(Flipside 02) The Savageside [A] Page 17

  Except the roller didn’t start up. The motor whined then smoke billowed out from under the short hood.

  “No,” Ivy said and jumped out of the roller, her eyes staring in disbelief at the small flames that quickly followed the smoke. “What the fuck?”

  She was about to order everyone into the follow roller, but turned and saw the same issue with the second vehicle. Except no flames. Plenty of smoke, though.

  “No!” Ivy shouted.

  Her attention quickly went to the weird dinos that were happily still tearing the fallen wingers apart. From what she could see, none of the dinos died in the attack even after falling from the heights the wingers had taken them to.

  “Field kits,” Ivy ordered.

  No one asked twice. They scrambled to get as many supplies as possible loaded into packs, and the packs secured to their backs, before they all stood in front of Ivy, everyone trying to ignore the sound of feasting only a few meters off.

  “We hike,” Ivy said. “Nochez? Can you handle this?”

  “I do not have a choice, do I?” Nochez replied.

  “Not if you want to live,” Ivy said.

  “Then I will handle this,” Nochez said.

  “That way,” Ivy said and pointed to the horizon to their east. “We walk until we’re home.”

  “Home is a few million years in the future,” Blumhouse said.

  “Then we should get going,” Ivy replied.

  They all gave the weird dinos one last look then started off, moving in a single line with Blumhouse taking point, followed by Ivy, Nochez, DeLuca, Cosio, and Morgan taking up the rear.

  ***

  “They haven’t moved for days,” Tressa said as she sat down at the conference table, her seat directly across from Bloom’s. “What are they waiting for?”

  “I don’t know,” Bloom said, his left hand absently rubbing at his forehead.

  “They are acting as if this is a siege,” Thompson said from Tressa’s right. “But in order to conduct a proper siege, one must have a superior amount of supplies to the ones inside that are under siege. There is no way in hell that the Russians have more food and water than we do.”

  “I agree,” Bloom said. “Mr. DiCenzo?”

  “What?” Mike asked as he sat across from Thompson. Even though he was seated at the table, his body was turned to watch the activity in the command hut. “If you want to know if they have any tech working, the answer is still no. Every once in a while they start up the motors of their vehicles, probably to keep the fuel and oil circulating, but that’s it. No comms, no nothing.”

  “Great,” Bloom said and leaned back in his chair. “There aren’t even reports of weapons being visible other than the occasional rifle and sidearm. What is their angle?”

  “That smell,” Mike said. “They’re trying to stink us out. Those dudes all need some showers and soon.”

  “Yes, Mr. DiCenzo, the smell coming from them is awful,” Bloom said. “Especially when the wind turns.”

  “Should we speak with them again?” Tressa asked. “As far as we know, they could be stalling and we’re giving them all the time they need to get ready for an attack.”

  “There would be evidence of preparations,” Bloom replied. “We are not seeing that. All they are doing is waiting out there like buzzards.”

  “So, they’re waiting for us to die?” Thompson asked. “From what? I already said we have more than enough food and water to outlast them.”

  Bloom shook his head then sneezed. He wiped at his nose with the back of his hand then fetched a handkerchief from his front pocket. He paused as he stared at the back of his hand.

  Blood.

  “Commander?” Tressa asked. “Are you alright?”

  “Bloody nose,” Bloom said. “I must be dehydrated. I should drink more water.”

  “We have plenty,” Thompson scoffed.

  The commander sneezed again and again, barely getting his handkerchief up in time to block the spray. Then he coughed. Hard.

  It was everyone at the table’s turns to become wide-eyed. They could all see the spray of blood as it soaked through the handkerchief.

  “Mike, go get Dr. Raskov,” Tressa said.

  Mike didn’t hesitate. He stood up and ran from the command hut.

  “Belay that order, Mr. DiCenzo,” Bloom shouted. “I already said it’s only a bloody nose.”

  “Bloom, you coughed that blood into your little snot rag there,” Thompson said. “That came from your lungs, not your nose.”

  “No, no, I must have had some blood drip into my throat,” Bloom said just before a coughing fit doubled him over.

  “Oh, shit,” Tressa said. The amount of blood coming from between Bloom’s lips was alarming. “Commander!”

  She bolted up from her chair and rushed around to catch Bloom just as he fell sideways. He coughed again and blood splashed across her face, but Tressa was too busy keeping the man from slamming into the floor to notice right away. Bloom coughed once more and splashed her again.

  That time she did notice because of the sheer volume of blood. Splashed, not sprayed. Thick rivulets of blood dripped from her brow, her nose, her cheeks, her chin.

  “Everyone out!” Tressa yelled.

  The personnel in the command hut did not have to be told twice. They sprinted from the hut, leaving the door open wide so Tressa could glance out into the rest of the base. An ATV was sliding to a stop outside and Dr. Raskov jumped out the best he could, his once-powerful cybernetic replacement legs moving in stutters and stops as he reached the front steps.

  “What are we looking…at…?” Dr. Raskov paused at the threshold and didn’t move a single step further inside. “Tressa? What happened?”

  Tressa explained. Dr. Raskov listened.

  While they talked, Thompson stood off to the side, ignored and forgotten by everyone. Until he spoke.

  “The Russians,” Thompson said. “They did this.”

  “How?” Tressa asked.

  “I’ll be right back,” Dr. Raskov said. “Do not leave this hut.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it,” Tressa said. “Father? How could the Russians have done this? Bloom told us he didn’t drink the vodka. And what kind of poison takes days and days to take effect?”

  “I didn’t say it was poison,” Thompson replied.

  “Then what?” Tressa asked. “Oh, God! He’s stopped breathing!”

  “Do not give him CPR!” Thompson shouted and rushed forward then stopped himself before he got too close.

  “But he is dying!” Tressa protested.

  “He’s infected, Tressa!” Thompson yelled. “Petrov somehow infected him during their meeting.”

  Thompson backed up to the closest chair and sat down hard.

  “And now you are infected,” Thompson said. “That blood…”

  “How is he?” Dr. Raskov asked from the doorway. He had a roll of plastic in one hand and a roll of duct tape in the other. “Tressa?”

  “Dead,” Tressa said and gently eased Bloom’s body away from hers. “He stopped breathing. There was nothing I could do.”

  “Doc, that to keep us quarantined?” Thompson asked, nodding at the materials Dr. Raskov held.

  “Yes,” Dr. Raskov replied without hesitation. “I’m sorry, but we can’t risk whatever this is getting outside.”

  “It already is, Doc,” Thompson said. “Bloom was infected when he met with Petrov. So was anyone else with him.”

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Dr. Raskov said.

  A couple of aides arrived and he handed them the plastic and the tape.

  “Seal off this door,” he ordered then looked in at Thompson. “We’ll create a clean chamber as soon as we can so we can pass food and water to you while you pass blood samples to me.”

  “Doc, you ain’t listening,” Thompson said, his voice calm and even, but deadly serious. “Bloom is Patient Zero. You need to start tracking everyone he’s come in contact with since the meeting with the
Russians.”

  “Tyrel, there is nothing to say this is contagious, let alone that Bloom was infected on purpose,” Dr. Raskov said. “It could be all sorts of things. Parasites. An allergic reaction.”

  “Then why seal us off?” Thompson asked.

  “Because I’d be an idiot not to,” Dr. Raskov said.

  “And you’d be an idiot not to check on everyone Bloom has been in contact with since the fucking meeting with the Russians!” Thompson shouted.

  “Dad, don’t yell at him,” Tressa said.

  “Both of you, please listen,” Thompson said. “I don’t know what Bloom was infected with, but I do know that Petrov is to blame.”

  “How can you know that?” Dr. Raskov asked, stepping aside so the aides could finish sealing the doorway with plastic. His voice became muffled. “What do you know that we don’t?”

  “The method he used to infect us,” Thompson said. “It’s a method I’ve used before to further Topside Industries financial interests.”

  “What?” Tressa exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

  “Did you think we got all of those mining contracts because the natives saw Jesus and signed over their mineral rights so they could be right with God?” Thompson laughed. “No. We would infect them during a preliminary meeting with a virus we knew their systems were not used to. Then we’d offer the cure if, and only if, they signed over all rights to TI. It is a tactic that has a long history of being tried and true.”

  “Dad, we were both with Commander Bloom during that meeting,” Tressa said. “If what you are saying is correct, then we were infected then too. So why aren’t you sick?”

  “I don’t know,” Thompson said. “That is a question for Petrov.”

  There was shouting from outside.

  “What?” Dr. Raskov’s muffled voice responded. “How many? Dear God… Thompsons? I’ll be back.”

  He shouted something to his aides then he was gone, the ATV speeding quickly away from the command hut.

  Tressa stared at the plastic covered doorway. A shape appeared after a few minutes.

  “Uh, should I be worried?” Mike asked, his voice muffled as well from the plastic.

  “Probably,” Thompson said. “You were sitting in here with him when he started sneezing and coughing.”

  “Then I should come inside and hang with you guys,” Mike said, reaching for the edge of the plastic.

  “No!” Tressa and Thompson shouted in unison.

  “No,” Tressa said more calmly. “Stay out there. Maybe it wasn’t transmitted to you.”

  “But if it was, then I could infect everyone,” Mike said and gasped. “I need to quarantine myself.”

  “Now, that is a much more intelligent choice than barging in here,” Thompson said. “Quarantine yourself, but tell someone what you are doing. Wouldn’t want you to die in your hut and no one knows to look for you.”

  “Fuck, dude,” Mike said. “That’s grim as shit.”

  Tressa coughed. Thompson froze.

  “Just a tickle,” Tressa said and covered her mouth with her hand as she coughed again. She turned the hand around and showed the palm to her father. “See. No blood.”

  “There is plenty of blood,” Thompson replied.

  “That’s not mine,” Tressa said.

  “Yeah, okay, so I’m going to my hut now,” Mike said. “I’ll tell someone that I’m there. You two take care, okay?”

  He was gone before either of the Thompsons could respond.

  “Let’s move him by the doorway,” Thompson said. “Make it easier for Dr. Raskov to remove the corpse if he wants to.”

  “Then what?” Tressa asked. “We wait to see if we get sick?”

  “Yes,” Thompson said. “That is exactly what we do.”

  ***

  Two more packs of raptors tried to take them out, yet Cash and the others fought them off each time. But not without a price.

  “Are you shitting me?” Haskins groaned. “Fucking teeth wound the only arm I have. Great. Just fucking great.”

  “Hold still,” Raff snapped as he tore open Haskin’s shirt and checked the wound. “Well…that’s a bunch of Hamburger Helper there.”

  “Way to sugar coat it, asshole,” Haskins said and hissed as Raff sprayed disinfectant gel across the shredded flesh that was Haskins’ bicep. Haskins glanced at the wound and hissed again. “Is that bone? Can you see bone?”

  “Cash, I need the foam,” Raff said.

  “We only have two cans,” Cash said.

  “Three,” Barbara said as she dug in her pack and pulled out a third can of wound repair foam.

  The group had stopped next to a copse of short, thorny trees. The trees were tall enough for them to sit under and enjoy the shade as the sun rose in the sky and the day’s temperature rose with it.

  “Here,” Barbara said and tossed the can to Raff who caught it easily.

  “This is going to fucking hurt,” Raff warned Haskins.

  “Yes, because right now it feels like a—FUCK!” Haskins bellowed.

  “Quiet,” Cash snapped as he stood off away from the trees, his rifle up and at the ready. “You want to deal with more raptors?”

  “Suck it…asshole,” Haskins grunted as Raff continued to spray foam into the wound.

  The foam dried in seconds, packing the wound to avoid necrosis of the flesh and to kill whatever bacteria and microbes came from the raptor’s mouth. Raff finished up then wrapped the arm in gauze before he shoved a thermometer into Haskins’ ear.

  “A little warning,” Haskins said as he flinched. “Pop my fucking eardrum…”

  Barbara joined Cash and put her arm in his. He didn’t relax and she glanced up at him, worried.

  “What do you see?” Barbara asked.

  “That hill,” Cash said and nodded out at the landscape behind them. “It’s moving.”

  “This way?” Barbara asked.

  Cash smiled. “I tell you a hill is moving and you ask the direction its moving in, not whether or not the hill is actually a hill.”

  “I assume it’s not a hill, Tre,” Barbara replied. “Dino?”

  “Would have to be a big dino,” Cash said.

  “The Diplodocus mother would be that size,” Dr. Xipan said from directly behind them, making Barbara jump and Cash frown. “Perhaps there is another one and it is following us.”

  “Why?” Cash asked.

  “It could be related to the baby and mama,” Dr. Xipan said. “Now it’s mourning and we’re the last thing it smelled on its family.”

  “So it follows us?” Cash asked.

  “I do not know,” Dr. Xipan said and returned to the shade under the trees. “I was only making a guess.”

  “Do you have binoculars?” Barbara asked.

  “Here,” Cash said and handed her his rifle. “The scope is more powerful.”

  Barbara took the weapon and eyed through the scope. She moved the rifle back and forth a few degrees then gave it back to Cash.

  “There’s more than one,” Barbara said. “I count at least four, maybe five.”

  Cash took the rifle back and studied the horizon for a couple of minutes.

  “Shit. You’re right,” Cash said. “How’d I miss that?”

  “You’re exhausted,” Barbara replied.

  “No more exhausted than you.”

  “Really? How are your legs feeling? Those exo-braces making this walk smooth and easy?”

  “I’ve had to deal with worse conditions.”

  “Doesn’t answer my question.”

  Cash sighed.

  “If I admit that my thighs are on fire and my calves want to seize up at any second, will that make you feel better?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  “Then how my legs feel doesn’t matter. We have to walk. We have no choice.”

  “It is too bad we cannot ride the giant dinosaurs,” Pytor said from behind them.

  “Jesus Christ,” Cash snapped. “You all need to stop sneak
ing up behind me. I’m gonna shoot the next person that does.”

  “How would that even be possible?” Barbara asked.

  “I’d use my rifle,” Cash replied.

  “No, I mean, how would riding the dinos be possible?” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “I said it was too bad we cannot,” Pytor responded. “I do not think we can ride them.”

  “Would be interesting if we could,” Barbara said. “I’ve ridden Elvis before.”

  “There’s a major difference between an Ankylosaurus that has grown up knowing only people and those massive beasts out there,” Cash said.

  “Still…” Barbara put a finger to her lips. “Something to think about.”

  “Well, we have plenty of time to think while we walk,” Cash said. “Raff? Is Haskins good to go?”

  “I don’t know, Tre,” Raff said and looked at Haskins. “Haskins? Are you good to go?”

  “You betcha,” Haskins said. “I’m dizzy from loss of blood and all I’ve eaten today is a protein bar and something yellow and mushy.”

  “Eggs,” Dr. Xipan said.

  “No. Those were not eggs,” Haskins replied. Raff helped him to his feet. “But, hey, know what sounds like fun? Walking halfway across this continent while we hope we are not only going in the right direction, but we’re in the right time and space. Woo to the fucking hoo.”

  “So, you’re good to go then,” Cash said.

  “Yep,” Haskins replied. “But I won’t be doing any shooting.”

  “I can take the rifle,” Pytor said.

  Everyone from Flipside shared a look.

  “I will not be turning on you,” Pytor insisted. “I need all of you to survive this. And I do not believe your base will allow me inside if I return on my own.”

  “Give him the rifle,” Raff said.

  “You sure?” Haskins asked.

  “Yes. Give it to him,” Raff responded then focused on Pytor. “Turn on us and you’ll wish that virus had killed you.”

  “I will not turn on any of you,” Pytor said. “I prefer to live.”

  Haskins handed Pytor the rifle and the Russian checked the magazine then the chamber before nodding.

  “Thank you,” Pytor said. “I will not let you down.”

  “This whole place has let us down,” Cash said. “We have a long walk. Let’s get back to it.”