First Wave (The Travis Combs Post-Apocalypse Thrillers) Read Free Page B

emanated from the body causing Travis to step
back.
    “What the hell just happened Trav?” muttered Pete.
    “Not sure bro. Maybe this guy was jacked up on nose
candy or meth. I’ve never seen anything like that and I’ve seen some crazy shit
before.”
    Mark was kneeling over Fran’s limp body, his own
bloody hand curled back in his chest. His wife’s blood formed a small puddle
next to her head as her glassy eyes shone in the moonlight. Katy and the others
rushed up and huddled around the two, with bewildered looks painted across
their faces. Katy bent down next to him trying to avert her eyes from Fran’s
mangled face. She swiftly wrapped the shredded stump with a bandanna pulled from
her neck and then looked Mark over for any further injuries.
    Travis knelt down and removed the pistol from around
the man’s bloody holster along with a flashlight and pepper spray. Then he did
a quick chamber check of the Glock 19 and stowed the two magazines in his back
pocket. Travis dragged his knife across the man’s pant leg and resheathed it while
palming the pistol in his right hand. Out of habit, he refocused his attention
on the bigger picture around them and scanned the road and surrounding cliffs
for any movement. “Go check on the rest of the group and get them back to the
campfire,” he said to Pete. “Then load it up with tons of firewood. This could
be a long night.”
    “Where are you going?”
    “On the high ground over our camp to scan for movement
and see if anyone else is out there. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
    Katy and Pete ushered Mark back to the campfire while
the others helped drag Fran away from the water’s edge, towards a tangle of
downed tree branches. Then they covered her body with a tarp.
    Travis was on a rock formation that rose sixty feet
above the beach, peering down the faintly illuminated road that wound through
the thousand foot high walls of Diamond Creek Canyon. Other than the sound of
some crickets and a gentle breeze in the willows, the only other sound came
from the trembling voices at the campfire below him.
    After he was satisfied, he stowed the pistol in his belt
and scrambled down the trail to the group. Their faces were tight. Everyone’s pensive
eyes darted from Mark’s hunched, moaning figure beside the fire to the gravel
road by the beach.
    Travis moved out of the
shadows and his broad form cast a long shadow on the boulders behind him. “I’m
not sure what the hell just went down or what was wrong with the ranger, but
let’s hike out of here at dawn and get some answers. For now, let’s take turns
keeping the fire going and make sure your eyes and ears stay sharp,” said
Travis.
    LB got up and walked a
few feet over to the gear pile and brought back a handful of wooden oars,
placing them around the outskirts of the campfire, while Pete piled more wood
on the blaze.

Chapter 2
     
    Few people slept and, other than awkward small talk,
they sat silently around the fire, catnapping or staring furtively into the
darkness.
    Around four-thirty am, dawn was muscling into the
canyon and wrens and jays began to sing. At first, it seemed like the same
serene setting they had awoken to each morning. Then Evelyn sat up and looked
at Mark. “My god, what happened? Look at his skin.”
    Mark was lying face down in the sand with no
indication of breathing. Pete rushed over to his side and turned him on his
back. Flecks of caked sand fell of his mottled blue face and patches of his
hair had fallen out.
    “Katy, you’re the ER nurse- what do you make of
this?” said Travis. Before she could respond, Mark’s eyes opened and he sat
straight up. From his mouth came the same contorted vocalizations that Travis
heard from the ranger.
    “Mark, buddy, it’ll be ok. Just sit still,” said Evelyn.
His milky eyes fixated on her and then he shot his hand out at her sandaled
foot. She gasped and jumped back. Travis grabbed an oar and held it against
Mark’s chest. “Easy dude,