Chapter 10
Carlie and the others were led along the
forest pathway through the dense canopy while their guide Alejandro wove along
the trail like a deer. Carlie realized just how taxed her body was from
fighting in the sun as her skin tried to soak up the cool shade. She followed
behind the sinewy man while he led them along a half-mile of faint trails
inland and then over a small volcanic escarpment that led down a ridgeline to
the other side of the island. The man explained the names of the plants along
the path and interpreted the occasional monkey chatter in the canopy. His
verbal delivery seemed rehearsed, as if he had depressed a play button for a
group of tourists. She thought him harmless enough and had little choice but to
follow him if they were to help Amy. His mannerisms reminded her of an article
she had once read about solitary lighthouse keepers and their odd social habits
or lack thereof. It was clear that he was well-educated and when she questioned
him about it, he replied that he had gone to the University of Texas in San
Antonio and studied wildlife conservation. He had been assigned to the island
as the caretaker four years previous by the Nature Conservancy and prior to
that had worked in human rights in Guatemala where he was from. He struck
Carlie as a caring person but was bristly at times with his curt replies; he
seemed cut out for a hermetic life on this rugged island.
As they descended the ridge, the
biological station below came into view. Upon approaching, Carlie could see the
thrifty layout which consisted of a single-story structure of white plankboard
with a tin roof which had served as a classroom and living quarters for
visiting researchers and school groups. Next to this was a small outdoor
kitchen with overhead thatched huts and wooden tables. A small array of solar
panels and water catchment barrels lined the stone-tiled floor next to it. Fifty
yards away to the right was a two-story lookout tower used for sea and wildlife
observation.
“That is my home,” said Alejandro,
pointing to the tower. “Fifty feet off the ground with a zipline that also goes
into the jungle canopy to other platforms so I have several escape routes. The
lower floor is my living space and kitchen and the upper floor has my viewing
and radio equipment along with maps of the region for plotting turtle
sightings.”
“What’s with the .22 magnum rifle with the
bull barrel?” Carlie said. “That’s an unusual choice of rifle that I wouldn’t
have expected to see down here.”
“Ah, you know your firearms, impressive.
Were you a hunter?”
“The job I used to have saw to it that I
was versed in shooting.”
“These were issued to myself and my
colleagues for reducing the rodent and monkey population so the turtle nesting
sites were not molested. Though I have some other rifles at my abode that I
acquired from a maritime security vessel after the outbreak, I still prefer my
old rifle.”
“Something that’s puzzled me,” said Shane.
“How come we didn’t see any creatures on that side of the island when we arrived
and then there were a shitload of ’em this morning?”
“The storm last night brought them in,”
the older man said. “Whenever the sea is choppy, there are bound to be a bunch
of the dead falling off the cruise ships and docks on the mainland that then
drift over here eventually.”
“And where is here, exactly?” shouted
Jared from the rear of the line.
As they rounded a bend in the trail and an
emerald bay came into view beyond the main compound, Alejandro spread out his
arms. “This is Isla Contoy. And although it’s only 8.5 kilometers long, it’s
all paradise.”
“How far to the mainland from here?” said
Carlie.
“About an hour’s boat ride but that place
is a wasteland,” Alejandro said, pausing to lean against the trunk of a palm
tree and look at her. “You should rest here a while and let the young lady
recover. Afterwards, if you want, we can go take a trip to Cancun for supplies.
I need to make a supply run in a few weeks anyway. I can use some company—for a
while anyway,” he said, turning around and continuing onward.
“You said you had a radio,” Carlie said,
looking over her shoulder at Pavel and forcing herself to remember the need to
get him back to the States. “What reach does it have? Can you pick up any
chatter from the U.S.?”
“Yes, but it is spotty at times. It’s a
low-watt HAM radio designed to communicate with the mainland but there is a way
of boosting its output. There is also a helicopter and police vehicles near the
main strip of beachside hotels in Cancun. That might provide you with radio
components that could be used to strengthen the signal of my radio. That is, if
we could get to it.”
When they arrived at the compound,
Alejandro ushered them around the back to a gate that connected to the
eight-foot-high chain-link fence that surrounded the small facility. Rushing up
to the entrance were two border collies who eagerly pranced around the gate as
their owner unlocked it.
“Dogs, eh?” said Shane. “I didn’t think
I’d ever see one of them again.”
“They are quite friendly and always let me
know when the undead are near. I don’t dare take them with me on my hikes
though for fear of losing them to those unholy creatures. I couldn’t bear to be
without them.”
As the gate opened, the two
black-and-white border collies ran up to inspect the new arrivals.
Shane knelt down to pet them and ran his
weathered hands over the soft head of the nearest one, who eagerly thrust its
wet muzzle into his palm.
“What are their names?”
“The smaller one to your left is Mira and
the other one is Ally.”
“Mira—that’s a pretty name,” said Pavel.
“Yes….why yes it is….” He paused, clearing
his throat. “My daughter named her,” Alejandro said with a rigid expression on
his face. He drew in a deep breath and rubbed his thumb and forefinger along
his temple. “Uhm…come this way…we must get your friend inside and look at her
wound. I have some antiseptics and other meds we can provide her with.”
As they walked into the gravel-covered
courtyard, Carlie closed up the gates behind the group. Then she gazed out at
the jade-green waters in the distance and then back to the compound, taking in
her new surroundings.
It finally looks like we might have a place to rest
our weary bones for a while. I could sure go for an actual hot shower and some
private space for even an hour. I’m not sure what that will feel like or how to
even plan for anything beyond our next meal. Is this ordeal really over or has
it just begun anew in a different light?
She looked around the area and up at the massive
palm trees.
God, what a lovely postcard this would’ve made. This guy has had
it good, living in this sanctuary
—
all of his needs taken care of.
What
it must’ve been like being in his shoes compared to the hell we’ve just
endured.
She felt her breathing loosen up and her stride lighten. As she
reflected on the comfort of her simple surroundings, she looked over to the
right where there was a lush garden and beyond it to a three-foot row of dirt
with a wooden crucifix at its end.
Chapter 11
Later that evening, after Alejandro had
tended to Amy’s wounds and provided her with antibiotics, the rest of the group
took turns using the solar-powered shower house and getting civilized again.
Despite his eccentricities, Alejandro turned out to be a gracious host and
invited them up to his lookout perch for dinner. After a supper of canned beef
stew, fresh mango slices, and red wine, they sat around the small room and
alternated between hearing Alejandro’s spotty knowledge on world events and
glancing out at the glistening bay in the distance.
The two-story lookout was designed to
comfortably house two people and their research equipment. The structure stood on
massive metal posts fifty feet high with a staircase leading to a wrap-around
porch made of welded metal. The first level was for storage and contained a
well-stocked pantry, clothing, blankets, a wall-mounted HAM radio, medical
supplies, and telemetry devices for wildlife monitoring studies. In one corner
was a blue barrel filled with semi-automatic rifles Alejandro had obtained from
a maritime security vessel that had run aground after the viral outbreak
consumed the region. On a gray metal shelf beside the rifles were numerous
pistols, magazines, and boxes of ammunition.
The second level was the living quarters
and survey area which was comprised of large windows on all four walls. These
opened upward to allow for an unobstructed view of the surrounding jungle and
beach. On the right side was a small bed with a white metal frame, a long table
covered with maps, a pair of oversized binoculars, and field journals. The rest
of the room contained a stove, cooking pots, a spice rack, several wooden
chairs, a desk, a bookcase, and personal storage compartments. Solar panels
mounted on the roof provided interior lighting.
After everyone had finished cleaning the
table, they spread out along the floor or on the simple furniture while the two
affectionate border collies continually migrated from person to person. Matias
broke off and went below to examine the HAM radio.
Carlie stood on the outside platform with
her hands on the tarnished railing and stared out at the jungle below.
Alejandro came out a few minutes later and stood with a cup of tea.
“It’s nice here. I can see why you
wouldn’t want to leave,” she said.
“Yes, this patch of jungle has treated me
well. It has been a good sanctuary and, at times,” he paused, his voice
wavering, “a healing salve.” He looked down at the small grave below and squeezed
his eyes shut briefly then abruptly turned back to Carlie. “You are welcome to
stay as long as you like. There certainly is no shortage of supplies on the
cruise ships or mainland.” He took a sip from his porcelain mug and then rested
it on the railing. “You will have to forgive my gruff demeanor earlier when we
first met. It had been a long time since I had so many words spoken at me.”
“It’s OK. I thought about that on the walk
here. Though we can drive each other nuts at times, my friends and I have all
been surviving together for so long, it almost feels we’re a single-celled
organism, finishing each other’s sentences and all. I can only imagine what you
were wondering when you happened across us today dressed in rags, running along
the beach.”
Alejandro gave a faint smile. “Ah, these
are strange times, aren’t they? Back in August before the world was engulfed, I
was hard at work with my studies here. You know—going to make a lasting impact
on the world of marine biology and help save a species from extinction.” He
finished his cup of tea, swishing the warm fluid around in his mouth before
swallowing. “Now, it seems like every other species will do just fine now that
we are nearly gone, even the leatherback turtles here. They will rebound in a
few decades now that there will be no more pressure from illegal hunting and
the wildlife trade.”
“Well, we’ve just been dealt a sucker
punch is all. We’re a pretty hardy race or we wouldn’t have made it this far in
history to begin with.”
“Humans may have outlived their usefulness
on this earth and nature is now dispensing with us—or God is simply toying with
us—I haven’t decided yet.” He tipped his cup over the edge, letting the last
droplet disappear into the inky black night below. “The human race may be on
the verge of extinction but the other species on this planet will be able to
make a comeback. Perhaps the apex predator we thought we were was just an
anomaly and will only be a small blip on this planet’s timeline. We are not and
never were the most important product of nature on this globe, though we’d like
to think so. Of course, that is the wildlife biologist in me talking. I’d like
to stick around.”
“Yeah, well that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t
go on trying to survive,” said Carlie. “We were born to claw our way to the top
and fight our way out of the primordial pit apart from the other creatures.”
“‘Apart from the other creatures’… that is
a very western thing to say. Like we have dominion over the earth and its
inhabitants when, perhaps, we are just a small cog in the larger workings of
evolutionary forces. That’s why I had a job as a caretaker of this island:
because people thought that the turtles, the birds, the natural resources
around them were for exploitation.”
“Yet here we are,” Carlie said. “Humans
are amazing predators and that’s not something to apologize for.”
“There will always be a small percentage
of any population that doesn’t succumb to nature’s bitchy moods. People like
yourselves who have defied the odds due to sheer willpower and brute strength,
or, in my case, being in the right place at the right time coupled with plenty
of luck.”
“And plenty of ammo,” said Carlie. “Ammo
is another huge factor in a person’s survival these days.”
****
As the night wore on, Carlie continued
conversing with Alejandro indoors, eventually divulging some of her background,
the details in tracking down the origins of the virus, and what led to them
being stranded. She explained her pressing sense of duty to return to the U.S.
and the role Pavel held in formulating a possible cure for their ravaged world.
Just as she finished, Matias walked into the room and leaned against the door
frame, staring into space. “It’s gone…the base is gone. White Sands, I think
it’s been compromised. I modified the HAM radio frequency to bounce off the
existing repeater towers in the southern U.S. mainland and send a message to
White Sands but I just kept getting their emergency relay beacon.”
“What does that mean?” said Amy, joining
the others who had stepped out onto the porch. “Maybe they’re just on lockdown
or something, right?”
“Or the radio wasn’t able to get past
their wavelength?” said Jared.
“No, that beacon is only activated when
there is a base-wide security breach where all personnel have either evacuated
or…” Shane said, pausing to look around the room. “Or there is a large-scale terminal
incident.”
“They’re all dead—you’re saying everyone
at that base is gone,” said Jared, whose face had changed to a petrified
expression. “How’s that possible?”
“We’ve been away a long time,” said
Carlie. “They must have gotten overrun by creatures in the region or had
someone inside get infected and spread the virus.
“I wonder if Eliza and the president made
it out, or General Adams?” whispered Carlie, interlacing her fingers and trying
to ignore her sweaty palms.
“Now what?” said Pavel. “What were your
emergency protocols in the event your facility at White Sands was compromised?”
Everyone shot grave looks at each other as
the room grew heavy with silence. “I figured that no one came looking for us
after the destroyer went down because they were stretched thin on resources but
now,” she said, rubbing her chin, “now, it seems like they may have all
perished, and no one else knew about our mission and location.”
“But your protocols…” Pavel said again.
“Surely there must be other bases that would be operational and would take up
the helm of command.”
Shane put his glass down on the floor
beside his chair. “The only place I recall hearing about that was still
functional was Fort Lewis in Washington. That would become the new central
command in the western U.S. if White Sands fell.”
Matias grabbed the large wall map they had
looked at earlier and unrolled it on the floor in the middle of the group. “We
are here,” he said, pointing at a tiny dot of land in the ocean east of Cancun,
Mexico. Then he slid his finger along the map past Mexico City, San Diego, San
Francisco, Portland, and stopped just south of Seattle. “And this is Fort
Lewis.”
Jared was scratching the scruff on his
left cheek. “Damn, that’s a helluva stretch.”
“I’d say over two thousand miles at
least,” said Matias.
“How are we going to get there from here?”
said Amy.
“We could mountain bike,” said Jared with
a smirk. “Or use a hot-air balloon. Shit—this whole thing sucks.”
Amy shoved him back in his chair. “Just
shut up, genius. My leg doesn’t hurt as much from all the painkillers but don’t
make me expend energy kicking you in the ass. Besides, I haven’t decided if I’m
even gonna travel with you again after this.”
“What about sailing up the coast from here
to say, Galveston, Texas or Corpus Christi?” said Alejandro. “There’s no
shortage of sailboats near Cancun. The trade winds are good now and will be in
full swing until late winter.”
“Except none of us are experienced
sailors. That sounds like it could just lead to a replay of being a castaway
again,” said Amy.
“You mentioned a helicopter near the beach
in Cancun,” said Matias. “What can you tell me about it?”
“It was used by maritime security and
mostly kept by the resorts for med-evacing drunken college kids who sustained
head injuries from diving off the hotel balconies into the swimming pools,”
said Alejandro, leaning back to his desk and pawing through a green bowl full
of keys. He fished out a large silver key with a white fingergrip and tossed it
to Matias. “I got those off the Maritime Security boat along with the weapons
in my possession—those belong to the helicopter according to the captain’s
logbook.”
Matias rubbed the key between his fingers.
“Probably a twin-engine chopper similar to what our Coast Guard used,” said
Matias. “Those are pretty standard along the coast here in Mexico and Latin
America. If that’s the case then it will have a decent fuel capacity so we
would be able to make it as far as northern Mexico along the Arizona border
before we need to top off the tank. From there, it’d be a straight shot to San
Diego. Then we’d have to hit the outlying airports on our way up the coast
towards Washington. The rural airstrips are far more likely to have fuel left.”
“There are those federale airstrips south
of the Arizona border that we used to use during joint-DEA ops,” said Shane. “Those
would be a good bet.”
“Look, as much as I’d like to get back to
the States and see what’s happening, this plan sounds like a helluva gamble,”
said Jared. “I mean, we’re all dependent on that whirlybird to get us across
vast swaths of rugged country and then hope we find fuel along the way.” He
waved his arms up in the air. “We’ve got a good thing going here—a fairly
secure island, a gracious host, a mild climate, and from what Alejandro has
said, an unlimited supply of food on those cruise ships, not to mention resources
left on the mainland by all those hotels.”
Before Carlie could answer, Amy spoke up,
looking at her. “Look, I owe you a world of debt for all you’ve done for me
since we met, so don’t take this the wrong way, but do you really want to risk
venturing back into the storm again? For the first time in nearly two months,
we’re safe, we have a roof over our heads, and we can sleep through the night
without waking in a cold sweat gripping our machetes.”
Alejandro moved beside Carlie, looking at
the map and then over to her. “Sense of duty can be crippling or it can be
liberating.”
Carlie balled her fists and put them on
the table. “Let’s say we stay and play Swiss Family Robinson living here in the
trees. Next month or next year, we could be overrun by those creatures or by a
group of survivors with more firepower than us. There’s only strength in numbers
and the military bases offer the best hope of finding that,” said Carlie.
Pavel, who was stroking his gray beard,
tapped his finger on the location for Fort Lewis. “As we’ve talked about these
many weeks around the campfire, if we can make it back, I can resume my
research on the virus. I’m still guessing that there aren’t too many people at
your U.S. facilities who possess my background.”
“Look, people, we’re not even sure what
happened to White Sands so a military base could be a good bet to hedge against
the future but it just doesn’t seem like there’s certainty in even that anymore,”
said Jared.
Carlie reached back for her wine glass on
the table and took a sip then rolled her wrist around, staring at the red elixir
as if it was revealing her future. “The bottom line here is that we have to
think beyond ourselves and to the future of humankind. I know we’ve been solely
focused on our own survival for a long time and that this place we’re in now is
a paradise but we need to get Pavel back to the States so he can commence work
on finding a cure for this virus.”