Chapter 3

Outbreak - Day 4

River Bend Campground

Wasatch Mountains, Utah

 

The cutoff road was right where the map indicated it would be. Cade followed it to the right and continued on further until he saw the small sign that read River Bend Campground.

The symbols on the map denoted that the place would be unimproved - and it was. There were only eight sites and all but one was empty.

A white Jeep CJ was backed in next to one of the sites. The odor of carrion was evident; except for the flies he detected no movement. A red, three-person North Face tent was erected directly behind the Jeep.

The Special Ops motorcycle was very quiet, although the exhaust was baffled; it still made enough noise to flush two very large ravens from the tent. They cursed the intruder with their caws and flew into the tallest tree where they continued to let their displeasure be known.

Cade silenced the bike’s engine, dismounted and drew his Glock 17 from the holster strapped to his thigh.

Beer cans were scattered near the bumper of the old beat up 4x4. He knelt and touched the back of his right hand to the mound of ashes in the rock-ringed fire pit. Cold. Next he slowly traversed the front of the tent trying to ascertain if anything remained inside. All that he could see and hear between the open flaps was a cloud of small black flies. Using a long stick, he carefully parted the door to the fly hotel. A corpse - thankfully still dead - was splayed out on top of a pair of green sleeping bags. Maggots had made the remains of the dead camper their new home. The woman’s head was only attached to her body with strands of dried skin and shiny corded muscle, the eye sockets had been picked clean. There was little left of her to explain how she ultimately met her violent end. Bite marks were visible on her exposed skin but Cade couldn’t tell if they were human or animal. Some of the damage had obviously been incurred by the ravenous black birds, which were still in the trees making a ruckus.

Judging by the decomposition and the amount of flies and their larvae, she had been dead for a few days. Blood was splattered throughout the interior but had dried days ago. The smell in the hot tent was enough to make a normal person vomit. Cade had seen it all and had ceased being normal days ago. On the first day of the outbreak he had been forced to re-kill his favorite neighbors. They technically weren’t alive, but he dispatched them all the same. That was the last time he had vomited. The former Delta Force operator was all business now. The sight and smell of the slaughtered woman didn’t faze him.

Cade had only glanced in the tent momentarily. He removed his head from the opening and scanned his surroundings, seeing no threats in sight. Since darkness by his estimation was only an hour away he made the decision to stay the night at the River Bend campground. Seeing as how the tent was already occupied, he opted to sleep in the vehicle. It would provide minimal security but at least he would wake up dry. A low pitched rumble moved through the canyon; the thunder announcing that the mountain thunderstorm had arrived. Cade sniffed the air. The smell of ozone was a portent that lightning might also make an appearance.

Cade removed the silenced M4 from the hard plastic holster on the side of the bike, and grabbed an MRE from the saddle bag. As an afterthought he retrieved the night vision goggles as well, and then wheeled the bike in front of the Jeep and prepped it for a quick getaway.

The Jeep was unlocked and strangely devoid of the usual cooler, stove, lantern, as well as any other normal camping accoutrements. It appeared the owner only planned on a quick overnighter. The woman was probably trying to get away from the infected on the first day of the outbreak and expected the government to quickly get the situation under control. Hundreds of millions of Americans held the same false assumptions and it led to their early deaths. The bad news was most of them reanimated and now walked the earth in search of the lucky few that somehow managed to survive. Lucky few, what an oxymoron.

It was impossible to get comfortable inside the cramped Jeep but he made the most of it. He devoured the MRE instantly and powered up his night vision goggles.

The sun disappeared behind a cloak of gloomy storm clouds and darkness descended on the Wasatch. Thanks to the clouds the night was moonless, and without the night vision goggles he wouldn’t be able to see a thing.

The goggles worked perfectly. He scanned the forest one last time, and there was no detectable movement in the soft green glow. After locking the doors and hooking the NVGs onto the helmet mounting clip, he said a few words in his head; they were directed at his wife and daughter, wherever they might be. I am alive and I will see you soon. I love you Brook and Raven. He closed his eyes. Sleep owned him seconds later.