The Eliminators 2 Page 10

  “They won’t be out of range.”

  “They got what? A week’s head-start on you?” Fred asked.

  “It’s been ten days since I had power,” Yates replied.

  “Then they can be anywhere,” Fred repeated. “They can be in California.”

  “They didn’t make it that far,” Yates said. “I know. I shut it down.”

  Rachel looked at him confused. “You shut it down? What do you mean?

  “Powered down. Shut down. Even the best mechanic won’t get it up and running. Like those car navigation help centers. They shut down a car if it’s stolen.”

  “That just sucks,” Rachel said. “Command gives Fred a cool ass vehicle and you guys get one that has antitheft.”

  “Please,” Yates said arrogantly. “Command didn’t give us anything. EPEV was mine long before this whole thing started.”

  “What do you mean?” Rachel asked.

  “I mean it’s mine. I designed it. Originally it was EPIV. Elite Prototype Intelligence Vehicle. Fourteen million dollars. When I was at MIT my design was commissioned for an undercover surveillance vehicle to be used to find terrorists. It didn’t get to launch because of everything. So when my father told me about the Eliminator initiative, I had the vehicle at my disposal.”

  “And you put together the Golden Cavalry?” Rachel asked. “You? Or did you bring the EPEV to the party.”

  “Oh, I found the best team I could get,” said Yates.

  “Wow.” Rachel sat back. “So … let me get this straight. You have this fourteen million dollar intelligence vehicle and a golden boy team. You’re on your way back east to end the Eliminators tour, like the rest of us, you stop for the night and just as you are unloading, the vehicle is ambushed and they take your team hostage.”

  “Yes.”

  “Any gunfire?”

  “No.”

  “And the ambushers take your EPEV east, same direction you were headed, and kept going that way, oddly enough until the portable died.”

  “Yes, eight hours, that’s all the portable lasts,” Yates said.

  “Computer to shut the shit down is also destroyed accidentally?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What … what exactly are you getting at?” Yates asked, standing up. “I need a drink.”

  “I’m getting at … the possibility that … Yates, did it ever occur to you that maybe your team wasn’t ambushed but rather they just left your ass behind?”

  “Oh my god, please.” He placed his hand on his chest. “You’re saying my team left me?”

  “I am.”

  “Explain how I saw movement?”

  “If they weren’t stiffs, maybe they were … help?” Rachel guessed. “Others they wanted to join up with.”

  “Nonsense,” Yates flung out his hand. “Why would they leave me behind? Why would they go through all that?”

  “Because maybe … and don’t take this the wrong way, maybe they didn’t like you because you can be an asshole.”

  “I can accept that I’m an asshole but I can’t accept that they would leave me be …” his eyes moved and locked somewhere else. “Is that … is that a hundred and twenty-fifth anniversary, limited edition, Gibson Hummingbird acoustic guitar?” he asked. “Just sitting there propped against a bench?”

  “It is,” Rachel answered.

  “Why is it sitting out of a case. Why is it just … sitting there?” Yates asked.

  “I uh …” Rachel shrugged. “Don’t know. How did you know what it was?”

  “I had one. I loaned it to my friend who was playing an important gig in Cleveland. I had an anniversary, number nine of the limited edition.”

  Rachel just looked at Fred.

  “Whose is this?” Yates asked. “And how did you acquire it?”

  Rachel pointed to Fred. “His nephew always wanted one.”

  “Can I …” Yates reached for it.

  Both Rachel and Fred replied. “No.”

  “Okay.” Yates withdrew his hand at the same time a beep rang out.

  “Al, I think your computer is on,” Fred said.

  Yates rushed over, sliding into the bench seat. His fingers tapped on the computer as it powered up.

  The start-up sequence seemed to take forever, but once it was booted, Yates entered into the program he needed. “Let me synch these …” He lifted the connected portable device. Within seconds after opening the program, a steady beeping rang out with a pulse red circle. “Yes. Got them. Found them. Not moving. Vehicle is still in shut down mode.”

  “Do you think your team is with the vehicle” Rachel asked.

  “I don’t know. But I’ll be able to locate them once we get to the vehicle in …” A few more clicks of the keys and Yates sat back. “Seminole, Oklahoma.”

  Rachel wasn’t sure how finding the vehicle was going to help him find his team, especially if they weren’t near the shut down super RV. Maybe Yates had been alone too long, maybe he was delusional. She supposed, in a few hours, when they got to the RV, one way or another, she’d find out.

  <><><><>

  The drive to find the missing EPEV would bring them well into the night, so they had to stop for the night. They did so just before the sun went down and a hundred miles from Seminole.

  While the others prepped the RV to hunker down for the night, Yates remained at that table, staring at the computer as if it would change.

  “What exactly am I looking at?” Barry asked, looking at the tiny screen on the phone like device. “It’s just a blip. Solid red dot.”

  “Yes,” Yates replied. “It means it isn’t moving and it’s disabled.”

  “Your RV?” Barry asked.

  “Okay. Stop. To call it an RV is to say it’s not much more than this …” Yates held his palm out pointing to his whereabouts. “This is much more.”

  Rigs mumbled as he walked by. “Fourteen million dollars more.”

  “Yes. Fourteen million dollars,” Yates snipped. “More than you’d ever see in your lifetime.”

  “Who cares now?” Rigs asked.

  “About fourteen million?” Yates shrugged. “Maybe no one. But if you saw the vehicle, you’d care. It is the ultimate Eliminator vehicle.”

  “So just curious,” Rigs folded his arms. “Is it the vehicle that makes you an Eliminator or do you actually get your hands dirty and Eliminate the dead?”

  “Oh!” Rachel said. “Like is it the man that makes the clothes or the clothes that make the man sort of thing?”

  Rigs snapped his finger and pointed at Rachel. “Yep. Exactly. Well … Al?”

  “I’ll have you know, I am good at what I do. Believe it or not, and probably one of the best on my team. Yes, the vehicle helps, but it helps my team. I put a lot of work and years into it before this all happened.”

  “And is that why you became an eliminator?” Rigs asked.

  “I don’t need to justify why I joined or started a team. I could have gone to France.”

  Rigs chuckled. “France? That’s an odd remark.”

  “Not really. Not when France was the last place standing. No infections, no dead. They sealed their borders. Not sure if it’s still like that, it was eight months ago.”

  “France,” Rigs nodded and smiled. “Actually, thanks. That helps. That helps a lot. That actually is the word I was looking for.”

  Yates shook his head slightly with a confused look. “What?”

  “Yeah,” Rachel said. “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing.” Rigs said.

  Yates sang out the word. “Okay.”

  “Question,” said Barry. “This handheld device tracks your vehicle?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does the computer do?”

  “It tracks the vehicle.”

  “If they both do the same thing, why use both?”

  Yates pointed to the computer. “This disables the vehicle, monitors the equipment and temperature. So … far everything is stil
l intact.”

  “But it doesn’t tell you about your team?” Barry asked.

  Yates shook his head. “Not at all. Whoever took them either still has them, killed them or they escaped. I’ll know when we get to my vehicle.”

  Barry crinkled his brow. “I’m confused, you said you don’t think they’re there. But once we get there you’ll know where they are.”

  “I’ll have an idea where they are. It’s hard to explain. I’ll show you when we get there.”

  “Then what?” Barry asked.

  “I power up the vehicle and go look for them.”

  “Alone?” Barry asked.

  “Yes. No need to bother you, I am sure you have a schedule to keep, some town to get to,” Yates said. “We will too. Once we’re back together. They may be home.”

  Everyone looked at Rachel when she snorted a laugh.

  “Rach?” Rigs asked. “What’s so funny?”

  Rachel shook her head.

  “She’s laughing because …” Yates said. “Somebody, in this room. Not to mention names, thinks my team wasn’t ambushed, but rather left me.”

  Barry cleared his throat. “Son, you don’t need to mention names. It could have been any of us saying that.”

  “So all of you think my team left me? Just … left me. They said, ‘Oh, Yates’ a dick, let’s leave him and let him find his own way back’?”

  No one replied.

  “Fine. Fine. You know what? I need some air.” He spun around and stormed out.

  Sandy jumped a little at the slamming of the door, then giggled at her own reaction. She stood by the grill watching the burgers. One they used only when staying in the RV overnight. The unit pulled out from the back.

  “You scared me,” she said to Yates. “Dinner is almost done. One or two burgers?”

  “I’m not hungry this evening. I’ll have a granola bar later.”

  Sandy shrugged. “Suit yourself. They’re good.” She looked over, watching him pace. “Something wrong?”

  “Your team hates me, Doctor. Speaking of which, why do they have the team doctor cooking on the grill?”

  “I like it. Besides, I’m the best cook. I don’t mind. It’s like cooking for my family.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What did they do to make you think they don’t like you?” Sandy asked.

  “Totally disrespecting my team. Diminishing the severity of what happened to them or what could happen, the danger they’re in. Implying, mind you, that my team left me behind on purpose.”

  “Oh.” Sandy looked over at him. “You know, take this from a doctor’s point of view or an elder. You could … you could try being a little nicer.”

  “Now, why would I do that?”

  “Goodness, I don’t know. What a horrible suggestion on my part. Forgive me.”

  “Forgiven.”

  Sandy did a double take after hearing his response. She returned to her burgers and tried to not show a reaction, to appear neutral. Even if she had to fake her pleasantries, Sandy would be polite. Thankfully, it would be short lived. She took comfort in knowing that Seminole, Oklahoma wasn’t that far away, and neither she nor her team would have to deal with the temporary newcomer for long after that.

  SEVENTEEN – NOT BAD

  March 10 – Day 325

  Seminole, OK

  “Couldn’t have asked for a better spot.” Rigs stood with Rachel on top of the RV. He peered through a set of binoculars.

  “They definitely stopped here on purpose.”

  They had parked their own RV at a distance, spotting it in the field, off and away from where other RV’s were parked in the RV campsite.

  “Yep.” He handed her the binoculars. “They were here for a couple days. Without a doubt were stopped and settled when frat boy shut it down. Table outside, the RV extension pulled out, looks like a fire pit, not sure. What do you think?”

  “I can’t see it clearly. I think it’s a fire pit. What makes that vehicle worth fourteen million dollars?” she asked of the slightly long, but silver tube looking vehicle.

  “Oh, he’s so exaggerating,” Rigs said. “He’s full of himself.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “I wonder if he really even can take down a stiff. Did you see any weapons?”

  “Maybe in his bags,” Rachel said.

  “Why put them there? I mean, all of us always have something on us.”

  “Probably because he really doesn’t know how to use them,” Rigs said. “You know damn well his team left him. Probably got tired of carrying his ass, along with putting up with his pompous rich, boy bullshit.”

  “You really think he designed a fourteen million dollar intelligent vehicle.”

  “I don’t even think he went to MIT,” Rigs said. “But all that, along with the big deal vehicle and his super skills will be exposed here shortly.”

  “How many do we have out there, I count … twenty-six?” She handed the binoculars back to Rigs.

  “About that. There might be some in the other RVs, perhaps a few lingering in the woods. The bulk are around the EPEV.”

  “Why?”

  “Looks like they’re rationing someone’s remains. Can’t be sure, but there are stiff bodies everywhere.” Rigs turned left and right. “Someone cleaned up this camp.”

  “Probably the Golden Cavalry less their golden boy.”

  “They had to know he could shut it down on them,” Rigs said. “Like a kid taking his toy and going home.”

  “He couldn’t let them have it. It is a fourteen million dollar … camper.”

  Rigs laughed. “Okay enough of picking on him. Our time is done with him. Let’s clear the area and send him on his way.” He paused. “You think … you think they’re acting different. I mean … it looks like they’re sleeping.” He again, handed the binoculars to Rachel.

  Rachel looked again, even though she didn’t need to.

  Rigs was right, they did look like they were sleeping. Only one or two meandered around, while the rest didn’t move. They leaned on each other, against the RV.

  “You know in Walking Dead, one of the episodes, early on, the main character arrived in the city and a whole slew of zombies were sleeping on a bus. But they weren’t sleeping. I think when there is nothing to follow or no scent to find, they kind of go into dormant mode. Then again,” she returned the binoculars. “We could also be looking at them different since Kasper.”

  “I’m pretty sure, Rach, they aren’t getting brain stimulating injections like Kasper. Alright, let’s get the others and formulate a plan.”

  <><><><>

  “Close to thirty,” Rigs explained, moving his finger around in a circle on the computer screen map. “Most of which are just kinda lingering around the EPEV. Might be a few stragglers in the trees or around camp.”

  “It looks like they were put down,” Rachel said. “Someone cleared the camp.”

  Yates shook his head with a slightly upward roll of his eyes. “This area was eliminated. Did you look for an E?”

  “Didn’t see any,” Rigs said. “But we have close to thirty out there. We need to clear them, get Al to his multimillion dollar trailer so we can head to Stroud, which is our Eliminator stop.”

  Yates looked up at Rigs. “You guys are part of the renegade movement?”

  “No. No.” Rigs shook his head. “President bit it, Liz is leading, she started the Eliminators again.”

  “That’s … that’s fantastic,” said Yates. “So you mean if I find my team, we don’t have to go home?”

  “Nope. Hopefully, in the next couple weeks command will be back in St. Louis. If … you did more than Morse Code, you probably would know that. Anyhow … thoughts?” Rigs asked.

  Fred suggested. “Draw them out? Pull close enough to get them away from the prize mobile, keep this RV safe along with our doc, and we take them out that way. If we can draw them away, four of us, heck that’s six a piece, easy as getting drunk on a Thursday.”

  Yate
s lifted his hand to Fred. “While I don’t know what getting drunk on a Thursday has to do with anything. There’s five of us if we leave out the doctor.”

  “Okay,” Fred said. “Rigs? Draw ‘em out.”

  “Yep. My thoughts exactly,” Rigs replied. “Draw them out.”

  They stood in a line before the RV, Barry center, taking point, with Rachel and Fred to his left, Rigs and Yates to his right.

  Rachel watched Fred down what looked like a quarter bottle of vodka. Straight down, no breaks.

  “You alright?” she asked.

  “I think now is a good time to mention I am scared to death of these things.”

  “How are you an Eliminator?”

  “Because once I start killing them, I go into this panic black out.”

  “That’s not a bad thing,” she examined what he held in his hand. “Is that … a barbecue fork?”

  “It is.” Fred held up the eighteen inch two prong fork. “My weapon of choice, that and a crowbar. So you know, I can’t use a gun.”

  “Mine are a honing rod …” she held it up. “And gladius. Rigs uses a gladius, but likes a garden pic as his second. Barry is strictly an aluminum baseball bat. He played major league ball for six years before he blew out his knee.” She leaned back to look at Yates. “Is that two swords he has?”

  “Yeah, little bigger than yours. He pulled them from his bag. Now let’s see if he can use them.”

  “Alright, guys,” Rigs stated. “Guns only if needed. You know the routine. Meet them half way. Draw from the mega van. And for the word France …”

  “France?” Rachel asked.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Rigs said. “So for old times’ sake …” He raised his voice. “Sandy, we’re ready.”

  The song American Pie had just started but the sound of Rigs voice was what really drew the dead from the silver EPEV.

  They rose from their dormant state and, since most were runners, they raced toward the team. Trying to keep them from hoarding or mobbing, Rachel moved further away, trying to catch the attention of a few.

  Just as she raised her weapons to engage, she heard Fred scream. It wasn’t a fearful scream, more so a raspy attempted at a war cry as he charged forth.