Barrel of Monkeys [Drunk Monkeys 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Read online

  Hell, no one would have believed a disaster movie of this scope. Not even the old monster movies where gigantic, radioactive lizards leveled everything in sight.

  It didn’t feel real.

  Now, before dawn, Omega and three other Drunk Monkeys prepared for their recon mission. They’d be accompanied by Mark, AKA Sparky, a retired LA fireman who was now also their logistics coordinator for the recon run. He’d just joined their group a few days before with Annie, a former military mechanic and sharpshooter.

  Right now, their group was hidden at a house in Altadena, which was owned by a friend of Sparky’s. Apparently the owner had bugged out and left town before their arrival.

  Their group was in a hurry to do the same. Hence today’s scouting mission. They couldn’t risk getting caught at a choke point. The RV contained their mobile Kite lab where three scientists from The List desperately worked to come up with a vaccine for the virus.

  Especially since one of their own guys had apparently contracted a milder, mutated strain of the disease and, fortunately, was recovering from it.

  It gave them all hope that maybe humanity wasn’t farked up the ass, sideways and without lube, after all.

  Echo looked up from the ammo bag he was packing. “Grenades, yes, or no?”

  Omega started to give him a smart-assed response when he realized Echo wasn’t kidding. As a sergeant, and the highest-ranking member of the recon party, technically it was Omega’s call.

  “Yeah, take a couple. Can’t hurt to have them.”

  He knew Echo felt nervous about today’s mission. Healthily so. He wouldn’t want anyone going with them who wasn’t at least a little nervous. It would keep them on their toes, highly aware.

  He and Echo had been buddies ever since basic training, when they were eighteen and fresh recruits right out of high school. He’d been the streetwise, big, beefy black guy from LA, while Echo had been a brown-haired and blue-eyed country boy from Kansas.

  The two of them became fast friends, bonded over snarky senses of humor and the fact that both were only children with single mothers. When the chance to try out for the SOTIF units came their way, they both jumped at it with an all or none attitude. Either they both made it, or they’d turn it down.

  Echo likely would have been a sergeant too, now, had Kite and TMFU not happened. He’d been due for a rank bump from corporal when the world went to hell.

  Literally.

  Who knew their friendship would have lasted twelve years, the last four of them as part of the Drunk Monkeys? Echo was a master of disguise, a two-legged chameleon. About the only thing he couldn’t do was turn himself into a black man. Omega even tolerated Echo’s love of foreign pop music.

  As the unit’s quartermaster, Omega normally wouldn’t be going out on a recon like this, but as with their time in Mexico, he had special knowledge and skills that made his presence necessary. Before Clara had joined them in Mexico, he’d been the only man in the unit who could fluently speak Spanish, despite standing out from the local population due to his six five height and his dark skin. And now, he had local knowledge the others didn’t.

  He also wanted to see what was out there. As quartermaster, he might find things they could use. Yes, they had Bubba for intelligence support back in the Chicago area, but with the massive chaos here on the ground in LA, he needed to be the one calling the shots in terms of supplies.

  Their mission’s success depended on it.

  “Lima said there’s a lot of confusion on the official bands,” Echo told him. “Command structure has collapsed in local law enforcement.”

  “I don’t doubt it. Some areas of LA were like a war zone during good times. I can’t imagine it’s any better now.”

  “I know we need Sparky with us, but I gotta be honest with you, I wish he wasn’t going.”

  Omega turned to him. “Why?”

  Echo shrugged, his blue eyes looking troubled. “Just a gut instinct. But I won’t officially stand up and tell you I think he should stay behind just because this whole fucking situation’s got my nuts twisted.”

  Omega flashed him a smile. “Not like that gal in Manila, I suppose?”

  Echo winced. “I meant metaphorically, dude. And I thought you promised never to mention that crazy bitch ever again.”

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “Sorry. Yeah, she was a special level of crazy, wasn’t she?” The two of them had met her at a bar near the base early last year, well before TMFU, while they were on a two-day pass. At first, in bed between them, she’d been insatiable. But when the men tried to leave the next morning, she insisted they were going to stay even when they tried to tell her the US military had dibs on their lives.

  She’d grabbed the first thing she could get hold of—Echo’s nads.

  Omega had to lift her off the bed and lock her in a closet so they could escape.

  “I mean,” Echo continued, “you know I don’t worry unnecessarily, but I can’t shake this feeling.”

  “We can’t risk moving the caravan without recon.”

  “I get it. No argument there.” He zipped the bag and hoisted it over his shoulder. “Let’s just make it a turn and burn, okay? No sightseeing, no jumping in to help people out. Out and back so we can say adiós to LA for good.”

  “We’re on the same page, cupcake.” He went to check on Kilo and Foxtrot and make sure they were ready to go. They couldn’t risk too many people going on this recon, another reason he’d agreed when Papa, their commander, had strongly suggested Sparky ride along. They needed every available extra person back at base guarding the three scientists and the RV.

  If they lost the valuable research the three had accomplished so far, it could mean the difference between a vaccine for Kite…

  And the end of the human race as they knew it.

  He found the other two men emerging from the tent they shared. “You two ready to roll?”

  “Yeah, just want to hit the latrine one last time,” Kilo said.

  Foxtrot headed for the vehicle the two men would be driving. “Then me, after I dump my stuff in the car.”

  “Make it fast. I want to be out of here before daylight.”

  “Roger roger,” Kilo said.

  Omega found the retired fireman also ready to go. “You sure you’re up to this?” he asked.

  Sparky grinned. “This is the most excitement I’ve had in years. I was an LA fireman, so believe me, I’ve seen excitement.”

  “You’re going to be armed.”

  Sparky snorted. “I’m always armed.”

  “You going to have any problems shooting if it comes to that?”

  “Not on your life. I was military. No worries, I know the drill.”

  “Okay. Just checking.”

  “If I thought I was going to endanger you guys, we wouldn’t be having this convo. I’d have Lima pull up detailed maps and draw routes out for you. But I want to see if my friend up in Castaic is still there. If things are worse than we think they are, he’s got the perfect place for us to hole up in for a little while.”

  “You can always just give us a note. Or we can film a message on a tablet to show them.”

  Sparky glanced around before leaning in. “I want to feel useful, okay? Give an old man his last hurrah. I might not make it with you much farther than my friend’s place, depending on if he’s planning on bugging out or not. We might just make that our last stand or something. Or, I might stay with you to Seattle and beyond. But I pull my weight. This is something I can do.”

  Omega held out his hand and shook with the older man. “Fair enough, Sparky. Welcome to the team. But your help taking down the mole was already above and beyond. You’re guaranteed a place with us no matter what from this point on.”

  Sparky shrugged. “Yeah, but I ain’t no slouch.” He grinned. “Besides, this could be a lot of fun.”

  “I don’t think you know what that word means.”

  “No, I do. But it beats being locked up in an apartment in a buildin
g that probably shook itself into a pancake. For that reason alone, I want to keep pulling my weight. I feel like I owe the group that much. I don’t fear dying, but I’d rather postpone it as long as possible.”

  Omega couldn’t argue with that logic.

  They were all loaded and had gone through a final talk with Papa and Alpha, their commander and second, when Annie walked up to the lead car. Omega was driving, Sparky riding shotgun while Echo sat in the backseat and was in charge of the tablet and maps.

  Sparky rolled down his window and she leaned in to hug him. “Hey, you come back. That’s an order.”

  “What’s that for? Just recon.”

  She shrugged. “Lots of things I’d wished I’d said to people in my life. People I sort of took for granted would be there. You realize I dubbed you my adopted dad, right?”

  He reached out and squeezed her hand. “Yeah, well, I never had kids. So you’re my adopted daughter. Don’t worry, they’ll get an old man with a gimpy hip back here safe and sound.”

  Omega nodded in agreement. “You betcha.”

  She ducked her head and met Omega’s gaze. “You be careful, too,” she said to him. “Everyone comes home.”

  “What about me?” Echo joked from the backseat.

  “Yeah, and you.” She slapped the car’s roof. “Get yer asses back here before evening chow. I want to be able to leave this shit-hole city in the morning.”

  Then she walked back to speak to Kilo and Foxtrot in the car behind them.

  In the rearview mirror, Omega watched Echo look behind them. “What do you think that was about?” Echo asked.

  Sparky’s tone concerned Omega only because it mirrored some of his own thoughts. “She’s nervous. Understandably so. Everyone she’s cared about in the past year hasn’t made it.” He looked at Omega. “Let’s see if we can’t reverse that trend.”

  Omega shifted the car into gear and pulled forward. “Agreed on all counts.”

  Chapter Six

  Smoke from the fires to the south lay over the entire valley complex, even as far north as Altadena. In the early morning, it hung low to the ground and mixed in many places to form a thick fog. It slowed their progress, not only because they couldn’t see any hazards in the road, but because it impeded their ability to keep an eye out for anyone who might ambush them.

  The LA basin had turned into an urban warfare zone. Omega wished like hell he didn’t have to think that way, but he knew too well that letting down his guard might get them all killed.

  Too much was riding on their mission to allow that to happen.

  They wanted to see if they could make it through to Santa Clarita, at least as far as Sparky’s friend in Castaic. If they could, from that point on they knew they’d be away from the worst of the threat from the south. Yes, people would begin streaming north, homeless refugees with nothing left to lose, but staying in the LA area was not an option.

  Not with the valuable passengers and cargo they were carrying.

  At least the quake damage wasn’t as bad in this part of the valley as it had been to the south. But the power looked like it was out all over, based on the dark traffic signals and lack of streetlights.

  Chances are, it wouldn’t be coming back online anytime soon. The occasional light they saw creeping out through a window here and there had to be either battery backups, lanterns, candles, or gennys.

  And if the power was out, the water would soon be out soon in most areas, where it wasn’t already. The pumping stations usually only had reserve power for a couple of days. The de-sal plants the county had built likely had been damaged by the quake and resulting tsunami. If undamaged, they also faced the same problem of needing power to function. The hottest days of summer were fast approaching, without a drop of rain in sight.

  LA, as a region, wasn’t equipped for residents to live off-the-grid and sustain life. Especially with a population of several million people. Yes, over the years growth had stalled and the numbers dropped due to the influenza pandemics, and most recently the anthrax attacks, but the resources simply weren’t there.

  Lima had picked up classified update feeds from the sat-link, courtesy of Bubba, and reported that the estimated death toll was now around the two million mark, but no one could confirm that number. And it wasn’t known how many of those deaths were due to Kite or Kiter attacks. To the south, Orange County had enlisted the National Guard to forcibly patrol their borders and prevent people from entering until they’d been checked for Kite.

  There were reports of the troops shooting anyone who refused to comply, and large burn piles of bodies. Aerial video of the central part of the county made even Omega’s battle-hardened heart cringe. He was glad he no longer had any relatives living in the region, not that he’d be able to help them if he did. Only someone with a death wish would venture into that war zone.

  He didn’t know how the state and federal governments planned to ever reconstruct the region, but if Kite had taken root as deeply as was being reported, he suspected they might be better off waiting six months for everyone to die off before bulldozing the entire metro area to the ground and starting over.

  The American public wasn’t used to widespread disasters, natural or manmade, that they couldn’t go in and fix.

  This wasn’t fixable.

  This wasn’t rebuildable.

  This wasn’t salvageable in any way, shape, or form.

  At least unlike North Korea there was a chance for someone to go in at some future time and try to rebuild. There wasn’t any radioactivity to worry about.

  But the area was just as dead. And for now, due to Kite, just as hot.

  * * * *

  Echo didn’t like anything about being in the LA area. Not one damn thing.

  The sooner they got their asses out of there, the happier he’d be. Yes, he knew it might be little more than just superstition on his part, but he’d endured a bad feeling deep in his gut ever since their arrival in the city a couple of weeks ago, and it only grew worse with each hour that passed.

  As the sun rose and daylight slowly started chasing the worst of the shadows away, he only grew more creeped out by their surroundings.

  The LA area, even in residential zones, was usually a bustling metropolis.

  Not anymore.

  It spooked him right the fark out.

  They avoided the 210. It was damaged in some places, and the last thing they wanted to do was possibly get stuck in traffic and unable to move. It was eerie how many cars were parked along the sides of streets and in driveways in the residential areas. Some of them looked like they hadn’t been driven in months, maybe years. Flat tires were common, as if they’d dry-rotted. Most of them bore thick coatings of dust and ash that hadn’t been washed off since the last rains a few months earlier.

  In years past, many of the neighborhoods they crept through likely had been upper middle class. But not now. Most of the yards were dirt, and anything growing in them were weeds or small, well-fenced home food gardens. The people who had money no longer lived in Los Angeles, because they could afford longer commutes into and out of the city.

  And those rich folks were now likely holed up in well-protected, high-walled compounds far from the chaos in the valley.

  “I don’t have the words to describe how creepy this feels,” he muttered from the backseat just loudly enough that Omega and Sparky could hear him.

  “Ditto,” Sparky said. “You think it’s creepy? I know what it’s like during the best of times. This is farking weird.”

  “You think they all evacuated?” Omega asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe. Doesn’t look like there was a lot of looting in this area like we saw over in parts of Glendale.”

  “Yet,” Echo said.

  Sparky nodded in agreement. “It’s only a matter of time. Whoever the quake and Kite didn’t kill, they’ll be looking for supplies. If they didn’t evac with the National Guard.”

  “Why do I have a bad feeling about that, too?”
Echo posed, more rhetorical than anything.

  Sparky chose to answer. “Because whatever the PTB have planned isn’t going to end well for anyone who went to Barstow. I know I’ve been out of the loop for a little while, but none of our disaster plans ever included that contingency.”

  The Powers That Be, in this case, seemed nothing more than vague, gauzy phantoms. No one appeared to be in charge, not local authorities, not the military, not even the Red Cross, despite the National Guard and media spreading the word about the evacuations.

  Whatever would happen to those refugees who ended up in Barstow remained to be seen.

  But Echo couldn’t imagine anything good happening to them.

  “How long you think until we reach Santa Clarita?” Echo asked Sparky.

  “At this pace, before lunch. I’d like to see if we can make it all the way up to Castaic, though. If the road’s clear that far, likely we’ll be okay. And we’ll know we have a safe waypoint.”

  “If your friend’s even there,” Omega said.

  “If he’s not, we’ll still be able to stop there. He’s got a great setup. Also, he’s less than a hundred yards from the edge of the lake. Has this ingenious backup pump system. He can run this hose down to the lake and fill a thousand-gallon tank he’s got buried underground with it. Gravity feed system into the house from there. One switch valve takes him from county water to his own system.”

  “How’d he do that?” Echo asked.

  “Me and some friends helped him. We worked with him for years. He retired before we did.” He looked over the back of the seat at Echo. “If there’s one thing firemen know, it’s plumbing and water supplies.”

  Chapter Seven

  Smoky grey light was trying to creep over the mountains to the east as Gia and Corporal Nick Edison, and four of his larger, beefier guys following in another marked SUV headed out into the eerily still morning.