Caldera Book 7: The End Is Here

By Heath Stallcup

While Hatcher and the survivors strengthen the defenses of their new home, the people’s resolve begins to waver. New and unexpected faces join their ranks and the survivors must deal with the threats that the new world throws at them.
The Marauders have been broken, but Simon continues his crusade. His forces are scattered and face uncertain fates while he plots his revenge. If he can’t have his toys, nobody will.
The government continues to work towards a cure, but their best minds begin to feel that something more is wrong than just a species decimating virus. Paranoia creeps into the picture and the lead researchers feel forced to abandon the safety of their flotilla.
The Ragers are starving...and changing. What more can happen as the cannibalistic creatures begin to plot against the uninfected?

• Language: English
• Publisher: DevilDogPress
• Release date: Dec 25, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463102336

Heath Stallcup

Heath Stallcup was born in Salinas, California and relocated to Tupelo, Oklahoma in his tween years. He joined the US Navy and was stationed in Charleston, SC and Bangor, WA shortly after junior college. After his second tour he attended East Central University where he obtained BS degrees in Biology and Chemistry. He then served ten years with the State of Oklahoma as a Compliance and Enforcement Officer while moonlighting nights and weekends with his local Sheriff's Office. He still lives in the small township of Tupelo, Oklahoma with his wife and three of his seven children. He steals time to write between household duties, going to ballgames, being a grandfather to five and being the pet of numerous animals that have taken over his home. Visit him on Facebook.com or heathstallcup.com for news of his upcoming releases.

Book preview

Chapter 1

Hatcher didn’t need to look where the sentry was pointing. He saw the three large, yellow machines lumbering their direction, black smoke pouring from their stacks. What the hell? He walked slowly toward the gates and squinted as the sunlight beat down on the slow, yellow earth movers. He keyed his radio again. All security personnel muster at the front gates. Lock and load, men! Lock and load.

Who is that?

He didn’t have to look to recognize Candy’s voice. I have no idea. He pushed her back slightly. Secure the interior. Get the women and children as deep inside and under cover as you can. She turned to rush back inside and he yelled to her, Direct every able body to the front gates!

I’ll tell the tower to watch our flanks!

Go! He waved her off and stepped aside as men baring weapons rushed to the perimeter.

Are we sure they’re hostile?

Hatcher turned and gave the man a duh look. There are four hundred million abandoned cars in this country and they choose bulldozers to come and visit? You tell me.

Oh yeah…sorry.

Hatcher pushed the man further down the wall. Get on the platforms. Look for a shot but don’t waste ammo!

Roger slid to a stop and handed Hatcher an M4. Full auto if you need it.

Too hard to control. Hatcher slipped the lever on the side to semi-auto and braced against the side of the adobe wall. Choose your shots, boys!

The staccato of gun fire echoed off of the packed clay walls and Hatcher groaned as he watched the shots spark off of the hardened metal of the dozer blades. We have to flank them.

Roger turned and gave him a smile. I can head for that stand of trees.

You’ll need something more accurate than an M4. He glanced down the line and spotted a man holding a sporterized Glenfield 30.06 bolt action. Trade him, Hatcher pointed. Take extra ammo and be careful out there. That’s a bolt action so…

Right. Roger patted his shoulder as he rushed past and swapped weapons with the man. He stopped beside Cooper but Hatcher couldn’t hear the conversation. A moment later both men broke away from the wall and rushed back through the courtyard.

Hatcher yelled at the shooters to stop wasting ammo and noted one of the dozers breaking away and turning to the left. A moment later the other outside dozer broke right and angled away. They’re gonna hit us from three sides…

Hatcher brought the M4 up to this eye and tried to focus on one of the dozer drivers. The angle was too steep to line up the operator and he cursed. Somebody tell me they have an RPG under their bed!

He froze when the dozers stopped, one by one, and the middle one shut down. Next, the dozer on the left shut down. His mouth went dry and all of his fears were realized when the middle dozer opened its door and the squawk of a bullhorn was heard.

Whoever was operating the middle dozer yelled something through the bullhorn but it couldn’t be heard over the revving diesel engine of the third. A moment later all three machines sat idle in the field across from them.

As I was saying, the horn squawked. You fuckers got one chance! Surrender and we’ll only kill whoever is in charge. Hatcher groaned. He knew that voice. You are squatting on MY property. You’ve been eating MY food and you’re holding MY women. I want it all back.

Hatcher ground his teeth and stifled the curse that fought to escape his lips. I should have killed you when I had the chance, Simon.

Hatcher didn’t think. He leveled his rifle on the lead dozer and fired a round. Come and get it, asshole. He waved a man over with binoculars and stared off toward the stand of trees. Where are you, Roger?

The other two dozers fired up their engines and Hatcher felt his heart drop. On the ready, boys! Save your ammo, but if you see an opening, TAKE IT!

He spun back around and fired toward the advancing machine.

Record everything. No matter how trivial. Broussard pointed at the door. No one else in or out but we two until we know that he is no longer a risk to others.

Understood. Carol suddenly stood straighter and squared her shoulders. Watch his door while I gather my stuff.

Where are you going?

To get him some fluids and anti-inflammatories…and something to record my notes in.

Broussard watched her walk away and lowered his eyes to the deck. God forgive us.

He waited until Carol returned; she gave him a knowing look before pulling her mask back up and slipping into Kevin’s room. I’ll be back to relieve you in a few hours.

She nodded then pulled the door shut.

She dragged the chair over to his bed and wiped the sweat from his brow with a damp washcloth. You’re going to be just fine. She hoped she wasn’t lying.

She opened the bottle of acetaminophen and poured a short glass of water. Here. These will help.

Kevin opened his mouth and she dropped the capsules in then handed him the water. He choked slightly from trying to drink while reclining, but he washed the pills down and laid back on his pillow with a sigh. Am I dying?

She forced herself to laugh. From strep throat? I doubt it. She patted his arm then reached for his wrist. She stared at her watch, then jotted down his heart rate in her log.

If it’s just strep, why all the concern? Kevin’s eyes were red-rimmed and his brow was already soaked with sweat again.

She nodded. She had never sugar coated anything with him before, why start now. "Because while we’re ninety-nine percent positive that you have a common strain of strep, there is that slight chance that you may have contracted our modified strain. She gave him a shrug. Better safe than sorry."

Kevin nodded and leaned back. Thanks for being straight with me.

Don’t even think I’d lie to protect your feelings, Kevin McAlester. You’re too much of an asshole for me to bother with that.

He chuckled and gave her a broad smile. You know why I’m such an asshole, don’t you?

It’s just your nature?

He shook his head and closed his eyes. Because. Every time I get close to someone, they die. He sighed and turned his head slightly away from her. I like you…and I don’t want you to die.

She stared at him open mouthed, thankful the mask covered her expression. You’re a scientist. Surely you can’t believe in superstitions.

We live in a world where people are eating each other…I believe in all sorts of things I didn’t used to believe in.

Don’t tell me you’ve found religion.

He shook his head. No loving god could allow something like this to exist. He swallowed hard and winced. No, but I do believe in Karma. This may well be Mother Nature’s revenge on us.

She nodded. His explanation almost made sense.

Almost.

Well, don’t you worry. There’s no chance of me liking you back, so I’ll live forever. She gave him a wink and he chuckled again.

Sounds like a deal. He rolled to his side and curled up in a fetal position. "I’m going to sleep. I’m just…I’m so tired."

You do that. She pulled the wool blanket up and tucked it around his chin. I’ll be right here if you need anything.

Fine! Simon yelled into the bullhorn. You’re ALL going to be human pancakes! He twisted the key again and smiled when the diesel engine belched to life once more. Let’s move!

He watched as the people ran about, waving their guns and firing at the bulletproof machines. He eyed the wrought iron gates and aimed the bulldozer for the main entrance. He tapped at the lever, bringing the blade up slightly and cutting off any chance the Cagers had of getting in a lucky shot.

Simon whooped and banged his fist against the side of the machine, willing it to go faster. He peered past the farthest edge of the blade and noted a man at the corner of the property, propping his long gun along the top of the wall. He tapped the joystick and edged the dozer slightly more to the side, blocking the shooter’s line of sight. He was rewarded with a loud ping from the blade as it intercepted the attempted kill shot.

These assholes are in for a big surprise. He chuckled to himself as he pushed the machine on.

From the corner of his eyes he spotted a figure bolting between Shooter’s dozer and his own. Simon did a double take, slamming his foot down on the idler pedal. He sat up in the seat and watched as Shooter darted behind his bulldozer and attempted to climb up the back of his machine. He turned around in his seat and glared at the man. What in the flying fuck-shit do you think you’re doing?!

Shooter stared at him wide eyed, his finger pointing back at his own machine. Some motherfucker shot at me!

Simon beat against the rear glass of the cab. They’re ALL shooting at us you dimwit! He beat against the glass again. Get your ass back over there and—

He nearly pissed himself when the side glass of the cab exploded. He ducked instinctively and gripped the back of his seat with both hands. Holy shit! Somebody just shot at me!

That’s what I’m trying to tell you! Shooter kept low, balancing on the track and trying to keep out of the line of fire. Whoever it is shot my window out. I felt the bullet whiz by my face! He pointed to a stand of trees and Simon peered through the broken glass.

Wave Sinner over. We got to get the hell out of here.

But…but…you said they had the food in there. Shooter looked at him expectantly. We’re just gonna quit?

Simon slapped at the glass. No, we’re not gonna quit! Jesus Christ! We just have to come up with a better plan.

Shooter groaned as he waved Sinner closer to their idle machine. He backed the dozer in close to Simon’s machine. What’s going on?

Sniper! In the woods. Simon pointed to the far side of the field. We need to work together and protect each other with the blades. He reached across the cabin and tugged at the joystick, causing the dozer to turn sharply and Shooter to lose his balance on the tread.

Hold on! He scrambled to the rear of the dozer and ducked below the hydraulic cylinders attached to the root hooks. He braced his feet on the main frame and beat on the cab. Go.

Simon angled his machine to try to block gunfire from both the old folks’ home and the sniper in the trees. He glared toward the old folks’ home and flipped the men there the bird. I’ll be back and I promise, you won’t like how it turns out next time.

Trevor pulled Patricia around and wrapped her in his arms. He tugged his coat around her, enveloping her in the fabric and blocking the Ragers from her view. Don’t look, baby girl. Just…don’t look.

The lead Crazy stepped forward and shook his piece of pipe at the pair. The scream that he loosed sent Trevor’s hair on end and he involuntarily shuddered. Patricia struggled against his grip and he fought to hold her tight.

She tugged at his arm and her strength was more than Trevor bargained for. She nearly flipped him to the ground as she erupted from under his jacket.

Trevor fell hard on his ass and stared up at his little girl with wide eyes. She braced her tiny feet on the concrete and squared off against the pipe wielding Rager.

Trevor stared at her, a mix of emotions rushing through him at once. He watched as she raised her tiny fist at the creature and screamed. Her shrill little voice caused goosebumps on his flesh and he felt his blood run cold as she stood her ground against the monster.

The Rager paused and tilted his head to the side, staring at the girl. He opened his mouth and something akin to nails scraping a chalkboard escaped his throat.

Patricia took a half-step forward and screamed back at him. In Trevor’s mind, it was almost as if they were communicating, albeit through some horrible language only they understood.

He scrambled to get his feet under him again and Patricia reached behind and held him back in her grip. Don’t do it, baby girl. He’s too big. He pleaded with her, praying that she wouldn’t risk her own safety. I’ll keep them busy…you just RUN!

Her grip tightened on his jacket and Trevor couldn’t pull free. He pleaded with her but she stood steadfast, her eyes never leaving the Rager with the pipe.

She squared her shoulders and inhaled deeply. Trevor had a split second to prepare for the shrill scream that he knew was coming. He nearly fell over when he heard her scream, DAH-DEEE!

Trevor collapsed to his knees and stared at her open mouthed. Did you…did you just say…?

The Rager screamed something back at her and stumbled a half-step back. Patricia stood her ground and shook her little fist at him.

Trevor stared open mouthed as the monster disappeared back around the front of the RV, fading into the shadows.

His head spun around to check the other crazies behind him and he wanted to whoop with joy when they, too, had disappeared.

He collapsed to the ground and pulled her toward him. Did you just say…daddy? The words choked him and tears ran down his face as he pulled her to him.

She buried her head in his chest and he held her tight, rocking as he sobbed. I dunno how you did it, Peanut, but you just saved our bacon. He choked back the sobs and pushed her to arm’s length, staring at her. Say it again, baby. Please? He sniffed back the tears. Just say, ‘daddy’ one more again.

She stared at him blankly.

Trevor gave her a tear stained smile. It’s okay, baby girl. I heard you when it counted the most. He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

We’re gonna be okay. He stroked her nearly bald head as he rocked. You hear me? We’re gonna be okay.

Chapter 2

Hatcher collapsed beside the gate, his legs shaking from the adrenaline rush. Hank reached out to pull him back to his feet and Hatcher waved him off. Give me a minute. He took three deep breaths then reached for Hank’s hand.

That was close, huh?

Hatcher nodded, his hands shaking as he turned back toward the main building. I’ve faced Zulus in Yellowstone and I've faced our own military. But that? He shook his head hard, his face a mask of anger. That scared me so much that I’m pissed.

Hank watched him march toward his office and hesitantly fell into step behind him. But we ran them off, Hatch. Everybody’s safe.

Hatcher squeezed his fists shut and counted to five, trying hard not to explode on one of his own. "No, Hank, we’re not safe. He reached for the spare bottle of cheap liquor and filled his coffee cup. Nobody’s safe so long as those assholes are still breathing."

Hank took a deep breath and waited for Hatcher to calm down. He watched the man practically drain a coffee mug of brown liquor, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before he spoke again. Hatch, there’s no way we can prepare for any and all contingencies. If we built a wall that a tank couldn’t knock down, they’d come in by air. If we built a dome over the place, they’d tunnel under. He sat down across from him and gave him a solemn stare. The best we can hope for is to come together as a community and fight whatever the world throws at us.

Hatcher squeezed his eyes shut and slowly shook his head. Don’t you get it, Hank? I went back to ground zero with the military…watched good men die so they could develop a cure. He held his hands out wide. Do you see anybody cured? I sure as hell don’t. He tossed back the last of the drink then poured another.

Hatch, that shit takes time…

Time? That’s something we don’t have much of. We got assholes like Simon out there trying to steal the days we have left, destroy what we built; we got Zulus hovering around like buzzards to pick our bones and all we can do is seal ourselves inside…a prison of our own making.

Roger appeared in the doorway and shrugged. All it took was a couple of well-placed shots and… He glanced around the room. What’s wrong? Did somebody get hurt?

Hank hooked a thumb toward Hatcher. His pride. He walked out of the office without looking back and Hatcher glared at him as he disappeared down the hallway.

What was that all about?

Hatcher tossed back the drink and fell into his chair. Nothing.

Oh, that was something. You both look butthurt.

Hatcher screwed the lid back on the cheap bourbon and dropped it into his file drawer. We’re fighting an uphill battle, Rog.

Roger nodded. Sometimes. Today, not so much. He smiled at Hatcher as he clapped his shoulder. We beat ‘em back.

Hatcher stared at him with bleary eyes. This time. Now they’ll think of something else. He leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. It never ends. If it’s not the Marauders, it’s the Zulus. If it’s not the Zulus, it’s lack of resources.

Roger sat down across from him and gave him a concerned stare. We won, Hatch. What part of that are you angry about? He glanced out into the foyer as people returned to their normal routines. Nobody is hurt or killed. We got a bulldozer sitting out there that we can do whatever we want with. How is any of this a bad thing?

Hatcher took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You just don’t get it. It’s never ending.

Yeah. So?

So? How are we supposed to keep people safe when there are assholes like Simon out there trying to burn down the world?

Roger leaned forward and gave him his best angry stare. The way people have always been kept safe. By not giving up. He pushed up out of the chair and glared at him. By not wussing out. By stepping up and facing whatever the assholes of the world throw at us. Roger stepped back and shook his head at him. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, man, but this ain’t the Daniel Hatcher I first met.

Hatcher snorted and rubbed a hand across his quickly numbing face. Yeah? How’s that?

The Daniel Hatcher I first met would welcome the challenge. He’d shake his fist in their face and challenge them to bring their worst. Roger opened the door to the office and stepped into the hall. He wouldn’t wallow in self-loathing ‘cause he didn’t expect the attack that he faced and still won.

Hatcher watched him turn and disappear into the hallway. He lowered