entrance trying to search for a way over. Carlie noted its agility as it leaped atop wrecked vehicles and flailed its ropy arms in fury. Its sharp, angular moves reminded her of a Peregrine falcon slicing through the air before descending on its prey. She knew it was something different than the shambling flesh-eaters that she’d dealt with in Tucson. The men continued shooting, only managing to riddle the other zombies massing along the entrance road. A second later, the creature sprung upon the gate end post and jumped into the main yard of the compound then hit the ground running.
Carlie and the others in her group immediately unslung their weapons and started to gather in a tight formation. The soldiers stopped shooting and the barrage of mortar shells ceased as a Blackhawk swept up from the right of the undead. The helicopter unleashed an earsplitting stream of rounds from its mini-gun, instantly shattering the swift-moving creature and leaving a pile of splintered body parts around the entrance.
Carlie took a deep breath while staring at the plume of fine desert sand rising skyward near the shredded corpse. I thought we were going to be safe in this place. What the hell was that thing? She turned around to look at the others and could see the same worried expression on their faces.
She peered beyond her immediate group and noticed a lone figure in desert camouflage fatigues trotting up to the platform. He stopped before their helo with his M4 slung off his chest. The man bore an Army Ranger tab on his shoulder and he had a long comma-shaped scar below his right ear. “My name is Staff Sergeant Michael Boyd,” he said with a New Jersey accent. He moved forward, extending his hand to greet Shane, Matias, and the other men while brushing past Carlie. Then he gave a nod to Eliza. Carlie squinted her eyes in surprise at the man’s brash demeanor and was about to speak up when Boyd started talking.
“Right now, we need to get you all below.” He motioned to the soldier standing near the controls of the landing area who depressed a red button, causing the entire platform to begin descending.
“Does everyone get a greeting like this?” Shane said, nodding his head in the direction of the undead mob.
“No, this just started in the last six hours as the two nearby towns succumbed to the creatures. Now they are all headed this way as we’re the only fresh meat left in this region. Not sure what that creature was that
breached the wall. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
“Is your entire facility underground?” said Phillip, who was nervously fidgeting with his fingers.
Boyd nodded. “It’s one hundred fifty feet down with the main compound being around thirty million square feet in size. Then there are separate wings with medical, weapons, and food and water storage along with a science department,” he said as the elevator platform settled on the cement ground and the overhead doors began sealing off the top. Boyd stepped away from the helicopter and motioned the group to follow him off the platform. “We’ve got the basics here for sustaining life but after a while it feels like you’re living in a mall from the 1970s as the architecture is pretty dated.”
As Carlie walked alongside Eliza with the soldiers forming a line behind them, she momentarily craned her head back to watch the bay doors seal out the sunlight and the sound of weapons fire above. “Are these platforms the only way in and out of here?”
“I’m not at liberty to say but I can tell you that this is one of the safest military installations in the world. Given the focus here has always been on testing missile capabilities, you can imagine this place is secured tighter than a camel’s rear in a sandstorm.”
Boyd led them along a corridor lined with close to a quarter-mile of shelves that went up seventy feet high. Each was lined with nondescript wooden crates that had serial numbers stamped on the side. A forklift operator was moving supplies off a green eighteen-wheeler that was parked near an up-sloping tunnel entrance to the right. The aisles were bustling with an assortment of workers dressed in fatigues, jeans, or ranching accouterments. Everyone bore the same tired, frightened expression in their eyes that Carlie had come to accept as a familiar sight in recent days.
Boyd spoke into the radio mic on his left shoulder and then came to a halt and turned to face the group. “After President Huntington arrives, you’ll be taken to medical for a quick exam and then I’ll show you to some makeshift quarters where you can get cleaned up. Following that, I’ve been instructed to debrief each of you before you meet with General Adams and get your new assignments.”